These damn kids know how to have a good time and they’ll pay good money for it too. Twenty-five bucks a person and it’s fucking final. A song by The Weeknd comes on and the dancing slows down. Girls start grinding on other girls, making out with each other, all of them sloppy drunk.
Normally it would turn me on, but right now all I can think about is my feisty little neighbor, Vanessa.
Vanessa fucking Reed. Her pussy tasted so sweet on my tongue out there. I know I’ll regret downing this whiskey to cover up the taste, but it’s needed in order to forget about it.
I can’t keep thinking about her too much. She isn’t about to fuck with my head. I do what I want, when I want, and no matter how sexy she is, she isn’t going to mess that up.
I walk past the kids and to the kitchen where Martin, my cousin is. He’s the one who goes to college, gets the local kids in the know about the parties I throw here. He’s the star quarterback for the school so he knows how to drag them in. There is an unlimited supply of alcohol and the music doesn’t stop until four in the morning.
“One more hour and these kids are out of here,” I mutter when I step up to him.
“What? You’re kicking us out already?” Martin laughs before taking a swig of his beer.
“I got my money from them. I’m fucking over it now.” I pour myself a shot and toss it back.
“Hey, who was that banging on the door like a fucking maniac?” he asks, bunching his eyebrows together.
“Redhead from across the street.”
“Again!” He laughs loudly. “Dude, she wants your dick so fucking bad! She comes over every single time just to annoy you. I say you pipe her down, teach her a fucking lesson already.”
Oh, trust me, I want to. I want to make Vanessa’s pussy mine in more ways than one. But I won’t admit it. Not to him and never to her.
I look at Martin. He’s four years younger than me. Twenty-three and doesn’t have any common sense whatsoever, but wants to major in engineering. I guess he is good at creating shit. He’s book smart, athletic, has girls all over him, but he’s far from street smart. His athleticism and good grades is what got him the full-ride scholarship to Virginia Tech.
I pour another shot and drink it, the warmth and sting coursing down my throat. “Hey,” he nudges me. “You want me to tell one of these drunk bitches to give you a blow job? I bet that one would do it in front of everybody right now.” He points at a girl with blond hair dancing on the middle of the dance floor alone, pushing her hands through her hair and sucking on her bottom lip, desperate for attention.
“Nah. I’m about to take a shower. Better not be any people in my damn room either or I’m tossing them out.” I give him a stern look. These people are his friends. I’d hate to embarrass him but I don’t like my shit to be fucked with.
“They aren’t,” he laughs. “Trust me, they know the fucking rules. And if they are in there, fuck it! Toss their asses out! Should teach them a lesson!”
I step around him and push through the thick crowd, going upstairs. A few girls grab my arm over the banister, batting their eyelashes at me, but I pull away.
I don’t want any of them. I want the firecracker across the street. The one who mouths off at me and doesn’t give a damn how I make her pay for it. The one who resists and makes it harder for me, just the way I like it.
I like when she puts up a fight. Easy women don’t turn me on, but a feisty one will have my cock hard as a rock in seconds.
My room is empty as it should be and I lock the door, walking to the bathroom to start up the shower. After getting undressed and getting in, I stand under the stream, gripping my heavy cock in hand. My balls ache, in need of release. I stroke slowly at first, imagining myself thrusting in and out of Vanessa’s pussy on my front porch. I remember the sweet, sticky taste of her pussy on my tongue—how she came all over my fucking face—and I groan when my cock swells in my hand.
I bet her mouth would feel so good wrapped around my cock. I bet having her pussy wrapped around me is to fucking die for. She’s always wet. Even during the times I fingered her, she was wet and ready. Soft, tight, and fucking perfect.
“Fuck,” I growl, pressing a heavy hand on the wall. I start to jack my cock off faster, but then the shower curtain shoots open and I look over with a frown. It’s the same blond that was dancing on the middle of the dance floor.
“What the fuck!” I bark.
“Martin told me you needed me?” She grins, her eyes dropping to steal a glimpse.
“I don’t fucking need you,” I mutter. “How the fuck did you even get in here?”
“He used a butter knife or something to unlock the door.” She shrugs. “You have really shitty doorknobs, by the way. You should get new ones or something.”
I flare my nostrils, releasing my cock. Fuck it. She’s already up here and she’s staring at my junk like she wants it. Might as well make use of her.
I grab her hand and bring her into the shower. Her clothes get all wet and her nipples get hard beneath her thin gray tank top. Gripping her shoulder, I force her down to her knees with a sigh.
“Open your mouth,” I demand.
She opens wide and I shove my cock deep down her throat. I hear her choke on it and feel her press a hand on my thighs to try and get me to ease up, but I hold her head with both hands and fuck her mouth, shutting my eyes tight and imagining myself fucking the mouth of the redhead that was just on my porch. I ease up a little and her tongue swirls around the tip of my cock. It feels so fucking good.
“Yeah, suck my dick, Vanessa,” I rasp, holding the girl’s head tighter.
She muffles something around me but I ignore her. She’s probably complaining that I called her by another name. I don’t give a fuck. She’s Vanessa for right now.
I look down and thrust all the way in, going deep in her throat, and I can’t help what happens next. The warmth of her mouth is exactly what I need right now. I cum in a matter of seconds, squirting hard and fast.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan again, still thrusting hard in this college girl’s mouth, getting the whole load out and making sure she swallows every drop of it. It got the job done, but I know what will feel even better is this same hungry cock deep inside Vanessa’s dripping wet pussy.
Damn that firecracker has me all wound up.
I finally relax, pulling my hands from her head and grabbing her arm, tugging her up. “Get out,” I mutter and she blinks quickly, stepping out of the shower.
“That’s it? You don’t want to, like, fuck me or anything?” she questions like I’m the one who just got throat-fucked.
My jaw ticks. I close the shower curtain in her face, knowing she’ll get the fucking message. When I see her opaque shadow leave, I turn to face the stream of water, washing my cock and my balls.
It’s clear to me now, what needs to happen. I need to fuck Vanessa already and get her out of my system. It’s been six years too long. I’ve wanted her ever since I saw her unpacking shit from her car the first day she moved into my neighborhood. She walked back and forth in that short-ass dress, showing off a perfect, plump ass and long, silky legs. Hell, what man could ignore that?
I held off because I knew she was a feisty one. I could tell by the way she carried herself and how she turned her nose up at me when she caught me staring, but I don’t think I have another year of holding off in me.
If I fuck her then I can finally stop thinking about her. It will happen soon, I’m sure, but I don’t beg or chase. I’ll wait until she comes running to me again and this time, I’ll own her.
Three
Vanessa
After my yoga class, I drive home, in desperate need of a shower. I’m a sweaty mess, but it was great class. I feel much more relaxed than I did last night, but I admit that after the shower I took after leaving Axel’s house, I fell right asleep. Three hours didn’t do me any good, though. With my 4:00 a.m. shift at the midnight diner, I can use at least ten cups of coffee right now. No joke.
Bef
ore I pull into my driveway, I notice how much of a mess his front yard is. There are beer cans and glass bottles everywhere, paper and debris all over the grass. A tipped over keg by the porch. It is ridiculous.
I roll my eyes as I step out of the car, going for the back door to take out my gym bag. As I walk to my house, I hear a door creak across the street. I look over and Axel’s screen door is swinging open.
Out he walks with no shirt on, revealing his flat, hard stomach, sculpted abs, and broad chest. There is a light trace of stubble on his chin and jawline and I admit, it looks delicious on him.
He walks to his black Mustang and wrenches the door open, bending down to pick something up inside of it. I unlock my house door as he stands tall again with a pack of cigarettes in hand. He notices me as soon as his eyes swing over, and a cocky, stupid smirk tugs at his lips.
“How did you sleep last night, firecracker?” he asks with laughter in his deep voice.
I flip him off before walking into the house and shutting the door. I head for the kitchen first, opening the freezer and taking out a bottle of my strawberry and lemon infused water. As I chug a few sips down, there’s a knock on the door.
I know it’s him. Coming to harass me, like always.
I pull the door open and he doesn’t wait for me to speak. Instead, he walks right past me, looking around the living room as if he’s never seen my place before. He does this often. Walks in, acts like he owns the place. Pretends he needs something like sugar or peanut butter or even ice. I know for a fact he has a new fridge with an icemaker. I saw the delivery guys move it in over a month ago.
“What the hell do you want, Axel?” I ask, leaving the door wide open and folding my arms.
“I need some jelly. Making toast. Got any strawberry?” He flashes a lopsided smile.
“No, I don’t. Now can you please get out? I need a nap.”
“A nap?” He smirks over his shoulder, but continues walking toward the kitchen. The muscles in his back ripple, his basketball shorts sitting low on his hips.
I ignore all the raging hormones inside me and shut the door with a sigh, walking to the kitchen after him. I don’t have time for this. I’m exhausted and need to rest before my shift at Harlow’s tonight.
He pulls the refrigerator door open and leans forward, scoping the inside for jelly. He rifles around and when he finds what he’s looking for, he shoots a hand in, taking out a jar.
“No jelly, huh?” he questions. “Not strawberry, but I guess blackberry works just fine.”
“It’s not mine. It’s Shelby’s and you know she hates you,” I grumble.
“Like you hate me?” He laughs. “I don’t even think she really hates me. I think she wants me, but she knows she can’t have me because of her uptight, rich blond boyfriend. He must really suck in bed with the way she scowls at me. Chick needs to loosen up.” He chuckles, like he’s just told the funniest joke ever. I roll my eyes.
“She scowls at you because she can’t stand you. Plain and simple. Now put the jelly back and go buy your own.”
He walks my way with the jelly anyway, ignoring me as he steps past and walks out the door.
“I’ll return it when I’m finished. Maybe when I get back I can put some between your legs and lick it off.”
I shut the door in his face, shaking my head hard. I don’t have time for him right now. I need a shower and sleep. Screw him and the jelly.
Harlow’s is crowded tonight, though I’m not very surprised. A Saturday night here is never dull.
The music pulses through me, beckoning a light shimmy from my hips. This is the only time I like it loud, drowning out all of the madness of the world as I whip up these drinks and bring in the very nice tips.
The guys flirt, but I never take it too far. Just far enough to make them tip me double or triple.
I wipe off the counter in front of me when the rush has slowed down a bit. I scan the dance floor and watch how all the college kids dance and grind all over each other. I used to love this—doing that. In college, I was a wild girl, no doubt. Justine was my partner in crime, until she met Preston.
Now, she works as a veterinarian assistant and hangs out with him. We have our one night a week where we’ll watch the latest romantic movie from Redbox or paint our toe nails on the deck out back over a few glasses of wine and a whole lot of gossip, but that’s about it.
I don’t complain much. Working two jobs leaves me exhausted. I don’t have time for boyfriends or dilly-dallying anymore. I work because I have too. Coming from nothing and growing into something isn’t easy. I worked my way through college as a barista in the school’s coffee shop. I was on a full academic scholarship and that did not come easy. I was a great student, but an even better worker. I majored in English and I’ve been praying hard to get a job as a teacher one day.
I start to stack the glasses when I hear a loud, deep voice.
“There she is!” the familiar voice shouts, and I freeze, gripping one of them. “My little fucking firecracker!”
I turn slowly, meeting smoky gray eyes. “You have got to be kidding me,” I mutter loud enough for him to hear. Axel stands right in front of me with an obnoxious smirk.
He has on black jeans and a black T-shirt. He has his earrings in and his hair is purposely messy. He’s fucking hot. If I didn’t know him and I saw him here, I wouldn’t even be ashamed of staring, but never in a million years am I going to admit that.
“What? You aren’t happy to see me, baby?” He grips the edge of the counter, running his tongue across his bottom lip. He looks me over in my bar outfit, a blue belly shirt and dark-wash jeans that ride low on my hips, purposely showcasing the dimples in my lower back.
“I’m not your baby,” I retort. “Why the hell are you even here?”
“Boy’s night out.” He points his thumb back at a college kid sitting at a booth with a girl on his lap. She’s in skimpy clothing, her brown hair curled to perfection. On the other end of the booth is another girl. Blond hair, even skimpier clothing, her legs on full display. “Both of you on dates or something?” I ask, aiming to keep my voice casual as I wipe a damp spot on the counter.
“Does it look like I fucking date? Just having fun. Living a little, unlike someone I know.” He runs his eyes all over me again. “Get me whatever you have cheapest on tap for all four of us. And keep them coming for me, will you? I’ll be back for plenty more.”
“You have a table. Your waiter can serve you.”
“Yeah, well I don’t want the waiter serving me. I want you. Four beers, firecracker.” His knuckles tap twice on the countertop. “Hurry up.”
I flare my nostrils, but pull out four beer mugs. It’s still my job and I don’t want to get questioned later about it by my boss. He digs into his back pocket for the wallet chained to his jeans and fishes out four twenty-dollar bills. He slides the bills across the counter after I’ve filled each glass and says, “Keep the change. You work too damn hard.”
“I don’t need your charity, Axel.”
“Oh, I know you don’t. I think you need a lot more than my charity, though, baby.”
“Fuck off already, will you? I have other customers.” I scowl when he flashes his dimples, chuckling loud enough for me to hear over the music. When he takes off, balancing the mugs in his large hands, I can’t help but look in his direction every chance that I get.
Every time the song changes, my eyes just so happen to bounce over to find him, and each time, the blond in skimpy clothes is all over him. First her arm was around his waist, then her legs were on top of his, and now she’s on his lap, laughing about something that I’m sure is stupid.
Axel focuses on me as she starts grinding on his lap. I snatch my gaze away and help the next customer, pretending he isn’t even there.
An hour passes and I’m more than relieved when I see the younger guy with Axel stand up with his date and check his watch. Good. They’re leaving. They should have left hours ago.
Axel s
tands up, but instead of walking toward the exit like the rest of them, he’s coming in my direction again.
“Something wrong, firecracker?”
I ignore his question.
“Yeah. Something’s wrong.” He smiles. “Bet you wish you were on my lap, huh?”
I look away. “No. Not really.”
I peer up again, hoping he’s backing away, but nope. He’s still standing there.
“I remember you telling me a few months ago how much you love to make breakfast. How about invite me over for some tomorrow. A nice, hot Sunday breakfast. I’ll even bring the jelly back.” He smirks with his last statement.
“And why the hell would I want you anywhere near me on my only day off?” I fold my arms tightly across my chest, frowning up at him.
“Because you want me, Vanessa. It’s fucking obvious.”
My face remains even, but when he flashes that annoyingly sexy smile again, I feel my belly roll like a tidal wave. “I’ll be busy,” I mutter in response.
“Doing what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Probably catching up on sleep.”
He laughs. “No. You’ll be busy making me breakfast and then afterwards, you’ll be riding my dick at the kitchen table.”
I roll my eyes and pick up the empty shot glass that were left beside him. “Have a good night, Axel.”
Before I can grab all of them, he catches my hand. I look down at his and then up at him. “Let’s make a deal,” he continues. “Invite me to breakfast and I’ll stop my parties for two months.”
I narrow my gaze. “Two months? For one breakfast meal?” I scoff.
“No. Breakfast every Sunday morning for the next two months.”
I don’t get the game he’s playing. I pull my hand away, placing the glass in the sink. “Why?” I ask after a brief pause.
“Why what?”
“Do you want me to make you breakfast so badly? And why should I after the way that chick was practically smothering you?”
His upper lip quirks up. “I think you know exactly why. And I’m sure you also know that chick doesn’t mean shit to me.”
Crave: The Nora Heat Collection Page 11