by Amy Brent
Rayna was a strawberry blonde now, her hair past her shoulders. She saw a therapist to deal with her issues with her family and James, working through them weekly as we just got stronger together. I knew that she was ready for a proposal and what I hoped was a short engagement.
We rented a car to drive to my parent’s house and came in through the door to hugs and kisses. My family was affectionate, and I sensed that Rayna loved it. We sat down for lunch and talked about the holiday plans as Rayna agreed to them with a grin. Mom knew my plan, and I could tell that she was bursting at the seams about it.
Through the week-long trip, we saw the town, and I showed her places from my past. We had a great time and with the parties and get togethers going on, it was the moment of truth before I knew it. My parents were in bed, and we were watching a Christmas movie in the big living room lit only by the television and tree lights as I looked down at her. The ring was in the kitchen, and I asked her if she wanted some water as she nodded and smiled at me. I got a bottle and stuffed the ring into the pocket of my pajamas as I took a slow breath.
I walked back out to her and looked at her as she stretched. I set the bottle down on the table, dropping in front of her on the floor as she froze. “Declan?”
“Baby, you know that I love you. I want to start our new life together this coming year, if possible. I want everything that we’ve talked about, Rayna. I am ready for the real play to start for both of us. Will you marry me?” I asked as she let her mouth drop open.
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” she said, her voice rising with each time. “I have a surprise for you, too.”
“But will you marry me?” I asked as she pulled me up and into her arms.
“Yes!! I will marry you, and I’ll be having your baby in about seven months, too. Does that work for you?” She asked as I pulled her against me.
“Baby?” I asked as she nodded and kissed me. I knew that she was talking about not taking her pills anymore, but I wasn’t sure when she did since we’d been together for several months now.
“Yes. I tested myself, and I go to the doctor when we get back home. Are you happy?” I asked as he kissed me tenderly.
“I am thrilled. Will you marry me soon? I want you to be my wife.” I asked as she nodded and melted into my arms.
We went to bed a little while later, making love quietly in his old bed. I broke the news about the engagement with family the following day, and Rayna told them about the baby, grinning as the room erupted in screams.
Our future was beginning, and I couldn’t wait for the next year. We were wrapped up in hugs as everyone congratulated us, asking when the wedding was and the baby was due.
Rayna smiled at me through the crowd as we drifted apart and I saw how happy she was, her smile bright and her blue eyes twinkling. She never looked more beautiful, and I wondered if the baby would look like the one in my dream.
“I love you,” I mouthed as she blew me a kiss.
Life was going to be perfect.
THE END
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Friends with Benefits
Chapter 1
Steven
From my spot at the bar, I had the perfect view of the dance floor below. I sat with my back to the bar, my elbows lazily draped on its surface behind me. Beside me, my buddy Chance was ordering us another round of beers. While he paid the bartender—a tall blonde with arms jingling in gold jewelry—I scanned the dance floor and took note of all the scantily clad bodies that were just begging for me to approach them.
A young woman with short black hair and red lipstick caught my eye. Her skin glowed blue and pink beneath the flashing lights of the club, and she gave me a sultry smile and a small wave. I returned the gesture with a slight nod of my head and looked up and down the length of her body. Her long legs led to an ass that was hard not to stare at. She wore a short leather skirt and a black lace top, and her cleavage was whispering sweet nothings to me. She turned sideways, her eyes still locked on mine, and began twisting her hips in a tantalizing rhythm to the music.
Chance nudged my elbow and passed me a beer.
“Thanks, man,” I said, turning to my friend and tapping the neck of my beer bottle against his.
Chance spun around on his barstool and assumed the same position as me. “Spot any hotties worthy of your prowess?” Chance asked, shooting me a smug look before nodding his chin toward the dance floor.
“Perhaps,” I said, searching for the short-haired girl who had captured my attention. I couldn’t find her.
The club, Dante’s, was busier than usual. There were so many bodies packed into the place that the black velvet curtains covering the brick walls were nearly impossible to see. For a long time, the building had been used as a bakery, and the new owner had flipped it into a club. He hadn’t wanted to remove the old masonry on the walls, as the bricks were almost seventy-five years old, so he opted to cover them with plush fabrics instead. It gave the place a very gothic, intimate vibe when it wasn’t lit up with flashing neon colors and strobe lights.
There was suddenly a hand on my knee.
I turned to meet a pair of sharp green eyes beneath dramatic black eyebrows. It was the short-haired girl from the dance floor. Her red lips were curled up in a soft smile, and she was standing with one hip cocked to the side, giving her body a sensual curve that sent a shock of excitement straight to my groin.
“Hi,” she purred, one of her fingers tracing a circle on my thigh. “Would you like to accompany me to the bathroom? A man like you doesn’t come around often, and I want to take advantage of,” she scanned me up and down, and her green eyes burned, “all of you.”
I wasn’t the sort of man who ever needed to be asked twice. In fact, I usually didn’t have to be asked at all. This was a nice change of pace. I stood and took her hand in mine, winked deviously at Chance, and strode determinedly toward the restrooms. I led her through throngs of people dancing in clusters along the way. Most of them parted to make way for me; this was something I was used to. I was taller than almost anyone in the club, and I had been told on numerous occasions that I possessed a certain presence. Upon asking for clarification, I had been informed that I had the air of a man who shouldn’t be fucked with. I used this to my advantage, always.
The restrooms at Dante’s were elegant places—especially the women’s. I had been in it more than a handful of times. So, I knew where the girl was taking me when she took the lead and marched past the floor to ceiling mirrors on the east wall, past the high-backed, plush chairs in a row at vanity tables for women to fix their makeup, and past the sinks. Finally, she stopped at the door at the end, lifted her fist, and knocked.
Fifteen seconds later a blonde girl with a definite wobble in her step stumbled out, gave us a sheepish drunk smile, and continued past us. Other women were shooting us looks that were divided fifty-fifty between disapproval and envy.
The short-haired girl stepped into the handicapped cubicle, grabbed a fistful of my shirt, and pulled me in behind her. Before I closed the door behind us, I flashed the women in front of the mirrors my best devil may care grin. One rolled her eyes. The other four giggled.
When I turned back to the girl in the stall with me, she had already pulled her shirt off over her head and stood proudly before me. She was wearing a sheer lace black bra. Her nipples were hard beneath the thin fabric. I stepped closer to her, and she tilted her chin up to look at me. She wasn’t tall by any means; the top of her head came only to my shoulders, and she was wearing some damn high shoes.
I approved of her choice of location. We had plenty of space in this stall. It hosted its own sink and counter beneath a large mirror. I turned her back to the mirror strategically. I had done this before, and I
wanted the view from all angles.
Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine as I reached out and put a hand on her waist. I drew her to me and held her against me before cupping the back of her head in my other hand and lowering my face to hers. I pressed my lips against her mouth, tasting her lipstick and her tongue. She had been drinking vodka crans, and she tasted sweet. A ripple of desire tore through me. I pushed my tongue between her teeth and explored her. She moaned breathlessly into my mouth, and it was enough to propel me into action.
I found the hem of her skirt and tugged it upward. It took a little bit of effort to get it over her ass. Once it was sitting up around her waist, I grabbed hold of her bottom and squeezed, holding her to me more fiercely as she pinched my bottom lip between her teeth. I glanced at the mirror and admired the shape of her from behind. She had dimples on her lower back, and the curve of her spine was too much temptation for me not to run my fingers down the length of the middle of her back. She also wasn’t wearing panties.
My kind of girl.
She cooed in my ear, nibbled my earlobe, and then rained kisses down my throat.
What she was doing felt too good for me to still have my pants on. I was pressing up against the inside of my jeans and was eager to be free. She seemed to sense this, and her fingers fell to my belt buckle. She continued to kiss my neck as she undid the buckle, then my fly.
She leaned away from me once my pants were undone and looked down. She wanted to see what she was working with, apparently, and I wasn’t going to keep her waiting. My jeans fell down around my ankles, and I pulled my boxers down.
That gleam in her eyes burned brighter as she stared at me. She pinched her bottom lip between her teeth and stepped in closer again. Her fingers found the hem of my shirt which she pulled over my head. Then she ran her fingers all over my chest and stomach, feeling the ridges and grooves of my body.
“I was hoping this is what was hiding under there,” she whispered. “Hoping but not really expecting.” She smiled coyly at me and took me in her hand. She worked me over, slowly at first, and built up to a quicker rhythm that had me thanking my sheer good luck that she had the nerve to bring me into this bathroom in the first place.
“Turn around,” I said, taking her by the hips and spinning her away from me.
She spun to face the mirror and watched me in the reflection. I kissed her neck and shoulder while I undid her bra. It fell to the floor and became pinched beneath the heel of her shoe.
Her breasts were perky and firm. I cupped them in my hands and pressed my cock into her back. She rested her head against my chest and continued to watch me in the mirror.
“Spread your legs,” I demanded.
She widened her stance and never took her eyes off me. “Fuck me,” she pleaded. “Fuck me as hard as you can.”
I planned on it.
I let go of her breasts. She replaced my hands with her own. I put my hand on her upper back and pushed her down over the sink. She submitted and looked over her shoulder, watching as I took my cock in my hand and pressed it up gently against her pussy. She was so wet and so soft. I could feel my pulse in the tip of my cock as I rubbed up against her.
“Please,” she moaned.
I eased into her, gliding against her velvety soft walls. She was tight, and she hugged me firmly as I entered her. She moaned once she had taken all of me. Her back arched more dramatically, and she lifted her face to the ceiling, closing her eyes.
I withdrew and entered her again. I repeated this until neither of us could bear it any longer, and then I gripped her hips and buried myself in her over and over. She reached out and clutched the counter as a gasp of pleasure escaped her lips. That was all the encouragement I needed.
I fucked her harder. Her legs shook. A cry of pleasure came from her, and the sound only made me want to work her over more.
I pulled out of her when I was about to come and turned her back around. She was unsteady on her feet now, a sure sign that I was doing a good job. I lifted her up with my hands under her ass. She wrapped her arms around my neck and braced herself on my shoulders. I felt the tip of my cock pressed against her clit. She took one arm off my shoulder, took hold of me, and eased me back inside her. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and a smile of delight curled the corners of her mouth.
I lifted her up and down, up and down, her pussy gliding over my cock. She was even wetter now.
She buried her fingers in my hair and curled them into fists. She leaned in close and kissed me hard, sucking on my tongue and exploring me with excited determination. I continued to bounce her on my cock, and she moaned and purred into my mouth.
She tightened her hands in my hair and pulled away. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyelids were heavy. Still deep inside her, I set her down on the counter and pushed her legs apart. She rested one ankle on my shoulder and pressed her fingers against her clit. She began to rub herself in slow circles while I continued to thrust into her.
I pulled all the way out and then eased my way slowly back in. My cock was slick with her juices, and her pussy was too good for me to hold out much longer. I pushed deeper into her than I had before. She cried out in ecstasy. I felt her leg and ankle quiver against my shoulder as she succumbed to her orgasm.
I buried my cock in her as deep and as hard as I could. I was going to come soon. Her fingers gripped the edge of the counter as she struggled to balance herself with each thrust I gave her. Her bouncing tits, breathless moans, and juicy pussy brought me to the brink.
Then she fixed me under her stare and breathed, “Come inside me.”
I lost complete control. I thrust into her one last time and filled her up with warmth. Her pussy pulsed around me as she took it all.
She sighed with contentment and lifted her ankle from my shoulder. I still held her hips and eased her gently to the floor, where she somehow managed to balance precariously on her stilettos. She grabbed her skirt and wiggled her hips as she tugged it back down around her thighs.
She turned away from me to face the mirror again. Her lipstick was smudged and faded. She stooped down to the ground to retrieve her bra and shirt. At some point, a red tube had fallen to the ground. She grabbed that, too, took off the cap, and repainted her lips. She pursed them and rubbed them together as I cleaned myself up and pulled my pants back on.
“You fuck like a God,” she told me as she watched me in the mirror.
“I do what I can.”
She twisted back around and leaned against the counter, still naked from the waist up. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, and I didn’t look away. I tugged my shirt on over my head and ran my fingers through my hair in an attempt to contain the volume it now held from her burying her fingers in it.
“If I called you sometime, would you want to do this again?” she asked, one eyebrow lifting up toward her hairline.
“I don’t have a phone, actually,” I said, pressing the wrinkles out of my shirt. “But thanks anyway. That was fun.”
“Fun?” she asked a hint of irritation coloring her voice.
“Yeah,” I said with a slight shrug. “You’re a babe.”
That irritation seemed to burn out as a small smile touched her lips again.
“I have to get back to my buddy,” I said, hooking a thumb over my shoulder and pointing at the cubicle door.
She nodded and spun back to the mirror. “I’ll see you around,” she said as she clipped her bra on.
“Yeah,” I said as I opened the door and stepped out.
Six women were standing in front of the mirrors staring at me. I imagined they had all been pruning themselves before heading back out into the club to peacock in front of all the men, but they had become distracted by my vigorous fucking of the stranger in the handicap stall. They didn’t seem annoyed by my presence in the bathroom, but more curious.
“Ladies,” I drawled as I slipped by them. I gave them a slight nod and chuckled to myself as I stepped out of the restroom, and a chorus of
giggles erupted behind me.
Chapter 2
Allie
I leaned forward to rest my forehead on the top of my desk. It was presently littered with pieces of paper, my lunch box, and general office debris. My boss, James Lipton, CEO of Lipton Publishing, had filled my day with numerous tasks that had turned my brain to complete mush. Being his assistant was no walk in the park, and today was the sort of day I dreaded.
I had arrived at eight in the morning with his usual cup of coffee in hand: a triple grande Americano Misto with one pump of vanilla syrup. After delivering it to him in his office, he had handed me a sheet of paper with a list of the day’s priorities. After arranging and prepping his three board meetings that day, I had to interview six potential candidates for a summer internship, process the monthly order of new office supplies, and confirm James’s appointments for the rest of the week.
Now, it was nearly four thirty, and I ached for time to hurry along. I hated Mondays. They were too abrupt for me after a weekend. Especially my slow paced, easy going, do nothing all day and night kind of weekend. I had watched Netflix and eaten a tub of chocolate mint ice cream by myself between Friday and Sunday night.