by Lauren Dane
Wrong image. He pushed that one out of his head and got on his knees where she followed, scrambling up to take the condom from him and roll it on his cock herself.
She shoved him back and scrambled atop him, a smug smile on her lips.
'Bossy. I like that.'
'I know.' Reaching around her body, she guided his cock true and sank down quickly, her pussy swallowing him in one hard, fiery rush. The breath punched from him, the sensation of being surrounded by her grabbing him low in the gut, setting there as she rose up, the muscles in her thighs flexing, her breasts, those lovely full breasts, swaying.
'Fuck. That's so good.'
'Mmmm.' Her nails dug into his ribs where her hands rested to keep her balance.
The light in her eyes, the sweet smile, the way she swivelled on him taking her pleasure while bringing his at the same time, all parts of her he couldn't let go of. Haunted, he might have said even a month ago, but it had shifted to something more pleasant and he couldn't identify just when it had happened.
He cupped her breasts, thumbs sliding back and forth over her nipples as they drew tighter, darkened. Her lips were sightly parted, her breath soft as she laboured over him; strands of her hair slid back and forth across her shoulder as he looked up at her.
His cock wanted to explode. His brain urged him to wait, to not leave the heated embrace of her pussy. He tried to think about the memo he had to write, tried to think of the latch on the back window he needed to fix, but the soft wet sounds of their bodies meeting over and over drew him away from any thoughts but the way she felt clasped around him.
The scent of sex hung between them, of clean sweat, wine, strawberries and her pussy. Heady, tangy, spicy and he realised he'd been imprinted in some sense. Fuck. Like a lovesick boy. Only not so much.
He tipped to one side, taking over, increasing the speed and pressure of his thrusts. Taking it in her stride, she drew her knees up high, opening up, and it grabbed him by the balls.
'Make yourself come, Kate.' He was close, he wanted her there with him.
Her hand burrowed between them and she gasped softly as her fingers made contact with her clit. She held them there, letting the movement of his thrusts provide friction. Dix admired her restraint, the way she drew the pleasure out in tiny, incremental bits. She made him greedy, he wanted more, wanted to gorge himself of her.
Her eyelashes fluttered, her cunt tightened and she came with a soft exhalation of breath. It was too much to resist then and he pressed hard and deep as climax rushed up his spine and emptied endorphins into his system.
He rolled to the side and kissed her shoulder before he got up to dispose of the condom. Each time they were together she felt drawn closer to him emotionally. The last time it hadn't mattered so very much or seemed so big. She lived in Seattle and he in Harrisburg. She'd come home and accepted the offer and began to deal with the move within days of their last visit.
'So when are you moving? You never said.' He settled back beside her in bed.
'Now actually. I closed on a condo yesterday.'
'Why didn't you say anything, Kate?'
'I didn't know what to say. I didn't tell anyone actually. Well, I did tell my parents when I made the offer on the condo; I had to get some financial info from my dad. But I only told Leah yesterday. I needed to do it alone.'
'What do you mean you didn't know what to say?' He sat up.
'Do you want to do this right now? It's nearly midnight. We have early meetings.'
His mouth hardened into a flat line and he sighed. 'Let's get to sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow.'
'You can't sleep here! Oh my God, what if someone saw you leaving my room, or even coming in and then you never went home?'
'We're adults, Kate. This is stupid. I live fifteen minutes away. Why don't you sleep over there instead?'
'We can't be seen together like this. It's not professional. I have to be here early to deal with some faxes I'm expecting anyway. And I can't just stroll in five minutes before you and pretend we didn't spend the night together.'
'You did just fine after this afternoon's romp. Fuck professional. I think you're being unreasonable. No one cares.' He got up and began to put his clothes on.
'Easy for you to say.'
'What does that mean? Who are you, Kate?' He looked at her, his hands on his hips.
'It means men can make all sorts of decisions, do all sorts of things women can't do and be seen the same way. If we got caught by anyone at Allied you'd be fine. Hell, they'd wink-wink you and pat you on the back. I'd be the piece of ass.'
'That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. Who cares if someone knows we're having sex? It's not like a state secret.
This isn't the dark ages. You're a woman in the twenty-first century.'
'Get out. You don't know what you're talking about. Get out.' Rage made the warmth of their evening wear off. He didn't know anything. She'd learned the hard lessons about the difference between how men and women were perceived early on. She couldn't pay for his wilful blindness about the situation. She wouldn't.
'What are you pissed about? We're having a fight and I don't even know why.' He put his shoes on and she shoved his stuff into his hands as she moved him to the door.
'That's why we're fighting, Dix. Now go.'
'What is it with women? You all seem to expect us to read minds. I can't read minds. Just tell me what the issue is.'
'Well, now it's also that you actually had the audacity to compare me to all women.'
'I was married, it's not like I never dealt with a woman before.' Frustration was clear on his face and she wanted to whack him with a pillow.
'Did you just compare me to a woman who calls her ex-husband to open a jar of pickles because she's too inept to hit the bottom of the jar to displace the air in the seal?'
Recognition of his error crossed his face and then what must have been confusion about whether or not he should be mad or defensive replaced it.
'Just. Go. Go before you make it worse. Please.'
He shook his head and let out a long exhale. 'I don't even know why we're fighting. I want to wake up next to you and suddenly you're shoving me out of the door insulting my ex-wife. Help me understand.'
'Dix.' She paused, counting to ten. This wasn't a man who could be managed. She wouldn't have been attracted if he was. She appreciated he wanted to deal with their issues right then, but she wasn't sure of everything herself. It certainly wasn't something she wanted to try to parse out at midnight with another day and a half of the meeting left.
'Are you breaking things off? If so, you owe it to me to tell me why. We're good together.' Dix grabbed her hand and kissed it.
'No. I'm not. I don't even know what we have anyway. But I need some space to think and so do you. About what this is and how and if it can work. I'm tired and really annoyed with you and I need to sleep. Please.'
He dropped his stuff and took her into his arms. 'I know what this is. Damn it.' He kissed her hard and fast. 'But OK. I'll go and we will talk soon.'
After he left, she slid down the door at her back and sat on the floor for some time.
14
Brandon's gut churned. His dick had gone down but his balls still ached from unspent arousal. He took one hand from the steering wheel to tug at the crotch of his pants, but that gave no relief.
He could still smell her and taste her, and he doubted he'd ever forget the way she'd sounded when she came. It wasn't the first time he'd ever gone down on a woman, but it had never been like that before. The way she'd moved, the way she'd said his name . . . the sheer speed at which she'd had an orgasm. He'd never minded spending a while with his mouth between a woman's thighs, but he'd come to expect the necessity of taking his time. He'd been with Leah for ten, maybe twenty minutes from the time he walked into the room to the time she told him to leave.
His knees hurt too, and he grimaced when he downshifted into the turn on to his street. He'd blown one out playing soccer
in high school and the other had been messed up skiing. They didn't usually bother him unless he tried to do too much, but even in church he'd never spent that much time on his knees.
Now, thinking of it, he groaned aloud and punched the radio volume to turn it higher. Normally he listened to the radio or used his tuner to play his iPod, but his fingers fumbled on the controls. When the CD started it was like a jolt back in time.
Karen had made this CD for him, just before he'd discovered she'd been cheating on him. She'd surprised him with it, putting it in his car and leaving a note on the dashboard for him to play it. He didn't know exactly when she'd done it, because the sticky note had fallen off the dash and he hadn't found it until a week or so after they'd broken up. It was a CD of love songs and sex songs, as Karen had called them, and he'd never been able to convince himself she hadn't made it for her other boyfriend but only accidentally left it for him.
The song that came on first made him groan again. 'Lick'. A woman singing about the joys of cunnilingus. Fate was too cruel.
He pulled into an open spot in front of his building and turned off the ignition, but the music kept playing. His dick throbbed and his balls ached. He swiped his tongue over his lips, tasting her. He put his hand to his face, smelling her.
'Did you come here to fuck me?' She'd asked a question. He'd given her an answer. He'd made her come crying out his name, but when it was over she'd acted like it was all just part of the service, like using his tongue to make her come was the same as bringing her bagels and making sure there were enough water pitchers filled.
He should've been pissed. Instead, he was more turned on than he'd ever been in his life. Brandon shifted in his seat again, looking out on to the dark and empty street as he listened to the music Karen had chosen for him and thought about another woman's taste.
'I could let you fuck me,' Leah had said with her back turned to him. 'I'm sure you'd be very good at it.'
He hadn't said anything, not sure what she wanted him to say. She looked over her shoulder at him as she poured herself some more water and as she sipped. He'd had the feeling she was testing him again, maybe waiting to see if he were going to be an asshole and demand she let him have sex with her.
He didn't like it when women assumed they knew what he was like just because they'd met a few jerkwads along the way. Karen had assumed he was cheating on her, so she said, because that's what good-looking guys did. She'd used it as an excuse for lying to him. The fact he'd never even looked at another girl the entire time they'd been together hadn't meant anything.
'Tell me something,' Leah had said when he didn't answer. 'Did you like that? What I asked you to do?'
'Yes.'
Her dark-blue eyes had left him feeling she could see right through him. 'I want you to go home now, Brandon.'
He couldn't help the way he reacted when she said his name like that. Soft and low and full of promise. She'd lifted her chin as though she expected him to protest.
But, even though his dick was so hard he thought it might tear a hole in his pants, and even though he wanted to pin her back against that table and slide inside, to lose himself in her slick heat, Brandon had only nodded. He didn't speak, not trusting his voice.
'I want you to think about me tonight when you're jerking that fine thick cock in those big strong hands.'
He'd been ashamed by his groan, but she only looked pleased and a little startled. He thought now it was because of what
she'd told him about that asshole, Mike, and how he always wanted to be in charge, but, at the time, all he'd been able to do was focus on not making a fool of himself by spilling in his pants like a kid.
'You'll do that for me, won't you?' Say it, he'd thought, holding back a breath.
'Brandon?'
'Yes!'
'And tomorrow,' Leah had said quietly, pinning him in place with nothing but her gaze and the sound of her voice, 'you'll tell me exactly what you did. Exactly how it felt. I want to know every detail of it.'
'And . . . then?'
'Then,' she'd said, 'if I like what I hear, and you've pleased me again, then maybe I'll let you fuck me.'
With that, she'd dismissed him.
And he'd gone, like a lapdog.
No matter how often he had to do it for his job, Brandon detested being made to jump through hoops. He thought about calling her a bitch, but the word wouldn't come. It didn't fit. There was a difference in someone making demands just to watch him squirm and what Leah had done. He couldn't have said what it was. He just felt it.
It was the look in her eyes, something vulnerable. And surprise, like she never really expected him to do what she asked. And lust, unmistakable, when he did.
What bothered him more than anything wasn't that she seemed to be playing some sort of game that only she knew the rules to, but that she assumed he didn't want to play too.
'Bad Touch' by the Bloodhound Gang came on next and Brandon stabbed the radio silent. He took a few deep breaths and swiped his hands through his hair. He pressed the front of his bulging crotch until he could get out of the car.
He felt feverish. Sweaty. The dull ache in the pit of his stomach reminded him of the time he'd been hit full-on in the nuts by a soccer ball. He'd gone down on the field clutching his junk without even the breath to scream and that had been bad enough, but it was the dull throb that had persisted for hours after that had really messed him up.
His knees creaked in protest as he got out and shut the car door. He lived on the top floor of an old brownstone, converted to apartments. Three in all, his the smallest.
Two guys he thought might be a couple lived in the middle apartment, but he hardly ever saw them. The ground-floor pad housed a trio of girls just out of college who all worked downtown: Chris, Kris and Crissy. It was like a bad 70s jiggle sitcom sometimes and tonight was no exception.
'Brandon!' Their door opened and Crissy looked out as he paused to check his mailbox.
Mail in hand, Brandon climbed the three steps to the first landing. 'Hi, Crissy.'
'We're having a party to celebrate. Chris got a new job. Come in!'
It was already late, and only a Tuesday. He had to work in the morning. His crotch twinged as he moved and he thought of Leah.
'Sure. OK. I could use a beer.'
'Goody!' She clapped and stepped aside, but not too much, to let him in.
His arm brushed her full breasts as he passed. His dick, already at half-mast, responded. He thought of junior high, when all the boys had taken to carrying a notebook with them at all times so they'd have something to hold in front of them if they got an unexpected hard-on.
Not that this one was unexpected. Heck, a breeze could blow on him the right way tonight and he'd get hard. Brandon tried not to look down Crissy's blouse as she took him by the elbow to lead him further into the apartment.
'Look, guys! It's Brandon!'
He knew Chris and Kris by sight, and some of the other faces turning to greet him looked familiar too, but thankfully Crissy was already pulling him into the kitchen for a beer so he didn't have to actually say anything to anyone.
Two beers later, the buzz in his head was finally managing to put a bit of a damper on the buzz between his legs.
He was on the couch with Chris on one side and Kris on the other, while a giggling Crissy settled on his lap with an arm around his neck to serve him a shot of tequila he didn't want.
Brandon had a double handful of taut thighs, soft breasts, firm buttocks. He was drowning in tits and ass. Under Crissy's elliptically trained butt, his cock was as stiff as it could get, trapped against his thigh.
'C'mon, it's a party,' Crissy said as she put the shot glass to his mouth.
'I have to work tomorrow!' He didn't mean to let his hand wander up and down her bare thigh, but it was there and so was his hand and, God, she felt so good.
On either side of him, the couch dipped as more people piled on or got off. The tang of pot tickled his nose and he fought a s
neeze. Crissy wriggled on his erection and there was no way she couldn't notice he was sporting a steel rod in his pants.
'How come you never party with us?' Crissy asked into his ear. 'You're a party pooper.'
'I have to . . . work. . .' He couldn't finish when she shifted on his lap, her tight ass settling just right on his hard dick.
'All work and no play makes Brandon a dull boy, you know.' Crissy looked into his eyes.
His mouth was already open when she kissed him. She tasted like tequila and corn chips and smoke, and she kissed without much finesse but with a whole lot of enthusiasm. She was warm and willing in his arms but, when she broke the kiss to whisper an invitation into his ear, all Brandon could do was sit and stare at her.