He licked her lips with the tip of his tongue and she opened her mouth to him. And with her arms wrapped around his neck, he pillaged her mouth, demanding and taking. She met his demands with her own passion, and he growled against her mouth.
She faltered when his hand cupped her sex, and she stopped responding to his kiss altogether when he slid a finger into her tightness.
And holy hell was she tight.
His cock strained against his pants, and he pumped his finger in and out of her slowly before swiping the wet digit over her clit. With a cry, her mouth left his.
Her eyes were closed, her arms around his neck to hold herself up, and he watched her expression as he worked her body. She was so fucking open, so sexy and wanting and beautiful, that it twisted something in his chest. One finger inside of her, then two, thrusting where he wanted his dick to be so badly. He rubbed her clit with his thumb as he worked her, and when she was close to breaking, he slowed, needing to watch her for just a few more seconds.
“Let go, beautiful,” he said, voice gruff.
At his words, she broke around him, her pussy contracting around his fingers, her body shaking as he held her. A moan on her lips.
He pulled his fingers from her and traced her sex softly with his fingertips. And when her pretty green eyes fluttered open, pressure settled on his chest.
He was in so much fucking trouble.
His expression was serious. The flirtation he’d worn since they’d met up at the bar had disappeared, and something harder, more intense, remained.
When he was sure she was balanced on the wall behind her, he stepped back. Eyes never leaving hers, he slowly unbuckled his belt and opened his pants. He pushed down his underwear and pants only a bit, just enough so his cock sprang free.
His thick, long, hard cock.
She licked her lips and tried to drag her eyes away. That was rude, right? Staring at a guy’s equipment like it was some sort of ice cream on a hot day?
If it was rude, he didn’t seem to care. He reached into his back pocked and pulled out a condom. Without a moment’s hesitation, he rolled it down his hardness. Then he closed the gap between them and gave her a soft kiss on her lips. No tongue, almost sweet.
She leaned into it before she caught herself. No. She wasn’t here for sweetness. This wasn’t real. It was a fantasy that could only last two weeks before reality would again take hold.
Her stomach clenched at the idea, and she pushed away the unsettled feeling that had suddenly hit her. She had to get control of this back.
“Are you going to kiss me or screw me?” she asked. Ha. Take that. None of that sweet stuff here.
He took the bait. The arrogant grin returned and he slid his hands up to grip her ass.
“Legs around my waist,” he ordered.
Oh, she liked that. Just a little cop-ish authority. With his help, she wrapped herself around him, her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He shoved her skirt up around her waist and braced her back against the brick wall. With a twist of his hips, the tip of his cock teased her entrance.
“Think you’re ready for me, baby?” he said, voice rough with need.
Power surged through her, giving her even more confidence. She’d made this man want her. This man. A tall, sexy cop for crying out loud. If that wasn’t power, she didn’t know what was.
“I think you should shut up and fuck me already.”
He cursed under his breath and pushed into her. His cock slid into her easily, she was so wet. But, almost painful in its size, his organ stretched her. She gasped as he pumped in and out of her slowly, allowing her body to get used to his size. Then with a sudden thrust, he penetrated her completely.
She moaned at the sudden fullness, and she would have sworn in that moment that nothing had ever felt so right, so perfect, as this gentle giant of a cop fucking her in an alley behind a bar.
A tiny niggling voice in her head screamed she was a slut, that this whole situation was ridiculous. Who fucked a guy she’d just met—and in an alley? Something of her doubt must have crossed her expression, because he stopped moving.
“Hey,” he murmured. “Look at me.”
She blinked and looked up from his still-clothed chest to meet his eyes.
“This is okay—it’s not wrong to indulge in a fantasy. And it’s not wrong to want things even if you can’t explain why.”
Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them back. He leaned forward and kissed her tenderly on the lips.
Then she was kissing him back, but there was nothing tender about her mouth on his. If she was going to indulge in this new, unexpected fantasy, she was doing it at one hundred percent. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, and using the wall for leverage, did her best to match his rhythm.
Hips thrusting against her, he fucked her against the brick wall, no longer gentle and slow, but fast and rhythmic. Pleasure built between her legs as he muttered dirty things in her ear. The wall was rough against her back, scraping her through her shirt. And he cool night air tickled her legs while the dark, masculine scent of Officer Drake filled her nose and mouth.
Pressure built in her so strongly that she writhed against him, seeking release. He seemed to understand and moved one of the hands that held her between them. He rubbed her clit softly even as his cock thrust into her, rough and hard.
“You like that?” he said, voice rough. “Then fucking show me. I want to feel that pussy come around my cock.”
The orgasm crashed into her with his rough words, vibrating through her whole body. He must have felt it, because he cursed and moved his hands to her hips, pushing her harder against the brick wall. And he pumped into her so hard she knew she’d be bruised for days, from the painful grip of his hands on her hips, and the wall she braced against.
He cried out and spasmed as he came, his face buried in her hair. And they stood there a moment, holding each other and coming down from their bit of heaven.
Yep, she was definitely going to be bruised. But after that, who the hell cared about bruises?
Chapter 3
The lock stuck and it took him a few seconds of jangling the keys to get the door to his townhouse open. Michelle followed him in, her face scrunched with obvious worry. The few moments they’d had after they’d experienced the best sex of his life in that alley had been amazing. In that moment, he’d never felt closer to anyone in his life, and he would have sworn that she felt the same.
Then the moment passed.
After he’d pulled away, and they’d both sorted themselves out, awkwardness had settled over them. The awkwardness had grown as they’d walked to his townhouse—only a couple of blocks away from the bar—until the feeling was almost palpable. He hated it, but wasn’t sure what to do to make her more comfortable.
They were strangers, after all. Which was a problem he wanted to correct. But it would take time—more than the two weeks she wanted to allot them.
“You want something to drink?”
She bit her lower lip, and he couldn’t help but remember doing the same thing. Her lip between his teeth. Her legs wrapped around him. Her moans filling the air.
He shook his head to clear it. Now was not the time to reminisce about sex they’d had only fifteen minutes ago.
“Do you have Pepsi?”
“Coke okay?”
She made a stinky face at him. “Coke man, huh? Good thing this isn’t anything serious.”
A grin tugged on his mouth. “You can only date Pepsi men, huh?”
“Of course.” Her expression turned dead serious. “I mean, how could I date a man who likes Coke? I’d never be able to introduce that kind of guy to my mother.”
He laughed, and some of the tension in his gut faded. “Well, I’m sorry you have to slum it for the night.”
“I’ll make it through somehow. Probably counseling.” Her serious expression faded, spoiled by a bright smile that took his breath away.
They walked to the kitchen
and he retrieved them both drinks from the refrigerator.
“Thanks,” she said when he handed her the Coke. “Nice place you have here.”
He’d finished redoing the kitchen only a couple of months before, and would normally have jumped at the opportunity to tell the harrowing story of how they’d almost lost one of the granite countertop slabs because of his buddy’s dog. But in that moment, the kitchen was the furthest thing from his mind.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said instead.
She licked her lips. “Is that an order, officer?”
His cock hardened at her words and playful tone, but he was determined to move the conversation into personal territory. Not just because she seemed to be attempting to avoid just that, but also because he had a feeling that she’d been completely serious when she’d mentioned this being a temporary thing for her.
“You have to give me something. You were so specific about how long this could last. You’ve got me curious.” He kept his tone light, teasing.
“Oh, all right. I’m starting grad school in a couple of weeks. Until then, I’m enjoying a taste of freedom.” She leaned forward and grinned at him from across the breakfast bar. “And I have to say, I like the flavor.”
He laughed, and she blushed, the rose hue making her even prettier.
“Good thing you didn’t try to pick me up at the bar with that line,” he said.
“Totally lame right?”
“It’s okay. You’re sexy enough to get away with it.”
She sounded laid back about the whole thing, but she wasn’t fooling him. He’d been a cop for a few years, and had learned to spot a liar out of necessity. Her words, her demeanor, were masks. Oh, he had no doubt that she wanted to be exactly what she was trying to be—a woman who easily talked dirty and dropped men after she got bored of them. But he wasn’t buying it. He knew people, and this was far from her norm.
“Am I?” She quirked a perfectly formed eyebrow at him and then walked slowly around the table. She suddenly reminded him of a large cat, stalking something it very much wanted to eat.
Before he could turn the conversation back to her, back to where it needed to be, she stood close to him. Her scent touched him and he took in a long breath of air. God, she smelled good. Like woman and sex and sin.
Her hand was on his belt buckle before he could even think to stop her.
“We’re not done talking, Michelle. I—”
Eyes locked on his, she went down to her knees and suddenly it didn’t matter that they hadn’t gotten her story out of her yet. Hell, if she wanted to distract him for a little while longer, he was okay with that.
“Fuck,” he ground out when she pulled his pants down to his thighs and freed his cock from his underwear. But instead of pulling her back to her feet, he watched her, riveted.
“Were you saying something, Officer Drake?” she asked, voice deceptively innocent. Without waiting for his reply, she closed her grip around his cock and leaned forward to lick him, long and slow.
He bit back a moan and slid his hand into her silky hair, and when she leaned in and took his tip into her mouth and sucked softly—too softly—he cursed.
She pulled back and gave him a sultry grin. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to talk about something right now?”
A snarl touched his mouth and, using his grip on her hair, he guided her mouth back to his aching dick. “Shut up and suck it.”
She chuckled, took him in her mouth, more than before. And before long, her lips were stretched around him and he was coated in her saliva. A groan escaped him as he watched himself slide into that smart mouth of hers. With every slide, she took more of him, until he could feel himself touching the back of her throat. She hummed around him, and he gripped her hair, guiding her but not forcing her movement.
Hell, she might not be as experienced or as laid back as she wanted to appear, but the woman knew how to make a man crazy with her mouth and tongue. He panted, the sensation almost overwhelming, and she moved faster. He struggled against the urge to hold her in place by her hair and fuck her pretty mouth.
Then she slowed, and his effort to hold still redoubled. With one long movement, she took him all the way to the back of her throat. His balls brushing her chin, she swallowed around him, milking his cock.
“Fuck, Michelle. I’m going to come,” he managed. But she didn’t move. The pressure in his balls built, and she fucked him with her mouth, moving faster, harder, now that he was close. It was pleasure. Torture. Holding back was almost painful, but he didn’t want the perfect moment to end.
His hips bucked forward, almost of their own volition, and he tightened his grip in her hair. Pleasure ran through his whole body, starting with his dick, but not stopping there. He shuddered from the intensity of it, and his cock twitched over and over, shooting his load down her throat.
“Fuck,” he gasped.
She held him there until his aftershocks abated, swallowing around his length, then released him carefully and tucked him back into his boxer briefs.
Stunned, he just watched her.
“Good to know what shuts you up,” she said, voice hoarse.
He laughed. “Yeah, that’ll work every time. But we still need to talk.”
Her expression turned dark and she pushed up from the ground, batting him when he attempted to help her up. “God, I thought chicks were the ones obsessed with making stuff personal. Aren’t you supposed to be angling to get me out of your apartment right about now? Seriously, the clingy thing isn’t attractive.”
“Just because I want your phone number doesn’t make me your bitch.” What the hell was her problem?
“Whatever,” she said. “I’m tired and I’m going home. Thanks for the Coke.”
With that, she turned on her heel and headed out the door.
He cursed and buttoned his pants. She’d made it to his front steps by the time he caught up to her.
“Are you stalking me now?” she asked, shooting him an irritated glance over her shoulder.
“I’m making sure you get back to the bar okay.” He wanted to shake her, but he couldn’t leave her out in the dark alone to walk back, no matter how pissed he was.
She stopped in her tracks, but didn’t turn around. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” Her words sounded sincere, and he bit back a frustrated sigh.
They walked the rest of the way to the bar in silence, side by side, but with a gulf between them he wasn’t sure how to begin to cross.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“Nope. But I’ve got friends inside. Or I’ll take a cab back home.” She hesitated a few feet from the entrance, then spun around and tiptoed to plant a kiss on his cheek.
Their eyes met, and he pushed down the urge to grab her, make her talk to him. Question her like she was a suspect in some sort of terrible crime.
“Thanks for a fun night, officer.”
“Anytime,” he said, and despite his frustration, he meant it.
She offered him a small smile, then turned and walked into the bar.
Using every bit of self-control at his disposal, he didn’t follow.
Michelle stared at the class list on the computer, squinting through the early morning sunlight peeking through her drapes. If only she’d been able to sleep in longer, maybe she wouldn’t feel so odd. Almost…depressed. But the restless feeling she’d had since leaving Drake’s the night before made her sleep fitful, and she’d finally thrown in the towel and gotten up at six.
Her schedule on the screen confirmed what she already knew. She was fully registered, ready to go. Schoolbooks purchased, and she’d even mapped out the quickest route between classes. The only thing missing was her two-week man to have fun with until she had to get back to reality. Well, that and furniture. She really needed to pick up something other than the old yard-sale table and chairs. A couch, at least.
Why’d he have to go and ruin it?
Men, in her experience, didn’t want commitment
. Sure, her experience was limited to men younger than the officer, who looked like he was in his late twenties, but still. She’d felt safe with him, safe enough to explore desires that she didn’t even realize she’d had until when he’d mentioned the alley.
And then she’d given him the best damn blowjob of her life, and he’d still pressed her to talk after. The worst part was that she’d wanted to talk to him. To confide in him. To trust him with more than her body. Which was silly—they were barely more than strangers.
She couldn’t run away fast enough.
It wasn’t fair to him, she knew that. The issues that kept her from wanting to spend any serious time with him stemmed from the fact that Officer Drake wasn’t in her plan. But she could see him sneaking in and taking over before she knew what hit her. She’d allowed a man to become very attached before, and she still couldn’t shake Gavin, no matter how hard she tried. What if the same thing happened with Drake? Was it worth the risk?
With a heavy heart, she shut down her computer. She was probably overthinking all this anyway. Just because the man had wanted to talk to her didn’t mean that he was pushing. And her overreaction had practically guaranteed that the he would never want to talk to her again, let alone give her more mind-shattering orgasms.
And wow, the experience she’d had with him had been amazing. But maybe that was part of it, too. The idea that she’d let go and given in to one of her most hidden fantasies—a fantasy she barely admitted to herself. What if he looked down on her for it when the sun came up?
Then again, what if he didn’t?
She tugged her cell phone from her purse and hit the button to turn it on for the first time since she’d shut it off at the bar. There would no doubt be messages from her mother, asking her to check in since she hadn’t for a couple of days. And maybe one or two dirty texts from Kristy from when she’d been talking to Drake.
She was right. A dirty text from Kristy suggesting a sexual position with Drake that was physically improbable. Plus a couple of messages from Gavin—her ex. Messages that went from hopeful to obviously irritated. Great.
Never Let Go: A Collection of Sensual Short Stories Page 5