“Miller.” She hisses out my name, and I look up to see that her hands are still above her head.
I push her pants down and remove her right shoe, tossing it over my shoulder, and the minute her foot is free from the boot, I peel her pants leg off. I kiss up her bare leg, stopping to bite it and then suck at certain places. The sound of her heavy breathing fills the room. It would take nothing to move her over to the couch and have her sit and spread for me, but I have to taste her. I move the jersey up and see her white lace thong, my tongue comes out to lick up again. My finger moves the lace to the side, and I see her little landing strip, my tongue comes out and licks between her lips, and now, it’s both of us who moan.
“Honey,” I tell her, putting one leg over my shoulder to make her open for me. “Fuck,” I say, going in again, and this time, I lick all the way up to her clit. She moves her hips side to side, trying to get my tongue on her. I use my thumb to open her up for me, sucking on her clit while I slip my other finger into her. I close my eyes as I bite her clit and add another finger inside her. “Gorgeous,” I say, licking her up and down and then slipping my tongue into her with my fingers. “I could spend all day here.” My finger moves in and out of her as her back arches off the door, and her hands slip down a bit. “Tell me.” My fingers are slick with her juices. “Did you think of me?”
“Yes,” she says, her eyes now looking down at me.
“Did you touch yourself thinking of me?” I ask, biting her clit and then sucking in, and she comes on my fingers.
Her hands bury themselves in my hair, and I stop my fingers from fucking her while she comes. She groans out in frustration now. “Miller.”
“Put your hands back up, and I’ll make you come again,” I tell her, and she moves her hands back up beside her head. My fingers now fuck her faster and harder than I did before. My mouth sucks in her clit and her slit all in one. I can tell she is close again because my fingers are getting tighter and tight.
“Miller,” she says my name again.
“Shh,” I tell her. “I’m eating,” I say, devouring her pussy with my mouth. With my fingers and tongue, I make her come again, and right before she finishes, I rub her G-spot with my fingers and make her come again. I lick her clean, and when I slip my fingers out of her, she watches me lick them clean.
“That was …” she starts to say, her hands falling by her sides like cooked noodles. “That was …” I put her leg down. “That was …”
I laugh. “Was it that?” I joke with her, and she just looks at me. Her head comes forward as she attacks my mouth. Her tongue slips into my mouth as she grips my chest now. I feel her pull the shirt up. One hand slipping under the shirt while the other hand palms my cock.
“Is there a light?” she asks when she lets go of my mouth, and her fingers work the button of my shirt.
“Why?” I ask her.
“I want to see it all,” she says, and I throw my head back and laugh. She lets go of me, walking to the wall. Kicking off her other shoe, she then takes her pants off. She turns on the soft light that is on the table. She stands there wearing just the jersey that covers her. “That’s better.”
“Is it?” I ask, and she nods, coming over to me, she gets on her tippy toes and kisses under my chin right before she bites it. “Now,” she says, unbuttoning my white shirt. “Let’s see what all the fuss is about.” She winks at me.
“I don’t even know what to say to that,” I tell her, and she slips the shirt over my shoulders, and I let it fall to the floor where it lies right next to her jeans.
“I like,” she says, using her finger to trail down the middle of my chest. “Now for the main event.” She winks at me. I watch her small hands unbutton my pants, and they fall to the floor, leaving me in my black Hugo Boss boxers, and the tip of my cock trying to push out. “Oh, I really like this,” she says, and before she says anything else, she is on her knees in front of me. My boxers are now under my ass, and my cock is in her mouth. My eyes close as I feel her mouth take my whole cock. I look down, seeing my name on the jersey as she sucks my cock with everything that she has. I move my hips, putting my hands in her hair as I fuck her mouth.
“I think,” she says, taking her mouth off my cock and licking up my shaft. “I love your cock.” She twirls her tongue around the tip. “Fuck, it’s perfect,” she says. Her hand fists it, moving it up and down. “Long, thick …” She takes it in her mouth.
“I’m glad you approve,” I say, my hips moving front and back. It doesn’t take me long to feel the need to come. After going all night and all day thinking about her and making her come, I knew that I wouldn’t last long the first time. “I’m going to come.”
“Good,” she says, taking her mouth off my cock, and she surprises me by putting her mouth back on my cock.
Her hand moves up and down faster. “Gorgeous,” I say right before I shoot in her mouth. She swallows it all, never letting it go until the last drop. “Fuck.”
“Not yet,” she says, getting up. “But yes, please.”
I push the hair away from her face and kiss her lips. “Not tonight,” I tell her, and she glares at me.
“We just went to third base,” I tell her, and she throws her head back.
“Yeah, I want a home run.” She practically stomps her foot, making me laugh. I grab her and throw her over my shoulder, slapping her ass. “Miller.”
“I have to still make you come five times,” I remind her.
“One of those times can be you fucking my brains out,” she tells me as I walk through my house to my bedroom. I toss her on the bed, and she just looks at me. Her hair all over the place, her legs spread as I get on the bed with her. “Don’t bring that cock here unless you plan on using it.”
“Oh, I’m going to use it,” I tell her, and the smile fills her face. “I’m planning on using it right now.”
She slaps her hands together in glee. “Condom?” she says, looking at me, and I finally take the jersey off her. She sits in the middle of my bed now, her perfect round tits sitting in a lace bra being pushed up.
“Hmm,” I say, moving the cup down off a nipple and seeing it ready to be played with. “Hello.” Leaning down, I twirl my tongue around it. Her legs open, and I see that her panties are still pushed to the side, leaving her open. I move over to the other nipple, and my finger slips into her at the same time I bite down and suck it.
“Condom,” she says, almost panting. I smile now, slipping my finger out and rubbing her wetness on her nipple, then bending to clean it off. “Miller,” she huffs out.
I put my knees by her hips and rip her bra off her. “You know what else kept me up?” I ask, her mouth hanging open at the torn bra that I toss to the side. “These,” I say, grabbing her tits and rolling the nipples. “Your tits are perfect.”
“Good, they cost me a fortune,” she says, and it’s my turn now to look shocked. I feel her tits again. “A perfect size B,” she says. I push them together, and my cock is at full salute now.
“I want you to watch,” I tell her as my hips push forward, “while I fuck your tits and fuck you with my fingers.” She looks down as I slip my cock between her tits. “Hold your tits tight for me,” I tell her, and her hands come up and squeeze her tits together as I move up and down. My hand reaches behind me to slip into her. “I’m going to destroy you,” I tell her, my hips moving faster, and the little minx sticks out her tongue to lick the tip of my cock. “When I finally fuck you, I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to feel me for a whole week.”
“Yes,” she says, moving her hips up to meet my fingers. “I’m going to come,” she says, and her head falls back as she comes again. Her juices run down my fingers as I slip them out of her. “I can’t move.”
I move away from her now and smirk at her. “Gorgeous,” I say, leaning down and slipping my tongue into her mouth. “We’ve only just started.” She looks at me, her eyes heavy, and I lie on the bed on my back. “Now,” I tell her. “Climb on
me and ride my face.”
Chapter 25
Layla
“I’m Layla Paterson, and I wish you a great weekend,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “And don’t forget to tune into the game tonight and then again on Sunday.”
“It is going to be a tough weekend,” Brian says. “Vegas is coming to town, and they are on a winning streak.”
“They are,” I agree, “but so is Dallas.”
“I think they need to win the next two games because then they go on the road for six days, and you know that it’s going to be rough,” he says. I try not to let it bother me that Miller is going to be gone.
“Well, we will be back Monday with all the news. Stay safe, everybody.” I take my headphones off. “That was a good show,” I say. He nods, and I get up, putting my hand up to tell him goodbye.
I make my way to my office, where I grab my laptop and my bag, checking my phone and seeing that I have a text from Candace.
Candace: Are you ever going to call me back?
I laugh, thinking of when she called me on Wednesday while I was in the middle of watching a movie with Miller. I couldn’t even think about answering because he had my shirt up to my neck, my tits loose while he fucked me with his fingers. For the past five days, we’ve been together every single night. He usually picks me up, and we have dinner. Then we get hot and heavy right before he drops me off at home. I swear, this man is going to make me rip my hair out.
I dial her number as I walk out of the office. “Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” she says, answering after one ring, and I laugh.
“I am a cat,” I tell her, getting into the car. “A cat in motherfucking heat.” I slam the door and pull out of the parking lot.
“It’s been a week,” she says, shocked.
“It’s been eight days,” I huff out. “Eight days. I can’t even count the hours.”
“I have no words,” she says.
“Well, I have a couple of words,” I say. “He’s a grower, he’s a shower, and so help me God, he better be a plower.”
Candace laughs now. “I’m not kidding. He’s given me more orgasms than I can count, and still he hasn’t given me the proper fucking he claims he’s going to give me,” I huff out.
“Why don’t you just take things in your own hands?” She pushes me. “Climb that man like a tree.”
“You don’t think I’ve tried.” I roll my eyes. “He just picks me up and tosses me around like a rag doll and then eats my pussy until I forget everything.”
“Ewww,” she says, and I laugh. “You were on speakerphone.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.” I hear Ralph and laugh.
“Ralph, do me a favor and ask him why he isn’t giving me the dick,” I say loudly, and he groans out.
“The last thing I’m going to talk to Miller about is his dick and where he puts it,” he says. “Now, I’m going to go and pretend I didn’t have this conversation.”
“I can tell you right now where he should put it,” I say, laughing. “I’ll see you guys later.” I hang up and then call the man we are talking about.
“Hey there, gorgeous,” he says, and I smile like a love-sick idiot. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Really?” I say, tapping the steering wheel. “Well, were your ears ringing because I was just talking about you.” He laughs. “I was telling Candace and Ralph about how you don’t want to give me your dick.”
“Layla.” When he says my name, I know he’s mad. Over the past five days, the only time he has called me Layla was when he was pissed about something. “You did not talk about my dick with Ralph.”
“Yes,” I say, and he groans.
“I thought we said we would be private,” he says.
“I thought you said you were going to fuck me senseless!” I shout. He laughs now.
“Are you coming to the game tonight?” he asks, and I want to tell him no. “Why don’t you pack a bag and stay the night?”
“Are you going to give me what I want?” I ask, and he laughs. “I’m not kidding.”
“Text me to tell me if you are going to meet me at the game or be at my house after,” he says. “Be safe, gorgeous.”
I arrive at the game with Candace, wearing black jeans and a thick brown sweater with a thick collar. He notices my suede knee-high boots right away. He winks at me during his warm-up, and they end up winning the game with ten seconds to go when the puck bounces off his stick by accident. It’s a great game, and he walks out, smiling at the end of the game carrying his jacket. “There he is,” I say, pushing away from the car. “The number one star.”
“Ohh,” he says, putting his arm around my waist. “Are you my prize?”
“I’m whatever you want me to be.” I kiss him, and he opens the door for me.
“Those boots …” He shakes his head. “Got my cock hard already.”
I sit in the seat. “If this got you hot”—I wink at him—“wait until you see what I have on under this.” He hisses. Shutting the door, we get to the house, and he looks at me. “You didn’t pack a bag.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I plan on being naked all weekend long. What do I need clothes for?”
I get out of the car and walk into the house, and I’m surprised that he hasn’t already attacked me. “What is going on?” I ask when we step into the living room.
He looks at me. “What do you mean?” My heart speeds up when I see a look I haven’t seen before on his face.
“I mean, you didn’t attack me when we walked in,” I say. “You didn’t even try to feel me up in the car.” He looks at me. “Oh my God, you don’t find me attractive,” I finally say, my stomach falling. “Is that why you haven’t had sex with me? Oh my God,” I say, wanting to escape or have the floor open and swallow me.
“Are you insane?” he tells me. “I’ve been walking around with my cock hard for the past eight days.”
“So then why?” I ask him. “Why haven’t we had sex?”
“Because,” he shouts, “I don’t want it to just be sex! I want this to be more. I want to cook for you and for it to be romantic,” he says, and I look at him. “I’ve never been down this road before.” I don’t have a chance to say anything. “I don’t want us to just have sex, and then that’s it..”
“Is that why you haven’t had sex with me?” I ask, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Us having sex will be the final step, and,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets, “I don’t want this to be over.”
“What do you want?” I ask, holding my hands together so he doesn’t see them shaking.
“I want a relationship with you,” he says. “I want to have sex with you but not be scared that you’re going to walk out of that door tomorrow, and it’ll be over.” He sits down on his couch. “We’ve both had no-strings sex.” His voice goes low. “I don’t want that to be with us.”
“You want a relationship with me?” I know he said more after that, but that’s the only thing I actually heard. “I mean.”
“I don’t want you to date anyone else,” he finally says. “I don’t want to date anyone else.”
“I’m not dating anyone else,” I say. “I also don’t want you dating anyone else.”
“So you like me?” he asks, smirking at me.
“Of course, I like you,” I say, trying to be smooth about this by ignoring the way my heart is pounding in my chest. “Do you think I would still be here after eight days if I didn’t like you?”
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I haven’t really done this thing before.” I swallow when he says that. “I’ve never been with someone who I want to see all the time. I haven’t been with someone who drives me crazy and then makes me laugh all in the same breath.” I laugh and go sit next to him. “I want you to know that this isn’t just to get you into my bed,” he says, and I smile now, looking down and feeling my wide smile hurting my cheeks. “Layla, I’ve chased you for four years, not even thinking
about the day after. But now that I’ve been with you, I don’t just want to be that one night.”
I lean over and whisper, “I don’t want it to be just one night, either.” I don’t tell him that I like him so much it scares me. I don’t tell him that I’ve been trying not to overthink things or read too much into things. I don’t tell him that if he didn’t call me tomorrow, I would be heartbroken. I don’t tell him that for the past eight days, I’ve woken up thinking about him. I think about him all day, and when I go to bed at night, I want to be with him.
I watch him get up, and then he holds out his hand for me, and I put my hand in his. “I have a surprise for you,” he says softly, and I laugh.
“I’ve already seen your surprise,” I say, and he laughs, now his eyes light are brown.
“Not that,” he says. He pulls me to his bedroom, and I stay stopped at the doorway when I see what he meant by a surprise. The whole bedroom has candles lit. I look around, and I swear I’ve never seen so many candles in my life. “I was going to do the whole roses things, but I thought it might have been overkill.”
I ignore the pain in my chest and put my hands to my face, blinking away the stinging of my eyes. “You know,” I say, “when you asked me what was the most romantic thing someone has ever done for me?”
“Yeah,” he says, standing in the middle of his bedroom at the foot of his bed.
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