Metal & Lace (An Opposites Attract Novel Book 1)

by Black, Lena

  Her body is fuckin’ bangin’. What is she so shy about? Then it comes to me.

  “Come in, baby. The water’s fine,” I comment skimming my arms over the surface.

  “It’s not the water I’m worried about.” She smirks at me and steps inside. That says a lot right there.

  “Quit testing the water and get the fuck in already.”

  She submerges into the pool, dunking her head beneath. When she comes up, her hair is out of its tie and it hangs about her shoulders, dripping. I swim over to her, keeping a few feet between us.

  “He didn’t compliment you, did he?” I inquire.

  The look on her face says it all. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your ex, he didn’t compliment you, did he?”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “The way you feel so unsure of yourself. That’s not just from the breakup. That’s years of shit built up.”

  “Yes,” she breathes out, looking at me as if she’s amazed by my intuitiveness. “Nothing I ever did was good enough. I was never good enough for him.”

  “That’s bullshit, Lace. You’re too good for him and he knew it. He kept you down because the second you realized you deserved better, you’d leave his sorry ass.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  I simply reply, “Experience.”

  “Well, you’re good.”

  I smirk at her.

  “And you’re hot, baby. Grade A.”

  “So…what are you doing all the way over there?”

  I move closer to her, latching onto the curve of her waist and pull her into me. She enfolds her limbs about me, allowing me to take her deeper into the pool, our legs tangling below the surface.

  “May I ask you something?”

  “Sure can.”

  “What is that thing on your…” She glances down at my pecker.

  “It’s a frenum piercing.”

  “Ouch,” she murmurs, squeezing her thighs together, contorting her face at a phantom pain. “Does it bother you during sex?”

  “The opposite. It makes it better for both of us.” Tilting my face in, I kiss her neck and say, “Any other questions, baby doll?”

  She nods her head and blurts out, “Do you have a girlfriend, Gunnar?”

  “No.”

  What the fuck is she getting at?

  “Do you want one?” I cock my brow at her. “I mean, what is it you’re looking for right now?”

  I better tread lightly here, or I may scare her off. What I am I supposed to say to her, I just want to fuck you a few times then send you packing? Could I do that to her? She’s actually sweet and just so…pure. I know she isn’t a virgin or anything, but she’s a good girl. Not like the whores I usually plow. It makes me feel like a deviant.

  “I have no established plan for my life,” I finally answer, figuring if I’m vague enough she’d just let it go. “Whatever happens, happens.”

  “Oh,” she seems to perk up, “well, that’s actually good.”

  “Is that right?” I ask, slightly stunned.

  “I’m not looking for anything serious. I just don’t want to label anything, you know?”

  “You just want to fuck.”

  “Well…yeah, I guess.”

  “The girl who’s too afraid to loosen up and go skinny dipping is just looking for a good fuck?”

  “Why is that so hard to believe?”

  “You’re not the type. Sure, you have a wild, dirty side just begging to come out and play, but you aren’t the fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type. I would know. I am…I mean,” I snap her bra strap, “come on. You’re a little goody two shoes.”

  She pushes away from me. For a second, I’m sure she’s mad, but then she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra, tossing it at my head. Then her shoulders dip under the waterline and she slides off her panties, throwing those at my head, too.

  “How’s that for a goody two shoes?”

  “I think that was easier than I thought it would be.”

  She splashes me with water. “Fuck you.”

  I jump at her, grabbing her wrist and yank her into me. “That’s the plan, baby doll.”

  I plant my hand on the back of her head, pulling her mouth onto mine, probing it roughly with my eager tongue. She exhales a whimpered breath, and I inhale it into my lungs. Like that first drag off a smoke, it calms that addictive itch and fuels my hunger.

  I can’t wait to get it back between those creamy thighs.

  Every neuron in my body smolders, crackling like the embers of a fire. My head starts to feel light and fuzzy and I wrap my arms about him, sinking into his touch. I kiss him back, matching his intensity. His mustache and beard tickle my lips and chin, causing me to smile against his mouth.

  “What?” he asks against my lips, not fully ending our kiss.

  “Your whiskers,” I comment with a giggle.

  He smiles, caressing his mouth against mine. He can be heartwarmingly tender at times, unlike his rough exterior.

  “You don’t like it?” he asks before giving my bottom lip a tiny nip.

  I pull away long enough to say, “It’s different than what I’m used to, but a good different.”

  He smirks and comes back at my mouth hard. I feel like I could melt right here, disappearing into the water around us. I love what he does to me. He makes me feel wanted, relished.

  He slides his hand down my back to my ass, gripping it tight and lifts me a little higher so my lips rip from his. My breasts hover in front of his face, a face so intoxicating it should be illegal. My nipples harden when his soft, hot breath brushes across them. Even though we’re surrounded by water, I feel my own wetness between my thighs. My clit throbs violently. I’ve never wanted a man inside me so desperately.

  He looks up at me, his eyes narrowing with apprehension. “Tell me you want this, Lace.”

  I hesitate, pursing my lips before answering, “Yes, Gunnar. I want this. I want you buried inside me.”

  He moans on an exhale and takes me into his mouth, his warm lips melding to my erect nipple. He gently sucks and pulls, elongating them further.

  I’m all wound up, ready for him.

  His brow crinkles and he pulls his lips away, a look of inner struggle wrenches his face.

  “I have to tell you something before we do anything.”

  He lowers me back into the water, taking a step back.

  “What is it?”

  “We can’t go anywhere serious. I can’t give you anything more than sex.”

  “Okay, I thought we established this.”

  “Yeah, but we have a deadline, Lace. I’m leaving to go to Europe in about a month. I won’t be back for a really long time, and I don’t do the long distance thing.”

  “Oh.” I mean, sure, I wasn’t expecting wedding bells or anything, but the thought of a deadline, especially one so close you could almost touch it, makes this seem pointless. I take a step back and look away, trying to hide the disappointment on my face. I’m just fooling myself to think I don’t at least want the possibility of more. I’m hurt.

  “Look, baby…”

  He moves toward me, and I say, “You don’t owe me an explanation. So if that’s what you’re about to do, you can just stop where you are.”

  “What do you want from me, Lace?”

  “Nothing,” I lower my head and shut my eyes. “I want nothing from you.”

  “Baby…”

  “I’m just glad I found out now so I can end it before I invested anymore time into you. All for the best. It’s just going to end in one big mess if we keep letting it go on. I don’t have the strength for it.”

  He gives me look as if what I just said stung him.

  “So, because we have a limited amount of time, you just want to cut it off completely.”

  “It’s like kicking a drug, Gunnar.” Except harder. “You don’t keep using when you’re trying to quit.”

  “I’m like a drug?”

  “T
he worst kind,” I mutter, almost too low for him to hear. “I gotta get out of here.”

  I start moving through the water, its density pushing back into me, but he grabs my hand as I’m about to hit the steps. I glare back at him.

  “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” His voice is gruff, deep.

  I shake my head and tug my hand out from his hold, moving toward a couple white fluffy robes on a lounge chair. I throw one on and wiggle my feet into my shoes.

  When I turn around, he’s standing at the edge of the pool, naked and sopping wet. Water streams down every hard muscle and exaggerated crease to his cock, trickling off the tip of the head.

  I can’t help myself. I scan his trim frame, a moving canvas of artistry, making note of the random artwork decorating a majority of his taut skin. My eyes move to his chest, focusing on the Anarchy tat in big western letters stretched over his pecs.

  It’s perfect. He is anarchy. He is chaos.

  “Don’t do this, Lace.” It sounds more like a warning than a plea. The expression on his face, as his penetrating eyes look up at me, appears almost animalistic. His chest is heaving, tatted fists clenched into tight balls at his sides. I’ve seen him pissed, but the look of desperation is something altogether different.

  “I didn’t. You did.” I brush past him, clutching my clothes to my chest, attempting to appear calm when I’m suddenly very uncomfortable. I don’t feel he’ll harm me, but I can feel the hurt radiating off him.

  “I knew you weren’t the type,” he hisses. It almost sounds like an insult. Even though I know it’s just a defensive maneuver, it still hurts.

  A wave of sadness floods me as I run back to my room, pouring out from my eyes. I shut and bolt my door then throw myself onto the bed, soothing myself until I fall asleep.

  I wake the next morning, and the ache in my heart is instant, not even those blissful few moments of hazy forgetfulness.

  There’s an abrupt knock on the door and I groan when I realize it’s probably him. I roll out of bed and shuffle over to the door, opening it with little enthusiasm. Instead of Gunn, Callie stands before me, dressed in a charcoal grey suit and turquoise blouse.

  “What’s up?”

  “Gunnar wanted me to tell you to start getting ready to leave. We’ll be departing in two hours. You need to be ready in one. Meet us down in the lobby.” She doesn’t say anymore, just turns and walks away. I shrug and shut the door, heading into the bathroom to clean myself up before packing.

  I’m ready in forty-five minutes and heading down to the lobby with my bags in hand. When I exit, I spot Callie standing by the door, fucking with her phone again. I wonder if it’s attached to her surgically.

  I head over to her and she spots me, motioning for the driver to take my bags to the limo. He stows them in the trunk and walks around to open the door for me. Callie walks me over and I slide in, realizing when I settle that I’m the only one inside.

  “Where’s Gunnar?” I ask her, still standing outside talking to the driver.

  “He isn’t coming with,” she says in a manner as if she didn’t just cause a searing pain in my chest. Panic.

  He doesn’t want to see me again and I have only myself to blame, but I know myself. I know that if I stayed, saying goodbye in a month would be impossible. I know I made the right choice, but it doesn’t make the sharp stabbing in my chest any less painful. He’s right. I am a good girl, a prude. I’m just not that type of girl.

  She shuts the door hard and off I go, whisked away to the airport, away from Gunnar.

  “Is she gone?” I ask, laying on the bed.

  “Yes, I just sent her off to the airport,” Callie answers, shifting her jacket off and letting it fall to the floor. “You know she wasn’t right for you.”

  “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

  She moves her fingers down her blouse, ripping the buttons open and tosses it aside.

  “She’s a fucking prude, Gunnar. You need a sinner, not a saint.” She slides her pants down to the floor. “You need a whore like me.”

  “I’ll give you that. You are a whore.”

  She walks to the end of the bed, running her fingers up and down her torso. “Damn right I am…your whore.”

  It has been four days since I got back from LA, and as expected, not a word from my almost lover. Time seemed to slow to an excruciating pace and it was only made worse by the article I was typing up for next month’s issue.

  When I wasn’t spending long hours at work, I was at home eating cheap Chinese and watching backed up episodes on our DVR.

  During a particular episode of Once Upon A Time, Gwen turns to me with a concerned look in her brown eyes, her mahogany hair looped on top of her head in a messy bun. She’s ridiculously gorgeous. I guess she’d have to be, being a model and all.

  “Something’s going on with you.”

  “Yeah, I just went through a major breakup,” I state, hoping to throw her off the scent. Truth was it hurts talking about Gunnar.

  “Alright, I can’t take this anymore,” she states, picking up the remote control and pausing the show. “We are getting our sorry asses up, dressing to the nines, and going out.”

  I groan. “I don’t feel like it.”

  “Nope. I don’t care what you feel like. You are going out with me! Now get your fanny up and get it into gear, missy.”

  I reluctantly stand and follow her into the bedroom.

  We head out, all dressed up, and hit the bars. We drink and dance and party it up. I haven’t been out like this in years. Holden was kinda controlling and didn’t like Gwen, which meant our girls night became few and far between.

  We dance until our feet are about to fall off and then head out for a late night carbo-load. Once we’re stuffed full of pancakes, sausage, and hash browns, we head back to our place ready to pass out drunk. Located in Greenwich on Perry Street, it’s a cute, three-story brownstone apartment building. And, besides being right around the corner from Magnolia Bakery, it’s within walking distance of some fabulous designer stores.

  We exit the cab, and I poke through my purse for the keys.

  “Whoa,” Gwen mumbles, clutching my arm and staggering a bit.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, looking up.

  Gunnar walks toward us wearing a hooded sweatshirt, shredded jeans, and worn out boots. He looks hot.

  “We need to talk,” he states, not giving Gwen the time of day.

  “I think I’m going to head up,” she says, letting go of my arm.

  “Are you okay to go up on your own, sweets?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. See you in a few?” I can see she’s eager to talk to me about it.

  “Sure, a few minutes.”

  She clumsily bolts up the stairs and into the building, leaving us alone on the tree-lined sidewalk at three in the morning.

  “Why are you here, Gunn?”

  He stares at me for a moment before speaking, “I wanted to see you, Lace.”

  “I thought we established I’m not the type of girl you go for. I’m the goody two shoes, remember? The good girl.”

  He grabs my arm, pulling me into the shadows and presses me against the wall of my building, just out of sight from others. He smashes his body into mine, pinning me with my hands above my head. His lips creep toward mine, stopping within half an inch, his hot breath caressing them.

  “Maybe I want a good girl.” He brushes his warm lips against mine. “Maybe I’m looking for something different.”

  Maybe we both were. I’ve done the ‘good’ boy. The man you’re supposed to marry, have kids with, build a life with, he broke me. Maybe different is exactly what I need.

  “But you’re leaving in a month.”

  “I don’t want to overthink things, Lace. I want you. I want to make you cum.” I feel everything tighten up at his raw words. “I need it, baby. I haven’t been able to think about anything but you these past few days.”

  “I’ve been thinking about you, too, Gunn,
” I confess.

  “I love hearing that, baby.” He places his forehead against mine, releasing a long breath. “I better go.”

  He lets go of me and takes a step back.

  “But aren’t you going to come upstairs?” That sounded just a little too desperate. Reel it in.

  “No, I’m not. You’re drunk. I won’t take advantage of that. When you fuck me, you’re going to be present. You’re going to feel everything. You’re going to remember I was there.”

  “Aren’t you the gentleman.”

  “Hardly. I’ve done the drunk thing, Lace. I told you, I want something different.”

  “Well, will you at least kiss me goodnight?”

  He moves back in, smiling wickedly, and presses his mouth into mine. His tongue coerces my lips apart, thrusting inside, playing with mine. It flicks and twirls, enticing me to do the same. He breaks away, breathless, eyes shut tight. He looks as if he were fighting himself.

  He opens his eyes, boring them into mine. Even in the shadows, their clear brilliance can’t be contained. “I want you, baby doll. Let me have you.”

  I don’t want to give all of myself away tonight, show him all my cards, so I come up with an answer I feel comfortable giving him.

  “Maybe.”

  I smile at him and he smirks back, tilting his head to the side.

  “No worries…I will get what I want. And I want you, Lace.”

  With one last nip at my bottom lip, he’s gone, leaving me plastered against the wall with my heart thumping in my chest.

  “You filthy whore!” Gwen yells at me as I walk through the door, a huge grin spreading her cheeks from ear to ear. “You better tell me every filthy detail. Like yesterday.”

  I plop my purse on the table near the front door. “There’s not much to tell.”

  “You’re not just a filthy whore. You’re a filthy, lying whore,” she giggles out. “You’re telling me you didn’t let him pet your kitty?”

  “My kitty? Really?”

  She waves me off. “How did you meet Gunnar Haze?”