Metal & Lace (An Opposites Attract Novel Book 1)

by Black, Lena

  “Ass up,” I command. “Head against the mattress.”

  Her butt flies into the air, presenting me with her soaked, puffy-lipped pussy. She looks back at me longingly, her face pressed against the bed, panting and heavy-eyed. My cock swells.

  I crawl onto the bed behind her, and without warning, I dig in, flicking my tongue on her clitoris. She snakes her body, rotating her hips, smashing her pussy into my mouth. Burying her face into the sheets, her moans become muffled.

  “Ride my face, baby,” I command, eating her ripe pussy like a convict on death row devouring my last meal. “Grind that clit.”

  Her hand reaches back and fists in my hair, deepening my demolishing possession on her clit. It pulses against my tongue, letting me know she’s getting close to coming.

  I rise up on my knees and pull a condom out of my pocket, ripping it open and sliding it on without taking my focus off Lace bent in front of me. I palm my shaft and set the head at her tight hole, clamping my other hand to her hip.

  “You might think you’re a good girl, Lace,” I comment and thrust into her to the base without warning, forcing her to scream out, “but you are my slutty little fuckdoll.”

  She whimpers and moans, fighting the affect my words have on her body. Holding back from letting go completely.

  I keep myself inside her, feeling her softness engulfing my cock, tensing and retracting with every muscle spasm. I pull back and pause for an instant before slamming back into her, shoving her up the mattress. I repeat the motion again, starting slow but picking up speed with each pump. Over and over, in a relentless, consistent rhythm, I plunge in and out of her, my hands squeezing to the flesh of her surging hips. With every drive, I become increasingly more unstitched until I’m wildly fucking her into the bed, sweat dripping, loud grunting fucking.

  Ass lifted high in the air, her sweet little asshole is just begging to be filled. I release a hand from her hip and press my thumb against the taut pucker. When she pushes back into it, I know she’s good to go and I shove it inside. She tenses around me, winding up for the release. I shove my other hand between her thighs, attacking her slick clit with my fingers, plowing into her harder, faster, deeper.

  “I’m…gonna…come!” she cries out between each thump of my cock, clawing at the sheets.

  “Do it, baby. Come all over my cock.”

  She erupts around me, riding out her orgasm. And I follow, flooding the condom with thick gushes of hot come. Her body goes limp, twitching and jerking until it gradually eases, sinking into the mattress.

  I climb out from behind her and yank off the condom, tossing it in the trashcan. I start to walk toward the bathroom, but her hand catches mine, stopping me.

  “Where are you going?” she asks with cock-hardening after-fuck glow, her damp hair tangled.

  “To shower?”

  Pulling me back down next to her, she smiles at me. “Or, you can stay in bed with me.”

  “And, like, cuddle and shit?” I feel my face twist at the foreign notion.

  “Yeah, like, cuddle and shit.”

  With a sigh, she crawls on top of me and rests her cheek on my shoulder. I bend one arm behind my head, propping it up, and wrap the other around her bare back.

  I could get used to this.

  After showering, we crawl back into bed, and he passes out as soon as his head hits the pillow. I stay up, oddly energized after our intense fuck, and watch him, lying on his stomach with his arms at his sides. I take a closer look at the artwork covering a majority of his skin. An old school microphone on his inner forearm, spider webs on his elbows, and two antique revolvers pointing outward along his shoulder blades like metal wings. My fingers discover his body, gently moving between each marking, memorizing them by heart. That’s when I feel something that doesn’t belong amongst the clutter of ink on his upper back. About the size of a quarter, it’s raised above the rest of his skin. It’s rounded, purple, and shiny. A scar. And from what I can tell, a pretty gnarly one.

  I look up at his face, finding his eyes open and pinned on mine.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, his voice sleepy.

  “Nothing,” I lie. “Just looking at your ink.”

  He turns over, a horny grin broadening his cheeks, and his erection pokes up from the sheets. “Ready for another go?”

  “Already?” I ask, rubbing my thighs together.

  “You’re on top this time.” He groans and adjusts my leg over his hips, already naked and ready for me. Reaching over to his nightstand, he opens the drawer, dips his hand inside, and retrieves a condom, sliding the wrapper between his teeth. With a smooth shift of his head, he rips it open and removes the rubber.

  “Will you do the honor?” he asks, handing me the contraceptive.

  I take it and lift my hips, leaving a space between us. I shove my hands down and grasp his very erect cock. Pinching the reservoir of the condom, I situate it against the thick head and roll it down with a delicate touch, feeling it stretch over his smooth shaft. When I hit the root, his pubic hair tickles my knuckles. His eyes have shut, taking in the caress of my hands on his manhood.

  “Now, guide it in, baby. Shove my cock deep inside you; gobble it up with your wet pussy.”

  I take hold of it with both my hands, tweaking my hips so they’re angled toward his, and aim the head with my entrance. Sinking down, I immerse him inside myself until our pelvises press together, forcing out a unison moan.

  The next morning, we sit at the round dining table eating cereal from mismatched bowls. I’m flipping through a music magazine, sipping on my coffee when I get this feeling I’m being watched and glimpse up. Hairy chin resting in the palm of his hand, Gunnar stares almost absent-mindedly at me, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

  “What?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about last night,” he comments then slowly licks his lips like he can still taste me on them.

  Fighting back a smirk, I shake my head at him and take another sip of my coffee.

  “Eat your cereal, asshole.”

  He laughs. “Whatever you say, brat.”

  In the following week, we spend every day together, mostly between the sheets. He even came to my office to pick me up for lunch a few times. My coworkers would watch him whenever he arrived, eyeing him suspiciously. The first day he showed up, the look of sheer panic on their faces was almost comical. And then a whole floor of people with wide eyes and even wider mouths, gaping at us as he walked me out of the office.

  “I think you have some fans,” I whispered with a chuckle.

  “Ha! Yeah, they really love me,” he commented, rolling his eyes, and laughed.

  Friday night, I wait for him at my apartment, wearing sweats and an old, holey shirt. It’s so comfortable I can’t bring myself to throw it away. Holden used to tell me I looked like a bag lady in it, so I never wore it around him. But, with Gunnar, I feel like I can be myself, and he’ll still think I’m pretty.

  There’s a knock at the door, three slow knocks to be exact. It’s Gunnar.

  I jump off the couch and skip over to the front door, opening it up for him. He’s dressed in a black and white striped shirt and his normal shredded jeans, leather boots unlaced.

  “Hey, good-lookin’,” he mutters, his come-hither eyes looking up into mine.

  “Hey yourself.”

  He steps inside, wrapping his arms about my waist, and presses his forehead against mine with a sigh.

  “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he confesses then kisses my lips softly.

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

  He releases me and walks over to a counter in the kitchen, leaning into it. “You feel like going out?”

  “I’m not really dressed for a night out.” I nod down at my shabby, bag lady attire. “Where did you have in mind?”

  “Vegas.”

  “Vegas?” I’m definitely not dressed to go out.

  “Yeah, I’ve got an engagement the
re, a hotel’s grand opening or some shit. They want famous faces seen there, photographed about the resort, give it a little exposure. In return, they’ll comp our stay. So, I was wondering if you wanted to join me.”

  “I’d love it!” I exclaim, an enormous grin splitting my face. “When do we leave?”

  “Now,” he says, drawing out the word a little.

  “Now, now?”

  “Is there any other?” He laughs. “Yes, Lace.”

  Suddenly, the front door opens and Gwen comes storming through, ranting and raving like a maniac.

  “I will never work with that asshole again!” She throws her purse on floor with a growl “I don’t care how much they pay me! He’s a fucking perverted…” She looks up, spotting us, and smiles. “Hey, guys.”

  “Hey,” I greet with a smirk. “Are you all right?”

  “Ugh, no. I just had the worst goddamn shoot of my career. The old fuck photographer thought since I was half naked, he could get grabby with me. Then, he had the balls to offer me coke and some cash to go back to his place with him.”

  “Jesus,” I breathe. “What a fucking creep.”

  “I just want to forget about it.” She walks over to the fridge and opens the freezer, pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels and an icy whiskey glass. “What are you two up to?”

  “I just asked Lace to come with me to Vegas.”

  “Oh, my God! I’m totes jealy.”

  “You wouldn’t wanna go, would you?” Gunnar inquires nonchalantly, pushing out his bottom lip for an exaggerated pucker.

  “Are you frickin’ kidding me?!” She jumps up and down. “Yes!”

  “Alright, we leave in twenty. You both need to get packed and ready now.”

  Gwen doesn’t hesitate, bolting to her room down the hall. As I turn to do the same, he takes my hand and stops me. I glimpse back at him over my shoulder, noticing the roguish glint in his come-hither eyes.

  “What’s your rush?” he asks. A smile matching the look in his eyes crawls across his face. He brings me into him, slapping both hands on my rear, and melds his mouth with mine. He kisses me slow and deep until all there is are his lips, his sweet, mind-warping lips.

  “Have you ever been to Vegas?” I ask Lace. She’s sitting next to me on the band’s plane, her face buried in a book.

  “No, I haven’t,” she answers, looking over at me. “Do you ever stay put for longer than a week?”

  “Yes, but traveling is a part of the gig. And honestly, I’ve seen a lot of places I wouldn’t have if I wasn’t in Anarchy. It can be trying at times.”

  “It sounds fantastic and depressing all at once.”

  I smile weakly and change the subject. “Wanna see Vegas from above?”

  “Yes, please.” She leans across my lap to look out the window. I take in her scent, a unique blend of Lace and jasmine. Watching her admire the sparkling city below, I feel something stir in me, a sensation I’ve never experienced before. Suddenly, the thought of leaving her in a few weeks makes me physically ill.

  What the fuck is she doing to me?

  We arrive at the brand new hotel and head straight up to our rooms, a multi-room penthouse suite. It’s contemporary with a black, white, and red palette and a perfect view of The Strip. When we step inside, the girls’ jaws nearly hit the floor, looking around at the massive main room.

  I watch them as they move further into the space, pleased by their reaction. Though, Lace’s response is what really gets me off. She glimpses back at me over her shoulder, her eyes like two huge saucers.

  “We’re staying here?”

  “Yup,” I answer with a quick bob of my head.

  A bright smile sweeps across her lips, pulling her cheeks up until it reaches her eyes. I walk up to them and stand behind Lace, encasing her waist with my arms.

  “Your room is on the first floor over to the left,” I comment. Gwen starts to move toward the open door, and Lace attempts to follow. But I tighten my grip on her, keeping her from walking away. “Where are you going?”

  “To our room,” she says, pointing towards her friend.

  “Our room is upstairs.” I spin her around and hold her to me. “You didn’t think we’d be sleeping in separate rooms, did you?”

  I lean in and nip at her bottom lip. She moans in response.

  Baby likes it rough.

  “I don’t know what to think when it comes to you, Gunn.”

  “I kinda like it that way.” I smirk at her. “Keeps you on your toes.”

  She shakes her head and tugs my beard. I don’t like when people do it. But it’s sorta cute as shit when she does it.

  I release her and step back, grabbing her hand. “Come on, baby doll.” I pull her towards the winding staircase to our right. “I need to get you good and fucked immediately.”

  I sneak a look back at her, noticing the rosy hue of her cheeks.

  “Lead the way, rock star.”

  The next morning, Gunnar leaves early to do an appearance with the rest of the band. He woke me with oral before heading out, leaving Gwen and I to explore the resort until this afternoon when we meet the boys for a late lunch.

  We order room service, pancakes and bacon, before heading down to the spa to, as Gwen put it, get ‘Vegas ready’. Whatever the fuck that means. We’re given the celebrity treatment, pampered, buffed, and plucked until we shine. After, we throw on our swimsuits and head down to the pools. Two are reserved for teens and families, but the third, hidden behind an assortment of tropical plants and trees, is the adult pool, nudity optional.

  There are two bars, one right in the middle of the pool. A DJ spins some beats while topless girls dance on platforms, entertaining the horny male masses, hooting at the sight of jiggling breasts.

  “When in Rome,” Gwen says.

  When I look over at her, she rips her top off, attracting the attention of a nearby group of, what I can only assume are, frat boys, with their puka shell necklaces and brightly colored glasses. She also catches the envious focus of a few of their not-so-happy girlfriends. I really can’t blame them. Gwen is ridiculously gorgeous, tall, with a body any girl would murder for, and confidence coming out the ass. A very perky ass I might add.

  “Where should we set up base?” she asks, completely ignoring her audience.

  I point out a couple of vacant lounge chairs, and we weave through the rowdy crowd. As we make it over to the empty spot, a young man in a white polo and khaki shorts approaches us, smiling a dazzling plastic smile.

  “Mrs. Haze?” he asks, looking at me.

  “No, I…” I’m about to correct him when Gwen jumps in. “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “We have a cabana reserved for you if you’ll follow me.” He turns around and we follow behind. I shoot my ballsy friend a narrowed-eyed glare and she shrugs her shoulders, a look of indifference on her face.

  He stops in front of a private seating area back from the noise of the guests. “My name is Brad. If you ladies need anything, I’ll be here to serve.”

  He flashes his pearly whites at Gwen before taking his leave.

  “I don’t know how you deal with guys constantly ogling you,” I state, sitting back on a lounge chair.

  “What are you talking about?” she inquires, laying her towel over her chair. “Guys are always watching you, Lacey. You just never notice.”

  “I think it’s just backsplash from the wave of men trying to get to you.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Pfft. Yeah, okay.”

  Our overly charming concierge walks up to us holding a silver bucket and a tray of oysters. “Ladies, compliments of Venus Resort and Casino.”

  He sets the goodies down on the table along with two flutes and fills them with champagne from the bucket of ice. “Is there anything else I can get for you, Mrs. Haze?”

  “No, thank you. This is perfect.”

  “Excellent. Just call me if you need me.”

  “Thank you, Brad,” Gwen says flirtatiously, emphasizing his name.


  She can make a simple greeting sound like promises of sex.

  He smirks at her before walking away.

  “Cheers,” she toasts, holding her glass out to me, “Mrs. Haze.”

  I glower at her and clink mine against it.

  “It was probably a mistake on the hotels part,” I comment, lying back on my lounger, then take a sip.

  She shakes her head and picks up an oyster shell, slurping down its contents.

  “Or, it’s not. Maybe Gunnar told them you were.”

  “Are you fucking mad?” I cock a freshly manicured brow at her. “Gunnar is not the type.”

  She shrugs. “People have a way of surprising you.”

  Before I can disagree, she stands up and sets her glass on the table, adjusting the bunched material of her bikini bottom about her perfect ass.

  “I’m going for a dip. It’s a scorcher today.”

  She strides away, leaving me to bathe in the sun’s warm rays. I apply sunscreen all over and then pull my earbuds out of my bag, shoving one in my ear so I can still hear if anyone calls for me. I shut my eyes, listening to the chill melody of ‘Look’ by Sébastien Tellier, and take a long, slow breath. I start thinking about Gunnar, the article, all the surreal events of the past few weeks. A feeling of dread creeps up on me. As the days count down, minutes blurring into hours, melting away in the blink of an eye, his departure becomes more and more real. I have to live every minute to the fullest, take in as much of him as possible for those cold, lonely nights I’ll lie in bed without him. I can’t spend the little time we have worrying about the inevitable end.

  A familiar voice slices through my focus. “Lacey?”

  I crack open an eye, spotting the last person I would expect standing over me.

  When I’m finished with my required meet and greet, I separate from Jay and Dylan and head toward the elevators. I want to go back to the room and take a shower to wash the bullshit off me. If Lace is up there, have a quickie.