by Mia Scott
Big ripped off his shirt and set his fingers to undoing the buttons on her vest, letting it hang open. He watched her hands unbutton his jeans and ease the zipper down, lifting his eyes to her face and grinning wickedly at the look of surprise and aroused gasp when she discovered that he'd gone commando and his cock sprang free. She recovered quickly enough and began gliding silky fingers up and down his shaft. "Damn, Alisha," he bit out hoarsely, her fingers driving him crazy. Unfastening her jeans and yanking them down over her hips, he groaned when his eyes lit on the tiny postage stamp of red lace that served as gatekeeper to the Promised Land. "You're so fucking sexy," he said gruffly, cupping his hand over her mound, finding her completely soaked. "And wet—Jesus Christ." He captured her lips again, kissing her hard and swallowing her moan when he shoved two fingers deep inside her pussy.
Her knees buckled, and her eyes rolled back when he scissored his fingers in her core. "Oh, God," she cried, tearing her lips away from his, gasping as the ball of heat began to tighten and coil low in her belly. She whimpered when he removed his fingers and opened her eyes to look hazily at him. He ran wet fingers over her mouth before bringing them to his lips and licking her arousal off.
Big groaned when the heady taste hit his tongue and he nearly came unglued when she slowly licked her lips. In her. Now. He cupped the back of her head and crushed his mouth to hers once more while he reached blindly for a condom in his wallet. He broke the kiss and tore open the foil packet. "Hurry," she said breathlessly, running her hands across his abdomen. Rolling it into place, he grasped the backs of her thighs and hitched her up against the door, spreading her legs as wide as he could, seeing as her jeans were trapped at the knees because of her stupid boots. Reaching between their bodies, he shoved her thong out of the way and grabbed his cock, stroking the head of it at her entrance, making her suck in a breath in anticipation as he split her folds apart. His eyes lifted to hers, and he plunged inside, grunting at how fucking hot and tight she felt around him.
His hips snapped hard against hers, and she rolled to meet him thrust for thrust, creating a delicious friction between them. "So good," she panted, trying to take him deeper, "you feel so fucking good." She dropped open-mouthed kisses along his neck, her fingers grasping his shoulders tightly. "Big—deeper, please," she begged.
He slid nearly all the way out before slamming back in again, growling when he couldn't get as deep as he wanted because of her fucking jeans being in the fucking way. "Goddammit," he bit out, gripping her hips and thrusting as hard as he could. He pulled out and dropped her down to her feet, ignoring her whine of protest. Hooking his hands under her armpits, he hauled her up and carried her across the apartment, depositing her unceremoniously on the kitchen table.
Alisha shimmied her panties down over her hips and lay back, moaning when he dragged her to the edge of the table and threw both legs over one of his shoulders. He plowed himself fully back into her heat, snapping his hips frantically as his name tore from her lips. "Yes," she hissed, her hands groping for purchase on the table. "Harder!"
Blood thundered in his ears and he pushed her legs forward, driving himself higher and deeper within her walls. Her sounds were driving him wild and his release was dangerously close. He slipped his fingers over her clit and rubbed it hard as he continued railing her on the table. Her walls started to clench tightly around him, and his thrusts grew more powerful and frantic.
A stream of yeses and oh Gods poured from her mouth as the pressure inside her spiked and exploded, heat spreading throughout her entire body. "Big," she cried.
Two more thrusts were all it took before his own release took hold and his vision blurred as he came hard, shuddering as his orgasm wracked through his entire body. "Fuck! Alisha." He rested his head against her thigh as he caught his breath. Pressing a kiss there, he lowered her legs and went and disposed of the used condom. He walked back over and pulled her up, so they were face to face. She looked up at him under heavy eyes as a slow, satisfied grin spread over her face, making his lips twitch into a smirk.
"Well, then…that was…yeah," she managed inarticulately, smiling at the amused look on his face.
"Fucking hot, is what it was, Larrington," he supplied.
Alisha chuckled softly and nodded her head. "It was," she said, smoothing her hair back out of her eyes. He placed his hands on the table and leaned in, catching her lips in a slow, teasing kiss.
Resisting the urge to sigh, she glanced down at her disheveled appearance and his instead, and laughed. They'd been so desperate to just get to it that only the essentials had been moved out of the way. (So hot. Seriously! Oh my God!) Sliding off the table, she moved to pull up her pants when he stopped her.
"You're not going anywhere yet, Alisha," he told her, his voice deep and gruff.
"I know that," she replied coyly, tugging her jeans up over her boots. She leaned back onto the table. "I was going to take these off," she said, lifting her leg and pressing the toe of her boot into his chest, smiling wickedly.
Big smirked again, turned on by this kittenish side to her. He unzipped her boots and pulled them off, and pushed her jeans and panties down and off her legs. "Good," he began, running his hands slowly up those long, toned legs and settling them on her firm ass. He lifted her up and set her down on the table again. Smoothing the vest off her body, he smirked, "because I'm nowhere near done with you yet."
"I know that, too," she grinned, reaching her hands around to unclasp her bra, slowly pulling it off to bare her breasts to him. "I'm still moving—and as I recall that wasn't part of the deal. I'd say you've got your work cut out for you," she challenged in a teasing tone. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and smiled.
His eyebrows shot up, then he grinned, slow and devious. Alisha Larrington was fucking awesome. "You might be sorry you said that," Big warned, his eyes poring over her now naked body. (So much better than he remembered…especially now that he got to do dirty things to her.)
Her blood began to beat again, the throbbing need between her thighs back in full force. She ran her hands and eyes over his chest and down his arms. (His body was insane.) "I doubt it," she said, her lips curving, making him laugh dryly.
"You know, Larrington," he began slowly, brushing his fingers over her thighs, pleased when she quivered and leaned into his touch, "I seem to recall you complaining about some past encounters…so I think it's time for me to show you how a real man eats pussy," he finished, grinning crookedly at the surprised look in her big doe eyes. He lowered her back on the table and spread her thighs wide, bowing his head to her sex. The first long, slow lick against her heat had her arching off the table and him smirking wickedly.
"Not sorry at all," she promised breathlessly.
The next morning, as she tiptoed quietly through his apartment looking for her clothes, she was kind of sorry. She was kind of sorry for challenging him, because he'd made good on his promise and now every damn muscle in her body ached. She hadn't checked, but she wouldn't be surprised if she was black and blue between her thighs. It wasn't that she hadn't enjoyed it, because, hello, who wouldn't want to be fucked into unconsciousness by a man who looked like Big? She'd actually lost count of the number of orgasms he'd brought her to, but she knew that the number was more than she'd ever had in one night before…by a long shot. Turns out? Jake Biggerman wasn't just posturing about his sexual prowess. In fact, he may have been being modest. (Un-freaking-real!) But, back to the point she was trying to make before she got so sidetracked…she had two shows to do today and the mere thought of her dance moves made her want to weep and curl up into a ball. However, she was a professional, and she'd down a handful of ibuprofen and some water and suck it up like professionals did when the need arose. The show must go on.
As she quickly fastened her bra and tugged on her jeans, she was kind of sorry to be sneaking out while he slept. But as great as last night was (and it really, really was), she wasn't stupid. Big was…well…Big. And she knew now that she'd b
ecome a notch on his weathered belt, he would move on to someone else. It didn't bother her (not really) because she knew going in to this what his reputation was like and that he didn't tend to do repeats with his conquests. They were adults, they'd had a great time, and now they could go on with their lives and maybe still be friends or whatever. (Too much sex addled her brain and hindered her vocabulary.) Just because they'd spent the entire night having mind-blowing sex, she wasn't operating under any delusions that they were meant to be together, or anything ridiculous like that. (And just in case you weren't clear by now, he'd easily taken the crown away from Joe Fletcher—and made her admit it. Out loud. More than once. Mildly embarrassing for her, but whatever. The wickedly victorious smile on his face at the time was sexy and he proved to her, again (twice!), why he was number one with a bullet.)
Grabbing her vest off the table, her cheeks flushed and something warm stirred in her belly as she remembered everything that went down there (pun not intended…much). God! She definitely wouldn't say no to another night like that, but she sure as hell wasn't going to take the chance of getting the Biggerone brush-off by asking for it. She'd initiated things to begin with and that would not be happening a second time. No, the ball was no longer in her court, so on the slim chance that he wanted a repeat of last night, he'd have to seek her out. Closing the door quietly behind her, she decided she wouldn't hold her breath.
His cell phone rang and jerked him from his slumber. He grumbled and blindly reached for the offending object on the nightstand. Seeing James's name on the ID, he debated whether or not to ignore it. Turning, he saw that the other side of the bed was empty, and he frowned. Damn. He'd had every intention of rolling over and having another piece of Larrington pie for breakfast. He pressed talk and managed a gruff, "What?"
"Hey, dude. We still on for wings and the game today?"
Big yawned hugely and rubbed his eyes, focusing at the red numbers on the alarm clock. It was already after one. "Yeah, I'll meet you at the bar."
"You cool if Maggie comes?"
He thought for a second that maybe Alisha would tag along, too, but then remembered she had two shows today. "Sure, man, whatever. I like Blondie even if she hates me."
"She doesn't hate you—she just doesn't want you messing with Alisha."
Way too late for that, he thought with an evil grin. "Tell your girlfriend to rest easy. Nothing's going on with me and Larrington. Look, man, I'll just see you later." He clicked off and tossed his phone back on the nightstand.
Rolling over and shifting the pillow under his head, he got a whiff of her perfume, turning all thought to the events of the night before. Alisha Larrington. Tons of hot and dirty sex. There wasn't much more to say except final-fucking-ly! He knew they would be hot together, but that exceeded every one of his (very high) expectations. She was sexy and feisty and vocal. Also f-l-e-x-i-b-l-e. Holy God. That really was the most fun he'd had in a long damn time. And then there was that little matter of her admitting, repeatedly, (okay, so maybe he'd prodded once or twice) that he was the best fuck she'd ever had. Take that Joe Fletcher. Douche nozzle. That was a big stroke for the ol' Biggerone ego.
He was a little surprised that she hadn't stuck around or even said bye before she left. Yeah, yeah, she had to work and—God—he was turning into a pussy. He and Alisha had both had an insane itch and they'd sufficiently scratched it. (read: fucked each other half to death) There was no need to turn it into something it wasn't. Still, hot sex was hot sex. And he and Alisha? A goddamned inferno! He'd like to have more of that and soon, please.
He closed his eyes and went back to sleep, as visions of naked Alisha riding him danced in his head.
Maggie picked at the bowl of peanuts in front of her, shooting James a worried look. "Are you sure I'm not intruding on your male bonding time?" she asked. The sweet smile he gave her in return calmed her nerves a little.
"Baby, I told you—you're not intruding. I think this will be a good chance for you and Big to get to know each other a little better. Are you really that bothered by what happened at your birthday?" He ran his hand over her knee and inched higher, resting it there. "Because even though he's my best friend and has been for years—that's just who Big is. Just accept him for that and you should be good."
She placed her hand on top of his and laced their fingers together. "While that was completely disgusting, that's not it really," she shook her head. "I just can't believe I was so off the mark with him. I wanted to push him and Alisha together so badly. Something really made me think they'd be great together and I thought he'd be the one for her. But Alisha's already had her heart broken and I think that Big would only destroy her in the long run. It's annoying because normally I'm super accurate with my matchmaking skills." She started ticking off her list of successes on her fingers. "First, there was my sister and her husband. They've been married for six years and have two kids with another on the way. Then, there's Cristina and Beau—married for a year. Russell and Adam, they've been together for over two years now and I while I'm not positive, I wouldn't be surprised if we were attending a commitment ceremony for them within the next year."
"You forgot one," he told her.
Maggie arched a brow. "Who?"
"Me and you."
Her face lit up with a bright, happy smile. "My gift started at an early age. I picked you out for myself a decade ago," she laughed softly, nudging his shoulder. "We just took a very long detour." She tilted her face up for a kiss and he dropped his lips to hers. Her head swam like bubbles in a glass of champagne, the way it always did when he kissed her. If she wasn't there already, she was definitely close to being completely and totally in love with James Keller.
"Go Keller," Big said proudly, sliding into the booth across from the lovebirds.
James and Maggie broke apart and cast their eyes at him. James's eyes smiled, and Maggie's rolled in annoyance. "Hi, Big," Maggie said coolly, feeling the warning squeeze of James's hand on her leg. She decided to try being a little nicer.
"Maggie," he nodded curtly, grabbing a handful of peanuts from the bowl.
She exchanged a quick look with James, who smiled encouragingly. "I hear the show went well last night. James said you guys had a lot of fun with Alisha."
Big grinned slowly. If Maggie only knew just how much fun he'd had with her best friend. "Yeah, it was a great show. Alisha killed it."
"What'd you do after the show, dude?" James asked.
Pouring himself a glass from the pitcher of beer in the middle of the table, he shrugged carelessly. "Went home, had something to eat and got in bed." All true, he thought with an imperceptible twitch of his lips.
The couple once again exchanged glances, this time with matching expressions of surprise.
"What?" Big asked lazily, looking at his best friend.
"Nothing, really," James said, running a hand over his hair. "Just kinda surprised you didn't pick up one of those skanks at the reunion. No offense," he added as an afterthought.
"Sorry to disappoint, buddy." He did not in fact go home with a skank last night. "So, Blondie—who's your horse in this race today?"
"I don't really care," she said. "I'm more of a Browns fan. Though I see from your shirt and James's that you've converted to Giants fans. Turning your backs on the New York teams?" Maggie clucked her tongue.
"The Browns? Aw, that's cute," Big sneered, making James laugh.
"They do suck, babe," James agreed.
"Humph," Maggie sniffed. "I'm putting my money on the Eagles today."
"Shh!" Both James and Big said. "Ah, Maggie, cool it with the Eagles talk—Giants fans get pretty mean," James warned looking around sheepishly.
"Not saying I wouldn't do it, Maggie, but I'd prefer to not get into a fight today," Big added, taking a big gulp from his glass.
"Well, if Alisha was here, she'd wear her Colts jersey, get the bartender to switch one of the TVs and tell anyone who gave her crap about it to fuck off."
Big grin
ned into his glass. He'd pay money to see that. "I bet she would."
"Just stay away from Alisha," Maggie snapped.
His jaw twitched in annoyance. "You know what, Maggie? Lay off the mama bear act, alright. Alisha's an adult who seems like she could handle herself just fine in any situation. So why don't you stop jumping up my ass at every goddamn turn? It's getting really old."
"Dude!" James admonished.
"Fuck this. You guys have fun. I'll just go watch the game at home." He slid out of the booth and headed for the exit.
"Big!" Maggie called, making him pause. He turned and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"What?"
"I'm sorry, okay," Maggie said sincerely. "I know I'm super protective of Alisha, but that's just how we are with one another...how we've always been. You were right though. She can handle herself just fine and I should remember that more often. And as for you, you're an adult and what you choose to do with your time is your business and I shouldn't judge you for it. For James's sake, I'd really like it if we could just start over and try to get along. Do you think we could do that?"
Big considered her for a moment before finally shrugging. "Buy me a beer and we'll call it even," he said with a smirk.
Maggie smiled. "Okay then." Turning, she walked back into the bar and Big followed.
After a really long day and managing to survive both of her performances (barely), Alisha had just slipped her robe off and pulled back the covers, intending to sleep until noon, when she heard a knock on her door. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was just after midnight. Sighing, she put her robe back on and padded towards the door. Another relaxed knock sounded, and she switched on the light in her living room and Rosemary on her tiptoes to look through the peephole. Her breath hitched when she saw Big standing on the other side.
She swallowed thickly and pressed a hand to calm the butterflies in her tummy. Quickly, she checked out her appearance in the mirror in the tiny entryway and undid the locks on the door. She slowly exhaled a breath to calm her nerves and pulled the door open. When she did, she found him leaned casually against the frame with her red thong dangling from the crook of his finger. Her eyes shifted to his and when he grinned that sexy, crooked grin, she felt the exhaustion evaporate. "What are you doing here?" she greeted, a slow smile stretching across her lips.