by N. A. Alcorn
She feigns annoyance, rolling her eyes skyward and then bringing her gaze back to mine. “God, you really know how to ruin a moment.”
My smirk turns into a full-blown smile, and then she does it—Amy smiles. Not just any smile. The most beautiful fucking smile I’ve ever seen. Her face is illuminated with affection, with pure love.
“I love you. I. LOVE. YOU!” She chuckles and smacks my chest. “Was that loud enough for you?” She raises an eyebrow at me, proving that she’s still full of piss and vinegar, ready to bust my balls any day of the week.
I wrap her up in my arms, lifting her feet off the ground, and excitedly spin her around in the gravel walkway.
“Oorah!” I hoarsely yell out from the overwhelming relief, the undeniable love that has just consumed my heart and filled it beyond bursting.
She laughs against my neck.
Oorah… Only for the woman of my dreams.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Stroke him to satisfaction,
and then reap the motherfucking benefits.” - Amy
I’m overwhelmed with relief. I’m relieved that I was able to open up to James about Benny. Just by telling him the story and reliving that day, I feel like I gained a small piece of myself back, like I gained a small piece of closure. I’m relieved that for once in my life I’ve stopped being an avoiding asshole and given in to what I really want. I want James. I want him all day, every day, on constant repeat, and I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of him.
I love James.
Yeah, it’s about fucking time I admitted my true feelings for him. I’m head over heels in love with this man and now…he’s all mine. This smug, cocky, egotistical, adorable idiot is all mine and I’m the happiest girl in the world.
“Get your ass on the bike, Amy,” his husky voice demands. I take in the sight of him straddling his Harley. His jean-clad, muscular legs stretch out towards the ground. His ornery grin with that one perfect dimple flashes in my direction. Those intense jade eyes watch me with a palpable intensity. He looks determined, almost predatory. I’m his prey and I’m ready for him to screw me into next week.
“Stop eye-fucking me, creeper,” I say as I take his hand and throw my leg over the seat. He hands me a helmet and I slide it over my head. I press myself against his back and wrap my arms around his waist. My fingers creep underneath his shirt, taking in every perfect chiseled feature of his abdomen.
“I’m taking you to my hotel, doll. And I can promise that I’ll be doing more than just eye-fucking you,” he announces behind his shoulder as he turns the throttle, the engine purring deliciously.
I lift my helmet enough so I can bite his earlobe in response.
James’s eyes peer over his shoulder, and I can see the hint of a grin cresting the corner of his mouth. He chuckles huskily and his hand reaches back around my waist, pinching my ass…hard. “And I can promise that we’ll be doing more than just playing a friendly game of grab-ass, too.”
I pinch his firm ass right back.
He palms my ass before sliding his helmet over his head. The sounds of my giggles ricochet inside the confines of my helmet. I swear he is the only man who can get me to relinquish girlish giggles, and for that, I’m thankful. I’ll save all of my giggles for him for the rest of my life.
Did I just manage to think ‘the rest of my life’ and not suffer from a panic attack?
Yeah, I think I did. I guess this ‘whole being in love with someone’ thing isn’t so bad. I mean, this is probably the craziest thing I’ve ever done. Because it is—falling in love is crazy. It’s the only form of insanity that society deems acceptable, but I wouldn’t give this up for anything. Falling in love with James is the best irrational thing I’ve ever done.
And I plan to love this man for an infinite amount of time.
We make our way towards his hotel and I relish in the feel of his strong, masculine body underneath my fingertips. I can’t deny that my panties are nearly drenched from anticipation of what is about to go down in his hotel room. His ass better pound me senseless, and after he does that…he better stick it to me some more. James and I have a lot of lost time to make up for and I have a lot of ‘I owe yous’ to cash in.
He owes me.
And I’m talking from a hard dicking, fast thrusting, and furious pounding perspective.
He parks his bike in a parking spot located across from the lobby doors of his hotel. This isn’t a fancy hotel by any means. The Galt House in downtown Louisville would have been a better alternative to the Holiday Inn Express we’re currently walking towards, but I’m not picky. That point was made obvious when I managed to have a threesome in a dirty bar bathroom. Where sex is concerned, I can get it, give it, and ride it…anytime, anyplace, and anywhere.
James hops off of his bike and removes his helmet. He proceeds to do the same for me. Then, next thing I know, he’s got me thrown over his shoulder as he strides towards the lobby doors of the hotel. I squeal in delight and he lands a vagina-clenching smack to my ass in response. I knew he was a spanker!
Boy oh boy, do I love this man.
We receive several curious looks from hotel guests roaming about the lobby. This does not deter my man. He proceeds to stalk towards the elevator while continuing to keep my dress-clad body over his shoulder. Hopefully I’m not flashing my ass to everyone we walk past, but honestly, my mind isn’t focused on my modesty.
We’re now on the elevator…alone. James slowly slides my body off of his. I feel every single perfect inch of him pressed against me, and when my feet touch the ground, my chin automatically lifts. I stare up into his intense emerald gaze and I’m instantly consumed. I’m consumed by my love for this man, consumed by my overwhelming desire to get naked and dirty with him.
He pushes my body gently and my back drives into one of the elevator walls. His strong, drool-worthy arms cage me in. His palms rest on either side of my head and he continues to hover over me with a predatory gaze.
Oh, fuck yes.
My mind can’t seem to form a coherent thought as I let his eyes roam over my body, searing every inch of me. Why did I wait so long to give in to this? God, I’m a fucking moron. Remind me to smack myself later. Much later. Sometime next week after I’ve mustered the strength to disentangle myself from James’s cock.
His mouth hovers over mine and his teeth nip at my bottom lip. I groan and his lips crease into a sly grin. He pushes himself against me and I shudder when his arousal hits that toe-curling spot. We have yet to speak any words since we stepped inside this elevator. No words are needed in this moment. We both know what’s about to go down.
The elevator dings, announcing our arrival to his floor, and he steps back from me. His mouth forms a wicked grin, and without any preamble, he throws my body over his shoulder…again.
This is starting to become a theme—a theme I’m thoroughly enjoying.
James’s long legs make quick work of the hallway, and when we finally reach his door, he slides his keycard in without difficulty. In a matter of seconds, he has the door shut behind us and he’s pressing into me, pushing my body against the door. My breath hitches when his hand grips my thigh and lifts it up, wrapping my leg around his waist.
My dress is now pushed up around my stomach and my black satin panties are visible to his sensual gaze. “These need to go,” he demands before ripping the delicate fabric right off of my body.
Oh holy panty-ripper.
“Fuck, Amy,” he growls into my ear as his mouth licks and sucks at my neck.
I am ravenous for him. My hands push his leather jacket off of his back and my fingers slide underneath his t-shirt. My nails dig into his skin as he crushes his mouth to mine. Our kiss is all-consuming, completely mind-blowing, and I think this kiss has me stupefied. No seriously, I think I’ve lost brain cells. James’s body is like my own personal version of cocaine. I’m addicted to him. I want to lick him up and taste every perfect inch. If I could crawl inside his body, I would.
I moan loudly when he thrusts his jean-clad hardness against my bare skin.
“These need to go,” I tell him as my fingers frantically work towards unzipping his jeans. “Get that perfect cock out for me, James,” I whisper as my hands push his jeans and boxer briefs down just enough to reveal that dirty-blond swatch of hair that leads to the Promised Land.
“Say it,” he commands with a smug grin. His eyes shine with amusement.
Asshole. I know exactly what he wants me to say. Normally, I would tell him to kiss my ass, but today, I feel like obliging his ego. I’ll buy into this game. I’ll stroke him to satisfaction.
“Get. That. Huge. Thick. Soup. Can. Cock…inside of me.” I speak the last words seductively, purring them into his ear.
“Amy?” His eyes are demanding, staring down into mine, and exuding enough heat to light my entire body on fire.
“Yeah?” I manage to rasp out.
“Hold on tight, baby. I’m going to fuck you now.”
Oh yes, please.
And we’ve reached that pivotal point where I am no longer capable of coherent thought…
Chapter Thirty-Six
“I’m a cock. I enjoy deep thrusts, long fucks, and hard pounding.
End. Of. Story.” – James’s cock
Amy’s back is pressed against the hotel door. Her legs are wrapped around my waist, the heels of her feet urging me deeper. In one fluid motion, I thrust into her fast and hard. Her head falls back and she moans in a deep, raspy voice. Her cheeks are flushed pink and her lashes sweep downward with each jarring penetration. She feels incredible.
“Fuck me, James,” she whispers into my ear as her nails scratch down my back.
My hands grip her firm ass and a long groan escapes my throat. Amy’s body is tight and hot and everything I’ve ever dreamed of. She’s panting and moaning, and I feel her clench around me in rhythmic waves. I’m going to fuck her senseless. Every time she moves tomorrow, she’ll be reminded of me. She’ll be reminded of my cock inside of her, filling her, pleasing her, making her come. She might need a wheelchair to get around for a few days—crutches at the very least.
“Oh my god, James! I fucking love your cock!” she cries out.
I grunt in response and continue plunging inside of her, seating myself deeper, and bringing her closer to climax.
This is James’s cock. We’re busy right now.
That grey matter three feet north is useless at the moment because I am in control.
Don’t worry. I’ll stick with his plan of action and will continue to fuck Amy’s brains out.
I own this shit.
Epilogue
“Happy beginnings, make-up sex, and telephonic exorcisms.” - Amy
Three weeks later…
I never thought I’d say these words, but I’m officially in therapy. Yes, Amy Jackson is currently seeing a therapist twice a week. My therapist came highly recommended from my best friend, Ellen. She has been utilizing these grief-counseling services since her ill-fated attack over a year and half ago. Ellen had nothing but awesome things to say about my new psychiatrist, Susan.
After my first therapy appointment, I knew Ellen was right. Just one hour of sitting in Susan’s office and I felt like I had made an insane amount of progress in dealing with my grief from Benny’s death. I’m aware that’s an interesting choice of words when discussing therapy and psychiatrists, but it’s the truth. In three weeks’ time, I’ve faced a lot of my demons. I’ve relived some of the most traumatic memories of Benny’s death. These therapy sessions make me feel like I’m in the middle of a detox and I’m slowly purging my system of everything I’ve buried away for far too long.
This is both an excruciatingly painful and surprisingly refreshing process. Yes, it’s painful to go back to the day that Benny died. I’m sick with grief when I’m reminded of that horrifying day. The day I found him dead. The devastating moment when I saw his lifeless body in our swimming pool. These memories, the visuals that are spurred inside of my brain, are sometimes too much to process, but the fact that I’m actually facing them makes me hopeful. Therapy has become something I look forward to. After each session, I feel like I’m slowly gaining a piece of myself back.
I almost never thought I would see this day. I never imagined that I would reach a point in my life where I would actually start to function like a normal human being. It’s pretty awesome. And James, well… He makes everything one hundred times better. I can actually admit that we’re in a relationship now, and I’ve been known to even say the word boyfriend out loud. Yes, I’ve actually called James my boyfriend in front of other people.
This makes him very happy.
You can only imagine the cocky, smug grin that spreads across his mouth. Yeah, he’s kind of an asshole that way. He’s an asshole who managed to push himself into my life and plow through all of my ironclad walls. He was a force to be reckoned with, and I’ll forever be thankful that he never gave up on me. If it weren’t for James, I’d probably never be where I’m at right now. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks since I finally admitted that I love him, but this was a long time coming.
So here we are, James and I, working towards our happy beginning. Because that’s where we’re at right now—we’re right at the beginning. We’re not rushing things. We’re not talking about moving in together or professing words like marriage or family. We’re just basking in the happy start of our relationship. James and I are right smack in the middle of that wonderful period of time where you can’t keep your hands off of each other and you find yourself giddy with excitement at the sound of each other’s voices.
We’re savoring each other and all of the firsts we can share together. Things like our first date at the movies or the first time we enjoyed dinner with friends as an official couple. We’ve also experienced our first fight, first make-up sex, first fight after makeup sex… I’m starting to wonder if James makes a goal to get me riled up just so we can fight and then angrily screw each other’s brains out. The man is kind of a genius that way.
I still have my moments of being scared shitless that my selfish tendencies will destroy us, but James is always there to reassure me. The man gets me in a way that no one else ever has, and I realize that this makes me the luckiest bitch on the planet.
I’m currently lounging on James’s sofa, watching a movie as he sits beside me. He’s busy working on a few documents that have something to do with insurance premiums for his practice. This makes me appreciative that I’m just a lowly nurse. I have no desire to deal with any of that nonsense, not to mention the fact that my brain probably doesn’t have the mental capacity to understand it. My mind is too busy reading smut novels and keeping track of my favorite reality shows. Shows that James acts like he despises, but I know he secretly loves them.
He’s a closet Kardashian fan, by the way, and I know for a fact that Kourtney is his favorite. I found this out the other day when I was sitting on the couch, watching re-runs of The Kardashians when James proceeded to ask me if Kourtney had had her baby yet. It took me a good fifteen minutes to stop laughing, and the only reason I did was because James had thrown me over his shoulder and carried me into his bedroom.
I pull my attention away from the flat screen when I hear James let out a sigh. His brow is furrowed and he appears more than frustrated. I slide my foot in front of his computer screen, visibly interrupting his train of thought.
“God dammit, Amy!” he spits in my direction.
This does not deter me in my quest to get him worked up. I continue to wiggle my foot around his laptop screen as he unsuccessfully tries to swat it away.
“Amy.” He says my name with his famous warning tone as his eyes close shut in annoyance.
My only response is to keep wiggling my foot around in his face.
“Amy,” he warns again. This time he takes a deep inhale and groans loudly when the air finally leaves his lungs.
“Oh come on, Limp Dick. Lighten up a little,” I
goad him. I’ve found that muttering his old nickname usually benefits me in the most delightful way.
His eyes snap towards mine, nearly spitting fire in my direction.
“Oh are you pissed now? Did I hurt your frail ego?” I ask sarcastically as a sly smile crests my lips.
James sets his laptop down on the coffee table and proceeds to launch himself on top of my body. I’m splayed out comfortably on his couch, and now his masculine physique is suspended over top of me. “Does this feel limp to you?” he jokingly questions as he thrusts his pelvis into mine.
A combination of a giggle and a moan are wrenched out of my mouth as he grinds himself against me. God, that feels good. The anticipation of getting naked with James is already starting to make my body warm and tingly.
“You didn’t answer me,” he scolds as he grabs my hand and places it over his obvious arousal. He repeats his question, eyeing me with a wicked intent. “Does this feel limp to you?”
I squeeze him gently with my palm and stifle the urge to crush my mouth to his. “Eh, it’s not limp, but it could definitely be harder,” I deadpan.
I’m lying.
James’s cock is straining…hard. His dick has provided enough room inside of his sweatpants that I could bring my sleeping bag and camp out for the night.
If I laid him on his stomach, I could spin him like a top.
He could literally do cock push-ups right now if he wanted to.
Have I mentioned that I love James’s cock?
He abruptly stands up and continues to stare down at me with a wicked expression. I have no idea what this man has planned for me, but I have a feeling I’m going to love it. And then…he shocks the shit out of me by turning around and walking down the hall towards his bedroom.
“Hey! Where in the hell are you going?” I shout as I sit up on the couch.
“None of your business, sweetheart,” he calls over his shoulder.