by Laura Ward
I traced my hand down Julie’s body, sliding it between her legs, over the fabric of her leggings as she read to me. She shifted onto her side, one of her hands exploring the hard planes of my body with a greediness I wasn’t used to. She continued with the story, her voice wavering a little with the words.
She giggled. “This story is a lot more fun when it’s interactive,” she said, her voice breathy.
“Agreed.” I rubbed my hand back and forth between her legs, dragging my middle finger with extra pressure and her hips moved with the motion. “Keep reading,” I reminded her.
Julie took a deep shuddering breath and continued.
“She moaned as my fingers plunged in and out. She took me in her hand and lifted her body up. I removed my fingers, wrapping my hand around hers as she rubbed my tip through her slick warmth. Then she lowered down, taking me inside her in a teasingly slow descent.”
“I like this story,” I said, my voice a deep growl. My fingers were busy exploring Julie as her hand moved lower down my abs, turning my mind and nerve endings inside out.
Julie’s teeth grazed my shoulder in a gentle bite before she softened it with a kiss. “I can’t believe I’m reading porn to you.” Her hand moved slowly over top of my pajama pants and then she was dragging her fingers across my erection. “Is this okay? Does it hurt?”
I chuckled. “That is the exact opposite of hurting, Jules.”
“Do you want me to keep reading?”
“I want you to keep doing everything.”
She cleared her throat, but her hand kept moving. Gently.
“When the backs of her thighs grazed my legs and I was wrapped tightly in her heat, I fisted my hand in her hair, tilting her head to the side to kiss the part of her neck that met her shoulder. My gaze focused on our reflection as she began to move up and down, her skin sliding against mine. Her speed increased and with each controlled lift and roll of her hips, she gave herself over to me one jagged little piece at a time.”
My hand slipped inside Julie’s pants and she gasped, her words faltering for a moment as my palm flattened across her warm skin and my finger dipped into the slick warmth between her legs.
“I…I thrust my hips up,” she read, her hips lifting, “each plunge of my body into hers bringing my name to her lips. The reflection of her in the mirror was a heady mix of vulner…vulnerability and strength. She was in control but exposed to me in every possible way.”
“Is this okay?” Julie asked, abandoning the story for a moment as her hand eased beneath my waistband, wrapping around me. My cock twitched in response and her fingers tightened around it.
“Yes. Keep reading,” I managed to say.
“She was in control, but exposed me in every possible, way,” Julie repeated. “I wrapped an arm around her back, my hand gripping her opposite shoulder so that I could pull her back down onto me every time she lifted up.
‘Don’t let go,’ she begged, as if my grip was the only thing holding her together.
‘Don’t stop saying my name,’ I demanded.”
Julie’s hand stroked me and when her thumb rubbed across the tip of me, I made a hungry noise in the back of my throat and tilted my hips up into her hand.
“Say my name,” I demanded, like the narrator in the story.
Beside me, Julie’s head shifted on the pillow and I knew she must be looking at me.
“Ben.” That tiny syllable. Those three little letters were full of so much sexual tension I couldn’t stop my hips from jerking up into her hand. Seeking her touch.
“That voice. I love your voice. Keep reading,” I begged. My fingers were rubbing and caressing between her legs, dipping inside her, and I wondered if her eyes were fluttering shut. If she would keep reading or give herself over to me.
Just when I thought she’d toss the Kindle to the side, she spoke again.
“’Tell me you’re close,’ she urged, her words little more than a breath.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the reflection of us in the window and I wondered if anyone outside could see us, if they were watching as she writhed on top of me, taking whatever pleasure she wanted from me.”
I pulled Julie into me, grimacing a bit with the motion, until I could feel her breath, hot and sweet, between us. Our legs were still tangled together, and our hips pushed against each other, grinding in a slow, sensual motion, our hands living out the story she was reading.
Julie sighed and began reading again.
“I reached between us, circling my fingers right above where I plunged inside of her. She pushed her hands into my hair, her head falling to my shoulder, her moans sliding across my sweat-soaked skin. She bit the curve of my neck. I reached up with my hand to lift her chin.”
I pulled my hand out of her pants and at first Julie whined in protest.
“Trust me.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead and then eased her hand out of my pajama bottoms and guided it to my ass. “Hold on.”
My hand slid around her waist, caressing the swell of her ass before it traced the back of her leg. My fingers curled behind her knee and I yanked her leg up and over my thigh. With the next roll of my hips, I knew she could feel my want, my hardness pressing into her. She took a deep shuddering breath, forcing herself to concentrate on reading. Only now, the words were broken with tiny hums in the back of her throat, heavy breaths that made it hard for her to speak because I was rocking into her. Fucking her without actually fucking her.
No. Not fucking. Making love.
“’Do you want me to make you—you come?’ I asked.
She nodded, and I grabbed her hips, the speed and intensity of my thrusts increasing until the word I wanted to hear suddenly burst from between her lips.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” she chanted.
I held her tightly, following her over the edge with a final thrust.”
Julie’s softness rubbing over my hardness. Gently. Over and over again. Sweet. Slow. A promise.
“She opened her…her eyes and we stared at each other, our bodies a tangle of sweaty limbs and heavy breaths. My fingers slid between hers, and I held her close, kissing her neck with soft touches of my lips.”
Our bodies slowed but my blood still rushed through me as I held Julie close as she continued to read the story.
“’I’m desperate for you,’ she whispered, all of her defenses shattered as she clung to me. ’Can’t you see what you do to me?’
I nuzzled her neck, holding her close. ’I see what you do to me.’”
Julie’s voice filled my head, and my body was desperate for all the things she was saying. My hand left her knee and roamed back up her side until I found her fingers. I gently pried the Kindle from her hand and set it on the bed behind her. My fingertips grazed along her cheeks and she turned her head to kiss the inside of my palm.
“I wish you could see what you do to me,” she said, her voice raw and honest.
“I do.” My eyes were closed, not that it mattered. The darkness was my world, had always been my world, but this girl was making me see in ways I never had before. My hand ghosted along her arm and waist. Her skin pebbled, muscles shuddered, and body arched toward into my touch. “I see you in my own way.” I pressed my lips gently to hers. “I see the sound of your heart.”
Chapter Twelve
Julie
My mom tended to choose losers when it came to the guys she dated, but a single Nikki Prescott on the prowl was even more of a hot mess than the one who was in love with a dirtbag. And because Gary had left her for a girl half her age, she was even more desperate than usual to reclaim her youthfulness by hanging out with me even though she lived an hour away. It seemed she couldn’t resist falling back on the security of her favorite accessory. Me.
I’d managed to avoid her for most of the week by giving her the excuse that midterms were coming up and I needed to study. Thankfully, her nine-to-five job limited her ability to latch onto me in true parasitic style most days and I’d made it clear she wasn’t c
oming to any sorority parties with me. However, if she didn’t find a new man soon, I knew she’d find her way back to my doorstep and onto the barstool next to me at night. That was unacceptable.
The last thing I needed was my mom tagging along to The Shell while I drooled all over my bass boy and she tried to hook up with guys I went to class with...or had already hooked up with.
But today I wasn’t going to worry about her. It was Saturday and Ben and I had a day date since Honor Bound was playing the nine o’clock show tonight. What I was looking forward to, was after his gig at The Shell when I’d be able to take him back to my room and share the new book we’d been reading together. Reading to him was the best fucking foreplay ever.
Although to be honest, we hadn’t made it past the foreplay part yet since he was still healing. Sure his mouth had been on me, but the epic meeting of the va-jay-jay and man-stick had yet to occur.
Rotten luck. I was getting sick of the word patience. Taking things slow had never been my style.
Ben’s fingers tangling with mine brought me out of my thoughts and I looked over to see him grinning. The purple bruises under his eyes were mostly faded now.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked. He’d ordered an Uber to take us downtown, but I hadn’t recognized the address he’d given the guy.
Ben released my fingers and stretched his arm across the back of the seat, creating a cozy little nook of tattoos and muscle for me to cuddle up in. His hand slid between the strands of my hair to caress the back of my neck. He bent down until his lips were against my ear.
“It’s a surprise,” he responded in a low voice that was just short of a growl. The way his breath fanned over my neck made my panties twist and my skin tingle.
“Hmmm, okay. Then I get to bother you during our mystery car ride.” I pulled his arm from the back of the seat, draping it across me. “Tell me about your tattoos. For someone with no sight, why would you care about marking your body?” I kissed a bright burst of flames, watching as goosebumps rose along his flesh. “Don’t get me wrong, your tattoos get me all hot and bothered. I’m just curious.”
Ben nodded, his lips pursed. “Good question. And you’re right, might seem odd for a blind guy to be tatted up. For me, it’s a way of telling my story. Each tattoo represents a song or a musician that has shaped the way I view the world. Nate draws what I describe and as they are etched into my skin, I swear I can see the picture. It’s kind of like permanent braille.”
He chuckled, linking our fingers together and kissing my hand.
“That’s amazing. I love that.” I stared at his profile, safe in the knowledge that he couldn’t see the adoration in my eyes. Every moment with him, I fell harder. Deeper.
“We should be close. I’ll tell you where we’re going now. It’s the Cake Factory.”
“What is that? Some sort of cooking class?” Maybe it was like those places that did paint night classes that people went to with a bottle of wine where everyone painted the same tree and sunset and drank themselves stupid. But instead of painting, maybe we were going to bake while drinking wine.
I was shit at cooking, but I was the master at wine consumption. I’d be able to do at least one of those things well.
“Not cooking,” Ben said, twirling a piece of my hair around the tip of his finger and then using the grip on that strand to turn my face toward him, brushing his lips against mine. “Eating.”
Eating? At the Cake Factory? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could sense the panic rising, my natural instinct calculating all the calories in a single slice of cake and the amount of water-only days I’d endure later to make up for a date full of eating desserts with Ben.
Oblivious to my concerns, Ben continued to kiss me, and at some point, I found I didn’t give a fuck about the calories and kissed him back.
I’d worry about the calories later.
The Uber dropped us off in front of a cute cafe with candy-colored awnings and we stood on the sidewalk in front, the smell of sweets and sugar heavy in the air.
My hand was still in Ben’s, his other one holding his cane. “I’ve never been here,” he said, giving my hand a tentative squeeze.
I turned to find his expression was hesitant. He’d never been here and didn’t know his way around. As independent as he was, he would need my help here. At least a little bit. He’d brought me on a date to a place where he was forced to expose his weakness to me. Allowing himself to be vulnerable took an incredible amount of bravery.
The way he placed his trust so willingly in me proved how strong and fearless he was. He’d told me on more than one occasion that he liked taking the lead, and today he was laying himself bare, allowing me to be the one to lead him. His confidence in me kindled something deep inside. I couldn’t put a name to what it was, but I could tell it was strong and fierce and feverish.
I liked it.
“Let’s eat cake,” I said, guiding him forward, careful to be gentle and discreet like Caz usually was.
I pushed open the fancy gilded door and a bell tinkled cheerily overhead right before we were hit with the scent of warm sugar. Taking a deep breath of the sweet air around me, I felt myself gain five pounds right on the spot.
I closed my eyes and groaned in happiness at the smell.
Ben chuckled. “Time to make your mouth happy. I bet you’ve never tasted anything as good as the stuff they’ve got here.”
I pressed myself into his side. “I don’t mind skipping the cake. I’m perfectly happy to put my mouth on you and only you.”
He bent to kiss my temple, speaking low enough that no one around us could hear, “We’ll get extra for after The Shell tonight.”
My panties twisted up tighter than before. Ben, icing, and smutty stories. That would be a good night indeed.
***
I ate two cupcakes and licked about a gallon of frosting off Ben’s fingers, at the Fat Factory. That’s what I was calling it from now on because Cake Factory was way too tame a name for that place and the amount of overindulgence I’d suffered while there.
Darren would never believe that I’d given in so willingly. He’d be even more surprised that I was now carrying a cute little takeout box of even more cakes for later tonight.
Despite my hatred of calories, the takeout box was a necessity. As was the very long walk back to my sorority house. Once we got back in the Uber for our ride home, I begged Ben to have us dropped off on the far side of campus so at least a long walk would make a dent, however small, in the calorie consumption that had occurred.
I cringed when I thought back to how I’d devoured the sweets without even a shred of apprehension. If the Tasmanian Devil and Cookie Monster had a love child, it would have looked pretty much like me inhaling those fucking cupcakes Ben had bought for us.
I was going to have to walk about five thousand miles to undo the damage.
“Tell me about your mom,” Ben said, breaking the silence.
The cupcakes churned in my gut and I scrunched my nose. “You don’t want to talk about her, do you?”
The squeeze of his hand was almost imperceptible, but I took comfort in it anyway. “Taren said she was in rough shape when she showed up last week. I was wondering how she was doing.”
I grunted in a very unladylike way, but since ladylike wasn’t my default mode, Ben didn’t seem to notice. “She makes bad choices when it comes to men and when they leave her, she goes a little insane. This time, she got in a catfight with her ex’s new girlfriend and got roughed up a bit.” I looked over to him. “Nothing close to what you went through. Most of it was superficial.” I added in a low voice, “Like my mom.”
“But she’s okay?”
“Physically, yes.”
Ben nodded and considered my answer for a few moments. “What about your dad? Do you talk to him much?”
“Nope. Not at all.” We came to a set of stairs, and when Ben’s cane hit the bottom step, he let go of my hand to reach out for the railing. I follow
ed him up, taking his hand again when we continued down the sidewalk.
“Do you miss him?”
I pulled my bottom lip through my teeth as I chewed on his question. That was a tough one to answer. It was hard to miss someone you never knew, but there was still a hole there.
“I think I miss the idea of him, but he left before I was old enough to even remember him being around. I don’t even know his name. He cheated on my mom, left her for another woman, and he’s ignored me for twenty years. He’s a complete douche canoe. So no, I don’t miss him.”
“You’ve never felt tempted to look for him? To ask your mom about him? You only know her side.”
I shrugged. “I’ve felt tempted a few times, but whenever my curiosity starts to get the best of me, I remind myself that he has never come around. Not in twenty years. So why should I make the effort? Why should I care when he clearly doesn’t?”
I glanced over to see how Ben was reacting to my admission and wondered whether he was thinking what I know most people thought about me. Daddy issues...no wonder she sleeps around.
“It’s his loss,” Ben finally said. “He chose the wrong girl.”
My laugh was half-hearted and dark. “I wouldn’t be so sure, you haven’t met my mom.”
Ben stopped walking and spun me around so we were facing each other. “I wasn’t talking about your mom, Jules. I was talking about you.” He reached up to cup my cheek and ran his thumb over my lips before placing a chaste kiss there. “He should have chosen you over everyone else. That was a huge mistake.”
“You don’t need to sweet talk me with pretty words, Ben.” I slid my tongue along my bottom lip, tasting the sweetness of the kiss he’d left there. “Haven’t I made it obvious I’m a sure thing?” I purred.
Tugging my hand, he started walking again, the cane leading the way. “And haven’t I made it obvious you’re worth more to me than a sure thing?”
My heart was doing its best impression of fireworks as it thudded in my chest. I wasn’t the girl he thought I was. When it came to guys, I was no better than my mom. I knew I didn’t deserve Ben or his compliments, but I was selfish enough to still want both.