by Logan Chance
I head back to my office when my phone pings with a text from Ford.
Let me in.
I smile as I rush to the back door.
“What are you doing here?”
He steps inside, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I had to see you.”
“Oh? And what did you need to see me for?”
“This.” And he kisses me, long and deep.
And I love everything about his kisses.
They make me feel like I’m soaring through the clouds.
His hands roam further down my body, gripping my ass. That’s all the incentive I need to slam the back door.
He moves me toward the office. “I need to be inside you, right now.”
We enter the office, and I slip off my heels as he yanks at his tie. His eyes scour my body as I shed my blouse and pencil skirt. But, he’s moving at a much faster pace, because he’s naked before I can remove my panties and bra.
“Come here,” his deep voice rasps out.
And I do as he says, and when I get to him, he cherishes my body with his simple touch. “I love you,” he says.
I smile as his rough hands roam over my skin. “I love you too.”
And then no more words are needed, because he lifts me up and places me on the desk. I spread my legs for him as he kisses down my neck.
He lifts his hand, wrapping it around my neck and squeezes gently. “I love your neck,” he says.
I moan as he pumps his hard dick with his other hand.
“I need you now.” I’m demanding and forceful, letting him know that it’s now or never. That I can’t wait one more minute.
His lip curves into a slow grin, and he steps a little closer.
“I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready.”
Pollux
She’s probably the hottest I’ve ever seen, sitting on the desk, her legs spread just for me. And only for me.
The past few months with Katy have been life changing. She’s everything I could have ever wanted. Even more so.
We decided we want to be married and are planning our wedding in a few short months. And I can’t wait to have her as my wife.
My cock pulses with need and want for this sexy goddess that’s all mine. I move closer, breathing her in.
And then I kiss her with everything I’m feeling in this moment. With everything I have for her. A spark travels between us, one so powerful it would destroy me if I ever lost it.
I groan as I break the kiss and make my way down her body to her plump tits, sucking one into my mouth and palming the other. She has the greatest tits known to man. Seriously, they’re epic. I could build a shrine to their honor, but instead I’d rather just suck on them for a while, which Katy lets me do often. But what I love more than her tits is her ass. Nice, firm and I grab a handful and she moans, leaning her head back and I suck her nipple into my mouth.
My dick is harder than stone, and I need to fuck her…now.
“Are you wet for me? Is that pussy of yours soaked?”
She nods her head, mewling a soft reply.
“I can’t hear you,” I say.
“Yes.”
I run my cock through her wetness, and goddamn it feels so good. She’s so wet, and I love how much I turn her on. I love how crazy she gets for my touch. How wild she gets for my kiss.
I press my dick at her entrance, and push through, making a home. And I squeeze her ass harder, slamming into her a few times.
She grips my back, her hands sliding down my body, her nails tracing a pattern into my skin. She’s digging them in, and it urges me on. I push up into her, and she kisses me.
And then, we’re full on fucking and the sounds of it fill the room. Every time I fuck this girl, it’s better than the last.
Each time, she opens up to me more and more. My heart pounds in my chest, and I’m so fucking close to coming deep inside her.
I love being inside her.
To be with someone who understands you so much is indescribable. I never thought I’d ever find someone so special. But, I was so wrong. Katy came at a time I never expected, and now I’ll never let her go.
I keep fucking as her body grinds and writhes beneath me. So hot.
She’s a confident sexy woman, and I love showing her how much she turns me on. What she does to me.
How much I think about her all day long. And how I can’t wait to fuck her like I’m doing now.
Her hands fall to my ass, and she digs in, pushing me deeper inside of her tight pussy. And then I fuck her as hard as I can. Fast, strong, screwing her as good as I can.
“Oh God,” she cries out.
The desk scoots along the floor as I keep pounding.
“Your pussy is so fucking good.”
“I’m coming,” she screams, and I keep pumping through her orgasm, making her scream even louder.
My girl’s a screamer, and a biter, and everything else she can be that turns me on so much.
I bite her neck, sucking along her skin and come deep inside her. It keeps going, on and on, over and over, and she cries out she’s coming again.
After we’ve calmed down and dressed, she gathers her things, and I walk us home.
I hold her hand, and we laugh as we talk about our future. One of us two together forever.
Keep reading for a sneak peek of a never before seen book.
Untitled, coming late 2018
Sneak Peek
Chapter 1
Lexi
“Miss Lexi Murphy,
We are pleased to inform you that Bunny Hunnies is moving forward with our plan to branch out into the music industry with our newest endeavor, Rockin Rollers.
We are delighted to extend to you the offer of Music Journalist.
Your responsibilities will include but not be limited to: interviewing artists, attending live shows across the country, and submitting an article every week.”
I’ve read the offer letter a million times and still can’t believe it. I, Lexi Murphy, landed a cool ass job that pays more than my last two combined.
It still hasn’t sunk in they picked me. Let’s just say, I may have slightly embellished my qualifications. I’m not a dishonest person by nature, but, sometimes you do what you need to do to get your foot in the door before it’s slammed in your hopeful face. And now, happy dance, thanks to a slightly padded resume and a load of determination, my whole five foot six body is in and finally headed on a stable career path.
Take that, William ‘You’re fired, Lexi,’ Watson.
Ugh, I don’t even want to think about that jackass. He’s going in my yet to be written memoir under ‘Dicks who’ve held me back’ It will read like a dating manual on how not to treat a woman. All of my exes will have a chapter: ‘The Liar,’ ‘The Cheater,’ ‘The Narcissist,’ and can’t forget ‘The Control Freak.’
It’s shameful to admit that. At thirty, I should know better.
I place the offer letter back on my dresser and start getting ready for my first assignment.
“Are you nervous about tonight?” Belinda, my best friend, asks, sitting on my bed, as I slip into a pair of tight jeans.
“Not at all,” I lie.
I’m so nervous, I’m nauseous. I haven’t eaten all day, because this first assignment is interviewing none other than Devin Wagner, lead singer of Pushing Buttons, an up and coming band that is the buzz of Miami. I’ve heard him play a few times when I was out having drinks with the girls, and then in a twist of fate my then roommate, Lizzy, started dating his older brother. Older. Therein lies the problem: Devin is at least six years younger than me. And I’m attracted to him. Like face flushed, nipple hardening, roller coaster in the belly attracted. It’s his lips. And the voice.
It’s a nice fantasy, but it’ll never happen.
Doesn’t stop me from going to hear him play, though. It’s like I’m addicted or something. Addicted to the music, not him. Ok, maybe him a little bit.
Belinda and Lizzy, like best friends
do, know all about my crush and tell me to go for it. They say be the sexy cougar and wear that title proud. But there’s something holding me back. I know what you’re thinking, I’m usually so bold and daring, but not with him.
I get all… shy. That’s not me. For some reason whenever I’m around him, I become this coy, blushing version of myself.
Well, not tonight. Tonight, I’m going to do my job and actually have a conversation with him. With Belinda there as support.
“Maybe you should wear the little blue dress. It really brings out your eyes,” she says.
After pulling on a silky, off the shoulder black top, I glance over to the ocean blue dress in question.
“I was saving that dress.”
“Oh yeah? For what?”
I glance at myself in the mirror, running my fingers through my dark hair. “A special date.”
Sounds silly to say it out loud.
She wiggles her eyebrows. “Maybe with Devin?”
“Stop.” I laugh. “I would hope I can be professional.”
High hopes will get you everywhere in life, or it’ll get you nowhere. For me, it’s getting me closer to the mental institution. I mean, it’s Devin Wagner.
Let me break it down…
Disheveled black hair. Piercing green eyes. Like an intense pine green. A lip ring. Tattoos. A tall body that is definitely packing, if you know what I mean. And a set of vocal chords that’ll melt your skin right off.
Have I mentioned he’s young? He would be right now and not forever.
I should be settling down, thinking about babies, and how I want to design my perfect home. In love, like my twin brother Erik, and younger sister, Marley, who’ve both found ‘their one.’ I’m just one, going solo everywhere. I’m getting too old for late-night parties and all-nighters at the clubs. I’d rather sit at home, Netflixing and chilling.
I dab my face with a hint of makeup, shove the nerves down, and head out the door with Belinda to the Whack Shack, a local watering hole where Pushing Buttons is playing.
Belinda parks her little Volkswagen and we hop out and mix in with the already burgeoning crowd streaming in to find a hookup or blow off steam. I learned from my last job at a lifestyle magazine in South Florida it’s all about timing.
Showing up too early, you appear desperate, like you don’t have a life.
Too late, and you may miss out on a good spot as well as lose that spot to some twenty-two year old Barbie doll with fake teeth and fake hair.
We step inside the Whack Shack, and just like its name implies, it’s comprised of wacky memorabilia from Goofy to Kramer’s shoes from Jerry Seinfeld.
The deep rasp of Devin’s voice sexually assaults my ears, and I try to avert my eyes from staring at him. I need to be professional. Objective, not objectifying him. It’s hard. So hard.
A tall blond-haired man at the bar gives me a small smile, and I return the sentiment half-hearted.
Belinda nudges me. “Devin just took off his shirt.”
I spin around. “What?” And then I’m slammed with the perfection on stage. He has a shirt on, but he’s still a glorious sight, and it makes the guy standing at the bar a second place prize.
“Made you look.” She laughs. “Will you and him just hook up already and get it over with?”
I flag the bartender. “I’m not wanting to hook up.” I order a gin and tonic. “This is business.”
Belinda eyes me carefully. “Sure.”
She orders a Cosmopolitan, and we move closer to the stage, squeezing in between the swaying boobs and head bobbing brawn surrounding the band.
Devin smiles and I smile back. It’s infectious.
He controls the Friday night crowd with his charismatic presence. And then he does take his shirt off and wipes his sexy brow before tossing it into the air.
And the place goes wild. Tanned arms reach for the flying garment like someone just flung a million dollars at them.
Belinda and I get pushed back, and I raise my drink so I don’t spill it on myself.
“It’s just a shirt,” I say to Belinda above the catcalls and screams.
She takes a sip of her pink drink and nods. “Yeah, well, it’s got future rock star sweat on it.”
Even though I don’t know Devin that well, only hung out a few times, I still feel extremely proud of him. Their energy on stage demands attention, and I hope one day they do get discovered and everyone in the world can see their talent.
A slow song starts, and the gin makes its way to my hips, swaying them to the beat.
I lock eyes with Devin. He belts out the seductive lyrics about taking your time while never removing his eyes from mine. It sends a tiny shrill of excitement through me.
And then he winks, and I realize I’m in big trouble.
Chapter 2
Devin
“So, where do you want to do it?”
That innocent question from Lexi is so loaded. She stands under a spotlight made just for her ready to interview me between sets.
“Against a wall?” I answer, giving a little wink.
I swear this girl is beautiful beyond words. Long dark hair, piercing blue eyes. A smile that makes my heart pound like the heavy bass of Jax’s drum. But, I can tell she sees me as a kid. Some young guy who doesn’t know what I want.
“Shouldn’t we go somewhere more quiet?” she questions, glancing around at the crowded bar.
“Follow me,” I tell her, leading her down the dimly lit hallway into the empty back room used as our makeshift waiting area.
“This is much better,” she says as I close the door. “Too much noise out there.”
She takes a seat on one of the padded chairs scattered throughout the room and pulls a small recorder and mini notebook from her handbag. I watch her test the recorder. She has no idea what she does to me. Last weekend, when we were close together in a booth while the guys and Belinda chatted away about possible venues to showcase our band, Lexi ran her hand up my thigh. Of course she didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t even done in a sexual way. Just a ‘trying to get my attention’ way. Well, it fucking worked. She got my attention, and the attention of my dick as well. Both of us perked up, ready for more one-on-one contact with her.
“I didn’t know you were a music journalist.” I slide a chair in front of her and sit, crossing my arms. The ink on my skin heats as her eyes trace the patterns of my sleeve. “Thought you did some kind of lifestyle shit.”
“It was shit,” she answers. “That’s why I do this now.
I chuckle at her non filtered answer. “Fair enough.”
She leans forward a bit. Very focused. Very sexy. “So, do you write all of your songs?”
“Yeah,” I answer.
“That’s pretty impressive.” Her eyes hold mine and then she makes a note. “Do you write the music too?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s your inspiration?”
“Different things.”
She tilts her head, waiting for more. But I don’t fucking know how to answer her question. It’s private. How do I explain that anything from the bow of her pink lip to the dusting of freckles across her nose can light the spark?
“Listen,” she tells me, “I’m gonna need you to open up to me a little bit here. Cause they’re going to fall asleep reading this. And I can’t have my first assignment be a snooze fest.”
I laugh a little. Alright, I’ll play. “Well, it can be anything.” She lifts a brow, and I give her what she wants. “Maybe thinking about someone you want to fuck.” My voice drops to a husky murmur. “What it would be like. Hard. Or slow. The trace of your hand down their curves, between their legs, into the wet heat of their pussy. Taking your time with them.” She sits statue still, wide eyed at my answer. “Was that better?”
“Um, yes,” she says, looking down, scribbling in her notebook. “Just making a note to edit out the p word.”
“Pussy?”
“Ok,” she flicks her eyes up to me, “c
ould you not say that again?”
“Pussy?” Her cheeks are flaming. “You don’t like that word?”
“Coming from you, it just sounds…” she trails off, leaving me in suspense. “It’s so hot in here. Do they not have air in this place?”
Her sudden demureness is a big fucking turn on. “Sounds what?”
“I don’t know,” she mumbles.
“Ok, I won’t say pussy again.”
She shifts in the chair and crosses her legs. “Thank you.”
For the next fifteen minutes, she doesn’t look at me while she fires off questions and I can’t help but bait her with my answers. Jokes on me though, because I have a massive hard on watching the way she licks her lips or tucks a strand of silky hair behind her ear.
“Devin,” Kennon, the guitar player, peeks his head in the door, “it’s time, dude.”
Lexi shoves her notebook and recorder in her purse like it has the plague. “This was great. I’ll let you know when it goes to publication.”
“Pleasure was all mine,” I say as she rushes past Kennon.
“She’s so damn hot,” he says when Lexi is gone.
“Watch your mouth,” I warn him.
“Oh, it’s like that, huh?”
“Fuck off,” I say following him out and back to the stage.
This place is insane tonight. Standing room only. I look over at Kennon and he gives me a head nod back and the wail of his guitar amps up the crowd. Adrenaline rushes through my veins. My eyes scan the crowd for Lexi, and land on her standing next to Callum, Kennon’s older brother and our manager.
I think she has a thing for him, if I’m being honest. They’re closer in age, and ‘life values.’ That’s what my older brother, Ryan, calls it. “Devin, find a girl who shares the same values as you do” or some cheesy shit like that.
I don’t even know what that means, but I do know what I want in my life: a solid music career, and her.
“Grab your drinks and let’s wind this fucker down,” I say into the mic.
The crowd erupts like I just delivered a rally cry. Their booze fueled screams fill the dark bar, and I get drunk on the frenzy in front of me.