Breaking the Seventh

by Allie Gail

  Raising his head, he tilts it to one side like a curious puppy. Even in the dark, I can make out the strange look he’s giving me. “I see.”

  “I just wouldn’t want to lead you on in any way.”

  “Yes, I believe you said that already.” Maybe I’m wrong, but his voice sounds almost amused. Why? Does he find the possibility of a relationship with me absurd? I guess I should be relieved that he doesn’t seem offended. Shouldn’t I? Damn him – he confuses the hell out of me without even trying!

  Some things never change.

  Thinking I may have sounded too blunt, I make a nervous attempt to backpedal a bit. “If I came off sounding like a bitch, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get all defensive. But I think it's only fair that I be totally up front and honest with you, so–”

  “So you wanted to make your position crystal clear,” he cuts me off. “I get it. Your message has been received and noted. Thank you for your candor.”

  Shit. He’s either mad or he's teasing me, but I’m damned if I know which.

  One of his hands strays down to leisurely adjust the bulge in his jeans. I guess he isn't mad.

  “Just for future reference, you should know that I have my own policies regarding honesty.”

  “Oh?” My eyes drop to the erection that's straining to be set free.

  “Mm-hm. And right now, to be perfectly honest, all I want to do is fuck you raw. So unless you have any more objections…” Abruptly he lifts my sundress up and over my head, removing it in one swift motion. “…what say we concentrate on making you come again?”

  Holy hell!

  Standing in front of him in nothing but my lingerie, I shiver as his words send a shock of adrenaline through me. His fingers are already sliding their way down the front of my panties and then he’s touching me there, right there, and I think my knees might buckle any minute from the decadence of those tiny strokes. Clutching his taut upper arms, I bite my lip in an effort to hold back a whimper of pleasure.

  “Is that a yes?” His lips form a knowing smile.

  Oh, God...

  My barely-clad boobs hitch in a quick gasp, and I suddenly realize that I had stopped breathing altogether.

  His fathomless eyes are watching me intently. “Let me hear you say it this time. Tell me yes, Melanie.” Two fingers work their way down to invade my slippery wetness before curving inside me. “Say yes for me.”

  “Oh, fuck – yes!” I’m practically panting already. “Yes!”

  “Are you sure…?” he teases, wiggling his fingers tantalizingly against my g-spot. I swear if he doesn’t stop that right now, I’m going to start humping his hand like a dog.

  Instead, I stealthily unsnap his jeans and lower the zipper. The head of his cock is already peeking out the top of his jockeys, and I circle a finger lightly over the silken tip, wetting it with his own arousal. It twitches against my hand, and he makes a noise that sounds almost like a growl.

  Ha! Two can play this game.

  “The question is, are you?” I whisper against his neck.

  “Baby, you’re about two seconds from finding out.”

  He pulls his hand away long enough to slide my panties down while I hastily unhook my bra and cast it aside. Taking a few steps back, I sit on the edge of the bed, watching with hungry eyes as he undresses. His body is beautiful. He is beautiful. I think he knows it too, because he carries himself with a confidence that I seem to be lacking.

  He always has.

  “Lie back for me, sweetheart.” Pushing gently against my shoulders, Shane leans into me for another deep kiss as I recline against the soft comforter. My knees are bent, both calves dangling over the side of the bed, his hard-on pressing warm and solid against my belly.

  Sweet mother of Neptune, this feels so good…

  Squirming impatiently beneath him, I nip at his bottom lip with a groan of frustration. I need him inside me now.

  The corners of his mouth quirk up as he grinds his cock against my aching sex. “Is this what you want?”

  Dumbest. Question. Ever.

  “You know it is.”

  “Mm…I don’t know. I think I should make you work for it.”

  “Don’t make me send you to the hospital with a foot up your ass, Dr. Becker,” I threaten him, half-seriously.

  “Shh…” Tapping a finger against my lips, he lowers his head to bite one of my nipples ever so lightly with his teeth before sucking. Hard. Almost hard enough to hurt, sparking a bizarre tingle of pleasure that teeters on the threshold of pain. Every time he tugs on it with his mouth, I can feel a corresponding throbbing between my thighs.

  On the verge of hyperventilating, I reach behind his head to free his hair from the elastic band. I want to feel those silky strands caressing my skin. I’ve never known a guy with such long hair – not that I’ve been with more than a handful of men to begin with – and the foreign sensation is incredibly erotic.

  I weave my fingers through it, pulling his head close as he shifts his attention to the other breast. The feeling is growing so intense, I’ve almost reached the point of begging him to stop when his mouth finally releases its hold on me.

  “Don’t move,” he whispers, licking and nibbling his way down my belly. Between kisses, he tells me, “You. Taste. So. Damn. Good.”

  He’s kneeling between my legs now. I want to sit up, but he did ask me not to move so I gaze up at the ceiling instead. What is he doing? Is he going to…

  Oh. Yes. Yes sirree, he most certainly is.

  Merciful God in heaven…

  My trembling fingers are laced in his as his tongue slowly circles my clit, and I feel my thighs start to quiver when he sucks gently. How can he be so good at this? I’m close already, so divinely close, and when he teases the hypersensitive spot with a series of quick flicks, that’s when I come undone.

  “Uuummmmm…” I clutch his hands in a death grip, riding wave after pulsating wave as he brings me to heights of ecstasy I never knew existed. “Shane…”

  With one last kiss between my legs, he produces a condom from out of nowhere – he must’ve had it tucked away in his jeans – and rolls it on before towering over me again. The ends of his hair tickle my bare skin, and when he claims my mouth I can taste the flavor of my own body on his tongue. There is something hedonistically delicious about it.

  He pushes his thick cock into me slowly, and I wrap my legs around him with a blissful moan. Oh, yes…I’ve been thinking about this all day, not to mention most of last night while I was tossing and turning. And it was definitely worth every minute of insomnia.

  “This what you wanted, baby?” His eyes are hazy with desire, and the way he’s looking at me makes my heart flutter.

  “Yes…” I whimper.

  “You like to be fucked hard? Hm? Is that what you want?”

  I’m not sure what to make of the dirty talk, but the way my body is responding it can’t be a bad thing. “Yes, please…”

  He throws my legs over his shoulders and pushes deeper, so far inside me I almost expect to feel him in my throat.

  “This doesn’t hurt, does it?”

  “No.” It almost does, but I don’t want him to stop. I love the wild, lustful expression on his face. I love knowing I’m the one who put it there. Whatever else happens, in this moment right now, it’s me that he wants. I am his fantasy, and he is mine.

  He slides in and then recedes in an agonizingly slow rhythm, his eyes never leaving mine. “Do you have any idea how many times I jerked off thinking about doing this to you?”

  I suck in my breath, aroused by the image. “You did?”

  “Damn right I did. All the motherfucking time.” He starts to pick up the pace, his strokes growing quicker and more forceful. “Ah, sweetheart, you feel like heaven. I always knew you would.”

  “Mm…Shane…”

  “You feel this, baby? This big, horny cock – it’s all for you. Been waiting for you all these years. You fucking remember that.”

  Gripping
my ankles, he thrusts harder and faster, slamming into me again and again and again, giving me just what I asked for, fucking me hard, harder, and oh my God, no way, I’m about to come again – that’s never happened before, never…

  I cry out some garbled endearment – even I don’t know what the words mean – and the sight of me climaxing again must send him over the edge because he’s coming too, breathing “Fuck, yes!” between clenched teeth as he pushes against my thighs and succumbs to his violent release.

  He surrenders my trapped legs and for a moment, as we lie limp and spent, the only sounds are our breathing and the rhythmic whir of the ceiling fan. Through the patio doors I can still see the fireflies as they continue with their mating ritual.

  Lifting his head, Shane glides a hand through his hair to brush it back, then slips out of me and reaches down to remove the condom. “Hey there,” he says, smiling at me.

  “Hi.” I smile back, almost shyly.

  “Fancy meeting you here.”

  I laugh softly as he nuzzles my neck.

  “Do you have any idea what an amazing woman you are?” he murmurs against my throat.

  I want to tell him the feeling is mutual, that I've never in my life met anyone quite like him, but I don't dare. It's far too soon. The last thing I want to do is give him false illusions of something more permanent.

  I learned that lesson the hard way.

  But my mouth clearly isn't listening to my head, because I surprise myself by saying, “You're pretty amazing yourself.”

  “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

  “No. Not at all.” I'll probably be sore tomorrow, but I can't say it wasn't worth it.

  “I may have gotten a little carried away. Sorry if I was too rough with you.”

  “You weren’t.” A warm blush creeps across my cheeks. “I mean...I liked it.”

  “Mm. I could tell.” Taking my hands, he pulls until I’m sitting upright. Then he’s gathering up his clothes from the floor, asking, “So, Felony. Same time tomorrow?”

  Is that supposed to be a joke? Well, he does have a weird sense of humor so I’ll take it as such. “Sounds like a plan. How about I check my calendar app and get back to you with an appointment time?”

  “How about you reserve the next couple of days expressly for me?” Dropping the pile of clothes on the bed beside me, he retrieves those sexy black jockeys and steps back into them. “Considering I have you as a captive audience anyway.”

  “Well, I suppose I could think of worse ways to pass the time.” Leaning back on my elbows, I grin playfully.

  “So you’re saying it was better than a root canal, hm?” Placing one hand on my knee, he bends down to kiss my forehead. “Would you like me to tuck you in?”

  “Actually I need to make a trip to the bathroom first.”

  “All right then. I’ll let you have some privacy.” Scooping up his clothes, he saunters off in the direction of the bedroom door. “Good night. Sleep well.”

  My smile fades. “Where are you going?”

  He turns his head to give me a blank look. “I’m going to bed. Why?”

  Is he serious? “You…um, well, you could sleep in here, you know. With me.”

  His hand on the doorknob, he hesitates for a moment before gently reminding me, “This was just sex, Melanie. Nothing more. Remember?”

  I stare at him, speechless, as my own words are thrown right back in my face.

  “Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  My lips part in stupefied silence as the door closes behind him. Well. I guess I asked for that one, didn’t I? Talk about a record case of wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am. My gosh, he didn’t even stick around long enough for the bed to cool off. Would it have killed him to cuddle with me for a few minutes? Or maybe just sit and talk for a while?

  It occurs to me that maybe he really is mad about what I said, and this is his way of retaliating.

  I shouldn’t feel hurt by his brushoff but dammit, it bothers me just the same.

  Sighing to myself, I get to my feet and start collecting my own discarded clothing. I tell myself it’s better this way. If he isn’t emotionally tied to me, then nothing can go wrong. It’s just a few days of fun with all the rules spelled out in advance. He won’t expect more from me than I’m willing to give.

  He won’t stalk me.

  Won’t harass, threaten or chase me.

  Won’t show up at my house with a loaded gun and bad intentions.

  I have to remind myself that it’s all for the best. No strings attached means no strings to bind me.

  Nobody can get hurt this way. It’s fool-proof.

  It’s just sex, after all.

  Right?

  ~ Chapter Fourteen ~

  It's almost ten o’clock before I finally drag my grouchy ass out of bed and stumble into the bathroom to take a shower. I didn't sleep worth a shit. Normally sex is a surefire sedative, but that definitely wasn't the case last night. I must have tossed and turned for hours, trying to talk myself out of revisiting Melanie’s room and spending the rest of the night making sure she didn’t get any sleep either.

  Damn my stubborn pride. I admit, I left too soon. Once with her wasn't nearly enough, and the raging boner that reared its head – no pun intended – fifteen minutes after I crawled between the sheets was proof of that.

  But what else was I supposed to do? I don't know what she's trying to pull, but she can't have her goddamn cream-filled Twinkies and eat them too. Did she really expect me to hang around and keep her company after her little this-is-just-sex speech?

  Maybe she thought I would appreciate her honesty. Yeah, and maybe I would too, if for one second I was willing to buy it. Let’s get real. With women, there is no such thing as just sex. She didn't come up with that crap out of some noble desire to prevent any misunderstandings from cropping up later. It's her own ass she's trying to cover. I'm not stupid enough to believe she's actually worried about what I think.

  So what’s her story, anyway?

  Is she still under the impression that I'm not good enough for her? Wouldn’t surprise me. I wonder what it is she recalls when she looks at me. Is it still the trashy smartmouth kid with the Goodwill clothes and laughable grades? I did everything I could to overcome that image after things at home improved. After Mom decided she'd finally had enough of supporting that deadbeat alcoholic and sent his sorry ass packing.

  Best decision she ever made, if you ask me.

  As far as I’m concerned, Parnell Becker never existed.

  I open the curtains and gaze outside at the gray clouds skimming across a dark, mottled sky. The wind is really kicking up out there and it looks like the bottom could fall out any minute. I had hoped for a cup of coffee first but from the looks of things, that’ll have to wait. I need to go ahead and secure the house before it starts raining.

  It doesn’t take that long to go around closing and locking the accordion shutters on the windows and patio doors. Still, by the time I come back inside the aroma of sizzling bacon is already permeating the air. Melanie’s up, apparently. The racket from the aluminum shutters clattering along their tracks probably woke her. I wonder if she slept better than I did.

  I fucking hope not.

  I walk into the kitchen to find her hovering over the stove in nothing but a white satin robe, and my dick springs to life as my eyes are drawn to her perky round bottom. It kinda wiggles back and forth as she whisks something in a bowl. Damn, breakfast and a show – how lucky can a guy get? What a glorious vision to start the day with.

  She turns her face to give me a brief smile before returning her attention to what I assume is pancake batter. There’s a box of Bisquick on the counter. “Good morning.”

  “Morning, pretty lady.” Sidling up beside her, I peer into the bowl. “What is that, blueberry pancakes? Hope you’re making enough for two. I could eat a horse.”

  “Oh, gee, that’s a shame. Unfortunately there aren’t a lot of recipes for horse floating aroun
d on the internet, so I hope bacon and pancakes will suffice.” She bumps me playfully with her hip.

  I grin at her silliness. “Well. Someone’s in a good mood.”

  “Sorry.” Scowling, she announces in a deep voice, “There. Now I’m Spongebob Seriouspants. Is this better?”

  “Not really. Now you just look insane.”

  “Hey! Don’t lump me in with you, pal.”

  “For your sake, I hope you’re not that crazy.” She is so damn cute, I can’t help but give that tempting rear end a good firm pinch. Her yelp of surprise is ear-piercingly shrill. Before I have a chance to duck, she slings the whisk at me and I wind up with pancake batter on my face and in my hair.

  Standing very still, I wipe batter from my eyelid and gaze at her with what I hope is a deadpan expression. “Okay then. That was nice. I always wanted a blueberry facial. Thank you very much for that. I hope you’re happy, now I have to take another shower.”

  Pressing her lips together, she widens her eyes innocently. “That’s not all.”

  “That’s not all?” I’m not sure what she means.

  “Nope.” Dipping her hand into the bowl, she scoops out a glop of batter and smears it across my shirt. “You also have to do laundry.”

  My mouth falls open, but even in my astonishment I can’t hold back a laugh. “You little witch!” I make a grab for the bowl but she sees it coming and has it clenched in a death grip, so soon we’re engaged in a tug-of-war.

  “No! No! Let go!” she shrieks between giggles.

  “If you insist.” Abruptly I let go and let physics handle the rest. Now she has a sticky mess all over the front of her robe as well, and the bowl is bouncing across the kitchen tile, scattering blobs of pancake batter all over. We’re both scrambling to get to it first, wrestling with one another, and when I fall on my knees she leaps onto my back, squealing in my ear.

  “Nooooo! No you don’t! Give it back! Gimme, it’s mine!” Reaching over my shoulder, she swipes her hand into the bowl that I’ve secured and rubs the contents messily into my hair. “Ooh! Your hair is so squeaky clean! Tell me sir, what is your secret?”

  By now I’m laughing so hard I have tears in my eyes. Scraping what’s left of the batter out of the bowl, I reach behind me and splatter it on top of her head. “Flour, milk, eggs and blueberries. It’s a trade secret of all the best salons. Here, have a free sample.”