He gave me a slow, sultry Eskimo kiss. He pressed his hips into my stomach, and I felt him hard against me, right through my jeans and his pants. I want this man. I need this man. “I think we should get the fuck out of here, Stella.” His voice was gruff and gravelly, dripping with desire and dominance and I know exactly what I’m going to do to you next. He raised his face from mine an inch. “I’m gonna take you back to my place and rock your fucking world.”
I made a little muffled squeak. He was pure testosterone. One hundred percent manly confidence. My moans were not my own with him so close. But then he got even closer. And closer, and closer. His stubble scratched my cheek and made a faint noise like sandpaper touching a soft piece of pine. Gently, he traced the edge of my ear with his tongue, making me shiver. Making me quiver. Making me absolutely helpless, because there was a lot I could resist, but a man who looked like him, doing my favorite thing to my ear? “Yesssssss.”
“You get the apples. I’ll get the beer,” he said.
I ran my hands in a V down his back, which was when I remembered: the shop door, the oxygen compressor, the Advil. “You’re sure your back’s not hurting?”
He growled again and tugged on my earlobe with his teeth. “The only thing I’m hurting to do right now is you.”
We hustled to the parking lot hand in hand, ducking below the projector’s beam. When we got to his bike, he yanked me into him so our bodies collided and a breath left my lungs with a whoosh.
“This is how it’s gonna be,” he said, zipping up his too-big motorcycle jacket on me and sliding his hands into my back pockets to pull my hips into his body. “I’m gonna drive you back to my place. I’m gonna take you like you deserve to be taken. Every second from now until you fall asleep in my arms is going to be me, doing my thing to you, and making your eyes roll back in your head again and again.”
Dear God: It’s me, Stella. Thank you. So, so much.
He slipped the helmet over my head. I flipped up the visor so I didn’t miss even a half-second glimpse of him. He slung his leg over the bike and looked back over his shoulder, waiting for me. I did the same, pressing my knees into him like I did before. Only now I really meant it. Now I wanted him in a way that I hadn’t planned on at all, or that I’d been much too shy to show him earlier. Now I was pretty sure my panties were already soaked, and we hadn’t done anything more than kiss.
The inside of the helmet smelled like him, rich and manly. Soap and cologne and musk.
He reached back and gripped my tush tight. “You on?”
Swoon. “Yep,” I said, and linked my arms over his chest. The engine shuddered to life underneath us, as loud as a lawn mower, only much deeper and more aggressive. He did something with the handlebars, and the engine roared. The movement made his triceps flex, illuminated by the streetlamp. Way down deep in my body was a desire so intense that it felt like a chill. I slid my right hand down his stomach. I’d always thought the idea of washboard abs was ridiculous. But not anymore.
At first, I kept my fingers on the outside of his jeans, pressing into his belt. In the side mirror, I saw him smile—a greedy aww yeah kind of a smile that he didn’t know I could see. Studying his expression, I moved my fingers an inch, placing them against the skin of his lower abdomen and his boxers. The look in his eyes went from aww yeah to hell yes in an instant, and together we sped down the empty streets under the clear desert sky, the whinny of the engine making a long, wonderful squeal that sounded a lot like Ouuuuuuuuuiiiiiii.
6
NICK
At my apartment building, I pulled into my usual parking spot, cut the engine, and gave Stella a couple of come on fingers in the air to show her I wanted that helmet off so I could see her pretty face again. She tugged it off and handed it over, pressing her chin into my shoulder, close enough for me to feel her curls brush against my ear. Her big, gorgeous eyes appeared in the side mirror. I took the hand she’d placed on my chest and gave her a long kiss on the palm. It was a crazy thing, wanting her so bad it hurt, but also being pretty content with that moment too, parked in the dark with her hanging on to me. Quiet, peaceful. Calm. But I wasn’t going to be calm for long.
I gave her left thigh a squeeze to tell her to pull that leg off first and she did, and I did the same. I put my keys in my pocket and turned to her. Her eyes were wide again, innocent almost. No pretense, no bullshit. I could tell she was nervous. Placing my thumb to her jaw, I tilted her face up. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”
She sucked in a quick breath and gripped my forearm. Her fingers didn’t even come close to encircling it. Hooking one finger into her belt loop, I spun her around and pulled her into me, ass first, so I was almost spooning her right there by my bike. I inhaled the scent of her hair and got familiar with the shape of her curves against my body. She really was so damned beautiful, classically beautiful, the kind of woman who would inspire a guy to learn to paint so that he’d never forget her.
But I was no painter. I was an alpha male, and I was gonna make her know it. Staying right behind her, chest-to-back, I walked her forward. I maneuvered her past a minivan and up against the stucco wall of my apartment building. I was careful to keep her under the cover of shadows. I swept her hair off the nape of her neck, gently placing it in front of her right shoulder, then hooked my arm around her waist to keep her in position. With my other hand, I positioned her palms on the wall. Using one of my feet, I parted her legs so they were a foot and a half apart. Frisking position.
“What are you doing?” she said, her voice wet with desire.
I didn’t want to spook her, so I kept my tone playful. “I’m arresting you on the charge of being too damn sexy,” I said as I ran my hands down her stomach. Curvy and soft and feminine. Exactly how I’d hoped it would be. I’d touched my share of bodies, but that skin of hers . . . that was the skin I’d been hoping to feel every goddamned time.
She let her head fall forward and turned her feet slightly, toes in. I ran my stubble down the side of her throat and back up again, where I slid my tongue along the shell of her ear, and she shuddered. “Anything you do or say now can and will be used against you . . . in bed.”
She made a low purring growl. “Is that so, Officer?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, dark and dirty into her ear. “If you don’t have a blindfold, one will be provided for you.”
“Oh God,” she gasped, not laughing anymore. That was how I wanted her. Serious. Focused. Ready to be mine, all mine.
I ran my fingers up the inside seam of her jeans, against the soft fabric that I’d been thinking about all afternoon. I imagined her panties, wet and hot, between her legs. That triangle of cotton, damp with her wetness already. Fuck yeah. I pressed my fingers against the teeth of her fly and gave her pussy a squeeze from outside. With my other hand, I hooked my thumb over her waistband. Underneath, I felt it. Lace. I moved my hand along her hip, and the lace rolled up into a rope in my palm.
“You’ve got the right to at least three orgasms,” I said. “Those will be provided for you.”
“Oh Lord,” she groaned.
“Do you understand your rights?” I tugged on her panties and let the lace go with a snap. I gave her throat a bite. Gentle, but firm. She inhaled hard, surprised and startled. Off balance. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.” I stopped the frisk and stepped back. She turned and looked up at me, and I kissed her until she was against the stucco wall. And then I took her hand in mine and led her up to my place.
I scooped her up onto the kitchen counter and kissed the shit out of her, kissed her so hard that she had to hang on to the paper towel rod for support. Sometimes she let me overpower her; she’d let me show the way. But as fast as I’d taken over, she’d take over from me, getting grabby and greedy and digging her fingers into wherever she happened to be touching me as she sank in deep. I’d take over again, then she would. I’d bite her lip, she’d nip my tongue. Back and forth. Offense and defense. Her and me. As I ki
ssed her, I hoped she fucked the way she kissed.
“If I didn’t want to fuck you so bad, I’d kiss you all goddamned night.” I dragged her closer with my palms on her ass.
“If I didn’t want you to fuck me so bad, I’d say that was just fine,” she answered.
Holy shit. All that sweetness was falling away, and something else was showing in the center. The fire in her eyes was raw desire. She knew what she wanted, and I was going to take her there.
So I kissed her until she was grinding against me as hard as I was grinding against her. As we kissed, she toed off her sneakers and kicked them aside. I anchored the heel of one of my boots under the toe and moved to pull it off. But she stopped kissing me and pushed me away hard. Hard enough to make me back away from her, so I was standing in the middle of the kitchen, two feet away from her now. We were like two boxers, stepping back before squaring up again. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve. She slid off the counter so she was standing barefoot in front of the sink, with her jeans unbuttoned and her T-shirt off one shoulder. Automatically I reached for her, but she flipped the tables on me, and before I knew it, I was the one leaning against the counter, with the fake granite edge digging into my ass.
Without breaking my stare, she lowered herself down in front of me, clawing the outside of my jeans with her fingernails, hard enough for me to feel the scratches on my thighs. Down, down, down she went. Until she was on her knees at my feet.
“Fuck, Stella . . .”
I held her hair back from her face to get a better view of that fresh pink rosiness of her cheeks that was getting more and more intense with every passing second.
She bit the front of my belt, working the leather slowly free from the buckle. She did it so deliberately, so carefully, that it made my balls ache. The leather end slid out from my belt loops, and she sat back on her heels. She took the buckle in her mouth to get my belt undone all the way. It clattered, the metal against her teeth, like a horse taking a bit.
Every single fiber in my body wanted to pick her up and haul her fireman style into the bedroom. I wanted to drop her on the bed and ravage her. I wanted to get her on her knees in front of me and give her everything I had. I wanted to get her underneath me and growl about how beautiful she was as she came. Because I knew no matter how she came, there was no question that she’d be perfection when she was lost.
The ferocity in her eyes told me she wouldn’t whimper, because lionesses don’t. Lionesses roar, and I wanted to be the one to unleash her like she’d never been unleashed before. I wanted to fuck her until the neighbors complained. I wanted to drive into her until she begged me to stop. Until it felt so good she told me to wait, wait, wait.
But when I started to pull her up, she grabbed my hands to stop me. She leaned in again, taking the edge of the buttonhole of my jeans between her teeth. She freed the fabric from the metal fastener and looked up at me. “This is how it’s gonna be . . .” she said, with her chin against my fly. Her voice was like mine had been when I told her the same thing. I could tell, by the look in her eyes and the grit in her tone, she wasn’t fucking playing. Neither was I. I didn’t want to play with her. I wanted to undo her completely.
I swallowed hard and watched her. My heart pounded in my chest, in my throat. In my cock. Everywhere. Because goddamn did I need this. “You. Me. Bed. Right fucking now.”
She nuzzled a no into my hard-on from outside my pants. Her eyes fluttered shut as she increased the pressure, driving her cheekbone into the sensitive underside, compressing the shaft and pressing against my balls with her chin. Using her tongue, she traced around the outline of my cock, paying special attention to the ridge and the head.
Looking up again, she kept her eyes right on mine, as if to make sure I was watching. She licked her lips. She opened her mouth, and then she took my pants-clad shaft between her teeth and very lightly . . .
. . . bit down on my cock.
Holy mother of fucks.
The rush of need for her was so intense I almost threw her off me. No woman had ever been so ballsy as this. The desire in that bite was louder than ten thousand pleases. It felt incredible. Her teeth put the right pressure in all the right places, doing exactly the thing I never knew I needed. “Goddamn it,” I growled, and let my head fall back so I was looking up at the ceiling.
She did it again, lower down the shaft. It sent a surge of fire through my spine, a need so furious it felt almost like anger. Again and again she bit me, again and again she made me growl, until all up and down my cock were rows of wet bite marks, half moons on my pants. “I need to get inside you, Stella. Don’t make me wait.” She didn’t answer with words; instead, she took the metal zipper between her teeth and lowered her chin to undo my fly.
That was it. I was ready to tap out. Nothing would ever be hotter than that.
She licked up the underside of the shaft, and while she had me distracted, she positioned my hands on the counter, keeping them wide on either side of me. “Those stay there. We clear?”
Fuck. “Anything you say.”
She pressed her knees together, and from above I watched her toes curl. “Touch me and I’ll stop,” she said, and licked a long, wet line up the left side of the shaft, encircled the head, went back down again.
It wasn’t going to be easy. Everything about her screamed, Touch my body. That soft, pretty hair was begging me to tuck it behind her ears. That pretty mouth was calling out for me to put my thumb to those lips. That perfect body was beckoning me to have my way with every inch of it.
But I didn’t do it. She had me, literally, by the balls. And as she took me deep into her throat, I knew this alpha male was about to follow a woman’s lead for the first time in his motherfucking life.
7
STELLA
I loved feeling him get harder and harder in my mouth. I loved knowing I was making him throb. I loved hearing his breathing quicken and watching the muscles in his neck tense and tighten. I loved being in control of this big beast of a man, with his tats and his boots and his brawn.
He was gripping the edge of the countertop so hard, though, that I had a feeling if I kept on going, he might pull the laminate right off the counter. Maybe even the plywood too. “Fuck, Stella,” he growled up at the ceiling. “Fuck.”
To hell with the countertop, though. He was what I wanted to ruin. Cheap kitchens could be repaired. So I went back down to the base and teased his balls, lingering at the spot where they met the shaft. I gripped his buns hard, like I was kneading dough. I wanted to sink my teeth into his thighs. I wanted to nibble every freaking inch of him. He was that kind of delicious. Sexy enough to make my mouth actually water.
As I worked on him, I was careful to observe all his reactions. Like new terrain, a new language, I was reading him and learning him. When I kissed and licked and sucked, and eventually drew his left ball into my mouth, he let go of the counter and smacked the surface with his clenched fist, sucking in a breath through his nose. He knotted his fingers in my hair and pulled me away from him, making his ball leave my mouth with a pop.
He let go of my hair and put his fist to his mouth, watching me over the ridge of his knuckles. “Holy shit, what is going on . . .”
The idea that I’d gotten him close already made me feel even more powerful. To give him a break, I tugged his pants down his ass a bit more to get a better angle. I hooked my fingers over the back of his waistband and pulled them down, boxers too, and dug my nails into his buns. Hard. Not a tease, not a joke, but a good raking scratch that I hoped would leave a row of welts. He gritted his teeth and let out a long, dirty, “Fuuuuuuck.” His fingers moved toward my hair, to move my bangs aside maybe, but I was running this show. Me. Just me. So I hit him with a piercing stare and shook my head. His cock was in my mouth again, and the side-to-side movement made his eyes roll back in his head.
He put his knuckles to his lips and growled, “We need to fuck, and we need to fuck now.”
Deeper. And deeper. I didn’t l
et up, not for an instant. He groaned and moaned and inhaled hard, but didn’t exhale for a count of ten, like it felt so good he’d forgotten how to breathe.
God, it was empowering. I closed my eyes and held the base with both hands. Using the flat, wide part of my tongue, I flicked it along the underside. Then I moved up to the tip and teased the opening very gently. As soon as I did, his knees buckled against my shoulders.
He looked down at me, glassy-eyed. He was intense and driven and focused. And then he put his massive hands on my shoulders and pushed me back, making his cock leave my mouth. He perched my chin on his finger and raised my jaw half an inch. “The first time you make me come, it isn’t gonna be a blowjob in my kitchen, Stella.” Before I could say a thing, he’d hoisted me over his shoulder. And in a handful of strides, I was flying through the air and landing on his mattress, the room full of my squeals.
8
NICK
I put a pillow under her head and switched on the bedside lamp. Lights on wasn’t my usual MO, but somehow, I just knew she was going to be different. I wanted to see her, remember every last expression, every last writhe—I wanted to lock it into my memory, like the blueprint to a safe.
Her hair pooled behind her, mermaid-style, and her T-shirt had come up on her stomach a few inches, enough to show a cute little belly button, unpierced. I planted my hands on either side of her and kissed it, running my tongue around the edge and making her dig her fingers into the muscles of my arms. “Know what I like about you?” I asked, then got back to it, going counterclockwise now.
“Ummm . . .” she said, making her stomach vibrate slightly against my lips. “My incredible taste in desserts.”
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