There's Something About Her, A Manhattan Love Story (LOVE in the USA, #2)

by Z. L. Arkadie

  I’m still feeling bold, but it’s dwindling fast. I shrug. “Your bed possibly.” There. I said it.

  “How soon can I take you to my bed?”

  Panic sets in. This is happening for real. “As soon as you like.”

  Vincent takes my fork and drops it on the plate. Then he lifts me off the stool. I wrap my legs around his waist. He shifts the crotch of my panties. One. Two. Three. I gasp.

  He fills me up. We stare into each other’s eyes as he gently shifts my hips against his crotch. I feel every centimeter of his rock-hard penis. My lips part, I release a long, warm breath, and he plants a soft kiss on my lips. We don’t break eye contact. Our lips and tongue merely tease each other.

  Vincent thrusts deeper inside me to carry me out of the kitchen. The walls change around me. Our eyes are still connected. I wonder what he’s thinking. I’m thinking that I could fall in love with him, which is bad because I can’t. It’s too inconvenient.

  “This is just sex.”

  “Is it?” he whispers.

  I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud. I close my eyes and nod. I can’t say the yes, because deep down, that’s not the answer I want to be our reality.

  I open my eyes. He’s taken me to another room with more snow-coated glass walls. I feel as though the house has been buried under ice. Vincent stops squeezing my breast to press a button on the wall. A dim light replaces the bright one. He spreads me on top of a large round sofa in the center of the room. Finally, he has me on my back. His lips dive in for a deep kiss.

  Vincent has a method to his madness. His every thrust elicits a tingling sensation. I moan and bite my bottom lip. I hate that he knows what the hell he’s doing. He’s just making me want more.

  “I’m taking off this shirt,” he whispers.

  My arms go up, and he tugs it over my head. He greedily sucks on my nipple. Umm... His mouth feels so damn soft and hot. I’m in sex heaven.

  I lift my hips to meet his. “Oh...” I cry out. I’m on the verge of experiencing that legendary vaginal orgasm. I open my eyes just to see if it’s actually Vincent Adams who’s taking me to the land of sexual euphoria.

  He lifts his ass and shoves his penis upward and to the left. He holds it there.

  “Oh, God!” I cry. The tingling builds, and builds, and erupts into a robust orgasm. He holds me against him as I quiver.

  “Shit, Maggie,” he whispers as my insides quicken around his dick. “I love…”

  He goes right into pounding me hard but not hard enough. I want him to break through me. We’re kissing greedily, panting and biting. Vincent, please consume me.

  He whimpers and then stabs me with his rigidness. He ropes his arms around my neck. Our skin is pasted together. Vincent grunts and trembles. I can’t believe he’s taking pleasure in my body.

  “Oh!” he shouts. His voice is like a sweet explosion.

  Our hearts are beating fast. Our skin is glazed with sweat. He’s still inside of me.

  “I can’t believe I fucked my boss.” I chuckle.

  “Oh, I’m not done fucking you yet.”

  I smile. I’m glad we’re not done. “I want to tell you something.”

  “You can tell me anything.”

  “You just gave me my first vaginal orgasm ever.”

  He reaches around to pat himself on the back, and I laugh. “I knew I had it right, but you’re quiet when you make love. Why is that?”

  “I don’t know why.”

  “It’s hard to figure out if I’m pleasing you or not.”

  “Oh, you pleased me.”

  The admission makes him kiss me. “Are you having sex with anyone else?” he asks after coming up for air.

  “No. Why?”

  “We didn’t use protection.”

  “Oh, I see. No, I haven’t had sex in two years. I think. Probably three or two and a half.”

  “That can’t be true,” he says.

  “It’s true.”

  “Your body is made for fucking.”

  I roll my eyes a little. “That’s a joke, right?”

  “You have two perfectly round ass cheeks. Your tits are real and bouncy.” To show me what he means, he takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks so hard I can hear it. “I hate that fake shit.”

  “Well, thank you for liking my body.” I’m being patronizing. “But tits and ass don’t make someone fuckable.”

  “I don’t like your body, Maggie. I love it. We’ve got more rounds to go.” He picks me up off the sofa while he’s still inside of me. “And Maggie?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t worry about getting pregnant. I’ve had a vasectomy. Is that a deal breaker?”

  “For me or your girlfriend?” I wish I could take that back.

  “For you,” he says right before melting his mouth onto mine. He sure knows how to dodge an uncomfortable subject.

  My head is floating. “No, not at all,” I reply.

  He doesn’t miss a beat as he walks me up the staircase. He takes me into my bedroom and spreads me on top of the bed. He carefully takes his penis out of me.

  I flip on my stomach when he goes into the bathroom. I caution myself yet again not to fall in love with Vincent. He comes out of the bathroom quietly enough that I don’t hear him. Then he straddles me and massages my ass.

  “I just want to eat it up and eat you out,” he says.

  He parts my butt cheeks, and a hot, wet tongue slides down the middle. I grab the pillow when he nails me in the hole.

  “That pleases you?” His sexy question becomes an erotic stimulant.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  Hands to hips, and I’m flipped over onto my back. Vincent’s eyes are possessed by fiery passion, but his rigid penis steals the show. It’s a beautiful thing to behold. I want to put it in my mouth, but just like outside of the bedroom, he’s the boss. He takes a long breath between his teeth. He’s so turned on, and I’m doing it to him, which is mind-boggling. His face comes toward my pussy. He drapes my legs over his shoulders.

  The anticipation is frightening. What we did downstairs was quick and thoughtless. It could easily be forgiven and forgotten. As soon as his mouth makes contact with my pussy, I’m aware that there will be no turning back.

  Vincent doesn’t go straight for the clit. He draws one lip of my labia into the concaves of his wet mouth and rolls his tongue around the puffy flesh. He gives the other side the same attention. Then he slips enough fingers inside me to make me feel it.

  “Shit, you’re dripping wet.” He sounds surprised.

  I crane my neck to look down at him. That’s when he goes for the big C. I flip my head back and moan. He makes an immediate impact. How the hell is he doing that?

  He’s gripping my ass so I can’t yank my clit out of his mouth. I’ve gone from two to ten in less than two seconds. I whimper like a starving puppy. I grab his hair and hold on. His tongue digs and digs deeper. His mouth isn’t all over the damn place; Vincent knows how to focus his efforts. He wants to hear me, so I part my lips and cry on climax.

  As a reward, Vincent shifts his tongue to an undisturbed part of my clit and starts from the top. He finger-bangs me like a jackhammer while he’s at it. I’m making sounds I’ve never heard come out of myself. He can certainly multi-task.

  I shout his name. He deserves it. When I come, my entire lower half trembles. I’m whiting out and screaming. He jams his dick inside of me before I settle down. My legs are still over his shoulders. His beautiful dick is the right length and girth. His strokes enhance the residual orgasmic sensations inside of me. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the air.

  “Look at me,” he demands.

  I open my eyes to connect with a gaze that takes my breath away. In this moment, it’s him and me. My job, his girlfriend, our risky decision doesn’t exist. Shit, I’ve gone too far.

  Vincent crushes his lips on mine and grunts in my mouth when he comes.

  Firelight sets the mood. I can’t hea
r the storm anymore. For a moment, I wonder if it’s passed. Vincent rolls me on top of his naked body and embraces me. I scoot down to listen to his heart. I’ve had sex with thirteen guys, and this is the first time it was with someone who knows what the hell he’s doing.

  “That was better than the fantasy,” he says.

  I snuggle closer. “Oh, well, you did all the work.”

  “That’s because you’re inspiring.”

  I want to kiss his bare chest and pretend we belong to each other. Instead, I sigh and roll over on my back. “What time do we fly out?”

  Vincent flips onto his side and draws me into him. He spoons me, fondling my nipples. “You’re stuck with me for two more days.” He bumps his boner against my ass. “And nights.”

  I twist around to look at him. “But we have to get back.”

  “It’s a three-day storm.”

  “How do you know? Have you checked the weather report?”

  “Yes, I have,” he says.

  I narrow one eye. “Did you know about the storm before you flew us out here?”

  He smirks. “You sound suspicious.”

  “That’s because I am.”

  “Let’s just say I wanted to make this moment happen, and I did.”

  I sigh. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”

  “Why not, baby?”

  I massage my forehead, trying to rub the tension out of it. I must remember what’s really going on. This won’t lead to love, marriage, and a baby carriage, especially since he’s had a vasectomy.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asks.

  “Nothing. Forget it.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Don’t call me ‘baby’ anymore. It’s confusing.”

  “It’s not confusing to me. Don’t think this is going to mess up our working relationship. It’s only going to make it better.”

  “Tsk. How is that?”

  “I’ll tell you later. First, I want to know everything about you. What do you do on the weekends?”

  “Huh?” That’s the craziest question he could ask at this moment.

  “I want to know what you do on the weekends.”

  I sigh. “Really?”

  “Do I have to ask a third time?”

  “No…” I roll my eyes. “I don’t know. I have three socially active girlfriends, so I always have something to do.”

  He shifts my hair so he can kiss my collarbone. “Like what?”

  “This party. That party. This gallery. That fashion show, or a store opening. Most weekends we just go out and have a good time.”

  “What’s a good time?”

  “We drink. We talk. We dance. Some Sundays we do hot dogs for breakfast in Washington Square.”

  “You haven’t met anyone while you were drinking, talking, and dancing?”

  “I leave that up to Hannah and Monroe. Guys fall at their feet. They’re twin supermodels. Actually, you might like them.”

  “But I like you.”

  “But you have a girlfriend who looks like a supermodel.”

  He remains silent.

  “I get it. You don’t want to talk about her while you’re fucking me. Well, I don’t want to talk about other guys while I’m fucking you.”

  “That’s fair.”

  “I thought so.”

  He flips me onto my back and spreads my legs. “Then I should start fucking you.”

  I inhale when he jabs me with his hard-on. We lock lips. Our mouths fit and so do our bodies.

  “Damn, Vincent Adams, I love you right now.”

  “I love you too,” he whispers.

  Shit. I said that out loud.

  Chapter 9

  The Closer We Get

  The night fades to dawn. Vincent has been inside me so many times I can still feel him there. I stare out at the white nothingness beyond the window. Just as Vincent said, the storm isn’t over. The walls bang. The wind roars. The snow crashes. I can’t sleep even though I’m drained. My mind is too alive.

  When Vincent and I kiss, it’s as if we should’ve been doing it our whole lives. The faint sound of him snoring is intoxicating. Even as he sleeps, he can’t keep his hands off of me. He has a hand against my belly and an arm threaded between the pillow and my neck. I don’t understand his infatuation. It’s nonsensical.

  My eyelids are heavy. I scoot to the edge of the bed.

  Vincent stops snoring. “Are you awake?” He sounds drowsy.

  “I have to pee.”

  “Umm.” He sucks my nipple into his mouth.

  I hum. It feels so good.

  “Don’t be long.”

  I roll out of bed, and his gaze lingers on my body. “It only takes two minutes tops to pee.” I grin.

  He lifts the blanket to show off his new erection. “He can’t wait any longer than that.”

  I tilt my head. “Is that all you have for me?”

  He frowns, perplexed. I spin on my heels and let him chew on that.

  After I’m done relieving myself, I brush my teeth and study myself in the mirror. I have hickeys on both sides of my neck. Their appearance is like the eighth wonder of the world. I’ve never had them. Actually, I’ve been turning red a lot lately. I run my fingers across the red spots. I look ravaged. Surprisingly, my hair is still fluffy and sexy. I’ve never looked this good in my life.

  Vincent boosts himself up on his forearm when I step out of the bathroom. “I’ve been thinking about what you said,” he says.

  “What did I say?” I’m drawing a blank.

  “You asked if my dick is all I have for you.” He lifts the blanket. “Get in.”

  I narrow one eye suspiciously. “Boy” has gone down. I slide into the warm bed, and he snuggles up against my backside.

  “So what else are you going to give me besides my job?”

  He chuckles. “You must stop worrying about your job. If I fire you now, you can sue my ass for sexual harassment.”

  “And I will. If you make me.”

  “I’ve never gone back on a promise. Not to mention you kick ass at your job. When Jack asked me to consider you for the job, I said yes because I wanted to be near you.”

  “Which still shocks the hell out of me,” I interject.

  “You were smart in that economics class. You sat in the far right row, three chairs from the front.”

  “You remember that?”

  “You never said a word. You always looked as if you were bored. Then one day, Hanford asked you to explain supply-side economics. Everybody expected you to bomb.”

  “Yeah. I remember that,” I whisper with a chuckle.

  “You taught him a lesson and the rest of us too.”

  “I wondered why he asked me. I wasn’t part of his ass-kissing gang.”

  “Speaking of asses, you were kind of a bad ass.”

  “Who? Me?”

  “You used to wear those tight leather pants.”

  “Pleather, and they were called ‘stirrups.’”

  “Your ass in those pants…”

  “You know, I’ve heard that I have a nice ass, but I can’t see it.”

  “Boy” is back up and grinding me. “It’s nice. Damn perfect.” He squeezes both cheeks and sucks air between his teeth.

  I chuckle. “If you say so.”

  “You’re a natural blonde?”

  “Never used hair color in my life, although I’ve thought about going red.”

  “Blondes always bored me until you came to town.”

  “Happy I could get you excited about us again. I’m a blonde, but guys don’t generally see fun when they look at me. I’m the no-frills blonde.”

  “I disagree. You’re frills.”

  “Oh, then I’m no thrills.”

  “I’ve been getting a thrill out of you.”

  We laugh.

  “I’ve been getting a thrill out of you too.”

  Vincent thrills me some more. Our stomachs growl, but we keep going until noon. My cell phone rings, and his buzzes in the bedroom across the hall. We
decide to power them down.

  I stay in bed while Vincent warms up mushroom stroganoff crepes. He returns with a big plate of food, two forks, two glasses, and a bottle of red wine. We eat and drink while watching my favorite movie, Chinatown, starring Jack Nicholson. We watch it twice.

  “She’s my daughter.” He fake slaps me. “My sister.” He does it again. “My daughter…”

  We laugh, bouncing around on the bed like teenagers. I feel as if we’re still in high school.

  Vincent pins me to the mattress. “I’m ready to make love to you.”

  We kiss. Tender. Slow. Indulgent. We have all the time in the world. After all, we’re trapped in a snowstorm. I moan as our tongues pet each other.

  “You’re a quiet lover, and that makes you an honest lover,” he whispers.

  Vincent swirls his tongue around my shoulder. He lifts my arms and makes out with my armpits. I smell like sex. He sucks down the side of my breast until he nibbles on the nipple. I’m overly excited. My pussy is craving his penis, but he’s not even close to that part yet. His mouth tastes its way down past my stomach, down my leg until he sinks each one of my toes into his mouth. The warm softness of his tongue makes me moan.

  Vincent sinks his fingers inside of me. “You get so damn wet, baby.” He takes his perfect penis and rims it around the entrance of my vagina. “I’m going to give you this. How bad do you want it?”

  He’s talking dirty, toying with me. I’m supposed to respond, but I’ve never played that game before.

  “Say something, baby.”

  “I want it,” I say.

  “I don’t believe you. Do you want it or not?” He looks me in the eyes. Shit, he’s serious.

  The truth is I want it but not inside me. “I want to taste it.”

  He grins. “That’s better. You can do whatever the hell you want to it.”

  Vincent straddles me on his knees. I sit up, wrap my hand around his shaft, and sink his beautiful penis so deep into my mouth that it touches the back of my throat. My lips, my cheeks, and my tongue collapse around him. He goes crazy as I grab his ass and shift him in and out of my mouth, sucking the tip extra hard.

  “Oh, shit,” he whimpers.

  Vincent can only take it for so long. He pulls completely out of my mouth. He lays me back, throws my legs wide apart, grabs the headboard, and pounds me. Five strokes, and he shivers as he comes. As soon as his body stills, he flops on top of me.