by Bijou Hunter
“No,” Lottie says, pushing him toward the door. “Wait outside while I get rid of the last customers and then we’ll lock up and go to lunch.”
“Shouldn’t someone stay behind?” I ask, having never heard of a coffee shop that closes at lunch.
“No,” Lottie says. “We have a morning crew of customers and an afternoon group. I prefer they don’t mix, so help me kick these people out and we’ll go to lunch with our lover men.”
Keanu and Cap nod at each other, enjoying their new title. I hear them calling each other lover man before they eventually descend into literally kicking each other in the ass.
“They’ll always be like little kids when they’re together,” Lottie whispers while we collect coffee mugs and walk them into the kitchen while hipster twats shuffle toward the door. “I used to think they were immature, but it’s only when they’re together. Keanu acts like a grown man when it’s just him. I’d say they’re bad influences on each other, but look how happy they are tormenting each other.”
Cap tries to slap the back of Keanu’s head, but the smaller man ducks and flicks his giant friend’s ear.
Grinning at their display, I can’t shake the calm I feel here in the Kitchenette. I suspect it’s as close as I’ll ever get to the hipster bookstore I had in mind in Ellsberg. That place would have most definitely failed, but the Kitchenette bustled with business all morning.
“What’s the crowd like in the afternoon?” I ask Lottie.
“We get more foodie types. Once we get back from lunch, the chef for the day reveals what they’ll serve. The foodies will blog about it and try to out-dork each other with their descriptions.”
Scowling slightly, I’m leery about meeting the kind of people who blog about their lunches. Of course, I found the morning twits quite compelling. Occasionally, they’d have mini-meltdowns over their inabilities to pick the perfect word for their society-shattering novel. Every time I asked what the books were about, they said essentially the same thing—an author struggling to find his voice in a world incapable of understanding his/her genius. Yes, they were quite amusing.
Cap and Keanu are speaking Korean when Lottie and I join them outside on the sidewalk. I zip up my jacket yet still shiver in the cold breeze. Stepping behind Cap, I use his colossal body to block the chilly autumn winds.
“Are we cool with bacon for lunch?” Cap asks while reaching behind his back to take my hand.
“As long as we eat inside, I don’t care where you take me.”
“Bacon, it is,” Keanu says, throwing an arm around Lottie’s shoulders. “Cap, walk ahead of us so you can block the wind.”
“Done,” Cap says, still holding my hand.
As much as I prefer not to be beaten down by the increasingly violent winds, I hate walking behind Cap. Wanting to be able to look up and see his sexy face, I hurry to his side and tighten my grip on his hand.
“Just in case I start to blow away.”
“I’ll never let you go,” he says, wearing a divine smile.
“I believe you won’t.”
Cap’s smile grows, and I think I might hurt my cheeks from grinning so widely. I just can’t help looking like a fool in love. Today feels like the first day of the rest of my life, and it’s been fucking perfection.
CAP
I’ve never been interested in tatting up my body. A biker without a club, my uncle Moot is tatted from neck to ankles, and Keanu’s stepdad is a walking piece of art. Dad has a few smaller tats including “Candy” over his heart that Mom teases the fuck out of him about. So while I’m not against inking my body, I’ve never had anything I wanted to look at for the rest of my life.
Audrey comes from a different lifestyle where tat-less men are pussies and proving your love means marking your body with the other person’s name. Cooper Johansson has a tat on his wrist of Farah’s name followed by their children’s. I hadn’t thought much of the tattoo when I saw it in passing. Dad, though, drops a little knowledge on me when we run into each other in the kitchen during Audrey’s second night at the house.
“She’s sleeping,” I say when he asks about her.
“In your room?”
“Of course.”
“Be careful with that. You have no idea what she’s like when on the rag. The girl might go psycho and need her space.”
“Then she can go hang out in her room.”
Dad smiles at my tone. “So she’s the one, huh?”
“Yep.”
“How certain are you? Like on a scale of one to ten.”
“Ten with the pedal down.”
“Fine, then you’ll want to get her name on your wrist.”
“I’m not her dad, and I’m not sure I want her thinking of him when we’re together.”
“Johansson didn’t come up with that tattoo himself. He copied his father. His brother copied Kirk Johansson too. The men who married the Johansson sisters also copied the name tat. It’s their way of saying the broad in their bed is permanent.”
I look at my wrist. “Is this a real thing or are you trying to get me to do something stupid?”
Dad fights a grin. “Wouldn’t be the first time I pranked you.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” I grumble, thinking of the time he talked me into a buzz cut that made my head look too small for my fucking body.
Dad likely remembers that same incident because he chuckles. “Never saw such an ugly angel.”
“It was hilarious.”
“Yes, it was, but the tat thing isn’t a prank,” he says and finishes his apple cider. “I know Johansson is tantruming over you stealing his baby. He thought marrying her off would be so fucking easy because the older one almost got hitched. You’re not that dentist, though. I just think he and his family might take you more seriously if you showed respect for their stupid fucking traditions.”
“It is stupid,” I say as he nods and starts to leave. “Real men tat their wives’ names on their chest.”
Dad stops, refuses to look back at me, and then begins walking again. Grinning, I watch him disappear into his room.
Despite still worrying the tat story is a prank, I get one while Audrey’s at work. Keanu demands to join me so he can mock any signs of pain I reveal.
“I think I can handle six fucking letters,” I tell him while we wait at the tattoo shop.
His black eyes shining, he smirks. “Prove it.”
An hour later, I admire Audrey’s name on my flesh. I’m also very relieved her parents didn’t name her something stupid like Cricket. That’s not a word I want to be inked on my body. In fact, I should probably mention that fact to my sister the next time I see her. She’s been feeling way too cocky lately.
“Should I get Lottie’s name tatted on my body?” Keanu asks after we leave.
“Only if it’s a tramp stamp.”
“Dude, I already have your name with an arrow pointing downward.”
Flexing my fist, I grumble, “This is why people think we’re boyfriends.”
“No, the way you stare at me in awe is why they think we’re boyfriends. My indifference to you is why they think we won’t last.”
“You’re a funny little fucker, Short Round.”
“And you flinched so much during the tattoo that I nearly handed you the tissue box.”
“I didn’t flinch,” I growl in my most threatening tone.
Keanu doesn’t even pretend to fear me. “Whimpered too.”
“Bullshit.”
“Well, whatever. I just know the version of the story I’m telling.”
Keanu isn’t kidding. The moment Lottie appears from the restaurant after her shift, he spins a tale of a sobbing giant and his good buddy who wiped away the tears. She laughs at me, but I tell them both to shut the fuck up so I can surprise Audrey.
I wait outside the Kitchenette, wishing I could blow on my tender wrist. Despite Keanu and Lottie having walked away, I worry he might be still hiding nearby. If I show pain, he might jump out and mock me. O
r take a picture to send to my family. Hell, it’s exactly what I would do if our roles were reversed.
Audrey walks out of the Kitchenette and shivers violently. She really isn’t a fan of the cold. I’d offer to stick her inside my jacket and lug her around like she’s a baby except I doubt she’d agree.
“You don’t even want to know what they’re serving today,” Audrey says immediately and glances around before whispering, “Something with flaxseed and spinach.”
“Fridays are vegan days.”
“Why?”
“Because no one cool eats at the Kitchenette on Fridays, so Bianca Bella decided to give the night to her friend who’s a vegan chef. Lots of crunchy types show up.”
“So I smelled,” she says, covering her mouth as if afraid she’ll offend someone.
“This job is making you soft.”
“Whatever. Can we go?”
“Before we do, I wanted to show you something.”
Audrey smiles casually, and I love how comfortable she already is in White Horse. She even drove to work this morning with minimal instruction from me.
Pulling back my sleeve, I show her the tattoo. Audrey stares at the cursive letters before caressing the red flesh.
Her beautiful eyes lift to study my face. I wait for her to speak; suddenly nervous she’ll be offended by my effort rather than impressed.
“I want your dick in me,” she whispers.
Cupping her cheek, I smile. “You’re welcome. Now let’s get you naked.”
Audrey grabs my hand and tugs me toward my truck parked around back. I wish I could pick her up and run, but my cock is now so hard that I can barely walk. The drive home might be the most painful five minutes of my life.
AUDREY
As a kid, I used to run my finger over the letters tatted on Pop’s wrist. Mom, Lily, Miranda, Colton, and finally my name were forever inked on his flesh. Pop said whenever he got to thinking life’s bullshit was too much to take that he would look at the tattooed names to remember why he needed to keep going.
Now Cap has my name on his wrist. One day, our kids will run their fingers over their inked names and know their pop never forgets who matters most to him.
The gesture makes my chest hurt, and I’m desperate to call Mom and tell her. First, though, I need relief for the heat between my legs. All week, I’ve waited for a sign to get over my fear of his monster-sized dick in my human-sized pussy. Just do it already! But I was scared and nightly put on the brakes. Now I’m more than willing. I’m literally creaming my panties in anticipation.
Cap flashes a seductive grin in my direction whenever we reach a light. I half-expect him to pounce on me as soon as we arrive at the house, but he plays the smooth operator instead.
“My parents will be gone for the weekend,” he says as we walk through the garage, down a hall, and into the living room.
“Where to?”
“They’re booked at a Nashville hotel to enjoy time away from us.”
Insulted, I mumble, “I’ve only been here a week, and they already need a break.”
“They go to hotels every few months to spice up their love life. It’s too gross for me to ask for details. The important thing is we have the house to ourselves. Even DB is at Cricket’s house so he can have dog time.”
No longer upset, I smile. “So we could theoretically run around naked then?”
“No theoretical about it. I don’t plan to wear clothes until Sunday when they return,” he says, hanging up our jackets before yanking off his sweater.
“What about breakfast at the Waffle House?”
“I’ll cook for you.”
Walking backward, I wiggle my boobs at him. “I thought I was horny before. Damn, a man who cooks is sexier than I deserve.”
“No, Pip, you deserve everything. I promise to make you so happy you beg me to stop.”
Giggling at the sexy meaning behind his promise, I hurry into his bedroom. I still think of it as Cap’s, though I sleep in here every night. One day, we’ll have a place that belongs to us both. Until then, I’m happy to wake up every morning with him at my side.
Cap slides out of his T-shirt and reaches for mine. “We can’t rush,” he says in just above a whisper. “If you want my cock in you, I’ll need to lube you up properly. That means, kissing,” he murmurs and brushes his lips across mine. “Licking,” he whispers and runs his tongue across my throat. “And sucking,” he adds as his thumbs tease my nipples through my bra.”
“I might be lubed enough already,” I say, swimming in lust.
Holding my gaze, Cap shakes his head. “Slip out of those jeans and panties. I want to see how wet you are.”
Obeying him, I strip out of my remaining clothes. I crawl on all fours onto the bed with my butt and pussy on display. Lust gives me courage, but love is what makes me invincible.
Cap’s fingers are featherlight against my exposed skin. They slither down my spine, circling my tailbone before dipping between my legs where I instinctively clench at their touch.
“Oh, you’re not ready at all,” he says in a disappointed voice. “No, you’ll need the help of a professional pussy licker to get you sufficiently prepared.”
“If I weren’t on all fours right now, I’d applaud your diagnosis,” I eagerly mumble.
The sound of Cap’s chuckling sends heat straight through me, and my legs tremble. Unable to hold myself still, I rest on my elbows and take a deep breath as I feel the heat of his breath on my pussy.
“Are you ready for me to own this pussy?” he asks, kissing my clit and forcing a strangled groan from me.
“Yes,” I whisper before losing my verbal skills.
Cap claims he learned to kiss by using a pear. I find this explanation to be pure horseshit. No way did his lips and tongue get so damn skilled with a piece of fruit. I suspect he took classes from professionals and practiced on a million women before meeting me. There’s no other explanation for why he can make me come so fast and hard. His two thick fingers thrusting inside me certainly helps.
“I’m done,” I mumble while struggling to catch my breath. “Just do what you need to do and cover me up when you’re finished.
Nipping at my left butt cheek, Cap still teases my rigid left nipple while also fingering me deeper and harder.
“Oh,” I moan. “Maybe I can handle more.”
“I think you can,” he says, before removing his fingers from my pussy and replacing them with his tongue.
Reaching under me, he tugs mercilessly at my nipples as his tongue fucks me with the same passion. I can’t believe I’m close to coming again. The man simply owns my body with the slightest effort.
Cap eases up on my pussy only long enough to line up his cock with my overheated center. I open for him, taking several inches with ease and pressing back to accept more. The intense sensation of being filled with his giant dick lights up my body. My skin immediately breaks out in sweat and goose bumps.
Cap groans deeply when my pussy grips his cock. He leans forward and possessively cups my tits. His hips move in shallow thrusts to avoid turning me into a shish kabob.
“Audrey Hayes has a sexy sound to it,” he says, steadily plunging his cock deeper. I grunt when the huge head reaches my cervix. “I have my rhythm now. Just relax while I make you come with my cock inside you, Pip.”
“Uh-huh,” I mumble as my mind swims with pleasure. “We should have done this the first night we met. Just fucked right in the pool. I’ve missed out on so much by waiting.”
Chuckling again, he leans forward and kisses the back of my head. “We have a lifetime to make up for the week of sex you missed.”
I grin back at him and notice his beard damp with my juices. My pussy clenches reflexively, and I’m one step closer to losing my fucking mind.
Cap’s hands explore my body, teasing my nipples before his right index finger settles on my clit. That’s the exact moment when I lose all track of time and space.
The room echoes with
the sounds of pleasured moans. I don’t know if it’s me or Cap or us crying out together. We move faster until I feel the blazing heat of him filling my body with his seed.
Still shaking after we collapse on the bed, I cuddle against Cap. We say nothing for the longest time, and the silence is comforting. I run my fingers through his thick dark chest hairs and down his stomach to where his dick now relaxes.
Grinning up at him, I instantly see from his expression that we’re on the same page—the countdown has begun to our next round.
CAP
Audrey refuses to walk around the house naked even while I let my dick swing free. She also insists on wearing panties and one of my shirts. Admittedly, this comes in handy when I call for food delivery.
“I don’t want anyone seeing your monster,” she says, sliding on her jacket as she retrieves our Thai food from the guy.
I wait behind the door, ready to pounce in case he causes trouble. Naked or not, I’m still capable of fucking up any asshole who messes with my woman.
“You should sit on a towel at least,” Audrey demands and rests one on the chair at the table as I set out our food. “Your parents worked hard for this house, and I can’t imagine they’d be happy with your bare ass on everything.”
“It’s not on everything,” I say, resting on the towel and realizing sitting on leather might have been a bad idea for my balls. “Besides, what makes you think my father’s ass hasn’t been on every surface of this house? I told you they like to run around naked when they’re alone.”
“But you’re always here, so are they ever really alone?”
“I’ve spent many weekends away to allow them to go full-nudist. I can’t blame them for wanting to embrace their naked selves. If you plan to spend a lot of time fucking, why waste time by dressing?”
Audrey grins and tugs off my shirt she’s wearing. “Fine, I’ll go topless, but I refuse to have my leaky pussy making a mess in this house.”
I take her hand and sigh. “You had me at leaky pussy.”
Audrey smirks and takes back her hand. “I’m not in the middle of my fertile period, but we should probably stock up on condoms until I get on birth control.”