0-69 in 5 Minutes

by Jasmine Black

  Once again he slid his head inside, this time inching a bit farther and back. How much more could he take? Could he hold back until her muscles relaxed for all of him? Or would he forget and take what felt magnificent? A feeling he’d never had with any other woman.

  Stroke by stroke, he pushed deeper. Tight muscles clamped around him. A groan tore from his lips as the length of him buried completely inside her. The feel of her pussy sheer bliss to him, but she couldn’t be enjoying it. There was no head rolling or hips grinding. He had to stop.

  “Are you okay?” he asked in a whisper.

  “Uh hum.” Her voice sounded raspy, not at all pleasurable.

  “I’ll stop.” The words came out, even though he prayed she would want him to continue.

  “No, don’t. Kiss me.”

  He kissed her lips and began to move slowly. After a few more strokes, she closed her eyes, moved her hips and moaned.

  “Oh, yeah.” Her body accepted his, welcomed him.

  They moved in sync, fit perfectly. Like a custom-made driving glove, her pussy surrounded his cock and squeezed him. Of all the other women he’d been with, none had felt so right or looked more desirable.

  His strokes increased in speed. No longer did he fear hurting her, nor could he control his need. Pumping harder, she bucked beneath him. Matched his pace. Whimpered in his ear.

  Perfect, sweet cries filled the air. The more she cried, the more intense her pussy squeezed. Yes! It feels so good. Wet. Hot. Oh, fuck. He felt himself reach the point of no return and drove home with one last hard thrust.

  Husky and sexy moans mingled together as they found release in each other. But even though his had been louder, he still heard her cry out, “Sam.”

  She had made love to Sam. Some guy she made up in her head. Had she even noticed him as a lover? Him! Noah had made love to her.

  Two weeks. Would two short weeks be enough for him? Could he play the part of Sam and then walk away from the one woman who had stirred so much passion and desire deep within? He’d have to somehow. She’d only invited him to her place to help facilitate her lie. Get to know each other intimately. Her body responded to his, but her mind focused on the authentication of the fraud.

  The nice guy lost again.

  Chapter 4

  Val opened her eyes to find streams of sunlight across the covers and the left side of the bed empty. Stretching, she smiled as thoughts of last night flooded her mind.

  Shit! Last night. Noah!

  “Noah?” She grabbed her robe and threw it on as she searched the house, but it too was empty. He was gone.

  “Now what?” Val questioned as if a loud voice would boom from the ceiling with an answer.

  How could she have been so stupid? Clearly, he’d come home with her for sex. Did she really expect a man to agree to such a ludicrous scheme? Well, she had offered him a thousand dollars. That should have been enough. Hell, she should have paid for an escort. At least he would have been a professional. Yeah, but then Tyler might have known him from the business.

  No, my plan was better, but I should have played it smarter. Got his phone number at least. She sat on the edge of the bed and reached for the phone book in the nightstand. It was the best chance she had. Kittler. He’d told her his last name when they met.

  Before she opened the drawer, she spotted a business card. Kittler Auto Shop. The hours indicated the shop was open on Saturday mornings from eight to noon. She released a sigh and hugged herself. He’d gone to work and left his business number for her. Not as nice as leaving a home phone or cell, but she had made it a business deal.

  Since she didn’t have any appointments scheduled until noon, she put the card back on the nightstand and walked to the bathroom. A nice hot bath seemed in order. The night had gone magnificently. She’d found a man to make even her sister, Bree-who preferred women, but would do the occasional male-lust.

  Noah had agreed to her plan and also given her a night to remember. Tender and caring. Hot and satisfying. However, she’d never slept with a man so large. Never seen one except in Tyler’s movies. And there was a reason Tyler stayed behind the scenes, sleeping with the women off camera. Though he’d made plenty of private, personal footage of himself and the tramps. Noah put him and the other guys to shame. Which was another reason she wanted to soak in the tub, to ease her soreness.

  She doubted a man such as Noah would either like her—an inexperienced woman—or find pleasure in her, but it didn’t matter. Their deal was business. Nothing more, nothing less. He’d be gone in fourteen short days and she’d have the memory of last night forever.

  She should be happy. Life would go back to the way it was. Men were untrustworthy, and she did just fine on her own. No one to catch cheating or lying. No reason to snoop around. And best of all, no heartaches. Of course, there were no children to fill her house either, and she wanted to hear the sound of children’s laughter, enjoy their slobbery kisses and hug them close as they slept.

  By the time she’d taken her bath, eaten, and waited on a couple of walk-ins, noon had come and gone. Noah most likely would have closed his shop, and she’d missed her chance to call. She’d have to wait until Monday to contact him.

  Precious time wasted. During the week, they both had to work. She knew how hard running a business was. Long hours. Little time for family or friends. How much could they learn about each other in the time span they had?

  * * * *

  Bree read the article for the fourth time. No? Couldn’t be. Could it? Val had said his name was Sam White. But there had to be lots of people named White. Sam wasn’t an uncommon name either.

  She looked over the article again. The name Samuel White was printed in bold letters. Well, Mom and Dad’s precious Valerie had her own eccentric desires. Maybe when they found out whom big sis was into, they wouldn’t be so hard on her.

  Oh, they had accepted she’d never marry a man and start a family. At the time she’d believed she wanted them to. Then they turned all their attention to Val, hoping she’d give them a grandchild. Attention they used to lavish on her.

  They welcomed the women in her life, even hoped she’d go to a sperm bank, but when they found out she didn’t want children, they lost a bit of spark. Why were grandchildren so important to them anyway? Who cared about smelly, dirty, loud little brats? She didn’t.

  She grabbed the phone and called Val.

  “Hello, Valerie’s Nails. How can I…”

  “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you look at your caller ID?” She rolled her eyes.

  “Hey, sis. I’ve just been a bit busy today and forgot. What’s up?”

  “I wanted to know if you were free tonight.” She smiled. Val would have plans with Sam again.

  “Oh, you know, staying in. Dinner and a movie. A bit of snuggling on the couch. Why?”

  “Because, I have an announcement to make. So, throw some chicken and a pot of beans on the grill. I’ll bring some extra sides and Mom’s bringing dessert.”

  “Huh… Bree, tonight’s not really a good…”

  “The time hasn’t been right for months. Don’t worry about the house being a mess. We all just want to meet Sam, and I do have some news. I already told Mom. We’ll be by about seven.”

  Before she allowed Val to protest, she hung up. Then called their mom to tell her Val had invited them to dinner.

  She put the phone down and read the upcoming events in her Alternative Lifestyles newsletter again. According to it, the famous Samuel White would be performing live next weekend at the T-Back lounge as “Samantha White”.

  * * * *

  Shit, shit, shit! Val ran to the bedroom, snatched the business card and dialed. After three rings the answering machine picked up. Crap! She slammed the phone down without leaving a message. It wouldn’t do her any good. Monday would be too late for him to get it.

  Her heart pounded in her chest as she raced around the place, taking chicken out of the freezer, picking up magazines, and wiping down surfaces.
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  In four short hours her parents expected to meet the man they believed would help produce grandchildren. Why couldn’t they play golf or travel like normal middle-aged parents?

  Calm down. Just think of a good excuse why he can’t make it tonight. He got sick? Had to work late? Went out of town? Think! She scrubbed the toilet until the water sparkled and still had no excuse. None original anyway. Already he’d had a death in the family and had to go out of town. Volunteered for charity on the weekends and worked more hours than existed in the week. Maybe the sick angle would work. A cold? The flu? No, Mom would just want to take him soup. The measles, chicken pox, malaria?

  Get a grip. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t. Weeks of planning, dodging, and lying, all for nothing.

  She picked up the phone and hit redial. Noah’s recorded voice came across the line. It was no use. After six months of holding them off and finally finding the perfect man to play the part, she would have to come clean. Tell the truth.

  Her parents would be so disappointed in her. Twenty-eight years old, three failed relationships, and no children. Forget about surviving three broken hearts, financial ruin and crawling back to owning a house and business.

  A tear ran down her cheek. She swiped it away, but more followed. How could she face them? Her body slumped over on the bed, and she indulged in a short pity party. Then she straightened her clothes and hair, before preparing the words she’d use when she told them the truth. Even if it would break her mother’s heart.

  Or better yet, she still had two hours to research malaria.

  * * * *

  Noah stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He checked his answering machine and then his cell phone. Nothing.

  All day he’d waited for a ring. Why hadn’t she called? Had she changed her mind? His muscles tensed at the thought. Had he hurt her more than she’d let on? He shook his head, praying he hadn’t. Needing to shave, he lathered gel on his face.

  Something didn’t seem quite right. Why would a beautiful woman like Val need to pay a guy to go out with her? He’d do it for free. Wanted to ask her out the moment he’d sat down at her table.

  She had told him about her ex. The jackass. Maybe they had just broken up. How could anyone date her and not make love to her? Rich silky smooth skin. Tender lips. Legs of a goddess. Her cries still echoed in his mind. Focusing on work had been a challenge today.

  He scraped the gel and stubble from his face in hopes she’d call and he’d get to see her again, washed his face, and splashed on aftershave.

  Maybe she’d called his business phone. He dialed the number to check his work messages, but found none. Didn’t she see the card on the nightstand? Or the note on the back? It was already six o’clock. He might as well go to the track since he wouldn’t be seeing Val.

  On second thought, his ex would be there tonight, flaunting her single status. Playing the part of the dumper, even though he had kicked her out. He couldn’t stand other men groping his woman, or his woman letting them, but that had only been part of their troubles. Bambi still thought he’d take her back. Even left all her shit for when he was ready to let her come home. Well, hell would freeze over before that happened.

  If she didn’t get her stuff soon, he’d call some charity and give it away. He laughed and shook his head. They wouldn’t want the stuff either. Mostly stripper clothes and sex toys. Fluffy pink crap. Why on earth had he married a plastic stripper? She’d batted her fake eyelashes, and he’d been horny, that’s why.

  He didn’t want fake. Fake eyelashes, fake boobs or fake orgasms. The tramp had needed a place to live and he’d supplied it. All the while thinking she’d loved him.

  Val was fake too. Fake girlfriend, fake sex, fake everything—except her fabulous body. Nothing good could come of this arrangement. Albeit, he was a man of his word, and he’d given it to her. Plus, the grand would be nice. He could make some upgrades to his drag car; focus on his hobby instead of his out-of-control love life.

  Six fifteen. He threw on a pair of jeans and a Queen t-shirt. Then he reached for the phone book and flipped to the J’s. A lump formed in his throat as he dialed. What if she changed her mind?

  One ring.

  What if she never wanted to see him again?

  Three rings.

  As he started to hang up, a frantic hello came from the other end of the line.

  “Val, hey. I was uh… wondering when you needed us to get together again.”

  “Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe you called!” She let out a loud sigh.

  Not sure if she was relieved or upset he asked, “Is this a bad time?” What could she be doing that made his call bad timing? He was her boyfriend after all. Or supposed to be. He needed to get control of his racing emotions. They did nothing to help prove his take charge, bad boy persona.

  “No! Perfect timing. My sister called and said she had some news to tell everyone. Then she invited herself and my parents over.”

  “So, you’re busy tonight then. I understand—”

  She cut him off. “No, you don’t understand. Before she invited herself over, I stuck my foot in my mouth and said we were staying in tonight. They’ll be here in about forty-five minutes and they expect to meet you.”

  “Tonight?” His voice raised a few notches. Meet the parents tonight. They couldn’t pull that off. He didn’t even know her middle name, or his, for that matter. “Whoa. I’m not sure we’re ready for this.”

  “There’s no more time. We’ll have to wing it. You will come over, won’t you?” She pleaded, and he could almost hear the tears in her trembling voice.

  “Yeah. I just need to throw on some shoes. I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and raked his hand through his hair. Why couldn’t he say no to her? Or any other woman, for that matter? Hadn’t he screwed up four times in the past?

  None of that mattered. This was a business deal. Quick cash. Nothing more, nothing less. If that was true, why was his stomach in knots about seeing her and anxiety flooding him over meeting the parents?

  He brushed his thoughts aside, grabbed his keys and headed for the door. As he reached for the knob, it turned and the door crept open.

  He gasped. ''Holy shit! What happened to you?''

  Chapter 5

  “Noah! What are you doing here?”

  “I live here. And I think I'm the one who should be asking you that question.” He wanted to tell Bambi to save her explanation and get the hell out of his house, but she looked a mess.

  Dirty and tangled hair dangled in her face, shielding it from his view. Torn clothes hung on her too-thin body. And he would swear she’d been crying. He could hear it in her voice, but for some reason she wouldn’t look at him.

  He hadn't seen her in over three months, since he'd caught her smoking crack, again, and had to take a stand against it. The signs had screamed at him, but he’d chosen to ignore them, hoping he was wrong.

  “I stopped by to grab some clean clothes. It'll only take a minute. I thought you'd be at the track tonight.” She shut the door and eased past him, without looking up.

  Something was wrong. His ex-wife never hung her head. Nor did she act passive. A voice inside told him to leave. Get out while he could, rid himself of her and run to Val. He clenched his keys in his hand and reached for the door.

  Sobs drifted down the stairs. Shit! He let out a long groan, walked upstairs and down the hall. Tears made him weak. Plus, he'd never seen her such a mess.

  Standing in the doorway to the bedroom, he looked at Bambi. She sat on the edge of the bed they used to share. The frilly pink thing she'd picked out still covered it. He’d searched the house, but couldn’t find the old quilt he used to use and he couldn’t fall asleep without some form of cover.

  Tears rolled down her dirty cheek. She brushed back the strands of tangled hair covering half of her face. Her right eye bulged outward and blood caked the corner of her mouth. As another sob tore from her throat, she grabbed her side
and winced.

  A sharp twinge stabbed his side as if he felt her pain. He'd regret asking, but his protective male instinct took over. “What happened?”

  She jumped at his voice, shook her bleached blonde hair loose from behind her ear. “Noah, you startled me,” she whispered.

  The bed creaked and dipped as he sat down beside her. "Answer me.” Her skin felt gritty and clammy when he tipped her chin and inspected her wounds.

  Had she fallen? Been in a car wreck? Possibly a fight with some man’s wife? The last possibility seemed the most obvious answer given her track record.

  “I... uh.” She fidgeted with her fingernails.

  He sucked in his breath as a sickening thought crossed his mind. "Did someone put their hands on you?"

  Empty blue eyes gazed at the floor. Trembling lips refused to answer.

  “Son-of-a-bitch! Who put his hands on you?” He gripped her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “Who did this to you?” The bastard would pay. No matter what Bambi had done, she didn't deserve to be smacked around. No woman did.

  “Please, don't do anything. They'll hurt you, too. I couldn't bear knowing I caused you more pain.” She buried her head on his shoulder.

  “They?” What had she gotten herself into?

  He ran his hand over her back and brushed a light kiss on her head. The ripe smell of dirt and blood pierced his nostrils, made him cough. She smelled nothing like Val smelled. Sweet, flowery.

  He wished it was Val in his bed right now. Unharmed of course, but they had a business deal, not a real relationship. His wish most likely would never come true.

  Bambi sat up straight. "I've done some stupid things since you made me leave. Without you, I've been lost, and I started using pretty heavy." She stood up and paced. "Don't give me that look. I said it was stupid. And now I owe a lot of money to my dealer."

  "Jesus, Bambi. You're going to get yourself killed. How much?"

  "Two thousand." She spit the words out and bit down on her swollen lip.