Riding Lil' Red Hard

by Eddie Cleveland

  I let my tight grip on her hair go and clamp my hands down on her hips, licking a trail back up to her clit. I dig my fingers into her flesh as I circle my lips around her clit and batter it with my tongue.

  Vanessa writhes against me, trying to chase her pleasure with her hips, but I’ve got her held down tight. I flatten my tongue and drag it over the length of her again until I’m back at her asshole and I suck on my thumb for a second before pushing it inside her to the knuckle. Vanessa tenses up around me, like every muscle inside her is pressing down on me, but as I explore her clit again, she begins to relax and gasp at the new sensation. I can feel her trembling on the countertop as I squeeze her ass with my free hand and swirl my tongue on her clit faster and faster. She quivers as I flicker and suck on her nub, dragging out her pleasure, controlling her orgasm. I relentlessly lap at her and press my thumb inside her ass until I can feel her body go rigid and she screams my name.

  “Gabe! Ohhh!” Her body quakes with little tremors as her muscles grow slack and her legs slide off the edge of the counter.

  I tug her hair back, and she lifts her head as I stuff every inch of my thick cock inside her. I push my thumb inside her asshole, filling her completely as I hold her under my control and fuck her hard against the counter.

  “That’s my good girl,” I manage to breathe out the raspy words as I thrust into her faster. I step out, making her legs spread further open and bury myself as deep as possible inside her core as she bears down on my cock, milking me for my cum. I can’t take it, I fuck her until she’s just uttering a steady stream of noises, her tits bounce beautifully as I pump into her furiously.

  The orgasm blinds me, overwhelming my senses as intense bliss rips through me and my cum fills her in spurts. Vanessa cries out as she clenches down around my cock, taking every last drop of my seed.

  I collapse on top of her, breathing hard and kissing her back softly as I pull out and step away, helping her up onto her shaky legs. I hold Vanessa into my chest tight and kiss her on the forehead.

  “That was amazing! I’m going to need to get you arrested more often,” she teases.

  “No chance of that,” I answer, my breathing jagged and my lungs burning for air. “You’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me now,” I tease.

  “Good,” she purrs, running her hand over my chest, “because I’d like you to stay here with me from now on. I don’t want any more time away from you.” She kisses my chin and looks up to me for my reaction.

  “I was wondering when you were gonna say that,” I smile. Lifting her up in my arms, she smiles at me as I carry her down the hall to her room. To our room.

  “I love you, Gabe,” she snuggles into my chest and I hold her close.

  “I love you too, Vanessa,” I kiss her swollen lips and then the tip of her nose. “Forever.”

  Epilogue|Gabe

  “That meal was amazing,” Vanessa tosses her hair over her shoulder. It’s grown back to her old style now, it took almost a year, but it erased the last of the evidence that she ever briefly worked on that movie. The one that just had it’s opening weekend in the theatres and is already being called Fifty Shades of Awful in the reviews. I guess she dodged a bullet there.

  “It was pretty good,” I agree and slip my arm around her waist, walking down the Vegas strip in the cool autumn night.

  I guess there is still one shred of existing proof that she was supposed to be the lead actress in that show.

  Me.

  I smile at how destiny or fate or whatever brought us together. They say you find love in unlikely places, but a sex club has got to top the list of the most unlikely.

  “So now what? The night is young,” she wraps her delicate hand around my side and leans into me as we make our way up the bustling sidewalk full of drunk tourists. The flashing and shimmering lights cry out for our attention from every angle, begging us to look at whatever building or attraction they’re selling, but we can’t stop staring at each other.

  “We can have an early night,” I shrug as a smirk slides over my lips. An early night in Vegas means a late night in the hotel room, I let my fingers travel down the small of her back and over the curve of her ass until they find their home in her back pocket.

  “No way! What are you, ninety? You can’t call it a night at eight-thirty,” she protests as the flickering lights around us dance in her beautiful eyes. “Do you, I dunno, want to go to a strip club or a cabaret show?” She raises an eyebrow at me mischievously.

  It’s tempting, but the idea of going to a room full of people to stare at women that have nothing on Vanessa feels like a waste of a night.

  "Why would I go watch some stranger peel off her clothes when I’ve got fucking perfection waiting for me under these ones?” I squeeze her ass hard and she swats at me playfully, laughing. How is it that she still blushes like that? How is she still so innocent even when I know she’s so sinfully dirty just under the surface?

  Suddenly a loud outburst of whooping and hollering forces us to look across the street to a wedding party who are clearly hammered and stumbling down the strip in some kind of rhythm less conga line. Leading the pack is the bride, with the skimpiest wedding dress I’ve ever seen and a crazy, elaborate veil barely clinging to her head along with the groom dressed in shorts and a blazer. I don’t know about his fashion choices, but he definitely looks happy. And drunk. But mostly happy.

  “Maybe that’s what we should do,” Vanessa smiles up at me, “you know the saying, ‘what happens in Vegas,’” she laughs.

  “Yeah, except marriage,” I shake my head, “that doesn’t just stay in Vegas,” I shake my head. I silently watch the wedding party, well, party down the street without a care in the world and glance down at the woman I love. "I think we should do that,” I don’t really think about what I’m saying, the words just rise up from my heart and spill out my mouth before my brain has a chance to ruin them.

  “What?”

  “Seriously, I’d love to elope with you. Here. Now. But really get married,” I realize I’m rambling and possibly giving the worst marriage proposal ever. My heart hammers in my chest and my mouth begins to dry out as I realize just how serious I am about this. “I already know I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. I already know I want to wake up to you every single day, I love you," I swallow hard and hold her shoulders tight as I watch her eyes open wide with surprise. “Vanessa? Will you let me marry you at some cheesy chapel in Vegas, maybe by Elvis or something? Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

  It feels like my heart is thudding right inside my neck as I wait for what feels like an eternity for her to process my words. The teasing glint that was in her eyes has faded and now she looks up at me earnestly, searching my face, “Yes,” she nods. “I would love to,” a huge smile spreads over her plump lips and I pick her up in my arms and swirl her around as I kiss her.

  “I love you,” I whisper in her ear.

  “I love you too,” she giggles and I place her gently back on her feet.

  “So, do you really want to do this? I don’t want this to be some Hollywood marriage that ends in two days,” I tilt my head at her sternly but I know she feels the same way I do. I’ve known for over a year now.

  “Yes! Let’s go to the chapel,” she tucks her brown hair behind her ear and grins.

  “Alright, I feel something inside me that I haven’t felt since I was in the SEALs. Excitement. Like I’m getting ready to take an epic adventure or parachute into some unknown land. Like my adrenaline is buzzing through my veins and making every sensation stronger.

  I flag down a cab and Vanessa and I hop in the back.

  “Where to?” The burly man behind the wheel asks us in his rearview mirror.

  “We want to get married,” Vanessa gushes, her smile couldn’t be wider.

  “By Elvis,” I add in and she giggles next to me.

  “Yeah, by Elvis,” she agrees.

  “Congratulations,” the man turns
around and glances at us, “I know just the place.”

  Epilogue|Vanessa

  I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s so cheesy but it’s so fun. It just feels perfect. The Elvis impersonator with a shiny, gold jacket holds my arm and leads me down the short red carpet to the front of the chapel to Gabe.

  My Mom is going to kill me.

  I mean, we’ll have another wedding for friends and family later, but right now, this moment is just for us.

  God, he looks so sexy.

  Every step I take, I watch Gabe closely. I can’t take my eyes off him. How did I get so lucky to find a man like him? One that can make me feel sexy with a look, one that can make me feel safe with a hug, one that can make me cum every single time we fuck.

  He’s perfect.

  The chapel photographer and official witness for our marriage snaps photos as Elvis brings me next to Gabe and then releases my arm, jumping up onto the white pillars decorated in lush roses.

  “I love you,” Gabe whispers to me as I clutch his broad hands and feel suddenly overwhelmed in the best possible way by all of this. I can’t wait to be his wife. To make that commitment to him forever. He’s my everything. I’m guessing even our Elvis impersonator can see that and he’s probably seen it all.

  “I love you too,” I whisper back.

  “Alright, tonight we have the absolute honour of marrying this lovely couple, Vanessa Parker and Gabriel Keenan,” Elvis speaks into a microphone despite it being an empty room. “Join those hands together, because today you join hands and join hearts to come together and celebrate one of the truly great moments of your lives, today, your wedding day,” Elvis announces as Gabe smiles down at me.

  It feels so appropriate that it’s just us here because every time he gives me that look, the world dissolves into oblivion and all I can see is him anyway. We could have a thousand-people sitting in this chapel, but all I would ever see is him.

  “Gabriel would you please repeat after me,” Elvis nods at the man that is moments away from becoming my husband, “I Gabriel.”

  “I Gabriel,” he repeats, never taking his intense blue eyes off of mine.

  “Take thee, Vanessa to be my wedded wife, ma, ma, my best friend,” Elvis swings his hips and the photographer snaps some pictures, “and my soulmate.”

  Gabe repeats the words, but without any theatrics. It’s like he’s finally saying something he’s kept buried in his soul for too long. With every word of our wedding vows, I can see the truth in them, in his love, in his eyes, in us.

  Elvis turns his attention to me and I can’t help but giggle at how silly this whole thing is. I feel like it’s a perfect way for two people who met under ridiculous circumstances to take these vows. I love that Gabe and I don’t take ourselves too seriously. The only thing we take seriously is our love.

  He guides me through the vows and I repeat each and every word, feeling it tattoo across my heart, and knowing that we are committing to each other for the rest of our lives. Tears line my eyes, I’ve never felt so happy before. And the crazy part is, I know that for as long as Gabriel is my husband I’ll always be blessed.

  “You may now kiss the bride,” Elvis instructs us.

  Gabe leans into me and sweeps me into his arms, wrapping them completely around me. I melt into him as our lips collide and our marriage becomes official with a slow and sensual kiss.

  “Now I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel,” Gabe murmurs in my ear, “this is going to be a crazy honeymoon, Mrs. Keenan,” his voice is laced with desire and it makes a shiver lick my spine as I realize that tonight I’m going to have mind-blowing sex with my husband. I can’t help but smile. My cheeks actually hurt from smiling I am so happy.

  “Then we better get back and get started,” I kiss him again and close my eyes, getting lost in our world of two and knowing that as long as we have each other we can face anything … together.

  The End

  The extended epilogue is available to members of my newsletter.

  Tinder Ella

  Synopsis:

  It was supposed to be one night of magic, but now I’ll risk everything to see my prince charming again.

  Ella

  By fifteen I learned a hard lesson that life is no fairy-tale and I'm no princess. When I was smuggled into America, I became a slave for a cruel woman who wouldn't think twice about selling me to the black market.

  When she goes out of town, I know setting up a dating app profile makes no sense. I know it's dangerous and foolish. But I can't spend the rest of my life wondering what I'm missing.

  I was supposed to get lost in the fantasy, not his eyes. Not his tall, muscular body that makes my body clench in ways I've never felt before. In places I've never been touched by any man.

  I'm not the kind of girl who gets a happily ever after. So, why am I willing to risk everything to see him again?

  Jackson

  After I was discharged from the SEALs I was badly broken but a child saved me. MY child saved me. Now I’m a single Dad doing my best to raise my daughter. I thought I was finally happy, I thought I was complete.

  Until I saw her.

  Ella.

  It was an amazing date until I ruined everything. I pushed her too fast — too hard and she ran away. It’s like she just disappeared.

  I can’t stop until I find her. It may have taken an instant, but I know there was something real between us. And I won’t stop scouring the earth until I find her.

  Tinder Ella is a 53k word steamy STANDALONE contemporary romance with no cliffhanger, no cheating, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.

  Prologue | Jackson

  I stare straight ahead and rest my hand against the cool, hard, familiar heel of my pistol. My fingers coil around the handle like a boa constrictor squeezing out the last moments of a rabbit’s life. Like how darkness has slowly suffocated the fight from me. The thrashing and screaming are all over. I’m remarkably calm now that I know this is done. Now that I’ve lost the will to live.

  Now that I’m going to kill myself.

  It was never supposed to go this way. I blink, my tired eyes gritty as if I’ve rubbed sandpaper over them. When was the last time I really slept? It’s all a haze. Ever since the night our Humvee got hit. I just can’t keep the days and weeks and months straight anymore. I had a promising career in the SEALs, where I was shooting up the ranks, surrounded by the best men I’ve ever known. Then, all my dreams, my future, my entire fucking life, it all blew up and burned in the fiery explosion of the IED. As the flames ripped through our armored vehicle, as they sizzled across Heinkel’s flesh, killing him, they destroyed us.

  They say things are forged by fire. We like to talk about the phoenix that rose from the ashes, stronger and more beautiful. That’s fucking bullshit. That fire took everything from me. My brothers. My career. And now, my life.

  I lift the gun from my empty kitchen table. The weight in my hand is comforting. My heartbeat slows and my breathing grows deep and steady as I glance down at the black steel. A sad smile twists my lips as memories of when I first joined the SEALs flood my mind. Those were the best days of my life. Proving myself at demolition training, finding my tribe, getting assigned to my unit, and meeting the guys who would become closer than blood to me.

  Tears blur my vision as I mourn the man I thought I’d be. The brave, strong, elite soldier who’d never break and never falter. Now look at me. I’m not strong, I’m not brave. I’m not even a fucking soldier anymore. I’m nothing. No one.

  Water streaks back toward my hairline as I frown up at the ceiling. “What else am I supposed to do, huh? Keep living like a trapped rat? Stuck in some kind of hole while the water slowly drowns me? I know you said this is a sin, but fuck, God, why aren’t you helping me? Why did you leave us out there to die? If you didn’t want me to end it like this, why didn’t you take me in the explosion? Instead of leaving me fucking useless and alone.” Anger taints my words as my voice chokes up in my throat and snot
runs from my nose.

  My tears fall down my face and my hand lifts the pistol with a tremble, tucking it under my chin. I’m such a fucking coward now. My hands shake at the idea of pulling the trigger. What have I become? I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I rest my grizzled jaw down onto the muzzle and steady my twitching hand with my free one.

  “I’m talking to myself, aren’t I? Like a fucking little kid who still believes in Santa, I’m hanging onto some sad idea that you’re even up there. That you even care. If you existed, I would’ve never seen the things I’ve seen.”

  The barrel pinches the sensitive flesh under my jawbone as I look up at my ceiling again. “If you’re there, if you give a shit about me, give me a sign, God. I just need a sign that...” My voice quivers as hot tears fall over my cheeks and spill onto my hands. “That any of this gets better. That my life won’t be this fog of anger and despair. That my dreams won’t just be watching the men I loved die. That this stops hurting so fucking much.” I howl. My finger moves to the trigger and I try to hold the gun tight in my grip, but it’s hard to do when my shoulders are shaking so hard.

  “Please,” I plead with God, or maybe with nothing. Maybe with myself. Maybe only with my demons.

  The room is eerily silent. There’s nothing to indicate I’m doing anything but stalling. I don’t know why I expected anything different. What did I think would happen? The sky would open? Light would pierce my window and shine on me like a spotlight from Heaven? It’s stupid.

  I’m stupid.

  And I’m done. My index finger circles the trigger and I take a deep lungful of air, pulling back the hammer with my thumb. I close my eyes and push the tip of the gun into my skin.