Clouds In My Coffee

by ANDREA SMITH

  “I see,” he murmurs. “So, what are we going to do about that, Parrish?”

  Hah!

  I lean forward, my hands folded in front of me. “I’m afraid I don’t have much of an appetite this evening—for food, Marco. I might be amenable to fucking you, if you have no objection, that is.”

  His eyes are intense now and I pray to God he doesn’t reject my forwardness because, trust me, it’s a fucking first. Without taking his eyes off of me, he snaps his fingers, “Check please, Michelle.”

  Marco doesn’t waste any time in paying our bill and hustling me out to his car. Once inside, we have several moments to wait while the car warms back up and the windows defrost.

  I decide to take an awkward moment and make the best of it. I raise myself up and over the console, my face nuzzling into him. My lips make contact with his neck, moving leisurely to his strong jawline, planting soft, warm kisses along the way.

  My fingers are buried in his thick, dark hair, pulling his face closer to mine, and then the power shifts from me to him. He lets a low growl escape and his mouth takes full possession of mine.

  His lips are soft and warm and totally owning mine. His large hands frame my face as he controls the tempo. I feel his teeth nip at my bottom lip and then he gently sucks it in, as a soft moan escapes me. His tongue parts my lips further and I press myself even closer to his masculine warmth, as our kiss deepens with lustful passion.

  “Fuck,” he growls, pulling back, “We’re going to my place. Any objections?”

  I smile, nipping playfully at his bottom lip now. “I wasn’t planning on fucking you in the car,” I tease.

  Time has evaporated; I can’t even tell you how many minutes passed once we hit the road to the hotel where Marco is staying, because the whole way, I let my fingers do the walking all over his crotch. My fingers pressed, pulled and rubbed the denim-clad bulge that seemed to grow with every passing moment. My tongue teased his right ear lobe and, I swear to God, he was having difficulty keeping his eyes on the road.

  “Christ, you need some cock,” he said, grinning as I toyed with the zipper on his jeans.

  I have never been one to talk dirty before, but, then again, I’ve never felt this liberated before. Maybe I owe Ryan’s cheating ass for that, but whatever the reason, I like it. I want to be a dirty girl. I’m not looking for love or a relationship or ties that bind. I simply want raw, sport-fucking with someone who wants the same.

  Marco fits the bill.

  “No more than you need pussy, Marco,” I reply coyly, gripping his hard-on firmly, letting my thumbnail trace his length slowly up and then back down. I hear his sharp intake of breath.

  He gazes over at me briefly, as he prepares to turn into the parking lot of Hilton North. “Sounds like we’re on the same page then,” he remarks, his eyes are kind of smoldering and, I’m not gonna lie, my pussy is already damp with anticipation.

  We somehow make it inside to his suite, which is on the sixth floor, before we literally start tearing at one another’s clothing. Marco pulls my sweater off over my head, tossing it to the floor as his one hand cups my chin bringing my mouth to his, while his other hand roughly moves my bra aside to claim a breast, his fingers massaging my nipples to erection. I shiver against him. My fingers are roughly working the button above his fly. I sigh heavily, frustrated. I feel like I’ll die if I don’t grope his cock in the next thirty seconds.

  He gives a soft chuckle, kissing the tip of my nose playfully and pulls back. “Easy girl, I can’t grow a new one, you know?”

  God. I’m fucking embarrassed!

  But, as I peer up at him, I see genuine warmth and amusement in his eyes.

  It’s all good.

  In seconds, I hear the sound of his zipper, followed by the sound of his jeans falling in a heap at his feet. He steps out of them, his eyes still on mine. He’s kicked off his boots somewhere between the door we came through and to where we now stand, at the foot of the bed.

  “What are you waiting for? Don’t you want to see what you’ve been feeling the whole way back here?”

  I feel warmth flood my cheeks as I peer down and see his impressive erection flat against his belly. No boxers. No tighty whities.

  Marco goes commando.

  And that’s pretty fuckin’ hot. Then I notice the glint of silver.

  Fuck! He’s got a pierced dick!

  Oh. My.

  “Aren’t you gonna take your sweater off?” I ask, as if I’ve seen a zillion pierced cocks of his generous size. I mean, come on! No sense in giving Agent Trevani a big head, right?

  No pun intended.

  “Whatever you want, angel,” he replies, taking both hands and pulling his sweater up and over his head. I view his broad chest and admire the corded muscles of his upper arms. My gaze lowers to his firm flat belly and the narrow line of dark hair that trails south to what he’s got hanging “Now your turn, babe. I want to watch you finish undressing. And I want you to take it nice and slow for my viewing pleasure.”

  I release the breath I’ve been holding and give a slight nod of acknowledgement.

  He backs up the few steps to where the king-sized bed starts and lowers himself down, rolling to his side, one leg propped, one arm crooked and his head resting on his hand. His eyes don’t waver and I can see he expects me to do exactly as he’s instructed.

  I can do this.

  I lean over and remove my boots first, along with my socks. I straighten up and finish removing the bra he had moved helter-skelter when he wanted to ravage my tits. I let it drop to the floor and take this opportunity to cup my own breasts with my hands. I slowly massage them in a circular motion; my tongue wets my lower lip as he continues to watch what I’m doing.

  I lick my index and middle fingers and then move them back to my breast, where I bring my nipple to full erection. I don’t miss the fact he’s moved his free hand to his cock, gripping it and slowly stroking it while watching me.

  My fingers move to my other breast and I gently rub and tease that nipple, allowing a soft moan to escape. His eyes darken from amber to a chocolate brown and his tongue flickers across his lower lip.

  I move one hand to the waistband of my jeans, slowly freeing the button and then lowering the zipper. I use both hands to lower my jeans past my hips where they fall to the carpet. I step out of them realizing the only thing left is the black silk thong I’m wearing.

  I suddenly feel shy and I don’t want that, so I mask it with boldness. I take a step forward and sink to my knees on the mattress. I crawl to him, my mouth finding his, my hand replacing his on his cock.

  He lets out a deep growl and, before I can blink twice, he’s ripped the thong from me with one swift pull.

  “You owe me underwear, Agent Trevani,” I say, moving back from him.

  “I want to see your pussy. On your back,” he growls.

  I comply, crooking one arm behind my head so that I can watch to see what he has planned. It doesn’t take but a few moments before it becomes perfectly clear.

  Marco moves between my legs, pulling them up and apart, slinging each one over a muscular shoulder and promptly buries his mouth at my apex, feasting on my drenched pussy with a fervor I’ve never known.

  I can’t suppress my moans of pleasure even if I wanted to, which I don’t. He does this with such precision and expertise he needs to know just how fucking good he is at eating pussy.

  I hear my soft-getting-louder mewling as I wriggle and writhe beneath his magic tongue and lips.

  “Like that do you, baby?” he asks softly. “Your pussy tastes so fucking sweet.”

  “Marco,” I whine, nearing the edge, giving myself a mental facepalm for thinking I could outlast this man.

  “What love?” he asks, his tone carrying a thread of teasing. “What do you need?”

  “Hmmm...I need your cock inside me right now. I need to come and then I want more.”

  “Is that right?” he asks, a flicker of humor in his voice, as I feel h
is words against my heat. “Are you sure you just aren’t anxious to feel my cock ring rubbing inside this sweet pussy?”

  I flush, grinding my pelvis up into his face roughly. “Well, that too.”

  Fuck! He’s so good at multi-tasking that I don’t even realize his hand has reached into the drawer of the hotel nightstand and removed a condom.

  Hmm?

  “I want you to ride my cock,” he announces, rocking back on his haunches lowering my legs so that he can roll the condom down the length of his engorged shaft. “I want to watch your beautiful face as I make you come. Are you okay with that?”

  “Yes,” I whimper breathlessly. “But, will I feel your piercing beneath that?”

  He laughs. “Greedy thing, aren’t you? Yes, you will feel all of me.”

  “I’d rather you go bareback,” I reply, knowing this will shock him. But I don’t care. “I’m on the pill. I’m clean.”

  He gives me a rueful look and continues getting the condom in place. “It’s not you that concerns me,” he remarks, checking the end of the rubber where the reservoir is, “But the asshole you were living with is another story.”

  He’s right, of course. I make a mental note to have a full check-up.

  “Just for now,” he says softly. “We’ll play it safe, okay?”

  “Fuck me,” I reply, nodding. “I want you to fuck him out of my mind.”

  He reclines back, his hands bracing my hips as he raises me up and over his torso. My hands grasp his rigid cock and I take over, spreading my legs apart, resting my weight on my knees that are braced on either side of his hips. I lean forward a bit, raise my ass up and then sink slowly down onto his cock, my well-lubed pussy is accepting his fullness and, as I settle on to him entirely, I am pleasured by the way we fit together.

  Slowly and deliberately, I ride his cock up and down using my knees to pivot me, while my hips swivel from side to side and, yes, I feel that cock ring and it is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. My eyes are closed in pleasure.

  His calloused hands are framing my hips; his thumbs are massaging my sides, setting the tempo of our fucking. I hear a series of soft moans escape me and I don’t care. This is pure, unadulterated pleasure and I’m going to milk him dry.

  “Open your eyes, Parrish,” he instructs softly, his hips rising and falling in perfect rhythm. “I need to see you. Your eyes let me see everything.”

  I allow my eyes to flutter open and the intensity of his gaze fuels the erotic moment like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I brush my hair back from my face, straightening my spine, rolling my hips.

  “Baby,” he croons, “I want you to lean forward a bit. Yeah, like that. Let your tits brush against my chest. That’s right.”

  And immediately it hits me as to why he wants me like this. Not only is my engorged clit rubbing against his pelvis, but the angle I’m in also provides a way for his Prince Albert piercing to massage the special spot I have deep inside. “Oh God, it’s so … good.”

  It’s almost too much for me to bear. My moans are coming quicker and louder. Our pace picks up. Marco is flexing his hips powerfully, rocking into me in such a way that I know I’m ready to come with a vengeance.

  I hear his sharp intake of breath and then he groans in manly pleasure as I cry out his name, over and over again. “Fuck me, Marco. Fuck me just like that! God, don’t stop,” I whine, as my clitoral orgasm unwinds, and my sweet spot begins to throb for release.

  He groans loudly and then our eyes lock as we both come together, the wet release I feel from within as my pussy contracts around him again and again is involuntary, but most welcome. This has never happened to me before!

  “Fuck,” he growls, “That’s it, angel, keep fucking my cock just like that.”

  We both moan in pleasure as we keep coming together and I know that fucking Marco is not going to be a one-time deal if I have anything to say about it.

  Finally, our orgasms wind down enough that I collapse on top of him. My skin is clammy and sensitive post-orgasm. I shiver against him and feel his strong arms wrap around me, pulling me into his warm, masculine embrace.

  His lips graze the top of my head and his hand gently brushes a couple of stray locks of hair from my face.

  “Mmm,” he breathes into my hair, “I don’t think I’m going to let you go anytime soon, Parrish.”

  I snuggle into him. “I told you I just needed to come, now let’s take our time with round two.”

  Chapter 35

  Marco drops me off at Dad’s and I slip in quietly because it’s well past midnight. The folks aren’t used to having me here, let alone coming in late after being thoroughly fucked three times!

  I giggle softly, feeling totally emancipated from Ryan and the collapse of our relationship. I had made it perfectly clear to Marco after our initial fuck, that it’s just about the sex with us. There are no expectations, no strings and no complications. It’s a KISS relationship.

  Keep. It. Simply. Sex.

  Marco is in total agreement. I mean, seriously? Both of us are in the same place at the moment – rebounding from broken relationships. So we both need uncomplicated liaisons. I’m proud that I insisted he bring me home. No overnights, either.

  My rule.

  I shower, crawl into bed and immediately fall into a deep and restful sleep. It’s been a while.

  Marco calls me the following afternoon after his meeting with Dr. Rydell. “I’m coming by to pick you up in twenty minutes. Be ready.”

  “Wait…what?”

  “What part wasn’t clear, mia caro?”

  “Uh...how about the reason you’re picking me up. Is this a booty call?”

  He chuckles good-naturedly. “Is that all you think about, Parrish?”

  My face warms with a blush.

  “I’m just leaving Dr. Rydell’s ranch. I want to fill you in on what I learned.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Dad and Sheila are still at the resort office, so I leave a note telling them I am out with Marco.

  Once in his car, he fills me in on the meeting. Apparently, there isn’t any love lost between Judge Marshall Rydell and his mother these days. They are as they say estranged. According to Marco, she hasn’t seen her son in twenty years.”

  “Why the estrangement?” I ask.

  “Apparently, Marshall is the reason his parent’s marriage hit the skids,” Marco explains. “She mentioned he had a significant problem with hallucinogens back then. She and her husband, the noted surgeon, differed on how it should be handled.”

  “Let me guess, his dad wanted to sweep it under the rug.”

  “Very good,” he replies, glancing over at me. “That’s absolutely what happened. However, she apparently got her way and sent Marshall to a rehab facility to clean up his act. He was there for a year. They divorced after he got clean. His father moved back East and Marshall went with him. He was privately schooled and then went on to Harvard for college and law school. He visited her now and then, but only to hit her up for money. Obviously, her standard of living had declined after the divorce. The last time he tried to hit her up was when he was campaigning for a circuit court judgeship. He needed funding and his father had already passed away, leaving everything to his current wife. Marshall got nothing. He pressed his mother to sell the property in Ogden, where the cabin is located and she refused. He severed ties with her then and there.”

  “Still a spoiled brat, apparently,” I reply.

  “That’s her sentiment as well.”

  “So, how did you explain your questioning her?”

  “I simply told her some new information had surfaced relative to one of Marshall’s high school friends, Cecily Adams, and it needed to be investigated. She didn’t seem shocked,” he says.

  “So she knows that you suspect Marshall?” I press.

  He glances over at me briefly. “She knows Marshall is a person of interest.”

  “And that didn’t upset her?”

  “Hell,
it didn’t even surprise her. I got the distinct impression that Dr. Rydell was almost relieved this investigation was opened after all of this time.”

  “So what now?” I ask.

  He’s heading towards Ogden. I know exactly where he’s going.

  “She gave me permission to search the log cabin. I have the key and the alarm code. The local authorities are going to meet us there to assist and record. I need you to show me where he kept his souvenirs.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Frightened?”

  I look over at him, his amber eyes are warm as he waits for me to answer. “Not exactly,” I say, “It’s just going to feel...I don’t know exactly ...kind of surreal, I guess.”

  “You know,” he replies, “There’s a good chance that stuff is still there. She mentioned she hasn’t used the place in years. She has someone nearby who takes care of repairs and the grounds, but that’s about it. She actually has her ranch up for sale. Once it’s sold, she plans on moving to Ogden. Says she wants to totally remodel the log house because nothing has been done to it since they built it back in the late sixties.”

  I find it odd that she’s held onto if for so long without using it. “That’s kind of strange,” I comment, recognizing the area and I know we’re close.

  Marco has the GPS providing directions and Siri is telling him the destination is on the right. He turns off the road and starts up the steep, curvy drive that leads up to the log home. The grounds are thick with bare trees and overgrown brush. As we near the house, I can see there’s already a Weber County Sheriff’s car waiting at the top of the drive.

  Marco shuts the car off and reaches into the back seat to grab his briefcase. Once outside the car, introductions are made. The two deputies, Gillespie and Martin, look over the signed authorization that Dr. Rydell has provided Marco.

  “Mrs. Rydell phoned ahead,” Deputy Martin says, “She said she didn’t want to be present, so let’s do it.”

  I feel Marco’s hand on the small of my back as I follow the deputies up the steps to the huge wrap-around porch. Marco has given Deputy Gillespie the house key and a piece of paper that has the security alarm code written on it.