Unclaimed (Kole Family)

by S. Brent

  He did have nipple rings, right? I wanted to see them, to taste them, play with them. I yanked at his shirt as he started to walk. His lips firmly pressed against mine. He toed off his shoes as we stumbled, lips still locked together. Our lips only separate for a moment to pull his shirt off before they slammed back together. His chest was amazing. I ran my hands over his firm torso, until I reached both nipples and rolled them between my fingers, which caused him to kiss me harder as deep sounds rumbled in through his chest. They were both pierced. I loved it.

  I heard something crash and shatter but neither of us paid it any attention. We lost our balance a little more, making my entire world spin, but he righted us.

  We didn’t make it very far. I didn’t know if this was his original destination or if he knew we’d never make it to his bedroom without severely injuring ourselves but we tumbled onto the couch. Good enough.

  He pushed my skirt up around my waist. He caressed my thighs while kissing a path from my lips to my chest as he hooked his fingers through either side of my red, lacy thong and started to slide it down while he attacked my nipple.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely as he sat back to free my legs of my panties completely. He took a second to just admire me with sexy hooded eyes, rubbing his hand through his messy hair while he let out a deep sigh.

  He was one to talk. He was even more gorgeous without his shirt on. I wanted to sit down and explore each tattoo, touch them, lick them, have him tell me about them. Did they have meaning? Why did he pick each design?

  His one arm was unquestionably a full sleeve and spread out onto his chest and up part of his neck. I wondered if it stretched out onto his back to. It was black and grey with little splashes of color. The other arm only had what I saw at the bar, the star, the pin up girl, and the clover on his hand. And his nipples were definitely pierced. I was done just enjoying my eye candy. I wanted more. I could contemplate the deeper meaning of his tattoos later.

  I crocked my finger at him to come to me and he smiled, in that sexy way I had come to appreciate from him in the short time that I knew him. He fell down over me catching himself on his elbows so he didn’t crush me, which was a possibility, but he didn’t stop his lips from crashing down over mine.

  I grabbed for the waist of his pants and started to tug. Finally, I won the battle with his button and fly. I shifted my hand inside of his boxers and stroked him. He was huge! Was this even physically possible? He jerked against my hand as his breath caught against my mouth.

  “I can’t wait,” he mumbled in a heated rush pushing his pants down and placing himself at my entrance. “So wet,” he slurred against my lips as he rubbed against my throbbing core.

  “Lincoln,” I moaned, a little proud of myself that I remembered his name. My brain was more than a little foggy from lust or alcohol, or both. “Please,” I begged as I arched up against him.

  He chuckled at me. “I’ll take care of you baby,” he growled at the side of my neck. For someone who couldn’t wait a second ago, he seemed to be doing fine to me. I opened my legs for him, wrapping them around his hips, rolling my hips up to help him. He groaned as he started to slide in. “God,” he panted, his voice tense and strained, as he began to thrust at the perfect rhythm.

  I tangled one hand in his wild hair and when he nipped at the delicate skin under my ear I cried out. His nipple rings were rubbing against my nipples as we rocked causing sensations that I didn’t even know were possible.

  I grabbed his arms and digging my nails in as he pumped into me kissing and nipping every inch of skin his lips could find. He propped himself up on one elbow and his other had slid under my ass to tip it higher.

  I screamed his name as my body erupts in wave, after wave of the most amazing orgasm ever. He shuttered as he joined me before he collapsed on top of me.

  We were covered in sweat. Neither of us breathing evenly. He shifted to the side rolling off the couch. He caught himself before he crashed to the ground and I burst out laughing, still struggling for air. He joined me. His pants and boxers were tangled around his knees causing him to trip and stumble as he tried to right himself.

  I didn’t know what standard protocol was for the aftermath of the most amazing sex I ever had with a man I didn’t know was. Should I go to sleep? On the couch? Did he have a roommate? Should I beg for round two? I wanted too. Leave? Now that the lust was starting to clear I was beginning to see what we just did on the couch, condom free in a whole new light.

  Before I could work myself up into an anxiety attack he lurched to his feet, kicking free of his pants, scooped me up in his arms, and started to carry me up the stairs, down the hall, away from the front door. We entered a room and he kicked the door shut behind us.

  He collapsed on the bed with me still in his arms. He yanked my skirt, that was still twisted around my waist, off. Then turned me so that his arm was around me and my head was resting on his chest. I draped my leg over his and he tossed a blanket over us. It was mere seconds before the alcohol and exhaustion won over and I passed out.

  Lincoln

  I woke up to the familiar sound of Xbox and screaming coming from my living room. I glanced over at my nightstand to look at my clock. It was noon. A little mewling sound came from the warm body curled up on me. Somehow during the night we shifted so she was laying on me. Her head is on my chest, those full, pouty lips only inches away from my nipple, her legs between mine.

  I looked down at the little, soft-spoken, sex kitten in my arms that had given me the best sex of my life. I had not expected that to say the least. I brought her home expecting a mediocre lay, because let’s be honest here, most of the girls you bring home for a one nighter usually weren’t that fabulous in bed. Ones I could easily part with in the morning and did but I didn’t want to part ways with her at all. I wanted another round, maybe a few.

  I was intrigued. I couldn’t remember the last time I found a girl this intriguing.

  I brushed her wild waves out of her face and she just snuggled deeper into me. She looked like a little fairy. Her long, brown hair was wildly covering her nude body. It was sexier than I could have imagined. I ran my hand up and down her side. Her skin was silk everywhere, pale, ivory silk. The little freckles on her face gave her a look of innocence that I loved, combined with her long, dark lashes, pale pink lips, and big, brown, doe eyes I knew were hiding under her closed eyelids was a deadly combination.

  I never cuddle. Never. I was not a cuddler but I wanted to with her. I wanted to hold her, this little fairy, worship her, protect her. Her breasts were rubbing against my chest and I tried to fight the morning wood I was developing. I was well satisfied when we passed out but I was ready for more. I wanted to take those little, pink nipples into my mouth and see her go crazy in my arms again, beg me to touch her, to taste her, to be in her. I was keeping this one.

  Her eyes suddenly fluttered open, her long lashes tickling my chest. She had eye make up smudged under her eyes, but it’s sexy as hell. I could wake up to this every morning. I didn’t see how this could ever get old. She smiled up at me blushing a little when she realized the position we were in and I was sure she could fell my erection pressing against her. It was hard to miss.

  “Morning,” I said. My voice was deep and husky from sleep and desire.

  “Good morning,” she said as she blushed wildly and looked away from me. Never had I found anyone blush so sweet, so enticing. After all we’d done, she had no reason to blush over anything. I liked making her blush though.

  She rubbed her head. It had to be killing her. Mine was. She looked around my room like she was seeing it for the first time, probably was. It was a mess but not dirty. I had a queen size bed, mismatched dresser with a TV on it and night stands. A drafting table in the corner covered in sketchpads with a few random drawing pinned to the walls, few dirty clothes here and there, including her skirt.

  She seemed to be contemplating something. What I wasn’t sure but I was dying to
know. Then she slipped off me and out of bed. I hadn’t even realized that she slept with her heels on. That was hot. I felt them digging in my back while I was balls deep but hadn’t even thought about taking them off before we passed out.

  She grabbed her skirt off the floor and slid it on. The collection of bracelets on her one arm jingled with every movement. She slept with those on as well.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said as I mourned the loss of her warmth next to me and the view she was starting to hide. I wanted to pull her back into bed and keep her there. I wanted to take the skirt I appreciated so much the night before and shred it.

  “Yeah, I don’t think your neighbors will take too kindly to me if I cruise out of here bare naked,” she said with a teasing smile and blushed the prettiest pink.

  I wanted to say then don’t leave but I didn’t. “Actually, I think my neighbors will love it.” It was so true. The house on the left has three teenage boys in it and the house to the right has two guys around my age. All would appreciate a naked Pru, even a fully dressed one.

  I reached for her with every intention of pulling her back to bed for a repeat performance. She dodged my hand and wrapped her arms around her to cover her bare chest. Damn.

  She scanned the room, realizing her clothes had been left in a scattered trail in the hall and around the couch. I sure she recognized the sound of men yelling at the television from beyond the door. Ha! Trapped. Maybe I could get her back in bed after all. It wouldn’t take me too long to get the skirt back off her.

  Then she looked up at me with fearful, panicked eyes and I couldn’t torture her or attempt to use this to my advantage to get her back into bed, despite how much I wanted to. There was no way I was letting her go out there minus a top.

  “Hold on,” I grumbled. I hopped out of bed, well aware of my morning wood, and pulled on a pair of pajama pants that sat low on my hips that I grabbed off the floor.

  I stepped out into the hall, making sure I shut the door behind me, shocking the hell out of myself. Normally I could care less. I did not what my friends to see her unclothed. I did not want to share my little fairy.

  “Heeyyyy,” Jonas called when he saw me. “Look who it is?” He was sitting on the couch, Xbox controller in hand, with Guy and Prat as they slaughter aliens on the screen.

  “What’s with the trail of clothes?” Guy asked.

  “What do you think?” Prat snapped and threw a pillow at him.

  “I especially like this,” Guy said as he held up Pru’s red, lacy bra. I happened to be a fan of that bra as well.

  “Give me that.” I snatched it from him and smacked him on the back of the head. I didn’t like the idea of him seeing or touching Pru’s undergarment. When did I become so possessive? I picked up my discarded shirt and jeans then found her shirt and the belt that went with it. I was still missing her panties but they were nowhere to be found.

  “And what the hell happened to the lamp?” Jonas asked. “And the table?” He was staring at the shattered lamp on the floor next to the turned over table that had a broken leg. I vaguely remember stumbling around and crashing into things. I remembered hearing something crash but not caring in the moment. Whoops. I just shrugged.

  “Not cool man, not cool,” Jonas said as he shook his head. I ran my fingers through my messy bedhead. “I was half afraid that I’d find you guys on the couch or a used condom stuck to my door.” Guy and Prat laughed.

  I ran my hand through my hair again. “Shut up,” was my only come back. I had been otherwise engaged. I went back to my room and found her sitting on my bed. She jumped up when I entered, arms still crossed over her chest. Her wavy hair was falling in wild, tangles around her, partly covering her breast and stomach. I wanted to push her hair away and replace it with my tongue.

  “Thanks,” she said quietly as she grabbed the spoils from my gathering expedition from my arms and quickly started to dress. I sat on the bed to watch her. It was strangely arousing. “Well, ummm…” she said when she was done and motioned at the door.

  “Uhhh, yeah,” I said thoroughly confused. This was the part where most women tried to linger or give me their number or get me to take them to breakfast.

  I never tried to keep one around before.

  I opened the door for her and she started to head out. I followed behind her. “So do you want to go get some breakfast?

  “No. It’s been lovely but I’ve got to go,” she mumbled in a rush.

  Wait, what? Did she just shoot me down?

  I followed her out of my room, down the hall, and toward the front door, her bracelets jingling the entire time. How had I missed how noisy they were last night?

  “Can I get you some coffee or something?”

  “I’ve had a lovely time but I should really be going.”

  Shot down twice!? I don’t know what to do with this. I have never asked a girl to stick around the next morning. Most tried to stay on their own but she seemed to be running for the hills.

  And why in the hell does she keep saying lovely? Lovely is not the word I would use to describe what happened between us. Amazing. Earthshattering. Fantastic. Remarkable. Those were words I would use to describe our previous evening. Those seemed like a better description.

  My friends all ignored her, which was probably for the best she would have been embarrassed with anything more and blushed until her she was crimson red. This girl blushed at the slightest provocation.

  “So can I get your number or something?” I asked when she reached for the doorknob. I placed my hand over hers, preventing her escape, and pulled her back against me so her back was pressed against my front. I’m not letting her go that easy. I kissed the top of her ear letting my lips linger longer then necessary. I wanted more. She shivered against me proving that she wasn’t completely unaffected by me but then shook her head.

  “I don’t think so,” she said so quietly I barely heard her. I straighten up. Excuse me?

  She turned the nob. I let her, letting go of her hand. The door creaked open a little.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked running my fingers through my hair. Had I done something wrong? Had I misread, well, everything? I thought she was into me. “Did I do something?”

  “No,” she said as she stepped out the door and turned to me. She placed her hand on my bare chest and looked up at me. For a second I thought she was going to kiss me and she did but not like I wanted her to. She leaned in and gently pressed her lips against my cheek. “No, it was… lovely… really… lovely, but I have to go,” she said softly and then turned and started to head down the steps.

  I just stood there, holding the door open, watching her walk away. What the hell just happened? Did she just turn me down? I didn’t think I had ever been turned down before.

  Lovely? What the hell did that mean? That was not lovely sex? We did not have lovely sex! We had mind blowing, amazing sex. Mind blowing amazing, sex, that I just let walk out the door. Mind blowing, amazing sex, that wasn’t interested in me and thought it had been lovely! Damn it!

  I wasn’t sure how long I stood there. I watched her walk away but I finally shut the door and headed for the couch dropping down next to my friends who were watching me closely. They watched the entire thing. They looked equally confused but were only moments away from laughing at my expense.

  “What the hell just happened?” Jonas asked me as he shoved a handful of dry cereal into his mouth. They were all just staring at me. I could hear the smile in his voice. My fairy, Prudence Kennedy Thompson was an enigma.

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly because I didn’t. Maybe my boys would have some insight. I ran my hand through my already messy hair and they all burst out laughing. I was never going to hear the end of this.

  Oh this is just lovely.

  What the fuck does lovely mean?

  Chapter 4

  Prudence

  I said good-bye to my study group and made my way to the front of campus where I arranged to meet M
aggie. Today was the day that we were going to get my tattoo. She refused to let me drive myself. I think she thought that if she left me to my own transportation I would conveniently forget or get lost. It was a definite possibility. I was a little nervous. So she drove me to school this morning and was picking me up. I felt like I was twelve.

  It was spring break at the elementary school where I was doing my student teaching so all I had was my classes this week, no teaching. It was a nice break.

  I sat on the grass, under one of the many large trees around campus and to watch for Putty Tang, Maggie’s pale blue Pilot, to make an appearance in the bus roundabout.

  I was trying not to fidget, unsuccessfully. I was horribly uncomfortable. Maggie forced me to wear jeans claiming that a skirt would be to revealing on a tattoo table. I took her word for it. She was the seasoned pro after all. So I was in jeans and a tank top with heels, of course. I refused to give up my heels. I hated jeans. They’re to conforming and abrasive on my skin.

  I had a few minutes until Maggie was due. Study group got out early.

  My mind wandered strait to Lincoln O’Neil. He was all I have been able to think about in the five days since I left his house. His messy, black hair, his silver eyes, his smirk, his tall, lean frame with his rock hard abs, his piercings, even the ink that covered parts of his body. I knew he had more tattoos then I truly processed the other night. I had been…distracted but I was curious about what I had missed, not that I’d ever see him again.

  He’d asked for my number and I straight out told him no. What was wrong with me? I had never gone home with anyone before. I didn’t know what the morning after etiquette was, so basically I just freaked out and fled. I had been so embarrassed I told him it had been lovely. I just kept saying lovely. It was like the only word in my vocabulary had been lovely. Freaking lovely.

  When I got home I shared my walk of shame with Maggie and Skyla and it was shameful. They couldn’t laugh hard enough. Apparently, telling him it was lovely was, well, ridiculous. I agreed. I froze up. I panicked and it just kind of came out.