The Playboy Bachelor

by Lynn Burke

Forcing aside thoughts that he probably told every woman that, I focused on my body and the raging desire roaring through me. The need to feel, fuck, and climax spurred me into action. I speared my fingers through the longer hair atop his head and slammed my lips against his, my hips rising and deeply impaling with each fall.

  He met me thrust for thrust, a mad scrambling lust-filled need driving us. Teeth and nails grasped for leverage, for a hold on each other as we took what we’d both been craving. His curses spewed between our hungry mouths, spurring me on harder and faster, riding him with abandon. I ground against him, my clit throbbing, taking me to the edge.

  “Oh, God.” Gasping for air, I balanced on the precipice, head thrown back, fingernails digging into Blake’s scalp.

  He wrapped his arms tight around me, thrusting so hard we almost fell to the deck. His teeth clamped onto my collarbone and I tumbled over the edge, his curse accompanying my cries. Blake pumped into me, prolonging my climax, and when he squeezed the breath from me and shouted his release, another climax slammed into me, zapping the energy from my limbs. Languid and fighting for breath, I sagged against him as aftershocks continued to twitch his body beneath me.

  “What the fuck?” he groaned, running his hands up beneath my shirt rubbing my back. His lips found my neck and nibbled, and I couldn’t find the energy to reply.

  A sigh shuddered through me as my heartbeat slowed. My hip bones ached where he’d held onto me and my scalp stung from his pulling my hair. I could have walked on water I felt so damn satisfied.

  “Did I hurt you?” he murmured into my ear, tongue flicking across my lobe.

  “No.” A shudder rippled through me as I focused on every sting, bruise, and ache. “Did I hurt you?”

  His low chuckle rumbled between us. “Honestly, I was wishing I didn’t have a shirt on so you could hurt me worse.”

  A puff of laughter left my dry lips. “You like it as rough as you give it, huh?”

  He squeezed me again. “You have no idea.”

  Oh, I had ideas running through my brain all right, but I doubted he’d give me the chance to fulfill all of those fantasies.

  Blake

  I didn’t know what the fuck to say. The little birdie had blown my mind, surprising me with her intensity, the level of passion that had bound us together. Every scrape of her teeth and bite of her nails into my scalp still tingled my skin as though she’d branded me.

  I wanted her again. Once would never be enough.

  The thought scared the shit out of me. A love ‘em and leave ‘em playboy exactly as she’d claimed, I’d rarely lingered beyond the first fuck.

  Wren, though, I wanted to undress her, burrow into her body and mind. Fuck every orifice, lay claim to every inch of her skin.

  Fuck, did I want her.

  She sat in the prow of the boat, face turned toward shore as I steered us through the darkness, soft moonlight highlighting her honey-brown hair falling in waves over her shoulders.

  Not one for words beyond getting into a girl’s pants, I chewed the inside of my lip, contemplating. I came up short. Empty.

  I docked, and ten minutes later we climbed into my car, still silent.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” I finally said, unable to stand the quiet between us.

  “That was … intense.”

  “Yeah.”

  She turned toward me, gaze searching my face. “It’s been almost two years for me, but I can honestly say you were the best I’ve had.”

  The tension eased from my shoulders and I relaxed back into the leather driver seat. “That a fact?” I asked, grinning like a fool.

  “Cocky prick.”

  I laughed and reached over to squeeze her thigh. “Have dinner with me tomorrow?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “My place,” I pushed. “Let me cook for you.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but she smirked. “The playboy wants to fuck the same girl two nights in a row?”

  “Little wild birdie, I could fuck you seven days straight and not grow bored.”

  She snorted with laughter, her ‘yeah right’ barely reaching my ears, but if she knew the truthful words had escaped unfiltered…

  Damn, I’m fucking screwed.

  Wren

  I agreed to meet him at his place for dinner. Why not enjoy another bite of his luscious mouth and skin before being tossed aside for the next woman? Might as well soak up every second of his attention, savor every look and touch. Besides, while riding him had given me the climax I’d dreamed about, I wanted to wrap my legs around him and squeeze the life from him while scratching and biting.

  Legs trembling, I climbed into the elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor of the new condo building he’d built the year before. The doors slid open to reveal a hallway that still smelled like fresh paint and new carpet with a hint of lemon.

  Designed specifically to his desires, the top floor of the tower housed only three condos, the largest being his own overlooking the river and ocean beyond, he’d told me the night before.

  Blake answered my knock, hair damp and mussed, a blue button down hanging untucked over dark jeans. His bedroom eyes glinted in the dimmed lights, like blue sapphires in the sun. “Come on in, little birdie,” he said, stepping back.

  I moved past him, purse clutched in front of me, giving the open concept condo a quick glance. Leather and metal, white on white with blue accents.

  Blake wrapped his arm around me, pulling me in for a side squeeze, capturing my full attention. “Hey.”

  “Hey back.” I smiled up at him, soaking in the light spattering of freckles I’d never noticed before across his nose and cheekbones.

  He leaned down and brushed his lips across mine—our first kiss without demanding lust.

  My heart fluttered, and I pulled back, needing to distance myself from the emotion creeping up. “Dinner smells great.” I moved into the dining area, noting the candles and bottle of wine on ice.

  “Hope you like scallops,” Blake said, heading into the stainless and granite kitchen.

  “Love them.”

  “Why don’t you pour the wine and I’ll plate up our food.”

  Dim flickering candlelight, low music. Laughter and intense stares promising a good fuck in my future, I lost the battle against keeping things casual.

  We sat at the table, a bottle of wine empty, plates scraped clean, the sexual tension clashing between us.

  “Dance with me,” he said, pushing to his feet and holding out his hand.

  I’d rather get right to the fucking, I thought, but I took his hand anyway, cursing myself with every erotic sway of our tightly pressed bodies. His hard cock pressed against my belly, his large hand palmed my ass.

  I dug my fingernails into the back of his neck, closed my eyes, and leaned my forehead against his rock-like chest. He smelled ten times better than chocolate; woodsy, sexy man … I wanted a bite. “You drive me insane.” I heard myself whisper.

  Blake’s other hand palmed my ass, and he lifted me higher.

  My legs wrapped around his waist and squeezed as our mouths crashed together. His groans filled my ears as his fingers dug into my backside. I’d bruise for sure, I thought, pulling his hair to angle his head so I could bite his lower lip.

  “Fuck,” he gasped as I bit harder. He ground his cock against my soaked core, and I repeated his curse over the fact clothing separated our bodies. His mouth released from my hold, Blake kissed along my jaw, down my neck, and back up to my ear as I squirmed in his hold. He bit my earlobe, and I winced, my panties useless to contain my arousal.

  “I want to fuck you, Wren. Right here. Right now.”

  I shimmied out of his arms, and he tugged my tank top off. In my rush to get his shirt open, I heard a few buttons ping off the furniture as they flew. Holy shit, his bare chest. I licked across one pec and bit the hard nub on the other.

  “Goddamn it, woman.” He all but ripped off my skirt, the material floating to the floor.

&n
bsp; Panting—heaving for breath—we stepped apart, hungry gazes drinking in the other. His eyes set my skin aflame, and I swallowed, nails digging into my palms, as I studied every curve and indent of his sinful upper body. The luscious V of muscle disappearing beneath his jeans flooded my mouth with drool and my pussy with cream.

  “Lose the jeans,” I said, my voice raspy and low.

  “Lose the bra and panties,” he replied, reaching for his zipper.

  A quick rustle of clothing and we both stood naked, his jutting cock drawing my gaze. “Condom,” I whispered, every inch of my body thrumming.

  Blake fished one from the back pocket of his jeans, ripped it open, and rolled it on. Two steps forward, and he tangled a hand in my hair, his other hand gripping my thigh to hoist me up.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist and wiggled around, trying to line up his cock with my dripping core. He attacked my mouth, striding across the room.

  My back slammed into a wall, ripping a gasp from me, but Blake swallowed the noise and thrust into me, balls deep and perfect.

  Mouths meshed together, our simultaneous groans lost, we fucked hard and fast, my spine bruising from the drywall against my back. He rammed up into me time and again as I tried like hell to dig furrows into his back. Sweat broke out over his shoulder blades, and I clung onto the hard muscles, drinking in every grunt and groan from his lush mouth.

  He bit down on my tongue. “Come for me,” he said, not losing his teeth’s hold.

  Tingles lit in my toes, swept up to my belly, and my climax exploded, ripping a scream from my chest.

  Blake thrust into me, hand wrapped in my hair, pulling my head back. “Again, baby.” His teeth sunk into my neck, and I did.

  Blake

  Her tight pussy gushed around my cock, her cum dripping off my balls. I clenched my jaw to keep from blowing my load and fucked her until she shuddered one final time. Still fully embedded and aching, I carried her across the living room and into my bedroom.

  My back stung from where she scratched the shit out of me, but the searing pain felt good. I laid Wren on the edge of the bed, still lodged deep in her heat, her legs in a death grip around my waist. Standing, I stared down at how her perfect pink folds devoured my cock. So perfect, so fucking mind bending, I decide to push.

  I rocked back on my heels, withdrawing slow and easy, the sight of her cream all over my cock and balls more satisfying than anything I’d ever accomplished.

  She whimpered and grabbed hold of the down comforter beneath her.

  “Like that, baby?” I ask, taking my time sliding back into her tight heat.

  “God, yes.”

  I pulled out again, and Wren lifted her hips to meet me as I buried my cock into her sopping pussy. Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight filtering in from the windows overlooking the ocean. Forcing myself to go slow, to build her back up for what I wanted, I ran my hands along her thighs, my thumbs brushing across her clit.

  She jerked on the bed, head turning to the side.

  “Look at me,” I said, and she opened her eyes. I flicked and pinched her clit, but without enough pressure to send her over. Needing more, I grasped her breasts and squeezed to the point of pain. Her back arched into my hold, mouth parting on a deep moan.

  Fucking perfect.

  I thrust harder into her core, and her moan morphed into a rumbling groan. My body felt like it was on fire. Sweat dripped down my chest, and I picked up the pace, knowing my balls wouldn’t take much more torture.

  Wren stared up at me as I wrapped my hands lightly around her throat. When no complaint rose, I thrust deep and hard, putting more pressure on her neck. She grabbed onto my ass and dug her nails in.

  Green. Fucking. Light.

  Controlling my hold on her smooth neck, I allowed my cock to try fucking her in half, one knee coming up to rest on the bed for better leverage.

  “One last time,” I said, gaze locked on her eyes. “Give me one more.”

  The wet sounds of our bodies slapping together, my balls drawn up tight, Wren’s mouth parted as she shattered again beneath me.

  Heaven, I thought, as I erupted.

  Seconds later, I collapsed on top of her like a dead man. Knowing Wren had to be crushed beneath my weight, I forced my body to roll after a minute, slipping from her body, but pulling her against my side. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, but I was wrong the other night.”

  My heart slowed. “About what?”

  “That was the best fuck of my life.”

  I laughed and squeezed her tight with a one-armed hug. Her arm flopped across my stomach, a leg over my thigh.

  Catching my breath, eyes closed, I contemplated what had happened between us. The first woman to not be scared by how far I wanted to experiment, the only woman’s eyes to go dark with lust rather than fear as I squeezed her neck.

  Some weird … emotion … sprang to life in my chest. Contentment, I thought, a feeling I’d never experienced with a woman before. The want for something real swept over me, sending a tingle of fear up my spine and raising the hairs on my neck.

  Without a word, I untangled myself from her limbs and went into the bathroom to clean up.

  When I returned with a warm wet towel, I found Wren fast asleep, mouth parted and hand beneath her cheek.

  Desire and anxiety warred, but I chose to let her sleep.

  Fifteen minutes later, dishes clean and candles blown out, I pulled another blanket out of the linen closet to cover Wren. She sighed in her sleep and snuggled into the comforter.

  I went back out to the couch and sprawled on my back, forearm over my eyes, my mind racing over the deep shit I found myself wading through.

  ****

  I woke to the scent of coffee. Sitting up, I found Wren dressed in her clothes from the night before, slouched at my table, mug in hand, sleepy-eyed, and hair a mess.

  No woman has ever looked better, I thought, my stomach knotting. I need to get her the hell out of here.

  Scrubbing a hand over my head and along the stubble on my jaw, I walked into the kitchen, shorts doing nothing to hide my morning wood, and grabbed a mug from the cabinet. “How’d you sleep?” I asked, pouring steaming coffee into my cup.

  “Like the dead.” Her voice sounded closed off, and a glance at her face revealed nothing but bland blah.

  “The zombie kind?” I asked with a snicker, trying to keep things light.

  “The dead, dead kind.”

  “Glad to hear it.” I sipped, wondering how to get her gone without being the rude prick I normally didn’t mind portraying on mornings after.

  “I’ve got a shitload of studying to do today, so I hope you don’t mind if I jet?”

  “Sure. Yeah.” I sat my mug on the counter as she stood and grabbed her purse.

  Well, shit. I’d gotten exactly what I wanted, so why the stab of disappointment?

  “I’ll see you on Monday.” I heard myself say while pulling open the front door. And here, I’d been trying to think up an excuse to not bring her a picnic breakfast.

  Wren leaned up to kiss my cheek real quick. “See ya.”

  “See ya.” I stood in my doorway, uncaring of my tented shorts, watching the elevator door close behind her. My chest ached, and I scratched, stifling a yawn with my other hand.

  What the fuck?

  I turned and closed the door, uneasy over the contradicting thoughts and feelings.

  ****

  Twice during the week I brought Wren coffee and cinnamon rolls, and both mornings she seemed surprised to see me. I enjoyed her company a hell of a lot more than I wanted to. Only thirty-two, I figured I had plenty of time for more wild oat sowing before needing to settle down with one woman for the rest of my life. I wasn’t ready for a ball and chain. Didn’t keep me from wanting her.

  Friday night rolled around, and I opened my condo’s door, pulled Wren in, and fucked her against the wall, skirt in a bunch around her waist, panties pushed to the side. Dinner, another round of mo
nkey sex on the table, and we finished off the night with a long fuck in the shower that almost killed me.

  Gouges lined my back and two hickies—one on my pec, the other on my thigh—battle scars purpled from hours spent fighting for control. And, fuck me, did I like it. Even more satisfying was the knowledge her body carried more bruises and teeth marks than mine.

  She loved it. Got off more than any woman I’d known.

  My little fucking nympho.

  I hated that I wanted her again. Even more, I hated the fact she split as I slept, without a note or anything.

  ****

  Later that afternoon, I met Reid at Harper’s Point job site. Someone had jumped the chain link fence and emptied a few cans of spray paint on the walls we’d raised the week before. Since there was no real damage done, I didn’t bother calling the police.

  “Let’s go grab some beers,” Reid said as I locked the useless gate behind me.

  I glanced over at the old Victorian and Wren’s car. “Let me stop in to see if Wren saw anything whatever the hell time she got home.”

  “Bailed on ya, huh?”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  Reid laughed. “Lighten up, jackass.”

  “I like her too much and can’t fucking handle it.”

  “Then invite her along.”

  Stopping, I half-turned toward my friend. “Just for beers and burgers?”

  A smile I knew well flashed his teeth. “For whatever the hell she wants. Just might put that distance you want between you.”

  “Good idea.” Great one, actually, I thought while crossing the road, Reid on my heels. Wren and I had gotten a little too comfy with each other the night before—after-sex kisses slow and lingering.

  Not my style.

  I stomped up the stairs, unsure if anger or excitement of seeing Wren twisted my stomach.

  Wren

  I watched Blake and Reid out my kitchen window, worrying my lip. The night before had been the best of my life. Satiated, sore, and emotions no longer under lock and key thanks to Blake’s moments of tenderness and languid caresses, I’d snuck out not long after he fell asleep beside me on the bed.