All She Wants

by Larkin Rose

  She kneed her legs apart, teased her slick opening, and then smoothly entered her.

  “Mmmm.” The woman dug her head into the bed.

  Marci pumped into her, arching with every stroke, driving deep, needing to be deeper, until her mystery woman tightened, her orgasm close to the edge.

  Then she slowed her pace and the woman growled in objection.

  Over and over, Marci continued the torture. Taking her to the cliff, pulling her back from the abyss, only to push her right back to the border.

  Those sounds. Like erotic chords of music that reached down deep. Like something stirring her soul. It was incredible, actually. She didn’t want them to stop, yet she did.

  “Please. I’m begging.” The woman groaned.

  Marci couldn’t hold back any longer. She wanted this woman coming and screaming. And if she was lucky, she’d get to do it all over again before she stepped out of her life just as fast as she’d stepped into it.

  Marci withdrew and dragged the woman onto her lap to straddle her. She quickly re-entered her.

  The woman whimpered as Marci fucked her, as she palmed her ass, spreading her, controlling her, encouraging her to ride faster.

  And she did. Faster. Rising and falling, Marci filling her, until her orgasm shattered and she screamed out.

  Marci closed her eyes against the raw sound and lights burst behind lids.

  She pumped around Marci’s fingers and cocooned Marci’s head in her arms.

  Her heart jackhammered and her insides squeezed as she drove hard inside her, fucking her, already desperate for more of those sexual sounds.

  Just when the spasms simmered, Marci rolled her backward on the bed, still inside her, still fucking her, and then swallowed her final cries of release.

  Minutes passed while Marci’s mystery goddess clenched around her fingers and finally, she went limp, her lips still locked with Marci’s, those arms still cradled around her head.

  Her insides spasmed in reaction to the woman’s convulsive orgasm. Dear God, the sounds were going to forever haunt her.

  No matter what, she had to learn this woman’s name. She didn’t know why. Just that she had to know it.

  She fell onto her side. “You ready to tell me your name?”

  The woman opened her eyes and turned a playful smile on Marci. “We are past names, aren’t we? Besides, I kind of like the one you gave me.”

  Marci didn’t like sounding desperate. Fact was, she was very close. She wanted to repeat this woman’s name in her mind later, when she was masturbating to the memories, when something other than her doomed life had control of her thoughts.

  For months, finding and fucking women had come easy for her. She held no further intentions for them past the sexual encounter. She could have spent the entire night not knowing their name. This one. The one beside her, who felt so alive writhing from every touch, she wanted to remember this one’s name. Only this one. She wanted to think about her and smile while her name drifted past her lips.

  Marci dragged the tip of her finger around the woman’s nipple. “How long are you on vacation?”

  “I’m not on vacation.”

  Marci propped her head in her hand and continued the path around the opposite nipple. “Just passing through?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Are you deliberately being mysterious?” Marci pinched her nipple and watched as the woman’s lips parted. For some reason, it thrilled her to know that she had the power to wield some control in this otherwise puzzling woman.

  If only she could sway the name out of her mouth.

  “I’m on a mission.” The woman rolled Marci onto her back then straddled her hips. She ground down hard. “And you’re nosy.”

  Marci grabbed her hips and slowly bucked into her.

  Goddamn, this woman was sexy. And she came so well. Marci wanted to make her do it again.

  If only she knew her damn name.

  “What kind of mission?” Marci resisted flipping the woman onto her back again.

  She wanted to be back inside her, drawing out those incoherent babbles of release. As disturbing as the fact was, she missed being inside her. Wanted to take control of every pant, whimper, and whine.

  “To spread my wings.” She opened her arms to the side, closed her eyes, and let her head fall back. “And fly.”

  Marci watched in awed fascination. Her nipples were hard, erect, pleading for Marci to taste them. She looked downright delicious with her dark hair spilling out over her shoulders.

  Unable to keep her hands off such a delectable opportunity, Marci ran her hands across her stomach, along the slender shape of her ribs, and cupped her breasts.

  She leaned forward, needing flesh in her mouth again. To hear the sounds she knew she could create. To experience the sounds she’d yet to create.

  With a gentle suckle, she drew the woman’s nipple into her mouth.

  Fingers immediately wove into her hair, gentle at first, then tighter, forming a fist, and slowly she pulled Marci back until she loosened her hold.

  She put her hand on Marci’s chest and shoved her back on the bed, held her in place, and then ground down over her.

  Harder, she circled those hips, arching, grinding harder, her lips parted, her breaths ragged, fucking herself on Marci.

  Marci fisted those undulating hips tighter in her grip, positive she’d never seen anything more beautiful. Anything more carefree.

  “Make me come again, Marci.”

  She wanted nothing else in the world more than she wanted to do just that. To make this woman come all over again.

  Marci leaned forward, wrapped her arm around her waist, and flipped the woman onto her back.

  Hastily, she leaned back, jerked at the button and zipper of her own jeans, needing her skin heating against this woman’s skin, and worked them down and off her legs.

  When she looked back down, lust and need danced in the woman’s eyes.

  God help her, she wanted to crawl inside her. The need was so great it made her ache.

  She tugged her shirt and sports bra over her head then hovered over her.

  The woman reached for her. “No more questions. Just fuck me.”

  Marci pushed her hand between them, teased her slick opening, and then drove inside her.

  The woman instantly arched back, her hips dancing and grinding, and fisted her fingers back into Marci’s hair like they belonged there, like she needed some sort of solid connection.

  The same way Marci needed some kind of connection.

  She’d never felt anything like it. This unwavering throb. This awakening from somewhere so deep she hadn’t even known it existed.

  Wendy would be thrilled to know that such an emotion still existed.

  But the fact that she’d found it once again, something even stronger, scared her even more.

  She didn’t want to feel anything. Didn’t want a throb or an ache. Nothing. She wanted nothing.

  Feeling anything only led to one place. Darkness. Heartbroken darkness.

  So she did exactly as the woman requested.

  She fucked her.

  All night.

  And soon, she no longer wanted to know her name.

  Chapter Four

  Wendy wiggled excitedly in her office chair. For an hour, she and Marci had been going over final key components of the contest.

  It had been determined earlier in the planning stages, that each team would start the marathon with fairly easy clients. That way, each crew was on a level playing field. They would prove their strengths and weaknesses and the point value accumulated at the end of the first week would determine which team would have access to the stunning lodge at the top of the mountain for the next client. The lodge that resembled a mansion. Eight bedrooms, indoor heated pool, Jacuzzi on a covered deck overlooking the valley, and a home theater. The house had everything a person could want or need while snowed in.

  Marci had to admit it had been a little slice of heaven o
n the few nights she and Wendy had invited friends and family for the weekend. She’d imagined owning something just as remarkable one day.

  That was until she’d chased a skirt down the map to a living hell on earth.

  With a mental groan, she shoved the thoughts away. Not today. Not when she was minutes away from becoming the middleman for eight group leaders who would find out quickly that Marci was only there to make their phone calls. To make their needed reservations. Not be their friend. Or their counselor. Or anything, for that matter. To just make those damn phone calls. Nothing more. Absolutely nothing more.

  “The remaining teams will get the other lodges in order of their scorecards,” Wendy concluded.

  “And the photographers? You said some crews didn’t have their own? Meaning, you have assigned one to those crews.” Marci hoped the question was legit and one she hadn’t already asked while her thoughts continued to warp to a nameless goddess.

  She couldn’t stop the images from rolling through her mind. Hoped she got to experience that raw, unfiltered sex again. Of course, not with the mystery woman. She’d made her intentions clear. That she didn’t want Marci to know her. Not even her name.

  “Correct. We didn’t get enough participants for each team to have their own. So the resort hired the missing photographers and they will double as the client’s photographer as well as take group shots for social media. At the end of each week, if that team is still standing, they turn over one photo and a synopsis of the team’s work for the weekly blog. Zoe from KDOX promised to report highlights every Monday.” Wendy added a little wiggle in her seat. “So even for the teams that are eliminated, someone can still get a job opportunity. It might not be the golden prize, but it will be a step above whatever their profession is. Isn’t that fantastic?”

  The fact that Wendy was looking out for the losers didn’t surprise Marci. Wendy always thought outside the box. She thought far ahead. She was always like that. Always pushing people to be all they could be. Always wanting to see people achieve, even when they failed. Like she was still doing with Marci. Pushing her to get back out there. Not to let Ashley have the final laugh.

  Truth was, Ashley hadn’t gotten that final laugh. Because the game wasn’t over yet. Marci still held the deed to the house. The house that she had at first gotten to call her own, and then soon got to call theirs. She was still holding out for the perfect offer. Not out of spite, but out of greed.

  When she signed those closing papers, she would get back every dime she put in thanks to Ashley deciding that she didn’t want her name on the title, that she was only keeping her apartment so her roommate could continue to stay there, even years after they moved in together. That should have been the first red flag for Marci. That Ashley hadn’t completely committed herself. That after eleven years, she still held a lease in her name.

  In the end, Marci was thankful for that little piece of help. For that reason, she would get to keep the entire sale price. She was owed at least that.

  And then, she would finally close the doors on that part of her life.

  Until then, she was going to sit back and let Ashley think any damn thing she wanted. One thing being that Marci wasn’t selling because deep down, she wanted Ashley back. That soon, she would move back to Arizona. Or so Wendy had concluded. Numerous times.

  “I’m so excited I can barely contain myself. This is going to bring so much publicity to the resort.”

  Marci gave her a side glance. “Yes. Because people crowding my space is exactly what I need.”

  “Hey, you’re the one who offered. And if you so much as hint that you’re going to take it back, I swear I’ll send a sappy, I miss you so much and want you back text to that loser you call an ex. From your phone.”

  Marci scoffed. “You are the devil.”

  “No. Just desperate. And vengeful.” Wendy pursed her lips and blew an air kiss.

  “Don’t worry. With or without your evil intentions, I’ll behave with your precious misfits.”

  “Why the gloomy face, cupcake? Didn’t find a piece of ass in that little bar of yours over the weekend?”

  Oh, how she’d found a piece of ass. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Wishing she could go back in time so she could start those hours all over again.

  This still thinking, days later, was out of character. For so long, she’d wanted to feel something. Anything. Something to indicate there was still life on the inside. Now, she couldn’t stop feeling. Her insides tightened with just the thought of the woman, how she’d screamed her name, the sounds of her, the feel of her. She just couldn’t stop. Not even with the conference room down the hall already starting to fill up with contestants, all she saw was the woman’s parted lips. All she could feel was the drive of her hips.

  Dammit. Why hadn’t she asked more questions? Like, when she might be back in town. If she’d like to get together again. If she’d like to fuck again. And then again. And again.

  “Earth to you.” Wendy snapped her fingers.

  Marci lifted her chin. “Don’t I always find what I want?”

  Wendy rolled her eyes. “If that’s what floats your boat. Truthfully, I’d rather see you crushing out again. You know, pretending you’re alive and not dead. Dating. Actually smiling.”

  Marci adored how much Wendy cared about her. How often she voiced those concerns. But it was getting rather old. It wasn’t up to Wendy to decide when she should get over her failed marriage. When she should get over finding her wife of eleven years in the bed with a fucking pubescent.

  “I’m not dead, Wendy.” Marci attempted a smile. “Just doing things my way. For now.”

  Wendy reached out and squeezed her arm. “I’m sorry for being such a mom. Maybe this contest will keep me off your case. For now.”

  “One can pray.” Marci winked.

  “And thanks again for stepping up to help me. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t thank me just yet. The first leader to come bitching on my doorstep could have this whole contest crashing down around your ears.” Marci playfully drew a finger across her throat to imitate a knife.

  “Don’t kill your second chance, woman. I’ve worked my ass off to polish this silver platter.” Wendy pushed away from the desk before Marci could inquire what that statement meant. “Ready to go meet these contestants?”

  Marci stood. “Ready, boss.”

  “This is going to be so much fun!”

  “Let’s do it.” Marci opened the door and allowed Wendy to exit first, while dirty images of hot sex with her mystery woman danced through her mind.

  Her nameless mystery woman.

  * * *

  Tessa’s nerves attempted to unravel as she waited with her crew in the middle section of the conference room.

  She’d deliberately introduced herself to practically everyone in the room until she found her entire team, wanting her rivals to remember her face, to see that she wasn’t afraid, and that she was coming straight for each of them.

  And so far she was super impressed with her crew members.

  Hunter, who was a wedding photographer hired by Wendy and the resort to capture candid shots but would also double as the client’s employee to collect pictures for their vacation. He had dabbled in sport shots for his niece’s volleyball team as well as a few NBA teams and wanted to make a career out of his talents one day. He had a sweet smile and didn’t appear to be nervous at all.

  Then there was Sally who had been working as a decorator and occasional planner for several years and even pulled off an event for a well known NFL player, with over four hundred people in attendance.

  Tessa was impressed. That kind of event had to take skills, and she was proud to have her on the team.

  However, Sally was a talker. A mile a minute, she carried on about everything, right down to finding her kitten, Sam Adams, in a sewage drain, how she’d nursed him back to health, and now he was the love of her life. Minus her ample guy friends who offer
ed tons of benefits, she’d added with a wicked grin.

  If Tessa could focus all that energy to their tasks, she’d be unstoppable.

  And then there was Danny, an assistant wedding planner in a small town venue. He and his best friend had applied for the job on a dare when they were in college and when the owner had taken him on a tour of the grounds, he kind of liked the idea of helping to make someone’s dream wedding come to life and was shocked that he had a knack for organizing and keeping things on task.

  But she was most impressed with Seth. A caterer for a five-star restaurant in Washington. Even catered events at the White House, though he regretted he’d never gotten the chance to meet Obama. He had dabbled in decorating, his exact words, when in fact he’d spent an entire summer in Europe taking decorator classes. Also, he took a floral design class in Chicago, just because he was bored while visiting family members. And if that wasn’t punishment enough, he was a part-time substitute teacher for an elementary school. He said if he could handle a classroom of tiny assholes, he could sure as hell handle a bridezilla. He indeed had a point as Tessa had seen toddlers act better than a few of her own brides.

  Best of all, Seth had a vibrant smile, loving aura, and was super positive about their upcoming clients.

  She knew they were going to go far in this event. Unless some of the other teams could top the talent she had on her squad, she doubted they would hold a candle to them.

  And then she had herself. Who had been on top of the wedding venue game for more years than she’d like to admit. Planning weddings and events, even small birthday parties, was in her blood, handed down from their mother who had started out helping brides part-time. When her girls were too little for school but cleaning dust bunnies and toilets wasn’t active enough for her. From the time she was a toddler, Tessa had been molded into this world. From a very small age, their mother had woven their lives into creating events for others, helping to pick out the perfect colors, how to find the best cake decorators, how to transform an ordinary table into a work of art. She didn’t have a venue. She didn’t have a business card. But she had taught her children how to find out what people wanted, and go five steps beyond their desires. Do the things they never thought possible. And never take no for an answer.