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Lip Service - GOOGLE Page 9

by Virna DePaul


  “That’s not what I’m trying to be.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Just, it’s obvious you have some preconceived notions about Hunter Kiss. Just like I have them about you. I’m wondering if we can start fresh. Get to know each other without assumptions getting in the way. Dinner and a movie sounds like a pretty safe way to start, don’t you think?”

  She stares at me, movement behind her eyes, and I’d love to know what she’s thinking, but I already put myself out there and don’t want to push my luck.

  “Fine,” she finally huffs. “But I’m not watching a chick flick.”

  * * *

  She almost looks uncomfortable, her eyes shifting, searching the fine establishment that is Burger Shack, a retro throwback to diners of the long-forgotten past.

  “Do you want to go somewhere else?” I question, sensing that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. It seemed like the perfect date in my head, but maybe I’m wrong about her. Maybe she was expecting to be wined and dined.

  “No.” She shakes her head. “I just… I’m a little surprised you’d come here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not fancy. It’s—”

  “Hey, I love luxury, but I also love a simple burger, thin cut fries, an occasional Rocky Road Milkshake, and the ambience of chill music.”

  “You keep on surprising me, Mr. Kiss.” She picks up the tall menu and looks it over, all the while hiding her face behind the plastic brochure. In seconds, she places the menu flat against the table. “I’m definitely getting the Guacamole Burger.”

  “Great choice.” I stack my menu on top of hers. “I think I’ll have the same.”

  “You’re so original.”

  “Hey, my date has good taste.” I suddenly stand and slide into the seat beside her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We’re on a date, right? I like the idea of sitting next to my date rather than across from her.”

  “Hmmm. You just don’t seem like the dating type to me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s not forget that the first time I met you, you had sent a young blonde woman into a fit of crying rage.”

  “Ah-ha.” I nod. “I knew you’d throw that in my face again eventually.”

  “It’s not throwing it in your face to point out that you have a history of being a dick.”

  “Touché. You’re not like Amy, you know.”

  “Oh, I know that. Believe me.” She slaps her hip, obviously referencing their width.

  I frown. “Knock it off.”

  Her eyes widen and she blushes. “Sorry. Habit.”

  And I’m determined to break her of the habit.

  “So why am I not like Amy?” she asks.

  “Because this thing between us—whatever it is between us—is not casual. Not to me.”

  Even I’m surprised by my words, but the amazing thing is, I don’t feel the need to take them back. Instead, I reach out and take her hand in mine. She cocks her head then smiles warmly, the kind of smile that launches my cock into a jean-clad erection.

  I shift against the leather bench seating and try to adjust myself without making too much of a scene. I clear my throat as I offer her a simple smile right back, but my imagination betrays me. I imagine having my way with her right here in the middle of this busy diner, or perhaps somewhere a little more private, like a bathroom in the back.

  I drop her hand and place my hand on her inner thigh. She moans softly as I inch toward her pussy, but then she lays her hand over mine.

  Her hand is saying stop, but her eyes are screaming, fuck me.

  From behind me, I hear the clattering of plates and out of the corner of my eye, I see our server carrying our food to our table.

  “Food’s here.” I pull away from her and turn my attention to the middle-aged server with glasses and stringy black hair. “Thank you,” I say as she slides the two plated meals onto the table with guacamole dripping from the sides of the hamburger. “Now, Dani Cross, prepare for your life to change.”

  * * *

  The lights darken, bass thumps from the speakers adorning the walls on either side of us, and the crowd grows silent as the film begins. Some stupid horror film about a man killing kids in their dreams, sounds kind of familiar but there’s not exactly an original thought left in Hollywood these days.

  Lightning flashes across the screen, illuminating the theater, illuminating Dani’s pale, beautiful face. There’s something so maddening about being in a theater with a sexy ass woman in the dark, surrounded by people. It’s the sense of voyeurism; you go to the theater to watch movies, but also to watch people.

  It’s one of my favorite hobbies in my spare time.

  Right now, all I can focus on is Dani and how badly I want her.

  Fuck, I think to myself, my erection pulsing against my jeans. I’m not going to be able to wait until the end of the date, the end of the night. I need Dani, and I need her now.

  I pull up the cup holder between Dani and myself. She eyes me curiously for a moment before turning her attention back to the screen. I throw one arm around her shoulder, which she doesn’t fight, and pull her closer to me.

  We stay this way for the first third of the movie, but my cock won’t rest at ease. At one point, she accidentally nudges my erection with her elbow, pulls away from me, and shakes her head with a gentle smile. “Seriously?” She scolds me in a hushed whisper. “You are embarrassing.”

  “Please,” I scoff lowly and lean into her to whisper in her ear. “Don’t pretend like you don’t get off on the thought of people watching.”

  She rolls her eyes, but I know on some level that I’m right. As soon as her eyes are back on the screen, I drop my hand against her inner thigh and I caress a path up her thigh until I’m palming her pussy through her jeans with one hand.

  She lets out a hot exhale, her chest heaving ever so slightly. In seconds, she places her hand on my cock. For the next few minutes, she continues to watch the movie, all the while slowly pumping my cock through my jeans. I continue to tease her with my hand, creeping slowly to the button of her jeans and popping it with ease.

  She swallows a nervous breath, cranes her head slightly to the couple five seats down. They’re not paying attention, they’re too lost in what’s happening on the screen.

  It’s a tight fit, but I push my hand into her jeans and underneath her panties. Her feet dig into the floor as I caress my palm against her pussy, hot and ready. I want to pull her onto my lap and fuck her right here.

  “Fuck,” I groan in her ear. “We should have watched that chick flick. Nobody would be in there watching that shit.”

  “Shut up,” she says in a low, breathless whisper, and tilts her head back gently against the back of the seat. I curl my middle finger and push into her opening.

  She lets out a low, but embarrassing squeal.

  She freezes in place.

  I freeze in place.

  She cocks her eyes to me, fire and hunger swirling in their dark depths. “We should go,” she whispers.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hunter

  My shirt is on the floor as soon as we burst into my penthouse suite, undressing each other without even caring that the front door is still open. She makes quick work of her jeans, pushing them to the floor in a rushed hurry and immediately rips her shirt over her head before reaching behind her back and disposing of a pink bra that matches her panties.

  I’m left standing in nothing but tight boxer briefs.

  She races toward me.

  I race toward her.

  Our bodies meet somewhere between the door and the marble pillar that separates the living area from the kitchen. My momentum is too great, my lust for her out of this world. When our bodies hit, I continue pushing her backward until her body lands against the cool marble pillar.

  My lips fall to her collarbone where I kiss a path up to her neck before nibbling on he
r ear. I leave a trail of hot wetness on her flesh until finally cradling her face on either side with my hands while I stare into the deep abyss of her eyes.

  And I kiss her.

  Really fucking kiss her.

  Devour her lips first, and then her tongue. My cock pushes hard against the thin fabric of my underwear, threatening to tear a hole in them. I drop a hand low to her pussy and palm her through her pink panties.

  She moans, groans, so I press my lips against hers to steal her breath as I continue to taunt her. She’s wet now, warm juices leaking through the thin fabric and I want nothing more than to fuck her brains out against this pillar, against the floor-to-ceiling windows, in my bedroom, in the shower. At this very moment, I think I could spend the rest of my life buried deep inside her hot, tight pussy.

  I kiss her once more, nibble against her neck.

  When I take a step back, I just about lose my shit. This is an image I want to remember. This is an image I can’t forget. It’s like an old school Playboy photo opportunity. Her body, so fucking curvy and beautiful standing in nothing but bright pink panties complementing the pink locks of hair that fall over her shoulder and against the top of her taut breasts.

  She spins in a half-circle, pulls her hair above her head in a pony tail and cranes her head over her shoulder with the sexiest fucking smirk I’ve ever seen. My eyes shift to the tattoo sleeve on her right arm first, and then the inked, watercolor sun permanently etched into her back.

  This girl really has no idea what she’s capable of doing to me, but she’s much more confident than ever before, and that just about makes me lose my nut right about now.

  She drops her hands to her panties, her dark hair with pink highlights falling against her back and dipping over the watercolor ink. She forces me to watch her as she drops her panties down her curves, down her legs until they pool on the floor. She steps out of them and before I know it, I’m back at her, dropping to my knees and forcing her to turn to me.

  She combs her fingers through my hair as I flick my tongue against her wet opening. Her knees threaten to buckle. It’s as if she’s holding onto me for dear life, and I’m not about to complain.

  “Ah, fuck,” she moans, her fingers tracing impossible paths in my tousled hair. “Shit.”

  My fingers dig into her hips as I try to pull her against my mouth, so that I can taste her harder and deeper, but I’m at my limit. She tastes of heaven and perfection, her pussy the best I’ve ever had.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, if that’s all right with you.” I rise to my feet, push my underwear to the floor, and throw a hand against the pillar on either side of her head. She pants, breasts heaving. She nods. I reach down and stroke my cock, then slap it against her pussy. “Go to my room, now.”

  She moans and bites her lip, and I almost spill my seed against her bare inner thigh, where my cock caresses her silky smooth flesh.

  She breaks away from me, rushes into the bedroom. Just as I’m about to give chase, I remember the front door is still open. I rush to the front door, trudging through two piles of clothes, and slam the door shut with one swing of my hand against the door, and immediately rush into the bedroom. She’s sprawled out on the bed with her legs spread, pressing her fingers against her wet pussy.

  I step to the edge of the bed, grab her by her hips and pull her to me. She situates herself on her elbows, watching me as I line my aching cock up against her cunt.

  I’m breathy, impatient, and all I want is to release my seed into the deepest parts of her. She wants the same, and I’m Hunter fucking Kiss so I give her what we both want.

  I thrust into her in one sharp motion, all the way to the hilt.

  She screams in pleasure. I falter and almost collapse onto her. The heat, the tightness, the pulsing, the aching.

  “Fuck,” I moan as I adjust my grip on her hips and begin to slam into her recklessly, without patience and without care. My cock thrusts in and out of her, and there’s no rhythm. I can’t bring myself to care. I’m a man on a mission and how I get there isn’t important.

  Her head is thrown back against the bed, her legs high in the air. Her fingers tangle into the silk sheets atop my bed, her toes curl in the air. Her breasts bounce with every thrust of my cock deep inside her.

  She gets into, I mean really fucking gets into it. She begins to circle her hips, stirring her pussy around.

  I could blow at any second, but I want this to last as long as possible. That’s not going to happen though with me on top, with me in control.

  I roll onto my back, my cock standing at attention as she flips over and climbs onto me. The sight of her lowering herself onto my hardness, fucking Christ.

  I watch her pussy swallow me whole, and maybe reversing positions wasn’t such a good idea. I’m torn between holding onto her hips for dear life, and fondling her impossibly hard, pierced nipples. I make the choice to do both, arching up in bed so that even as I hold her tight I can circle my tongue around one bare nipple.

  “Fuck,” she cries, throwing her arms around my head as she rocks against my cock.

  I’ve been a fucking idiot, I think. A fucking asshole.

  My type was always tall, thin, blondes. All this time wasted, when I should have been searching for Dani. It’s no wonder I never stuck around for long with other women. Something was always missing, but I never knew what. Not until Dani.

  She’s shown me exactly what I was missing.

  Maybe it’s the curves. Maybe it’s the attitude, or the pink highlights. Maybe it’s the absolute badassery she evokes with every movement of her body and every movement of her lips.

  Maybe it’s the entire package.

  Whatever it is, she’s mine.

  At the thought of possessing her completely, I fucking explode deep inside her, spending myself inside her aching pussy as she continues to ride me through one climax.

  I buck my hips upwards, shooting my seed into her. She holds onto me tighter, bucking closer and closer to an orgasm of her own.

  I grip her hips to get her to still. I want more of her. “Get on your hands and knees.”

  Her eyes widen briefly, then she does as I said, climbing off my still-hard cock and positioning herself in front of me. She looks at me over her shoulder, her lips parted and her breathing harsh.

  I give my cock a few strokes before lining myself up behind her. I tease her, caress my cock against her opening before slowly pushing in. I take my time, driving into her carefully one inch at a time.

  “Fuck me,” she cries lowly. “Just fuck me.” She thrusts her hips backward, swallowing my cock whole and working her pussy over my cock. I drop a hand to her clit and caress her gently at first while continuing to fuck her from behind. That seems to do the trick. She pushes her ass back against me, harder and deeper. I quicken my pace, quicken the intensity with which I flick her clit until she’s exploding, forcing her eyes shut, throwing herself back against me and coming around my cock.

  Her hips gyrate as she rides waves of pleasure, sending shockwaves through me.

  “I’m going to…Fuck,” I cry out, but just as I’m about to come inside her again, she collapses onto her stomach, tired and out of breath.

  I shoot hot ropes of cum onto her bare ass and I love it.

  Fuck.

  I think I love her.

  * * *

  When I open my eyes sometime later, I’m not sure how long I’ve been sleeping. What I do know is that we’re still naked and the light outside has turned to darkness, moonlight casting a beautiful glow onto her pale skin and dark hair with pink highlights.

  Dani’s awake. When she smiles, I caress a finger against her flushed cheek. “You’re so beautiful, you know that? Every part of you.”

  She blushes, but I can tell she’s pleased. I continue to trace my finger down her throat. Across her shoulder. Around the curve of her breast and then her arm.

  As I caress her, I’m a little awed by the fact I haven’t run out on her bare-ass naked,
freaked out at having thought the L-word. But that was just me getting caught up in some crazy intense sex. I like Dani. I want to spend more time with her. It doesn’t mean I love her. But suddenly, the idea that I might one day love her doesn’t scare me as it once would have.

  My fingers trace over the tapestry of watercolor carnival rides inked into her soft skin. The tattoo gleams in the light of the moon. “What’s the story there?”

  “It’s a carnival.”

  “Yeah, I get that, but what’s the story?”

  She shrugs, almost as if she doesn’t want to talk about it. “I just love carnivals.”

  I stare at her, willing her to tell me more, to let me in, and she sighs. “Fine. You want to know?”

  “Only if you want to tell me.”

  She sits up in bed, bows her head and inspects her nails. “It’s just… I’ve loved carnivals from a very young age. They’ve always been my safe place, an escape into a world of the extraordinary, where things can be more than what they seem.”

  I nod. “So what did you want to escape?”

  She bites her lip, almost like she's not sure how much to tell me. So I help her out a bit.

  “I know some of it already. Chad told me,” I say, stroking her cheek.

  She looks surprised, but only for a moment. “Well then, I guess you already know what I wanted to escape then.”

  “Maybe. But not all of it, and not from your point of view.”

  She sighs, falling back down beside me and I hold her close. “Carnivals allowed me to be a kid again. My mother was falling apart mentally, and my dad was always in and out of our lives. I never had a chance to be a kid, you know? I had to make sure Chad was taken care of, but every once in a while, when the local carnival came into town, we'd go together and I wouldn't have to be the responsible one. We could just be kids. Eat cotton candy until our stomachs ached, play stupid games, and ride rides. I could almost forget everything going on at home while we were on the Ferris Wheel or Tilt A Whirl.”

  Not sure what to say, I just stick with, “I'm sorry, Dani. That must have been hard for you.” I continue stroking her cheek and staring into her beautiful eyes, hoping she can see the complexity of my feelings for her even if my words didn’t reflect them.

 

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