by Jade Allen
His hands roamed freely over her naked body, learning every inch of her sweet curves. Her skin was flushed, her body warmed with passion and by the sun. She smelled so good. Dean’s nose was always sensitive, but her scent was overwhelming as it imprinted on him. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he broke away from her mouth and continued his exploration with his lips, kissing her jaw, her throat, her neck, her ear. She dropped her head back, fingers clutching at his shoulders as he continued traveling down her body. When he reached the twin globes of her ample breasts, he dropped to his knees and buried his face between the mounds, pausing for a moment to truly enjoy the beautiful bounty at his fingertips.
“Please don’t stop,” Mari whispered, running her fingers through his hair.
There was no chance of stopping. He was all out of willpower and all out of excuses. There was nothing in the world he wanted the way he wanted her, and it seemed like that had been true for his entire life. He couldn’t get enough of her taste, of the silky texture of her skin, or the way she moaned his name. He cupped one breast while he licked and kissed and suckled and nibbled the other, his dick getting harder with each second that passed.
“Please, Dean...I need…” She wasn’t able to finish the sentence, but her hips thrust forward and that was all the direction he needed. He pulled away from her breasts to move over the swell of her belly and bury his face in the fragrant heat between her thighs. He lapped at her flesh, gathering up the sweet nectar of her arousal, pushing his tongue between her thick lips to find her clit. It trembled beneath his tongue, and even the lightest pressure had her gasping and jerking her hips. Her fingers twisted in his hair, and he welcomed the tingling in his scalp—it served as a minor distraction for the intense throbbing between his legs.
In the back of his mind, he recognized that this was probably Mari’s first time. He wanted her first time to be on a big, comfortable bed, unhurried and perfect, not out in the open where anybody could see them, fueled by raw passion and desperate need. He wanted her to have the best of everything and he wanted to be the one to give it to her. He lifted his head to try to tell her as much, but she sank to her knees and pressed herself against him, kissing him with the same fervent passion he had for her.
“Please...I’m going crazy here,” Mari said against his mouth. “I need you.”
She reached between their bodies, fumbling with his fly, and pulled his cock free. Dean tried to say something, but only a low, whimpering moan escaped him as her hand wrapped around his shaft. She gave him a slow, almost languid stroke, and his balls pulled tight almost immediately.
“Oh God,” he gasped. “Wait...let me…” Somehow he managed to fumble his wallet from his back pocket and locate the condom he kept tucked away there. It was almost a relief to slide it on—at least it provided a small barrier between his burning flesh and her silky skin. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes. Very sure.”
He gently lowered her to the grass, and she hooked her legs around his waist. He paused, staring down at her, almost incredulous that she was there like that, with him. She was so open, vulnerable, and giving, and soon she would be his completely. He took a deep, steadying breath and aligned himself with her body, the tip of his cock nudging her opening. Dean eased himself into her, taking his time. She was so slick, wet and ready for him, but she was so, so tight. His fear of hurting her intensified and made him hesitant.
Marisol didn’t have the patience or the time for his fear, though. Instead of letting him set the pace and keep it slow, she thrust her hips up to meet his, sheathing him completely. They both gasped as she took in every inch of him, and before Dean could even choke out her name, their bodies were doing what they were built to do, following a rhythm older than time itself.
“Tell me...if I’m hurting you.”
“Doesn’t...hurt. You’re perfect.” She dropped her head back and arched her spine, meeting him stroke for stroke. “Oh God...perfect. It’s perfect. Feels...feels…” As she spoke, she moved, quickening the pace. He didn’t want to go any faster, but he couldn’t help himself from getting caught up in her tempo. The friction, the heat, the glorious reality of her body was too much to withstand. “Oh...Dean.”
He felt her shake apart the moment his world exploded. They clutched at each other, entwined and frozen as they rode out the force of their mutual pleasure together. It felt like an eternity before he had the strength to lift his head and gaze down at her. She smiled back at him, shy and alluring—and satisfied.
“Mari...God, I love you.”
Her smile widened. “You do?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I love you, too.” She pulled him into a slow kiss. He lost himself in the caress, caught up not in raw passion but in the pure, sweet pleasure of her mouth. During his stay in the hospital, he felt like a man without a purpose, but now he understood how foolish that was. He had the money from all the purses he’d won over the past several years, he had his life and his health, and most importantly, he had Marisol. The brightest light in his world. The axis on which his entire universe rotated. The heart on which he could place his faith, his hopes, and his fondest dreams.
THE END
Taken By The Hometown Bad Boy
The first thing Natalia Hyde noticed when her taxi drove her past the sign that said, ‘Welcome to Riverdale,’ was that everything seemed exactly as it had been the day she left. The streets were all the same, the lovely suburban arrangement of roundabouts that had been fun to ride around on bikes. The twenty-eight-year-old had expected to find some changes, maybe expansions or even a few changes on a few stores but nothing… it was as if someone had grabbed a huge remote control and pressed pause on the whole town.
The only viable change that Natalia noticed was that people were older, and the kids now running around the parks and streets had faces she didn’t recognize.
The taxi drove her toward the town’s only known hotel, a measly Hilton Garden Inn at the edge of the highway. She remembered seeing this same little place for years and was pleasantly surprised to note that it looked like it had been renovated. It was much bigger than she remembered.
Paying her fare and pulling her bag out of the back of the car, Natalia strutted through the mechanical doors, feeling a cool draft yank at her clothes and long black hair as she entered. It was definitely different; maybe that pause button didn’t affect everything after all.
When Natalia entered the lobby, she was surprised to find it rather busy; several people were talking with the concierge, a young woman with thick blonde hair styled in large ringlets. She looked rather out of her league, appearing absolutely nervous as she assisted a man with immense shoulders. The back of his head had a particularly large scar that Natalia recognized instantly.
“Brad?” She spoke before she could hold her tongue and the broad man turned around. There was a moment when he appraised her, broad face and broad eyes that gave him a certain brutish appearance. Still, she remembered him, he had been one of Nathan’s friends throughout high school. A jock and a pretty decent football player, Brad had been the sort to follow rather than to lead, yet he had a hidden cruel side that only came out whenever Nathan had grown bored.
To her surprise, Brad beamed up at her brightly. “Natalia!” he exclaimed, urging her closer and glaring at all the other people waiting in line. She recognized a few other faces and instantly wished she hadn’t brought attention to herself. Most of the people there had seen some of Nathan’s bored side and remembered her for how she just stood by, doing nothing.
“It’s been years,” Brad insisted as Natalia approached. “You’ve grown taller!”
“My last growth spurt since high school,” Natalia replied dryly. She was only wearing platforms but leave it to Brad not to notice. “You haven’t changed much yourself.”
“I’ve been working as an engineer,” Brad announced, puffing his chest. “Nathan helped me get the job actually.” At the mention of her brother, Natalia perked up and
met Brad’s gaze curiously.
“You’ve seen Nathan?”
“Yeah, I bumped into him about four years ago. He kind of helped me get out of my parent’s basement before allowing me to find a spot in the city. I haven’t seen him since, though.” Deflated, Natalia felt her shoulders slump slightly. Everything had hit the fan eight years ago…tensions that could no longer be tolerated in that small house exploded so thoroughly, that it resulted in all of them going their separate ways. Once upon a time, Natalia had been exceptionally close to her twin, practically playing along to the silly stereotype that all twins were halves of the same whole.
Four years ago was around the same time he sort of just disappeared; since then, Natalia hasn’t really stopped searching. Brad helped her check in with the concierge, giving the woman a nasty look when she tried to make Natalia wait at the back of the line. Paying for the next few nights, Natalia received her room key and prepared to walk off.
“Hold on,” Brad called with a wave. Natalia felt a touch of disdain when he jogged up to catch up to her. “Our rooms are pretty close together. I’ll walk you there.”
Shrugging, Natalia tuned Brad out as he continued to speak about his life since he left Riverdale, focusing more on the path to her room and finding a good point in the conversation to brush him off. Eventually, they arrived at their rooms and when she began to slide her card into the slot, she noticed he was hovering.
“Bye, Brad,” Natalia said, fixing him a certain glare that he had responded to well enough in the past. He didn’t leave, though. Brad gave her a soft smile, leaning against the door frame with a confidence she hadn’t expected.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to keep you company, Natalia?” Brad asked suggestively. “I’m actually rather good in bed.”
Snorting with disgust and some surprise, Natalia slipped her door open. “No, thanks. Bye, Brad.”
“Oh come on, give me a chance!”
She didn’t spare him another glance before she pushed inside her room, slamming the door right in his face with finality. Brad may have been a bumbling giant back in high school, and while he had been pretty happy to jump into crueler plans, he lacked nerve when he didn’t have someone to shove him around. Natalia wasn’t interested in filling the role Nathan had had back in high school.
She remained holed up in her bedroom for a few hours, focusing on completing a few spreadsheets for work and ordering room service for dinner. She wasn’t interested in meeting up with anyone anytime soon. Of course, staying holed up in an unfamiliar space for any period of time was enough to make anyone claustrophobic. So, after changing her wardrobe and tying her long, dark hair into a low ponytail, Natalia snuck out of her room and headed out of the hotel. The last thing she needed was to bump into another familiar face, but she needed a drink.
****
There was only one good watering hole in the town—a rickety pub named Arty’s that was well known to harbor the town’s unfavorable idiots and village drunkards. She was pretty sure whoever was there would be too drunk to notice her and so she made her way there. Of course, it took her some time to reach the damn place. Without a car--and the streets bare of taxis--Natalia was forced to follow the sidewalk with downcast eyes and an easy gait.
It only took about fifteen minutes until she found herself staring up at that silly red neon sign over the pub. Natalia had spent a few evenings in this place’s parking lot, attempting to study in the back of her brother’s pick-up while they passed around beers, jeering at incoming pub-goers. She had better luck studying with Nathan nearby and had grown tired of staying around their house whenever their parents had an argument.
She was such an apathetic person back then, and following this town’s doomed capacity to never change, Natalia seemed to be caught in the same loop. With a grunt, she headed inside the pub, grimacing at the stench of alcohol and foul body odor. Yep. Hasn’t changed a bit.
As she approached the bar, she casually shrugged off the curious stares before taking a seat in one of the tall stools, tapping a finger against the top of the counter to wait for the bartender to show up. Sure enough, he appeared.
“Great mother of God. If it isn’t Natalia Hyde, herself!” Natalia turned toward the voice and felt a small smile peek at the corner of her lips.
“You’re still alive, old man?” she asked and the bartender let out a loud guffaw. Arty’s very own Arty Tibbleton; he had been the owner of the pub since Natalia had learned to walk and had been around more than her own father had. In a sense, Arty had taken a sort of paternal figure in Natalia’s life, offering more than enough advice to help her when she had been young. He was probably the only thing in her life that had remained a faithful constant, and it filled her with some contentment that he was still around and well. Arty was a large and buff man, with a large red beard he liked to keep bushy around his face. Having worked years carrying immense boxes of liquor, his body was strong and broad and his connection to her family had spared her a lot of unwanted advances by some of Nathan’s less honorable acquaintances.
“Alive and kicking,” Arty chuckled, swiping a rag along the counter before bracing himself on the wood. “How’s your family, you seen them already?”
“No, I’m keeping my distance for as long as possible,” Natalia admitted, picking at a ridge in the old counter. “I’m staying at the Hilton.”
“Ah, so you’re here for the reunion, then.” Arty said, grabbing a glass and filling it with liquor. “Would you like to try a cocktail? I’ve created a new drink; it should put some hair on that flat chest of yours.”
“As much as I’d love that, I’ll stay clean.” Natalia said, chuckling along. “Just whiskey for now.”
Arty gave her a warm wink before heading toward the requested bottle of whiskey. In no time at all, Natalia was downing the liquor with a sigh, relishing the burn in her throat and belly. She settled on musing on the counter, chatting here and there with Arty, and after her third glass, Natalia felt something—or rather someone—brush against her arm.
“Well, well,” she heard, and when she turned, she was being stared at by a pair of deep green eyes and a strong jaw line. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”
“And you might not ever again,” Natalia replied swiftly, motioning to Arty to top her off. The bartender filled her glass, sending a frown to the man now occupying the space next to the woman.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” Green Eyes said, and when Arty sent her a glance, Natalia gave him a wave. I’m good. With a nod, the broad man slid a glass of whiskey to the man next to her before returning to his patrons.
“You know, you look weirdly familiar to me,” Green Eyes said after a moment of silence. Natalia rolled her eyes.
“If this is your best shot at a pick up line, you might want to try the redhead giving head to muscles over there.” Natalia stated, flicking her finger in the direction of said patrons. Green Eyes shook his head, chuckling to himself.
“Nah, you don’t seem like the kind to be into pick-up lines.”
“Oh, what tipped you off?” she asked, but couldn’t help but feel a tingle of recognition in the back of her mind. She was certain the alcohol now running in her system was the main cause for her inability to remember.
“Whiskey,” he said, taking a swig of his own drink. She had to admit, he wasn’t bad-looking. “Not exactly a fruity drink meant to entice strangers to get into your pants.”
“Joke’s on you because I’m not exactly new around here,” Natalia shrugged, and that’s when a flash of realization dawned over this man’s eyes.
“That’s how I know you,” he said, snapping his fingers. “You’re Natalia Hyde. My God, look at you. You really grew up.” Natalia frowned at him, not exactly thrilled he knew her when she couldn’t fish a memory of his face from her mind.
“A symptom that comes with the passage of time,” she replied flippantly. “But, I have no idea who you are.”
He raised a brow, and th
e expression was almost charming. The tickle in the back of her mind began to burn more insistently. “You wound me, and here I thought my reputation preceded me.”
“Apparently not,” Natalia said and he gave her a sudden grin before inching closer; there was a strange thrill that began in her skin when she felt his hand land over her thigh. She was tempted to punch him in the face, but it had been far too long since she had felt anything close to this.
“Would you like to find out?” The memory came all too swiftly the deeper Natalia stared into this man’s eyes.
“Dillinger…?” The name passed through her lips and she saw him flash her a brighter grin.
“Jace Dillinger,” he said, his thumb leisurely tracing a circle against her knee. The shiver in her body increased and she knew that her lowered inhibitions were only tricking her to fall into his touch. “Pleasure to meet you. I take it you’re here for the big alumni reunion?”
“I’m beyond excited,” Natalia hummed back with an apathetic curl of her lips. Jace chuckled into his glass, settling the crystal down as he turned right toward her.
“You still following that brother of yours like a shadow?”
The words filled Natalia with a dip of bitterness, making her wish she hadn’t entertained him for a conversation. It had been a bad idea talking to someone who was familiar with her brother. “Nathan’s gone,” she muttered. “As in, he’s sort of disappeared.”