by Selena Kitt
“How come you didn’t want to stay?”
“I didn’t like the way he looked at you.” He put the car in reverse.
“Who?”
“Voss.” Rob pulled from the parking lot onto the road, heading toward the expressway.
I blinked at him in the dimness, the streetlights flashing by, giving me a strange, broken view of his expression. He had that same dark look I’d seen earlier when the security guard threatened not to let him into the venue.
“Do you know where you’re going?”
“Nope.” He glanced in the rear view mirror and changed lanes. “Where do you live?”
I swallowed. “Don’t you want to go to the hotel?”
He shook his head. “I should get you home. I’ll call a cab to take me back.”
I nodded, feeling tears sting my eyes. I didn’t know what I expected. My chest felt tight and I turned my face toward the window.
“Take the expressway. North.” I leaned my forehead against the glass. We drove in silence and I edged down in the seat, looking out the window at the embankment wall passing by, a myriad of graffiti.
“Sabrina?” His voice was soft.
I didn’t look at him. “Hmm?”
“Are you and Katie roommates?”
I turned to face him, but his eyes were on the road.
“No. I’ve got a little house in Ferndale. Katie lives twenty miles from me. Which is why we were late, tonight, actually…” My voice trailed off as I remembered climbing all those steps, pounding on the door.
“Good.” I saw the flash of his smile.
“Can I ask you something?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
I wanted to ask him what he was doing, what we were doing, what I was doing, where it was all going to go, but I didn’t know how.
Instead, I asked, “Where’s your wife?”
His eyes flashed over me for a moment and he made a noise in his throat, something between a snort and a laugh. “That’s a damned good question.”
I didn’t reply and just looked out the window.
He cleared his throat. “She left me just before the tour started.”
“Oh.” It was all I could think to say. I stared at him, my mouth dry.
“Life on the road sucks.” He sighed, adding, “Life sucks.”
I nodded, pointing toward an exit sign. “Here.”
He took the exit. “Tonight’s the first time I’ve felt good about something—someone—in a long time.”
“Turn here.” I pointed right.
He did, taking the opportunity to look at me. “I feel like I’m walking around empty all the time.”
“I’m sorry.” I reached over and touched his arm, my eyes soft.
He shrugged. “Where am I going?”
“I don’t know.”
He laughed. “No, I mean, where’s your house?”
“Oh,” I blushed. “Up here on the left. Just past the stop sign. The yellow one.”
He pulled into my driveway, cutting the engine. It clicked in the silence.
“I’ll walk you to your door.”
We got out. I shrugged my jacket on before pushing the automatic lock button on the passenger door and then closed it. Rob moved to my elbow, helping me up the stairs. I still felt dizzy but it was starting to fade.
“Thanks.” I held a hand out for my keys.
“No.” He twisted my key ring around his finger. “Let’s not do that.”
“What?” The air filling my lungs was cold compared to the heat in my chest. I knew it was the alcohol making me feel so warm—either that or the toe of Rob’s boot touching mine.
“Pretend. Play games.” He pressed my keys into my hand.
“Okay.” I looked for my house key, trying to distract myself. “Then let’s stop.”
He moved in, his hands sliding under my jacket and behind my back. I lifted my face to his, aching for him to kiss me, and he did, pressing me against the screen door and sliding his thigh between mine. I couldn’t breathe and didn’t want to, his tongue licking at my lips, begging for entrance. I slipped my free hand around to the back of his neck, slanting my head and pulling him in. I didn’t know how long we kissed, but I had to break the connection, afraid of getting lost.
I pressed my forehead to his and gulped, eyes still closed.
“That was better,” he whispered. “Let’s try it again.”
His full weight pressed against me as he captured my mouth once more, hands roaming over my back. I whimpered, my keys slipping from my hand and plunking onto the cement porch as I hung onto him, arms around his neck, letting him explore my mouth with his tongue. The dull ache of excitement and anticipation which had thudded along with the music between my legs all night long came rushing in and I squeezed my thighs around his, my skirt riding up.
“Yeah,” he murmured against my mouth. “Now this feels real.”
“Does it?” I looked at him, his eyes just dark, shining orbs in the dimness, my heart pounding in my chest, my breath coming fast.
“How about this?” It was the alcohol making me brave, I knew. I reached behind me, grabbing the hand pressed flat against my back and pulling it between my thighs. My panties were soaked with the wildness of the night and the moment.
“Mmm, now that’s beyond real.” He smiled, his fingers rubbing me there.
He pulled my panties aside, making a small noise when he felt my smooth, wet labia. His mouth found mine again in the darkness as he pressed his fingers into me. I moaned, grinding my hips against him and sucking at his tongue. I lifted my leg, hooking it around his, pulling him toward me hard and rocking.
He groaned against my mouth and I leaned my head back as his lips moved over my jaw, his tongue making delicious circles down my throat. His fingers found an easy in and out motion, his thumb making exquisite circles against my clit, a heightening rhythm that had me spreading my legs wider and gasping at the stars.
“Deeper!” I squeezed his fingers, trying to draw him in. Together we sent white streams of breath between us wafting out and disappearing into the cold night air. I glimpsed the headlights of a car passing by on my quiet little suburban street as Rob slid his fingers as far into me as he could, his thumb still working round and round my clit.
“Rob…” I felt a tight, swirling ache in my belly, something coiling and waiting to spring. “Don’t stop.”
“No,” he panted, moving faster instead, the wet squelch between my legs the only sound now besides the buzz of the streetlights and the rasping of our breath. “I won’t stop. I promise.”
And he didn’t, his hand working between my thighs as I writhed and ground my pelvis against him, arching my back, my whole body a tightening spiral of need. I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against his neck as he shoved me against the door, his hand buried between my legs.
“Close. So close…” I didn’t know if I was telling him or me, feeling the delicious, rising hum of my orgasm approaching. He pressed his fingers deep, just his thumb moving now against my clit, focusing the sensation and bringing me into it. I moaned and rocked, biting and sucking at his neck as I came, gushing around his fingers in pulsing waves.
“Ahhh, God! Yes!”
He held me close with one arm as I started to sink, buoying me up. My knees weakened and the world tipped upside down. He lifted his other hand, still wet with me, to his mouth, sucking his fingers. I flushed, watching him, very aware now we were on my porch, resting against the front door.
“My keys…” I made an effort to reach for them but found myself trapped. Rob stooped and handed them to me. I found my house key, pulling my skirt down and turning toward the door, head still swimming. My hands trembled and I couldn’t seem to get the key to go into the lock. I looked at him, smiling an apology.
“Here.” He took the key, sliding it in and turning it. I pushed the door open, taking out my keys and switching on the light. It hadn’t occurred to me the place was a mess. I turned to say something, b
ut he filled the doorway, his eyes only on me. Shutting the door behind him, he lifted my chin and kissed me. I could smell myself, taste my juices on his lips.
“Bedroom,” was all he said, kissing me backward. I nodded, dropping my purse and keys, slipping my jacket down and tossing it on the couch as I passed. He shrugged his jacket off and threw it over mine, following.
There were clothes all over my bed, remnants of a night spent changing, trying to find the perfect concert-going outfit, the one that would attract Rob’s attention the most. I smiled at the pile of skirts and blouses, belts and shoes.
I leaned in and swept them all to the floor. Turning on the bed, I looked at him. He slid off his boots and unbuttoned his shirt, looking at me sprawled on the bed.
“Here.” I pressed my boot to the middle of his chest. He caught it in his hand. “Unzip me?”
The boots were knee-length, the zippers long. His gaze followed both zippers down, first one, then the other, tossing the boots to join his on the floor. I admired my legs in fishnets, stretching them out and resting them on his shoulders. I knew he could see straight up my skirt, my panties askew, the material pressing between my labia.
“You know you’re sexy as hell.” He grinned. “At least, after a few drinks, you sure know it.”
“Quit teasing.” I nudged his shoulder with my toe, making a face.
“Look who’s talking.” He spread my legs with his hands, gaze lingering between them. “I’ve wanted to see up that skirt all night.”
“This skirt?” I wiggled my hips, tugging it upward.
“Yeah,” he breathed, his hand moving over the top edge of the elastic on my black bikini panties. He pressed his hand to my belly, stroking the sensitive flesh just below my navel. I shivered and started unbuttoning my blouse.
I didn’t remember the buttons being so small and difficult when I put it on. Rob helped me, kneeling between my thighs as he worked the buttons from the bottom up, our hands meeting in the middle. He spread my shirt open, gaze moving over the black lace of my bra, my nipples hardening, pressing against the silky material.
“You’re like a painting.” He traced one finger between my breasts, over my belly, dipping into my navel. “I could write a song about you.”
“That would be flattering.” I felt dreamy, seeing everything in soft-focus. “What would you call it?”
“Siren Song.” His hand moved to undo my belt and slip my skirt over my hips and thighs. He tossed it on the floor, spreading my legs again with his hands.
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.” I caught his hand in mine, bringing it to my mouth and kissing his fingertips, one by one.
“It is,” he assured me. “You’re quite irresistible.”
He moved off me. “Roll over.”
I obliged, letting him pull my shirt off. He unhooked my bra, his hands kneading warmth into the flesh of my back. I slipped off the straps, flinging it over the side of the bed.
“Up.” He lifted my hips, pulling me to my knees. I let him lead me, lost in the soft kisses raining over my back and bottom. His hands roamed over my legs in the fishnets and when he pulled my panties down my thighs, I moaned, feeling completely exposed to him now.
His breath was hot over my behind as he began to feather kisses there, moving closer and closer to my center. Wiggling toward him, I arched my back, his tongue beginning to probe between the lips of my vulva.
“Yes!” I spread myself open, showing him. He rewarded my effort, slipping his tongue deeper into my folds. His nose pressed into the soft flesh of my perineum, his breath like velvet heat. His tongue took the same circular path his fingers had traveled over my clit when we were outside, this time an easier, softer touch.
He tugged my panties further down, trying to work them off me. I stretched out, loathe to move away from his tongue, so he could slip them past my knees. Rolling to my back, I spread my legs, opening my slit for him with my fingers. His gaze was already there, his tongue moving across his lips as he watched me touch my clit and slide my finger into my flesh.
“Hell, yes! Keep doing that!” He unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way and threw it into the growing pile of clothes on the floor as he watched me finger myself. Bare-chested, the sight of him took my breath away. He moved around the end of the bed, stretching out next to me on his side and propping his head on his elbow so he could put his face right near the apex of my thighs and watch me.
“Put two more fingers in,” he murmured, and I turned my head, realizing, when he reached his hand down there to adjust himself, I was face-to-face with the zipper of his jeans.
“I don’t know if I can,” I admitted, sliding a second finger into my wetness.
“More.” He groaned, his hand moving, rubbing over the crotch of his jeans.
I slid another finger inside, three fingers now, moving slowly in and out.
“Yeah! Fuck yourself like that, Sabrina.” He kissed the elastic across the top of my stocking. The sound of his words made me shiver, and I fingered myself faster.
He grabbed my hips, and I gasped as he rolled onto his back, pulling me with him. His fingers probed me, thicker and rougher than mine, sliding into my flesh. His tongue found my clit, licking and sucking with abandon, as if he could devour me. I whimpered, wiggling on his face, resting my cheek against the seam of his jeans, feeling the throb of his cock.
“Rob,” I whispered, moving my hips in little circles. “Oh, God, that’s so good.”
He didn’t answer me, but he made a noise in his throat, his tongue flicking faster through my slit. I rubbed my cheek against his crotch, feeling the heat of him, and then I unsnapped his jeans and tugged his zipper down. Boxers. I smiled, reaching my hand in to find him, bent and straining against the thick denim.
Tugging his jeans downward, I freed his cock, wrapping my hand around it. He groaned, the sensation a sweet vibration through my flesh as I began to lick the tip, working my tongue all around the head. His cock was thick and already wet with pre-cum. I teased the head with my lips, kissing and licking in turns, enjoying the feel of his tongue and fingers.
I felt him slowly getting distracted, his tongue forgetting about my clit entirely as I took the full length of him into my mouth. He groaned, pressing his hips up, and I nearly gagged, easing back and using my hand around the base to stroke him as I sucked. I rolled my hips, reminding him, and his tongue found me again, fluttering over my clit and then flattening out, moving back and forth.
“Oh, yes!” I whispered it around the head of his cock, my hand jerking him faster. His tongue rippled back and forth over my clit, a slick, wet rhythm that made me undulate against him.
My hand stopped moving on his cock, and I just squeezed him, the tip red and swollen. He began humming, a low, swelling vibration that seared through me, his tongue playing measured beats against my clit.
“Oh, Rob, oh my God… what are you doing?” I panted, the swell of my orgasm beginning to peak. “Oh, don’t stop! Don’t stop!”
My hips rocked and rocked as I started to quake on top of him, the surge of my climax spreading through my pelvis and trembling my thighs.
“Oh, oh, oh,” I whispered, over and over, my mouth pressed against his thigh.
His tongue kept moving over my clit, but I slipped a protective hand over my mound.
“No, no more, I can’t,” I begged him, rolling onto the bed.
He slipped his jeans and shorts down and moved to stretch out beside me, kissing me deeply. His tongue was thick with my juices and I sucked at it, moaning. He slipped his hand between my legs, moving my hand aside and cupping my whole mound with his, rocking just a little, making me shiver.
“You’re so beautiful.” His gaze moved over my body, lingering at my breasts. He dipped his head and licked at my hard, pink nipple. I squirmed, the sensation almost too much, post-orgasm.
“I want you.” His eyes met mine. “I want to be inside you.”
“Yes.” I let my knees fall fully open, my e
yes still half-closed, my whole body flushed with a delicious heat.
He moved between my legs and I took his full weight, wrapping my arms around him. Looking between us, I watched him slip his cock through my fleshy folds, up and down, searching. I lifted my hips, guiding him. He groaned and pressed his hips forward, rocking the length of his stiff cock into me.
“Oh, Sabrina,” he whispered against my ear. “Oh, fuck!”