by Kylie Walker
Unable to take it another moment more, I put the engine in drive and then revved down the driveway, driving back toward my lonely, shadowed home. My shoulders were tense from my rage.
God, I needed to get Rachel to myself full time. I wanted to keep her from those white trash scoundrels, who didn’t just serve her hot dogs and put bad thoughts in her head about what living was meant to be like—about how you could squander your hours in front of the television and not accomplish anything.
But with the stress at work, along with the promotion, I wasn’t sure how I could fight them.
Chapter 8
Quinn
After I had watched Tyler and Rachel drive toward Rachel’s mothers, I tried to unpack some more boxes, to root myself. God, it seemed I’d never finish with such a simple task. All the unwrapping, all the piling, and the organizing. It didn’t seem like good use of my time.
Not when I could be in the lab, actually trying to find a solution for sleep paralysis and other disorders. Not when I could laze away on the couch, thinking about that hunk of a man who’d entered earlier—his eyes seeming to undress me with a simple glance.
Jesus. I hadn’t been able to get Tyler off my mind. Every plate I unwrapped seemed heavy in my hands. Every picture I tried to hang seemed useless. Once on the couch, I eased my legs apart and stared at the empty fireplace mantle, which was meant to fill with decorations, and then I traced
my fingers across the pulsing heartbeat on my crotch.
The last time I had had sex was about three days before my ex had moved out of our apartment in Asheville. It had been sad sex, with a resolution at the end that we weren’t going to be doing that anymore. Although, sex with Chris had never been anything remotely amazing. He hadn’t ‘revealed God’ to me in any way, and hadn’t gone down on me in almost a year. A year! How had I allowed something so foolish and loveless to go on for so long?
Perhaps that’s why he had hooked up with Emery, in the interim. He’d been hunting for something more.
Now, presented with that perfect man, I felt my blood gravitate toward my pussy once more. Ripping at my cutoff jeans, I tore them down my legs and then eased my white underwear down as well, keeping my eyes centered upon myself. My pussy lips were pink, peachy, gleaming in the soft light of twilight. Placing two fingers on either side of my opening, I felt the heat coming from me like a furnace, showing that there was so much more to me than the inner workings of my science mind.
I was a sexual creature. I had needs.
Pressing my thumb against the hard tip of my clit, I entered myself with two fingers, loving the strange feeling of being wet, melon-like. Knocking my head back, I explored my wet channel between my legs, pressing my fingers up against my G-spot and remembering, with a jolt, that back in my earlier single days I used to make myself cry with pleasure when I used two hands. One against my G-spot and the other rubbing against my swollen clit and I would climax by myself, in the heat of my bed and it had never been so sweet.
But as I began to rub at myself, I watched bright lights course down the street, then enter the next-door driveway. Shocked, I raced down to the floor and pulled my shorts up the curve of my ass, almost as if he’d caught me. Almost as if he knew how much I wanted him to destroy me.
I crawled, army-like, toward the far window, and then peeked out at him. He looked angry, gruff. He lifted a bottle of whiskey from the far side of the truck and then marched toward the door, the muscles of his shoulders rippling as he moved. My pussy still demanded attention, quivering with unmet desire, and as I watched him, it did nothing but grow. There was someone who could take care of what I needed—give me what I wanted.
But it’s not like I could just go over there and tell him that. I was meek, much younger—practically a girl, in comparison. He certainly was used to much more experienced women closer to his own age. Of course, I had no doubt that the thought of hot, young pussy might be tempting to the guy. I had seen the way his eyes roamed over my body. But beyond that? There was absolutely no way he saw me as anyone he could ever take seriously.
Although I did work myself through school and I had just purchased my own house. I had this gut-wrenching fire within me to succeed, to love, to fight for what I wanted.
“Fuck it,” I whispered. “You only live once.”
I rose up from my stance on the floor, where I’d been like a rodent, and then reached for my phone, dialing a local pizza place and ordering a large pepperoni and cheese. I waited for what seemed like over half an hour at the doorway for the delivery boy to arrive, and then accepted it and paid him, walking across the lawn. I reached forward and placed my fist against the door, paused for a few beats, and then pounded on it.
The knock rang out across the house.
This was a bad idea, I thought immediately. What the hell was I thinking, bringing a pizza to over to his house?
I heard him trudging toward the door moments later. Anger seemed to sizzle in the air, even on this side of the door. I swallowed harshly, awaiting a literal or a figurative slap in the face, if only for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
When Tyler opened the door, his eyes remained hard. He traced the softness of my face, eased down my breasts, and then eyed the pizza curiously.
“I—I wanted to thank you for greeting me to the neighborhood last week,” I began, gesturing with the pizza box. “It’s just pepperoni and cheese. But I thought, since you’re traveling tomorrow, you probably don’t have much food in the house…” I trailed off, half-hoping he’d send me away with the pizza, so I could gobble it down in the comfort of my bed and then sob myself to sleep. But after a moment’s pause, he waved me in, like an air flight control man, telling me to land.
Once inside the foyer, I glanced around the house, feeling like a voyeur. It was generally spotless, with a large portrait of Rachel in the living room, over a piano I was certain she practiced diligently. A stack of science books graced the side table, and a large television gleamed, off, in the corner. Back beyond, I spotted a kitchen, along with two bedrooms and a bath up a short bit of steps.
“Wow,” I said, impressed. “It’s a nice place.”
“Just like all the others in the neighborhood,” Tyler said, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes were penetrating and fierce. “You really didn’t have to bring over dinner.”
“I wanted to,” I whispered, shrugging slightly. “You really made me feel—“ I paused, knowing that ‘welcome’ wasn’t quite the word for it. Alert. Alive. Sexual. Totally fucking horny. Those were words that fit.
“I apologize for my rudeness,” he said, interrupting. He slotted his hand around the pizza box and then walked back toward the kitchen, dropping it on the counter. He didn’t open it. I followed him softly behind, feeling tentative. A rabbit in the woods, eyeing the hunter.
“I just got back from Rachel’s mother’s. And God, I just can’t handle that woman another minute longer. The fact that Rachel has to be there—I fucking hate it so much…” Tyler trailed off, placing his fist against his chest. “Sorry, it’s no fun to listen to a man rant about his ex-wife, is it?”
He smiled, then, in a rare moment of calmness. The heat between us was intense, filled with sexual energy and I could feel it radiating just as strong as ever. I didn’t speak for a long time, wondering if he would fill the silence with more rants. Had I really come over here to listen to this? Had I known what I came over here for?
“I can’t fucking take it anymore, is all,” Tyler said then. After a pause, he bit his lip and then took a step forward, towering over me. His lips suddenly crashed into mine. The electricity was immediate, coursing up and down my spine. I was still wet, and I could feel the jolt of electricity going straight down my spine and settling in the juncture between my thighs, reminding me how ready I was for him if he wanted me. God only knew how much I wanted him.
He brought his hand around the back of my neck, lightly pulling at my blonde hair, and
then separated my lips with a quick lash of his tongue—entering me. He eased his tongue along my teeth, toying with my mouth, before pulling back, keeping his eyes closed for a long time.
Breathless, I waited for him to do something. To kick me out. To strip me bare. Anything.
In the moments that stretched, Tyler finally opened his eyes. He exhaled for a long time, gazing at me. And then, in a moment of pure, unadulterated strength, he pushed me against the counter. My back stretched away from him as he pressed his body firmly against mine, swiping my hair behind my ears. He whispered into my ear, making the muscles of my lower abdomen contract, a flutter of butterflies trying to escape.
“You’re the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in a very long time,” he breathed.
With a quick motion, he reached down and ripped my pink cardigan from my chest, revealing my bare breasts below. My nipples were hard as pebbles. Wrapping his fingers around the left one, he squeezed it playfully before knocking his head forward and kissing my neck. His lips traced down my chest until his mouth met my nipple. With his tongue swirling around the dark peak, toying with the hard nub, I felt a long, easy sigh fall from between my lips.
Jesus. I could hardly stand it.
Tyler’s hand nestled against my abdomen and then eased down between my thighs, finding my warmth. He ripped open the button, and unzipped my shorts, allowing them to fall to my ankles. Sighing, he tore at the underwear below and then flicked his fingers against the tip of my clit, his eyes following my face as I fell into unimaginable pleasure. This wasn’t like my fingers on my clit. This was an entirely different experience at the hands of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, and I breathed in deeply, savoring the moment.
I wrapped my hands around the stiffness of his muscled shoulders, lifting myself onto the counter. Parting my legs, I revealed my soft pink folds between. He was dominating me, showing his power over me, and I was unable to resist it. I had come to him, unable to stay away another moment more.
Nodding, Tyler knelt down, kissing the softness of my thighs, teasing his way toward my core with little kisses, finally bringing his tongue forward. He found my swollen clit with his tongue and flicked at it several times, sending shocks up and down my spine. And then, after a long, terrible pause, he dipped his tongue within the darkness of my pussy, sliding it up inch-by-inch. The intensity shocked me. Bringing my fingers through the dark curls on his head, I held onto him, clinging to him for support.
After sucking at my clit a final time, Tyler removed himself and kissed me deeply, allowing me to taste myself. Reaching forward, I tore at his t-shirt, lifting it above his head, no longer wanting to be the only vulnerable one. But there was nothing about Tyler’s appearance that would leave him feeling vulnerable—he was absolutely stunning. His abdomen was a perfect cut six-pack; his shoulders piled high with muscles. Two fine cuts bounded beneath his jeans, making my heart race at the thought of what he possessed there.
“Do you mind?” I whispered, grabbing at the button and undoing it.
“It’s good that you asked permission first. You should always ask me permission,” Tyler said, his voice gruff.
My heart thudded against my chest as I ripped at the zipper, reaching beneath his pants and finding the full girth of him. The heat rose from beneath as I lifted his cock, watching as it pointed its red, pulsing thickness toward me. With a flourish, he brought his jeans and underwear to the ground and stepped out of them, standing barren, intense before me. His feet were shoulder’s width, making him seem almost like a Goliath, hungry for destruction.
“Jesus,” I whispered.
But he didn’t hear me. I wasn’t convinced he even sensed what he was doing anymore. He was on autopilot, an animal. He pummeled forward, bringing the tip of his rock hard cock against the opening of my pussy lips. Gripping my ass, he rammed himself inside me, the thick length of him filling me completely. My eyes widened, staring into his with such intensity. My mind saw a pure kaleidoscope of colors: pinks, purples, reds.
How was this even possible? I could hardly concentrate on anything other than the exquisite feeling of him pounding into me, fucking me hard, letting me know that he was the one in charge—and I loved it.
He fucked me like that, on top of his kitchen counter, squeezing my ass cheeks and spreading them wide. I could feel his heartbeat through his cock, pressing hard against my G-spot. I clung to his shoulders so that I didn’t fall away from him, knowing that if his cock fell from within me, I would go absolutely insane. I wanted him inside me, filling me completely.
After several minutes, he pulled out with a groan and backed away slightly.
“Get on the floor,” he commanded.
I did as he asked, leaping onto the linoleum and drawing myself down before him, gazing at his perfect cock. With obedient motions, I wrapped my lips around the tip of his rock-hard member, licking at the tip and then bringing my mouth around his cock. My tongue traced around the veins, drawing lines. Still, his cock pulsed in my mouth as he gasped above me, scarcely able to believe the intensity.
And then when I took him completely into my mouth, the head of his penis hitting the back of my throat, I thought he was going to come. But instead, shocked at how close he was, he pushed me back. I fell onto my ass, my eyes dancing up toward his. Not wanting to look foolish, he whipped me around, revealing the crest of my gleaming ass, and then entered my pussy from behind, wrapping his fingers around my waist and pressing against my clit. He rubbed me furiously, intent on making me cum around his cock. The wetness coated his fingers, and I cried out, no longer frightened of making any noise.
“Louder,” he growled. “Scream louder. Say my name.”
I did.
“Tyler. Fuck me. Harder. Make me cum.” I was losing consciousness, falling against him, delirious with the pleasure he was causing. As he fucked me harder, I sensed we were going to cum together, that our bodies were in total sync.
With one hard final thrust forward, his cock pressed hard against my G-spot, forcing me to face the many waves of pleasure, the most intense orgasm of my life. He cried out, gripping my ass for support, as he came inside me, shoving himself forward, and then knocking me to the ground.
We collapsed into one another’s arms on the linoleum floor, coated in sweat. I looked into his eyes, wondering what he could possibly see in me. Kissing me slowly, silently, he removed all my doubts away. I pressed my breasts against the tightness of his chest, coiling one leg over his waist, feeling a part of something bigger.
Something I hadn’t seen coming.
Something I couldn’t avoid, now.
Chapter 9
Tyler
Her perfect ass was tight as hell and in my hands. I held her against me, watching as her breasts rippled with each of her breaths. We were wrapped so tightly together on my kitchen floor, both coming down from our intense orgasms.
Over an hour of fucking. That’s how long it had been, although it had only felt like a few minutes. How had I allowed myself to lose my mind so quickly? And why did I want to do it again?
“Jesus,” was all I could say, bringing my hand up to her curls and swiping them behind her ears. She looked perfect, angelic, and completely spent. I had half a mind to carry her to my bed and allow her to sleep here until morning when I left for San Francisco.
Quinn giggled slightly, sounding almost school-girlish, reminding me of how much younger she was. How many sexual encounters did she have? I wondered. Of course, she’d been to college. And damn, she gave great head. She had some idea about what she was doing.
“Do we have to stay here on the floor all night?” she asked with a slight grin.
Rearing back, I released her and stood, leaning heavily against the counter and watching as she collected herself. With a sudden memory, I reached upward, grabbing the forgotten pepperoni pizza and passed her a piece “You need your strength,” I said, giving her a wink.
Grabbing my t-shirt,
she flung it over her breasts, looking casual and sexy. I brought my boxers over my legs, shaking slightly after the intense session.
Would she want to do that again?
God. No. What was I doing?
I watched as she took a bite of her pizza. “Guess the pizza worked after all,” she said.
Was that a joke? Jesus.
“You really conned me,” I said, suddenly unable to eat anything. This girl seemed special, yes. But very young. And also, Rachel had taken a liking to her. I couldn’t date her. Fuck, no. But maybe I could preserve something for Rachel so that she could go back and play with the dog. So she could discuss science.
How could I fix what I’d already fucked, savagely, on the kitchen floor?
“So you’re working at the lab. When does that start?” I asked her, trying to find a bit of normalcy. As she eyed me curiously, I took a long bite of pizza, chewing languidly. The grease and the cheese had separated slightly, making it slimy against my tongue.
“I start on Monday. I’m really looking forward to a fresh start, after my recent breakup in Asheville,” she said. She leaned toward me, looking almost as if she wanted a kiss. But instead, she took another bite of pizza—perhaps sensing how much I wanted to turn back time.
“Sleep patterns?” I asked. “I could use some information on that. I can never sleep when I get out to San Francisco. There’s too much on my mind about my daughter. Too much on my mind about what my ex-wife is putting her through.” I hung my head, realizing I’d brought up Marnie. Again.
“Well, how much alcohol do you drink before you sleep?” Quinn asked me.
“Probably a bit too much.”
“You can become reliant on it,” she said, her voice becoming a near whisper. “It’s dangerous for sleep cycles. And are you getting enough light?”
“I spend most of the days in meetings,” I sighed, sensing she had a point.
She shrugged slightly, creeping closer to me. I wanted to lean my head against her shoulder, to ask her to take some of the weight off my life.