Hooking Up

by Helena Hunting

  I pick up the antiseptic spray and Amalie tries to jerk her foot from my grasp.

  “You can’t use that! It’ll hurt.”

  “It’ll be fine. This needs to be cleaned.” I give it a couple of quick squirts.

  Amalie shrieks like I’ve just sprayed her with acid and then her mouth turns down. “Oh. That wasn’t so bad.”

  I chuckle at her chagrined expression. “I told you it would be fine.”

  “Yeah, but fine usually means the exact opposite, so I expected it to be not fine.”

  “In this case fine doesn’t have an alternate meaning. I’m going to clean up the nail so it’s not so jagged, okay?” This is easier to deal with. The taking care of her part I can manage, when there’s a task to focus on, so I’m distracted from the other, less acceptable things I want to do to her.

  “Okay.” She exhales quickly, then pulls her other leg up to her chest, tucking her toes under her knee, obstructing any view I might have of those damn panties.

  I get out the little pair of scissors, and the first snip is fine, but she jumps at the next one. “Amalie. You need to hold still.”

  “It hurts!”

  “Stop looking and it’ll hurt less.”

  “I hate you right now.” She flops back on the bed and grabs a pillow, pulling it over her head. It’s pretty entertaining. She stretches out her other leg and tucks it under mine, her toes digging in as I keep clipping the nail back as far as I can, smoothing out the rough edge.

  I have a feeling she should probably have this looked at, but we’ll know better in the morning when the bleeding has stopped. Or she’ll know, since I won’t be here by then.

  Once I’m finished, I wrap it in gauze so she doesn’t catch it in her sleep or bleed on the sheets. I pat her knee. “All done.”

  One eye peeks out from under the pillow. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.” I put everything back into the first-aid kit and move to the edge of the bed.

  “Where’re you going?”

  I pause. “To put this away.”

  Amalie starts to pull her knees up to her chest, but thinks better of it. “Are you going to leave after that?”

  I should. Definitely. “Do you want me to?”

  With a shake of her head she tucks her hair behind her ear. “I was alone all day. I don’t want to be alone again. Yet.” And there it is, that innocent look. I wonder if she even realizes the kind of power she has, or if she’s oblivious to it.

  “I’ll stay for a while on one condition.”

  Her tongue peeks out and a small smile curves those luscious lips. “What’s that?”

  “You change out of this dress.”

  “What’s wrong with my dress?”

  “Absolutely everything.”

  She looks down at herself with a frown. “I thought it looked . . . nice.”

  “Nice is not the word I would use to describe this.” I motion to the dress.

  Her mouth drops open, then snaps shut in irritation. “It’s sexy!”

  “Ya think?” Before I really consider my actions I slip my hands under the backs of her knees and bend them, giving me an incredible view of those motherfucking panties. I hold her knees tight together, otherwise I’m going to find myself between her legs. “I’m human, Amie, I can only behave myself for so long.”

  “Maybe I don’t want you to behave.” I can feel pressure on my palms, as if she’s trying to push her knees apart.

  “Amie.” It’s as much as warning as a plea.

  She places her hands over mine, keeping them there. “Did you really mean what you said?”

  “Probably, I don’t have a reason to lie to you, but it would help if I knew what exactly you’re referring to.” I’ve said a lot of things that I probably shouldn’t have tonight, on the plane, the night of her wedding.

  “That ‘no was the last thing you wanted to say.’” She drops her head. “Or were you just being nice? Is that what you’re doing now?”

  “You think this is me being nice?”

  She lifts her shoulder and lets it fall. I don’t know how to read her, one second she’s pushing all my buttons and the next she’s timid and uncertain.

  “I shouldn’t have said that.” Her face falls so I elaborate. “About ‘no being the last thing I wanted to say.’ That wasn’t fair to you.”

  How badly had I wanted to say fuck it and get in her then? It feels like a lifetime ago, not days. But the memories, the sensations, they’re all still vivid; the feel of her body on me and under me. The taste of her tongue, bathed in champagne and desperation, her pleas, her tears, her humiliation, and her anger. God her fury was stunning, but her devastation was sobering.

  Her blond hair falls, covering her face. She tries to pull away, but I’m still holding on to her legs.

  “I meant it. I didn’t want to say no. But I would’ve been an asshole if I hadn’t. I would be an asshole right now if I didn’t at least attempt to control myself.”

  Her bottom lip is caught between her teeth for a moment. “You’re just being nice again.”

  My laugh is dark. “I’m really not that nice.”

  She traces the edge of my fingers pressed against her skin. “You’ve been nice to me.”

  “It’s very self-serving, Amalie.”

  She tips her head up, defiance in her gaze. “How?”

  “Look where I am right now.” I motion to her bed. “I don’t want anyone else to be invited back here.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re vulnerable and you’ve been drinking.”

  “I had two martinis and too much sun. I’ve consumed a gallon of water in the past half hour. I know what I’m doing right now.”

  I don’t know why I’m being such a pussy about this, why I can’t commit one way or another to a decision. Do or don’t. Give in or get out. “Regardless, I can’t knowingly take advantage of you, not when you’ve been hurt the way you have.”

  “I don’t need you to protect my poor heart, Lex.” Anger makes the words sharp. “I’m not about to let anyone else get near it after what Armstrong did to me. The least you can do is stop chasing guys away and let me get laid while I’m here instead of sending all these mixed signals and messing with my head. It’s already messed up enough.”

  “I’m not letting some random douche take advantage of you.”

  “What if I want to be taken advantage of?” She heaves a frustrated sigh. “That didn’t come out right. I’m on an island, on what’s supposed to be my honeymoon. I should be fucking my brains out, having the best sex of my life, but instead I’m hanging out at the bar alone, getting hit on by questionably sleazy guys who can probably sense how messed up I am, and then I’m forced to come back here and get myself off. Also alone. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to think about how fucked up my life is. I just want to get laid. I just want to feel something other than this goddamn emptiness that’s sucking all the fucking fun out of this trip.”

  “You just wanna get laid?” Out of everything I could’ve taken from that, this is a bad question to lead with. The worst and the best question ever. But fuck it. There’s no way I’m letting another nameless Fuck-me Eric have her. If anyone’s going to get to put their hands on her it’s going to be me. She has two weeks left here. She should enjoy it. And if she wants me to, I’m going to make sure that happens, and that it includes lots of orgasms. And toys if she’ll let me into her tickle trunk.

  “Yes, I want to get laid!” She throws her hands up in the air. “I’m tired of seeing all these happy couples, knowing they’re all going back to their little huts to fuck their faces off and I don’t get to.”

  “Do you want me to fix that for you?”

  Amalie’s eyes go wide as I move in closer.

  “If you’d like some assistance with the fucking your face off part, I’d be happy to help out.” I loosen my tie.

  She pushes on my chest. “Don’t play with me!”

  I grab her hand and fi
t myself between her legs, pressing my hips into hers. I’m hard. I’ve been hard since I walked into the bar and saw her in this skimpy little nothing of a dress. Her mouth drops open.

  “I’m assuming you can feel that.” I roll my hips, just to be clear what that is.

  “Yes.”

  I lower my head so my lips are inches from hers. “What does that feel like to you, Amie?”

  “It feels l-like—”

  “—like I’m playing you?” I skim the length of her throat with my free hand.

  “No.” It’s the softest whisper.

  “Does it feel like I’m being nice?” I rest a finger under her chin and tip it up so she meets my gaze. “I assure you, there’s nothing nice about the things I want to do to you, the ways I want to have you.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s good to know.” The wide eyes and innocent stare morph into the same wild look I caught a glimpse of in her bridal suite. “Because I’m pretty sick and fucking tired of nice, polite sex.”

  She grabs the back of my neck and pulls my mouth to hers. It’s not a soft, gentle kiss. It’s sure as fuck not polite. It’s tongues battling, her nails digging in to my skin, lips fusing, fire in my veins invoking. Her tongue finds mine, aggressive and searching. She slides her hands down my chest and works on my belt buckle. Jerking hard on the clasp, she whips it through the loops, tossing it on the floor.

  Amie yanks my shirt free from my pants, then pushes on my chest, breaking the kiss. For a brief moment I think maybe she’s decided this is a mistake. But then she says, “Sorry about your shirt.” Instead of unbuttoning it, she grips the sides and pulls. A couple of buttons pop off. She does it again, and this time the rest of them come free apart from the two at the top since my tie is still around my neck. “Hmm. Didn’t work as well as I’d planned.”

  I laugh and sit back on my heels, loosening my tie enough that I can unfasten the remaining buttons. Before I can remove the tie, Amie’s there to push my shirt over my shoulders.

  “Look at you.” Her tongue peeks out as she drags her manicured nails across my chest and down my stomach.

  The muscles jump under the lightness of her touch.

  Her eyes flip up to mine. “Are you flexing?”

  I shrug. Maybe a little.

  “God. You’re so . . . Look at all these ridges.” She sighs when she reaches the waist of my pants. Eyes flipping up to mine, her smile is anything but innocent as she pops the button and drags down the zipper, chest rising and falling faster with each breath. I need to get her out of this dress.

  Amalie keeps her gaze focused on where her hands are. She drags my pants and boxers over my hips. My dick, which is already really fucking hard, springs free.

  “Oh,” she breathes. “Wow.”

  I chuckle.

  Her fingers flutter to her mouth and she lifts those wide, shocked eyes. “That’s, um . . . God.”

  “If that’s what you want to call him, go right ahead.” I shove my pants and boxers off the rest of the way, leaving them in a heap on the comforter.

  She brushes her fingers along the length. “I wasn’t sure if I’d exaggerated to Ruby when I told her about this, you know, when you flashed everyone at the Halloween soirée? It’s good to know I didn’t.”

  She rises up on her knees, her dress hiked to her hips, those pretty pink panties totally on display now. Amalie pulls the cuffs of my shirt free from my wrists, then pats the pillow behind her. “You come here.” She takes me by the shoulders, encouraging me to lie where she was a second ago.

  I don’t argue. She’s had little control over the things that have happened during the past week, so if she’s looking for power, she can sure as hell have it. As soon as I’m reclined on the pillows she lowers the zipper on her dress and lifts it over her head.

  She’s braless, which I should’ve expected with the cleavage she’s rocking, and my cock jerks at the sight of her nipples. All that’s left is the pink lace panties with pale gray satin ribbons woven at the edges. Everything about her is fucking perfect.

  Her expression is the tiniest bit uncertain until I wrap my hand around my cock and give it a slow stroke. “How long are you planning to torture me from over there?”

  That gets a grin out of her. She hooks a finger under the lace band around her waist and drags it slowly over her hips and down her thighs.

  This woman is a goddamn vision. She’s tanned and toned, long legs and sexy curves. And that sweet, bare pussy. I bet she tastes as amazing as she looks. “Fuck, your body,” I mutter.

  “That’s the plan,” she says as she drops a knee beside my thigh and straddles my hips.

  She traces my lips with her fingers and whispers, “Open.”

  So I do, without thinking, because she’s gorgeous and naked and looking to ride my cock.

  She slips her fingertip into my mouth. “Suck.”

  I chuckle, but do as she asks, watching her teeth press into her lip. She trades her index finger for her middle finger, so I suck that, too. I don’t know why it takes me until she drops her hand, ready to hit the sweet spot between her thighs, to clue in to what she’s doing.

  “Oh, hell no.” I grab her hand and latch onto the other one, too, just to be safe.

  Her irritated confusion is fucking adorable. “What’re you doing?”

  “If I’m fucking you, I’m prepping you. I get to do that.” She’s all delicate bones and narrow wrists, so I can easily hold them with one hand.

  This time I’m the one slipping a finger into her mouth, telling her to suck. And she does. Her cheeks hollow out, and I think about what her mouth will feel like wrapped around my cock. Hopefully we’ll have a chance to get to that later. I drag a single finger along her slit, circling her clit a few times before I go lower and find her hot and wet. Easing in, I watch her mouth drop open and her lids lower.

  After a few slow pumps, I add a second finger, and curl forward, getting the sweetest moan in response. I release her hands and lean in to suck one of those pretty little nipples of hers into my mouth while I rub on her clit with my thumb.

  She breathes out, “Oh God,” and threads her fingers through my hair, keeping my mouth locked around her nipple.

  “You still want me to fuck you.” It’s mostly a statement and not a question.

  “You better not be thinking about stopping now.”

  I chuckle and fumble around for my pants, which are thankfully still on the bed and search for my wallet. I still have my fingers inside her and I’m trying to maintain some kind of rhythm since every pump and curl causes her to moan. Flipping my wallet open, I find a pair of condoms. Amalie tears one free. Using her teeth, she rips it open and then rolls it on. She nudges my hand out of the way so she can run the head over her clit. And then she sinks down.

  Her sharp inhalation and the way her eyes widen are a good indicator she’s taking it too fast.

  I grab onto her hips to keep her still and steady. Sweet mother of fuck, she feels incredible. “Easy. I don’t want to break this perfect pussy.”

  She snorts and rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t fight my hold. I lower her slowly, watching my cock disappear inside her until her ass rests on my thighs. Amalie’s nails dig into my shoulders and she makes a delicious, needy sound.

  “See, I’m not broken,” she says, all soft-sweet.

  “You’re fucking incredible.” A perfect, snug place to keep my cock buried.

  She lets out this breathy little laugh.

  I trail my fingers over her breast, gently skimming her nipple. “You ready to be fucked?”

  Her cheeks flush, and then her lip curls up at the corner. “Are you?”

  “Fuck yeah.” I lace my hands behind my head and lean back against the pillows. “Have at it, baby.”

  She snorts. “Could you be any more cocky?”

  “I don’t know, you’re the one who’s full of mine, you tell me.”

  “You should shut up and just lie there and look good so you don’t ruin this for me.”r />
  I’m about to give her some of that sass back, but she clamps a hand over my mouth. She leans in close, until her nipples brush my chest. “Shh. The only thing you should be doing with that mouth is kissing me.”

  She drops her palm and sucks on my bottom lip while she rolls her hips. “Oh God.” She does it again, her tongue sweeping my mouth at the same pace as she rocks in my lap. She goes slow at first, but it doesn’t take long for her seek more friction, swiveling faster, rocking harder.

  “Jesus. That just . . . oh God. I can feel that right—” She stops talking against my lips. Gripping one shoulder, she pushes back enough so she can see me clearly and I can see her. She grabs my jaw with the other hand, her eyes are wide, shock and desire making them bright. “I can’t—every time, you’re hitting that spot every damn time.”

  She makes this noise as she shifts again—if pleasure was a sound, this would be it.

  “Are you gonna come?” I ask.

  “I-I-I—” She trembles violently.

  I grab her hips on the next roll and shift as she grinds down.

  “Oh, fuck,” she groans. “Do that again.”

  “Do this?” I lift her up a couple of inches and drop her back down.

  “Again,” she orders.

  I’m all about pleasing her, so I comply.

  Her mouth is less than an inch from mine. “Harder.”

  I grip her hips, feel the tension in her body, the way she’s fighting against me. “Harder?”

  “Fuck me like you’re supposed to,” she grits through clamped teeth, her frustration obvious, but it’s more than that. She’s so close to coming.

  I stop holding her back. Instead, I help pull her down as I lift my hips.

  Her eyes go wide. “Yessss.”

  “Again?” I ask.

  “Just like that.”

  And so I do. And she comes. Violently. Her nails dig in, cutting my skin. She has absolutely no control over her body, so I keep pumping while she shakes and chants oh God, oh God, oh God. She’s gorgeous when she’s falling apart.

  I grab her chin. “Look at me.”

  She struggles to open her eyes, but eventually she manages to lift her lids and meet my gaze.