by Bennett, Liv
DELAYED DELIVERY
Liv Bennett
Copyright © 2013 by Liv Bennett
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Also by Liv Bennett
AN ILLICIT PURSUIT (PURSUIT, #1) FREE on Amazon
THE PURSUIT OF PASSION (PURSUIT, #2) on Amazon
THE EVERLASTING PURSUIT (PURSUIT, #3) - November 2013
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TABLE OF CONTENT
Delayed Delivery
Chapter 1 - TAYLOR
Chapter 2 – ADAM
Read an Excerpt from An Everlasting Pursuit (PURSUIT, #3)
About The Author
DELAYED DELIVERY
Adam Garnett has been pursuing Taylor Doheny for several years. Now that he has her, he won’t let her slip out of his hands so easily. And he has a special plan to keep her with him forever. A plan full of seduction and lust.
An erotic short story around 6000 words or twenty pages.
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Due to strong language and descriptive sex scenes, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
CHAPTER 1 - TAYLOR
Less than four months ago, I was attacked by the crazy half-sister of my deceased husband for the money I’d inherited after his death. She wiped out an entire family to avenge the childhood she hadn’t gotten, for her father hadn’t recognized her as his own daughter.
As vicious as she was, I was saved from her malicious plans thanks to Adam. He and his deep and passionate love saved me from my possible downfall after learning the truth behind my husband’s death.
Now, I can’t help but feel the same deep, passionate love for Adam, the man who has loved me for years without receiving anything in return. Without even a miniscule hope that I might love him back. And, even when Jack, my deceased husband and Adam’s best friend, was alive, Adam didn’t give up on me.
On us.
I may not be fully recovered from my depression, but Adam’s love is keeping me standing. If I’m completely honest, though, it’s actually his skills in bed, the never-decreasing lust, that’s distracting me from the potentially hurtful thoughts. His tall, muscled figure, sun-kissed, hot skin, dark brown waves of hair that reach his shoulder would be enough to make a nun lust after him, but his allure goes beyond that. It’s his piercing eyes that promise to employ every mischievous tactic to rip dizzying climaxes, one after another, out of me and ignite fires in the depths of my soul after those mind-blowing orgasms.
Having shared Adam’s bed for several months, living under the same roof as lovers, I’ve actually started feeling truly and completely happy. So unbelievably happy that I find myself panicking each and every time I think of my future with Adam.
I wonder whether I’ll end up being his next ex, if he’ll drop me as soon as the next best girl sweeps him off his feet. After all, he left his ex-girlfriend of four years for me, although there wasn’t even a chance of Adam and me being together, as I’d been dating Jack at that time.
I had clinical depression after Jack’s death; I’ll probably end up in a psychiatric ward, if Adam leaves me someday.
Adam and I do the same thing every day. Sex, shower, breakfast—not always in that order—then work our asses off until late in the evening. He goes out jogging while I nap or read a book, then we cook our dinner and eat. It’s between ten and twelve at night when we retire to our bedroom, talking, making love, and talking some more.
Adam loves talking about his dreams and future plans. And, more often than not, those plans include having kids, catching a Lakers’ game with his kids, building a basketball area and a swimming pool for his kids in the backyard of our future home, taking the said kids to Disneyland and the San Diego Zoo, or anywhere else that has a picture of a cartoon or an animal on it. So much talking of children.
When I try and remind him my failure to conceive, he just waves his hand and settles himself between my legs. As if his penis can cure anything in its way.
Almost five months into our relationship, I leave for New York to help my sister, Lindsay, while she’s recovering from a broken leg. As much as I wish for his company, Adam stays in L.A. to prepare the bids for a major project we’re planning to take over.
When I step onto the plane, pain spasms through my chest; the result of thinking about the one week I won’t see Adam. It’s scary to feel so strongly for a man. So much more for a man like Adam. He’ll be without me and surrounded by all sorts of women. I count the days until the flight back to L.A., although I cherish each and every day I get to spend with my sister.
As soon as the plane lands at LAX and the seatbelt lights turn off, I jump to my feet and claim my space in the tiny isle of the plane. I consider skipping the baggage claim to throw myself into Adam’s arms sooner, but then I remember the gifts I bought for him. Gifts I hope will bring a smile to his lips.
Once I gather my suitcase, I pace toward the exit. Luckily, Adam isn’t difficult to spot, and he’s the first one I see when I go through the exit gate, as if he’s holding a spotlight above his head. My breath catches in my throat, and my stomach flips with excitement and anxiety. The world stops at that moment, and everything else revolves around him, as if he’s the sun, giving life to everything else around him.
I can’t help but run to his arms, not caring about anyone around me, like a teenage girl to her long-missed lover. Only at that moment, once again wrapped in his arms, do I realize his hold on me has become unbreakable.
It wouldn’t be alarming if I had complete trust in him.
It was our first separation, and I feel like a year has passed since the last time I saw him, not just a week. My lady bits must have the exact same feelings, because as soon as I am in his arms, raw, hot juices, which will soon shower Adam’s cock, begin flowing. My cock!
I’m so needy and hungry for him, I won’t be able to wait until we get home to feel his hot lips on every inch of my body.
“I missed you.” Adam wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me up. His lips brush mine softly, and I inhale his hot, spicy scent.
“Not as much as I missed you.” Unable to wait longer, I capture his lips and open up for his tongue, savoring the minty taste of him and the aggressive invasion of his tongue. My arms lock his body against mine, and I press my chest against his, willing to absorb all the heat of his skin, to mash our bodies together.
Our reunion cuddling is short-lived, though, because he puts me down and pulls away. I try to keep my lips attached to his skin, brushing his chin, leaving small kisses below it, then licking his throat.
He clears his throat, his skin warm and blushing, and whispers to my ear, “There are kids around here.”
I stop kissing, but my arms are still around him, my chest rubbing against his. “Then, take me to the nearest restroom. I’m dying to feel you inside me.”
A long, guttural growl vibrates his chest, and his smoldering eyes meet mine. “You’ll ha
ve to wait until we get home.”
“I can’t wait that long.” I grind my hips against his. Feeling his hardening cock quickly sends little jolts of electricity through my pelvis, reminding me of the last time I had him. I want so badly to feel his thick cock forcing its huge size deep into me, throbbing inside me, insulting my inner walls with delicious pain.
He shakes his head, most likely aware of my X-rated daydream, and a sly grin crosses his lips. “To the car,” he orders and grabs my suitcase with one hand and my hand with the other to pull me forward.
I follow him, hoping he’ll at least extinguish my fire with his two insolent digits, though they’ll probably increase my appetite for his cock more than anything else. He pays for the parking, and we hurry to the car.
He opens the door for me, and I lean forward, rubbing my back against his groin before I climb in. I haven’t been this naughty in my entire life. I can’t believe a man could have the power to turn me into a puddle of lust without even trying.
He shakes his head, his narrow eyes hinting at all the furious things he’ll do to me for my naughtiness. For later. I can’t postpone it any longer, so I settle in the passenger seat, reach for my moist panties beneath my skirt, and take them off, handing them to him as soon as he sits behind the wheel.
Surprise and amusement soften his features, as he whiffs them and attaches his eyes to my legs, which are mostly bare because I’m pulling the skirt ever so slowly upwards. I’d rather he yanked my skirt away and shoved his manhood into me, but he won’t, so I have to torture him into it. I roll the skirt all the way up to my waist, displaying my nude pelvis.
Rather than launching onto me as I hope, he pushes my skirt down and looks around with an alarmed expression hardening his face. “What the fuck are you doing? There are cameras all around us.”
I’m crestfallen, upset by his hostile rejection. It’s not like we didn’t have sex before in the car at places with an abundance of cameras.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he says when he notices the shock on my face and leans toward me for a kiss. “Let’s get home first, okay?”
I nod, still resentful at his unusual disinterest and make it a point to remain silent throughout the ride. It’s hard to maintain my calm, when he’s at a kissing distance and his hot, manly scent spreading all through the car.
Back at home, I head directly to the bedroom to change and grab my bathrobe to hit the shower, hoping Adam will follow me in and give me a mind-blowing orgasm under the water. My hopes crash when he walks out of the bedroom, still fully clothed.
What the hell is his problem now? We aren’t in public, nor are we surrounded by cameras. What is his excuse for not having sex with me in the privacy of his home?
“Adam,” I call and wait for him to come back, trying to keep my frustration out of my voice. “Won’t you have a shower with me?”
He shakes his head no, lifting an eyebrow. Something must be seriously wrong for him to decline an offer of sex. “I’ll cook the dinner.”
Who cares about the dinner, unless it’s served on my naked body and he licks the food off of me? I don’t. Obviously. “I’m not hungry for food; I’m hungry for you, baby.”
One of his trademark smiles that radiate panty-dropping sensuality plays across his lips, and I melt, as if I weren’t already horny for him. “Let’s eat first, and we need to talk, too.”
“Talk about what?” I survey his face to figure out what is going on in his mind. What kind of talk is it that he can’t touch me before getting it out of his mind?
“Just wait. Take your shower and come to the kitchen, will you?”
“Tell me now what it is,” I say the words slowly to emphasize my curiosity and growing angst. “Did you do something during my absence?” I pause for a moment for his reaction, wondering why he’s being so adamant about keeping me in dark. “Did you… cheat on me?”
“Here we go again.”
“Did you?”
“Of course not.” He approaches me, slips his strong arms around my waist, and gives me a soft kiss on the forehead. “I’m flattered by your jealousy, but I don’t want you worrying about something that’ll never happen. Instead, worry about how to keep your vagina in shape for several rounds of exhausting sexual gymnastics, because I’m going to fuck you ’til you pass out.”
I sigh and wait for the little tremor his words are giving me to run its course. “Why don’t you do that now? I’m in desperate need of passing out. I haven’t passed out for such a long time I’ve forgotten how delicious it feels.”
He laughs, pulls away from me—again!—and heads out of the bedroom without saying a word, leaving me alone in my deprivation.
I soap my body three times in the shower, while waiting for him to change his mind at the last minute, then give up, and get out.
On our bed lies a red, mini dress and matching lace panties with a note on top of them.
I’d love to see you in this dress. I’ve got a little surprise for you. Don’t keep me waiting for too long.
He’s got to talk. I smile and grab the dress to analyze the style of clothing Adam prefers. Skimpy is the only description I can find for this barely-there, super-short, halter-cut dress. There’s no way he’ll go without burying himself deep into me when he sees this on me.
I slip into it without a bra, tie the straps lightly so he can untie them with ease, and put on the panties. They’re clearly a size or two too small for me, and I guess that’s Adam intention, because they nestle tightly between the lips of my labia rather than covering them.
Looking at the reflection of my swollen lips bulging around the silk fabric, I can’t help but start rubbing my thighs to release the tension. Soon my hand slides down to massage my swollen, wet folds and the other hand begins fondling my breast beneath the dress.
The thought of Adam catching me in the act excites my nerve endings like they’ve never been. Would he insist on his silly surprise or just fuck me on the spot? I bet he wouldn’t even lose a second to pin me against the mirror and take me from behind.
I sigh as I think of his hand pushing the panties aside, running along through my wetness, and his eyes fucking me together with his fingers. He’s under the same roof with me, just a few feet away, and can do all those things, but I can’t seem to stop pinching my nipple or rubbing around my slippery entrance. It’ll only take shoving my fingers inside to make me explode.
Goddamn Adam, for leaving me so needy and deprived that I have to get off with my own fingers.
“Taylor,” Adam roars at the doorway, and I jerk back with shock. “Stop it, right now.” He strides toward me and yanks my hand away from my sex. “You haven’t come yet, have you?” He lifts my hand up to his lips and sucks off the juices around my fingers.
I ease into his arms and sneak a leg around his to rub myself onto him. “Make me come now, please. I’m so close.”
“You need to wait,” he says with voice soft, layered with lust, his posture stiff. Obviously, it’s causing him a lot of strain to not give me what I want; his rock-hard cock, that is. “It’ll be all the more satisfying when you get my surprise.”
I moan a loud noise of complaint, my insides still hot and needy for the approaching release. “It better be a damn fantastic one to calm me after being so close.”
“It most definitely will.”
He eases out of my tight hold and grabs my hand to guide me to the living room. Walking isn’t something I want to do right now, but I follow him anyway.
The kitchen is dimly lit with candle lights only, and there’s a tall dressing mirror beside the kitchen door. The aromatic smell of the food manages to distract me from my sexual high, and my stomach reacts with an almost inaudible growl. Almost, because Adam’s high-alert ears detect even the tiniest of noises, including the small ones from my stomach, and I blush at the recognition on his face.
“You haven’t eaten for several hours, have you?” he asks, accusingly.
I shake my head, aware of my mi
stake. He doesn’t say anything further, but I know what he’s thinking. I should be eating regularly and healthy food to improve my health and get back my fertility. He’s so obsessed with it I’ve wonder whether he’ll still want me if I get diagnosed with untreatable infertility.
“I had breakfast,” I find myself explaining. “I couldn’t stomach anything before the flight, because I was too nervous to see you again.”
A tender smile replaces the brief irritation, and he pulls out a chair for me to sit, then serves the food. It’s ravioli with mushroom-cream sauce. My favorite comfort food of all times. One month into our relationship, Adam managed to bribe my aunt to get her secret recipe, so he could wrap me around his finger. As if he needed a dish to reach that goal.
“You missed me, too, didn’t you?” I smile and dig into my plate. Oh, heaven. It’s exactly like my aunt used to prepare it when I was little.
He flashes me a full-tooth smile and pats my hand gently. “It’s a little bribe to get you to do what I want later on.”
“Oh, baby. Haven’t you seen how itchy I was just a minute ago? I’ll cave into anything to get my lady parts scratched, with or without a bribe.”
He pours us white wine, and we toast to health and love and indulge ourselves in the small feast he prepared for us. Then comes the desert; chocolate cheesecake topped with whipped cream. He doesn’t seem to care about me eating from my plate, though, because he scoops a liberal amount of the cream and spreads it on my shoulder, before leaning in and wiping it off with his tongue. Now, that’s what I’m talking about.
The spoon in my hand drops to the floor, making a loud noise, accompanying my deep moan. He repeats the same thing on my other shoulder, and I close my eyes to enjoy the raw sensation his lips are leaving on my skin.
His hand grips mine and urges me to get up. I part my eyes, confused about our desert plans, and walk with him toward the curious mirror. He flips me so I face the mirror, and stands behind me, his arms wrapped tightly just beneath my breasts.
“I’m still in awe of how I could possibly have such a beautiful, caring woman loving me.” He stares at my reflection as if he’s watching a shooting star. His hands linger at the valley between my breasts before cupping the two globes. His hard erection is pressed deliciously against my back. “And, we fit perfectly, don’t you think?”