The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories

by Brina Courtney

  She smiled and ran the tip of her tongue over her upper lip. And then her eyes rolled back, and she moaned, “Ahhh.”

  “That’s it, baby. I know you’re close, but don’t rush it. Feel it, explore it, learn to control it.”

  She kept moaning with her mouth wide open. That made me so hard and so fucking ready, that I wanted to forget all I just told her and drive inside her hard and fast, finding my own release. Instead, my hand guided the tip of my shaft in slow, tiny circles over her hard clit. It pressed against my small opening, and I swore in pleasure. I rubbed some more, the air hissing through my clenched teeth. Lisbeth panted, begging for orgasm.

  “Soon, baby,” I promised.

  I threw the covers to the side and went down on her, until my mouth closed over her drenched pussy. I sucked her, plunging my tongue inside her, licking in long, insistent swirls. My upper lip pressed on her clit, while my tongue licked in and out of her. Lisbeth clenched the sheet in her fists, rolling her hips and whispering, “Now, oh, God. Now, please, Ethan, please. Now, I want it now.” That was so erotic, so pure, that I almost came right then.

  But I held back. I wanted to play with her and give her multiple orgasms before it was time for my own release. “Come right after I kiss your clit,” I instructed.

  She did. I loved how well she responded to me, how submissive she already was.

  I glided my fingers over her glistening cleft, dipping them slightly in to skim some of her sweet essence. I trailed wet kisses all the way to her breasts. Coating her nipples in her arousal. I sucked and gently bit on one, while plumping the swollen flesh of her other breast in my hand. I rolled the elongated, hard nipple in my fingers.

  Lisbeth pressed her knees onto my sides, confining me in. I slid my hands under her buttocks and cupped them, positioning her just right to plunge inside her tight slit with my cock. And I did—hard and deep. She gasped. I drove in and out of her, my heavy balls slamming onto her butt. With every thrust her breasts beautifully jiggled up and down, mesmerizing me. I watched them in appreciation.

  I clutched her butt, my fingers digging into her flesh, and rotated her hips once, twice, three times. She understood what I wanted and continued swiveling them to the rhythm of my pounding. Her breath grew labored, and she pleaded, “I want to come again. I’m so close. How do you do this to me? Please, Ethan. Please.”

  “Come for me and squeeze me with your pussy. Let me feel it,” I murmured against her lips.

  That did her in. Her hips bucking, she cried out a short and guttural, incoherent scream. And another one. Fuck, that was so hot. Her eyes flew open and she stared at me. Another, even lower cry escaped her, and I clenched my teeth, smiling at her. “That’s it baby.” I buried my cock to the hilt and stilled for a moment. Then, I slammed into her three times. She came once more, squeezing her knees into me. I kept pulsing inside her, moving much gentler than a moment before.

  “How do you do that?” she gasped between short breaths.

  “Do what?”

  “All of it. You have already given me several orgasms, but you don’t show any signs of coming yourself,” she said.

  I grinned at her. “I’m not done with you, babe.”

  Her eyes went wide. “More orgasms?”

  “You object?”

  “No.” She smiled weakly. “But I might need a nap.”

  “And a breakfast.” I kissed her slowly, moving my hard length leisurely in and out of her, until I stopped. My cock was quivering, demanding a rough and rapid ride. I ignored it—for now.

  Lisbeth wrapped her arms around my neck, and whispered in my ear. “I want to suck you.”

  “You will get your chance another time. Not today.”

  “Oh?”

  I laughed. “So impatient. I regret we aren’t in my house.”

  She started moving her hips in small circles, lifting them up and down at the same time. She wanted more. Good.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because I would curb that impatience of yours with some very special tools.”

  She opened her mouth and stared at me, horrified. “Tools?”

  “Toys. I promise you will love them all. But now be quiet. No more talking,” I demanded. I slammed hard into her.

  Her body responded immediately: warm, thick liquid trickled from her swollen tissues and onto my shaft, intensifying the wet smacking sound of our colliding bodies. I loved it.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked.

  She closed her eyes, licking her lips in the most sensual way.

  “Tell me. Do you hear that, babe?” I insisted.

  “Yes.” Lisbeth breathed out. “Oh, right there,” she whimpered, when I rotated my hips, angling my cock so its base rubbed harder on her clit.

  I increased my speed, thrusting firmly. My left hand gripped her throat, while I balanced my weight on my right arm. She felt so damn good, so tight, and wet. I knew I would never get enough of her.

  “Ethan! Harder!” she insisted.

  I slammed into her. Our bed was rocking and squeaking. If there were hotel guests in the room below us, they would know exactly what was going on in here. But that wasn’t my concern. Lisbeth and her pleasure were. And mine too.

  Lisbeth bit on her hand and moaned. “Ahhh, Ethan. You’re so amazing. You feel so... ahhh!” She clutched onto me with both hands, and came hard.

  I grinned, still pumping into her.

  “I can’t stop,” she panted. “So good. Oh, so good!”

  She closed her eyes, her muscles shaking. When she started to relax, I pulled out to cool off my raging desire. I closed my mouth over hers, soothing her, quieting her whimpers. And then I drove into her again and again, finding my own release, spurting hot seed into her snug, wet pussy.

  We lay, wrapped in one another’s arms, kissing and touching, me still inside her, her—tight around me. We fit perfectly as if we were made for each other. She looked sated and content, with her cheeks glowing and her eyes half-closed and heavy.

  “Lisbeth,” I started.

  She didn’t open her eyes, only murmured lazily, “Mhm?”

  “Don’t go to Florida. Stay here... with me.” These two short sentences came out so fast and so easy. I would’ve never thought possible to say them to anyone. I’ve never wanted to say anything like this to anyone. But there was no doubt in my mind I did the right thing. My only hope was she would agree.

  She looked at me, her eyes wide with surprise. Then something flickered in her expression, and her lips parted. She smiled and took a deep, slow breath. “Ethan... nobody has ever made me as happy and safe as you do,” she whispered. “I want to be with you. All along, you were my missing piece of that puzzle called life. I’ve never been with anyone like you.”

  I smiled, and at that moment my heart finally was ready to belong to one woman. The one who resisted me and then changed me. Forever.

  THE END

  RESIST ME is the first installment in the steamy Change Me (McCoy Raven Brothers) romantic suspense series. All books in this series are standalone and can be read in no particular order, but they interconnect. HEA and no cliffhangers.

  Book two in the series is scheduled for release in December 2014.

  OTHER BOOKS BY A.O. PEART

  Almost Bad Boys series

  (Adult humorous romantic comedy)

  The Forged series

  (Young Adult paranormal/urban fantasy)

  If you enjoyed reading Resist Me, please post a review on Goodreads, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online bookstores.

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  THE MAN TEST

  AMANDA AKSEL

  CHAPTER ONE

  Love and Las Vegas

  The truth will set you free. And yet, people have a tendency to keep secrets and difficult feelings from those they love. I observed this occurrence regularly. Even now as my patient let out a sigh of defeat. Forty-five minutes of attempted honest communication with her husband had been wasted due to her overuse of tact and ambiguity. Her long silence was my cue.

  “Abby, you’re not being very clear. Be honest and tell Dylan what you need. Go on,” I said as if urging a child not to be afraid. She lifted her eyes to meet Dylan’s and took his hand. Her mouth opened, but she hesitated. I gestured her to continue as she glanced my way for assurance. She took a deep breath and straightened her posture.

  “I need more passion in our sex life.” She blurted the words like she’d waited years to say them. Dylan flinched slightly. “There’s no spontaneity with us. You’re always asking me, ‘do you want to have sex?’ I want you to stop asking and just do it! I want you to pick me up and throw me on the bed. You know, just really give it to me. How come you never pick me up?”

  “You’re too heavy,” he said.

  I shot him an incredulous look, unintentionally of course. Abby did the same.

  “I’m not too heavy. You’re not strong enough!”

  Their insults ensued, each nastier and more spiteful than the last. Every second increased their volume and pace and quickly spiraled out of control. I grabbed the whistle from around my neck and blew hard. Abby and Dylan’s heads whipped in my direction.

  “Time out,” I said calmly. “Let’s not criticize each other.” They turned spitefully from one another and each rolled their eyes like spoiled children.

  “Dylan, I understand this can be difficult to hear, but Abby is trying to be open with you about her needs. How do you feel about her suggestions?”

  “I’m not into what she is into. Is that so wrong?” Dylan offered while resting his elbows on his legs. His chin drifted down.

  “It’s not wrong, but we always do it your way. I’m just asking for you to do it my way sometimes,” Abby said.

  He remained still and silent, so I leaned in and asked, “You love Abby, right?”

  “Of course.” He lifted his head.

  “Does she make you happy?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “You want her to be happy too, right?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Then why don’t you try Abby’s way tonight? One night can’t hurt. Who knows, you might find that you really enjoy it.” He nodded half-heartedly at my proposal. Abby smiled and rubbed his shoulder. They left my office happier than when they came in, and that progress gave me a sense of accomplishment.

  My father used to say, “Those who stand for nothing fall for anything.” The only thing I could ever stand for completely was love. I’m not talking about the butterflies, can’t eat, can’t sleep kind of love, but the morning breath, movie night in, grow old together love. My affinity for love can be traced back to my childhood obsession with happily ever after fairy tales and witnessing the deep love between my parents and even my grandparents. It gave me a sense of believing, of knowing that there was a great love out there just for me. Not just me, but I believed this to be true for everyone. Standing up for real love gave me a purpose and a passion for my profession. It was my mission to remind couples of the heartfelt reasons they got together and to help them stay together. I won’t be so bold as to say I’m a relationship expert, but I’ve helped absent men become present husbands, set wandering eyes straight, and fueled fire back into sexless marriages.

  I glanced at the clock. Time to collect my things and head home to finish packing for a weekend-long bachelorette party in Vegas for my dear friend, Rachel. Diana, our office assistant, sat at the front desk typing with only her index fingers. For the most part she was a wonderful assistant, except for one thing; she had a way of making short, simple answers unnecessarily long and drawn out. Not overly informative or longwinded, she just spoke too slowly, which was fine if you had an hour to kill. I didn’t have minutes to spare.

  “Diana?” I tried to look rushed as I approached.

  “Oh, hellooo, Marin . . . how are you?” she said sweetly as she stood with her fingertips touching near her chest, a classic move that always preempted long conversations. I needed to be quick.

  “Great, thanks. I wanted to remind you that I’m leaving for a long weekend and will be back Tuesday. If you need me, call my cell, okay?”

  She smiled, but it quickly faded into her conversational entrapment look again.

  “Oh, okay . . . You have a message. Would you like me to read it to you?”

  “No, that’s okay. Can you email it to me?”

  “Oh, um . . . yes. I guess I can do that. Okay.”

  I thanked her before rushing out of the office and around the corner to the elevator, which was as slow as Diana’s speech. Its open doors seemed to wait patiently while my least favorite associate, Andy, gabbed on his phone inside.

  “Hold the elevator!” I hurried forward, clutching my oversized purse to my side. He glanced at me, still talking on his phone, but did nothing as the doors began to close. I managed to wedge my body between the doors at the last second. As I squeezed in, I tumbled to the ground. My poor shoe, lodged between the steel teeth, completely detached from my foot. The elevator began to move. I pushed my hair out of my face and rescued my Ralph Lauren pump.

  Andy hung up. “You all right?”

  “I’m fine, no thanks to you,” I said, catching my breath.

  “Sorry,” he said, not taking his eyes from his phone. I gave him a sour look, and held up my beloved navy pump, after noticing a decent scratch on the heel.

  “Look what you made me do.”

  “Me? I’m not the one who made a mad dash into a closing elevator.”

  “It wouldn’t have closed if you’d held it open,” I said through clenched teeth as I continued to put myself back together.

  For the few years I had known Andy, there had always been a rift between us. Something about his east coast arrogance made me defensive. Andy was a cynic and some of his ideas about human relationships were appalling.

  The shoe eaters reopened as we arrived on the first floor. Andy stepped out.

  “Run faster next time.” A sarcastic grin spread across his face before he walked away with his usual haughty stride.

  Once I made it outside of the building, with both shoes on my feet, I breathed in the warm San Francisco air. I was looking forward to the long weekend escape with my friends. Barely beginning my six-block commute home, my cell phone rang. I reached into my purse touching everything except my phone. The call was moments from going to voicemail. Gotcha! And just in time.

  “Hey, it’s me,” said my best friend, Telly, a divorce lawyer who lived and worked in the city. I’d met her in passing after her client became my patient. Needless to say the client didn’t need her services after I was through with her and her husband.

  “You excited about Vegas?” I asked.

  “Yeah, after the day I’ve had, I’m most definitely ready for Sin City.”

  “What happened?”

  “Ugh, it’s Grayson. He’s being such a whiny bitch.” Grayson was her lover, one who mistakenly started saying things like love and marriage—two red flags to Telly. “I’m like ‘what do you want from me, kids and a white picket fence?’ I don’t think so dude. Get yourself a wife and give me some ass.” She cackled.

  I laughed too. “Is that what you said to him?”

  “Yeah, right. He’d probably start crying. I just told him that it is what it is. I never gave him any reason to believe it would be more. I didn’t lead him on, and if he can’t handle it then I’m sorry.”

  “At least you were honest.” I shrugged, poor Grayson.

  “That’s
right! I am honest. He’s the one who said he could handle it. Now he says he has to think about it. Pfff! No, I’m done.”

  “I guess another one bites the dust,” I said.

  “You know I don’t sugar coat anything.” It was true. Telly was brutally honest, and never neglected to put in her two cents, especially when it was unsolicited. Some called her coarse, but I appreciated that about her. I could always count on her to tell me the truth.

  Five increasingly steep blocks later, I arrived at my building and climbed the stoop. Mine was the first apartment on the right, number 102. True to San Francisco real estate standards, it was “cozy.” I loved everything about it from the dark stained hardwood floors to the close proximity to work and the park. But what I loved most about coming home was coming home to someone, my fiancé Chad.

  Since we were only months away from getting married, we decided it was time to share our living space. Mounds of Chad’s half-empty moving boxes blocked my path as I made my way through the living room.

  “Hey, Babe!” he said, smiling from the kitchen as he fed vegetables into a juicer. Yum. Chad’s toned, personal-trainer body that is, not the veggie juice.

  “Hey.” I ran to him with open arms. He held me tight and kissed the top of my head, making a sweet muffled kissing sound.

  “Are you all packed?”

  “No, I still have more to do, and I don’t have much time.”

  Chad sat with me while I crammed more outfits into my already overstuffed suitcase, his eyes gazing at me as if he had to have me. I wanted him too. I struggled to lift it from the bed.

  “Let me do that.” Chad moved it to the floor.

  “Thank you. It’s gonna be nice having a man around the house.”

  “Well, now there’s more room on the bed.” His eyes set on mine a moment before he grabbed me and kissed my neck. With his body pressed tightly against mine, he laid me on the bed. Our lips were locked and I wedged my hands between us to undo his belt.

  The sophisticated sound of Telly’s 7 Series BMW car horn beeped outside of my apartment.