Sack: Eligible Receivers

by Sarah Curtis

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “No. But I haven’t had much practice either. Let’s see… there’s been—”

  “Wait. Stop right there.”

  She looked to see Colt’s hands were gripping the steering wheel as tightly as her hand had been the door handle. If it were someone’s neck, they’d be dead.

  “I love your honesty, Ivy. I really do. But there are some truths I don’t need or want to know. And how many men you’ve slept with is one of them.”

  “Oh.” Then a light bulb clicked. “Oh.” She peeked a look at his tense jaw. “Are you jealous?”

  If possible, his jaw locked tighter, and she worried he would crack a molar.

  “Not jealous. Just information I don’t need in my head. Especially when I’m about to fuck you.”

  That was a lie. He was so jealous. The knowledge made her feel a bit more relaxed. But just a bit. “Anyway, as I was saying, I’m worried—”

  “I thought you were concerned. You’ve upgraded to worry?”

  “Concern and worry mean the same thing.”

  A few lines puckered his brow. “Worry is stronger than concern.”

  Ivy pulled out her phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m looking it up.”

  “Now?” He sounded incredulous. She had that effect on a lot of people.

  “Yes. I want to make sure I’m right.”

  “If I admit you’re right, can we get back to the topic at hand?”

  “No.” She heard him sigh but ignored it. She had that effect on people, too. “Just as I thought. The definition for concern is, worried, troubled, or anxious. And worried means anxious or troubled about actual or potential problems.”

  “So, by that definition, concern is broad and worry is more specific, hence making worry stronger.”

  Ivy scrolled down to the words’ origins and read that worry came from the Old English word wyrgan which meant strangle and concern stemmed from the French, meaning to be relevant to. Poodoo, Colt was right. Hating to be wrong, she quickly got back on point and hoped he didn’t notice she dropped the subject.

  “We’ll agree to disagree. As I was saying before—”

  “Wait. You’re giving up?” He leaned in her direction, trying to peek at her phone while still keeping an eye on the road. “What did you find?”

  Damn. “Nothing. I just think this is an argument that neither of us will win.”

  He grew silent and she could see the debate that warred in his head. Stick with it and maybe win the argument, or let it go. She internally sighed when he did the latter.

  “Fine. Now tell me what has you worried.”

  “I’m worried, with your vast experience, you’re going to find me lacking or not as exciting as your other partners.”

  “Just how experienced do you think I am?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. He sounded offended. Oops. “Well, you are a hot-shot celebrity. Don’t they get a lot of action?”

  He conceded her point with a head dip. “I suppose some do. But I’m not one of them.”

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “Fuck no.” He took his eyes off the road long enough to throw her an annoyed glance.

  Oops, again.

  “I’m just saying, I don’t bed a different woman every night or week or hell, month even.”

  “Oh.” She hoped she didn’t sound too disappointed. “Remember I said I read a lot? Well, I’ve read a fair share of romances and in them, the hot-shot celebrity always knows a lot of stuff.” She glanced over to find his eyes still on the road, before saying, “You know, erotic stuff.” She did get his eyes then, and they were heated. She quickly added, “I know books are fiction, but I was wondering, well, hoping really, if I’m honest, that there might be some tricks you can teach me?”

  His grip on the steering wheel grew so tight, his knuckles turned white, and his jaw tensed until the veins in his neck bulged. And was the car going faster? She glanced at the speedometer. “Have I made you angry?”

  “No.”

  “I hate to point it out at a time like this, but you seem angry.”

  “Not angry, in pain.” He didn’t take his eyes from the road.

  Was he hurt? “Pain?”

  “Your little speech made my dick so hard, my jeans are cutting off circulation.”

  “Oh.” Oh.

  “It’s taking all my control not to pull over to the side of the road, throw you in the backseat, and fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

  “I wouldn’t be against that.”

  She finally got his eyes. “Fuck, you’re killing me.” He moved his eyes back to the road. “We’ll be home in less than five minutes.”

  Slumping back into her seat, a small smirk tilted her lips, and she spent the rest of the trip to Colt’s house enjoying the smooth ride.

  Because she had a feeling the rest of the night would be deliciously bumpy.

  She hadn’t been wrong.

  The garage door hadn’t even finished closing by the time Colt was out of the car and opening her door. He pulled her out, but instead of ushering them into the house, he blocked her within the small space. His hands gripped the sides of her head, tilting it back, and he was kissing her.

  Her reaction to his first kiss hadn’t been a fluke.

  Heat instantly filled her, causing a whole-body shudder. Grabbing hold of the first thing she could find, her hands landed on his hips. She pulled him closer. Or maybe he moved in. Either way, she soon found him pressed to her.

  But that wasn’t good enough for either of them because, without breaking contact with her mouth, his hands moved to under her arms. He shifted her down the car, lifting her until just her tiptoes touched the ground, and pressed into her.

  Hard metal at her back, a harder man at her front, she was a very happy Ivy sandwich.

  He ripped his mouth from hers, his breathing harsh and gaze intense. His eyes traveled over each feature of her face only stopping when they reached her lips. He licked his. “I want you naked.”

  And because she wanted that, too, the only thing she could think to say was… “Yes, please.”

  Chapter Seven

  Colt

  Stooping slightly, Colt swept Ivy into his arms and cradled her against his chest. Her arms circled his neck, her fingers locking in his hair. He knocked his hip into the passenger door, closing it as he passed.

  “I’ve never been carried before. Well, I’m sure I was as a baby and small child but never as an adult.”

  “Then you’ve missed out.”

  She pulled her head back a little to look at him. “On being lazy?”

  He navigated the door leading into the house. “On kissing while being taken to the bedroom.”

  If she intended to reply, he didn’t give her the chance. He pressed his lips to hers, his tongue seeking the taste he craved.

  The taste of Ivy.

  In the bedroom, he set her on her feet, only breaking the kiss to lift her t-shirt over her head. He was met with the swells of her breasts, showcased by light blue satin and lace. He cupped them with his hands and buried his face in her cleavage. He was a breast man, and she had a damn fine set. Licking along the edge of lace, hugging the swells of her tits, his dick throbbed, asking to be released from the tight confines of his jeans. But he had a more pressing matter at hand—stripping Ivy from the rest of her clothes.

  He was desperate to see her. Touch her. Taste all of her.

  He flicked open the clasp of her bra, pulled the straps down her arms, and tossed it to the floor. Her nipples puckered, begging for his mouth. He would give them his full attention later. In the meantime, he gave one a flick with his tongue on his way down to his knees. He undid the button and zipper on her jeans and tugged them until they pooled at her ankles. When she stepped out of them, he hooked a finger in the leg band of her panties and slipped another one in the gap.

  She made her first sound—a gasp—as his finger sank into h
er heat.

  His dick twitched, and he ripped open the button-fly of his jeans, giving it much needed relief.

  He breathed in the familiar fragrance of his laundry detergent mixed with her scent and the two combined did something crazy to his head. Adrenaline pumped through his system, speeding his heart rate.

  Enough fooling around. He needed the taste of her on his tongue. He tugged her panties down her legs.

  “Lie down on the bed and spread your legs.”

  “Um… I was thinking there might be more… before we got down to business.”

  “I’m going down, but it’s my mouth that will be doing the business.”

  “Oh. Oh!” She eagerly climbed on the bed, but she didn’t lie down. “I should probably tell you no one has ever done that to me before.”

  He went to the nightstand and flicked on the light then kicked off his jeans. Kneeling at the side of the bed, he grabbed her legs and pulled her to the edge. “Then you’re in for a treat. Lie back.”

  “Maybe you should turn off the light.”

  “No.”

  “Maybe close your eyes then?”

  He smirked. “No way.”

  He watched her breasts rise and fall in a sigh. “Maybe I should just build a bridge, lie back, and relax and forget your staring at my lady bits?”

  He grinned. “Yes. Because in less than a minute, you’re not going to care.”

  “Really?” She sounded intrigued and, thank fuck, excited.

  “Really.”

  “Well then,” she flopped back, “do your worst.”

  He took his time, trailing kisses up her inner thigh even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to dive right in, make her come fast to taste her arousal. But he forced himself to go slow. If this was her first time, he wanted it to be mind-blowing.

  He parted her with his fingers, sliding one through her wetness until he reached her clit.

  He circled.

  She moaned.

  His dick throbbed.

  Tugging down the waistband on his underwear, he grabbed his cock at the base and squeezed then exchanged his finger at her clit for his mouth. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her scent and sucked.

  He heard her gasp, and he sucked harder while he pumped his dick.

  Her legs relaxed, falling wide, and he slipped a finger inside her. So wet, he slid easily in and out. Adding another finger, he curved them, finding the right spot, and rubbed.

  Her hips bucked.

  He pumped his dick again. Fuck, that felt good.

  He twirled his tongue then blew. She shivered. He did it again and swirled his fingers faster.

  “Yes.” Her hands attacked his hair, pushing his face closer. Her hips bucked again. And again. She ground herself against his mouth and he moved his fingers faster.

  Dick forgotten, he used his hand to reach under her ass, lifting her higher.

  “Right there. Don’t stop.”

  He kept right at that spot. Keeping the tempo as he flicked her clit with his tongue until she came.

  Her whole body stilled as she arched, her thighs squeezing his head. She collapsed, quivers wracking her body as he dragged the last of her orgasm out.

  “Holy Sith.”

  He really needed to ask her what the hell that meant, but now definitely wasn’t the time.

  Her breasts rose and fell with her pants as she tried to catch her breath. “For the record, you can do that any time you want.”

  He didn’t bother hiding his smirk, damn proud of himself. “Noted.”

  She raised her head and grinned. And damn if that didn’t do something crazy to his head, too.

  Tangled sheets. Tangled limbs. Her softness against his hard. Her tits were right there, nipples puckered, calling out to him. He didn’t resist. Elbows to the bed he cupped them in his hands, drawing them together before leaning in to take a nipple into his mouth. He felt it tighten further as he traced it with his tongue. He shifted to the other and felt her squirm when he sucked on it. He made a mental note—the right was more sensitive than the left.

  Moving up, he trailed lips and skimmed teeth over the delicate skin of her collar bone, stopping at the juncture of her neck. He lightly nipped, grabbed her hips, and entered her.

  And found fucking nirvana.

  He established a rhythm they both liked—hard and fast.

  She was quiet other than a few low moans and soft hums, but she was not more-talk-less-action as she’d claimed. Her hands explored—his back, his ass. She liked digging her fingers into his hair and running her palms over its short length.

  And he liked touching her. Every inch of her was explored as he added to his mental list of things she liked.

  For next time.

  He still had Ivy under him, and he was already anticipating when he’d get to have her again.

  Moving inside her, he was close and finding it hard to keep the rhythm. But she was getting close, too. He could tell by the way her fingers dug into his skin and the frantic urgency of her movements. He just needed to hang on a little longer. “Ivy, babe, you almost there?”

  “Yes, so close.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Nothing. Just keep doing what you’re—Oh, yes.”

  He felt her come apart and he didn’t waste time. Just a few more strokes and he was right there with her.

  His balls tightened and a tingle traveled up his spine, his cock jerking as he came. Collapsing, he panted into her neck. “Fuck.”

  Sex with Ivy had been nothing like he expected. Yes, he’d thought it would be good because, let’s face it, any sex was good sex. But for the first time in his thirty-two years, he now knew what great sex was.

  And he’d just had it with Ivy.

  Ivy

  Ivy wasn’t sure what the next move was. Did she get up and leave? Because that’s what friends with benefits did, right? She peeked at Colt. She knew he wasn’t asleep, but his eyes were closed. That gave her no clues.

  She wasn’t sure what Colt expected—they hadn’t set up a rule for that—but after what had transpired between them, it felt wrong to just up and leave.

  She was awkward in the best of situations and this was far from normal. At least for her. She blamed her brilliant idea on the kiss. If it hadn’t been so awesome, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. Her hormones had clouded her thinking. She didn’t regret sleeping with Colt—she could never regret that—but she also hadn’t expected it to affect her so deeply.

  She sat up, shifting to the edge of the bed and throwing her legs over.

  “Where are you going?”

  She looked over her shoulder to find Colt’s eyes on her. “Home.” It wasn’t a question, but it could’ve been.

  “Without a car?”

  “I’ll order an Uber.”

  A frown wrinkled his brow as he got up on an elbow. “You don’t need to leave.”

  She shrugged. “Staying feels like it’s crossing a line.”

  His frown deepened and something worked behind his eyes. “Doesn’t make sense to go all the way home just to come back in the morning.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. “That’s true.”

  His frown disappeared. “Good. Then it’s settled. You’re staying.” He flopped back with an arm behind his head and closed his eyes. “Lie down.”

  She reached over and clicked off the lamp then got situated under the covers. She flopped to her right side, decided it was rude to give Colt her back so rolled over to her left. Did it seem like she was staring at him? She rolled to her back. That was neutral. Right? Her pillow was at a weird angle for back-sleeping. She sat up and fluffed it. She kicked her legs, untrapping her feet from the sheets.

  “What’s wrong?” Colt’s voice held the gruff edge of half-sleep.

  She stilled her fidgeting. “I’ve never slept naked before.”

  “Once you fall asleep, you won’t know you’re naked.”

  “What if there’s a fire or a natural d
isaster? The time it takes for me to put on clothes might be the minute that saves my life.”

  She felt the covers shift and pictured him rolling to face her. “It’s also the minute I’d lose undressing you again when I want to fuck you in the middle of the night.”

  “Is that a possibility?” She hoped she didn’t sound too excited.

  She felt the bed shift again and caught a glimpse of him in her periphery. He was scooting closer.

  “It’s a very good possibility.” His hand landed on the bare skin of her stomach before sliding across it to her waist. His biceps flexed as he tugged, pulling her until her back lay flush with his front.

  Okay, being naked and spooning wasn’t bad.

  “Now go to sleep while you can. You’re gonna need it.”

  Well, how in the heck was she supposed to sleep after a statement like that? But she soon found out it wasn’t really that hard because the last thing she remembered before lights-out was Colt tucking her a little closer and his lips landing on the top of her head.

  Colt didn’t lie. Sometime in the dead of night, she woke up with Colt’s head between her legs.

  Oh, my.

  She groaned.

  “You’re awake?”

  She cleared the sleep from her throat. “Yeah.”

  “Good.”

  She heard the tear of a condom wrapper and then a few seconds after that, he was filling her. She wrapped him up—arms around his neck and legs around his waist—and held on for the ride.

  It wasn’t smooth. It was rough and bumpy with a pitstop halfway through to flip her onto her stomach. She shoved her face into her pillow, biting it as he yanked her hips up and entered her from behind.

  Being an athlete had its advantages. The man was strong and had stamina.

  Too soon, she felt the tell-tale tingle start to build. The sound of their slapping skin filled her ears as well as the roaring of her blood. She locked her arms and braced her hands against the bed, digging her fingers into the sheets, giving as good as she got, grinding herself on his cock as he powered into her. Her breaths grew harsh and then a moan traveled up her chest as her orgasm hit, sending a wave of convulsions strong enough to have her muscles give out, leaving her a limp heap on the bed. He collapsed with a groan, falling with most of his weight at her side but half his body still covering her.