by Ryan Michele
I shut my eyes, no longer able to keep them open, his touches both calming and arousing.
Lost in his touch, I yelped when he picked me up bridal-style like I weighed nothing and strode over to the couch. He sat down then placed me on the seat next to him, my legs on his lap.
“What are you doing?”
He reached for my feet without answering and tore one of my tennis shoes off. I squirmed away.
My feet were the one thing on my body that I hated to show off to anyone. Many women here in Tennessee loved the comfort of flip-flops. Me, not so much. With as many years as I’d put in on them, they were rough, callused, and gross.
I periodically gave myself a pedicure because there was no way in hell I was spending money on something like that when I could do it just as easily. However, it had been a couple of weeks since I’d done my last one, and I knew those puppies wouldn’t be pretty.
“Stop,” he commanded, bringing one of his arms across my hips to hold me down. He was strong; I had to give him that much. “Talk. Why can’t I take your shoes off?”
“Why do you want to?” I responded.
“I know you’re on ’em all the damn time. I wanna rub them.”
Oh, hell no.
“No, Stiff. I’m fine. Please just leave my shoes on.” Thank God I still had a sock on.
“Do your feet hurt?” he asked, and I almost lied. Then his face gave me that ‘don’t you dare’ look, and I didn’t know him well enough to know what he’d do.
“They always hurt.”
“Then I’m rubbin’ them.”
I picked up my knees and tried to get away again. “Please, Stiff, really I’m fine.” I looked around the room, the television catching my eye. “Why do you need such a big TV?”
“Because I want it, Chels. And nice deflection. I’m rubbin’ them. End of story. Either I do it with you lyin’ there, relaxed, or I tie your ass up so you can’t move, but either way, I’m takin’ care of you.”
While my belly warmed at the thought of someone even wanting to take care of me, I couldn’t let him see my callused feet. He would throw me out and never look back. Plus, I was here to check out the place for Jenn and myself. I’d left her at the clubhouse, and Xander was supposed to bring her here in a while.
Then it hit me. Wasn’t it just a short time ago that I wanted him to go away? Yeah, I did, because this couldn’t happen. Okay, fine. Let him rub my nasty feet. Then maybe he’d let Jenn and I go to my grams’ house, instead.
“Fine.” I smirked and stopped fighting to his astonishment.
He shook his head then pulled off a sock without batting an eye. He then pulled the other shoe and sock off, tossing them to the floor, and again, nothing. He pulled one foot into his hands and began rubbing. I knew he felt the hardness in spots; he had to. Nevertheless, he said nothing, just stared at the television like this was a normal thing.
“Do you bring lots of women to your place to rub their feet?”
Smack my damn head. Why the hell would I ask a question like that? I didn’t want or need the answer to it, so why? Why, why, why! I was seriously a glutton for punishment.
“Babe, the only chick who’s been in here is Gabby, my brother’s girl. Oh, and Trixie. That’s it until you. Jenn will be the next.”
I stilled. “You’ve never had women in here?”
“Nope.”
Anger welled up. I’d had enough men in my life screw me over. I was not in the market for another.
“Don’t lie to me,” I practically growled out, and his head snapped toward me.
His hands kept moving, yet one gripped a little more tightly in warning. I might have been hot, but I caught it.
“Ain’t got no reason to lie to you, woman.”
“Man,” I barked back, “don’t feed me a line of shit. At least be honest with me.”
“You want honesty? Fine.” He grabbed both my ankles and pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my body and immobilizing me. “Never had a reason to have a woman here. Clubhouse, all the fuckin’ time. Here, no. This is my home. You don’t shit where you live.”
“Well, technically, I’m sure you shit in the toilet.” My damn mouth got the best of me, and as soon as the words left my lips, I clamped them shut. Damn, damn, damn.
He chuckled. “Alright, smartass, so I shit in the toilet. What I don’t do is bring women back here.”
“Then why am I here?”
He snaked his hand up my back. “Still tryin’ to figure that out.” His eyes dropped to my lips as they parted. “Now I’m takin’ those fuckin’ lips.”
And he did. God, did he. The foot rub was a distant memory as his mouth took mine, and I didn’t fight it. I couldn’t. The pull between us was too great, and every time his lips touched me, my brain went to Jamaica, or maybe Florida. Hell, it went somewhere other than the present place, and I rather liked it there.
DAMN WOMAN TASTED like honey; bona fide, right out of the beehive, honey. So damn sweet each taste had me craving more, needing more, wanting more. Her mouth was a fucking drug I could get high on for days alone.
She nipped at my bottom lip, earning a growl from deep within my throat. That one sound sparked something in her, something hungry.
Hot and sexy as hell, she gripped the sides of my head and moved to straddle my hips, her heat blazing against my hard cock. And I just held her tight to my body, but she didn’t need any help. Her tits smashed against my chest, her hard nipples poking me.
With Chelsea, I had to fight for control. She didn’t placate me and follow my lead. No, she demanded that I earn that submission from her. And fuck, I loved that.
If she thought she was going to win, though, she was sadly mistaken.
Gripping her wrists, I pulled them behind her back, clutching them with one hand. She pulled away on a sharp intake of breath. I took a few, too. Then a small smirk appeared on the left side of her lips mischievously, and I knew I was in over my head.
The way her fucking hips worked in a steady rhythm over my erection was unnerving, and unnerved was something I didn’t do.
I released her arms, lifted her, and flipped her back to my couch, crowding in on top of her.
“Think you’re running the show here, Chels?”
She gripped my cut and T-shirt hard. “I’d let you run it if you’d get your ass in gear.”
Chelsea lifted up and suctioned her lips to mine. I fell on top of her, trying not to crush her yet knowing I was, anyway. She was still moving, so she was getting air.
I rose, straddling her body now. She panted and brought her hands up to reach for me, but something was off. Before, she couldn’t wait to get away from me, thought of every way to leave the clubhouse. Now, all the sudden, she was on fire.
I gripped her hands and held them to her stomach. “Gotta say, lovin’ this fire.” I paused for a moment. “Fire … That’s what I’m callin’ you from now on.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what you are, baby. Hot as hell—fire.”
She planted a kiss on my cheek. “Whatever.”
Something was definitely off.
“But what’s goin’ on?”
Chelsea blinked rapidly, and an adorable stain of red came to her cheeks, but her words were fierce. “I’m feeling the need to let loose a little.”
“Why’s that?” Not that I wouldn’t fuck her, but there were so many depths to this woman, and this was another one that I felt the urge to get to the bottom of.
She let out a gust of air. “If you don’t wanna do this, I’ll go.”
“The fuck you’re goin’ anywhere.”
Her eyes shot to mine.
“Wanna know how it changed.”
“You feel this, don’t you?” she asked quietly. The “this” being the sparks between us, the pressure that was due to intensity forming diamonds in the rough. The volcano that was going to erupt once I slipped my dick into her wet heat.
My cock jumped at the idea.
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I leaned down close, our noses only an inch apart. “Yeah, Fire. I feel it. Don’t know what the fuck it is. Never felt it before. But I do now. I get you. Just gotta see where this leads us.”
“Yeah,” she whispered then went for my lips again.
As I snaked my hand up her shirt, I felt the softness of her flesh jump with each brush of my fingertips. I met her bra-covered mound and squeezed. It was a handful with none of that artificial shit that felt like balloons.
I pulled the cusp of her bra down, finding her nipple and brushing my fingertips against it.
She broke away and moaned, arching her back into my touch. Her hands met my bald head, rubbing, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
I pulled her arm, making her torso come with it. Wasting no time, I yanked the shirt off and removed her bra then let her fall back to the couch, her tits doing a sexy as hell jiggle.
I squeezed her breasts hard and rough, so much so the small mound that overflowed my hand began to turn a beautiful pink.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, grabbing my wrists as her body arched into my touch.
The rosy tip called to me, and my mouth found its purchase. I sucked, nibbled, and swiped my tongue all over while kneading her breasts.
Her grip on my wrist tightened, and I went to the other peak then sucked it in deep.
Her hips bucked, but mine held them down, not giving them any wiggle room. Her eyes were burning with the fire she would be referred to from now on. She was fire when she was pissed, happy, and fucking horny. Lucky for the both of us, I liked each one of them.
She tried to push my hands off her breasts and down her body, but I held fast, giving her a warning squeeze that was even rougher than I’d already given her.
“Stiff, please,” she moaned.
That fucking moan, along with my name being in it, broke me. I rose from the couch, unbuttoned and pulled off her jeans and underwear, fell to my knees, and then devoured that pretty, bare pink pussy of hers.
“Oh!” she yelped as I turned and twisted her until her pussy was right against my mouth, being devoured by me. The fucking woman tasted like a woman should: hot, ripe, and wet. I sucked down every drop she gave me.
She reached for my head. No doubt, if I had hair, it would have been pulled pretty fucking hard.
“I’m gonna come!” she screamed as I took the little hard bud and sucked with everything I had until she burst into the flames of fire she was.
Chelsea’s body shook, her eyes shut, head thrown back, fingernails in my scalp. Her body completely lifted from the couch as she screamed, moaned, then screamed again as the shocks hit her. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, but I began to slowly bring her down by licking her inner lips, still keeping her aroused yet gradually letting her fall.
I watched as she slowly came back to herself, her eyes finally fluttering open, only to stare down at me. I couldn’t help smiling.
I started to insert two fingers. Then, surprised by how damn tight she was, I only added one.
“Been a while,” she panted out breathlessly, obviously reading my mind.
“How long, Fire?”
“Years.” She let her head roll back to the couch and closed her eyes as her pussy sucked my finger in greedily. She was going to be fucking magic around my cock, but I didn’t want to hurt her.
“Best fuckin’ news I’ve heard in a while.” Knowing I was the only man who’d been inside this pussy for years turned me on to a point I’d never experienced before. It made me want inside her right fucking now.
Willpower of the gods allowed me to attach my lips to her clit again, thrust, and finally get two fingers inside. Fuck me, she was tight. I had fucking girth, so I’d need to go slow or at least fucking try to.
Chelsea’s pants echoed with the laps of my tongue and fingers. She arched, and I felt another climax coming, so I backed off, earning a very disgruntled groan of protest.
Sliding my fingers out, I saw they were drenched. Her eyes came to mine, and I licked every single one of those fuckers.
And there it was … that fire blazing in her eyes. Her desire and want were calling to me to come and take my fill.
I rose, and with record speed, tossed my leather and shirt on the chair. Then I unbuckled my belt and pants, letting them fall to the floor. I didn’t bother with underwear today, so my rock hard cock stood at attention.
Chelsea’s eyes widened, and I smiled.
HOLY SHIT.
Feet to the floor, I leaned in. I was pretty sure if I tried to put my hand around his cock, I wouldn’t be able to touch my fingers.
“Fire, if you’re gonna get that close, ya may as well make good use of your mouth.”
My body thrummed from his words. It might have been a while since I’d had any sexual relationships, but I knew what to do in the bedroom. Never once had any complaints.
One thing I was a sucker for was sucking on cock. It wasn’t like I was at bars, trolling for someone to suck off. I just kept the men I was with happy.
Looking up at him through my lashes, I gripped his cock and took it all the way down my throat, not gagging a bit.
When his lips touched mine, I’d decided I was all in. I’d show him exactly what I was made of, which had already scared one man off.
“Fucking shit,” he groaned as his body went stiff. Maybe that was how he’d gotten his name.
I chuckled at the idea.
“Think that’s funny, do ya?” He threaded his fingers through my hair as I pulled back.
I would let him think he had this, but with my tongue and lips, I could change his mind.
He maneuvered me, bucking his hips, thinking he had me where he wanted. That was when I started in with my tongue.
Down the underside of his dick as I sucked around the bulbous head. With my hand, I reached down and cupped his balls, rolling them, then reached out my finger to rub the sensitive area between his sac and asshole.
“Fucking shit!” he called out, giving up a little pressure he had on my hair.
I continued giving him everything I had. I pulled him out and ran my lips roughly up and down his length. Then I sucked in just the tip until his knees wobbled.
The next time I took him in my mouth, his pubic hairs tickled my nose as I kept my gag reflex at bay. I could usually go about twenty seconds, which was pretty damn good in dick-sucking time.
He pulled out of me so abruptly I fell to the floor, catching myself with my hands.
“Fire,” he said in almost a warning, reaching for his jeans, pulling out a condom, then placing it over his shaft.
I was in awe watching it, because I’d never known those things stretched so much. Surely, he had to get extra wide or something. No regular condom would do the trick.
I snapped myself back to reality when I was lifted in the air, my arms going around Stiff’s neck and legs going around his hips.
“Fuckin’ gonna kill me after that shit you just pulled, but I gotta go slow so I don’t hurt you.”
He carried me through the living room, kitchen, down a hall, and into another room. When my back hit a bed, I realized we were in his bedroom.
Stiff slid between my thighs as I lifted my knees, inviting him in. He slid his arms under my shoulders, his hands cupping the back of my neck. Then I felt his heat at my entrance.
Painstakingly slow, he eased into me, and my body accommodated his girth rather quickly. With each small back and forth thrust, he went deeper inside. Also, with each movement, he awakened nerves inside me that lit up like a burning blaze. None of the men I’d had before compared to Stiff’s size, and the stretch and burn only added to my pleasure.
Holding his solid arms, I tried not to dig my fingers into his skin, but it was damn hard. I felt it then—his hips and mine aligning. He was in to the hilt, and he just sat there for a moment, a look of pain etched across his face.
“Gotta move,” was all the warning I got before he began.
I’d had sex. I’d made love. I’d
fucked. But never in my life had any of that compared to this right here. Put all three of those into a blender, set that sucker on high, and put it in a shot glass—that was what this was.
I felt him everywhere. Not just inside my body, but along my skin, burning me, searing me, ruining me for any other man.
Rocking my hips, I got in sync with him, and the more I did, the harder he pumped in and out. Sweat dripped off his face down to my body, and I wanted to lick every damn drop off of him.
His eyes came to mine, and I was lost. As the swirling depths sucked me in, I erupted, screaming so damn loudly I was sure to be embarrassed his brothers had heard me at some point, just not at this one.
He got up on his knees, and his thrusts grew more out of sync as he gripped my hips.
He tossed his head back. “Fire,” he breathed out.
I’d never seen a man come like that and never thought my name sounded as sexy before.
Stiff spilled inside of me as I tried to calm my breathing, a slight sheen of sweat covering me now, as well.
For long moments, he stayed planted, like leaving the comfort of our connection would be too difficult.
Finally, he pulled out, and we both groaned. Stiff fell to the side of me and pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. I snuggled in, enjoying someone taking care of me and my needs for once.
One time of him inside of me—one—and I could feel the patter of my heart change, but I needed to remember to protect it. I knew it would be an uphill battle, because lying there with Stiff’s arms around me, I felt that muscle inside me tighten.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.
I popped my head up from Stiff’s chest, my breathing back to normal and my body feeling sated in a way that should be illegal.
“Fuck,” Stiff growled, rolling from the bed and grabbing his jeans. “Better get dressed. Your sister’s here.”
He tugged them on as I scrambled from the bed to the living room, only to hear the thump on the door again.
“Shit!” I muttered, grabbing my clothes then putting them on in record time. I ran my hands through my hair to get some of the tangles out when one caught between my fingers, and I had to pull hard to get it out.