by Dani McLean
“Hmm?” I smirked as I raised up, waiting.
She growled. Fucking growled. One of her hands found its way into my hair, gripping the strands, and I couldn’t have gotten harder if I tried. She was definitely going to kill me.
And it would be a sweet, sweet death.
“I want you to …”
Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath. I reached up and ran a thumb over her hand, offering some support.
“I want your mouth on me. I want you to make me come.”
Nothing had ever sounded sweeter or had me harder. I hooked a finger under the band of the lace and pulled.
Once removed, I slowly slid my hands from her ankles to her waist, enjoying the way she writhed under my touch as I settled back between her thighs.
“You’re so fucking sexy.” I trailed my fingers along her lips, humming in approval of how wet she was already.
She moaned above me, and I couldn’t wait any longer to taste her. My grip firm against her thighs, I slowly lapped at her, sucking and keeping pace as she rocked her hips towards me, seeking out more.
Her fingers brushed through my hair tenderly, in stark contrast to her other hand, which was braced on the top of her thigh, nails scraping over her skin. I grasped her hand in mine, linking our fingers together on the sheets, my other palm holding her hips down as she bucked against my lips.
8
Jackson
After she came, I crawled back up the bed to lie beside her, still hard but not in any great hurry to deal with it. I liked these moments between, watching as their breathing came back to normal, the glazed-over look in their eyes, the flush of their skin.
It was always interesting to see what they did next. Some women jumped to reciprocate, others went straight for sex, and one even tried a half-hearted hand job. I was curious to see what Audrey did.
Her head turned toward me on the pillow, eyes blown wide and lips plump and dark from where she bit them to keep from screaming. She was insanely alluring like this. I watched as her eyes traveled down my body to where I was hard and waiting, and a wicked grin spread across her face.
My cock jerked at the sight of it.
Despite our previous activities, she hesitated before touching me, her fingers skittering across my chest before landing on my right nipple. She began to tease it, first watching how my body reacted before looking up for confirmation that I was interested.
“Feels good,” I reassured her. “You can use your tongue if you want.”
She does, tentative touches like she hasn’t done this before, or maybe in a long time. It made me wonder how long it had been since she’d been with somebody.
I guided her head up so I could look her in the eyes. “You feel amazing.”
She lit up and surged forward to kiss me again, all the previous caution gone.
As the kiss deepened, she crawled fully onto me, a leg sliding over my thigh and brushing against my leaking cock. I felt her wetness against my skin, and it was fucking glorious. My head fell back against the pillow as I groaned.
She started sucking little open mouth kisses on the underside of my jaw, and I clutched at her hips, maneuvering her until she was on top of me. This time she pulled back, blinking at me while her breath escaped in quick soft puffs against my skin.
She was holding back or nervous, which wasn’t good. I took charge, rolling us over, so I was on top, her legs falling open around my hips. I rested on my elbows to keep most of my weight off of her.
As quickly as I could, I grabbed the condom out of my pants and put it on before I returned to the bed. Her hands pulled at me greedily. It wasn’t an effort to comply.
My head fell forward in a mix of pleasure and disbelief at how wet she was. It was an easy slide into her, and it took considerable effort to slow down. I wanted to last.
“Ok?” I asked because I needed to know.
Her urgent nod was accompanied by a drawn-out moan, encouraging me. To ensure I’d gotten the message, she wrapped her legs around me, digging her heels in to urge me forward. This woman was glorious.
Taking the hint, I pushed in all the way, reveling in the feel of her around me. There was hardly anywhere we weren’t touching, yet I wanted more.
As I moved inside of her, her eyes fluttered closed. She bared her neck as she arched into me, pulling me closer. I buried my nose into the juncture between neck and shoulder, nipping at the heated skin.
She was gripping me. From her arms to her thighs to her sweet center, I was trapped, and it was fucking incredible.
Sweat started to collect between us, the sounds of our bodies moving against each other accompanying the rough chorus of our panting.
I was moving faster now. Pleasure building in my gut. Pulsing within me.
She was unwinding beneath me, head tossed back, taking and giving in equal measure.
My thoughts were frantic. They slipped past my tongue as quickly as they occurred to me. “Feel so good. So sexy. You don’t even know, do you?”
Her breath was coming in gasps. In. Out. Quick. Shallow. She trembled beneath me. Powerful. Precious.
She tapped at my shoulder. Tried to speak through her whimpers.
I slowed, allowing her to catch her breath. Tried to catch my own.
“Can we?” Her head tipped back against the pillow. Licked her lips. “Can we take a break?”
“Of course.” There was a bead of sweat collected at her collarbone, and I gently kissed it away, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin before I pushed up and fell beside her on the bed. There was a lingering shakiness in my thighs. Seemed I could use a break myself.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but her gratitude was undeniable. “Thank you.”
Turning onto my side, I let my eyes take in her naked body. Her chest quickly rose as she took in deep breaths, and her skin was flushed from the waist up. Lips red and swollen. Barely parted. Tongue reaching out to wet them. She was stunning.
The room was hot, sweat coating my temple, abs, thighs. “Would you like a glass of water?”
She nodded slow, half dazed. I stole one more kiss and then made my way into the kitchen. The first glass I quickly downed myself before refilling the glass and heading back into her bedroom.
One arm was thrown above her head, wiping the sweat from her brow, and one leg was bent, resting on the bed. She looked blissed out, and I swelled with pride, knowing I was the cause.
“Here.” I slid into the bed, back against the wall, and she sat up next to me to take the glass, which she drank quickly, moaning her appreciation. I couldn’t help but smile.
Even if we didn’t do anything else, this might be one of the more enjoyable evenings I’d spent with a woman.
She finished drinking and placed the glass on the nightstand, taking a silent moment to breathe. “I can’t believe you’re in my bed right now,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.
“I think I’m insulted.” I chuckle.
“No, that wasn’t …” She ducked her head, shy. “I don’t normally get this lucky.”
I discarded the joke that immediately came to mind and decided to be sincere. “I think I’m the lucky one.”
“Ok.” She laughed, blushing deeper. “You’ve already gotten me naked; you don’t need to charm me.”
“I’m just being honest, but I like that you think I’m charming.”
She laughed and made herself more comfortable beside me, sliding down until her head hit the pillow. I watched as she trailed a hand along my thigh, mirroring the movement from the bar earlier tonight, with blatant appreciation in her gaze.
I flexed my thigh as her hand passed and chuckled as she momentarily jolted before firmly gripping the muscle and testing the feel of it. She moaned at the resistance, and God help me; the sound went straight to my cock.
Aware that she might still need to catch her breath, I slid down, laying on my side beside her, and pulled her in for a kiss. She deepened it immediately, her tongue exploring my
mouth, and I gently pulled her in towards me. Our legs tangled, my thigh slipping between her legs, and she gasped as it brushed against her.
I took my time, just like this, trading kisses and touching her until she was underneath me again, thighs spread, and begging me, “Please.”
It took all of my control not to grab her and fuck her until she was screaming my name.
Instead, I forced myself to slow down, even though I felt my orgasm building as I entered her again, her pussy spasming around me so tightly that I cursed into her shoulder.
As if knowing I needed the distraction, she pulled my head up and kissed me until I could barely remember my name and tilted her hips to get me to move.
So I did, encouraged by her enthusiasm. I gripped her waist, her hips, her ass. She met every thrust, welcoming me deeper, harder. And when she snuck a hand between us to circle her clit, I was undone; the sounds of her pleasure pushing me over into my release.
I couldn’t tell how much time had passed when I finally slid out of her bed, picking up my clothes and dressing in the near dark of the room. Audrey was sleeping, curled on her side, disheveled yet peaceful.
This certainly wasn’t how I was expecting my night to go when I entered the bar, curious after Wes’ comments earlier in the week.
Not that I was complaining.
To be honest, I was a little intoxicated by her.
I wasn’t going to lie. I’d built up a healthy confidence in my skills. Many women had been satisfied, but there was something thrilling tonight about pleasing Audrey. Exploring her, discovering what she liked, coaxing reactions out of her when she seemed to be holding back, then being rewarded by all those little gasps and moans when I hit the right spot.
It was a huge boost to my ego. But more than that.
It had been fun.
And she was … Unexpected. Mostly quiet. Tentative. Waiting to be lead, or maybe just expecting to be. Then those moments where she surprised me. Fire in her eyes and an underlying strength in her body. Like a lioness in wait.
Suddenly, I wished I had more time. I wanted to take hours to map out her body, wrapped up together with nowhere else to be.
But that wasn’t what this was.
Once dressed, I paused, torn by indecision. I’d done this a hundred times but now felt guilty at the idea of leaving without saying goodbye.
My wallet, phone, and keys were tucked in my pockets. There was no reason I was still here. All I had to do was leave.
I winced as I looked at the time. I had to be on set in five hours. Today was going to be exhausting, yet I couldn’t bring myself to be mad about it. In fact, I was probably more annoyed at the idea of leaving than the inevitable fatigue that would set in.
With a sigh and burying the nagging thought that I’d likely regret it, I tiptoed out of the apartment.
9
Audrey
Jackson was gone when I woke up, and if it hadn’t been for the slight ache in my body and the sight of my clothes strewn all over the floor of my bedroom, I would’ve wondered if I hadn’t just had some incredible fever dream. I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow, breathing in deep, the smile on my face widening. I couldn’t believe I’d had a one-night stand; wait, no, scratch that, that wasn’t the part I was in awe of; I couldn’t believe I had just had the most mind-bending sex of my life with a complete stranger. Who was I?
I laughed, feeling delirious. He’d … And I’d … Wow.
Remembering what had happened only served to make me smile more. Ok, now I could see what Tiff was talking about. That was incredible. Indescribable. Was it like this every time? Why hadn’t I been doing this all along? Or maybe the better question was, why had I stayed miserable with Brad for so long and missed out on this?
A small voice reminded me that it probably had more to do with Jackson himself; that sex with everyone was unlikely to be this good; that Jackson had been incredible in a way beyond just sex. He’d been patient, and he hadn’t grumbled or made me feel bad when I’d needed a break. He’d made me feel like I was beautiful, treasured. It made me want to believe it.
It made me want more.
I jumped into the shower, a little regretful that I had to wash away the memories of last night but not wanting to walk into work smelling of sex. Smelling of him. I buried my nose in my shoulder, hoping for some lingering memory, but all I could smell now was my lavender body wash. Oh well, I still had the memories. And boy, was I going to be replaying them as often as possible. I could barely wait to tell Tiff about it. I resolved to text her to confirm her schedule so I could head over after work if she were free.
Dressing, I spotted my discarded lingerie on the floor and remembered his reaction to the lace. I opened my underwear drawer to assess the situation.
When was the last time I bought something that wasn't plain and practical?
As I took in the collection of comfortable cotton pieces, I realized I'd forgotten how good it was to wear something for myself. To see myself as sexy.
I'd have to go shopping.
Later that morning, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as I entered the office. As usual, I beat the rest of our small team by thirty minutes. And, as usual, David was already there.
It was my first favorite thing about working here: having a boss as passionate as David. The second was the space itself. There were only a dozen of us in total, so the office wasn’t large by anyone’s standards, but we made the most of it. David had sourced local artists for photographs and artwork of the city, a celebration of all things Chicago, which built on his, or I should say our, mission statement of supporting local vendors.
I rapped my knuckles on his open door, smiling at the picture he made; chin in hand, brow furrowed in concentration, the bright colors of his Hawaiian shirt utterly ruining any sort of seriousness that he might otherwise have hoped for.
David looked up from his laptop to greet me. “Morning, kiddo.”
Even my dad never called me that. But I’d never minded with David. In the last two years of working for him, I’d come to respect him greatly. He’d been the only part of working at Empire Distributions that hadn’t made my soul want to shrivel up, and when he’d asked me to join him here at Bespoke Beverages, I’d said yes without hesitation.
“Morning, David.” I made myself comfortable in one of the two armchairs facing his desk, noting how his beard was almost completely silver now, though still trimmed and groomed to perfection.
He shut his laptop and clasped his hands over it. “Ready for today?”
I nodded. “Absolutely. I just wanted to come in and run through the notes again before I head out.”
“Good. Before you go, I wanted to let you know I’m in the process of getting us some help.” He looked serious. Too serious.
“That’s great. I know how busy you’ve been.”
“How busy we’ve all been,” he said, catching me with a shrewd look over the top of his glasses, looking even more like a concerned dad. “You know how much I’ve appreciated your efforts over the last six months, but you don’t—”
“Need to work so hard. I remember.” He was a broken record at this point.
“Which is why I’m getting us some help. It won’t be much, but we’re in a good enough position to lighten the load a bit.”
“David, I think that’s great. The team has been working hard, and I know they’ll like having another set of hands around. But don’t worry about me. I can handle it.” I could, and I would.
Hoping to derail any further comment from him, I stood and asked, “Can I get you a coffee from next door? My treat.”
“Thanks.” He scratched his beard. “My usual.”
I winced. His usual was laden with cream and syrups. “I still don’t know how Nicky lets you drink that stuff. Isn’t it sacrilegious?” I couldn’t understand how someone married to an Italian drank coffee like that.
“What my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Now get.” He waved me out the d
oor. “And don’t forget to get a receipt,” he called out as I left, laughing.
The drive out to Westchester always made me happy.
The warehouse stood on the corner block like an old guard dog, imposing in size but calm and comforting in its protection. The building was a stalwart of the area, part of the rich history from the builders who had made this town what it was.
Jeff MacMillan was no different.
The MacMillan Distillery was our biggest client and the first one we’d landed after leaving Empire. A small-scale distillery specializing in rum, it was exactly the kind of place David and I wanted to focus on at Bespoke Beverages—local, with a focus on flavor and creativity.
Jeff and Julie MacMillan were an energetic couple in their late fifties. Jeff had been a carpenter in his previous life but a lover of liquor for longer. After Julie suffered a health scare ten years prior, he’d decided to stop waiting and finally do something he loved.
A sentiment I could get behind.
I smiled as I stepped into the open warehouse, the air filled with the smell of oak and yeast.
“Audrey! You’re here!” Julie’s voice called out across the floor as she moved towards me, catching me in a tight hug.
I really loved my job.
“Julie, how are you?”
“Wonderful. Thank you again for coming all the way out here to see us.” She said as if a twenty-minute car ride from the city was a burden.
“Of course, you know I wouldn’t make you and Jeff trek into the city. And I like the drive.” Jeff had made it abundantly clear he hated the city, which meant meetings were onsite instead of the office.
“How you put up with all that I’ll never know, but we do appreciate it. Now come, can I get you a drink?” She herded me into the small office tucked in the back, Jeff nowhere to be seen.
“Yes, thank you. Just some water.”
“Alright. I’ll go find Jeff while I’m at it.” She flashed me another warm smile, then journeyed back to the warehouse, calling out to Jeff to “get your ass in the office.”