by Layne Harper
Spreading her muscular thighs, that beautiful pink pussy which has starred in both night and daytime fantasies, is ready and waiting for me. I reflect on how far we’ve come in such a short time and how grateful I am that I’m getting a second chance to love her.
“Why are you looking at me all weird?” she asks with a scowl.
“I’m not, sweetheart.” I run my hand up and down the inside of her leg. “Just taking a second to appreciate how fucking lucky I am.”
Her features relax as I move between her thighs. Using my tongue, I lap up every bit of sweetness my girl will give me making my way to the place I crave the most. Spreading her lips, I suck and teethe her clit.
Moans and cries of pleasure mix with the sounds my mouth makes as I devour her. It’s a beautiful sonnet that we’re creating together.
Her hips buck up from the mattress as she frantically taps my head. “I want you.” Her voice is breathless and needy.
I look into MK’s eyes. “I’m all yours.”
Kicking off my underwear, I position my cock at her entrance. Taking one last look at her lean, tanned naked body, I prepare myself for just how good it’s going to be when I finally have made her mine once again.
“You need a condom,” she groans.
I shake my head. “Why?”
“I saw the pics of the model. There’s some in my bedside drawer.”
Crawling off her, I stand next to the mattress. “Why do you have condoms in your bedside drawer?”
“Does it matter? Just get one.” She sounds as frustrated and frantic as I feel.
Reluctantly, I open the drawer and find the box. I tear open the package and roll the little fucker down my dick. It’s as unhappy as I am. “This is bullshit.”
“Do you want to argue about it or do you want some of this?” She drags her finger through her short pubic hair and shows me the moisture.
Who am I to argue? Crawling back on the bed, I drive into her with one solid push. Her body opens itself up to accommodate me. She whispers, “Aaron, you feel so good.”
“You too, baby. You too,” I breathe as I keep still, feeling her tightness envelop me. Her warmth makes me feel safe, and that I’ll always have a place to call home. My head is clear. There’s no music playing. I’m experiencing instead of being numbed to the world.
Slowly, I pull back and then slide back in. Over and over and over again. I’m lost in her. I quit worrying about making sure that I’m doing a good job and pleasuring her. Instead, I revel in our bodies becoming one.
“This is what I missed the most,” she says through tear-filled eyes. “I wanted this connection.”
I pull back and ease in again.
“This is making love, and it’s so fucking sweet.” The only good thing about the condom is that it keeps me from coming in like two seconds.
She grips my forearms, and I love that she’ll probably leave a bruise her hold is so tight.
We’re a solid perfect mass of sweaty bodies.
I grab her around her back and pull her on top of me as I lean back on my hands. Her arms wrap around my neck as she bounces on my dick. Her taut nipples rub against the hair on my chest. MK’s head drops back and a delicious sound exits her throat.
My mouth finds hers, as her teeth imbed in my lips. She rides my cock finding her bliss. I follow her a few seconds later, and we both tumble to the sheets. I pull her against me and hold on with everything I’ve got. I never want this moment to end.
Chapter Twenty-Six
MK
September
Music Times @MusicTimesMagazine
Sources close to LV casino mogul Robert Haines are reporting that he’s in negotiations with @RealJohnnyKnite
Music Times @MusicTimesMagazine
@RealJohnnyKnite would have residency at @CelestialPalaceCasino.
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@RealJohnnyKnite OMG! @CelestialPalaceCasino do it. Sign him.
He rolls the condom off, ties the end, and drops it on the ground with a plop. I’m totally grossed out, but I fight the overwhelming urge to ask him to toss it in the kitchen garbage. Instead, I suppress the crazy and snuggle against his tattooed arm trying to be present in the moment.
I might be certifiably insane, but God it feels great to be wanted by this man. His body feels as if it was made for mine. I love the silence and ease between us.
His hand taps a rhythm on my bicep. It’s a slow lazy beat.
My eyes grow heavy and for a bit I think I might doze off.
“So what do I have to do to ditch the rubbers?” he asks, as my eyes fly open.
Stretching, I yawn as I sit up. “You have to get tested for everything under the sun, and then I’ll consider it.” My voice is content like we should be chatting about running through a sunny meadow filled with daffodils instead of venereal disease.
“You in Bliss?” He rubs my bent knee.
“Yup. Don’t ruin my moment by talking about VD.” I lay back down snuggling deeper into his side and kiss his pec.
Aaron sighs and the beat he taps is more up-tempo yet the silence that hangs between us feels heavier. “Why do you have condoms?”
I sit back up in bed, completely naked with my legs tucked under me. “Fine. Okay. Let’s have this very awkward conversation then.”
He leans against the headboard and drags his hand through his messy hair. “Sorry. I just can’t clear my mind until I replace the thought of a train of guys moving through here with the truth.”
Pulling the comforter over my hips, I cross my arms over my breasts. “I haven’t slept with anyone since you. I’m not a whore, and I take issue with you imagining that I am. I mean a train of guys? That’s just crude, Aaron.”
He grabs for me, but I resist. His forehead forms a V, but he doesn’t push it. “I don’t think you’re a whore. I just get crazy at the thought of anyone else touching you.” He audibly swallows. “The condoms were a surprise.”
“They shouldn’t be. I’m a thirty-one-year-old, single female. It would be odd if I wasn’t having sex.” Kicking the blanket off, I stand, walking towards the bathroom. “And if you must know they were a bachelorette party gift from Bella as a joke.” I stop at the doorway. “Aaron, why do you do this? Why must you ruin a lovely moment with such harsh words?”
His head hangs. “I don’t know, MK. I’m a man with my heart on my sleeve. I’m just worried that you’re going to realize that I’m not good enough for you, and you’re going to leave me.” We make eye contact, and I try to give him a reassuring smile. He continues, “I need to know that I’m yours for the rest of our lives. That it’s just you and me. That you accept that I’m not or ever will be a lawyer, doctor, or Indian Chief. I’ll never wear shorts with tiny alligators on them or collared golf shirts.”
He stands and walks to me. “I say fuck a lot and I probably drink too much on occasion. I’m staying away from drugs, but well, that’s a day by day process, and I may screw up. You can’t kick me out of your life just because I disappoint you. You have to love the perfectly imperfect man that is me.”
I caress his cheek as he leans into my touch. “I love the perfectly imperfect man that you are. Are you who I always pictured I’d fall for? Nope. I’ve never been the girl lusting over music men, but we didn’t choose each other.” Placing a kiss on his heart, “Our souls found their other half.”
“God, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist. Nuzzling into my hair, he takes a deep breath. “I fucking love that you smell like sex and me.”
Leaning back, I laugh. “That means I need a shower.” I drop my arms, stepping into my bathroom. My bare behind feels the sting of his palm.
“I like my scent all over you,” he says peering around the door.
I blow him a kiss, and he turns around, giving me the bit of privacy that I like.
I splash cold water on my face and look in the mirror at a girl who is completely smitten with the boy in the other room. But I have
no idea why. He’s crass, unrefined, a bit insane, and sexy as hell. The only thing I reason is that it’s like I told him, we didn’t choose each other. Sometimes you find your other half in the person you least expect to fall for.
“Viva and I didn’t have sex,” Aaron says from the other room.
I watch my serene expression morph into mouth-hanging-open shock in a millisecond. Sticking my head around the doorjamb, I roll my eyes. “You think I was born yesterday? The rock star always has sex with the Victoria Secret’s Angel.”
He smirks and shrugs. “This rock star didn’t. We were never in the same place long enough. We weren’t really together like staying with each other. She was busy, and so was I.”
As I walk back to the bed, his eyes hood and his mouth goes slack as he tracks me. I feel like I’ve had my body worshiped without him laying a finger. When I get close enough, he pulls me on top of his chest with his already hard penis trapped between our bodies.
He kisses my scar. “I never got on a plane between shows to see her. I didn’t hold onto my phone hoping for one little smart-mouthed text. Feel my dick against you?”
I nod.
“I didn’t get hard at just the sight of her. Only you, sweetheart. Only you make me this crazy.”
My thoughts exactly.
He smirks. “Congratulations. Welcome to the rest of your life.”
“I’ll feel properly congratulated once that rubber is over your dick.” I wiggle off him and hand him another condom.
His eyes squint. “You think I’m lying.”
Shaking my head, I reply, “No, I don’t.” I curl up next to him and play with the fine, blond hair that sprinkles his chest. “I will just feel better once you’ve been tested.”
He throws the condom, still in its wrapper, on the floor as he rolls on top of me. His chin rests on my chin. “I swear on Jude’s life that you’re the only person I’ve been with since rehab.”
My eyes shut. It’s not that I didn’t believe him when he said that he’s been celibate. It’s just a tad shocking considering his track record.
“Come on, MK. Tell me you believe me.” He kisses my lids.
My eyes meet his. “Fine. I believe you. You don’t have to use a condom.”
His knee spreads my thighs, as he slips inside without a problem. We spend the next however amount of time truly making love to each other. I don’t care that my legs need a shave or that I probably have morning breath. We tenderly kiss and our slow, lazy rhythm says that neither one of us want this to end. As we climax together, he throws his leg over my hip and whispers as if it’s a prayer, “This forever.”
***
“You sure you’d rather paint than go pick out living room furniture?” he asks looking so darn cute in a pair of faded denim jeans and a white shirt that reads Waylon, Willie, and the Boys. I could easily go for another round between the sheets.
“Yes.” That’s not entirely true. I’ve gotten over my need to find something vintage and fabulous to fill the blank space in my place and have concluded that I just need something. I’m tired of not having a place for guests or me to sit. But when have I had time? Since my initial meeting with Janet and Cindy, all I’ve done is work. I feel like a horse racing around the track. It’s hard to stop because something always needs my attention.
Plus, shopping takes money and patience. Both of which, I don’t possess.
Aaron leans against raw brick wall in my store, posed as if he’s a model at a photoshoot. I grab my phone and snap a picture while he looks out the window. He catches me, flashing a sweet smile as he closes the space between us—walking like a predatory cat.
“You think I’m fuckable,” he says as he slips my phone in my overall’s back pocket and places his arms around my waist as if we’re going to dance.
“I think you’re handsome.” My face heats.
His cocky smile and narrowed eyes are hot. “You’re wishing I’d take you again up against that wall.”
The burn between my legs says that I do indeed wish he would take me against the wall and do all sorts of other dirty things to my body. Instead, I reply, “That would be super fun, but right now, we have to turn these purple amoebas into paisleys. Then, we’re going to watch your new band. Maybe later . . . if you’re lucky.”
“Don’t force me to make you beg.” His cocked brow says maybe that’s exactly what I want to make him do. He continues, “Sweetheart, I’m a musician. I don’t have a drop of artistic skills in me. Want me to fly Cara down here? She could give you kickass paisleys while we focus on other things that I’m much better at.” His hips move suggestively.
“No. It has to get done today so that it can dry overnight and be ready for Monday.” I place my hand on his chest. “I’m sure you’ll be a great artist. I have faith in you.”
Grabbing the paint and pens, I walk over to the corner. I sit down next to one of the blobs. Aaron joins me at my side with his dark leather motorcycle boots inches from my calf.
“Okay.” I demonstrate with a thick black paint pen. “I want you to be creative. Trace the inside of the purple, leaving about half an inch between the edge and the black. Once you’re done with that, then fill in the middle. You can do flowers like I’m doing or just geometric shapes. Whatever. As long as it looks like paisleys.”
When I meet his eyes, he’s scowling and flexing his right hand. “What about if I ask Jude to come down?”
The rage bubbles to my mouth as I toss my arms in the air. I told him I had to paint this weekend, and he agreed. I didn’t spring this job on him. “Look, don’t help me,” I yell. Then in a more resolved tone I say, “I’ll see if Bella can give up another night. I mean really, Aaron. Just go. I’ll text you when I’m finished.”
Turning my back to him, I take out my phone and press with too much force on Bella’s name.
He places his hands on my shoulder and catches my eyes which are trying their damnedest to avoid his soft baby blues. “It just seems like a lot of work, and I was going to get someone to help who knows what they’re doing. I’m not trying to bail on you.”
Nodding, my chest relaxes at his explanation. “Great. Then let’s get started.”
He uses his phone to turn on his Pandora station. The reason I know this is because one of his older songs plays first. I’d recognize that deep voice anywhere.
I look up from drawing wavy lines. “How humble of you.”
He’s about three feet away working on his own paisley. “Thought this time might be used having an ACE appreciation class while we work.” His smile is sexy. “If you’re my girlfriend, you should actually know some of our music.”
After finishing, I butt-scoot to the next one. “I know some of your songs, Aaron. It’s not like I’m a music idiot.” Okay. I am, but I hate having this flaw pointed out to me.
“You were the one who called yourself a music idiot. Not me.” I can hear the smirk in his voice.
“Damn. I really need to think before I speak.” I laugh at myself.
As his songs play, he tells me about them. I get a history lesson of ACE and, I must say, I appreciate his music so much more knowing the origin of his biggest hits. I learn what he was thinking when he was writing the song. Sometimes he shares how shocked he was when a certain track became a number one hit. He tells me one of the songs he wrote in fifteen minutes and tossed on an album because his producer was being a jerk and kept insisting the album needed one more song. Critics have called it one of the best songs he’s ever written.
We take a break after we’ve been working for two hours. I open a bottle of wine and offer him a red Solo cup. He accepts with his left hand. We sit down, leaning against the plaster wall.
Our fingers lock while sipping our wine and listening to his music. This moment feels so perfect that I ask, “Will you come to the grand opening party here at No Pink Caddy?”
Turning towards me, Aaron’s eyes are soft and just the corners of his mouth turn up. “It’s going to be filmed for your
show?”
The invite was spontaneous. I haven’t spent any time thinking a couple of steps ahead. It will confirm that we’re dating again. I think we’re so new that it might be a horrible idea. Fresh relationships don’t need the pressure of the media and the bright spotlight that follows him.
Before I can start back-pedaling, Aaron continues, “I’ve never been asked by a girl to be her date to anything.” He looks so pleased that you’d think I just gave him a million dollars, but I guess that’s a bad analogy. He already has plenty of money.
My nail finds my cuticle. I should tell him that it’s a really bad idea, but I don’t. I can’t disappoint that face. I take his cup and rest it next to mine. Then I crawl in his lap, dotting tiny kisses on his neck. “I want you there. It’s like the biggest evening of my life so far. If we’re going to be a couple, then of course you’re going to be there. Aaron Emerson, will you be my date?”
I feel like a fraud because the whole time I hope that he has a show that night, and we can keep us private for a bit longer.
He doesn’t say thank you or tell me how much my words mean to him. Instead he shows me. He wraps me in his arms and buries his head in my chest. There’s not a doubt in my mind that if he’s willing to appear on camera at my side at this pivotal event on my reality show that he’s committed to us. The bit of time I spent with his daughter, I learned just how private he likes to keep his personal life.
When he raises his cheek, I think I might catch a glimpse of shiny eyes. He turns and picks up his cup of wine, and I grab mine also.
“Your bathroom working?” he asks as he stands.
“Yes. It’s functional at this point but not very pretty.”
“That’s all I need.” He leaves his wine on the island and disappears into the restroom.
I whip out my phone and post a Tweet.
MK Landry @NoPinkCaddy
Floors are almost ready for your pretty high-heeled shoes. Who wants another chance to win an invite? #NPCGrandOpening
I so want to share the beautiful picture I took of Aaron, but he’s like my special little secret. I get him to myself for just a couple more weeks. The time will come soon enough when I’ll write a hearts and flowers blog post, and we’ll be inviting the paparazzi to the sidewalk outside of my carriage house once more. Right now, he’s mine, and I’m enjoying every second.