Angry Sex

by Sommer Marsden

  And then she pinched her clit hard, held it between her fingertips while he drove deep.

  When she let it go and pressed it almost too gently, she came, her face pressed to the bedding, her hair a mess around her face.

  “Jesus, Benjamin,” she sighed. “Come with me.”

  “Loo,” he said again, and then obeyed her.

  * * * * *

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

  She smiled at him, pushed him back before leaning in—as an afterthought—to kiss him.

  “We’ll get it all complicated and sticky and we both know that we will never work again. It’s not who we are anymore.”

  Ben touched her hair. A kiss after sex had turned into another round of touching and making out had turned into a high spirited sixty-nine. She’d pushed his thighs down so hard to suck his cock he’d gotten a Charley Horse. He’d yanked her ass down so roughly to eat her out her legs were still shaking.

  “I know. But damn, Loo.”

  She shrugged. “Good sex is good sex.”

  And angry sex is angry sex… The thought flitted through her mind bringing up a vivid mental image of one studly server cropped up in her mind.

  “I love you,” he said. “I always will.”

  She touched his chin, his nose. Remembered waking up on lazy Sunday mornings to stare at his handsome sleeping face before he turned to her—catching her—and made love to her quietly so that Nick wouldn’t hear. “And I’ll always love you,” she said.

  She let him out and went to shower. Any moment now her parents would be calling to say the three of them had arrived home safely and that Nick was off doing whatever Nick would be off doing.

  The sex and the comfort from Ben had almost eased that ache she felt. Almost stifled the anxiety over him dealing with all he was dealing with while being so far from her.

  “Jesus, Luna Jo,” she laughed. “Two and a half hours is not so far away. In case of an emergency you could get to him simple pimple.”

  Simple pimple was Nick’s saying and it made her smile. She stepped into the steaming hot water to realize she was that person now. That person who could only function if they knew the worst case scenario.

  Which was a reasonable way to be. At least on the surface.

  Chapter Eight

  “Bank people have boring taste,” Savannah said.

  Luna shook her head. Her mind had been a million miles away in la-la land with a naked and ready Adam. She dragged her gaze from watching him—he maneuvered the room with precision and cool intent, serving women who flirted shamelessly with him—to her best friend.

  “What?”

  “I said, bank people have boring taste. Dill dip, steamed shrimp, cucumber sandwiches, veg platters and such. Boooooor-ring.”

  “Well, it’s a gig. I don’t care if they want baby food and dried corn,” she snorted.

  “Whatever they want, if it’s in the budget we set and we can do it, we do it.” She hollowed out another pumpernickel round, filled it with her homemade dill dip and then cut up the bread guts into chunks.

  “You’ve gotten laid. Again,” Savannah observed, arranging a crudité platter with ease.

  “Yes. Nick left, I was sad. Ben was sad…” she sighed. “Everyone was sad and angry and scared, except Nick, mind you—who is the most important one of all. And when my parents left with him we sort of…” she shrugged. “Fell into bed together and got busy.”

  “Once?”

  “Does oral count too?” she whispered.

  Savannah winked. “Twice.”

  “Yes.” Luna found herself looking at him again. Tall, well muscled, blue-eyed, sandy haired—angry sex god. Adam.

  “But you want more. New. Different. Sizzling,” Savannah said, addressing the vegetables and not looking directly at Luna.

  “I want someone I can’t smash with my emotions, or lack thereof. I want someone who is okay with the business of fucking just being the business of fucking.” She was barely whispering her voice was so soft, but from across the room, Adam looked up as if he could sense she was talking about him. And sex.

  “He called last night, he said,” Savannah snickered.

  “He did,” Luna confirmed, blushing.

  “See, now…he looked just like you do right now when he confirmed that he spoke to you. Did you guys have phone nookie or something?”

  “Good god no!” she said a bit too loud and dropped her spoon. Dill dip splattered her black lace up boots. “Damn.”

  “Well, it was more than, Hi, Luna, I’d really like a job. Can you use me? That’s for sure?”

  “Be quiet,” Luna sighed. “Just…let’s…ugh.” She grabbed her platter of dill dip and bread and hurried out to the boring bank people. All she needed to do was focus on serving and being a good caterer. She did not need to be thinking about sex with new men, how she’d like to pull his hair until he groaned. Or sort of how she wouldn’t mind if he did the same to her.

  We could use and abuse each other until we get it out of our systems. What’s the worst case scenario? A boon of orgasms?

  She schmoozed for a moment with the bank manager who introduced her as Luna, “one of the magicians who whips up these shindigs”. Then she congratulated the nice lady who was getting a promotion and hurried off.

  She ran smack dab into a big-chested, grinning man when she pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

  “Careful when you look at me, boss lady. People might know what you’re thinking by the color in your cheeks and the smoke coming out your ears.” She sighed, trying to sound annoyed, but it was really just to get enough air. They were in a tiny side pocket of the room that held nothing more than an ice machine and the coffee station.

  He had her wedged in there so all she could smell was him. Something almost spicy and woodsy but mixed with the very real smell of active man.

  He grinned again, it was both cocky and concerned, and then touched her lower lip ever so softly with his finger. “Let me take you home, boss lady.”

  “No.” Luna barely managed the word. She was too aware—crazily aware—of the steady thump of her pulse in her cunt. If she focused on its rhythm she swore it beat out the mantra: say yes—say yes—say yes…

  “You’re mouth says no, but your face…” He leaned in so close her heart trip-hammered.

  Adam brushed a kiss over her cheekbone. It was a phantom kiss, barely there, so fucking chaste and yet…

  It ripped a moan from her before she could stifle it.

  “You’re face says yes, Luna. Me and you. Angry sex. Angry sex with no strings. It’s like therapy…only naked.”

  Adam pulled back when the door swung open so that there was a very respectable two feet of space between them. But his eyes, oh Jesus, his eyes were entirely improper.

  “Think about it,” he said. Then he turned and was gone.

  He was the person she could go at it with, without worry. He was the person she could unleash on.

  Unleash? What does that mean? Release the Kraken? The thought made her bite her lip and smile. It means no inhibitions. No fear. No. Fear.

  Her cell phone vibrated and when she saw her parents’ number, her heart sank. Luna darted into the small room that served as a kitchen office.

  “Hello? Yes, hello? What’s wrong?” she whispered, clutching the phone so hard she made it creak.

  “Luna? It’s dad. Nothing’s wrong, honey, breathe.”

  She managed to then, a great sucking gust of air in her lungs and then a deep exhausted exhale. “You scared me. How is Nick? Is everything okay?” Her father chuckled, and she had a violent irrational urge to try and reach through the phone and smack him. Which then made her feel bad.

  “Luna, honey, he’s fine. Calm down. Mom told me to call and ask if there were any food allergies we were dealing with. You know your sister’s kids all have some. Peanuts, eggs, and of all things, chocolate. She’s headed to the Basket and Cart tomorrow and wanted to know—“

>   “That is why you scared the hell out of me!” she erupted.

  “I didn’t know that calling your phone would scare the hell out of you, hon.”

  “I…I…” He was right. Of course he was. And she could only stammer as all of her fear and anxiety puddled in her gut and made her feel slow, sluggish and mildly insane. “No,” she finally said. “No allergies. Eggs too early in the morning upset his stomach and make him run to the bathroom—but it’s not an allergy.”

  “Got it,” her father said, sounding wary.

  “Where’s Nick? Can I talk to him?”

  “He’s out with Joshua.”

  “How’s his tic?”

  “Fine. There, but nothing that makes you stop and take notice,” her dad said.

  “Sure, you’re his grandfather. Of course you wouldn’t notice. But everyone—“

  “—else doesn’t matter,” her dad said softly. “Luna, has it occurred to you that part of his problem, part of what’s going on with him, is that you are so busy worrying about something being wrong with him that you’re stressing him out. It’s not cancer—“

  “Dad!”

  “It’s not anything life threatening. The only thing it means is sometimes he’s annoyed and sometimes people look. Sometimes he stands out as different. But lightning bug, different is not the end of the world.”

  “Dad,” she said again, her voice a milky sad ghost passing over her lips.

  “Just stop worrying about him being different and worry about what an amazing kid he is.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” she hissed. “It’s very easy to say all that when you don’t do the specialist appointments and the worry and the meds and the kids at school. You don’t go through that. You don’t…” She was at a loss for words to describe what she felt. So Luna did something she’d never done before.

  She angrily pushed the red button on her phone, effectively hanging up on her dad.

  She looked up to see a hulking form in the doorway. Adam.

  “Hey,” he said, stepping into the tiny room.

  There was that shift of energy again. That charge like a storm coming.

  “Hey,” she echoed, wiping at her eyes. When had they started leaking?

  “You okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Savannah asked me to find you,” he said, cocking a thumb behind him. “And tell you that the final platters have been put out and we’re starting to clean up. She heard the phone ring and thought maybe it was about your son—“

  Luna cut him off by raising a hand. Under his gruff handsome exterior, he must have been a good guy. In those denim blue eyes she saw a lot of concern and kindness, but she looked away. Luna didn’t want to muddy what she already felt for Adam— unadulterated lust.

  “Shut the door, please,” she said.

  He stepped further in and pushed it shut. She reached past him, pushed the button on the doorknob. The click was as satisfying as a starter’s pistol at a race.

  Luna didn’t let herself pause to consider or think. She pushed her hands into his dark blond hair and yanked. Adam made a noise that was part startled, part aggression and then pulled her to him, sealing his mouth to hers. His tongue hot as it forced past the barrier of her lips. His grip tight as he held her there at the flare of her hips.

  “Luna—“

  “Shut up and kiss me,” she said.

  She yanked again and he hissed. Luna put all her anger into that kiss, bullying his tongue until he was sweeping it in taunting arcs and whirls.

  “We need to help clean up,” she sighed, coming back to herself a little.

  His hands clamped down on her hips and he hauled her forward so fast she hiccupped a little with shock. “In a minute.”

  Her fingers remained threaded tightly in his hair and she wanted to—actually, felt the great urge to—yank so that he growled again. But he suddenly covered her hands with his and pulled, forcing her fists down. Pressing them to the sides of her thighs.

  Effectively showing her that she was in charge only because he was letting her.

  A shiver worked through her and she said, “We really should.” Adam nodded, didn’t say a word. He pushed his hand roughly down into her black work pants. Penetrated the cotton barrier of her panties. His voice was gravel and busted glass. “In a minute.”

  His fingers drove into her—no preamble, no permission asked—and he started a lazy thrust that had her biting her bottom lip so hard she realized it hurt.

  “Just one minute. I think you only have a minute in you, boss lady,” he informed her.

  He kept his dark blue eyes trained on hers and she found it impossible to look away.

  Breaking the visual connection to him as he did this thing to her wasn’t even an option.

  “Only one minute, boss lady,” he said. Adam thrust his fingers deep, his palm grinding against her swollen clit, his fingers curling deep in her to stimulate the fat swollen needy places inside of her.

  And she came. Her hands clutching his broad shoulders for support, her mouth clamped together to stifle her cries, her gazed locked so aggressively with his it was almost a challenge.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked someone dead in the eye as she came.

  He kissed her once, pulled his hand free and said, “Let’s go clean up.” She cleared her throat and straightened her waistband, trying to regain her control.

  “Right. Let’s. But for goodness sake, please wash your hands first.” He laughed as he walked from the office.

  Chapter Nine

  She put the dishes in the back of her SUV. Savannah beeped twice as she drove off.

  She’d given Luna a sly smile as if she knew what had happened. There was no way she knew what had happened. Luna didn’t even know what had happened. Or how it had happened. The thought that somehow she was the one putting stress on her son by her fear of him not being normal was overwhelming. She’d never hung up on her father, not once in her life. Not even as a rowdy, loud mouthed teenager. But what he had said had been so hurtful--so crushing—she could only wonder if it hit home so hard because it was true.

  Her phone vibrated just as she started the engine. Luna licked her lips, realizing in some small way she was doing it so that she could relive the kiss. The feel of being bound in Adam’s arms as he’d kissed her. As he allowed her to hurt him in small ways before taking what he wanted, which, blissfully, included getting her off. He’d had no orgasm in that small office, but the air he had when he left was that of a man greatly satisfied.

  “Weird,” she muttered, unlocking her screen to read her phone.

  I’M COMING HOME WITH YOU

  She didn’t need to read the number to know who it was. All of her employees, short term or permanent, had her cell phone number in case they ever needed to get in touch with her.

  Catering was a crazy business—most people didn’t realize it—you dealt with a lot of big client egos and a lot of last minute, no-time-to-screw-up, shit.

  WHO IS THIS? She texted, laughing a little. But her stomach did an anxiety riddled dance and she shifted in her seat. Her pussy started to thump in time with her heart as she remembered his fingers penetrating her. The way he’d stared her down, almost aggressively, as he got her off.

  Her phone burbled.

  FUNNY. I’M IN THE GREEN JEEP. I’M FOLLOWING YOU OR YOU’RE GIVING

  ME YOUR ADDRESS

  With shaking fingers, Luna typed out the words. 12 BIRCH STREET. WHITE HOUSE

  WITH BLACK SHUTTERS. PULL IN THE DRIVEWAY.

  Then before she could second guess herself, she put her the SUV in gear and headed home. She would ignore her shaking hands and her pounding pulse and her nervous belly. It was just sex. And after what she’d been through, she could use some good old-fashioned sexual pleasure. And then some.

  * * * * *

  When he pulled into the driveway, she had to put her hands on her belly to soothe the nervousness that felt barely contained in there. Luna p
ut her forehead to the steering wheel for a moment to try and quiet her screaming brain. Her breath was a fast pant like she’d been running and that was how she felt–overwhelmed, galloping heart, possibly might be ill.

  There was a rap on the window and she unlocked the door without looking up.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Because women always do this when they’re fine.”

  “You make me nervous.”

  “I thought I made you angry,” he said tugging her arm. But she didn’t move.

  “You do make me angry—I mean you don’t make me angry, my life is making me angry, you just seem okay with me expressing it. And you won’t crumble.”

  “Of course not, boss lady,” he said and tugged her arm again. This time she turned a bit in the driver’s seat but didn’t get out. At least she’d picked her head up.

  “But you make me nervous because you let me be angry.”

  “And you’re not used to that.”

  “Right.”

  “Come on, Luna.” He pulled a bit more insistently and she turned, got out, stood up.

  Adam brushed her hair behind her ears and kissed her. It was rough, unkind and it turned her on to no end. She stood on tiptoe demanding more of him. He gripped her ass tight, held her flush to his erection—there was no secret it was there—so she couldn’t squirm away.

  “Open your front door so we can take this inside,” he said, his lips pressed to the skin above her jugular. When Adam pinched her nipple, she wasn’t expecting it, and she jerked against him, crying out softly.

  It was getting dark, and she hoped the whole damn neighborhood wasn’t watching them do this in her driveway.

  “Come on,” she said and took his hand. “Let’s go.”

  It was almost impossible for her to fit the key in the lock. But she finally managed, reminding herself that she was the one who wanted to let go. She jumped when his hand came down over hers, helping her guide the key to turn it.

  “Come on. I thought you were strong,” he said, lips pressed to her ear.