by Amy Brent
“Ohhh,” I said, nodding my head in understanding. In the back of my mind, I filed away the information to use in the book I was going to be writing.
Everything about this night was research I told myself. I was getting some great stuff, too. I couldn’t wait to craft the story I knew my readers would eat up. A cabin in the woods, a raging snowstorm, a veritable hunk and a horny woman, seriously, what more could a writer ask for?
He kicked off his boots again and picked up a book that was sitting on a shelf. From my position at the woodstove, I could easily watch his hulking body move around the room. It was a very good view. I watched his long legs move and the muscle in his arm jump as he grabbed the book.
“You read?” I asked, sounding like a complete moron.
“Yes, I read. I’m not an idiot,” he growled, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch from where I’d been sitting earlier.
“I didn’t mean it like that. What kind of books do you enjoy?”
He shrugged, “True crime, biographies, things like that. I don’t like fluff.”
I smiled and nodded. “Not a big fan of romance novels?”
He looked at me as if I had two heads. “No! Who reads that shit?”
“Probably the same people who write that shit,” I said, with a cheesy smile.
“Don’t tell me you’re a romance writer?”
I shrugged and returned to my seat on the couch. “Yes, kind of. I like to write a little suspense and mystery in with my romance.”
“Is that even a thing?”
“Have you never seen a Tom Cruise movie or any other movie for that matter? There is always a hot girl, a hero—the hot guy who saves the day, and snippets of hot sex to fill in between the action.”
He looked horrified, “You write sex stuff?”
I nodded my head slowly, “Yes. Hot, steamy sex scenes that make either man or woman very excited.”
“I doubt that,” he scoffed.
“Trust me. I would let you read one of my mine, but I didn’t exactly pack along a library when I set out for my walk this morning.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he mumbled, opening the hardcover book in his hand.
I stared at him. I had nothing to do.
“Do you want to play a game or something?” I asked, feeling rather daring. It could be my raging hormones or the influence of the whiskey. Being daring would hopefully lead to my satisfaction.
He closed his book and released a long sigh. I felt like a child, bugging their parent to entertain them. I was bored, but mostly, I was hot and wanted some action. I wanted his attention.
“I don’t have games. I have cards. We could play a card game I suppose,” he said, with resignation in his voice.
I wrinkled my nose. That was definitely not what I had in mind. “I’m not really a fan of cards. A little slow for my taste.”
“Slow?”
I licked my lips. “Ya, slow. I like a game that moves much faster and is exciting. Cards are not exciting.”
“You don’t know how to play any card games do you?” he asked, with a knowing look.
“Not really,” I answered honestly. “I never cared to learn.”
“Well, I don’t have any board games. What other games are there?”
I looked into those blue eyes and felt a burst of courage. “How about a game of Truth or Dare?”
His eyes were suddenly heavy-lidded. I watched his nostrils flare with a sharp intake of breath. Mission accomplished. I had prodded him just enough. With a little luck, he would be prodding me with what I knew to be a very substantial dick.
Chapter Seven
Jake
Truth or dare?
That was a risky game suggestion. Was she drunk? I didn’t think I had given her that much whiskey, and it had been served with a hearty meal. Could she really be that much of a lightweight? I looked at her, really looked. She didn’t look drunk. She wasn’t really acting drunk. What the hell had come over her to say something like that?
If she wanted to play games, I could play. The woman didn’t know who she was fucking with. I wasn’t that same, naïve kid from all those years ago. I had grown up. I was a bit more jaded and a lot less patient with silly female games.
“Alright,” I said, leaning forward and putting the book on the coffee table. I leaned back, arms crossed over my chest. “Let’s do it.”
The woman was playing with fire, but I had a feeling she knew exactly what she was doing. I didn’t like games. I was going to show her what happened when one attempted to mess with my head.
“I’ll start. Truth or Dare?” she asked.
My immediate go-to was truth. Back as a freshman in high school, I had chosen dare and ended up naked, standing on the school sign in front of the building. I was still a little emotionally scarred from that ordeal. The suspension I received for the stunt had been the best thing that could have come from it. I didn’t have to face my peers for three days, and by the time I went back to school, most of them had forgotten all about me.
“Truth,” I said, knowing there was little she knew about me and therefore I could lie if I chose.
“Who was the first person you had sex with?”
Not the question I was expecting. Was she really prepared for the answer? I thought she would have already known the answer. I couldn’t wait to shock her. I didn’t need to hide the truth.
“You.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What?”
The fact that she hadn’t known or even suspected, judging by her reaction, surprised me. I had faked my expertise. I had gone to the bar that night with the sole intention of getting laid. My time in the Army had changed me. Truth be told, there had been some peer pressure. I’d pretended I was a sex veteran, but my innocence was pretty obvious to the other guys.
When I found out I was being deployed, I knew one thing—I didn’t want to die a virgin. That night, I’d set out with the sole intention of solving that problem. Calla had made it quite clear she would be a willing candidate and I had taken her up on the offer.
“You,” I said the word again in a low voice while looking directly into her eyes.
“Really?” she said on a breath.
I nodded my head. “Really. I had one night before I had to report for duty and then deploy to Iraq. I’d been at the bar for hours before you walked in with your friends. My buddies told me I didn’t have a chance. I knew from the moment I saw that busty redhead with a lot of spunk that I had to taste her.”
My eyes were glued to her as her lips parted and her chest moved up and down under my sweater. “But you—,” she didn’t finish her thought.
I knew exactly what she was thinking. I had faked my prowess. My only experience was what I had seen in the movies, what I had heard other guys talking about, and pure instinct.
“I bought you the obligatory drink, but I don’t think I needed to. I could tell you wanted me. I knew I wanted you. I was barely able to keep my hands off you. I remember you reached out and put one of your delicate hands on my arm and I nearly blew my wad right there on that barstool. We left a few minutes later and went back to my hotel room. We walked far too slow for my liking. I fought the urge to pick you up and throw you over my shoulder and run like hell. I was desperate to fuck you.”
Her head bobbed up and down. Her tongue darted out and licked her bottom lip before she sucked that lip in and nibbled on it. The nervous gesture created a firestorm deep inside my belly. My dick hardened. I spread my legs a bit to give myself some room. Her eyes immediately went to my crotch. With the way I was leaning back against the couch, I knew she could see my erection tenting my sweats. I waited until she looked into my eyes before I continued my telling of events that night. I wanted to watch her reaction.
“I couldn’t keep my hands off you and had you naked before the door closed behind us. Your tits,” I closed my eyes and let my head drop back a little. “Your heavy breasts in my hands. Your nipples were erect, and my dick fe
lt as if it would explode. I had thought I would need foreplay to work up the courage, but I couldn’t hold back. Do you remember I fucked you so hard, the bed broke?”
Calla nodded her head; her teeth worked her bottom lip and all I could think about was that mouth wrapped around my dick.
I continued on with my retelling of events. “The first stroke inside your hot, wet pussy nearly made me cum, but I held out. I felt your pussy squeezing around me and thought I would pass out from the sweet ecstasy.”
Her hand came up to her mouth, two fingers rubbed over her bottom lip before pulling down, her mouth opening as she did. The hand moved down her neck, trailing over her breasts.
I kept going, eager to see her response. “That night was burned into my memory. You rode me so hard. I could have never, in any of my wildest fantasies imagined how good it would feel to have a woman ride me like you did. It was so good,” I groaned out the word.
She squirmed under the blanket and I knew she was aroused. Her hand slid below the blanket and I nearly fucking embarrassed myself. Was she touching herself? I struggled to draw in a breath as I imagined her fingers moving over bare pussy.
I pushed on. “I never could have imagined how hot the little redhead I picked up in the bar would be, even if she was using a fake ID. The woman I took home that night gave me the ride of a lifetime. I was very glad I had a woman who knew how to bring a man’s fantasies to reality. I have always considered myself very lucky for scoring a woman of your many talents.”
I watched as her cheeks turned pink in the dim light. I could hear her panting. The sound stirred a memory, encouraging me to go on with my tale. Hell, the retelling was damn near as good as the actual experience.
“Whenever I got a chance to close my eyes and really sleep while I was over there, it was the image of you I saw. I envisioned your breasts bouncing up and down and your head thrown back as you came. That image is what I went to sleep thinking about. I thought about how much you tasted like cinnamon and fire. I would wake up with a raging hard-on, even when that was frowned upon. I couldn’t stop my body’s reaction. Every time I thought about my last night in the states with the woman who fucked me senseless, it gave me a reason to keep going. The chance to experience something like that again, pushed me to fight through some of the hardest moments of my life,” I told her, meaning every word. “It was your face, your hot pussy and your beautiful body that spurred me on.”
She was looking at me with a mixture of compassion and pure unadulterated sex. I knew I had managed to successfully ignite her passion. I wondered how high I could take her. Could I make her cum just by talking? Thinking about her O face made my dick hard as hell. I reached down to adjust things a little. I grabbed my dick and gave it a good squeeze, knowing she was watching me.
I heard something that was a cross between a moan and a gasp for breath. When I turned to face her again, something had changed. She was looking at my dick like a fat kid looked at cake. Her eyes were greedy when she looked up at me. It was almost scary. Almost.
I didn’t get the chance to ask her what she wanted. The woman threw the blanket off and jumped on me, her legs straddling either side of me as she ground herself against my erection. Her mouth closed over mine, hungrily kissing me.
The action took me by total surprise. I had initially been too stunned to react, but my body soon caught up to what was happening. I opened my mouth wide, letting her plunge her tongue inside. My tongue dueled with hers and soon I was in her mouth. I nibbled that bottom lip she had just been chewing on, thrusting my dick against her mound. The taste of her mouth combined with the smell of her arousal was intoxicating and I could feel my control slipping away.
She moaned low in her throat. My hands grabbed her round ass and squeezed while pulling her closer against me. I could feel the heat emanating from between her legs. I knew she was wet. I remembered how wet she had been on our one and only night together. Her body had been so responsive. I had never found another woman who responded to me in the same way.
Her hands were in my hair, pulling my head up and back to give herself better access to my tonsils. I happily obliged and let her have her way with me.
“Fuck, Calla. What you do to me should be illegal,” I growled, as her mouth moved to my neck.
Her body jerked forward.
“Your sweet, sweet pussy has been in my dreams. I want to run my tongue down your slit and drink in your juices,” I groaned out, her tongue lapped my ear as her hips ground against me.
“Do you want that, Calla? Do you want me to lick you, stick my tongue inside you?”
I heard her whimper. The heat between us was dangerous. We didn’t need a fire burning, we were producing plenty of heat.
I moved my hand away from her ass before slapping it back against the pert cheeks sticking out and up as she arched her back, pushing her breasts against my chest.
She cried out and her mouth moved back to mine, right where I wanted it. The woman had been a wildcat in bed. I had managed to fake my experience back then, but now I had the experience and the desire to show her who was really in charge. I could fuck her senseless. I would show her how much I had learned and the control I could wield.
I slapped her other cheek. She moaned into my mouth. I knew I had her on the edge of a climax. I could feel it in the way her legs tightened around my waist. She was frantic, pushing herself higher. The woman wanted to fuck.
Chapter Eight
Calla
The man had driven me to the point that I felt as if I was being pulled in a million different ways. I was panting like a dog that had been running. My nerves felt raw. Every scrape of his hand over my body had me jerking under his touch. I was desperate to join with him. I needed to feel his dick inside me, stretching me. The man was hung like a horse, a detail I remembered quite vividly.
That first time, I too had been a virgin. I knew that most girls having their first sexual experience probably would have been intimidated. I didn’t have the chance to be afraid of him fitting. He had plunged inside me before I could freak out over our disproportionate sizes. He fit just fine. Better than fine. Remembering the way he had thrust his hips triggered a violent response. I rocked against him.
His hand moved up my back, his fingertips pressing into my skin through the thick sweater. I wiggled my hips, encouraging him to take off some clothes. I wanted to be bare. I could feel the fabric between my legs getting soaked. I couldn’t remember ever getting this excited or wet with another man, especially not Blake. Blake could barely make me climax. Jake had me on the edge with just his words.
I moaned into his mouth, pushed my breasts against his chest to the point it hurt and silently begged. I knew it was not dignified, but I didn’t care.
“Calla,” he breathed my name a second before he lunged forward, twisted with my body draped against his and slammed me onto the couch.
“Jake,” I said his name, not hiding the excitement I felt.
His large body pressed against me, pushing my back into the soft couch cushions. My legs wrapped around his hips, my heels digging into his butt, driving him against me. I relished the feel of his weight, loving the way I he completely covered me with his body.
“Do you want me?” he asked in a strained voice, going up on one elbow.
“Yes!” I nearly screamed. “Yes, Jake. I want you.”
He kissed a trail over my jaw and down my neck, stretching his sweater away from my shoulder and kissing my collar bone. It felt as if he was searing me, branding me with those hot, wet kisses. I arched against him, cursing the clothing between us. If he didn’t take it off soon, I was going to start ripping fabric.
The kisses were good enough—for now. The man was a fucking genius with that tongue of his. I wanted it elsewhere, but I would enjoy the kissing. We could take it slow. We had all night, I reminded myself. For now, I would let myself fall into those panty-melting kisses.
“No!” I cried out when he pulled away from me, unceremoniousl
y pushed my feet off the end of the couch and sat back where he had just been sitting. “Jake?”
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“I’m not. Jake,” I hoped to explain myself.
He ran a hand through his hair and then over his face as if he was wiping away what had just happened. I couldn’t move. I lay there panting, wanting to cry at the loss of his lips from mine. This wasn’t over. I sat up, straightened the sweater and moved back to my side of the couch. Maybe he preferred a bit more of a challenge and I had ruined it by literally throwing myself at him.
“I don’t know what that was,” he said, moving his other hand through his long hair.
It was only a little mussed from my jumping him. I liked it wild and untamed, just like I liked the man.
“That was, it was, spontaneous,” I said, for lack of a better word.
There was a harsh chuckle. “Was it?” he asked, heavy on the sarcasm.
“Yes,” I said, feeling the need to defend myself. The man acted like I had planned to attack him.
Okay, maybe I did, but he didn’t need to call me out on it. That wasn’t cool.
I could feel the tension between us ratcheting up. It pushed out the passion that had just been there. I wanted the passion back. The tension was making things awkward. I didn’t like awkward. It felt very next morning-like. I refused to feel weird and awkward when I didn’t get the benefit of sex.
“It was delicious,” I murmured.
“I don’t know anything about you. I mean, I don’t know if you are married or single or what,” he said, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe what had almost happened. “That was a mistake.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, once again defending myself.
I wasn’t going to volunteer any information about my personal life. I had a feeling he would not be okay with the Blake situation.
Giving up wasn’t something I did. I was tenacious and crazy horny. An idea sprang to mind. We were still in our game. One question did not make a game of Truth or Dare. It was my turn. I knew exactly what I was going to choose