by Nicole Snow
Except now we're truly alone and secluded, behind my dad's beach bar. His kisses crash over me again and again, as sure and powerful as the dark waves lapping the shore behind us. He palms my breast, pinching my nipple, and I almost come on the spot.
“Christ. Chris!” Mom would slap me across the face if she heard me confusing Jesus with the bad boy at my throat.
Her efforts to fill me with more than a lukewarm faith never went very far. But I'm feeling heavenly now with his stubble on my skin, his lips, his rough hands all over my body. He holds me down, pushes between my legs, and starts to dry hump me.
I've gotten hot and heavy with a few guys before, even if I haven't gone all the way. Making out has nothing on this, and his delicious friction stabs deep. The bulge in his pants rakes through my shorts just right, pushing the fabric over my clit.
Help. Me.
My arms pinch tight around his neck. Chris growls, filling my mouth with his energy on the next kiss. His tongue flicks in and out of my mouth, deep and possessive, almost like he's fucking my mouth with his tongue.
His hips haven't stopped speeding up. They're frenzied, hellbent on burying me, crashing into me again and again.
I'm so damned close it hurts, ready to go careening over the edge, straight into my first climax at a man's touch.
He seems to sense it too. He breaks the kiss, beams his hot green eyes into mine, and gives me an ice cold look that seems way too serious for any ordinary lover. It's more like the sort of face you'd see on a cop ordering somebody to hit the ground, hands behind their backs.
“Fucking come for me, babe. I want to hear you whimper in my ear. I need to hear you come undone.” His hips punch mine harder, rougher, longer and meaner strokes. “Come!”
And I do.
My orgasm roars up like a huge wave and almost rips me in two. I can't even stop to wonder if I'm hurting him, tearing at his neck with my desperate nails, because the pleasure shaking my body engulfs me. My head hits the brick behind me as he continues to grind me against the wall.
Snarling, he shoves one hand down my waistband, pushes his fingers against my mound. My hips buck wildly against his calloused fingers until he finds my clit, and then I'm blasted into a whole new universe of ecstasy.
My thighs clench hard around his hand. I want those fingers deep inside me, a prelude to feeling the magnificent cock swollen in his pants pounding into me.
My hips rock wild as he rubs through my wetness. I push my lips against his shoulder, stifling the screams exploding up my throat, all I can do not to cry out across the hot summer beach.
“Babe? You okay?” That sexy stubble on his cheek brushes mine.
I open my eyes. It feels like my knees collapsed and he's holding me up by both hips, angling me against the wall, awake and safe in his strong arms.
“Yeah. I've never had it so good,” I tell him, running my tongue across my lips.
I've never had it at all.
A nervous spark shoots through me, cutting through the tingling desire. Something holds me back from telling this wolf of a man that I'm a virgin.
What the hell would he think? There were only two possibilities. He'd either turn around and run, or else rip me away from the wall, push me into the sand, and fuck me so hard I'd shatter.
I'm not ready for that. I'm nervous, lost in the butterflies soaring through my stomach, sapping all the confidence I had earlier.
Maybe if we just take it slow, I'll work my way into it. He doesn't need to know anything, right?
“My turn,” he growls. “You kiss like a little maniac, Delia. I fucking love it. Now, it's time to find out how hard you can suck my cock.”
His hands move to his hips. He backs up a step, and I watch him tearing at his belt. That massive bulge in his jeans is about to get a whole lot closer, stronger, real.
Shit. Sweet baby Jesus.
My heart pounds. My eyes fall to his crotch and they don't let up, and I notice I'm holding my breath, trying to stop myself from soaking what's left of my panties as I think about what he's about to reveal in all its hard, naked glory.
Then there's a sound like someone shredding the quiet night, and a burning rub in my pocket. I jump, realizing too late it's just my phone vibrating.
Ugh. Worst timing in the world.
Sighing, I pull it out, tap the screen, and see a message from my dad.
HONEY, ARE YOU OKAY? IT'S LATE. YOU'RE NOT HOME. SHOULD I SEND MARY DOWN TO SEE IF YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS ARE ALL RIGHT?
Chris stops, gives me a knowing grin. The look in his eyes isn't so patient, though. He looks like he wants to rip the phone out of my hands and smash it on the nearest rock, obliterating the distraction so I can get down on my knees, open his pants, and –
“Sorry. Just a second.” I type back furiously, tell my father I'll be home in another hour, maybe less.
I smile at Chris, ready to tuck the phone away and find my courage. Then another message blows up my screen.
CORDELIA, DON'T DO THIS TO ME TONIGHT. I TOLD YOU EVIE IS VERY NERVOUS ABOUT TOMORROW. PLEASE DON'T EMBARASS ME. YOU NEED YOUR BEAUTY SLEEP.
My brow furrows. Daddy's always been Mr. Responsibility, uptight and overprotective. It's sweet that he worries about me, but he's also terrified of rattling her.
He won't do anything to upset the Hollywood bombshell I never wanted for a stepmother. And as much as I hate to admit it, he's right. Evie gets bitchy, moody, and throws tantrums like a sixteen year old girl.
I've seen it happen with the servants. I know my father secretly fears her turning on him.
I look at Chris again, my smile gone. My heart sinks, and whatever confidence I had before is completely gone. This is no way to learn how to pleasure a man for the first time, bleeding guilt over busting dad's dreams about his fresh new happy family.
“I'm really sorry,” I say, stepping forward and stroking his arm. “There's an issue at home. I need to get going. Can we take a rain check?”
I bite my lip like some scared little romance heroine. Especially when he comes marching up, wraps an arm around my waist, and jerks me so hard against his chest I feel our heat collide.
“You're damned lucky I'm staying in town for the next week, babe.” His arrogant lips brush over mine. Softly at first, before his kiss deepens.
Rough. Aggressive. Domineering.
He wants me so fucking bad. And I want him. The fire in my pussy reignites, and I pinch my thighs together, trying to stop the wetness leaking out of me. His hands wrap around my backside, find my ass, and squeeze.
I moan, shimmer, dangerously close to coming all over again. I'm so turned on it's obscene, and I can't figure out if it's because he's just so hot, or because I'm the most inexperienced girl on this beach.
“Give me the phone,” he orders, not even waiting for me as he pushes his hand into my pocket.
Before I can say anything, he's got it, fumbling with the screen.
“Hey! What're you doing?”
“Putting in my digits as soon as you unlock this fucking thing. Here. Pull up your contacts.” He shoves it into my hand and folds his arms, waiting.
I feel like I'm fetching my insurance info for a cop. For a second, I think about bullshitting him, typing in nonsense that isn't whatever number he tells me.
That's the smart thing to do, hands down. Get out while the going's good. Chalk tonight up to a few drinks and a lot of pent up emotion.
If I just lie, I won't be tempted. I won't have to deal with his bossy, dirty mouth. But crap, then I'd miss finding out what else that mouth can do to me, what he feels like when I'm full of him, experiencing every inch of my body cracking apart as he owns me in ways I've never imagined.
I don't want to imagine anymore. I don't want to be the good girl, and this strange bad boy showed up just in time to offer me a way out.
“Get those fingers moving. Four-one-eight, nine-zero-seven...”
He rattles off his number. God help me, I put in every digit, holding i
t up when he's finished so he can see me saving it. I can always delete it later if I chicken out – or just go tumbling headfirst into the greatest storm I've ever known.
Next time, there won't be any distractions. He won't let it happen, and neither will I.
“Let's go. I'll walk you to your car,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along.
I can't stop savoring his heat the whole walk back, up the high concrete steps leading over the cliffs, and then toward dad's private parking lot. Several partiers are crashing for the night in their cars, and at least one truck is creaking and rocking, barely hiding the panting, grunting moans and laughs from the couple inside it.
“It was nice meeting you,” I say, kicking myself for not saying more. “We'll text tomorrow.”
“Yeah, we fucking better, or I'll be trespassing here a helluva a lot more.” He reaches through my open driver's window and grabs my hair, catching my long dark locks and giving them a stern pull.
It should freak me out, but it only hurts a little. It hurts so good.
“Everything they're doing over there,” he says, pointing to the pickup several spaces over where I heard the couple having sex. “I'm gonna do to you in spades. If you come so hard just feeling my hips and my hands rubbing you to heaven, you'll lose your damned mind when my mouth's on your clit.”
Shit. He pulls me forward, just enough to lower his face, pulsing more hot breath into my ear. “Get home. Rest up. Have a nice, peaceful night. Then clear your calendar tomorrow. We're gonna fuck the whole night. I need to hear everything you muffled on this beach. I need to make you scream, baby girl, and you will once you've had my cock. You'll scream when it's teasing you, fucking you, and then you'll beg me for more.”
I'm speechless. He's completely lost his mind, and I'm going to pieces for this psycho's dirty talk. I'm about to start my car and drive right over him, but he lets me go in one swift jerk, flashing me those sultry, determined green eyes again.
I'm flushed, melting down inside like the scared little virgin I am. But I'm determined to have him, to prove to myself I can do this.
“Tomorrow,” I mutter, unable to get my mind off his dick, which is still hard and outlined in his tight jeans. “Let's make an evening of it.”
“Goodnight, Delia.”
He nods to me and backs up, leaning against the car next to me. He watches me start my car and back out, and I know his eyes don't skip a beat until I'm out of sight.
I don't notice my hands shaking on the steering wheel until I'm halfway home. If it weren't for dad's text, I would've fucked a complete stranger. And not just any mystery man, but a tall, brash, heavily tattooed badass – the total opposite of every clean college boy I ever dated.
Am I losing my mind? Am I completely drunk, or just so horny I couldn't help it?
I don't know, but I'm going to text him tomorrow. I can't walk away when I'm so damned close to finally losing it with a man who makes all my senses purr.
Tomorrow's so bright, so lively, so vibrant I can practically taste it.
I'll eat light tomorrow at the family luncheon and skip through the snorefest meeting my new stepbrother. Then, I'll get in touch with Chris and we'll find a bar, maybe a quiet restaurant. Hell, maybe we'll just head straight to his place.
I'm barely old enough to drink, and way too old not to fuck. It's just one night. It's just sex. It's not forever, right?
No, I've made up my mind. There's no way one more meeting with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dirty can hurt. Especially not if it involves me pinned down underneath him, screaming in all the ways he's promised.
I want to find out how long it takes between my legs before he breaks too, tensing and groaning, melting into me.
2
On Target (Chris)
My last night in Iraq wasn't half as frustrating as this. I watch the beach hottie pull away and do a tight turn out of the lot.
My dick hammers in my pants like a jet engine. Christ, I need to fuck this girl. I need to fuck her so bad I punched in my digits, giving her a second chance, twenty-four hours to get ready for everything I've got.
And I'm going off like dynamite when I finally get her alone. I think about all the ways I'll be in her soon, fisting those long, dark locks the entire time.
I want it all, every damned inch of her. Under me, up on all fours, riding my cock while I slap her round ass, an ass that's just the right kinda thick built to make me come lightning.
Fuck. I didn't show up on this beach shopping for fresh meat. If I was hellbent on getting my dick hot and wet tonight, then I'd walk towards the fire pit and mingle with the drunken chicks I saw earlier.
I'm used to girls dropping their panties in a heartbeat. And I'd have had Delia's in my pocket already, or maybe stuffed into her mouth, if it hadn't been for the goddamned phone.
I don't want a random slut. I want her.
Something about Delia glows a hundred times hotter than them. Maybe it's because she's clean, soft, and pure, a good girl begging for the right man to tear apart the mask she wears.
Or maybe it's just those perky, palm-sized tits I had in my palms. Thinking about her rosy nipples makes me kick the sand, pissed that I've got a whole day to wait before I find out how quick I can make turn them soft with my tongue, my teeth, my roaming hands.
I'm not sure what to make of her just yet beyond the fucking, and that's part of the fun.
She didn't kiss like a rich, pretentious little girl either. When my lips landed on hers, I felt fire, and almost stumbled away with scorch marks on my tongue. My hips jammed my cock against her sweet pussy, separated only by a few thin layers of sopping wet fabric.
Chemistry? Fuck, it was more like a whole goddamned lab.
I know I'm fucked when I'm finally collecting my diving gear, gathering up my bag, and heading for my car, and I'm still thinking about her coming on my fingertips.
That little whimper she made right before I pinched her clit? It's burned into my skull all night, and if she turns coward tomorrow, it's gonna be damned hard finding a chick who sounds like that to take her place.
I hope like hell my threat to keep coming back to daddy's beach sunk in. I mean every word.
No woman ever leaves Chris Cleveland high and dry, and I'm sure as shit not going on my next mission with her pussy on my mind, unknown and unconquered.
I'm going to hit it 'til I'm bored of her sweet cunt, or else disappear like I always do when Uncle Sam sends me overseas again. That's my MO, what always works, and adding her notch to my bedpost sounds pretty damned good before I do my duty and return to find a new girl to fuck.
I head back to base, already loving the distraction she's giving me.
Too bad there's another one to get through first before I haul her into bed. It's gonna be rough getting through this bullshit with mom's rich new sugar daddy tomorrow. She screamed at me earlier today, all but insisted I get my ass over to his mansion tomorrow to meet him and his kid, some bland little rich girl in journalism or something.
Blowing off some steam between the sheets helps me forget about the latest crap my shell of a mother wants to sling in all directions. It helps me forget about the endless duties I've still got here Stateside as a SEAL, all the things I've done in the service that keeps me wondering about my karma debt when it's late and lonely.
I can't get too attached. I don't let my mind wander too much. I never, ever do.
Delia's just another fuck, after all, even if she's the hottest one I've had for months. I shower quickly before heading for my bunk, careful to charge my phone for tomorrow.
I resist the urge to jerk my dick off in the shower, thinking about that little sound she made for me when I sent her to heaven, or how fucking wet she was, grinding on my hand.
I'm saving everything for tomorrow, for her. She acts like she's never fucked a real man before, and if that's true, I'll leave her with something she'll never forget.
Sometimes I almost feel bad about my fuck-and-release policy, b
ut I don't do relationships when the US Navy owns my balls twenty-four-seven. There's no time for that shit.
If I leave the girls I fuck breathless and begging for more, it's not my problem. That's for the next guy in line to worry about, the poor bastard who'll never be able to bring them off like I do.
My guts churn when I pull up to the place, straight through the huge iron gate. I know the new rich cocksucker mom's hooked up with is loaded, but it's hard for me to believe just how rich this prick really is.
There's a guardhouse and everything. The slim, prissy older man inside looks like he wants to search my truck for an improvised explosive. I flash my badge, and Jeeves looks closely at the name, giving me a sour nod and waving me through.
Fucking prick. All of them.
It's just a matter of time before mom flames out and hits rehab again, sending the executive running to his next trophy wife. He probably thinks he's hit the jackpot with a washed up Hollywood starlet, but he'll find out real soon what he's gotten himself into.
I pass the keys to a servant playing valet when I pull up to the curb. The place is beautiful, high on the cliffs overlooking the roaring Pacific, probably even a sexy view of the entire Bay Area if I climb up to the bluffs.
It's just a few miles down the road from the party I crashed last night. Good. Maybe I'll be able to hit Delia's pussy sooner if she lives in the same rich neighborhood.
The house is more like a palace. My new stepdad has taste, I'll give the jackass that.
I walk through the double door entrance and stop when I see the huge crystal chandelier and sprawling staircases. It's like walking onto one of mom's sets, or maybe one of those historic homes she used to drag me to as a kid for charity shit before she went off the rails.
“Christopher!” I hear a squeal, and turn around just in time before she hits me. “Oh my God, I thought you'd never come home, darling. Let me show you to your room.”
“Whatever,” I growl, pulling her off me after a quick squeeze. “Let's get this over with. There's something I've got planned tonight after dinner. I can't stay all evening.”