Sex Machine: A Standalone Contemporary Romance

by Force,Marie

  “Because you’re so sexy.”

  “You think so?” She’s the hottest babe in town. Everyone knows that, except, apparently, her, but that hint of insecurity is just another thing to love about her.

  I push my hard-as-a-rock cock against her pussy. “You really have to ask?”

  She lifts herself up, high enough to press the tip of my cock into her wet heat, sinking down on me in slow increments that have me counting backward from one thousand as I try not to blow my load like an untested boy. The more we do this, the easier it is for her to take me, but we still go slowly at first, giving her body the time to stretch to accommodate me. I never want to hurt her or give her reason to avoid having sex with me.

  She winces, and I grasp her ass cheeks to slow her down. “Take it easy, Honey Bunches. We’re not in any rush.”

  “I hate when my body won’t let you in.”

  I rub my thumb in circles on her clit while sucking her nipple into my mouth. The combination always helps to ease the way, and this time is no exception. “See?” I say as she sinks farther down on my shaft. “You can do it.”

  “Hmmmm.”

  “Tell me how it feels.”

  “Big,” she says on a gasp. “Tight.”

  “Those are good words. Give me more.” I pull her in closer to me and gain another inch.

  “Hot, wet, thrilling.”

  “Is it? Thrilling?”

  She takes my hand from her breast and lays it flat on her chest so I can feel the fast and frantic beat of her heart. “You tell me.”

  I can’t breathe over the rush of emotion that catches me completely unprepared. Just when I think I can’t feel any more, she surprises me. “I love you, Honey.” I never get tired of telling her that or hearing her say it to me.

  “Love you, too. I’m obsessed with you. It’s not healthy to be so obsessed with a man.”

  “Yes, it is.” I love that she’s obsessed with me. I’m going to come so damned hard. “It’s incredibly healthy as long as the person you’re obsessed with is equally obsessed.”

  She finally takes all of me and throws her head back in complete surrender. It’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen. She is, quite simply, mine. All mine.

  “Ride me, darlin’. Make me come.”

  Honey bites her bottom lip and begins to move, and fuck if it’s not the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. The drag of her pussy on my cock, the bounce of her breasts, the pulse that throbs in her throat and the flush that heats her cheeks are almost too much for me to take all at one time.

  I reach down to where we’re joined to make sure I’m not the only one who’s going to explode. She doesn’t disappoint me, and when she comes, the tight grip of her muscles on my cock is my undoing.

  Honey collapses on top of me, and I wrap my arms around her, wanting to keep her close to me for a while longer. Who am I kidding? I want to keep her close to me forever.

  “I can’t believe you’re still hard after that,” she says after a long period of silence.

  “It’s your fault.”

  “How is it my fault?”

  “He never gets tired of being inside you.”

  She shivers in my arms. “When you say things like that…”

  “What?”

  “I believe that it’s really possible we’re going to make this work.”

  “It is possible, and we are making it work. Already.”

  “Please don’t change your mind.”

  “I’m not going to. I promise.”

  At first I’m not sure what woke me up. It’s the middle of the night. Blake is asleep next to me, but he’s restless. His legs are moving, and with the faint glow coming from the nightlight, I can see his hands are gripping the comforter in tight fists.

  I lay my hand on his chest, and I’m shocked to discover he’s drenched in sweat, and his heart is pounding under my palm. “Blake.” I scoot closer to him and kiss his shoulder. “Babe.”

  He cries out like he’s in agonizing pain.

  Alarmed, I sit up and put my hand on his face. “Blake! Baby, wake up!”

  He mutters something unintelligible and then whimpers.

  I can’t bear to see him hurting, even if he’s hurting in his sleep. Leaning over him, I kiss his face and then his lips.

  He comes to with a start, his eyes wild as they dart around the room.

  “I’m right here, Blake. You’re okay.”

  “I, um…” He scrubs a hand over his face and abruptly gets up to use the bathroom.

  While I wait for him, I stare up at the ceiling, wondering what he was dreaming about and whether he’ll tell me.

  He’s in the bathroom for quite some time, and when he slides back into bed, his skin is cool and his breathing back to normal. “Sorry to wake you.”

  “Please don’t apologize. Do you want to tell me about it?”

  “No, not really.”

  Stung by his sharp tone, I sink back into my pillow and literally bite my tongue to keep from pushing him. I already know that’s the fastest way to shut him down, so I resolve to respect his boundaries and his privacy, even if I have a pretty good idea of what he was dreaming about.

  We’re quiet for a long time, so long that I suspect he’s gone back to sleep. But then he breaks the silence. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be short with you, Honeydew.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it isn’t.” He rolls over to face me and reaches for my hand, linking our fingers.

  That’s all it takes to put everything back on track, at least for me. “I have nightmares about the accident. I always have. It’s one of the reasons I hardly ever spend the night with anyone.” He squeezes my hand. “Until recently.”

  “I’m so sorry you have to relive it that way.”

  “It’s ironic because I have no memory of the actual accident, but it plays out in living, breathing color in my dreams. I see the truck coming at us, and I know what’s going to happen, but I can’t do a thing to stop it.”

  It breaks my heart to know he still suffers so profoundly from something that happened nearly twelve years ago. While the rest of us found a way to go on after we lost Jordan, in many ways, Blake is still stuck at day one.

  “I never know when the nightmare is going to come back. I’d understand if you didn’t want to sleep with me.”

  “Nothing could make me not want to sleep with you. When the nightmare comes, we’ll deal with it together. You’re not alone anymore.” I tug on his hand and urge him to come closer.

  Sighing, he lays his head on my chest.

  I wrap my arms around him. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”

  “Honey…”

  “I know.” I kiss the top of his head and run my lips over the silk of his hair. “I love you, too.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Today’s the day we make our debut to my family, and I’m nervous. Not about whether I want Honey with me, because I do. I want her with me every second of every day. No, I’m nervous because I know this will be as big of a deal to my family as it is to me. They haven’t seen me with another woman since Jordan died. They’ll understand the significance of me bringing a date to a family party, which is why I feel the need to warn Honey.

  I bring coffee into the bathroom, where she’s fussing over her hair, not that it needs anything extra to be beautiful. Putting the coffee on the vanity, I kiss her bare shoulder.

  “I won’t make us late,” she says. “I promise.”

  “Take your time. They’re not going anywhere. It’ll go long into the night with a bonfire and s’mores and fireworks and more food than an army can eat in a month.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” she says with a wistful sigh. “I’ve never been to a family reunion before.”

  The statement makes me ache for how alone she’s been. “This’ll be the first of many we’ll go to together. My family will be your family.”

  In the mirror, I can see that my words have brought tears to her eyes. God
, I love her. I love her so fucking much. I love her sweetness and her vulnerability as much as her effortless sexiness.

  “I think I’m ready.”

  I take a step back to give her room to turn around.

  “Do I look okay?”

  She’s wearing a simple yellow dress that offsets her light tan. “You look even more gorgeous than usual.”

  Resting a hand over her belly, she says, “I’m kinda nervous. I mean, I know your folks and your brothers and sisters, but going there together…”

  “It means something.”

  She nods. “Exactly.”

  “True confession? I’m a little nervous, too, for the same reason.”

  “Oh,” she says, her smile faltering ever so slightly.

  “Not because I’m bringing you, but because I expect them to make a big deal out of it. I’m afraid that’ll scare you off.”

  She flattens her hands on my chest and looks up at me, all sunshine and light and everything I need to be happy. “Nothing could scare me off.”

  “You say that now. Wait until you get a belly full of the Dempseys all at one time.”

  “I say that forever.”

  I release a deep breath and let the tension drain out of me. What do I care if this is a big deal to my family? As long as I have her there with me, it’ll all be fine. “Let’s get going.”

  Honey packs up the potato salad and cookies she made this morning and gathers the bunch of sunflowers from her Gran’s garden that she cut for my mom, as well as her camera bag that she rarely leaves home without.

  I help her carry it all out to my truck and get her settled before I walk around the front and get in the driver’s side. We back out of her driveway, and she reaches for my hand, something that’s become a habit I’ve grown used to. She holds my hand as we drive out of town to my aunt and uncle’s ranch, where the party is being held.

  When we arrive, I let go of her hand long enough to go around the truck to help her out, shouldering her bag of food as well as her camera bag. I grasp her hand again to walk across the wide expanse of brown lawn, around the sprawling ranch house that was a second home to me growing up, to the backyard, where a tent protects guests from the heat of the West Texas sun.

  The pool is full of screaming kids, including my nieces and nephews. My eight-year-old nephew, Liam, lets out a shriek when he sees me. The next thing I know, he’s racing across the yard to jump on me, wet bathing suit and all. I release Honey’s hand so I won’t drop the little monkey.

  “Uncle Blake, are you gonna swim with us?”

  “You bet, buddy. Just let me say hi to everyone, and then I’ll be right there.”

  “’K.” He looks past me to Honey. “Who’s she?”

  Smiling at the blunt question, I tell him, “That’s my girlfriend, Honey. Can you say hi to her?”

  “Hi, Honey. That’s what my mom calls me.”

  “My Gran called me that so much that everyone started calling me Honey.”

  “That’s cool.” He begins to squiggle, wanting to get back to the pool.

  I let him down, and he runs off. I look up to see my parents walking over to us, hand in hand as usual. They know I’ve been busy lately, but until right now, they haven’t known why. Judging by the delighted expressions on their faces, my arrival with Honey is good news.

  “Honey!” Mom says. “It’s so nice to see you!”

  “You, too, Mrs. Dempsey.”

  Mom hugs Honey. “Oh, please, call me Joan. We’re all adults now.”

  I can see that Honey is touched by Mom’s genuine pleasure in seeing us together. “Thank you, Joan.”

  “And I’m Mike,” Dad says, giving her a hug and then giving me one. His grip is extra tight, and when he lets me go, I notice his eyes are damp.

  Right in that moment, I finally understand how difficult my years of grief have been on them, which disposes of the nerves I arrived with. They’re thrilled to see me happy again.

  Smiling widely, my mom gives me a kiss on the cheek and hooks her arm through mine. They escort us into the tent, where we’re swarmed by aunts, uncles, cousins and family friends, including, I realize all at once, Jordan’s parents.

  My stomach drops to my feet, and I release Honey’s hand. I’m not sure why I do that, but it doesn’t feel right to hold hands with another woman in front of them.

  They come over to greet me with hugs, smiling as they always do. Never once have they made me feel responsible for the loss that shattered us all. Rather, they’ve continued to treat me like a member of their family, and I’ve never been more humbled by that than I am right now.

  Mrs. Pullman gives Honey a hug. “It’s so nice to see you, Honey. It’s been too long.”

  “Yes, it has.” Honey returns her warm embrace, but I hear the emotion in her voice. She gets how hard this is for me, and I love her for that.

  “It’s so nice to see you both,” Mr. Pullman says.

  “And to see you smiling, Blake,” Mrs. Pullman adds. “That’s the nicest thing of all.”

  “Thank you,” I say softly, humbled by their unwavering support of me, even when I feel I don’t deserve it.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Mom says. “This calls for a celebration. Mike, let’s get out that champagne we brought and toast to happy new beginnings.”

  I glance at Honey and notice her smile as well as the bright shine in her eyes.

  My family loves Honey and me together, and so do Jordan’s parents. I reach for Honey’s hand and hold on tight to my love. Honey’s Gran was right when she said we can’t change the past. We can only live for the present, and my present is pretty damned sweet with her by my side.

  At the end of our second month together, Blake talks me into taking a week off, and we drive ten hours to South Padre Island, south of Corpus Christi. I’ve never been here before and fall instantly in love with the beach, the palm trees and the relaxed vibe. It’s here that I find out how much he loves to fish, and he patiently teaches me to enjoy it, too.

  He planned the whole getaway, right down to the resort with the spa where he booked me a massage that I thoroughly enjoy.

  I can’t remember the last time I took a vacation of any kind, and it’ll take a lot to top this one. We spend days in the sun, nights in bed and sleep in every morning before ordering room-service breakfast.

  “I never want to go home,” I tell him on our last morning.

  “We can come back any time you want.”

  “Any time?”

  “Any.” He kisses me. “Time.” He kisses me again and drops something onto my chest before he pulls back.

  It’s a small black velvet box. I stare at it like it’s dynamite.

  “Open it,” he says, clearly amused by my reaction.

  “I… What…”

  “Open it, Honey-do list.”

  My hands are shaking so hard, I can barely get them to cooperate as I fumble the box open to reveal a stunning diamond solitaire. “Blake…” His name escapes from my lips on a long sigh. I did not see this coming. Not yet anyway.

  He takes it from me and removes the ring from the box. “I love you, Honey Carmichael. I want to spend every day for the rest of my life the same way we’ve spent the last two months—together. We’ve known each other all our lives, so it’s not like we’re rushing into anything.” He takes my left hand and kisses the back of it before sliding the ring onto my finger. “You brought me back to life with six little words in a bar, and now, I’m asking you to be my wife. Will you marry me, Honey?”

  I’m completely blinded by tears and seem to have lost the ability to speak. All I can do is stare at the incredible ring he chose for me.

  “Honey pot? You might want to say something here. I’m sort of dying.”

  “Yes, Blake, yes. I’ll marry you. I love—”

  I don’t get to finish my sentence, because he’s kissing me so fiercely. We roll across the bed and only stop when he’s settled on top of me. He gazes down at me, his heart in his
eyes. “Did you really say yes?”

  “Did you really ask me to marry you?”

  We both say, “Yes.”

  “Are you happy, Honey?”

  “Do you really have to ask?” The question has become one of our favorite refrains, and he smiles in acknowledgment.

  He cups my face and strokes my cheek with his thumb. “I never thought I could be this happy again.”

  Hearing him say he’s happy is wonderful, but experiencing his happiness through frequent smiles, jokes and laughter is even more rewarding. “I brought a surprise for you, too,” I tell him.

  “Ohh, what is it?”

  “Let me up, and I’ll get it.”

  He kisses me and lets me out of bed.

  I go into the closet to retrieve the item I brought from home, hoping we’d get the chance to re-create a significant moment in our relationship, this time when we’re both sober. The light streaming in through the window reflects off my ring, and my heart gives a happy lurch. I can’t wait to tell Lauren, Julie, Scarlett and everyone at home that we’re engaged. I so wish I could tell my Gran, too, but I suspect she probably knows.

  “Where’d you go?” he calls from the bedroom.

  “Coming!” I try not to think about the last time we did this and how much it hurt. I suspect it’ll be better this time when we’re both aware of what’s happening. I return to the bedroom and get back into bed.

  “Where’s this surprise I was promised?”

  I open my hand to reveal the tube of lubricant I took from his bedside table. I watch with satisfaction as his eyes go dark with desire.

  “Honey…”

  “I don’t like that I remember it and you don’t. I thought maybe we could fix that.”

  “You… you want to?”

  “If you do.”

  His eyes roll back in his head dramatically. “If I want to,” he says on a snort. “Fucking hell, have you met me?”

  “I’ve met you and I love you and I trust you and I’m going to marry you, and I want to have this memory that we both share.”

  He caresses my face in that tender way of his that tells me how much he loves me. “I’ll never forgive myself for that night.”