by Marie Jermy
He duly obliged and was rewarded a second later with her climax. He continued to finger her, only slower, easing her down until her pussy muscles relaxed. She opened her eyes and gave him a satisfied smile. He winked, and kissing her lightly on her curved lips, he then turned his attention to her sweet tits, licking the soft, warm flesh and sucking on the hardened nipples.
Much to Matt’s relief when his fingers fucked her juicy pussy all over again, Darcy’s guttural cries of pleasure drowned out his hammering heart.
Chapter 5
Eyes closed, Darcy cried out and felt herself go boneless. Three times Matt had now fucked her with his thick fingers, and three times her orgasm had totally blown her mind. Wow, if his fingers were this skillful, what the fuck would his cock be like? She’d like to find out, but they had no condoms, and she wasn’t protected any other way. She tamped down her disappointment and opened her eyes.
Matt was braced on one elbow above her, grinning like the Cheshire cat. The pressing of his hard cock to her inner thigh reminded her of her promise of a blow job. “Your turn.”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to.”
“I wanna. And I’m gonna.” He withdrew his fingers, slowly dragging them up her drenched slit. Once his fingers were free of her panties, he licked her pussy juice from them. She pouted. “I wanted to do that. But I suppose I’ll have to make do with your cum,” she decided at his arched brow. “Lay on your back, Matt.”
They swiftly changed positions, and Darcy made herself comfortable straddling Matt’s thighs. She unfastened his shorts and tugged them as well as his black briefs down until his cock sprang free. Cum already glistened in the slit of the bulbous head. She smoothed her fingers down the thick, hard length, retracting his foreskin, and his cum oozed over. She licked her lips and then put her tongue to the fluid and lapped up its earthiness.
Matt leveled his desire-darkened, sky-blue eyes at her, and a groan sounded deep in the back of his throat when her mouth slithered down and up the rigid shaft, her tongue stroking the satiny flesh. He tasted so good, like a man should. His hands cradled her head, his fingers delving through the frizz. Using one hand, she fondled his heavy balls, loving the sound of his moans. Holding the base of his shaft, she took his cock farther into her mouth and suckled strongly.
His fingers tightened on her hair. “Fuck, Darcy. That’s fucking good. Are you gonna swallow my load?”
She bobbed her head up and down in reply. Then in a bold move, she peeled back her lips and scraped her teeth down his rigid, thick length. He hissed and jerked his hips upward, his cock head hitting her tonsils. Note to oneself. Matt likes lips, tongue, and teeth. She wondered if he’d enjoy a finger on his prostate. By the sound of his moans, signaling his impending orgasm as she massaged his balls and sucked his cock down her throat, however, that was a question that would have to wait until another time.
“Fuck, Darcy! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna shoot.”
Matt broke eye contact when his upper body arched and he pressed his shoulders into the towel. The veins in his neck that were on show from his open-necked polo shirt strained, and a pleasure-loaded shout flew from his mouth. A second later, his cum splashed hot and hard in her throat. Darcy swallowed and milked him dry, loving the feeling of power she held over him as he twitched beneath her.
His blue-eyed gaze was back on her. She gave him one final lick, then returned his softening cock to his briefs and refastened his shorts. “Wow, Matt, you blew hard. You had such a load.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Don’t be. I loved it. You’ve got very tasty cum.”
“That’s good to know. I could get used to feeding you with my prick.”
She laughed and bent down to kiss him. She kept her eyes open so to gauge his reaction to the taste of his cum in her mouth. Apart from the fractional widening of his eyes, he displayed no other reaction. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it because he deepened the kiss and explored every inch of her mouth with his tongue. Finally, she ran out of breath and moved into a sitting position beside him. “What now?”
His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. Though she’d been truthful in telling Matt he had tasty cum, her mouth felt a little dry, so Darcy pulled his backpack toward her and removed one of the bottles of water. She uttered a muted sigh as the still-cool liquid splashed down her throat and then promptly choked on it when Matt stood up and pulled his polo shirt up and over his head. She looked at the bottle and then at Matt, and instantly decided no amount of water would lessen her thirst or ease her sandpapery throat.
Bisected by his sternum, Matt’s upper chest was like two shields of polished bronze, and his six-pack abs narrowed into an equally rock-hard, trim waist. Not one single hair sprouted from the expanse of smooth, muscle-packed flesh. There were no tattoos either, which was good because she wasn’t a fan of them. His nipples were like disks of milk chocolate. Mmm, she was so going to enjoy licking and touching this delicious and perfect specimen of man.
Matt bent down. “Well, it’s a bit early for lunch,” he said, rummaging through the backpack and taking out the sunblock. “I could show you the variety of fishes that live in the Beaverhead River.”
She took a sip of water and miraculously her tongue fell from the roof of her mouth where it had stuck fast. “You don’t have a license,” she reminded him. Screwing the cap back on, she placed the bottle onto the towel.
“I said show you the fishes, not fish for them.”
“Okay. How are you gonna do that without a rod?”
“Put some of this on me, and you’ll find out.” The sunblock landed in her lap. “You should wear sunblock, too, Darcy. It doesn’t matter how dark your skin is, the sun can still do a lot of damage. Skin cancer is serious. Or didn’t your parents tell you that?”
She snorted. “Cancer would have been the least of my worries with parents like mine.” She smacked a hand over her mouth and immediately wished she could take those words back. The subject of her parents was not one Darcy liked to discuss with anybody. Only Danny Ferris knew the full story, and his promise not to tell was ironclad. She stole a glance at Matt. He was studying her, a frown dipping his brows.
He dropped down to kneel before her. “What’d they do to you?” His tone was as tender as the hand he used to take her own hand away from her mouth and then press both her hands between his palms. His fingers twined through hers.
Inexplicitly, moisture burned at the back of her eyelids. It had been an eternity since she’d spared her parents any sort of emotion. How they had treated her for most of her life, they didn’t deserve anything, least of all her tears. She shrugged and adopted her usual cool manner, but Matt wasn’t having any of it.
“Don’t shrug it off, Darcy. It’s important to you, so I wanna know. I won’t judge you.”
The second the words were out of Matt’s mouth, Darcy knew why she had the urge to throw herself into his arms and blub her eyes out. It had nothing to do with her parents, it was because Matt cared. He was interested because he thought of himself as a friend. She had to admit, she was beginning to think of him as a friend, too. It was like he’d said, he wouldn’t judge her if she told him. He would understand. And if she didn’t supply, she thought she knew him enough not to pry.
“My parents were lazy deadbeats,” she began, deciding to take a chance. “They treated me more like a servant than a daughter. While they lazed about in bed or on the couch, I did the housework. Cooking, cleaning.”
“Did they hit you?”
She nodded. “Sometimes. Locked me in the cellar, too. If I ever talked back to them or did something that wasn’t right, such as miss a spot when mopping floors, I’d pay the price. They caught me taking cookies from the cupboard once because I was hungry. I didn’t have any food for a week. Of course, this was all behind closed doors. Outside, they were as nice as pie. Neighbors and friends never saw the bruises because they marked me where you couldn’t see.
“I was happy at school because I
was out from under their control. I was good, too, and worked hard. Got brilliant grades. Not that my parents ever were bothered. Just as long as I looked after them and the house when I was there, that was all that mattered. Things improved, of course, when I went to university, but I was only really free of them when they died. First Mom with cirrhosis of the liver, and then Dad of a heart attack. I danced on their graves after everybody had gone.”
“I bet you did.” Matt brought her hands up to his mouth and gave each finger a little kiss. “I think Rex had a harsh upbringing, too.”
“And what about you?”
“The best. Which is probably not what you want to hear. I’m sorry, Darcy.”
“What for? It’s not your fault. Like I said, I’m free now. I can do what I want, when I want.”
“Mmm. And if I ask you to clean my floor, you’d probably stick the mop where the sun doesn’t shine.”
Darcy laughed. “And the bucket, too!” Matt joined in with her laughter. He then fell silent as he eyed the sunblock. She knew exactly what he was thinking. “Rubbing sunblock on you, Matt,” she said, picking up the bottle and waving it in front of his face, “is not a chore. I fully intend on enjoying myself and driving you crazy.”
Grinning, he hauled her to her feet and spread his arms out wide. “Knock yourself out.”
“Cocky.” She flipped the lid and squirted an extra-large dollop of cream into her palm. She passed him the bottle. “Hold this for me.” She pressed her palms together, smearing the cream, and then slapped both dead center of his chest, working the gorgeous flesh in circular movements first down to his waistband and then up to his shoulders. Once finished, she playfully flicked at his flat nipples with her fingernails. She relished the sight of them developing into raised milk-chocolate pearls. Another note to oneself. Matt likes nipple play.
“Hey, you’re meant to be rubbing, not flicking.”
She returned his smirk. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll give you a massage that’ll make you hum with pleasure.”
“Promises, promises.”
Darcy grinned and repeated the process with his arms only in smaller circles and careful with not getting his nice, expensive Omega watch covered with the sunblock. She then asked him to turn around. His back was another solid shield of smooth bronze bisected by a most masculine spine. “Bottle, please,” she sighed. She chose to ignore his chuckle. With another extra-large dollop of cream, she gave him the bottle to hold and set to work on his back.
Her hands glided up and down spreading the lotion, her fingers paying particular attention to his shoulders, rotating in firm circles to ease the little knots of tension that they held. She finished with pressing her thumbs in between the discs of his spine. Matt uttered something. Darcy smiled. “Sorry, Matt, what was that? Did you say something? Or was that a hum?”
“Oh, that was a hum, all right,” he rasped. He released another hum. “That was good.”
“It would have been better if you were lying down.”
He turned to her and winked. “Next time.”
“Next time,” she promised. Matt went to return the favor and rub sunblock on her arms, but she took the bottle from him and did it herself. He didn’t complain too much only to say she had beautiful arms. She smiled. “All the better to hold you with.”
“And I like your arms holding me.”
Matt then seemed to take a metaphorical step back as if he’d realized his words were too emotional. Which in a way they were, because wasn’t this just about a hot fuck? Wasn’t Matt a “fuck-’em-and-forget-’em” kind of guy? But something was happening between them, and Darcy had to admit she didn’t want to stop whatever it was from happening. She genuinely liked Matt and his sarcastic sense of humor. Then again, Kurt had the same humor, and look how that had turned out. She shook her head. No, Matt was a million miles away from Kurt. He was a good cop and had more decency and integrity in the tip of his pinkie than Kurt had in his whole damned body.
Noticing Matt was studying her, Darcy smiled and linked one hand with his. “So, these fishes. How are you gonna show ’em to me?”
He stooped to pick up the towel. “Come with me and all shall be revealed.”
Hand in hand, they walked along the stream in an easterly direction. “Is our stuff okay here? And the bikes?”
“Don’t worry, they’ll be fine.”
“And I s’pose nobody messes with you. Being a big, tough cop an’ all.” She laughed.
“Darcy, what’s your problem with cops?”
Her laughter died in her throat. Then again, she should have remembered Matt was smart. He’d probably guessed about her mistrust from her body language and her alternating hot and cool way with him. For the second time that morning, she decided to share, albeit briefly as some parts still hurt. “Um, my ex, Kurt Forrester, was a cop. He treated me badly. End of.”
Matt didn’t press her any further. They cleared the pine trees and walked the short distance through the arid grass to where the stream joined the Beaverhead River. Without the shade of the trees, the heat from the sun was merciless. Matt dropped the towel on the bank. “Wish I brought a sun hat,” she said, following Matt’s lead when he rolled his shorts up and removed his socks and boots. She then took his hand, and he guided her into the river, chuckling loudly at the happy squeal she uttered at the coolness of the water rising up her legs.
When the water was about two inches below the top of her rolled-up shorts, he anchored her body in the twirling waters by standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.
“Now stay very still and quiet,” he told her low in her ear. “And don’t worry, the fish don’t bite.”
She snickered, wondering if Matt was joshing her about showing her fishes this way. But then after a couple of minutes of standing like statues, Darcy was rewarded when a fish about the length of her forearm and with golden flanks, a red horizontal band along its body, and dark, vertical, oval spots swam back and forth by her left thigh. She bit on her bottom lip and resisted the urge to bolt because he looked a mean son of a bitch.
“That’s a golden trout,” Matt informed her in a low voice. “See those dark vertical marks? They’re called parr marks.” More of the same fish and size swam around them. “Nice size. Those two fishermen we passed should have a good catch.”
Darcy nodded and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief when the mean-looking trout lost interest in her thigh and moved away. “Will they return them to the river?” she asked, forgetting to whisper, and the rest of the fish immediately bolted.
“Yes.” He chuckled. Then in a serious tone, he said, “Darcy, I’m a cop you can trust.”
Darcy leaned back into Matt’s hot, muscle-packed body and knew he was right.
* * * *
Matt wiped the condensation from the bathroom cabinet mirror and stared at his reflection. Though his hair was plastered to his forehead from his recent shower, he didn’t look any different. His eyes were still sky-blue. His nose was still straight. Darkened with a five o’clock shadow, his jaw was still square. Everything was the same as it was the last time he looked in the mirror that morning, but something inside him felt different.
He didn’t know what the fuzzy, warm feeling in his chest meant, but gut instinct told him Darcy had been instrumental in putting it there. Thank God his heart had stopped doing its jackhammer impression, though he knew that would change the moment he met up with Darcy again. She could be buttoned up to the neck in some old-fashioned dress and wearing a padlocked chastity belt made of iron, and he’d still think she’d be the hottest, sexiest woman alive.
Matt grabbed another towel from the chrome rack on the wall and roughly dried his hair. He finger combed it into its usual tousled style and then wet shaved. When he’d finished, he patted his face with his favorite cologne and cleaned and flossed his teeth. Throwing the towels over the shower rail to dry, he left the bathroom and padded across the landing to his bedroom.
On the bed lay his freshly p
ressed police uniform. He smiled. On that score, Darcy was a contradiction. She had problems with cops, but not their attire. When he’d left Darcy earlier at the Slumberland, he’d thought about popping into the station and running a check on Kurt Forrester, but had decided against it. He didn’t want to lose the trust he’d gained from Darcy by going behind her back as such in order to learn more. If Darcy wished to expand on her brief story of Forrester, then that was up to her. And if she didn’t, then that was okay, too, because it wasn’t as though Darcy was a long-term affair.
As he opened his underwear and sock drawer, Matt felt a pang in his chest at the thought of Darcy being short term. He’d only met her the day before, but already she felt like a big part of his life. She’d even met his father. No doubt his mother now knew about Darcy and was chomping at the bit to meet her herself. He could well imagine what his father had told his mother.
He puffed out his chest, impersonating his father. “Jess, honey, it’s time to set another place at the table. Matt’s getting married.” Balancing on his left foot and then his right, he put his socks on and muttered, “Ah, crap. Am I in trouble.”
What with his brother Ross and Jessica Ferris already engaged, Mona and Rex Latimer seemingly halfway down the aisle, too, and Sammy and Dan Ferris happily fucking each other in Tinseltown and no doubt also making wedding plans, his parents had decided he was next on their matchmaking list.
Actually, and with a grimace, he realized he was the only one left on that list, and that concerned him somewhat. Some people would call him cynical when it came to the subject of romance. He’d disagree and say he was practical. Unlike the rest of his siblings, including Mona, who had totally shocked him because she was just as cynical as he, he wasn’t ready for marriage. In his opinion, he was too young.
“Never say never, little bro. I guarantee you’ll feel the same way I do when the right woman comes your way.”