by Sarina Bowen
I lost my train of thought when one of his hands tugged my jaw aside so he could kiss the other side of my neck, while his other hand tagged my hip. He yanked me roughly against his body and then groaned as we connected.
The needy sound echoed through my body. I gripped his rock-hard biceps and kissed the skin beneath his ear. He smelled like fresh air and eager man.
And he’d been right. This was exactly what I needed tonight.
Dave slowed down, teasing me with a single touch of his tongue to my ear. His hand squeezed my ass, slow and dirty. And when I inhaled with surprise, that’s when he kissed me for real. His mouth slid over mine, his lips confident and firm. I opened to him immediately, and when his tongue met mine, our heartbeats clicked into sync. As if I’d known him for years.
Finally my critical mind fell silent. Everything went quiet, except for the sweet sounds of lips and tongues. Kissing had always been a language I understood. With deep, dark kisses he drew me in further, until I was pancaked against his incredible chest, panting into his mouth. He tasted me again and again, our kisses bottomless.
I’ve got you now, his body told mine. You can let go. His strong arms held me like a scaffold, not a cage. I leaned into all that strength, and he encouraged me with a happy moan from deep inside his chest.
At some point the room spun around. My back hit the surface of the bed. A second later he was straddling my thighs, looking down at me. “You don’t need this anymore,” he said, tugging my top up to expose my belly. And as I grabbed the fabric and pulled it over my head, he groaned, because I’d been wearing a top with built-in support, and no bra.
Baring my meager bust to someone I didn’t know should have felt weird. But his look of eager joy steadied me. He bent over to begin dropping kisses on the swells of my breasts. I let my hands sift through the soft strands of his autumn-colored hair, and I shivered when his lips closed around my nipple and began to suck.
“You like that, don’t you?” he muttered.
So much. But I didn’t say that out loud. I’d always been a very sexual person—more easily aroused than women were supposed to be. And I’d been teased for it my entire life. Slutty Zara.
But nobody would ever have to know about my adventures tonight.
Dave’s hands and mouth were everywhere at once, tonguing my nipples and tweaking them, kissing the underside of my jaw. “See?” he grunted. “I know what you like.”
No kidding. My hands trailed down his neck to his muscular back. And when he hitched himself a little higher to kiss me again, I moaned as he fit his hips against mine, and I arched to meet him.
Things were escalating fast. I sank into the mattress, submitting to sensation over logic. He tasted of beer and temptation, and those were my two favorite flavors.
Examining his powerful body became my new hobby. His broad shoulders were deliciously freckled. I kissed my way across one of them and bit his neck.
“Naughty girl,” he rasped into my ear. “I have other uses for that mouth of yours.”
“Do you now?” I challenged, my hands sliding down his chest, my fingers sifting through the fine hairs of his chestnut-colored happy trail.
“Unzip me,” he ordered.
With shaking hands, I did. The sound of his zipper opening ratcheted my blood pressure up a notch. It had been far too long since I’d had sex.
“Keep going,” he growled.
I shoved the fabric down, and the boxers, too. An ambitious erection sprang free. He was long and rosy-hued and leaking for me. Whoa. And he was a redhead everywhere. My mouth watered with anticipation.
A big hand palmed the back of my head. He wrapped his hand with my hair, and tugged me toward his body. The grip was firm and steady. “Suck me, honey.”
I did. Immediately and shamelessly. As I took his salty sweetness into my mouth, he was heavy on my tongue.
“Aw, fuck,” he said, his voice raw. “Good girl.” The praise lit me right up. I gave him a good, hard suck and heard his breath hitch. “Jesus.” He put a hand under my chin and stopped me. I looked up with wide eyes to see his pupils blown and his face red. He smiled at me. “Off with those jeans.”
I released him. But I didn’t move fast enough for his taste. He pushed me down on the bed again and reached for my zipper. I wriggled out of my clothes, kicking off the shoes that were still clinging to my feet.
And then I was naked with a perfect stranger named Dave.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’re stunning.”
Or just stunned, maybe. Because, holy hell, his body was not to be believed. There was a naked superhero on my bed. Impressive abs led down to the deep V of muscle between his hips. He had powerful thighs, and when I ran a hand over one of them, the wiry hair on his quads tickled my palm.
Impatient, Dave rolled toward me, interrupting my train of thought with another mind-melting kiss. But now his hands free-ranged over my naked body. One callused thumb gripped my hip and then squeezed, showing me just how strong he was. Instead of scaring me, the treatment made me moan into his mouth.
I liked to be manhandled, and somehow he knew that. Or maybe it was just a lucky guess.
We rolled around, kissing, as I tried to kick the last of his clothing off the edge of the mattress. He grabbed his jeans and drew his wallet out of the back pocket.
“I have fresh condoms,” I whispered. “If that one’s been in your wallet for too long…”
“Put it in there today.” He grinned at me. “I had big plans for you.”
Good lord, the ego on this man. “And what if I said no?” I grabbed his chin and held him. We regarded each other for a long moment. He wore a feral expression, but he didn’t shake off my grasp, even though we both knew he could.
“Then you would have missed out,” he rasped. “Now shut up and let me demonstrate.”
Maybe I should have been offended. I’d thrown all my principles to the wind tonight. But none of it mattered as he spread his naked body over mine and kissed me again. He had a bossy tongue and questing hands. His erection was a hot brand against my stomach.
I expected such an overconfident man to move things right along, but that’s not what happened. His brand of cocky was the teasing, torturous kind. Thick fingers eased between my legs, sliding over my clit until I was achy and slick. I was close to climaxing. But when I sucked on his tongue, he moaned and sat up.
The crinkle of the condom packet made me sigh with relief. My limbs fell heavily onto the comforter as I waited, anticipating the main course.
So what did that bastard do? He leaned over me and took my nipple between his lips, rolling it until I wanted to scream.
“D-Dave,” I tried, my hips writhing on the bed. I reached down his body, seeking my prize.
But he batted my hand away. “No you don’t. Not until I say so.” He switched to my other tit, his mouth burning my tender skin with its pleasant torture.
Frustrated, I pushed his head off my boob.
He responded by grabbing my hands and pinning them to the bed. He moved up my body, poised over me, looking down at me from inches away. “Is there a problem here?”
“Seriously?”
“Did you forget the rules? On the stairs, I was very clear about who was in charge tonight.”
I blinked.
“Now when I let go of you, I want you to roll over,” he demanded, not releasing my hands. “On your hands and knees. Got it?”
My breath came in gasps, but I nodded.
He let go of my hands and I quickly rolled over onto my forearms.
“Up. On all fours.”
“You are such a pain in my ass,” I panted, just to retain my equilibrium.
That’s when the sound of a slap rang out, and my left buttock begin to sting. “That’s a pain in your ass.”
Did he really just spank me? Stunned, I turned my head to look at him.
He smirked at me, then cupped a hand around his ear. “I still don’t hear you calling a time out. So get over here
.” He took my hips in two hands and tugged my body backward. I felt myself slide along the cotton fabric, and the loss of control was startling.
His large palm began to rub the skin he’d just spanked. I felt heat and friction and shock wherever he touched. And when he spoke again, his voice was remarkably gentle. “Don’t worry, beautiful. You’ll get what you need.”
I waited, holding myself up on shaking hands. This was already the strangest sexual encounter of my life. Someday when I was old and gray I’d think back to it and wonder, Did that really happen?
Behind me, Dave made an achy, needy sound. I trembled as the blunt head of his cock eased between my legs, teasing me. I held my breath and closed my eyes. And then he finally pushed inside, filling me completely. There was a pause, and then he pushed again, adding even more of himself, even as I quivered and threatened to shatter. I bit down on my lip hard enough to draw blood, but the pain wasn’t sufficient to stave off my first orgasm. I opened my mouth in a silent cry as waves of pleasure overtook me.
I didn’t make a sound, though. There was no need to advertise his power over me.
“Damn.” Dave let out a shuddering breath. “Wow.” He knew, that bastard. He pressed a kiss against my shoulder. “You sexy thing. Aren’t you glad you invited me upstairs?”
“Getting there,” I lied. Then I filled my lungs with air, trying to calm down a little. Some men thought it was freaky the way my body responded so quickly. “Do you always talk this much when you’re naked?” I asked, just to be a pain.
“No.” He chuckled. “You make me crazy.” Then he thrust even deeper, rocking me forward. I bit my lip again to keep from moaning. “I don’t know why,” he panted. “You just do.”
He gave another slow pump of his hips, and I couldn’t hold back my gasp of pleasure. I let my head fall to the pillow and just took him in. With another chuckle he nudged my ankles even farther apart. I was completely at his mercy.
This was the best I’d felt in months.
“That’s right,” he whispered in my ear. “Just like that.” He gave it to me deep and slow. I pushed my face against my pillowcase and took stock of all the places my body hummed. My overly sensitive nipples were erect and brushing against the sheet. I felt the heavy swing of his balls against my body.
God, it was beautiful. I felt my pleasure building again. All it took was a moment’s concentration—I drew my awareness to the press of his cock inside me. I steadied myself against the bed and let it happen. This time, I didn’t hide it. I moaned softly as my body tightened around his.
“Fuck yeah,” he said, picking up the pace. “So beautiful.”
He pumped his hips a few times then slapped my hip and ordered me to roll onto my back. Drunk on pleasure, I did as he asked.
The view improved. He took both my knees in his hands and pushed inside. I looked up at his incredible body as he put it in high gear. Hips pumping, chest flexing. I squeezed his trim hips with my knees to encourage him.
He looked down at me with lust-filled eyes. “One more, gorgeous. Give me one more.” With a wicked grin he reached down to finger our connection.
I threw my head back and came for the third time.
Roaring with satisfaction, he followed me over the cliff.
Chapter Four
Dave
Holy. Shit.
I lay there, limbs heavy, as tired as if I’d just skated a game straight through double overtime. My thoughts were sluggish, liquid things. We’d collapsed side by side on Zara’s bed, but I wasn’t ready to let her go. In an uncharacteristic maneuver for me, I reached for her and pulled her onto my chest.
She was breathing hard, her head on my arm.
“Does that always happen for you?” I panted. “Or should I be inducted into your personal hall of fame?”
She laughed without bothering to open her eyes. “You want the truth?”
“Yeah. But go ahead and lie a little if it sounds nicer.”
She squeezed my arm. “You’re hilarious. But the truth is that sex comes easily to me. Literally.”
I chuckled. “So you’re saying I’m not special?”
She turned her head and gave me a warmer smile than I’d gotten from her yet. “Are you fishing for compliments?”
“No.” I gave her a playful pinch on her beautiful ass. “Some people can catch a football. Some people can play the piano. But you can have three orgasms on a Friday night without breathing hard.”
“I’m breathing hard.”
This girl. She killed me. I’d had a lot of sex with strangers. That was pretty much the only kind I ever had. Sometimes it was good, and sometimes it was really fucking awkward.
But not tonight. Tonight it was great. Zara and I just clicked somehow on a higher level. I wasn’t done with her yet, either. But first I needed a rest. I wasn’t a teenager anymore.
I lay quietly, listening to our pounding hearts. A lovely calm washed over me, courtesy of endorphins, a beautiful girl, and an irresistible summer night. I became aware of a cheeping sound in the breeze coming through Zara’s window. It was the summery, lifelike sound of nature, the kind we never had in Brooklyn.
“What kind of birds sing at night?” I croaked, my voice as tired as the rest of me.
Zara gave a little snort of laughter against my skin. “Birds don’t sing at night. What you’re hearing are frogs.”
“Frogs? Like, the kind that hop through ponds?”
“Is there another kind of frog?”
For some reason this struck me as hilarious. And when I laughed, she did, too.
“City boy, much?” she asked.
“Yeah. Brooklyn. But I grew up…”
Her hand moved so fast that the woman would have made a decent goalie. She covered my mouth with her slim palm. “No personal stuff.”
“Why?” I asked after pushing her hand off my lips.
She shook her head. “This is just about sex. Don’t wreck it.”
Hmm. “Is this about the bearded guy tonight? Your ex?”
She turned her face away. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Nobody had ever accused me of being smooth with people’s emotions.
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “None of my business.”
“It really isn’t,” she agreed.
“More for me, then.”
She huffed out a laugh and gave me a friendly smack on the thigh. “Come on. I have to be up early,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’d better go.”
“Um…” Honest to God, it took my poor little brain a moment to figure out that she was kicking me out of her bed. WTF? said my ego. I was a professional athlete and accustomed to delivering all the eviction notices. “Okay. Is this because I brought up your ex?”
“Not hardly. It’s just late. I had a fun time.”
Well, ouch. Those were words I’d said on more than one occasion when I wanted to hurry out of some woman’s bed. It’s just that I’d never heard them before, myself.
I sat up. “Lucky for you, we can have a fun time again later in the week. You work every weeknight?”
She turned her head and studied me. Those coal-black eyes were more critical than I was used to seeing from women.
Staring back at Zara was really no hardship, though. She was as pretty as the day is long. And I found myself noticing things about her that I don’t usually bother to notice. The length of her neck. The way her tanned skin passed over her regal-looking collar bone. Her nipples were dark against small, perfect breasts.
“I work most nights,” she said eventually. “I manage the bar for my uncle.”
“Right,” I said, having already figured that out. “So I’ll come by on Wednesday or Thursday.”
“Maybe I won’t feel like hanging out after work,” she said. But her eyes made a trip down my chest.
“Maybe you will, though,” I said cheerfully. This was more fun than I’d had in months. She made me work for it. Nobody ever did that. Not since I was a poor rookie in the minors. And ofte
n not even then.
“We’ll see,” she said. But her gaze was soft and lazy.
I leaned over and kissed her nose. “You’re fun to talk to. You know that?”
“Talk, huh?” She gave me a slightly embarrassed smile.
“Yeah. And other stuff, too.” I winked, and she actually blushed. A little, anyway.
Then, for the first time in my life, I got out of bed with a woman before I was ready. I put on my clothes while she watched.
“Don’t get up,” I said. It was a joke because she didn’t look like someone who was about to escort me to the door.
“Goodbye, Dave,” she said softly.
“See you in a few days,” I reminded her, and she just shook her head.
Then I let myself out into the Vermont summer night, where frogs were singing their strange song.
Chapter Five
Zara
Damn you, Dave Barrier. Or Carrier? Whatever your name was, get out of my brain.
It was Tuesday night, and I was working behind the bar. Like always. But thoughts of his wolfish grin kept invading my mind.
I’d indulged in our tryst because I’d imagined we’d never see each other again. And everything about the encounter had been thrilling and perfect—right up until he’d uttered that nonsense about coming back again.
And now my stupid little heart was waiting for him. I kept glancing at the door every time it opened, wondering if he’d walk through it.
God. Damn. It.
Like every girl, one of my life goals was to avoid becoming my mother. And while my mom had many admirable traits, she’d spent decades of her life just like this—waiting for a man to walk through the door. She’d had five kids with my father—a guy who showed up in town when he felt like it and then disappeared for months at a time.
My mother had never given up on him, though. Never asked for a divorce. Never stopped hoping he’d show up and tell us we meant the world to him.
Spoiler alert: he never did.
So every time I found myself watching the door for a man, I wanted to kick myself. I knew from experience that men had very short attention spans when it came to women. When Dave had said, “I’ll see you next week,” what I’d heard was, “Thanks for the good time.”