So Wicked

Home > Other > So Wicked > Page 14
So Wicked Page 14

by Melissa Marino


  My thoughts began to take over how good he was making me feel. My breathing began to slow, my body movements halting.

  “This is about me and you,” he said, clearly sensing my struggle. “And it’s no one else’s fucking business okay? You and me.”

  It was a given, but it allowed me to relax a bit more, knowing we were on the same page. He knew what was at stake, and for now we could keep it between us.

  “I’m not embarrassed or anything,” he said. “It’s…”

  He had the same concerns I did. Of course he did. I knew his devotion to Aaron. They were practically brothers.

  “Trust me,” he whispered, his tone bordering on pleading.

  His eyes searched mine, and all the answers, all the reassurance I needed was right there.

  “Just shut up and go back to kissing me.”

  I took hold of the back of his hair, fisting it in both of my hands as I rotated my body into him. His hand moved from the front of my jeans to the button at the top. With rapid movement, he undid them and forced the zipper down, before slipping his hand inside.

  Inside my underwear.

  And his mouth was back on me, moaning against my own.

  With his opposite hand, he seized mine and placed it on the front of his own jeans.

  “Do you see, do you feel what you do to me?”

  He was so, so hard already.

  Chapter Eleven

  Marshall—

  She was so, so wet for me already.

  It wasn’t from the rain.

  It was from me.

  My finger slid against where she was so turned on for me, and it made my own erection grow. A lot. It was why I wanted her to feel it, to know how goddamn hard she had gotten me already.

  None of this was planned.

  It was nothing we sought out.

  It wasn’t anything we even wanted.

  Hell. I broke the utmost rule of bro code. It was my best friend’s former wife. I’d lay my fucking life down for Aaron, and here I was with her, unable to stop myself. Guilt began to creep in, and I wasn’t sure if I could continue.

  But I wanted her.

  I wanted to taste her skin and swallow her words. I wanted to undress her soul and erase the sadness from her heart.

  And I knew she was feeling similarly. I could tell by her hesitation at the exact time I did, and in that moment, I knew it was only her and me.

  How could you turn your back on a moment?

  Life was here, for the now, and I’d let enough moments pass by with regret. This one was too intense, too important, for me to walk away from. I wasn’t going to do that.

  She had gotten under my skin and embedded in my brain. There was no shaking her, no removing myself from what she was doing to me.

  The mental, fucking cosmic or some shit, connection was enough to drive me insane. That alone made me want to fucking devour her, but add in how stupid hot she was, how goddamn sexy she was, and I almost fucked her in the car.

  She was right, though. I had said I didn’t want to fuck her in a car, and I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want the cheapness of a backseat screw to dilute what I was feeling for her.

  But the way she moaned against my lips simultaneously with my own slid her hands up and across my chest, made me lose my will to apply my finer points of seduction. She had followed me not just to my car and here without question, but to this stage. She was trusting me.

  And the way she fucking tasted. I hadn’t even gotten to her pussy yet, and I wanted to drink her all in by only getting a sample from her skin.

  I stopped making out with her long enough to ask her one final question.

  My forehead rested against hers. “Are you sure?”

  Her hands ran against the side of my face, her fingertips digging into my beard. “Yes,” she mumbled. “Are you?”

  “Fuck yes,” I said.

  I took her hand and guided her to my bedroom, stepping away to get a good look at her all over. “You are so goddamn beautiful,” I said, bringing my hands to her damp shirt and lifting it above her head.

  Piece by piece, I stripped her down, our eyes never leaving each other. When I was finished, she did the same to my shirt, dropping it to the floor next to her pile of clothes. Her hand ran across my bruised rib with a frown. “I’ll be careful,” she whispered.

  She pressed her lips to mine, running her tongue along my bottom lip until I was pulling her hips against me. I took the opportunity to slide my hands around to her ass, palming it with both hands.

  Christ.

  She was all smooth and curves everywhere.

  Her hands slipped between us and unbuttoned the top of my jeans, sliding them down on my hips. She made use of the minimal space between us and slid her hand down inside my jeans. Once her fingers met my cock, I was done.

  Fucking. Done.

  My erection stood at full attention, waiting and begging for her to continue her touch. “You don’t have to be too careful,” I said with a wink.

  Her fingers trailed upward again, grazing across my skin, tracing the lines of my tattoos as she studied them. They all told a story, a lesson, and I wanted to tell her every one. Maybe it was the expression I was making, but it was like she read my mind.

  “Every one, Marshall. I want to know about every single one of them, and then I want to trace them each with my tongue, my fingers.”

  Fuck this girl. Like, fuck, in a good, amazing way, with the way she brought the sexy.

  The room was cast in darkness from the storm still raging outside. It made her features muted, softened in such a way that she seemed delicate.

  “Are you just going to stand there staring at me? Or are you going to fuck me, Marshall?” she asked.

  But true to form, she leveled me in one sentence, reminding me looks could be very fucking deceiving.

  “Get the fuck on my bed, gorgeous,” I said, pulling my jeans the rest of the way down before taking her by the hand.

  I backed up into the bed, dragging her down on top of me. We tumbled into a tangle, her giggling as her naked body met my almost naked one.

  The thunder rolled, both near and far, as our kisses deepened and she rotated her hips against me. I couldn’t wait to get inside her, to know every part of her body. I didn’t know if this would be our only time together, so I wanted to prolong it for as long as I could.

  Or at least until my hard-on held out.

  And judging by the way she was moaning against my lips and tugging at the top of my boxers, she wasn’t going to hold out much longer, either.

  She straddled my lap, flipping her hair over her shoulders, as she looked down at me.

  She kissed her way down my chest, pausing a moment to look up at me through her eyelashes. Her finger lowered the top of my boxers completely, my dick springing free to meet her.

  While still gazing at me, the tip of her tongue emerged from between her lips and met the top of my cock.

  And that alone almost made me fucking come.

  She hummed against me before bringing her mouth deeper and deeper. “Mmmm, Marshall,” she said, still with eyes tightly on mine.

  “Fuck,” I muttered. “You feel so good.”

  She scooted back, releasing me for a moment so she could slide the rest of my boxers off. Once she did and tossed them to the floor, she eased herself back up, carefully straddling my waist.

  “Is this okay?” she asked.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “No,” she giggled, moving her very wet pussy up and down my dick. “I was worried about your rib.”

  I lifted her by the waist, rolled her to the side and underneath me. “It’s fine. It was only bruised, but I’d break three ribs for the chance to fuck you,” I said, looking down at her.

  “That’s a mighty bold statement. Broken ribs for the chance to…fuck…me?”

  “I love the way you say fuck,” I said, rubbing the head of my cock against her opening. I brought my mouth down to her breasts, r
unning my tongue around the tip of her nipple.

  She started to squirm again, getting herself closer and closer to bringing me inside of her. It was good she wanted to wait, too, because I wasn’t sure how long I’d last. It had been a long, long time since I’d had sex, and this was a girl I’d wanted very, very badly.

  “It’s the rain,” she whispered. Her hands ran down the side of my beard before lacing her fingers behind my neck.

  My head turned away, reluctantly, from her tits. “The rain?”

  She nodded. “It does something to me. This kind does, the violent thunderstorms.”

  The fucking rain turned her on.

  Why did that turn me on knowing that?

  I reached above her head, above the headboard, and cracked the window a slight amount. It was enough to let the coolness of the front coming in to filter through, but not enough for the rain to get on us. Plus, it gave her a bit more of what she wanted.

  “How’s that?” I asked, moving my way back down, running my lips across the side of her jaw.

  My tongue. My kisses on the hollow of her neck.

  Down between her breasts, my hands all over them, my fingers rolling her nipples across my fingertips until my mouth replaced them.

  And she repeated my name over and over.

  And over.

  I ran my nose across and down her stomach.

  My lips on her hips.

  Down.

  Down.

  Down.

  One taste of her pussy and it was…extraordinary.

  And she liked it.

  A lot.

  Shout-outs to God, Jesus, and several other holy grails shit came from her mouth.

  So, I worked out how she liked it more and then added my finger in addition to my mouth.

  She came so hard against me her legs shook as she pulled my hair.

  “That,” she mumbled after. “Is perfect. That is how it is.”

  I kissed her just above her clit, smiling against her skin.

  “Now get inside me, Jones,” she said.

  “Awfully bossy in bed aren’t you, Bell?” I said, positioning myself above to give her what she asked for. “You could say please, you know?”

  “I’m always the boss, but I’m willing to give a little to have you give me what I want. So, please, Marshall, get inside me.”

  “Do you want me to put a condom on?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I have an IUD.”

  “Good girl,” I said, pushing myself into her, both of us gasping at how fucking good it was.

  It was as she said…perfect.

  Moving in and out of her as she gripped my shoulders, running her hands along my face, was sexy and…something else…all together. It made my heart beat faster.

  The chilling breeze traveling in, cooling off our sweaty bodies.

  I had to believe I was giving as much as I was getting, that the emptiness that echoed through my body, vibrated against my bones on the daily, was filling a part of her. It wasn’t just the fucking. We both could do that with anyone. It was this vibe, the insane energy, passing back and forth between us. I’d push deeper and deeper into her as her fingertips and her nails ran up and down my back, and I fucking knew this was something I’d never had before.

  Our eyes were closed, and then they were open. Moving above her, and then she above me, her long hair falling across her damp forehead, her breasts. Back and forth. Giving and taking.

  And when we came, it all seemed to fit. It all seemed to be right.

  It all made sense.

  It was like we’d said—her and I. Me and her. Just us.

  When we were done, she tucked herself into my side, and I was closer to her than when we were having sex.

  And that scared the fucking shit out of me.

  She was where she belonged.

  * * *

  The sun was streaming through the gaps in the curtains, the only hint that morning had come. We had spent the entire previous day in bed. There was sex, talking, food breaks and more sex. The outside world, the place where nothing made sense, was closed off to us. For that day, it was only about two people who couldn’t get enough of each other.

  Al’s body was wrapped up next to mine, warm and peaceful, in almost the same position as when we fell asleep. There was a slight chill in the air, but gratefully, I’d remembered to shut the window after our romp.

  I moved myself with a slight turn, rearranging my body to a more comfortable position. My side ached, my bruised rib taking a neglectful beating the night before.

  Did I give a fuck?

  No. Fucking. Way.

  Every moment was worth it.

  My fingers twirled around her hair as I watched her sleep. It was, I was, a damn cliché—a schmoopy, feeling-filled dumbass. I’d make fun of any dude who exhibited such a pathetic act. However, I didn’t care.

  She sighed against my bare chest, and that hint of a noise, similar to the ones she’d made the night before, brought my normal morning wood to full-on attention.

  I didn’t want to wake her, but I knew I’d have to soon. It was after seven a.m., and she was usually working the baked goods train by this time. Plus, if I waited much longer, she might be in such a rush to leave I’d have to take morning wood into my own hands.

  Please hurry and wake the fuck up, Al.

  My phone vibrated on the nightstand next to my bed, making a loud noise as it echoed across the wood surface. I snatched it up and looked at who was calling.

  Aaron.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I immediately wanted to take back my thoughts from moments ago about not giving a fuck. I did give a fuck…about him.

  An aching body was no match for the explosion of guilt that impaled my heart. Reality was calling me, and there was no hiding from it.

  I slid myself out from under Al as swiftly and carefully as possible before racing out of the room, but before I could answer, the call ended.

  “Son of a bitch,” I hissed at the phone, at him, and at me.

  My heart was pounding the beat of what seemed like a hundred drummers. Christ. Of all the moments, it was now he called?

  The phone began to buzz in my hand again, a picture of Aaron, Callie, and Delilah popping up on the front.

  I have to change that. If Al saw…I don’t know. I really didn’t know how she’d react. She hadn’t seen them in so long. I didn’t know if it would hurt her, upset her, or if she would even care at all. Any number of reactions gave me cause for concern.

  “Hey,” I answered, speaking in a low tone. “Two hours behind. Two fucking hours behind you.”

  “I know. I know. I’m sorry. It was Delilah,” Aaron said. “She had asked last night if she could call you. Callie said yes. She obviously didn’t mean at seven in the morning after snatching my phone when I wasn’t looking. Can you believe she’s asking for her own cell phone already? It’s ridiculous. Anyway, she’s leaving in a few for school, so I told her I’d call you back, apologize, and tell you she needs to talk to you later.”

  I made my way to the kitchen, the room furthest from the bedroom, so I could be as out of Al’s earshot as possible.

  “Everything okay?” I whispered.

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “She read a book, a fairly advanced one, too. It’s a level three in the series, which means it’s for independent readers, up to the fifth grade, but since Delilah is second grade, it’s pretty impressive that she read the whole thing. I don’t know if I ever told you, or if you knew, but a seven-year-old who won’t be eight until May is a young second grader, and for her to a read a book about—”

  “That’s great, Aaron,” I said, cutting him off. “Have her call me after school.”

  “She was just so excited about the Superman book she couldn’t wait to tell you, but I’ll have her call you later.”

  Superman.

  That sweet, sweet little superhero girl of mine.

  “Yes. Please do. I haven’t talked to my Nutter Butter in a
few weeks,” I said.

  “Everything else cool? Ginger still making its way up?”

  “For sure. Better than we could’ve imagined.”

  “Why are you whispering?” he asked. After a moment’s pause he let a loud laugh, followed by an “ahhhh.”

  “What?”

  “You have a girl there. Sorry to have interrupted the morning-after plans. I’ll let you get back to her, but I got to know. A one-nighter or a special one.”

  “A special one, I think.”

  “That makes me happy for you, man. For real. Okay, I gotta run. Talk soon.”

  The call ended, and I was glad I was leaning against my kitchen counter. My head was cloudy, my vision muted, from whatever the hell that call did to me. I made my way down the hallway, shaking it all out of me as I did.

  I stepped back into the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe. She was awake, her hair in a wavy mess across the front of her naked body, staring off in a different direction.

  The conflict in my heart, over the girl I had no doubt started to have feelings for in my bed and my best friend who I loved already, made my chest burn. Aaron’s trust in me. His loyalty. Delilah’s voice of unconditional love. Her innocence.

  They had been my saviors.

  Looking at Al, knowing what was happening, it was if she was gradually taking their place. I couldn’t think it terms of logic, what I believed to be right and wrong, because as she slipped into her purpose in my life, there was no way to rationalize it.

  I couldn’t choose between them.

  It was too fucking late.

  “Who were you talking to?” she asked, her voice shrouded in sleep.

  There were always choices.

  The heart always won.

  That fucked-up, delusional heart.

  “No one,” I responded. “It was…no one.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Alexis—

  Where the hell have you been?” Phoebe screamed as I pulled up into the driveway. She came barreling out of the house so fast my screen door hit the side of the house.

  Where have I been? Where have I been? Where have I been?

 

‹ Prev