“I wouldn’t say it was impossible,” I replied, arching a brow. She smiled, her dimples flashing, and dropped to her knees, taking me into her mouth. I let out an inaudible groan as I tangled my fingers in her wet hair, holding it away from her face.
She bobbed, taking as much of me as she could. Her hot tongue swirled around the tip of my cock with torturous precision. Her hands moved with her mouth, working me until my balls tightened.
“Gwen,” I warned her, trying to pull out of her mouth before I came, but she held tight, moving with me, and looking up at me with lust-filled eyes.
Her fingers brushed against the underside of my balls, and I exploded, my cum shooting down the back of her throat. She swallowed it greedily, sucking every last drop from me.
I pulled out of her mouth, helping her stand. Slipping my index and middle fingers into her sex, I stroked her slick, velvety lips.
It was my turn to sink to my knees, and I did so, looping her right leg over my shoulder. I licked her, my tongue tracing patterns against her core that made her legs tremble. Working her with my fingers, I drew another orgasm from her, tasting her pleasure.
I wanted to pick her up, to hold her up against the tiled wall while I drove into her wet pussy over and over again, but like an idiot, I hadn’t brought a condom into the bathroom, and I’d long since learned my lesson about protection.
But fuck, I wanted to. Gwen seemed to sense my hesitation, and she leaned around me to turn off the shower. “Let’s call this an intermission,” she said breathlessly, handing me a towel before grabbing one for herself.
I chuckled, shaking my head a little as I stepped from the tub. Drying off, I watched while she pulled on her t-shirt and started walking down the hall. I yanked my boxer briefs back on and followed her.
“Now, I’ve got frozen pizza or Thai food leftover from earlier today. Since you’ve spent a greater part of this evening munching on my honeypot, I figured you wouldn’t care if I’d previously attacked it with a fork.”
“Yeah, I can’t say I’m a germaphobe.” I cocked a brow. She laughed, turning around and disappearing into her little kitchen. I peeked in, leaning against the doorway, watching while she stood on her tip-toes to put a cardboard carton in the microwave above her stove.
Her shirt rode up, revealing her round ass, and my cock swelled at the sight of it. She dropped back down on her heels and raked a hand through her hair, pulling it all over one shoulder. She bit her lip as she turned her head to look at me.
The microwave dinged, and she reached to grab the food, taking her time. Knowing I was watching, Gwen stretched a little further, allowing her shirt to ride up a little more.
Now I was uncomfortably hard, ready for more—again. It’d been a long time since I’d allowed myself an escape, one where I didn’t immediately run for the door. Of course, none of the other one-night stands had left me feeling like this.
A lot of it had to do with her personality. She was casual, friendly, with a sultry side that made me want to stay. It was hard to walk away from a woman wearing nothing but a snug-fitting t-shirt.
Best of all, she wasn’t asking questions, and that made me want to stay for a little while longer before I returned to the mundane.
Gwen grabbed two forks and sauntered over, her hips swaying subtly enough for me to know it wasn’t a show, she just moved in a way that was both exquisite and understated.
I pushed down on my cock, trying to adjust it. Her eyes followed my hand, and there was no way to hide the effect she had on me. She smirked, her dimples flashing and her eyes sparkling.
“Want some?” she offered, holding the container out to me. The tips of my fingers brushed against hers. I took a bite, chewing slowly, watching her while she watched me with a private, knowing smile on her face. She stabbed at the noodles, drawing it into her mouth, her lips fitting around the fork erotically.
Dahmer, the cat, ran from the room like a bat out of hell, slapping twice at my bare leg with his lightning-fast paws before he raced and hid under the couch. She clamped a hand over her mouth to silence her laughter.
“You think that’s funny, huh?”
“I’m sorry.” She giggled, trying to regain her composure. “I really am. Maybe he’s just not used to males. You’re the first one he’s met.”
“Really?” I said with my brow lifted in mild surprise.
“Sort of crossing into personal territory there,” she warned with a wry grin, pointing her fork at me for a moment before she attacked the noodles. “But really. Usually, I don’t bring home strange guys from the bar.”
“Is that so?”
“Don’t look so horrified, I’m not attempting to rope you into a relationship. I am, however, planning on using your body a few more times before you go, if you’re cool with that.”
“Oh, I’m cool with that,” I said thickly.
“Great, because I’ve had a hell of a dry spell, and you’re just what I need right now.” She grinned, clearly pleased with the arrangement. I let out a chuckle, low and rumbling, more than willing to help break her dry spell.
Gwen was nestled against my chest, her head on my shoulder and her leg over both of mine. Every time she breathed in her sleep, her heavy breasts would push against the side of my ribs.
I should have already left, but something was holding me here. God knows I had enough on my plate—I was starting a new job, adjusting to life in a new town, and trying to get through to my ex without involving the courts. I didn’t have time for a relationship, and I didn’t want one.
But sex with Gwen was out of this world. The entire time we’d hung out, she’d kept it light and relaxed. She didn’t ask me personal questions, didn’t share personal things with me, either, and didn’t try to make it more than it needed to be. She was using me, too, and I was all right with that.
With her soft, curvy body pressed against me, I hated to move. I wanted to wake her up with my lips on her pussy—and that meant I really needed to leave.
Moving slowly, I detangled Gwen’s limbs from mine. She murmured in her sleep, but didn’t wake when I slipped from her bed. With the light of the lamppost outside to guide me, I found my clothes, dressing silently.
I walked lightly down the hall, pulled my boots on, and glanced back toward her bedroom before turning to the door. I opened it, locking it from the inside before I walked through it, closing it softly behind me.
Jogging down the stairwell, I left her building. Digging in my pocket for my key, I walked to my bike. I shoved my helmet on and climbed on. Turning the key, I glanced up at her apartment building once more before pulling onto the road, I headed north on Highway 28.
The ride home was quiet; nobody was out at this hour. Twenty minutes later, I pulled into my driveway, my eyes on my new house. The dark gray siding and red doors had first appealed to me, but when I’d walked through it, I fell in love with it. I’d purchased it outright, using the money I made off selling my business and last house.
Jumping off long enough to open the garage door, I drove the bike inside and locked up, exhaustion bludgeoning me. Walking in through the front door, I pulled it shut behind me, locking it. I set my helmet on the bench beside the door. The sound echoed with every movement I made.
The house was too silent without her here, and I hated it.
The hardest thing about the breakup hadn’t been losing Cheryl, it had been losing the ability to see my daughter every single day, to tuck her in at night and make her breakfast on weekend mornings while her mom slept in.
My relationship with Cheryl had never been perfect—we were poorly-matched from the start. We conceived Sawyer the first time we hooked up, and we were parents before we found out just how badly we meshed.
But still, despite our rocky relationship, I’d been faithful to her. I tried with everything I had to make it work between us, for Sawyer’s sake. Cheryl had sucked me dry, emotionally and mentally, and then she’d left.
She’d been pissed that I’d move
d closer, thinking I was trying to intrude on her new life. It always had to be about Cheryl—it couldn’t possibly be because I’d hoped I could occasionally pick Sawyer up from school, which, so far, hadn’t happened.
Every other weekend was too long to go without seeing your child, and I wished she would understand that. Even though I was less than half an hour away from them, Cheryl still insisted on sticking to our every other weekend arrangement.
I walked through the kitchen and climbed the stairs to my bedroom, falling onto the mattress, my body exhausted, spent from the rigorous, six-hour work out I’d just put it through.
Usually, it took me hours to fall asleep—it didn’t seem to matter how hard I worked out before bed, the moment my head hit the pillow, my mind wouldn’t shut off. Tonight, though, I quickly fell into a heavy slumber.
Gwen
“So, how was your night?” Kelsey asked, a smirk on her face as she turned her head to watch me.
“Amazing,” I purred with contentment, leaning my head back against the pedicure chair, enjoying the attention the nail technician was giving my poor, neglected feet. “I feel so relaxed. Which is shocking, because I’ve never had a dick that big before.”
“Oh my God, Gwen.” Kelsey laughed, shaking her head apologetically at the two women who were privy to our conversation. “I’m sorry about my sister, she’s insane.”
“Not clinically,” I argued, rolling my eyes. “And hey, you asked.”
“Yeah, I can’t say I’ll make that mistake again.” She snorted, stretching her toes out so her technician could apply the hot pink polish. “So, I guess this means you aren’t mad at me for purposely ditching you?”
I let out a contented hum, resting my head against the back of the chair again. I felt like a new person. Sleeping with Alaric had been the best decision of my life—it’d chased all thoughts of Erik clean from my head, or at least the ones where I pined for what I thought we’d had.
I wasn’t pinning anymore. Somewhere between the first orgasm and the fifth, I’d realized that what Erik and I had wasn’t all that great, to begin with. Sure, we got along well enough, we’d enjoyed a lot of the same things, and we had fun when we were together—but Erik had never been able to make me come multiple times.
In fact, the only way I’d been able to get off is when I climbed on top of Erik and rode him. I had to do the work to achieve the goal, and I hadn’t realized how…boring that was.
Last night, Alaric had me in so many different positions, my body was still aching in the best way possible, and I’d orgasmed so much I was certain I’d wake up looking like a prune. Thankfully, I hadn’t.
“He’s the Holy Grail of sexual escapades,” I remarked, sighing dreamily.
“Did you get his number?” Kelsey asked, sipping at the cappuccino the salon provided.
“No,” I said, somewhat regretfully. He’d snuck out after I’d fallen asleep. I’d woken up a little bummed about it, and I’d spent the night dreaming of morning sex, but I understood. Was it even a one-night stand if someone wasn’t sneaking out before dawn? “That felt like it’d be crossing a boundary, especially since he didn’t offer or ask for mine.”
“What a dick.” My sister frowned, displeased.
“Yes, what a dick,” I repeated, only whimsically. I harboured no ill feelings toward the incredibly sexy man who’d made me come repeatedly. In fact, I hoped I would run into him again.
“Jesus Gwen, we’re in public!” She slapped my shoulder, gesturing to the technicians at our feet, who were both laughing a little.
“Oh, it’s all right. This is tame compared to some of the stuff we overhear,” my nail girl said, grinning.
“See, she loves it. Every girl loves a good dick story,” I remarked airily. “And besides, he’s not a dick for not giving me his number or asking for mine. He told me straight up he wasn’t looking for a relationship, and as much as I’d like to lock down that cock, I’m not looking for one either.”
“You shouldn’t let Erik ruin men for you.” Kelsey frowned.
“I’m not. I’m just not interested in signing up for heartbreak right now. I’ll sign up for multiple orgasms, but I’ll pass on the whole fusing-my-life-with-someone-else thing. That only leads to disappointment. I’ve decided I like my life.”
“Must have been a magic cock,” Kelsey muttered to her nail girl. “She’s been sulking about her breakup for eight months now.”
“Hey!” I protested, glaring at her. “It was kind of a shocker, don’t you think?”
“Not really, no.” She shook her head. Apparently, everyone saw Erik’s betrayal coming but me. Lovely. Another reason why I needed to stay away from relationships. It seemed that I didn’t know how to tell if I was in a decent one or not.
“Anyway,” I sighed dramatically, an attempt at steering the conversation back into my court. “Last night’s escapades inspired an idea for a novel.”
“Another one?” Kelsey arched her brow, turning her head to stare at me.
“Yup, and this time, I’m actually going to finish it. I’ve decided that I can’t be in a relationship until I’m happy in every aspect of my life, and that won’t happen until I start following my own dreams. Putting myself first, you know?”
“How will you find time for that?” she asked, not unkindly, just curiously. Kelsey operated similarly to our mother. She thought my writing was a cute hobby but an impractical career choice. She was likely worried that I’d up and quit my job at the shop and leave Dad hanging.
I shrugged, unconcerned. “What else do I have to do with my spare time?”
“Well, I’m happy for you,” Kelsey declared, sending me a relieved grin. “Now can we talk about the bachelorette party?”
“Yes.” I grinned. “Absolutely. I’ll need you to email me a guest list, and I’ll get everything sorted. I know your tastes, so don’t worry—I won’t hire any strippers.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” she asked dryly.
I smirked, tapping the side of my nose with my finger, and winked. “Because you know me.”
“Ugh, please don’t spend my money on strippers,” she pleaded.
“Fine, I won’t use your money on strippers,” I replied.
“Or your money.” Kelsey frowned.
“What about Montreal?” I suggested, arching a brow.
“Oh, I hear Montreal is the place to go for bachelorette weekends!” my nail girl piped up.
“See? We’ll do Montreal. It’ll be fun,” I remarked, trying to not think about how much a weekend in Montreal and a stripper would cost me. But your sister only gets married once—hopefully, anyway—and I still had a few months to save.
4
Just My Luck
Gwen
“Morning, Gwen, how was your weekend?” Dad asked, pausing by my desk. He smiled affectionately at me, and I almost winced.
“It was good,” I responded, turning my attention to my computer screen to mask my discomfort and awkwardness. The last thing I needed to do was to think about my one night stand with the magical cock, especially with my father standing there watching me, but that’s where my thoughts kept going. Over and over again.
“That’s good. We’ve got a new employee coming in today. He’ll have to fill out the paperwork before he can get started. You’ll help him if he needs it?” he asked, business as usual as he set a stack of paper down on my desk.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, wondering if reading wasn’t a prerequisite to welding. It seemed that the majority of welders my dad hired could scarcely read a form.
“Yes, I’ll assist if need be,” I replied, using my best professional tone. The last guy I had to help fill out paperwork had been dumber than a stump, and he hadn’t lasted very long at Williams’ Tech.
“Good,” Dad said. He was interrupted by the chiming of the bell over the office door. He turned and smiled. “There he is now!”
I lifted my head, my eyes landing on the sexy owner of said magical coc
k I was trying so hard not to think about.
Alaric froze, his eyes on me too. It was evident by the expression on his face that he hadn’t counted on running into me again, lest of all at his new place of work.
Crap.
“Alaric! This is my daughter, Gwen. She’s also the office manager, and she’ll help you get started on the paperwork. Come find me when you’re done. I’ll be in the shop.”
“Sounds good,” Alaric said somewhat stiffly, and Dad nodded with satisfaction, his hands slapping against my desk lightly before turning and walking down the hall that led to the massive steel shop.
When the door shut behind him, I took a deep breath and stood, collecting the pile of paperwork my father had left on my desk. I cleared my throat, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose, stalling for time.
My heart was pounding frantically in my chest, and I had to focus on not trembling while I recalled exactly how remarkable this man had made me feel Friday night—and well into Saturday morning.
The holy grail of penises, the one that was forever supposed to top my list but definitely never supposed to walk into my place of work as a new employee of my father.
I cleared my throat, looking up, and nearly jumped backwards at Alaric’s sudden proximity. “If you’ll follow me,” I managed, pasting on what I hoped was a professional smile but was probably more of a nervous grimace.
The heat and questions in Alaric’s gaze were unnerving, and I inhaled sharply when I moved past him, drawing in the intoxicating scent of him to my starving lungs.
Walking through the main part of the office, I led him to the meeting room in the back. It was where my dad met with his engineers to go over blueprints and where we had new employees fill out the massive stack of paperwork.
I left the door open as I walked into the room and set the papers on the round table, turning to look at him again, finding him less than two feet away, his unwavering gaze on me.
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