Girl-Nerds Like it Deeper (Erotic Romance) Book 3 (Girl-Nerd Series)

by Dunning, Rachel

  His statement lit me on fire. I sat back down on the ottoman, clutched it tightly below me. Nathan went to his bedroom then was back out almost immediately. In his hand was a black box with a ribbon on it... A second wave of nervous flames fired against me when I saw it, remembering the last time he'd given me one of those, with the lube, the lingerie, the cuffs...

  I couldn't help break into a smile.

  He laid the box on the glass table, his eyes glinting as he grinned at me. "I was hoping you'd say yes," he said. "So I prepared."

  -7-

  Inside the box was an elegant sheer Basque with a lace middle and suspenders for holding up stockings, and a see-through set of panties with French lace and scallop edging. The stockings themselves were fencenets with exquisite lace garters. The material alone almost gave me an orgasm it was so soft. Of course, it was all in my size, made for my tiny breasts...

  I went to the main bathroom and washed up. I put on the lingerie and ruffled my hair for as close to a French Burlesque look as I could get. When I got back out Nathan still wasn't there. I sat at the couch, rested my hands on the back and crossed my legs.

  I thought of our times in this lounge all those months ago, how he'd done me on the couch I was facing now, how we'd fucked endlessly over and over all night, never getting enough of each other.

  Nathan finally walked out, shirtless, ripped and dazzling. But that wasn't what got the moisture moving down at my crotch. He'd gotten a tattoo, massive, dark and black, tribal, spanning his left shoulder down across his chest and abs, almost covering his entire left side.

  I swallowed. Gone were the desperate eyes of his from when I'd arrived earlier tonight. They were all predator now. His curls licked his forehead and the tops of his ears.

  He smiled, confident, self-assured.

  One thing became madly clear to me as I stared — no, gawked — at Nathan's sex appeal. He and I were stronger with each other than without. Forget love or any of that shit. We respected each other, needed each other. How long we would need each other I didn't know. But already I felt more empowered, sexier.

  Nathan made me feel sexy, he made my shapeless body feel voluptuous, my A cup feel like huge balloons, my easily bruised skin feel like the skin of a Brazilian sex-goddess.

  My nether lips pumped their wetness all over my new underwear and my heart fluttered like a pinwheel being blown on by a kid high on too much sugar. I took a deep breath, needing oxygen. Nathan just stood there, smirking, akimbo, his muscles gleaming. "No comment?" he asked, looking briefly at his new ink, his voice making the walls tremble.

  "It's...fucking hot," I said. There was no need to lie to Nathan. We'd always been honest with each other.

  All the questions I'd wanted to ask him disappeared. My wetness increased quickly. My stomach pulled in on itself, my clit and lips engorged. Pressure built up so high that I couldn't keep my legs closed anymore. It hadn't been intentional, it hadn't been some smooth move done by a super experienced girl. Nope, I just couldn't keep the fucking things closed and so they'd parted!

  Nathan's eyes widened, staring down at my crotch. I'd gotten a French wax since he'd last seen me...

  He licked his top lip, then the bottom. I saw him grow behind his denims, his massive chest pull in air and hold it. He sauntered over to me, each step a thump on my own heart, drums and trance dancers thrumming in my ear.

  My mouth went dry as I gasped for air...

  Then he kissed me, open-mouthed, wet, wild and passionate. He breathed his spearmint breath into me, my own breath catching from the sheer, unadulterated lust coursing through every vein of mine. He pushed my neck back onto the couch and my arms swung over to his crotch, fumbling and tumbling for his buckle, his kiss making me more and more light-headed. My eyes fluttered back, I stopped moving my mouth, saliva dripped down the back of my throat, the room went hazy.

  Then he pulled back.

  I gasped! I heaved in air to my empty lungs! My god, the guy had almost made me faint! I breathed deeply, forcefully, catching my breath, looking down in complete amazement. Nathan grinned.

  I put my hand up, my other to my chest while I caught my breath. "I have to ask you, before I get so horny that I'll forget..." I looked up at him. "Were you with anyone...since we, um...?"

  He nodded. I clenched my jaw. "You'll need to use a rubber then, baby."

  "I got tested, Layla. I'm clean. I have the results here if you want to look at them."

  I believed him. We had too much history for him to lie to me. I tried not to think of him having been with anyone else. Thankfully the guy still had me horny as hell so the thought was a vague flicker at most in my mind, quickly gone.

  "And you?" he asked.

  I gulped. "Huh?"

  "Have you slept with anyone since we — ?"

  "I'm clean. Trust me," I said, too embarrassed to discuss my celibacy. And to think that Nathan had always considered me 'experienced.' Yeah, right.

  He smiled wickedly. "Well, then let's get started, baby."

  He swooped down on me again, while I wasn't looking. He kissed my neck where it met my shoulder. Again I fumbled for his buckle, wanting to see him, to see his manliness and hugeness, and hold it, kiss it, thrust it into me because, damn it, I was so ready for him.

  "Nathan, fuck the foreplay. I need you. I need you inside me. Right now." I yanked his buckle open, then his zip. His manhood pulsed and throbbed under his boxers and my hand went immediately to it, squeezing it, holding it.

  He swooped me by my armpits, up onto the back of the couch like I was made of paper! My feet were on the seat and my ass on the back. He held me there, preventing me from reaching his cock as he stood back and stretched his arms which were much longer than my own. I licked my lips, looked down at his cock. I widened my legs, as wide as they could go so he would get the hint.

  He grabbed the strap of my new lace panties and wrenched them off. I heard ripping sounds as they pulled at my ass until only one side of them hung on my legs, and my swollen, tightened pussy waited, glistening and moist and wet and —

  "Oh fuuuuuuuuck!" I cried as he moved down and licked me once on it, wet and warm, from the bottom of my crotch and up, just touching the nub once.

  It hit me then that I'd never fully eased off after being touched by that other guy earlier. But now I was mellow as ice cream in the sun.

  Nathan licked me again, from the bottom up. I tightened, tensed. Pressure built up so high that if I was a pressure-pot he'd need a new roof! I thought of just outright begging him to put himself inside me and releasing me of all my tension. I moaned, constant and loud and painfully. I heard my cries bounce off his walls and windows. The cries became raspy and jagged every time his beautiful tongue licked me fully and completely, bottom to top —

  I began to shake, shiver...

  "Oh, god, I'm gonna come, baby. I'm gonna — "

  He picked me up, my ass in the air, laid me flat on the couch, raised my left leg so it reached my shoulder, my right foot now on the ground and, in no time at all...he filled me.

  To say I yowled doesn't cover it: I howled with ecstasy, cried out, moaned with blinding pleasure, a coyote in the desert. Because it was good, it was so good...

  He pushed and thrust and, damn, I was already coming! My vag contracted and spasmed and squeezed his cock hard ten, twenty, who knows how many times as I pulsed and shuddered and all that pressure just exploded and fired away from my crotch and around my ass and I convulsed and turned and —

  Thrust! Nathan fucked and fucked and fucked me, slamming magically in and out, sending electrified currents as his cock massaged the frazzled nerves of my inner walls and his pubis rubbed the hood of my clit.

  I must've started coming for a second time because just as I'd thought it had all released, my crotch tightened up again — an eternity of taut tension that never seemed to let go — and then snap, my head blasted down against the couch, once, twice, three times, my legs shook, convulsing,
despite all his weight on me.

  In the distance I heard his roars, heard his growls as he speared himself in and out of me, and then once more, pushing deeply into me, holding himself there, his neck tensing and tightening and reddening as he delayed that roar, held it, held it, held it...then boom. Manly calls and sounds escaped him and blended with mine until our mutual cries became the heavenly chorus of the ultimate pleasure two people can bring to each other.

  I was sizzling again, my breathing picking up, my mouth dry as a motherfucker and my tongue as parched as the desert. Nathan continued, slow this time, easing in and out as if he was ready to go again right away. His eyes raked my chest, my stomach, my torn underwear down below, and all the while he moved himself in and out of me.

  My legs tensed up again. Oh boy, and then he went for it...

  Not as hard as before but faster than I've ever seen a man move, he pumped me, slammed into me. I saw it in his face, ages and ages later, and his eyes clenched, tightened, and the slowest, deepest, cruelest grumble came from his lungs as he impaled me so deep I felt him all the way to the back of me...and he came — again! — unendingly, keeping his cock in me as far as he could and for as long as he could to inject his seed into me, brimming me completely.

  Finally, he exhaled, falling onto my small body, a sheen of sweat covering his back, heat filling my chest so completely that I felt like I needed to drink an entire pool of water to cool down.

  I watched his back move up and down while he breathed.

  We'd both needed each other in the most basic way a human might need another.

  I learned a lot about love that night, and I learned about something even more fundamental: Survival. Because, with each other, it felt like Nathan and I just survived better. Nerd or not, anyone could see the logic in that equation.

  -8-

  We sat outside afterwards, on two lawn chairs he had out on a porch. Normally Nathan didn't sit outside, he'd said, but his neighbors were away so they "won't be poking their noses in our business tonight."

  Because of it, I also hadn't bothered to put on any clothes, still trying to cool down from the solar storms of our colliding bodies a few minutes earlier.

  "I'm going to ask you questions now," I said, referring to his no questions rule.

  Nathan swallowed. "Can I at least get a drink first?"

  I scowled.

  "Worth a try," he said. He looked at my outstretched legs, my vag, my chest, then he exhaled.

  "What?" I asked.

  "If you're keen on getting your questions answered, you're gonna have to put on some clothes, because I'm getting horny again looking at you."

  I looked at his crotch. He wasn't hard, but he no doubt would be soon, so I put my skirt and tee back on. Nathan put on a tee as well, and slid into his slacks, the air cooler now.

  I fired my first question. No holds barred. "How many girls did you sleep with between when you and I, um, went our separate ways?"

  "Went our 'separate ways'? Don't you mean 'broke up'?"

  "No, we weren't technically dating, so we couldn't have broken up."

  "Darling, you have some serious fucking relationship issues. What do you think dating is?"

  I twiddled an imaginary hair on my knee. "I know I have relationship issues. Just answer the question."

  Nathan got the point. He cleared his throat, then said, "Four."

  The imaginary hair on my knee quickly became as dull as reruns of The Brady Bunch... "F — four?"

  I shouldn't feel jealous about it. I shouldn't. But I did. The jealousy was all inside me now, in my chest, in my heart, my lungs. I fought it down.

  "Yes, four. That's less than usual for me."

  My god! Maybe the no questions rule had been a better idea...

  I was too stunned to say anything. Nathan said, "Next question?"

  "So what is your 'usual' amount?"

  "God, you're really into the old girlfriends questioning, aren't you?"

  I ignored the use of the word 'girlfriend.' "Yes, now how many?"

  "The usual amount is...a lot."

  I rolled my eyes.

  "Look, Layla, you don't wanna know."

  "OK, then how many girls have you been with in total."

  Nathan whistled, a long, protracted whistle, and he rolled his eyes back.

  I shook my head. "OK, fine, old 'girlfriends' subject is a bad idea. Forget I asked." I crossed my arms.

  "I will. When do I get a chance to ask a question?"

  "Shoot."

  "Is your dad an Eric Clapton fan?"

  The crickets suddenly became very loud, and my skin broke out in shivers. I held my cool. "Um, yes, he...was...a big Eric Clapton fan." I found that imaginary hair again...

  The cricket rubbed its wings twice more, the sound thundering in the backyard. Nathan remained quiet. "Oh... I see. I get it," he said. And he did, because he didn't ask again. And I appreciated it. Which is why I decided to tell him more. Because if there's one thing I respect in a person, it's a lack of pushiness.

  "He died on my eleventh birthday. He was a programmer, one of those old-time guys that knew how to program right down to the processor. Because of him I was programming basic stuff by the time I was nine. Then he died. Some maniac drove into him on an icy road when he was out getting...something...Pepsi..." My eyes began to prickle. I stopped talking.

  "It's OK, Layla, I get it. Let's move on, alright?"

  I nodded, looked away, wiped one stray tear from my eye. Then I turned the conversation around. "And you? I mean, your folks?"

  "My folks! Oh, there's a soap opera for you. First there was the question of who my father was, but that finally got resolved when I was seventeen. Turns out it hadn't been the guy who thought he was my dad, but his best friend. Of course, it could've been any number of his friends, because turns out my mom fucked them all. Yeah, it's funny, normally it's the man who screws around town. Not in the Lockwood family. Momma was a real woman about town. So, of the four children she bore, not one of them belonged to the man who brought them all up, the man we all called pop. Well, when he found this out, he left. Then momma took refuge in anti-depressants. I mean, of course, why not blame your promiscuity on depression? It's an easy out, isn't it? 'Oh, I fucked all those men because I was depressed. Yes. All the money my husband gave me really depressed me.' What bullshit. She fucked those damn men because she chose to keep her goddamn legs open for them!"

  Whoa. Not a good subject...

  He looked up at the moon. "Anyway, that's not why I drink, in case you were wondering. I don't know why I drink. Everyone in our family is a delinquent in one way or another. I have two sisters, one brother. We mostly hate each other, but we also have a mutual respect for each other, like we've all been through some incredible ordeal that's brought us painfully together somehow... I'm the only one who's made a life for himself. I try and spend as much time in the UK as I can. I hate the states, it reminds me too much of what a mess I come from." Pause. "Damn it, I really need a fucking drink."

  Sadness filled my eyes as I looked at him.

  "I'm kidding!" he said.

  "You ever thought of settling down with anyone?" I asked. I twiddled with something on the garden table between us.

  "Never. I think love is a load of bullshit."

  "Me too," I said, trying to convince myself by saying it out loud.

  We sat in silence.

  "Why did you speak to me that first night?" I eventually asked.

  "Why not? You looked fucking hot in that skimpy skirt and those Goth-black eyes."

  So it had been pure hormones. I could live with that.

  "Why I stayed longer with you was a different matter altogether," he said.

  My arm froze on the table, errant thoughts stampeding through my mind. My mouth opened just a bit, cool air drying the tip of my tongue.

  "You do something to me, Layla. It's not the way you fuck — Although, I must say, damn, you drive me wild with your confiden
ce!"

  I blushed. "I'm only confident with you," I said.

  "I can understand that. I feel the same way...in a way."

  I felt he wanted to say more. I saw his lips part, the words almost escaping, then he closed them and sighed.

  Nathan was not a person of many words. Another thing I liked about him. It excused my own lack of words as well. He and I had always communicated best through touch.

  I got up from the lawn chair, put my index finger on the table and scraped it as I sauntered around it. I stood in front of him, between his outstretched legs. Nathan cleared his throat. I felt no slightest bit of shame at my own unshapely legs or how pale they were. I felt all woman around Nathan.

  I stared him straight in the eyes

  "I...like your new hair color," he said.

  "Thank you," I whispered, moving my hand to the zip of my skirt. I unzipped it slowly, deliberately.

  Nathan's lips parted, then he closed them. He shuffled back in his chair, licked his lips once.

  When my zip got to the bottom, I let my skirt drop to my feet, stepped out of it, kicked it behind me.

  I watched his crotch, saw the bulge getting bigger, felt my own crotch engorge and moisten. I heaved in a heated breath. I wanted to control this as much as possible, for him. And I wanted to lick him, to touch him, to suck him, slow and confident, just as he'd told me I was.

  I pulled off my tee, shook my hair and threw the tee away. I was absolutely nude now except for the fencenets he'd gotten me. Nathan fired his hands to my waist and pulled me toward him. He was so strong and could've made me straddle him by force easily, but when I hesitated, and pushed him away with my index, he smiled and acceded.

  I got on my knees, the cold floor hard against them. I undid his buckle. A low, manly moan betrayed his arousal, as did his size when I got his pants open and pulled his bulging cock out. Moonlight glistened off its tip, filled with dripping pre-come. He smelled completely of sex, of our mutual come from earlier. The smell of it dazed me, made me delirious with arousal, made my eyes flutter quickly, and sent warmth down the middle of my legs.