The Boyfriend Diaries: A Romance Box Set Collection

by S. E. Law

  “That’s the great part about owning your own business - you can work from anywhere.” He stretches, looking around the room with an expression of casually vague interest. I watch in wonder as his lean muscles flex when he extends his arms behind his back. “Location doesn’t bother me too much, to be honest,” he continues. “Whether it’s a villa in the countryside, my penthouse back in NYC, or my dad’s place… As long as I can do what I need to for work, it’s all good.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, feeling awestruck. “It’s all good.”

  Oh my god, I think. A businessman who goes to sex parties in his free time? This is like, some honest-to-god Fifty Shades of Grey shit. And as much as I might have wanted to leave when I saw what was first going on at this party, I’m finding myself lost in Hunter’s features, his sapphire eyes, the way he holds himself, and that teasing grin he keeps giving me. Hunter seems to pick up on my nervousness. It’s like he has me paralyzed with his blue gaze, making me forget everything going around outside of this conversation.

  “So,” he says, taking a step closer to me, “what are you looking for here?”

  “I…” My voice cracks. I’m very aware of how close he is to me now, and of the heat radiating off his body. I’ve never been this close to a guy this hot - let alone a naked one - in my entire life. “I’m just back here for the summer,” I respond, feeling sheepish. “I didn’t want to stay in California after finals, so I figured I would-”

  “Come on, Frankie,” Hunter says, the corner of his mouth twitch a little. “What are you looking for here? At this party?”

  I stare up at him, feeling like a deer in the headlights. What am I supposed to say? My friend? A drink?

  Him?

  I find myself at a loss for words. This guy has cast a spell over me, making me feel things I didn’t even think I was capable of feeling. How is this possible, all from a single conversation? Hunter moves closer to me, reaching up with a calloused hand to brush a strand of hair out of my eyes.

  “I don’t know,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  “Hm,” he says, his eyes hooded with desire, and then, before I even know what’s happening, he’s leaning in, the tip of his nose brushing against mine. The sounds of the music seems to fade into the background, along with the muted conversation and sex noises coming from the other room, and all I’m aware of is my heart hammering in my ears as Hunter’s hand lingers on my cheek. “I can think of a few things you could do,” he murmurs, his voice unbelievably smooth, and then he’s letting his lips brush against mine.

  For a moment I stand there frozen in place, at a loss for what to do as I feel Hunter’s lips press down more firmly. This hasn’t happened since a drunk Arnold Anderson kissed me at a school dance, and that had been sloppy and unpleasant. This, on the other hand, is soft, tender, and passionate, making me go weak in the knees as I bring a tentative hand up to his bare shoulder, caressing his bronzed skin wonderingly.

  The kiss deepens, and after a moment I feel the tip of Hunter’s tongue touch my lips. Feeling a heat building between my legs, I open my mouth to allow it to snake in, letting out a little gasp as Hunter slides an arm around my waist to pull me closer. Is this really happening? Am I, Frankie Fordham, the shyest, curviest girl in Granite Heights actually being kissed by a mysterious stranger at a dirty party?

  Half of me wonders if I’m going to wake up any minute.

  Hunter pulls back, and the look in his eyes is unmistakable. Lust. Not for any of the hotter, skinnier girls at the party. For me.

  “Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, his eyes flickering from mine back to my lips.

  “You mean, like, to get a drink?” I ask, feeling both breathless and stupid.

  He chuckles, those blue eyes gleaming.

  “I like you, Frankie.” Then he’s nodding in the direction of the stairs leading to the second floor. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice heavy with desire.

  I stare at him for another moment and then nod, all doubts I’ve been having blown away by the look of desire in his gorgeous blue eyes.

  “Okay,” I breathe. “Let’s go.”

  OMG, is this really happening? Am I letting a gorgeous man I’ve just met sweep me upstairs for a good time? I guess so because it’s the new Frankie Fordham. I’m now a curvy, sassy girl who’s going to explore with a handsome stranger as my guide.

  112

  Hunter

  It usually takes more than a pretty face to get my attention, and tonight is no exception. I’ve always been proud of the fact that I’m hard to impress, both inside and outside of my business dealings. Between my dad, a powerful man with his fair share of suitors knocking at his door, and everyone at New York University who thought that coming from money would make me a pushover, I’ve developed a pretty thick skin. It’s part of the reason that, at age thirty, I’m already in charge of a multi-million dollar business empire. I’m discerning in my tastes, and proud of it.

  Thinking about it, I guess that’s what drew me to play parties in the first place. I was first introduced to the scene back in New York, where there’s practically a new club or BDSM show for every block. It started as a way of easing the stress of work, especially when dating was never really my thing. But over time, it became something of a hobby for me. There’s a sense of adventure in showing up at someone else’s house, full of anonymous strangers who were ready to unleash their most carnal desires. No strings attached, no stress about customers, sales quotas, or employees. Just simple physical pleasure.

  What’s not to like?

  I find myself thinking about this as I climb out of my low-slung sports car, which I intentionally parked a few blocks down so as not to draw too much attention. Some people might call the car overly-flashy, but it has killer speed - a must for the drive from New York to the Heartland. Besides, I’m the kind of guy who enjoys the finer things in life. I guess it runs in the family.

  Tucking my hands into my pockets, I head up the driveway to the front door. Tonight’s host is a girl named Cassie I got to know through some mutual connections back in NYC. Running a hand through my hair, I push the doorbell, waiting as the sound of voices on the other end grows louder. A thin, brown-haired girl opens the door, and her eyes light up when she sees me.

  “Well, well,” Cassie says, giving me a coquettish smile, “Hunter Martin, founder and CEO of Revival Footwear. You know, when I heard you were interested in coming, I almost didn’t believe it.”

  “Believe it,” I growl, grinning at her. “Mind if I come in?”

  She looks like she’s drinking me in with her eyes, biting her lip as she gives me one more appreciative glance before pulling the door open wider. I step inside the house, nodding as I take in the decor. This is clearly someone who’s been on the scene for a while.

  “Feel free to take your clothes off,” Cassie sings, her eyes sweeping over me once more as she leads me into the living room. “There’s champagne in the kitchen, if you want it. Otherwise…” She spreads her arms, looking around the room. “What happens here stays here.”

  “I can appreciate that,” I say, nodding as I watch the others. Most of them are halfway undressed already, and the majority of party goers haven’t even showed up yet. For a moment I debate whether I should just dive right in, but ultimately decide against it. The evening is young, and I don’t want to burn out before I’ve really had a chance to savor it. I made that mistake the first time I went to one of these things.

  Besides, there will be plenty of opportunities tonight; I’m aware of my looks, and not afraid to admit it. It’s that like I put that much time into my appearance, but at the end of the day I draw my fair share of attention from the ladies, for better or worse.

  I spend a while exploring the house, passing couples locked in passionate embraces and trios of partiers pawing at each other like their lives depend on it. A decent number of them are younger than me, but not all of them; it looks like t
he guests range in age from early twenties to mid-thirties, and they’re all undeniably attractive.

  Eventually I find my way into the kitchen, finding a spot by the drinks table and making conversation with a few of the others as more guests show up. Things are really starting to pick up within the hour, and I’m on the verge of approaching a fit blonde who’s been eyeing me for the past few minutes when I’m suddenly doused with cold liquid.

  I look around in confusion for a moment before my eyes settle on a girl next to me, who’s fumbling with an empty champagne glass. She’s buxom, with rosy cheeks, long, chestnut hair, and eyes to match. She reminds me a little of an old-fashioned pinup girl, with attractive curves and the kind of delicate features that make it hard to tell how old she is. Her skin is smooth and soft, her peaches and cream complexion giving her a warm glow even under the neon lights.

  I listen to her stammer out an apology, her voice breathy and musical as she takes me in with her eyes. I can see her struggling not to stare, and I can’t help but leer a bit at how cute she is. The fact that she’s still wearing clothes isn’t lost on me either, and I would know the deer-in-the-headlights look on her face anywhere. She’s never been to one of these things, that much is clear.

  I begin a conversation with her, the small talk coming as easily to me as ever as I observe her and listen to her words. Turns out her name is Frankie, and she came here with a friend. She’s a student at Cal. Smart, clearly, but shy. She asks me what I do for work and I tell her, in so many words. It’s not something I normally like to get into at these parties, but she’s so naive and nervous that I can’t bring myself to give her a hard time about it. There’s something about her that draws my attention, even though she seems like the type to avoid attention like the plague. It’s in the way she speaks, I think, and the way she carries herself. She reminds me of a spring flower with delicate petals, just waiting to be plucked.

  She’s mine for tonight, I decide. The realization comes to me quickly and powerfully, and within seconds my mind is made up. I take a step closer to the gorgeous girl. She swallows audibly, looking at me with big caramel eyes.

  “So, what are you looking for here?” is my drawl.

  I catch a whiff of her scent then, light and floral. Innocent and sweet. It’s enough to make me want to grab her and ravish her right there.

  “I…” She looks up at, her eyes wide, her breath catching in her throat. “I’m just back here for the summer. I didn’t want to stay in California after finals, so I figured I would come home.”

  Her naivety is charming.

  “Come on, Frankie,” I murmur, smirking a little. “What are you looking for here? At this party?”

  She watches me for a moment longer, her chocolate-brown eyes showing both doubt and veiled desire. Does she even realize it?

  “I don’t know,” she breathes. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

  A lock of brown hair has fallen into her face, but she seems at a loss. Pushing it out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear, I let out a hum. This is the best part, the moment before everything comes together, right before we jump off the precipice into a new adventure, even if it’s only for a single night.

  “I can think of a few things you could do,” I tell her, and kiss her. She feels tentative in my arms, but before long her arms are coming up to rest on my shoulders, and when I break the kiss she looks like she’s in a trance. “Do you want to get out of here?” I ask. She bites her lips and looks hesitant, but then something melts inside. Pretty soon, I’m leading my new victim upstairs to seek a private place together. Shit, I can’t wait to get inside those curves and to taste her lush creaminess.

  Now we’re standing in the only bedroom in the house that hasn’t been claimed. I shut the door behind us, and as I take Frankie in with my eyes, I see that her face is flushed with desire, her eyes wide. I take a few steps closer to her and lift my arm to her shoulder, caressing her smooth skin before leaning in to kiss her gently. I can feel her trembling slightly as my lips move against hers, the movements of her hands and tongue tentative and exploratory as I tangle my other hand in her hair. The kiss grows deeper, and I can feel my arousal building already. When was the last time a girl got me this riled up, even at a swinger party?

  Now isn’t the time to wonder, though. I feel her run her hands over my shoulders and down my chest, pausing to appreciate the feeling of my abs under her fingers. I smirk against her mouth, breaking the kiss long enough to bring my lips down to her neck. She gasps at the new sensation, pressing up against me and shivering as I let my teeth graze her delicate skin. My cock is as hard as I can remember it ever being, and as I pull her closer, I can tell she feels it, too. She sucks in a breath as I drop my hand to touch her ass, appreciating the way it feels under my palm.

  “Wait,” Frankie breathes.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, pulling away to look at her, concerned.

  “I just…” She looks like she’s struggling to find the words, and then she blurts it out, the explanation coming out in a rush. “I’ve never done this before.”

  I come to a full stop.

  “Seriously?”

  She swallows, not meeting my eyes, and nods.

  “I just never thought it was going to happen,” she says quietly.

  I take her chin in my hand, forcing her to look at me.

  “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” I tell her, and mean it. My partner being uncomfortable is one of my biggest turn offs, and even though the thought of taking her virginity is enough to make me shiver with desire, I’m not the kind of guy to pressure someone, no matter how stunning she is.

  “No,” she says, sounding suddenly afraid. “No, it’s not that. I want to. I just…” She swallows, and the mixture of trust and lust in her eyes makes them shine in the dim light. “Maybe you can show me?” she whispers.

  “Gladly,” I murmur, leaning in to press my lips to hers again. Now she’s warming up, and I can feel her discomfort dissolving under my deft touch. Slowly I bring my hand up to the back of her dress, tugging the zipper down gently and allowing her to step out of the soft fabric. Underneath is a cute bra and matching panties that hug her figure just right.

  “May I?” I ask, my hands lingering at the clasp of her bra.

  “Yes,” she says. “Please.”

  That’s all I need, and in one quick movement I’m casting the garment aside. She’s hugging her arms to her chest, looking intimidated, and I gently take her wrists in mine to pull them out of the way, gazing at her perfect, round tits and licking my lips. I let my hands come up to brush them, teasing the nipples out and feeling them stiffen at my touch. Frankie lets out a low moan, and that’s enough to send my self-control out the window. I pull her over to the bed, pushing her gently onto its plush surface and crawling over her, drinking in her body appreciatively.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I tell her, kissing her again before dropping my mouth to her breast and beginning to suck gently.

  Frankie gasps, spasming underneath me. Has she ever imagined a guy doing this to her? The thought that I’m her first is indescribably hot, and I buck against her almost instinctively as I lower my hand to her panties. I glance up at her, waiting for permission, and she gives me a quick nod, allowing me to pull the thin piece of fabric down over her thighs and touch her pussy uninhibited. She’s soaking wet, and as I let the tip of my finger graze her clit, she moans.

  “Please…” Frankie says, her voice heavy with desire.

  “Please what?” I ask, my tone patient but teasing.

  “Please keep going,” she murmurs, cheeks flushing red.

  Smirking, I allow my movements to continue. Every jerk and spasm of her body beneath mine is like a drug, and as I watch her slowly come undone, I’m reminded again of why I do the things that I do. It’s always hard for me to stay patient when I’m pleasuring a woman, and listening to Frankie’s moans as I continue my ministrations is making it almost unbearable. Bu
t I’m nothing if not a gentleman. I want to make sure she’s warmed up before moving forward.

  Soon, she’s clutching the sheets with one hand, seemingly forgetting all about where she is or what she’s doing, running her fingers through my hair as I let my rhythm pick up speed. Her breathing is coming in rapid gasps, her body trembling at my touch.

  “I think I…” she begins, but her words dissolve into a moan as she comes abruptly, pulling my hair as pleasure overtakes her. Frankie’s back arches beautifully, her form consumed by a heart-wrenching, full-body spasm.

  “Unnnnh!” she squeals as hot juices gush all over. “Oh god!”

  I swallow hard, watching as that beautiful pink slit pulses and shivers, begging for something inside.

  “Mmmm!” she screams again.

  Shit, this woman is incredible. My body hardens even more as I stare at those pink, throbbing petals and the tiny hole begging to be filled. Moving like a predator, I shift back up her body, pressing a kiss to her lips as she stares up at me with a combination of reverence and ecstasy.

  “Wow,” she breathes, running a hand over my face.

  “Frankie, sweetheart,” I murmur as I gaze into her chocolate brown eyes. “I have to fuck you.”

  She nods.

  “Yes, Hunter… Please.”

  “Are you on birth control?” I ask, and she nods, blushing a little, as if I didn’t just finish giving her her first climax.

  Pulling her legs apart gently, I position myself between them, not breaking eye contact as I push slowly inside her. She groans as she feels me stretching her out. It’s the first time she’s ever had someone inside her, and I wait to move until she adjusts to the sensation, panting and staring up at me as I grip her thighs in my hands. We stay like that until it’s almost unbearable, and then, slowly, deliberately, I begin to move inside her. She drops her head back against the bed, moaning as I continue to thrust, feeling myself come a little more undone every time my hips connect with hers. Soon, every cell in my body is buzzing, the sensations shooting through me like bolts electricity. The pleasure consumes me, and in that moment, the rest of my world couldn’t be farther from my mind.