by Olivia Dade
“You and your gurt are terrible liars. We’ll get caught in a day,” she said.
He looked closely at her, his heart sinking in his chest. The Angie he knew didn’t hesitate to go after what she wanted, no matter the risks. Which implied that she didn’t want him. Not the same way he wanted her.
“Angie . . .” He sighed. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way I do. Maybe, for you, it’s not worth the risk. Maybe you’d rather be with a guy who’s”—he spread his hands helplessly—“more than me. Smoother. Someone who can dip you on the dance floor. Someone who makes important choices without creating weighted decision charts. Someone as amazing and vibrant as you.”
At that, the expression on her face changed, transforming from wary fear into anger. She poked him in the chest with a stiffened index finger.
“Don’t you ever talk about yourself disparagingly to me again,” she said. “You don’t need to be more. You’re perfect. If anything, I know I’m too much.”
He could sympathize with her flash of ire, because he suddenly felt it himself. “There’s no way in hell you could ever be too—”
She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’m going to ignore your reference to—what was it? Weighted decision charts? Jesus. Anyway, I’m going to ignore it because the thought of making decisions that way gives me hives.”
“They’re very useful in situations where—”
“Whatever.” She waved her hand. “My point is that I don’t give a fuck whether you can dip me on the dance floor. I don’t want you to be suave. I want you to be you, Grant. Just you. Bizarre charts, obsessively labeled cubbies, record-breaking condom collection and all.”
“When I saw you with Blaine tonight at the bar, I couldn’t . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t know what came over me. I only knew I couldn’t watch you move on with another man, even if he’d make you happier than me in the long run.”
“I doubt that,” she said.
“He seemed nice enough, considering he’s an asshole who put his hands on my woman and asked her to spend the night. He’s handsome. Debonair. Most likely never even heard of a decision chart.”
“Gay.”
Suddenly, Grant felt much better about his chances with Angie. “Like I said, great guy. Feel free to dance with him as often as you’d like.”
“I will.” She moved closer to him, wrapping the fingers of one hand around his upper arm. “Do you mean it? You’re falling in love with me?”
“Yes.” He refused to qualify his answer. Not even to safeguard his pride if she didn’t feel the same way.
A smile spread slowly across her face, widening to the beaming grin he adored. “Good. Because I feel the same way.”
He reached out to cup her beautiful face. Her green eyes, brighter than ever, sparkled with happiness. He brushed a thumb over her curving lips, needing to feel the soft give of her mouth and the heat of her breath. This close, the tropical smell of her shampoo rushed into his lungs. He breathed deeply, basking in the sensations Angie brought to him. Drowning in them, without any desire to escape.
She closed her eyes, and he leaned forward with lips parted in anticipation.
The moment before he kissed her, she spoke again. “Grant?”
He backed away a scant inch and waited.
Her eyes stayed closed, and the deep breath she took shuddered through her body. “What happens if I disappoint you? If you find out I’m not everything you think I am?” she asked in a small voice.
“Not going to happen,” he told her, nuzzling her nose with his.
“I hope not,” she said. “I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t.”
She sounded fierce. Determined. Oddly so, actually. Did she think he expected perfection from her?
“You don’t have to work to earn my lo—” he began, but found himself incapable of speech before he could finish the thought.
Angie gave his cock a second gentle squeeze through his jeans. “Enough talk,” she announced. “Time for action. And I mean action in the sexual sense, of course.”
“Good,” he said. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded rougher. Deeper. Unfamiliar, apart from the other times he’d heard it while making love with Angie.
He buried his fingers in the hair at the back of her neck, giving the fragrant handful a gentle tug. She gasped, her legs shifting restlessly as he strung tiny bites along the edge of her ear.
“Body-snatcher,” he muttered.
Then his mouth descended on hers. And without a single qualm, he happily let the stranger inside him take over once again.
20
Within five minutes, the two of them were lying naked in each other’s arms on his bed. This time, on actual sheets instead of a tarp. Grant couldn’t help but see that as an improvement, despite the searing memory of their first amazing night together.
Angie rolled on top of him, her hair forming a soft shelter around their faces. “I’m excited about this,” she said.
Her hand surrounded his cock, giving it a firm stroke, and he groaned.
“Yeah?” he managed to get out.
“I’ve had the best orgasms of my life with you.” Her teeth lightly scraped his nipple, and he fought the urge to spread her legs and push into her without any further preliminaries.
“Past performance is no guarantee of future results,” he noted.
Her busy hand slowed. “Did you just quote an investment commercial disclaimer to me? In bed?”
“Maybe. Unless that’s a turn-off.”
“On the contrary. That level of intense geekiness deserves a reward,” she said, sliding down his body. Her mouth trailed kisses down his chest and across his stomach, aiming for . . .
“Wait,” he said. He raised himself onto his elbows, looking down at her.
She lifted her head from his lower belly and gave him a quizzical look. “I’m kind of busy here, Grant. Doing something that starts with a B, ends with job, and rhymes with schmowjob. I’m not sure you want to interrupt me.”
Unable to meet her eyes, he tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. “That’s the thing. I know it’s weird, but I’m not really . . . into . . . those.”
She sat up. “Okaaaay,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “Let me get this straight. You don’t like blow jobs?”
“No. Not especially.” The tips of his ears felt hot, and so did his cheeks.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. They just don’t do it for me.”
“But you don’t mind going down on me?”
“Love it. Love it,” he said fervently.
She stared at him. “Are you sure you’re not a figment of my selfish imagination? That seems too good to be true. Not that I mind giving blow jobs,” she hastened to add, “because I don’t. But I can’t say they’re my favorite bedroom activity. Overactive gag reflex.”
“I’m not saying I wouldn’t like it. Only that there are other things I like more.”
“Miracle Man,” she whispered.
“Huh?”
“Someday maybe we’ll give it a shot and see whether I can change your mind about blow jobs. In the meantime, though, who am I to dispute what you like in bed?” She moved back up his body, brushing her lips softly against his. “What would you like me to do instead?”
“I didn’t get to see your face when you came in the storytime room,” he said. “And I think I was too overwhelmed to pay attention that first night we spent together. I want to watch you come tonight. Around my cock.”
“I don’t know . . . ,” she said. Her brows drew together, and she looked down at his chest. “I might be too shy to show my face.”
“Really?” he asked, incredulous.
“No.” She met his eyes and giggled. “Just kidding. That sounds awesome.”
He flicked the tip of her nose.
“I think you’ll find I’m amenable to pretty much any suggestion that involves me having an orgasm. I’m giving like that,” she said.
&nb
sp; He rolled the two of them again, until her body lay pressed beneath him. “Then give it up, lady.”
He took her mouth with his, cupping the back of her head in his hands. Her long legs wrapped around his hips, and her fingers trailed down the cheeks of his ass. He jerked, wrenching apart their mouths.
“Tickles,” he gasped.
She laughed and kept doing it until he pinned her hands by her shoulders.
“Enough,” he said when he could catch his breath. “Hands up. Hold on to the spindles.”
“Ooh,” she said. “I’m intrigued.” Without hesitation, her fingers wrapped around two of the vertical spindles in his wooden headboard.
He sat back on his heels, perched between her legs. For a minute, he simply looked at her, stretched out before him with arms and legs open. Her breasts thrust forward because of her position, and he could see the rise and fall of her chest with every breath she took. Almost every curve, dimple, and secret spot on her body lay exposed before him.
If he’d ever seen a more beautiful sight in his life, he couldn’t remember it. In fact, he couldn’t remember much of anything but the various fantasies he’d entertained about Angie in the last four days. Finally, it was time to make some of them come true.
The only places they were touching, he realized, were where his knees nudged the insides of her thighs. Good. He didn’t want to cover an inch of the view in front of him. He didn’t want her to be able to hide a single reaction to his touch. And—at least for the time being—he wanted control. Full-body contact would strip that from him in an instant.
With a single fingertip, he slowly stroked down the center of her body, from her sternum down to her pussy. That same deliberate finger spread her curls, separating her folds so he could see her more clearly.
“Look at you,” he said. “So lovely. Let’s see how long it takes you to come when I only touch you here, with this one finger.”
“Not long. I’m already wet for you, Grant.” She watched him with hot eyes. “Wouldn’t you rather I came with your cock inside me instead?”
“The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
His forefinger glided to her clitoris and lightly rubbed. Her legs spread a bit more at the contact. She closed her eyes as he moved down to the entrance of her body, teasing the opening with his circling finger and gathering her wetness. Back up to her clit his finger trailed, this time making leisurely passes over and around it.
She let go of the spindles and reached for him with a moan.
“No,” he said. “No touching me or yourself. All I want you to do is feel what I’m doing.”
Once she obeyed, he let his finger slide into her pussy. It sank into her easily, and he could feel her muscles clamping around the intrusion.
“You’re so hot inside, Angel. Do you want me to fuck you with this finger?”
She nodded, her head thrown back and a flush spreading across her chest.
He turned his hand palm up, crooking his finger so that every time he pushed into her pussy, he rubbed inside her with firm pressure. Every so often, he returned to her clit, stroking it and occasionally giving it a gentle tap.
After a few minutes, he could see how swollen her pussy had become, feel how slick she was inside and out. Her hips were lifted off the bed and rocking with increased desperation. She gasped each time he fucked into her with his finger, and gave a loud moan when he returned to circle her clit.
“Harder. Fuck me harder,” she said, her voice thick with arousal. Her hands moved to pinch her own nipples, and he nearly came right then at the sight.
“No,” he growled. He took her hands and wrapped them back around the spindles. “Hands up. Eyes on me.”
She opened hazy eyes to watch him as he worked between her trembling legs.
“I want to see your beautiful face. Come for me. Come for me, and I’ll fuck you as long and hard as you want.”
Without warning, he slid one hand up her body to pluck at her tight, rosy nipple. With the other, he pressed two fingers into her pussy while his thumb firmly rubbed her clit. And this time, he made sure he watched as she came. Her mouth opened as she cried out and he could see the muscles in her arms strain from her tight grip on the headboard. Her pussy quivered and spasmed around his fingers. Her legs clamped on either side of him, holding him close to her.
Before her trembling stopped, he slid down between her legs to take her clitoris in his mouth and suck. She tried to jerk away, but a firm hand on each hip kept her in place. Licking down to where her pussy still contracted faintly, he fucked her with his tongue as she whimpered.
“Grant,” she pleaded. “No more.”
“Need to get you ready to come around my cock.” He returned to her clit, flicking at it with increasing pressure as she began to lift her hips toward him once again.
His hands slid from her hips to her inner thighs, spreading her even farther. With his nose, he rubbed her clit while his tongue delved as deep as he could get it. When he could feel her muscles tensing beneath him and she’d begun making low sounds in her throat, he lifted his head and moved up over her.
Reaching to the nightstand, he grabbed a square package and ripped it open. He rolled a condom down his throbbing cock.
“Can I let go?” she asked. “I want to touch you.”
“Not yet.” He hooked his arms under her knees, spreading and lifting her legs even further. And then, thank fuck, he was finally, finally driving his aching cock inside her pussy, pushing forward until she took all of him.
“How fast?” he asked.
“Fast as you can,” she said in a hoarse voice.
He obliged, thrusting into her in quick, hard jerks of his hips. He could hear how wet she was and the sound of their slapping flesh with each plunge. The feeling of her hot, slick walls squeezing him and the sight of how her back arched in pleasure brought him to the brink of orgasm within a minute. He slowed, gasping for air and grasping for control.
“Enough,” she said, echoing his earlier comment.
She let go of the headboard, flipping the two of them so that she straddled his hips. When she lowered back down onto his cock, they both groaned. He stroked her back as she began to rock on him, letting his hands drift to her ass so he could help her move.
She leaned forward, grinding her clit against him with each rotation of her hips. Her fingers delved into his hair, and he jerked when they suddenly tightened and pulled. The sharp sting traveled down his spine, making his body bow.
“Jesus,” he ground out, fucking up into her as hard as he could as she slammed down on his cock.
He couldn’t last much longer. With one hand, he cupped her cheek, turning her face toward him. The other he wedged between their bodies so he could rub her clitoris firmly. At the contact, she gave a short scream and bucked wildly on top of him. The feel of her clamping pussy forced him into his own orgasm, and he fought to keep his eyes open through the wrenching waves of pleasure. He wanted to see her face as she squirmed and came all around his cock.
Her eyes were squeezed shut, her forehead damp, and her lips parted as she gasped. “Oh, fuck, Grant,” she panted, her vagina still fluttering and squeezing him.
He couldn’t agree more. Their first night together had been amazing. But this . . .
This he couldn’t begin to describe. He couldn’t pinpoint the difference, unless it was the fact that he knew Angie now. Maybe even loved her. The nascent connection he’d felt that first night had strengthened into a tie that bound his emotions and future and pleasure to hers. He didn’t think he could leave her now if he wanted to. And at the moment, leaving was pretty much the last thing on his mind.
He collapsed back onto the mattress. Angie flopped on top of him, her head nestled into the crook of his neck.
“I think you killed me with that last orgasm,” she said, her voice muffled. “You’ll have to tell my parents how I died. Fair warning: They’ll quote some statistics about how many people drop dead during sex each year. Th
en they’ll debate what I did wrong in bed to cause my untimely and undignified demise.”
“You never know. They might blame me,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around her.
“Are you kidding? They’ll adopt you.”
After a minute, he patted her ass a final time and gently rolled her off of him. He stood, bending over the bed to kiss her on her forehead. “Be right back.”
When he returned from the bathroom, he heard her coming back down the hall from the guest bathroom. He held out his arms, and she walked right into them without hesitation. The feel of her standing naked and pressed up against his body staggered him.
This is worth any price, he thought. This feeling of completion and joy.
“Stay with me tonight?” he whispered into her hair.
She climbed back into bed without a word, and he followed close behind. For a minute they cuddled silently, Angie curled against his side with an arm slung across his chest.
“Grant?” she asked just as he was beginning to doze.
“Hmmm?”
“Did you say something about a body-snatcher earlier?” she asked, stifling a yawn behind her hand.
At that question, he suddenly felt wide-awake again. Not to mention self-conscious. “Maybe,” he said, squirming a little.
“You didn’t really think I could let that pass without comment, did you?”
He sighed. “I guess not.”
“So?”
He took a moment to stare at the ceiling and gather his thoughts. “Sometimes, when I’m with you, it feels like an out-of-body experience. I see myself doing things that are out of character. Saying things I’ve never even thought before, using a voice I don’t recognize. Like when I interrupted your dance with Blaine. Or tugged your hair. Or made you hold on to the spindles without touching me. It feels like a different man has taken over my body, while I’m watching from the sidelines. It’s never happened to me with any other woman. Or man, for that matter. Only you.”
She rested her head against his chest. “That’s not a body-snatcher, sweet pea.”
“No?” He stroked her hair away from her face.
“That’s you acting on your instincts. You’re not used to it, so I’m sure it feels weird,” she said. “Not to me, though. I watch myself say and do unexpected things all the time, even when I intend to feign respectability.”