The Duets

by Quinn, Meghan

  Not wanting anything between us, I move my hand from her ribs to her G-string where I start working it down her legs. She helps me and then backs her ass into my crotch once again.

  “Fuck, that feels so good,” I whisper along her skin, nibbling on her shoulder, biting enough to cause her to grip the back of my neck, keeping me in place. I repeat the bite, this time a little higher along her neck.

  “Yes.”

  Running my hand up her side from her smooth hip to her ribs, I slide my palm up and over her breast, her hardened nipple, loving how the tip rubs against my fingers. Her hand wanders to my hair where she pulls on the short strands, straining for me to be closer, my cock slipping along her crack, up and down, up and down. The sensation causes me to bite down harder on her skin.

  And then realization sets in . . .

  “I don’t have condoms.” I hate myself right now.

  Breathing heavily, she says, “My canvas bag. I brought a box.”

  Thank fuck.

  Placing a kiss on her neck, I hop out of bed, find the box, and tear open a wrapper. I waste no time in rolling the condom over my aching cock. My eyes are glued to Rory’s pert ass. So round and lifted, it’s the finest ass I’ve ever seen . . . probably from all the classes she teaches.

  The finest ass I’ve ever seen.

  I slip in behind her and she situates herself against me, resuming position, but this time, she takes my hand and runs it up her stomach to her breast where she has me cup her. Leaning over her shoulder, I watch in fascination as my hand squeezes her tit, her rosy nipple hard, aching for my touch.

  “I need you in me, Colby.”

  “Are you wet?” I ask, my fingers pinching her nipple.

  “Yes,” she moans.

  I release her nipple and work my way to her other tit, squeezing it hard when I say, “Prop your leg up.”

  She does as I say, opening herself to me. “Do you want me to fuck you, Rory?”

  She pulls on my neck and buries her ass against me. “More than anything.”

  “Are you going to be loud?”

  “Do you want me to be?”

  Good answer.

  “Yes.” Stryder’s family is out for the day, and I couldn’t care less if Stryder hears us . . . or the neighbors for that matter. “Don’t fake it.”

  “Never.”

  Commanding her like she enjoys, I say, “Reach between your legs and find my cock. Now.”

  Wasting no time, she reaches between us and grips my cock. “Put it at your entrance.”

  I squeeze her nipple, causing her body to arch and her hand to pause. “Don’t make me wait.”

  Resuming her progress, she places the head of my cock at her entrance. “You want me inside you? You want to feel how thick I am? You want to know what it feels like to have me bottom out inside you?”

  “Yes,” she moans, her hips lightly pulsing, bouncing up and down on my tip.

  I bite her earlobe and slowly work my way inside her. So fucking tight.

  “Oh God, Colby. Oh my God, you’re so . . .”

  Shit, this angle isn’t good.

  “On your stomach.” When she doesn’t move right away, I pinch her nipple and say, “Now, Rory.”

  A wave of wet hits me before she slips to her stomach, my cock falling out of her. I move to get behind her and tilt her pelvis up in the air, her glistening center begging for me.

  Goddamn. So sexy.

  Wanting—needing—a sweet taste, I tilt her pelvis up even higher and lick across her slit. Her moans are drowned in the sheets, her hands grip the bedding, and her knuckles turn white. I take another swipe, and another, and another until she’s dripping. Fuck, she tastes so good. I press down on her clit with the tip of my tongue, holding it there for a few seconds before I flick it at a rapid pace, sending her right over the edge, her moans echoing through my head.

  I can’t wait any fucking longer.

  Gripping her hips, I flip her to her back, watch how her breasts beautifully jostle with the movements, her hair wild and floating over her face, and then I take her hands in mine, linking us.

  “Spread your legs.”

  She’s still panting, but they fall open on my command. I slip inside her, her hands squeezing mine with every inch I take until I’m fully inside, her walls narrow, my cock aching, throbbing.

  “Look at me, Rory.” Her eyes open, those greens connecting with my browns, sweet and innocent mixing with my dark and battered.

  I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her, letting the world melt around us, the passion consume us. My hips thrust in and out, our hands never let go, and our tongues get lost in each other.

  It’s sensual, sexy, rough with the pace my hips are going, but also sweet because of the addictive sounds escaping her.

  I delve into her mouth even more, not letting up, the burning need I have to consume her completely owning me.

  I pump faster, my balls smacking against her, her aroused cries filling the silence, until I feel her walls start to clamp down on my cock, her mouth falling open even more.

  “Oh God, Colby, oh . . . I’m going to come.”

  “Fucking . . . come,” I grunt out as she digs her nails into the backs of my hands, her screams heedless of who can hear, her body thrashing, her hips working my cock, seeking out the end of her orgasm just as mine rips through me.

  Eyes squeezed shut, I still inside her, my dick pulsing as I come hard with her pussy still clenching around my cock.

  Never has it been like this. Never have I felt this consumed, this taken by a woman.

  Opening my eyes, I glance at her and see the sweetest of smiles crossing her face. I lean down and press a kiss to her lips, lingering, molding our mouths but keeping the kisses simple, nothing too aggressive. She reaches up and traces her fingers across my eyebrows down to my chin. On a whispered breath, she says, “Colby . . . that was—”

  “Fucking heaven.” She nods her head, and the look of awe and wonder is something I’ve never seen before. Only her.

  I reluctantly pull away to dispose of the condom, but then I make my way back to the bed where I pull her into my chest. Her giggle sparks something inside my heart, something I’ve kept subdued for years. Pure happiness.

  She makes me truly happy. Rory, this girl, has found my happiness again.

  Not a plane.

  Not an acceptance into flight school.

  Nothing.

  Just Rory, and I’m holding on to this feeling for as long as I can.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  RORY

  I put the paper plates in the trashcan and send Stryder on his way to take the cake to the house to give us some privacy again. We spent the last two hours with his friends, joking around, talking about the pranks they’ve played on each other at the academy, and the good times they’ve shared over the past few years. Colby held on to me the entire time, cradling me against his chest, occasionally pressing kisses against my neck or whispering something in my ear.

  His attention didn’t escape his friends and when they ribbed him, he didn’t care, he just held on to me tighter.

  Colby is in the bathroom when Stryder stops me at the door, cake in his hands. “Thanks for doing this for him, Rory. I don’t think I’ve seen him this happy in a long time.”

  “I’m glad he was okay with having you guys over. And he makes me happy too.”

  He nods his head, looking down at the floor. “I’m glad. You guys were made for each other.”

  “Is everything okay, Stryder?” I know Colby said Stryder didn’t make it into flight school, and I’m wondering if that has anything to do with it. He seems weary.

  “Yeah. I’m good.” But he doesn’t look like he’s good.

  “I’m here for you if you ever need to talk, Stryder.” I press my hand against his shoulder.

  His eyes land on my hand where they linger for a second before pulling away, a hint of pain in his expression. Looking back into the pool house, he says, “Have a good Chr
istmas, Rory and take care of my boy.” With a wink, he heads toward the main house, his powerful body making its way down the sidewalk.

  Confused, I turn back to the room where Colby is washing his hands. When he makes eye contact with me, he motions with his finger for me to come closer. Pushing other thoughts to the side, I shut the door and move across the room and into Colby’s arms. He brings me onto the bed where we lie down, facing each other. He links our hands together and props up his head with his other hand.

  “Thank you for today.”

  “Of course. I’m glad you let me spend it with you.”

  His brow creases. “Why wouldn’t I let you spend it with me?”

  I bring his hand to my mouth and kiss his knuckles. “Stryder said you like to spend this day alone, reading your book.”

  He looks off to somewhere behind me. “Did he say anything else?”

  I shake my head. “No, just that it’s not your favorite day.” I want so badly for him to open up to me, just give me a little more of him. “Can I ask you what happened?”

  Sighing, he lies flat on his back, looking at the ceiling, his gaze pensive, and his body stiff beside me. I can see the tension starting to pulse inside him, the way his biceps flex, the clench in his jaw, the way he’s turning away from me.

  I don’t want that. I don’t want him to turtle in on himself and then ask me to leave. I don’t want to push too hard, too soon.

  “You know what? Never mind.” I wrap my arm around his waist getting close again. “You don’t have to say anything, let’s just—”

  “My dad died on my birthday.”

  I still.

  Oh God. How awful.

  Caught off guard by his willingness to open up, it takes me a moment to piece together what he just said.

  His dad died . . . on his birthday.

  “Oh Colby, I’m so sorry.”

  He doesn’t move; he doesn’t even flinch when I press a kiss to his jaw.

  “He had mantel-cell lymphoma, he was doing bad for a while, but I never expected for him to pass away on my birthday . . . or to find out that for six months, my mom had been cheating on my dad with his doctor.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut, my heart bleeding for the little boy who lost his father; the little boy who had to deal with such hardship. And betrayal.

  “He moved in a week later. I had one week to mourn. My mom got rid of all my dad’s stuff, throwing it into the trash, and moved Ted in immediately.”

  “Ted. Is that . . . is that the guy you talked about in your letters?”

  “Yes.”

  It’s one word, but it holds the weight of the world—the anxiety, the hurt and the pain Colby has experienced is confirmed with that one small word.

  “He was awful. He ruled with an iron fist, literally. Never missed an opportunity to abuse me, mentally and physically.”

  “He hurt you?” I ask, tears welling in my eyes, my inability to get any closer to Colby frustrating me. “What did your mom do?”

  “Nothing. She did absolutely fucking nothing. She needed him, I knew that’s why she latched on because the medical bills wiped us clean and my grandpa could only help for so long. Instead of working, she clung to Ted and his wallet. There was a small point in time where my mom told him he couldn’t hit me anymore but that was short-lived, thank fuck.”

  “What? Why? You wanted to get hit?”

  “It was better than him breaking and ripping apart every last model airplane I built with my dad and grandpa.”

  I . . . I don’t even know what to say to that. My heart shatters right before me, tears falling from my eyes, the image of Colby as a little boy upset over his plane digging an irreparable hole in my heart.

  “I’m . . . I’m so sorry.” I kiss his cheek, then his jaw, and work my way to his lips. He holds me there, his hand on the back of my head, seeking comfort.

  When I pull away, I look at him, his eyes full of water, his shame plastered to his face.

  “He ruined my childhood. He tried to make me forget my dad every day. He separated my grandpa from me as much as he could, beat me until I blacked out, and taunted me whenever he got the chance.” Colby’s voice shakes. “You’re never going to be a pilot. You’re not good enough. You’re not smart enough. You’re a fucking little bitch without a single hope for a good future.” He pauses. “He tried to break me. He tried to ruin me. He tried desperately to ruin my dreams, but I didn’t let him.”

  I shake my head, more tears spilling. “You’re so strong, Colby. Not many people could turn out the way you did with a background like that. You’re exceptional.”

  “I wanted to prove him wrong. I still need to earn the privilege to fly a fighter.” Colby’s letter registers in my head. His biggest fear, hitting me harder now than before.

  “And you did, so you should be proud of yourself.”

  He slowly nods, wrapping his arm around me again, his hand twirling a strand of my hair, the tension in his body starting to dissipate with every breath he takes.

  “I still have challenges ahead of me. I still need to be chosen to fly a fighter, but I’ll do anything it takes to make that happen. I will show him how his attempt to break me only made me stronger.”

  His strength, his confidence, his energy . . . I have absolutely no idea how he overcame such adversity. I’ve never met someone like him. So . . . awe-inspiring. But his strength is also so sexy. He deserves each moment of glory he will receive in the future. And I want him to know that. I need him, and that need is so strong, it's as if I can't go another moment without him inside me.

  Lifting my body over his, I straddle his lap and take off my shirt, followed by my bra. He moans and then sits up, taking me with him, leaning against the headboard and bringing both of his hands to my breasts where he starts to massage them. I grip his face and place my mouth on his, demanding, the need to forget consuming me, the need to help him forget even stronger.

  Breaking apart, his lips travel down my chest to my breasts where he sucks my nipples into his mouth. “I want your birthday to be different,” I admit. “I don’t want it to be associated with or saddened by everything in your past.” I gasp when he bites down on my left nipple. “I want it to be enhanced by our beautiful future.”

  “You’re my future,” he says, working his way to my mouth. We stare at each other, a silent understanding passing between us. This pull, this electricity, it isn’t just lust. There is more between us than simply sexual desire.

  It’s the beginning.

  The beginning of something so great, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to let it go.

  * * *

  “Merry Christmas Eve,” I say into the phone, groggy and tired. I don’t think I’ll get used to these early morning phone calls from Colby.

  “Were you sleeping? I’m sorry, I thought you had a class today.” I turn over and look at the clock in my kitchen. Seven in the morning.

  “I have one in an hour. I guess it’s good you woke me up.” I stretch my arms above my head, incredibly sore from every which way Colby and I have had sex in the past few days. There was a family gathering with Stryder’s family last night, so I didn’t get to see him. Which is probably a good thing given how sore I am.

  “What are you wearing?” His voice is deep and playful, sending chills to all the right spots.

  “If I said nothing, will you hate me?”

  “I could never hate you.” He pauses. “Is it nothing?”

  The cool sheets caress my naked body, adding to the effect of Colby’s voice. “I took a shower last night and didn’t bother to put any clothes on after.”

  He’s quiet just as I hear heavy steps move up the stairway of my apartment. And then a knock.

  A smile is plastered across my face. “Are you at my door?”

  “Why don’t you find out?”

  “I’m not going to open the door if it’s not you. I’m naked.”

  “Open your door, Rory.”

  And that right there? Th
at’s what makes me go weak in the knees. I hang up the phone and scurry across my floor to the front door where I open it but keep my body blocked. Colby walks in with one thing on his mind . . . me.

  He shuts the door, locks it, and turns toward me, taking me in, his eyes burning a hole through me.

  He nods toward my bed and says, “Lie down.”

  I don’t even think twice. I lie on the mattress as Colby comes up behind me, pulling his shirt over his head, his abdomen flexing, his arms bulky and toned, ready to keep him firmly in place as he does wicked things to me.

  His perusal of me is dangerous, full of sensual promises. He loosens his belt buckle and undoes his pants, leaving them open. Then he drops to his knees and places both hands on my inner thighs, spreading them.

  Oh God.

  “I . . . I have work,” I say just to let him know whatever he has planned can’t be a fuck-a-thon.

  “I’ll get you off twice before you even have to think about getting ready.” With that, he presses his mouth against my arousal, and my head falls back to the mattress as his tongue works me up and down.

  I’ve had men go down on me before, but none have made me come the way Colby does; it’s like he shatters me into pieces and then puts me all back together at the same time.

  Moving his hands beneath my ass, he lifts me up to his mouth and plays with my sensitive clit.

  Sucking.

  Kissing.

  Licking.

  Flicking . . .

  “Oh yes, right there.” I still my hips as his tongue rapidly falls over the little bundle of nerves, creating a wave of pleasure that erupts through me. My veins heat, my stomach bottoms out, and my legs numb, becoming devoid of all feeling as he pushes me to the apex of my orgasm. And just like he came crashing in here, my orgasm hits me hard, bucking my hips against his mouth, my hands holding on to the sheets as euphoria spikes through my body.

  I can barely process what’s happening when he flips me over and I hear the sound of a wrapper being opened. Before I know it, Colby’s powerful body is hovering over me, his hands smoothing up and down my back until they grab my hips and prop them up.