by Brill Harper
“We have something more than that,” he says, palming my shoulders.
My vision swims. “We do?”
Do we?
Dane nods, squeezing me like he’s afraid I’m going to disappear. I haven’t dared to hope but can’t deny that I want him to feel something for me. There are so many reasons why we shouldn’t be compatible, but nobody else has ever made me feel so alive, so sexy, and so willing to disregard everything I know about men and take a chance on the impossible.
I swallow the ball of fear rising up my throat. “What do we have?”
“We have sexual chemistry,” he answers.
Sexual. Chemistry.
This time, the chisel punches a hole right in my heart. It’s my own fault. I knew better than to let him matter. He’s right. We have sexual chemistry. And that is all we have.
Something breaks inside me. What? Did I really think that the girl next door was going to bring Mr. Virile to his knees? Did I believe that my small-town values could somehow sway the urban legend to settle down and paint the picket fence with me? Is that what I even want?
I need to take my own advice or maybe stop giving it all together. What do I know about relationships? My last relationship had seemed healthy enough until I realized that I never felt sparks on my tongue when I kissed my almost-fiancé.
Only with Dane.
Well, hell, who am I to argue with science? If all I’m going to get out of this is hot, sexual chemistry, maybe it’s time to warm up the Bunsen burner.
I give a fleeting thought to changing into something more seductive but remember his reaction to the sheep and let that worry go. The one that holds on a little more stubbornly is doubt that I can please him. Logically, I could argue, he’s been viscerally attracted to me since day one. But logic doesn’t always apply when a girl is stepping out of her comfort zone. Nobody has ever made me feel as hot for sweaty sex as Dane does. What if I’m simply not enough woman for him? I accept the fact that he will never love me, but damn if I’m going to let him out of this house without remembering me forever.
“What is going on in that head of yours?” he asks, and I realize he’s been waiting for a response for some time.
I move my hands to the waistband of his button-fly jeans, but don’t drop my gaze. I tugged the top button free. “What do you mean?”
Dane swallows. “I saw bunch of emotions pass over your face. One after the other.” He breaks eye contact first and looks down at my busy hands. “What’s going on here?”
“The girl next door is in the mood to break a rule or two. Wanna come along?” My hands slide from his fly to his back, and I smooth over the tightening muscles.
“I thought you were mad at me.”
I lift one shoulder in a shrug.
“What kind of rules are we talking about here? Rules like waiting for seven dates?”
“That’s one...” I stand on tiptoe and bite his earlobe gently after I whisper, “But maybe not the only rule I’m ready to break...”
I bring my hands to his chest under his T-shirt again, stroking the soft, short hair. Enjoying the way his heart rate speeds up under my palms.
“Holly—”
I graze a nipple with my fingernail, and he trembles a little. Good.
God his skin is so hot.
“Holly—”
“Dane, shut up and kiss me.”
He grips my hips, tugging me to him as he dips his tongue into my mouth. Against my stomach, I feel him swell, lengthening and hardening in preparation to break any rule I ask him to. I reach into his now-open jeans for my prize.
“Jesus,” he murmurs against my mouth as I run my hand up and down his shaft. “You’re going to kill me. I feel like I’ve wanted you forever. How is that even possible when I’ve only known you for a couple of weeks?”
The weight of him is heavy in my hand, and I focus on that instead of his words. I don’t want to hear pretty sentiments right now, not when I know I’m going to say goodbye to him after this.
I have to.
I step back, leaving his hard cock for the moment, and catch his hot gaze with a sultry one of my own. At least I hope it’s sultry. I’m feeling a little out of my depth here. Keeping him in my sights, I lower my hand and begin slowly unbuttoning the top of my pajamas. I hope I don’t look ridiculous as I try to tease him with peeks of skin beneath the stupid flannel sheep.
Dane is transfixed. He wants me. God, he wants to devour me. He stares at the valley of naked flesh between the panels of my shirt like it’s his first look at a woman. I turn, smile coyly over my shoulder, and lower the shirt inch by tantalizing, please let it be tantalizing, inch. When it rests in the crooks of my elbows, and I’m bared to mid-back, I see the change in his eyes.
“You’ve had your fun, Holly. I hope you’re ready to face the consequences of breaking the rules.” He hooks a hand in the top of the shirt and yanks it to my wrists, gently binding my arms behind my back. He turns me to him and smiles like the devil before he cups one breast and brings his mouth down.
I cry out when he sucks at my nipple greedily. The wet heat of his mouth and the slight scrape of his teeth shoots arrows of lust from my breast to the apex of my thighs.
“You like that, sweetheart?”
My back bows, arching and offering him my breasts, silently begging him to never stop. Please, never, never stop. The shirt constrains my arms, frustrating me, but Dane lavishes attention on my other breast and I forget I have arms. He strokes and caresses my breasts, my stomach, and I’m melting under his skilled touch. It seems my whole world is pooling at my center.
I shake my arms free just as he goes to his knees. Dane watches my face as he slowly lowers the bottoms of my pajamas. With expert hands, he strokes from my ass down the back of my legs, all the way to my ankles and back, all while staring into my eyes. My legs tremble beneath his touch, and he plants a kiss on my stomach. And then lower, and lower, and lower until he kisses me intimately where all the nerves in my body currently lead.
I won’t be able to stand it long. Not while his lips and tongue plunder, seeking, delivering crushing kisses and teasing caresses. “So fucking good,” he says between licks. He holds my bottom tightly in his big hands, and then he rolls my clit with his tongue.
I buck against his face.
“Oh yeah,” he murmurs. “Let go, sweetheart, let it all go.” He’s actually slurping me now and it’s so lewd and so lustful I buck harder. “Oh baby, come all over my face.”
And I do. As one peak subsides, he brings me to another with his mouth. I cry out his name and who knows what else as the pleasure stretches me taut and then leaves me boneless. If he hadn’t just picked me up, I’d have melted onto the floor. Instead, I find myself being whisked into my bedroom as if I weigh nothing.
“You’re still dressed,” I say while he lowers me to the mattress.
“Not for long.” Reaching behind him, he pulls the shirt over his head in one fluid motion. I rise to my elbows to watch him take the rest off. He really is something else. A dream man come to life. Dane pulls out his wallet and tosses it on the bed next to me. “Condom,” he orders while shucking off his jeans.
“So bossy.” But I get the condom out anyway, holding it palm up.
Dane cups the back of my head and brings his face down close to mine so that I am trapped in his gaze. “You haven’t begun to see bossy yet. I’m going to fuck you, Holly. I’m going to make you cry and moan and beg. I’m going to pay you back for every moment of desperation you’ve put me through. If you can walk after I’m done with you it will be a miracle.”
Nobody has ever talked like this to me before. I love it. “Tell me more,” I say, reaching for his cock, enjoying the way it pulses when I touch it. It’s already like stone, but it continues to harden, proudly pointing at me.
Dane groans a sound from deep in his chest. “Tell you more? Oh baby, I’m going to show you more. God that feels amazing.” He hasn’t let go of the back of my head, but his
other slides down between the slick folds of my sex. “You are amazing.”
I shiver, already banking towards another climax as he sweeps his fingers over my clit.
“I want more of that sweet pussy, Holly. Should I make you come again on my hand before I give you my hard cock? Yeah, I think I should.” He teases my clit with his thumb and presses a finger inside me. “You’re so tight. And so fucking wet. My cock is going to slide right in, isn’t it?”
“Dane,” I groan as he brings me to another orgasm as he knows my body so well already.
“You’re so fucking hot. You might have fooled the whole world with your sweet girl next door face, but I see the naughty girl. You’re so bad. So good at being bad, aren’t you?”
I don’t have the mental capacity left to deal with the packaging, so he takes the condom from me, tearing it open with his teeth like some kind of primal beast. Something deep inside me responds with a Hell, yes! Bring it on. I throw myself back on to the mattress and submissively wait for him to begin his ravishment.
He’s on me, in me, so quickly that the invasion shocks us both. He pauses as my body relaxes to accommodate him, to stretch around his impressive size. It doesn’t take long before my hips are rocking to bring him closer.
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he orders, and when I do, he plunges deeper inside me. His head snaps up and his gaze shoots to mine, trapping me again. It’s too much, too intimate, but when I try to break the connection, he orders, “Keep your eyes on me.”
He’s in my head as much as he’s in my body. God help me if it’s too late to get him out of my heart.
He withdraws and then drives into me again, harder still. Each thrust brings him deeper until I’m mindless as he moves within me faster and faster. Each thrust of his body tortures me even as it pleasures. I’ve never known a hunger so dark.
“Your pussy feels like heaven.” He’s pumping deep inside me now, riding me on the edge of coming again. He rears back violently, his whole-body clenching, his muscles seizing. He’s holding back his climax, and I want to see him lose himself to me. To forget his reputation, his lovemaking skills. I want him panting and unable to control himself, so I squeeze my inner muscles tightly. “Fuck me harder. I want you to come inside me.”
“You’re killing me,” he groans.
“I need it, Dane. I need your come.” He’s swelling even more now, and I can feel myself tighten around him.
“You’re going to get it, sweetheart.” He throws my legs onto his shoulders and I can feel every inch of him even deeper.
“Oh God.”
“You love my dick, don’t you? Do you crave it as much as I crave you, sweetheart? I’ve been dreaming about being inside you. Filthy dreams. I dream about sliding into your mouth while you moan around me like I’m that damned French toast. I dream of you drinking my cum, swallowing all of me.” His words hypnotize me as he clutches my butt and angles impossibly deeper. He’s rubbing on the G-spot I didn’t even know for sure I had. “Would you enjoy swallowing all my cum, naughty girl? I bet you would. I dream of taking your ass, too.”
Pleasure explodes inside me and I come so hard I see stars. He hisses as he savagely grabs my hips and pistons into me over and over, chanting my name like a prayer. I hit my head on the headboard when he plunges one last time, and the near feral tremors of his body rock me to another climax and into the edge of oblivion.
AMA with Mr. Virile
DEAR MR. VIRILE,
I’m worried that I am too loud in bed. I can’t help it. Do guys care?
Signed,
Aurally Sensitive
~*~
DEAR AURALLY,
Most men love to hear a turned-on woman. And they feel like they are doing their job well when it’s our name, or God’s, on your lips. I know that it’s commonly accepted that men are visually stimulated...but haven’t you seen us drool over sub-woofers too? The best sex is uninhibited sex, so stop worrying and let yourself go.
Yours,
Mr. Virile
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dane
I’M NOT A CUDDLER. I usually give myself ten minutes, tops, to stay in bed after sex. Right now, my arm is asleep, her bed is too soft, and my dog probably has to go out after eating all the rich doughnuts. Yet, I don’t want to move because Holly feels...good.
Really, really good.
Like fanfuckingtastic.
I’d like the opportunity to go for round two because, while the sex was amazing, I know I can do better. It was all very rushed and chaotic, which is to be expected since I never wanted, but not gotten, sex for that long before. But Holly was probably expecting more, given my reputation. I want to make sure she is good and satisfied, and also, I want back inside her more than I care to admit.
I’m usually more in control during sex. In control of myself, of my partner, of the pace. Holly brings out something else in me. She makes me feel savage.
She shifts in my arms, and I watch her face as she comes awake. She is beautiful, really. There are probably more poetic ways to say it, but the warm, unfamiliar sensation in my chest distracts me from coming up with anything better.
She is simply beautiful.
Holly blinks a few times, surprised for that split second to find me in her bed.
“Wow,” she says.
“Yeah.” I brush a lock of fire from her brow. “I was about to wake you. I’m a little concerned that I shouldn’t let you sleep too long in case you have a concussion.”
She crinkles her nose, scrunching up those adorable freckles, and then remembers when she rubs the top of her head. “Oh, yeah. The headboard.”
I want to freeze time. Everything at this very moment feels perfect, preordained almost. And if I let myself think about it too hard, it will ruin the moment, so I try to shut off my brain.
Holly, on the other hand, rolls away from me.
“Hey, where are you going?”
She is already stuffing her arms into the sheep shirt, which is inside out. “I have a million things to do today.” She trudges across the room, stopping to plant a quick peck on top of my head. “Thanks for stopping by with breakfast. I need to get in the shower. Call me later?”
I can’t answer her. She didn’t actually give me the opportunity to answer. I hear the lock click on the bathroom door before I can so much as say, “What the hell?”
I growl while scooping up my clothes. Thanks for breakfast? Seriously?
I feel...used. And stupid. Like I’ve been reading a map upside down. This kind of thing is exactly the reason why I don’t want to get involved in relationships with women. You never can tell which way the wind is blowing. Holly accuses me of running hot and cold with her, but she is giving me fucking frostbite on top of third degree burns. And to think I thought maybe we had something special. Okay, so I didn’t actually tell her that. But I’m new at this kind of thing, and she is supposed to be all-knowing and wise, isn’t she? Surely, she should know that I might almost possibly want something to maybe work between us, right?
I slam my feet into my shoes, find my wallet, collect my dog, and pause with my hand on the knob of her front door.
How many times has a woman paused at my door like this? I’ve always been very clear that sex is a one-time thing—but hell, even I got caught in my own trap this time. Have I made other people feel this small? This insignificant?
I shake my head. No. I don’t feel any of those things. Because I got what I wanted from Holly, and I should be glad she’s being so accommodating and reasonable. Instead of turning a morning of good sex into some sort of commitment that neither of us want, like some women would, she enjoyed it for what it was. She didn’t cling or make more of it than that it was just good sex. Which was exactly what I wanted.
Isn’t it?
Thanks for breakfast indeed.
~*~
A WEEK LATER, I PICK up my phone and want to swear. Instead, I down my Scotch and signal the bartender for another.
Dammit. She isn’t returning my calls.
I gave her space. I sent her flowers. I texted quick thinking of you messages. I even resorted to commenting on one of her blog posts. She casually responded to me at first, but I’m forced to admit she is giving me the brush off now.
She’s fucking ghosting. On me. Mr. Virile.
I suppose it was to be expected. I couldn’t bat a thousand forever. There are bound to be women that just...get away. The lining of my stomach protests that thought as it mixes with the booze. It just bothers me because, before we slept together, we were friends. And now we are nothing.
What did she tell me on the phone the last time we spoke? Some bullshit nonsense about how she thinks I’m great, but she would have been a better match for Dante Martino than Dane Martin. What does that even mean?
I spot Holly’s agent, Mitch, at the other end of the bar. My first impulse is to go pump him for information. Subtly, of course. Like women do. But the closer I get, I realize that the guy looks rough, just sitting there and staring at the ice melting in his glass. Well, maybe I can do some good instead of moping tonight. I loosen my shoulders, go for the...what does Holly call it?... indolent slouch... I’m so famous for, the one that shows just how unconcerned I am about anything, and I swagger over to Mitch. Checking out the blonde in the fuck-me heels and the brunette in the halter dress along the way.
They check me out too. But I feel...not a whole lot. Damn. They are sending all the right signals, too. What is wrong with me?
I pull out the stool next to him. “Mitch.”
Mitch takes one look at me and snorts. “Perfect.”
I frown. Not really the reaction I was expecting. “You okay, man?”
“Not really, Mr. Virile. Not really.” He scrubs his hands across his cheeks, the stubble rasping lightly. “How do you do it?”