by D. Kelly
Single - Author Lyra Parish
The Vanilla Bet - Author Ella Emerson
Just an Illusion - Author D. Kelly
Oh. My. God, I thought as Mr. Sex-on-legs leaned in and nibbled on my bottom lip like we were lovers. Though we've talked for weeks through a messaging service on an online dating site, tonight was the first time we had met in person, and I was sure it would be the last. Yes, the last. This decision wasn't made because Alex was boring or bad looking—he was far from either. I decided this because of the rules I’d set in place to ensure that there would be no sort of relationship in my future.
With a raspy voice full of sex appeal, he said all the right things to progress the inevitable, and he was confident about it. Whether what he said was truth or lies, I didn't care. My intentions were purely physical, not to learn every detail about him or fall in love. That wasn't possible anyway. Love was an emotion that took time, an investment, and I didn't believe in love at first sight. It always seemed like a silly concept to me. Love is a complicated emotion within itself. Add the first-sight bullshit to love, and I become completely lost on the subject.
As I sat there listening to Alex talk in depth about architectural design, a thought crossed my mind: I didn't know if Alex was actually his real name or not, and if it wasn't, then the playing field was even—because I didn't give him mine. There were rules to the game of potential one-night stands in the Internet dating world, rules that I followed religiously. I had a reputation to uphold, and there were too many stalkers and psychos around.
First rule: Never give your real name.
Second rule: Use the same fake name, so you won't forget who you are.
Instead of being Roxane VanBuren, the President of VanBuren Investments, tonight I was Katie, the girl who had one goal in mind. The girl who refused to talk about where she worked, and who also happened to love tequila and dirty martinis. Katie's favorite place to meet men she chatted with on the Internet was the Hilton Hotel Bar downtown. The location ensured there wouldn't be far to go if the night progressed into something else.
Third rule: Never bring men home.
It didn't take long for him to confirm that the night would be full of sex. A few drinks smothered with innuendoes, and we couldn't keep our hands and lips off of one another. After the last-minute booking of a room and the swipe of his credit card, we were stumbling through the hotel between kisses. Once inside the room, every single piece of clothing on our bodies disappeared from pure desire.
I ran my fingers through his blond hair as he pulled me closer to his strong body. Teeth grazed my neck, then he laid me down on the bed. Gently, his lips moved over my breasts. He flicked and nibbled on my nipple, then licked up my chest. I laughed because no one had ever licked from my belly button to my mouth before. No, definitely not.
We were ravenous for each other, and I wanted him to devour me with his tender touch and generous mouth. Before we went any further, Alex stood long enough for me to admire him. Muscles rippled down his stomach and his ass. Then he caught me staring and lifted an eyebrow as he quickly rolled a condom over his dick. Well, it was the best muscle on his body.
Fourth rule: Always have protection available. Safe sex is important.
Prepared. I love a man who is perpetually ready for his next adventure. Alex pulled me to the edge of the bed, and that was when I really noticed the dimple in his chin. Yes, a fucking dimple, and it was cute.
"That brown hair . . . are your eyes two different colors?"
I stopped kissing him. "Yeah. Green and brown."
"You are so fucking sexy, Katie," he whispered as he guided himself inside of me. Ready didn't fully describe how my body took him. It had been months since I felt that.
At first, he went slow. He gave me deep thrusts, long and hard. Out of nowhere, as if he switched bodies with a virgin, he was in and out so quickly that I thought it was a drive-by sex session to see how quick he could fuck. In and out. In and out. In and out. Over and over, again and again.
I felt like I had been pranked. The foreplay was amazing, but the actual act after the warm-up thrusts lacked in several areas. If I were to rate it, I'd say a strong two. I sarcastically moaned as I mentally counted in my head. My body desperately craved the release of an orgasm, but I wasn't even close. Actually, I was completely turned off.
Before I could even attempt to get myself there, he was bucking and moaning with his mouth wide open. "Oh. Oh. Uh. Uh. Uh. Oooooooooooh," he said, as he pushed a little deeper into me and finished his powerful orgasm, robbing me of mine.
I looked over at the clock on the table.
Five minutes.
It took him a total of five damn minutes before he came.
I sighed as he climbed off of me, tied the condom in a knot, then threw it in the trash. A huge smile filled the bastard’s face as he laid down completely satisfied. I wasn't sure if that really just happened or not. It was not supposed to happen like that. Both people were supposed to be satisfied.
"God, that was soooo good. Your pussy is perfection, Katie. That orgasm. Best one I've ever had," he said as I stared at the ceiling, trying to determine what the fuck just happened. Never in my life had someone fucked so fast that it left me speechless.
"Want to go for round two after I catch my breath?" he asked, then turned and looked at me.
I sat up in bed, wondering if he was fucking kidding. When I looked over at him, I realized he wasn't.
"Wait. Wait a damn second," I said.
"It was just as good for you, wasn't it?" He tried to pull me close to him so we could . . . wait for it— cuddle.
Fifth rule: No cuddling. It gives false hope and triggers emotions.
I pushed away from him and sarcastically laughed. It was almost hard for me to comprehend the absurdity of this situation. Obviously, he had not experienced the same five minutes of horrible sex that I just had, not by the smile on his face and the lingering hardness of his dick.
"No. Just, no. Actually, I think that was the worst five minutes of my life. I didn't even come. I wasn't even fucking close." I stood, exasperated by the fact that he wanted me to experience that again. I shook my head, and searched for every piece of clothing that I had quickly removed ten minutes prior, then grabbed my high heels and slipped them on.
"I thought you had. You were just so tight."
I wanted him to choke on every word I had said. After another moment, he finally understood what had taken place. "Hey, it was longer than five minutes. Let me make it up to you. Round two," he pled.
"Not happening. And just a pointer—fucking isn't a race. Next time, when some other idiot decides to fuck you, which I can guarantee will not be me, try to go for the marathon session and make sure she actually gets off. It makes you look like a selfish asshole, otherwise. Women don't like that."
"And you . . . well, you're being a bitch."
"Not the first time I've been called that, and I'm sure it won't be the last." I glared at him as I zipped my skirt. If looks could kill, he would have disintegrated instantly. Without taking a glance back at him, I slammed the door and walked furiously to the elevator. I stepped inside with hopes of forgetting what just happened, but somehow I couldn't. The images of him fast-fucking me were already replaying in my mind.
Dammit.
Two weeks ago, when we started chatting online, or even two hours ago, when we first met in person, I never suspected he would be the one to deliver me the most regretful sex of my entire life. He said all the right things, had a little swagger, a nice ass, and a fit body. What a waste of a good-looking man. No wonder he was single.
From that point on, I was convinced that there would always be something wrong with people who searched for love, or even just sex, online. So, I needed to figure out my issue and fix it, otherwise, my future might be doomed to speed racers.
When I got home, I took a shower with hopes of removing the entire situation from my body. After I lay down in bed, I slipped my hands down be
low and tried to relieve myself . . . but I couldn't. Frustrated both physically and mentally, I tried to force myself to sleep, deprived of the stress-relief that sex delivered and that I desperately craved.
Eventually, I would learn that playing with lust was like playing with fire; sometimes one got burned, while other times, one just enjoyed the warmth. Tonight, I was scorched.
Before I fell asleep, I pulled out my phone and texted my best friend, Stacey.
Me: I'm officially giving up on men. I'm done.
There was no reply.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22375043-single-volume-1
Lyra Parish loves to write, glamp, and sing obnoxiously loud at the top of her lungs in the shower. Sweet love stories (along with the dirty ones) make her gush. She is a firm believer that a person can never have too many cups of coffee, cats, or happily ever afters. When she isn't busy writing, she can be found sipping various beverages from her non-alcoholic drink buffet, pimp slapping excel spreadsheets, or riding her bike. Lyra lives in Texas with her glassblowing, guitar-playing hubby and black cat named Nibbler.
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TSU
Chapter 1
TRACE
College, the last pit stop before being thrust into a world of forced responsibility. A world where senseless partying is frowned upon and getting up early is mandatory. College life is easier, more exciting, and less stressful. “We need to get you ready to take over the company, Trace.” My father likes to say. Hell bent on training me to become president of Weston Enterprises, I resist and want to stay in college forever, partying.
Speaking of parties, that’s where I am right now. A college party filled with alcohol, and smoking-hot girls. Craig’s house is in the exquisite Palm Beaches and overlooks the Atlantic Ocean. Nestled in the heart of South Florida where kids grow up with trust funds folded in designer wallets. The women with fake tans, fake noses, and other fake body parts walk dogs in strollers and kids on leashes.
The music pumps, and people crowd the table as I enjoy a friendly game of poker. Well, it started out friendly and now has turned into something different. Seth and I are in on this hand as everyone has folded. Losers, all night the same shit, I get a good hand and everyone folds. I glance at the cards one more time, pocket tens. The flop shows the other two tens, and a jack of spades. A four of a kind is a great hand to hold in poker. I’m a confident guy, so I’ll take my chances and continue. Across the room, I spot Hailey with long brown hair and sex in her eyes. She and I hook up, occasionally. She dances with friends in a short black dress and killer high-heels. I smile and return my attention to the game.
Turning to Seth, with his big shit-eating grin, I move a few chips onto the pile. Craig laughs, “Come on Trace, you ain’t got nothin’.”
“Shut the hell up, Craig” I say, chugging my beer.
I’ve known Craig for a few months, but he irritates me. It may be the fact he is an asshole, but it’s his house so I play nice.
Seth grins, hell he may have something. Still confidence won’t let me back down, or maybe it’s pride? Seth runs a hand through his wavy blonde hair as the crease in his forehead deepens. Light brown eyes peruse the cards in his sweaty hands. With a new stroke of assurance, I throw more chips onto the pile. Seth follows suit with his inability to back down from a challenge either. Darren shrugs, “Perhaps he has a full house?”
I stare past Darren to Hailey on the dance floor. She smiles then ducks her head to her friend’s ear as they giggle. I focus, waiting for the last card to flip. Right before Craig flips it over, Seth eyes me up, “Hey wanna make this interesting? How about a side bet?”
I watch as Hailey grinds her body on the dance floor- could she be any sexier? My hand brushes through my thick dark hair, I smile. “Sure, what do you got in mind?”
“If I win, then you have to umm,” he glances around the party as his smile spreads. “See that girl over there?” He points to a girl on the other side of the house, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed over her chest. She wears a tight red mini-skirt and a white shirt. The shirt has sparkles across the front that highlight her big blue eyes. She is in a deep discussion with a lanky blonde guy.
“No, never seen her.” I glance back to Seth.
He chuckles, “Well, if I win, you and her have to have a vanilla relationship.”
“Vanilla relationship, what’s that?” I ask.
Craig pipes in laughing, “It’s a real, normal relationship. You know the opposite of your usual one night stands.”
The sweat thickens on my upper brow- can he be serious?
“You’re kidding right? Besides looks like she’s taken.” I jab a finger to the guy with her.
“No, she’s not. Trust me.” Seth says.
“Trust you, yeah right. How do you know she isn’t dating that jerk-off?” I shift in the chair and glance at the cards one more time.
“Because she’s in a class of mine, they’re friends. Only for a month, a month long vanilla relationship. That’s easy.” Seth says.
“And if I win?” I ask.
“Well, what do you think?” Seth shrugs his shoulders.
“How about a P.A?” I laugh, knowing he will never agree to it.
“P.A. what is that?” He chuckles.
“Prince Albert.”
Craig spits out his beer, throwing his head back in laughter. “It’s a freaking piercing in your dick.”
Seth bites back in anger, “I know what a Prince Albert is. Why are the stakes so high?”
“Hey man, the bet was your idea.” I remind him. I’m positive that by this time tomorrow Seth will be in the worst pain ever.
He picks up a few chips and mulls over the bets, a sly smile spreading across his chiseled face.
Both Darren and Craig sit statuesque while Seth and I never break eye contact.
I have four of a kind; there is no way I’m losing. I glance across the room, back to the girl leaning against the wall; a relationship with her wouldn’t seem bad. She is pretty, long blonde hair, nice body- but a month, damn. I turn sideways in the chair to gain better access; studying her features, I can tell she isn’t pleased. She fights with the tall kid who grabs her by the shoulders. I’m half-tempted to walk over there and hit him, I jerk back in the chair as the need to defend her shocks me. Who is she?
Seth reiterates the challenge, “So let me get this straight, I win, you date her. I lose I have to get a Prince Albert, right?”
“Yep.” A hearty chuckle burst from my lips.
It’s as if the music stops, and everyone in the room ceases to exist. Seth and I don’t break the bond with our eyes, knowing the stakes are huge. I never back down from a bet, I am more than confident I won’t lose. Grabbing my beer, I lean over to Seth, “We doing this?”
Seth looks worried, and for a moment, my confidence grows. The best he may have is a full house, but that doesn’t beat a four of a kind. Seth looks back over to blondie then glances down to his crotch and grins, “Ok. Turn the last card.”
Craig flips over a queen of spades. Now I am sitting with four of a kind, queen high. I got this. Darren and Craig are afraid to breathe, glancing at Seth, who looks as though he just won the lottery. Fuck, what does he have? The air thickens as I try to swallow the last of my now warm beer. The cards show my four of a kind. Seth releases a deep breath and flips the cards over to show his ace and king of spades. Kill me, I just lost.
I just fucking lost.
My anger builds like a volcano threatening to erupt. I take a deep breath and with one hand sling the cards towards Seth. His grin is killing me, a
nd I want so badly to punch something, a fucking royal flush. That never happens. How could that happen? I bolt up knocking the chair to the ground and push the chips across the table. Craig and Darren sit frozen watching my rage unfold. Seth smirks, “Hey, calm down. Your new girlfriend is Vanessa,” he says, pointing back to the girl against the wall, “You’d better get started.” He erupts into laughter and shakes his head.
Running my hands through my hair all I see is red. I take a quick glance back at Vanessa. She is staring at me- well everyone is staring after the spectacle I’ve made. Our eyes meet, and in this moment, I spot something in hers, curiosity? With a half-smile, I walk over to Hailey dancing in the short black dress. I snake an arm around her waist, “Want to get outta here?”
Her eyes light up with fire and she smiles.
“Let’s go, now.” I say, motioning towards the door. With a glimpse to the blonde in the red-hot mini-skirt. I leave with Hailey, in the killer black dress, who’s been eye-fucking me all night.
On the way to her apartment, she runs a hand along my thigh. The smell of flowers and cheap perfume, works its way through my Jeep, causing a headache. She asks me why I was so angry earlier and I mumble about losing on a great hand of poker. This answer seems to suffice, and her mouth remains shut for the rest of the way.
We enter the apartment, a typical college girl’s hideout. Pink frilly things and books are everywhere, and a nice flowery couch sits in the living room. She offers me a drink and I shake my head. I grab a hold of her as we enter the room. We make our way over to the wooden framed bed, kicking off shoes. She leans in to kiss me, “I have wanted you all night.”
I know.
Long brown hair tangles around my fist and I lean in to claim her lips. My other hand runs down her sweet body, and she rushes to get her panties off, good fast and quick - so I can get out of here. I’d wanted this earlier, but I can’t stop thinking of Vanessa now. Pouty pink lips, long blonde hair, and the way she saw me- as if she were staring into my soul.