by Harper James
“Heath,” I whisper-groan, shaking. “I think I’m going to come.”
I can’t believe I said “I think”, because that’s clearly what’s about to happen, and yet the orgasm I feel pounding in my core is unlike anything I’ve felt before. It’s not the earth-shattering orgasm I had last night, when his cock was in me. This one is steadier, growing more and more powerful with each heartbeat.
Heath releases my clit for a moment, and I whine in desperation. Just when I think I might resort to truly, truly begging, he laps at my pussy again, flicking my clit expertly with his tongue.
It undoes me, the punctuation point of my pleasure, and I moan loud and long and loud, my head rolling back and my arms giving out behind me. I fall back on Heath’s kitchen table, back arched, body contorting as an orgasm unlike anything I’ve felt before ripples from my pussy through my stomach, my arms, my fingers and toes, rendering every part of me useless as it does so.
I come to, panting, unsure how long I was oblivious to the world in my fit of pleasure. Heath is sucking on my clit still, but this time it’s gentler, like he’s easing me back to consciousness. My breathing steadies, and my legs collapse over his shoulders. I hear him make a satisfied sound against me, and then he rises.
“I love the way your pussy tastes, Karli. Promise me I can have it again.”
I mean to answer aloud, but I haven’t quite regained those faculties yet. I nod blissfully. Heath leans over my body and kisses me deeply, and I can taste myself on his lips.
“Now, I think you’re ready to be fucked,” he whispers to me.
I smile up at him. “Please.”
“Please what, Karli?” he toys with me, reaching down to my pussy. I gasp when he gently presses his thumb inside me, running it against my front wall, sending sparks flying through my bloodstream.
“Please fuck me, Heath,” I murmur. Heath massages my pussy for a few moments, until I’m writhing on him, and then withdraws. He pulls me to the end of the table, then turns me onto my stomach and sets my feet on the floor. I’m bent over the kitchen table, hair strewn across my face; I hear Heath rustling with a condom and arch my back, eager for what’s coming.
“Sweet girl,” Heath says from behind me, then lifts my arms up and places them over my head, holding them in place with one hand splayed across my crossed wrists. With his other hand, he slaps my ass, sending tingles up and down my legs, and I whine with desire. Heath massages the place where he likely left a hand print, then spanks me again, this time letting his fingers wisp along my slit as he does so.
“Please, Heath,” I beg, growing desperate to feel him enter me. I need him, and I need him now.
Heath growls, the sound deep and animalistic, and I moan as I feel the head of his cock line up with my entrance. He pushes into me, stretching at my pussy, and my moan becomes a wail of pleasure. Will he ever stop feeling so massive in me? His cock slides alone my pussy’s walls, and it feels like fireworks are exploding in my core. I thrash backward, trying to get more of him in me, but his hand on my wrists keeps me from making any progress. He’s in charge here, a fact that’s both incredibly sexy and incredibly frustrating.
Heath begins to give me more, fucking me a little harder, strokes a little longer, though I can tell he’s still not wholly inside me— despite the fact that he’s reaching new depths, that I feel so full of him that it doesn’t seem possible there could be room for another inch. He smacks my ass again as he fucks me, and I cry out his name, shameless and sweating and hungry for more. I feel myself growing close to an orgasm, and begin to pant as it sweeps through me—
“No, no, not yet, baby,” Heath says, and pulls out of me. I whine, loud and long, trying to scoot my ass closer to him so he can keep going. He spanks me in response. “Trust me.”
“I need more,” I pant, looking over my shoulder at him.
“You’ll get plenty more,” he says, then sits down in the chair at the kitchen table. He grabs my hands and pulls me toward him, until I’m straddling the chair, tiptoes on the floor keeping me just above his waiting cock. “Ride my cock, Karli. I want you to make us come together.”
I nod, licking my lips, unsure how I’ll manage this without taking all of him into me— which I want, but will it hurt?
“You’ll be fine,” Heath says— I guess he sees the worry on my face. “Put your knees here.” He lowers his hands to his sides, giving me a place to prop my knees so I have more control over the depth he sinks to. It does mean, however, that Heath will be more or less supporting my body weight while I’m on top of him.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“I told you to ride my cock, Karli,” he says sternly.
I smile despite my hesitation, then nod— I want to do what he tells me. I reach down and position his cock at my entrance, then meet his eyes. He groans as I slide down onto him, and I go almost faint at the sensation. I’ve never been in this position before, but my body tells me what to do. I place my hands on his shoulder and begin to pump up and down, moaning, trying each time to get him farther. I hold my breath and sink down as far as I can, whimper as I try for a little more, I little more— I want all of him.
“We’ll get there, baby,” Heath whispers in my ear.
“I want it now,” I complain, biting my lip.
“I know,” he says, then rocks his hips in a way that sends me spiraling into pleasure. I moan on him, dropping my head to his shoulder and as I begin to thrust against him again, riding him harder than before. He growls against me, pulls me closer and begins to grind back with his hips each time I sink onto his cock. There’s no stopping the orgasm building in me now—
“Heath,” I cry his name, though I’m not sure what I mean to say beyond that.
“Go on, baby,” he murmurs back, and his voice is choked. I realize that he’s seconds from orgasming too, and knowing that sends me over the edge. I cry out, thrashing backward as I let myself go, his cock buried deep in me, my fingers scratching at his back as I try to keep myself upright amid the lightening shooting through my body. Heath groans, loud and long, and grasps me tighter, pushing his cock yet farther in to me. I’m so tight around him that even through the condom, I can feel the pulse of him coming deep inside my pussy, the rhythm of it matching the racing beat of my heart.
I collapse against him and he holds me tight, even though I can tell that he’s also feeling suddenly weakened by the power of that shared orgasm. We pant together, catching our breath, glowing at how perfect that felt— to come at once. Heath kisses my temple and carefully lifts me up and off of his still-hard cock, setting me on the edge of the table. He drops his mouth to my lips, kisses me there gently.
“I’ve never had anyone like you, Karli,” he murmurs. “When are you going to tell me that you’re mine?”
I’m almost surprised— I hadn’t forgotten, exactly, that I promised to tell him the moment I was his, but it wasn’t an answer I realized he was still waiting on. Realizing this— and therefore, the power of the question and the answer— makes me nervous, though not in an unpleasant way. I want to feel so sure about Heath that I can tell him that and mean it. I want to be his…but I also know that I’m not just yet.
“Maybe you need more,” he says at my silence, then tilts my chin up so he can kiss me again.
“More?”
“More,” he says, then sweeps me into his arms and carries me to a back bedroom. He sets me on the bed, watching me for a moment, then says in a deep, husky voice, “I’m going to fuck you again, Karli. Are you ready for my cock?”
I can’t stop myself from smiling in anticipation, in want, in need. “Absolutely.”
Chapter 12
I know exactly where I am the next morning even before I open my eyes. How could I not? The scent of Heath’s body is in the air, dark and spiced and perfect. I turn over in the flannel sheets, hugging them to me against the chill in the air. I turn over again and finally open my eyes when I don’t find Heath in the bed with me.
It’s already bright outside, so it stands to reason that he’s been awake for ages given what he told me the morning after our first night together. I sit up and yawn, looking around at the bedroom.
I hadn’t noticed much about it last night, except that it was painfully sparse— the whole house was, if I remember correctly. In the daylight, I can see that it’s also clean. No layers of grime on the floor, no empty take out boxes. It almost has a hotel-like feel to it, except it’s also clearly an old cabin. There are no curtains or blinds on the windows, nothing to obstruct a truly magnificent view of the county’s last autumn leaves exploding like fireworks on rolling hillsides.
The world outside Heath’s house is as still and quiet at the world inside it. And, I suppose, those worlds also feign matching simplicity. Because this hotel-like house? It’s another reminder that Heath doesn’t really live here. Heath doesn’t really live anywhere, I suppose. How could you, when you’re always counting down days to the next deployment?
I hear movement outside the bedroom door and sit up. I don’t have any clothes in here, I realize— I took them all off in the car. I smile a little at the memory, then pull open the doors to the room’s tiny closet. It’s totally empty. Figures. I open a duffle bag by the bed and find Heath’s clothes inside; I remove a dress shirt so big it comes down to my knees, then put it on, not-so-secretly thinking how Heath might like to take it back off again.
There’s no mirror to check myself over in, so I have to hope for the best as I turn the knob and exit the bedroom. I pad down the hallway— the noise is coming from the kitchen. I smile again, thinking about Heath and I on the table, and then swing round the corner—
“Good morning— oh my god!” I shriek, because it’s not Heath shuffling around in the kitchen— it’s another man.
“Good morning indeed,” the man says, laughing at my expense. I leap back into the hallway, eyes wide, face quickly turning crimson.
“I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone— I thought you were Heath,” I stammer. “I didn’t know he had a roommate.”
There’s another laugh, and I dare to peer around the corner of the hall to see what’s going on. The man isn’t looking at me— he’s staring down at the frying pan of eggs he’s cooking. An unlit cigarette hangs from his mouth, and he’s shirtless. While he’s muscular and chiseled the same way Heath is, he’s also clearly a bit older; he has the tanned, lined look of someone who has spent far too long in the sun.
“I don’t know that he’d call me a roommate,” the man says, still without looking up. “He’s just run out to the car. He’ll be back.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“No problem.”
“I’m Karli,” I offer.
He laughs again, and this time there’s a real mockery in it that stings. “Oh, I know. I heard him yelling it last night.”
I didn’t think it possible I could get any redder, but here we are. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to stave off total humiliation, but it doesn’t work. Was this guy here the entire time? When Heath had me walk in completely naked, did he know someone else might see it? Did he want me to be seen? Ugh, maybe he wanted me to be embarrassed, maybe he’s into that and I just had no idea—
I hear the front door open, and a kiss of cold air hits me even in the hallway. I can tell it’s Heath returning by the sound of his footsteps. I press hard against the wooden wall, hurrying to figure out what I’m going to say to him, what I’m going to shout. But then he’s turning the corner, and practically crashing into me before I can even think of a decent opening line.
Heath looks down and realizes I’m wearing his shirt and nothing else; he smiles and tilts his head to the side, then reaches down and takes hold of the hem—
I slap his hand away.
Heath’s face contorts, first in anger, then in something akin to concern— not hurt, just concerned.
“You have a roommate? Who was here last night?” I whisper dangerously.
Heath’s eyebrows lift and he laughs loud enough that I know the guy in the kitchen heard. “Don’t worry about it,” he says.
“I am worried about it!” I snap, my whisper inching up the tiniest bit. “You should have told me! I don’t know what you’re into, but I didn’t say it was okay for some stranger to hear me or see me or—“
“Whoa, whoa,” Heath says, shaking his head. He hands me a small bundle of something in his left hand, and I realize it’s my clothing. “Calm down.”
“That is the absolute worst thing you can say to someone when they’re freaking out,” I growl, and snatch my clothing from his hands. I storm back to the bedroom to put them on. He doesn’t follow me, and when I finally emerge, sound and conversation tells me he’s sitting at the kitchen table— yes, that kitchen table— with the stranger.
I know I’ve got no choice but to face him and the breakfast-making-guy. It’s not like I could get out the door and get home if I didn’t. I fold my arms over my chest and walk out, eyes narrowed at the both of them.
It’s only when I see them side by side that I notice something— that they have the same color eyes. The same sharp angle of a chin, the same shield-shaped chest (though Heath’s is a little prouder and more upright).
“Karli,” Heath says, “Come on. Sit down. Besides, you ought to actually meet my father.”
I blink.
I blink again.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, not entirely meaning it to be said out loud. But there it is, my words floating in the air, and rather than apologizing or explaining, both Heath and the guy— Heath’s father— crack up.
I can feel myself reddening even further, something I didn’t even know was possible. To say that I’m furious would be the understatement of the century. I’m practically shaking— he brought me here, paraded me naked potentially in view of his father, didn’t tell me to keep my voice down, and is now acting like this is all some big joke?
“Fuck you, Heath,” I snap. “Where’s my purse? I’m calling Bella to come get me.”
This pulls Heath out of the humor, though it does little for his father. “Hang on,” he says hurriedly. “It’s just— people always think we’re roommates. That’s what we were laughing at, that people never know. Not at you.”
“You seriously think that’s the thing I’m mad about?” I fume. “This is humiliating! And if you’re into humiliating girls, fine, but get on the internet to find people for that then because I am not interested.”
“No, he wasn’t here,” Heath says, rising and coming toward me, waving his hands in front of his chest. “Seriously. Tell her, Vic.”
I’m a little surprised to hear Heath call his father by name, but surprise is a minor emotion compared to the storm in my chest right now.
“Yeah, yeah, I wasn’t. And look, baby, I didn’t hear him calling your name last night. He told me this morning.”
Heath groans and spins around. “Seriously, man? You told her you heard us?”
“I was just messing with you,” Vic says, still looking pretty amused by this entire thing.
“That’s fucked up,” Heath says, rolling his eyes at his dad. Vic gets up, still chuckling a little, and goes over to the fridge. He emerges with three cans of PBR, which he sets out on the table.
“Come on. Relax, both of you. Have a drink with me.”
“It’s not even noon,” I say coldly. “And I’m not in the mood.”
“Of course I figured you and Heath were bumping uglies. Beautiful girl comes out of his room wearing his clothes?”
I close my eyes and actually will myself to stop living at the term “bumping uglies”. I open my eyes. I guess I’m still alive.
“I want to go home,” I say to Heath, voice hard. “You can take me now, or I can call Bella. But I’m leaving.”
“I’ll take you,” Heath says quickly. “Come on.”
“Pleasure to meet you!” Vic calls out over his shoulder and weirdly enough, it actually sounds genuine— like this was a total
ly normal and totally acceptable way to meet someone. I smile back at him acidly and hurry to Heath’s SUV. I get in and curl myself away from the driver’s side, going so far as to basically press myself into the window when Heath joins me. He starts the engine in silence.
We’re halfway down his long driveway— in reverse, and at speed— when he says, “Look, me and my dad aren’t like most people and their dads. It’s not that big a deal that he knows we had sex.”
“Him knowing we have sex isn’t the problem,” I say through semi-gritted teeth. “You didn’t tell me he might be home. You didn’t mention anyone else was living there. You let me walk out and meet him looking like the worst kind of walk of shame. And then you both just laughed at me.”
“I shouldn’t have laughed,” Heath says after a moment, saying it like he both means it and just realized how his laughter might be a serious problem. “I thought you’d chill out when you realized how things work with me and him.”
“I don’t really care how things work. It was awful,” I say, grinding my jaw to keep from crying. The blinding anger I’d felt five minutes before manifesting itself as tears. I just need to get out of the car before they become legit and uncontrollable— which experience has told me is the inevitable conclusion.
“Listen,” Heath says, voice growing a little softer. “Honestly, I just didn’t think to mention him to you. I was sort of preoccupied last night with wanting you. And besides, I never even know if he’s coming home at night. Half the time he sleeps it off at a buddy’s house.”
I shrug, unable to speak without my voice quivering.
Heath continues, “My dad and I are basically service buddies, okay? We’re not like a play-catch-in-the-yard-father-and-son. Like, for my sixteenth birthday he took me to a party on base and convinced me to drink sixteen beers.”