I hold onto the back of his neck so I have an anchor. I’m standing on the ball of one foot. I can see the latex ring at the base of his cock in the reflection. And his balls. They’re pulled up tight. There’s also a long, pale scar on the inside of his thigh.
That’s definitely not my point of focus, though. This position is almost reminiscent of a figure-skating pose. Except we’re naked and his massive, fabulous cock is inside me, which definitely wouldn’t happen on the ice.
Randy’s one coordinated man, because he’s able to roll my marble and hold me up while still thrusting. It’s insane. And hot.
So of course I come. It’s the apocalypse of orgasms. I moan so loudly I have to cover my mouth with my hand. Otherwise I’m concerned anyone walking by in the hall might think I’m being murdered.
Randy stops with the magical genie clit rubbing and moves my hand away from my mouth. “No fuckin’ way. I wanna hear you come as much as I wanna watch. Make those fingers useful.”
I’m not sure whether to be a snarky bitch or even more turned on. I’m mostly the latter. “People might hear me.”
“Like I care who hears you.”
He shifts until my knee rests on top of the vanity. Then he reaches over and slams the door. “Now you can make all the noise I want.”
He guides my hand between my legs, encouraging me to take over the rolling of the marble. It takes me all of half a minute to have another orgasm. He goes back to the aggressive, heavy thrusting, and I keep rubbing and trying not to scream his name or feed his ego more than I already have.
I don’t know how it’s possible for him to pick up speed, or momentum, but he does. The vanity starts to creak with each frantic thrust. I come again and give up the marble rolling, bracing a hand on the mirror instead. I’ll definitely leave a juicy handprint behind. Which I’m sure Randy will love.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His head drops against my shoulder, and he bites his way across my neck. “All night long, Lily. I’m gonna be inside you every fucking minute you’re here with me.”
“Sounds like a good time.” I say, and then, because I can’t help myself, “But it’ll probably get a little awkward when we’re sleeping.”
“So fucking cheeky.” This time he uses more teeth, and I gasp. A smile tips his mouth, but it’s brief. He’s too close to coming to make more jokes.
He circles his hips, and the hand splayed across my chest comes up a little higher, resting below the base of my throat. “Your mouth, Lily. I want it.”
I turn my head and he kisses me, going deep. His other hand drops low, cupping me. He makes the same sound he did last time he came. So I fall down the rabbit hole again with him.
We’re both breathing like we’ve been running from the cops. And we’re sweaty. I’d be grossed out, but I’m too orgasm-saturated to care.
Randy carefully lifts my leg down from the vanity. I attempt to use the counter to help brace myself, but we’ve definitely done some damage. It’s pulling away from the wall. And it’s on an angle.
I hold on to his arm. My legs are seriously unsteady after that thorough fucking.
“Look what you did.” I push the vanity with one finger, and it wobbles.
“Look what I did? Look what you did.” He jiggles it. It sounds like drywall chunks hitting the floor. And possibly a tile.
“Stop! You’re going to make it break! How will you explain that?”
“Why am I explaining it? It’s your fault.”
“My fault? How is it my fault? You’re the one who busted in here on me. How did that happen anyway? I locked it! Were you some kind of juvenile delinquent as a kid? Are those your prison tats?”
He laughs.
“Stop!”
He takes my chin between his thumb and finger, tilting up. “You’re so cute I can’t even stand it.”
“I am not cute.” I push his hand away. He lets go, turns around, and pulls up his pants. He’s all tucked inside and hidden away when he swings back around, though his boxer briefs sit low and his pants are still undone.
He’s got what could possibly be an appendectomy scar, but it seems like the wrong place for that. He tosses the used condom in the garbage. Then reaches around me to turn on the tap, pinning me against the vanity.
“And you’re also sexy, so you shouldn’t be too upset about being cute.”
“Cute is for pink tutus and puppies, not grown women.”
“Mmm. I see.” He finishes washing his hands and takes my face between his wet palms.
“Ah! What the hell, Randy!”
He doesn’t answer, just kisses me while he smiles. I stop fighting against him and go with it, even though he’s making my face wet. He leans in, and the vanity cracks loudly. “You can’t tell me that was anything but ten-out-of-ten sex.”
“Probably even eleven. I need a shower.”
He gives me some space. “I’ll order us some room service.”
“You don’t want to join me?”
“Another time. I’m hungry, and you gotta be starving.”
“But you’re all sweaty.”
“I’m used to being sweaty; plus I’m totally happy smelling like this.”
He pats me on the ass and turns on the water. While I wash my hair he peeks through the curtain and reads me the menu. It’s already two by the time I’m done with my shower. I have nothing clean to put on, so I use one of the robes the hotel provides for guests who rent the nice rooms. I find Randy lying on the bed, watching Sportsnet.
He’s still shirtless and wearing jeans. He pats the bed. “Come hang out with me.”
I lie in the mound of pillows, and he slides an arm behind my back, pulling me close. It’s comfortable, which is a little unnerving. I get all cozy along his side and close my eyes. I’m so tired. Having two jobs is exhausting, as is multiple orgasms and awesome sex.
I must nod off, because suddenly Randy’s all up in my face, using my boobs to shake me awake. I open my eyes with a frown.
He’s smiling. “Food’s here!”
“Nice.”
We sit cross-legged on the bed, and I devour the entire personal pizza he ordered for me. It was only six slices. “I’m so full.” I lean back against the pillows and rub my belly through the robe. “And sleepy again.”
“So catch a nap.”
I check the clock. It’s already three-thirty. “I have to leave in an hour.”
He frowns. “And you’re off at what time?”
“Not until ten.”
“You should call in sick.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not sick.”
“So? Come on, call in.” He crawls up my body and lies to the right of me. “I don’t have another Toronto game for a month, and I doubt you can get a whole weekend off to come to a Chicago game.”
I run my fingers through his hair, debating.
“You can nap, and then we can use the rest of that box of condoms.” He traces the edge of the robe and pulls the tie free. “I promise it’ll be more fun than work.” He parts my robe and circles a nipple with his fingertip. It pebbles under his touch.
I shouldn’t call in. I should work my shift, but he’s right, I can’t logically coordinate the time off with both jobs, and there’s no guarantee he’ll still be interested in another month. This could potentially be my last opportunity to have seriously uninhibited sex.
I sigh. “Okay.”
“You’ll call in?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get your phone.” He rolls off the bed and jogs to the bathroom. He returns with my purse and my bag of goodies from Shopper’s. He holds up the box of condoms I purchased. “You’re a regular Girl Scout, aren’t you?”
“It’s Girl Guides in Canada.”
“Good to know. You better call work quick. We have twenty-three condoms to blow through tonight. We have to get started on that right away.”
I wait until Randy turns the volume down on th
e TV before I call. Once I’m on the phone with my boss, he runs his hands up my shins. When he reaches my knees, I kick at him. He grabs my legs and spreads them apart, pulling me down the bed.
I mouth for him to stop, but he pulls me in tight, grinding against me. He’s already hard. I can both see and feel him through his jeans.
“I’m so sorry. I know. It must have been something I ate. I got takeout last night, and I’ve been sick all day.” I cough to cover my groan when he rubs against my clit. “I thought I’d be over it by now, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to work around food if there’s a possibility I’m contagious. I should have called earlier—Yes, of course. I’ll call tomorrow and let you know. ’Kay, thanks. I’m sorry again.”
I hang up the phone. “You couldn’t have waited until I was done before you started with the humping?”
“What fun would that have been?” He takes my phone and tosses it on the bed, then lies on top of me.
“I thought I was supposed to nap.”
“Fuck first. Nap later.”
“You’re insatiable.”
I pull his mouth down to mine, and the only sounds I manage after those are moans of affirmation.
True to his word, Randy keeps me up most of the night. I’m naked the entire time, and the only reason I get out of bed is to hose down or use the bathroom.
He orders wine and cheese and fruit for us to snack on between sexings. I don’t think I’ve ever been this indulged in my life—not with sex or attentiveness.
Randy has some interesting sex habits I can now cross-reference with his bunny groups: he always starts with the covers on, and then we lose them later. He likes the lights down in the beginning, and then he likes to be able to see me when I come.
He’s also a little weird about me touching his cock. I have no idea why, but any hand-job action is short-lived and always while the lights are down. And when I offer to go down on him, he tells me some other time since he’ll taste like latex.
I’m not about to ruin all the awesome orgasms and sex we’re having by asking personal questions, so I leave it alone.
It’s after five in the morning by the time we finally finish a box of condoms, save one. I need at least three solid hours of sleep or I’m going to be a mess at the arena. Randy slips an arm under my pillow and pulls me to him. I’m naked, still, and so is he, but I have no more energy left for sex. My vagina will fall off my body. He seems to be done—for now—so this time when I fall asleep, I’m not awakened by his mouth next to my ear, asking me if I wanna have more fun yet.
Chapter 15
Just a Ride
LILY
Eight comes horribly fast. I cut my alarm and look over at Randy, still out cold. His full lips are parted, his tattooed arm thrown out to the side. There’s a hockey scene captured on his forearm, and a Toronto emblem, as well as the one for New York. It’s still too dark for me to make out the rest.
I leave him where he is and tiptoe to the bathroom. My hair’s a mess. I look like I’ve been boned from here all the way to the North Pole. And not freshly either—in a used well and ridden like a cheap hooker kind of way. I also smell like a big, huge pile of sex. I take a quick shower and call a cab. I don’t want to wake Randy up to have him drive me in.
I put on my crappy jogging pants and hoodie, thankful that I have a spare skating outfit in my locker. There’s nothing I can do about the lack of underwear, since I forgot about washing them, but I’ve dealt with worse issues.
I pack my bag in a rush, knowing I’m cutting it close. I debate whether or not to leave without saying goodbye. I decide I don’t want to. I wouldn’t like it if Randy did that to me. Although I’m a girl, and we’re different.
I creep around to his side of the bed. My plan is to whisper a goodbye and thanks, but I note the tented sheets at his waist. He’s asleep with a hard-on. I lift the soft cotton carefully, but I’m disappointed to find he’s got his boxers back on. It’s like the damn Loch Ness monster. Everyone says it’s real, but they’ve never seen it to prove it.
I reach under the covers, ready to sneak a peek, but Randy snatches my hand. “If you want it, all you have to do is ask.” He pulls me down and rolls on top of me.
“I was saying bye. I have to leave for work.”
He nuzzles his face into my neck and gives me a couple of humps through the sheets and my clothes. “No. Don’t go.”
“I have to.”
“I wanna fuck some more.”
I laugh. He’s all groggy and uncoordinated—aside from the hip grinding. That’s very coordinated. “I called a cab. I have to leave, like, two minutes ago.”
“I’ll drive you in.”
“You’re not even conscious.”
“My dick is. He’ll drive.”
I push on his chest, but he’s not budging. “If I’m late I could lose my job.”
He stops grinding and rolls off me. “Now I have to deal with this alone.” He pats his hard-on.
“Just go back to sleep; it’ll go away.”
“What time are you done?”
“One, but I work a shift at my other job at four.”
“I’ll come get you.”
“Don’t you need to go back to Chicago?”
“I’ll fly or something.” He shoves his hand down the front of his boxers. “See you at one, luscious Lily.”
“Whatever you say, raucous Randy.” I turn to leave.
“Wait.”
“Hmm?”
He taps his cheek lazily. “I wanna kiss before you leave.”
I lean over and plant one there, then drop another on his lips. “Thanks for all the fun.”
“Anytime.”
***
Since he was half-asleep when I left this morning, I don’t really expect him to show up at my work. So when he arrives at eleven-thirty with coffee and a bag and sits in the stands, all the butterflies in the world take up residence in my stomach.
We had an insane amount of sex. I’ve never in my life used an entire box of condoms in one night. Three, maybe, but never more than that. All my muscles ache, but the pain isn’t something I mind.
At the end of the lesson, I skate over to Randy. He looks fresh, cleaned up, and a whole lot less disheveled than I did this morning. “I brought you something.” He passes me the bag.
I take a peek inside. “You bought me clothes?”
“I figure we only have a couple of hours before you have to go to work, and you’d want something fresh to change into. I guessed at the size. I know your dress was a four at the party.” He jams his hands into his pockets.
A guy remembering a dress size seems epic. “That’s sweet, but you didn’t need to do that. I have my work clothes. I was going to change into them.”
“Well, I thought I could take you out for lunch, since that didn’t happen yesterday.”
“You don’t want to go back to your hotel?” I’m sort of being cheeky, sort of not.
“I had to check out.” He rolls back on his heels. “The backseat of the Jeep is spacious, though.”
I can’t tell if he’s being serious. One of the parents comes over to ask me a couple of questions, and of course, another mother recognizes Randy and starts freaking out. She’s got to be almost forty, and she’s definitely undressing him mentally. I know the look. Lucky for me I don’t have to work to imagine him without clothes. Well, except for one part.
I head to the locker room, shower, and put on the new clothes. He’s good at guessing. He’s also got expensive taste. A pair of gray leggings, a pretty shirt dress in royal blue, and a new pair of very lacy, very delicate panties cost over a hundred and fifty dollars, according to the price tags. The receipt isn’t in the bag, so there’s no way to return them.
Randy takes me to a nice restaurant. Everything is expensive. Benji and I didn’t go out on dates very often. If we did it was to see some local hipster band. He’d eat sweet potato fries and complain about his parents not putting enough money in hi
s bank account. It was annoying, but he always paid for me, so I never said anything. He liked to hold things like that over my head so I’d feel like I owed him something. He also liked to manipulate by digging at my insecurities. It set us up for inequity, and that doesn’t work for me. I don’t think it works for anyone.
Randy just seems to want to go out for a nice lunch. He gets a beer, and I get a glass of wine even though I have to work in a few hours. I’m starving, making lunch that much more amazing. Probably because of all the sex.
We get dessert, and not to share because I want my own and so does Randy.
“You work a lot, huh?” he says as he shovels a mouthful of peach pie into his mouth. His dessert choice is ironic.
I got the fried banana and ice cream. Also ironic.
“Yeah. I finished school in April. I’d like to work on a masters in physiotherapy, but the program’s expensive, so I need to save for a while. I’ve worked at the coffee shop since high school. There aren’t any full-time skating-coach positions unless I move to the city, so I do both for now.”
“A masters, huh? So you’re smart.”
I shake my head. “Not really. I mean, I guess for science and stuff I’m decent. I had to work hard to keep my scholarship. School wasn’t a breeze or anything.”
“So do you have a place close by? We have more than an hour before you have to go to work.” He’s got that look on his face.
Right now, more than ever, I wish I had my own apartment. Or one I shared with Sunny so I could take him back there for one last sex-and-orgasm marathon before I have to go to work and he has to leave for Chicago.
“I, uh… um… I don’t live on my own.”
“You have a roommate?” We’re sitting beside each other, not across the table. His arm is draped across the back of the seat, and he keeps running his knuckles down either side of my spine, from my hairline to the collar of my shirt. I can feel it right in my magic marble. Which I would love for Randy to roll again.
Pucked Over (Pucked #3) Page 17