The Last Guy

by Ilsa Madden-Mills

  “Um . . . no.” Cade is confused.

  “Oh, no matter!” Chas waves a hand. “It’s clear you know my friend Rebecca.”

  Cade gives my waist a squeeze, and I melt a little more against his firm chest. I want to tear my dress off and press my body against his.

  No, Rebecca!

  Yes, Rebecca!

  No!

  Wait . . . whose side am I on?

  “We work together,” Cade says.

  Oh, right.

  “Oh my God, that’s perfect!” Chas emphasizes the words as if it’s a dispensation from the pope. “Would you possibly be able to do me a huge favor?”

  “Of course.” Cade smiles.

  “I’ve just been invited to a party that will probably go all night. Rebecca and I came here together, and I really don’t want her going home alone—what with all these muggings and all.” She lightly touches Cade’s arm. “Would you possibly ease my mind and be sure she gets home safely?”

  My mouth falls open, but I close it quickly. Sneaky bitch—we took an Uber here! Cade glances at me, and I see uncertainty on his face. Oh no . . .

  “Sure, no problem. I’m glad to help out.”

  “You really don’t have to,” I say, shaking my head.

  “You are such a lifesaver, Chris!” Chas exclaims. “You are literally out of this world!”

  Now I do consider kicking my roommate. “Cade is only being nice—”

  “It’s not a problem,” he tells me. He arches an eyebrow. “Unless you don’t want to be alone with me?”

  I lick my lips and look around. “I was planning to call an Uber—”

  Chas interrupts me. “You think I trust Uber alone with you? Have you seen that meme? Gary the Uber driver who looks just like Ted Bundy? Here . . . I’ll pull it up.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I catch her texting hands.

  Her eyes go round, dramatically serious. “I would never forgive myself if some skeevy Uber driver took you to the desert and stole your kidney!”

  “Good God, Chas, this isn’t Brazil!”

  Cade laughs, a low, rich vibration, and my roommate’s eyes dazzle. “Oh, yes! Did I mention I won’t be coming home tonight? It’s getting late. You two should run along. Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

  “Jeez, here’s your hat and what’s your hurry,” I grumble.

  “Goodnight, my love. I want to hear all your thoughts tomorrow.” Chas leans down and air-kisses me on both cheeks.

  I begrudgingly air-kiss back, and join her in the standard RuPaul “Byeeeee!”

  Cade

  WITH PLANS TO return early the next morning, I leave my SUV at the Pussycat Club and order an Uber. I’ll drop her off then head home. Alone.

  The car arrives, a small black sedan, which will be hell for me to fold my large frame into, but I go with it.

  We crawl inside, and it smells like stale French fries and leather. I ease to my side, playing it cool, but my peripheral gaze eats up the toned legs of my companion as she gets settled. Her dress rides up and I see a flash of inner thigh. I tear my gaze away and stare out the window.

  “Stupid seat belt,” she mutters as she clanks the two pieces together unsuccessfully.

  “Here, let me help.” I lean over her and reach for her straps. It takes me longer than it should because I’ve had too much to drink, but I finally click it together. Still, I hover over her a few seconds more. She smells so fucking good, like coconuts and sunshine mixed together. I lower my arm, and my hand brushes against her breast.

  Fuck.

  I sit back and adjust my own belt.

  The car is quiet as a church on Sunday as we pull away, and I imagine she’s wondering how the hell we ended up in a car . . . alone . . . together.

  My mind goes back to the club and how we’d been pressed up against each other. Like a couple.

  What the hell had I been doing back there?

  Flirting, asshole.

  Yeah. With prickly, uptight Rebecca Fieldstone. Now what?

  Drop her off at her place and then go home. That’s the sensible thing to do.

  But part of me doesn’t want to be sensible. I want to throw Stone’s legs over my shoulders and fuck her brains out.

  I bite back a groan at the image in my head. Not doing that. I clasp my hands in my lap and stare out the window. Again.

  She clears her throat and plays with one of the beads on her dress. Without the rambunctious crowd and loud music backing me up, I’m without witty comebacks and apparently so is she. To distract myself, I reach down and grab two bottles of water the driver has left in a small basket on the floor. I twist the top off one and offer it to Stone. She murmurs a small thank you and takes a deep drink. I watch the smooth glide of her throat as she swallows, her full lips tight around the bottle.

  Her lips . . . my cock . . . swallowing.

  Stop.

  I shake myself mentally.

  I rub my temple. God, should I still be calling her Stone? It fits. I like it because it’s different.

  Why am I attracted to her?

  Those goddamn lips.

  Her tits.

  Those snappy comebacks.

  I grab another bottle of water for me and chug it down in hopes of sobering up.

  Too late to hydrate, my brain says. You’re fucked.

  I watch the clock on the radio in the front seat. Exactly two minutes since we’ve spoken. It feels like two hours.

  I glance at the driver, a young guy in a baseball cap. “How much longer till we get there?”

  He glances at the GPS he has mounted on his dashboard. “About five more minutes.”

  Fucking forever.

  Why doesn’t she say something?

  Better yet, why am I acting like a young buck on his first date?

  Finally I give in, take her hand and just go with my gut. “Hey. Thank you,” I say.

  “What? Why? For dancing with you?” She looks a bit disoriented as she glances at our hands and then up at me. I bite back a smile. Stone is cute as hell when she’s trashed. I resist the urge to push an errant curl behind her ear.

  I shrug. “For just having a good time with us and introducing Trent to Chas. The truth is my brother likes pushing my buttons. I was prepared to be the butt of all the jokes tonight. Literally and figuratively.” I let out a laugh. “I almost didn’t come, but I had this crap dinner with my dad . . .” my voice trails off and I sigh. “Nevermind, it’s not anything you want to hear about.”

  “You’re really sweet to your brother.” Her thumb rubs the top of my hand, almost absently, as if she’s unaware of the caress. “I’m glad you came. I-I had a great time with you.”

  “Me too.”

  She smiles, and I like how genuine it is, not like her on-air smile which looks real to the viewers but isn’t. “Tell me about Trent.”

  I nod, relaxing. “He spent a lot of time blaming himself for our parent’s divorce, but my mom’s better off without my dad. And Trent . . . he’s the only sibling I have. When I busted my knee, he showed up at my apartment and took care of things. I mean, you saw him partying, but he can be serious when you need him.”

  She nods. “Chas is the same.”

  “Do you have any siblings?”

  It feels like small talk, but it isn’t. My brain registers that I really want to know more about her.

  Plus, we’re holding hands.

  God.

  We’re fucking holding hands!

  What am I doing?

  Moving nonchalantly, I remove my hand from hers and rake it through my hair.

  She frowns but continues to talk. “No, but my best friend Nancy is like a sister to me,” she says. “She moved to New York—hence the fifteen pounds I gained this year.”

  Her voice is cryptic, and it riles me up.

  “I like your curves.”

  Her eyes catch mine. “Oh. Why’s that?”

  “It fits your personality. Plus, you’re a tall woman and the overall imag
e is . . . well . . . hot.”

  Her face flushes.

  “You’ve got something special on camera. Don’t let Marv or anyone else tell you different.”

  Her face is soft as she gazes at me. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  I get warm all over.

  It isn’t from my buzz.

  The car has stopped, and I’m relieved to have her home. After telling the Uber driver to wait, I get out and cross to her side to open her door, but she’s already out and stumbling on the curb. She giggles as I steady her. “I’ve had waayyyy too much to drink tonight. We can’t tell anyone, right?” She holds her index finger to her lips and makes the shhhh sound.

  “Cross my heart.” I grin. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” I take her hand and wrap it around my bicep as I lead her to her building. We stop at her entrance, and we’re standing so close, I can see the freckles on her nose.

  “Do you want me to walk you upstairs?”

  “There’s a doorman for that if I want.” She shrugs.

  “Okay.” I’m disappointed, but it’s for the best.

  I glance around. “You know, our buildings aren’t that far apart. I’m just a few blocks from here.”

  She bites her lip. “That’s cool. Maybe we can hang out some time.”

  “Yeah.”

  The seconds tick by as we stand there staring at each other. I focus on her mouth as her eyes sweep over my shoulders, drifting down to my crotch before flying back up to my face.

  She clears her throat. “You know, it’s only twelve, and I’m still feeling a little hyped up from tonight.” She hesitates as if thinking it through. “You want to come in and chat? Have a cup of coffee?”

  I want to.

  But I don’t need to.

  “Kinda late for coffee.”

  “We’re just pals,” she says rather brightly. “Plus, I want to hear more about growing up with Trent—and what it’s like to be in the Super Bowl. I’m actually a big college football fan.”

  I rub the back of my neck. “Ah, I don’t know—”

  The Uber takes off from the curb, and both of us gasp as we watch him speed away.

  “Well, damn.” I laugh. “Looks like I’m stuck with you now, Stone.”

  “You can Uber another car.”

  “True.”

  “Do you want to?” Her voice is breathless.

  We study each other, and the air thickens. “No.”

  “Are we going to stand out here all night then?”

  I grin as I tuck my hands in my pockets. “Is the offer for coffee still open?”

  She gives me a short nod, and it’s all I need to escort her inside and get on the elevator.

  “Damn!” I exclaim, entering her apartment a few minutes later and taking in the magnificence of the flat screen television as if it’s a sacred relic. “It’s huge . . .”

  “That’s what she said,” Stone says with a giggle.

  “Is that eighty inches?” I touch it reverently.

  “According to the box.”

  “I thought only guys bought shit like this. You just moved up on the cool scale.”

  “Biologically, Chas does have a penis,” she reasons. “But I also work in the medium.”

  “And look good doing it.”

  She winces. “Except for today when my oily face and laugh lines were in high-def for everyone to see.”

  She mentions the coffee again and tells me to get comfortable in the den, but I follow her instead. Part of it is because I like watching her ass swing in that short-as-fuck dress, but the other is I don’t want her to feel shitty about today.

  “It wasn’t that bad.” My voice is gentle.

  She pauses as she puts a mug in its place and drops a pod in the coffee maker. “It was pretty awful.”

  I tug on her shoulder, turning her around until we’re face to face. “You’re gorgeous, Stone.”

  “You need to run to the optometrist because you need glasses.”

  I smirk. “Can you imagine me with glasses and my beard? The ladies would go nuts.”

  She scoffs and pops me on the arm. “You’re so full of yourself.”

  I may be cocky, but really I just want to make her laugh. “Admit it. I look good on camera.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Never.”

  I take her hand in mine and lead her back to the den. I don’t know what I’m doing—oh hell, I totally do. I’m going to fuck Stone and fuck her good.

  We get comfortable on a loveseat in the den. “What made you want to be a reporter in the first place?” I ask as my arm slides around her shoulders and my fingers find the nape of her neck and rub.

  She sighs and closes her eyes as I massage her with deeper strokes.

  I imagine my hands in other places.

  “My first producer said I had a nose for news.”

  I touch the tip of her nose lightly. “It’s cute. I love the freckles.”

  “Oh,” her eyes drop.

  We’re quiet a moment. The crash of the ice machine refilling in the kitchen breaks the silence, and I shift in my seat to ease the ache in my cock.

  There’s still time to leave, the voice of reason says. Get out now.

  “What made you want to be a reporter?” Her chin lifts, and I’m pretty sure our faces are closer now than they were a minute ago.

  “It wasn’t part of the plan—that was to be a superstar quarterback—but I knew someday it might end, and if it did, I wanted to be in front of the camera at least talking about football. In prep school, I was the debate club president. Hard to believe, huh?”

  She nods, her face drifting closer to mine. “Why law school?”

  “Basically, I love rules—and I needed something hard to keep me occupied after football.”

  My hand lowers until it’s resting on her back. I let my fingers trace her spine as I study her face, taking in the classic straight nose, the arching brows that are a shade darker than her hair.

  I want to kiss her.

  “I remember the day you arrived at the station in your suit. Your toned ass was absolute perfection. I didn’t think you’d last a week.”

  “You think my ass is perfect?”

  She covers her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that.”

  I chuckle, pleased. “I remember the first time I saw you, too. Your shoes were off and your shirt untucked.” My eyes roam over her hair. “You had your hair twisted up with a pencil at the back of your head. You looked exactly like I thought a news reporter should . . . hard working and caring less about appearances and more about the story.”

  Her bottom jaw drops. “I really made an impression on you?”

  “Mhmm . . .” My fingers make small circles around the top of her shoulder. I slide them underneath the strap of her dress, pushing until it falls down. Her creamy skin is exposed. “You seemed so smart . . .”

  “Nerdy?” Her chest is rising rapidly.

  “No.” My fingertip rises to trace the line of her jaw, and she shivers.

  “I thought you were way out of my league.”

  She blinks. “I think you underestimate yourself.”

  “Do I?” I lean forward until our lips are a breath apart.

  Rebecca

  I HAD BEEN focused on Cade’s perfect mouth up until this point, but when my eyes flicker up to meet his, a charge of electricity races from my chest all the way to my core. In the space of a breath we’re together.

  His mouth covers mine, and both hands are in my hair, holding my face. A little moan escapes my throat, and I push into him, kissing him back. I grasp his broad shoulders and climb onto his lap in a straddle, the hem of my mini-dress rising up my thighs.

  The beading scratches my skin, but Cade’s warm palms smooth the irritation as they venture higher. I’m kissing and lightly biting his luscious lips when his thumb traces a line down the center of my crotch. Electricity races through my pelvis, and I rise up with a moan.

  “Oh, God!” I gasp,
holding his cheeks.

  He quickly jerks my thong aside, and it rips, falling away. Long fingers stroke my slit moving up and down, causing my legs to shudder. I lift my chin to exhale another noise and his mouth covers my throat. He’s sucking and biting when one long finger dips inside.

  “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, his breath hot against my skin.

  I quickly reach behind my neck and unfasten the button on my top. It falls away, revealing a pink lace demi-bra. Cade shoves the thin cup down with his mouth and gives my nipple a hard pull.

  I gasp. I’m going to orgasm right on his lap at this rate.

  Another long finger plunges into me, and he’s massaging my clit, priming my core. His mouth comes off my breast as his other hand snakes to the back of my neck. With a pull, my face is back to his, and he kisses me, tugging my lips with his, giving me nips with his teeth.

  “I want to fuck you,” he groans. “I want to sink my cock into your clenching pussy and have your cream all over my balls.”

  Oh shit! A shiver crosses my shoulders with the light touch of his hand. “What a dirty mouth you have, Mr. Hill.” I drag my tongue along his bottom lip.

  “You with me?” His skilled hand moves to my ass, holding me flush against his torso as he stands.

  My legs go around him, and I’m holding his neck, kissing along the line of his scruffy jaw to his ear. “I want to ride you hard then come all over your dick.”

  “Mm, that’s my girl.”

  A little thrill flashes through me. I’ve never been good at dirty talking, but for some reason, it comes naturally with him.

  “Next door,” I say, just before I kiss the shell of his ear. “That’s right. This is mine.”

  He kicks the door shut and without even turning on the light, he tosses me on my back on the bed. I prop up on my elbows. My dress is up around my waist, my bra is wet from Cade’s mouth, and my nipples are pointing right at him.

  “Damn,” he rasps, and I watch, mesmerized as he reaches behind his neck to pull his shirt over his head, leaving his hair a sexy mess.

  The light of the full moon blasting through my window covers him in a silvery glow. My stomach clenches when I see the lines of his muscles deepened by the shadowy light. My God, he’s gorgeous. He looks otherworldly.