Keep Me

by Faith Andrews

  When the tiny mouth around Luca’s thumb slackened and his hand fell from his face, I knew he was out for the count. I stood carefully so as not to wake him while transitioning him to his crib. After closing the door behind me, I went into the bathroom to compose myself.

  “He is nothing like Zack, Tessa. He’s a friend. It’s okay to relax and have a good time.” Great! Now I talk to myself! But my little pep talk was just what I needed to rid my mind of ugly memories and hurtful pasts. There was nothing wrong with enjoying the company of an old friend and allowing him to make me feel good. I wiped the tears from my face, reapplied a little bronzer for color, swished some mouthwash around, and followed the intoxicating music that was the elixir to my wounds.

  “Hey, what’s that?” I asked as I hopped off the last step, got rid of my melancholy mood, and made my way toward him. Was there anything sexier than a hot, tattooed, muscle-bulging man playing a guitar?

  “Ever heard the Lumineers?”

  “Yes, but not this one.”

  “Reminds me of you. It’s called Classy Girls.”

  As he sang with a raspy, soft voice about a man trying to pick up a ‘classy’ girl in a bar, the little reserve I had left started to melt away. I take it back… there is something sexier than a hot, tattooed, muscle-bulging man playing a guitar. And that would be a hot, tattooed, muscle-bulging man playing a guitar while singing an adorable song that reminds him of me!

  I listened and felt my cheeks warm, then gave in to the huge smile making its way across my face as the pace of the song picked up and he really got into it. His arms flexed, his fingers danced across the strings, and his eyes focused on me when he sang, “something drew me closer to her lips.” The rest of the lyrics passed by with no significance until Marcus strummed the final note and I realized that the guy in the song never actually got to kiss the so-called classy girl.

  I applauded and asked, “And why does that remind you of me?”

  He laid the guitar on the couch beside him and relaxed against the back cushions. “Because he wants her so bad, but they just don’t fit.”

  His words were a surprise. Did Marcus want me ‘so bad?’ And although I knew why, was it so obvious that we were the worst possible match for each other?

  With nothing to say in response, I leaned over him and lifted the guitar. When I played a familiar chord, I basked in the sensation of how good those forgotten strings felt underneath the skin of my fingertips. The first song that came to mind was a new one by Phillip Phillips. I fell in love with his music during his stint on American Idol and downloaded his album to iTunes as soon as it was released. Not only did it prove to be right up my alley, but the track I was about to play made me hopeful that I’d feel this way about someone… one day. I didn’t want to admit that Marcus made me hopeful, but this was the first step in allowing myself to trust him.

  I gave in to the urge to take the leap and just started to play. I fumbled with the difficulty of the chords and I hadn’t sung in front of anyone in… forever, but just like the words of the song, Marcus made it so easy. I poured my heart out through shaky vocals and rusty strumming, never looking up at him to register how he felt. When I was almost done, I felt a pang of regret for speaking these words to him, even if they weren’t my own, but it was too late for that, wasn’t it?

  With the last chord, I kept my eyes closed, afraid to face him.

  He pulled at the guitar and I released my grip. His touch was strong yet gentle at my cheek. When I opened my eyes Marcus looked at me with emotion that I imagined was foreign to him. This was so different from lust or desire. “Tessa, that was… you’re so… do you know what you’re doing to me?”

  I desperately wanted to know, but I was also too scared to hear the words. Go figure! I could sing him a song about falling hard, but I couldn’t admit that that’s what was happening.

  Before I had the chance to be embarrassed or to even think, his lips were on mine, taking control of my brain and the rest of my body.

  I gave in to the parts of me that wanted this, ignoring the parts that were telling me it was wrong, or too soon, or just plain stupid. I remembered the word I used earlier to describe what we were doing to Marcus—fun. If I just kept convincing myself that that’s all it was, no one would get hurt. Right?

  His lips moved from my mouth to my neck while his hands clutched my waist. I arched forward, allowing him access to the sensitive skin above my collarbone, moaning when his hands crept their way underneath the hem of my shirt.

  “I love that fucking sound.”

  I realized he was talking about the satisfaction that escaped my lips when he touched me. I wanted to tell him that I fucking loved hearing him talk to me like that. No one had ever spoken to me during sex—well, whatever this was—before. I didn’t have many boyfriends before my husband, and my husband… well, sex wasn’t very gratifying with Zack. It was his way or no way, just like everything else in our marriage.

  I was annoyed that I let Zack into my head in this moment. I’d be damned if I let him take the fun out of this too, and now it was time to take fun to a whole new level. Enjoying the feel of Marcus’s mouth on my skin and his hands cupping my ass, I inched my own hands up the length of his sculpted back, tracing imaginary lines along the tattoos on his biceps, finally anchoring my fingers into his hair. I urged his mouth to mine again and kissed him hungrily.

  I felt myself being lowered onto the couch, all the while never disconnecting lips from lips or hands from flesh. When he nudged my knees open with his hips and settled between my legs, I gripped his shirt and pulled him down to me. His body immediately melded into mine, grinding and thrusting despite the hindrance of clothing.

  I moaned again, imagining the way it would feel to have him actually inside of me. “Marcus, please don’t stop what you’re doing.”

  “Are you giving me permission, pretty girl? You say don’t stop, but can I keep going?”

  Was Marcus Grayson asking for permission to fuck me? Or maybe the better question should be, was I about to give Marcus Grayson permission to fuck me?

  “Keep going.” It felt liberating to speak those two words. Two little words that would change everything.

  “Fuck, Tessa.”

  I couldn’t tell if his two little words were a thank you or what, but the way he growled them before tugging my pants to my knees made me grin. “Hasty, much?”

  “I want you naked. Beneath me. So I can show you what I’ve fantasized about doing to you since I was thirteen fucking years old.”

  God, keep talking to me! His demands and confessions felt just as good as… with open-mouthed kisses he explored my thighs… okay, maybe not as good as that. His fingers hooked into my panties and tugged them down, too. I gasped when I felt his warm breath hovering over my bare, sensitive flesh.

  “Not yet, pretty girl. I said naked. First I want to see all of you. Then I’m going to taste all of you. And then I’m going to fuck you until you make more of those delicious sounds.”

  Holy shit! Fine by me!

  “That mouth. If your sister…”

  “Baby, I’m not thinking about my sister right now. And you shouldn’t be either.”

  He didn’t give me time to refute, just went about his business, removing my top. The surprise that registered on his face was priceless. “Fuck. No bra? If I knew that I would have copped a feel earlier. A lot earlier.”

  Surprised by how comfortable I felt with his eyes fixated on me, I teased, “Nothing stopping you now.”

  He licked his lips, as if to prepare himself for a feast, and lowered his mouth to me. When his lips encased my breast and his tongue flicked my hardened nipple I felt the moisture that was pooling between my legs start to trickle. “Oh, God, yes.”

  “Patience, baby. I’m just getting started. I can’t have you coming yet. Not when I haven’t tasted you.”

  Did he take a class in hot sex talk—Dirty Talk 101 or something? “Please, Marcus. I need…”

  Wi
th his lips still close to my breasts and his hands pinning me down by my shoulders, he looked up at me with coal-black pupils. “What? Tell me what you need, baby.”

  I needed so many things, but in this moment I just needed the kind of release only he could fuel. Thinking of what he’d want to hear me say, I dug deep and inhaled. On the exhale I whispered, “I need you to fuck me.”

  A flash of pleasant shock flickered across his flawless face, but he couldn’t hide the cocky way he sucked his lower lip between gritted teeth and then hissed, “Don’t be shy about it, baby.”

  Trying to ignore the prickles of warmth that gushed across my skin was damn near impossible. This wasn’t me. I’d never told a guy to… fuck me. But Marcus brought things out of me that were unexplainable. I was reluctant to give in this way—I’d fought it since the first moment I realized I was drawn to him—but God help me I really did want him to fuck me.

  “It’s been a long time, Marcus.”

  He stared down at me, his hand caressing my cheek. How he could be so tender while being so… hot, I didn’t understand. “I can give you what you need. And you… you’re everything I never knew I wanted.”

  Oh, Jesus. This man was killing me.

  His hands wrapped around my wrists, pinning them to my side. “Let me take care of you,” he whispered as his body slid down over mine.

  I giggled as his teeth nibbled my hip bone, and then sucked in a sharp breath when his tongue jutted out and traced a line from my navel to the opening of my sex. I braced myself for what came next and then he kissed my bare skin, opening his mouth to allow his tongue access. My legs fell open, inviting him to take control. As his tongue flicked my clit and then darted in and out of me, my hips instinctively rose to meet its greedy demands. “So good, Tessa. So fucking good.”

  “Oh. My. Fucking. God, Marcus.” He was right. It was good. It was better than good—heavenly was the only way to describe it. My fingers dug into the cushions and I gave in to the delicious pull that was coiling inside my core. When the build-up was too fierce to fight, I let myself go— gripping the back of his head, his mouth slurping, sucking me dry. I let out one final moan of mindless satisfaction and whimpered his name.

  Tremors quaked through my body, my breath jagged and strained—and to think he wasn’t done with me yet.

  “You’re in-fucking-credible. You know that?”

  “Me? Are you serious? That was…”

  With a finger to my lip, he whispered, “Shhhh, baby. I want more.” He inched back up, over my trembling body and when he kissed me again I tasted my arousal, never imagining that would turn me on. But it did.

  “I want more too. Please, Marcus, more.” I knew I didn’t have to beg, but at this point, even completely satiated, I felt I would die if I didn’t feel him inside me.

  Still straddling me, Marcus reached into his back pocket and took out a condom. My hands fumbled with his zipper, but his hands guided mine in undoing it and removing his jeans and underwear. I grabbed the foil packet from him and looked at him, admiring the bulging, thick flesh before me. “I’m on the pill. We don’t really need this. Unless…” I hated to think of him with all those other women right now but…

  “I always wear a condom, Tess. I’m clean.”

  I’d never been with anyone, other than my ex, without one, but I wanted to feel all of Marcus. I sat up, tossed the condom to the floor, and knelt in front of him. As his hands traced the curve of my neck and shoulder, my hands slid over his massive length.

  “You sure?” he asked, not removing his focus from my hand over him.

  “Mmmhmmm,” I mumbled and gulped down any insecurities, urging him down with a hand to his chest. My legs widened as I mounted him. His strong hands guided his cock between my legs, and I waited patiently, anticipating him. All of him.

  His eyes were dark, filled with desire. Filled with want. With need. With more. The tip of him gently expanded my sex and my panting grew harsher, his lips curving into a slight grin. “I’ve always wanted you.” With one thrust he completely filled me and I gasped. The sensation was spine-tingling. I tightened my knees, rocked over him, anchored him deep inside. He was everything I always wanted, too.

  “I’ve always wanted you.” The words just came out. I didn’t know what came over me, but I couldn’t help admit this truth while nestled deep inside Tessa’s addictive warmth. It was a hypnotic, mind-altering consummation of pure bliss. Rocking inside her was intoxicating, spellbinding, fucking insane. I’d lost all sense of sanity with her slick, tight walls wrapped around my dick.

  “Marcus,” she moaned, as her hips bucked off the couch, urging me deeper and deeper into her.

  I was trying everything in my power not to collide with her the way I really needed to, but this was Tessa. She was different and as much as I needed to bury myself as far as I could inside the depths of her magical pussy, what I needed more was for her to feel that this was different for me. She wasn’t just another hot piece of ass. She wasn’t just a random somebody to warm my bed for a night. She wasn’t just for fun.

  “More, baby. God, I want more.” I meant it in so many ways and I wanted her to understand, but there were no words—in this delicious moment—that would do my aching heart justice. Shit! My heart never came in to play during sex. What the fuck was she doing to me?

  With determination as deep-rooted as my cock, I gripped her ass and flipped her body so it was underneath mine. I had to stop admitting all these crazy feelings to her and somehow steal back my man-card. Why all of a sudden did I forget how to play the game I was always so good at? My guess—the rules were changing. Did I even want the rules to change?

  As I rocked into her, my mind jerked itself from thoughts about rules at the pleasing sight of Tessa caressing her own body with that look on her face. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open, emitting sounds that made me twitch inside her. One hand tangled itself in the blond waves splayed across the cushion and the other kneaded the peaked bead of her beautiful, pink nipple. Oh, God, she was fucking hot. I cupped my hand over hers, helping her cause. “Open your eyes, baby. Watch me.”

  Her lids flickered open—maybe she was reluctant to adhere to my demand—but when her eyes met mine she smiled, and the glow that emanated from her flushed features was enough to make me come right then. “You’re beautiful, baby.”

  She closed her eyes again, taking in the compliment.

  My body ground against hers as I spoke. “Ah, ah. Open them, pretty girl. I want you to see what you do to me.”

  Her gaze found mine again and the adoration and fulfillment that seeped through made me eager to kiss her. I lowered myself down to her face and kissed the tip of her nose. I was doing it again! Nose-kissing and fucking never went hand-in-hand before! It was unnerving. All I could do was growl like a rabid animal. “You’re killing me. Fucking killing me.”

  She giggled into my ear and then pushed me upright. “You can’t die yet. You’ve been awfully generous to me, but…” she hesitated and licked her lips. “I’ve yet to make you come.”

  It was all the encouragement I needed to take more of her without reservation. To pound into her until I shot out all over the tight, golden skin of her stomach. But I painfully forced control, cocking my head to the side. “No rush, baby. I can go all night.”

  Her tongue darted out and grazed the straight line of her top teeth, teasing me. “That sounds so good. I do want you all night, Marcus. But right now, I need you to come.”

  In that moment, I knew I’d never get enough. Tessa was the perfect combination of sweet-as-sugar and sexy-as-fuck. The delectable mixture, along with the flawless package it came in, made it seem like she was tailor-made for me.

  I grabbed her silky legs just above the bend in her knee and dug into the flesh of her thighs as I curled both legs around my waist. Her ankles locked together behind me. I fucking loved it. I was drunk from the sensation of slowly sliding in and out of her, watching her eyes roll back, but I picked up the pace,
giving in to the need to slam our bodies together. The sounds of flesh slapping and Tessa crying out my name surrounded me, entranced me, as the heat in my core grew more intense and the build-up unleashed. My body left hers and I collapsed on top of her, the hot gush of liquid erupting between us. Our arms wrapped around each other, our breathing choppy and broken. I imagined this being the point where lots of men admitted love, but I wasn’t there just yet. It wouldn’t be long, though.

  When the last shudder left me and Tessa’s hands fingered the hair at the nape of my neck, I lifted my head and looked into her sparkling blue eyes.

  She smiled, but remained wordless. I hoped she’d say something to let me know what was going on in her head, but she remained silent. I laid my head back down against her chest enjoying the skin-on-skin contact and her fingers in my hair.

  I guess I had to brave the waters first. “What comes next, pretty girl?” I had no idea what I had to do to make this a relationship and even if it was headed that way, I needed to know what steps to take and in what direction. North, south, east, and west were worlds apart from love, commitment, promises, and forever.

  “I don’t know, Marcus. Can’t we just let it be?” She craned her neck and stiffened a bit. “And not a word about this to your sister. I’m not ready to tell her yet.”