by Clara Leigh
I groan as she simultaneously finds at least three of my sweet spots.
“Don’t mind me,” Lorne fans the air as if it’s no big deal we’re virtually humping under his nose. “I’ve seen it all before courtesy of the nightly news.”
“I’ll catch you all later.” Jace slips away with a wave, and Tyler bids us adieu too.
“That’s one way to see them off,” Lorne remarks.
“We’re not shagging,” I protest, not that I’m sad to see them go or anything..
Lorne shakes his head of dirty blond hair at me. “Course you’re not.” He rises to his feet, but just before he goes, he places a condom on the edge of the table. “But you should be. Catch you later. Try to be quiet when you come sneaking in later. I’d rather not listen to you moan and groan.”
Bastard! I glare at the little foil packet he leaves behind as though if I make it feel uncomfortable it might march off too. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t grow legs and scarper.
I snatch it off the table. “Fuck!”
“Yes, please,” Flicka whispers. “Right here and now, at your favourite table, in your favourite bar. We should totally celebrate.” She hollers at the barman to bring over champagne. Not that he hears her.
I’m glad. I don’t even like champagne. It gets up my nose.
What I do like is the feel of her in my lap, and the way she rubs against my cock when she wriggles. “Not concerned about sullying your reputation, being here alone with me, in this secluded booth,” I tease. She’s all limbs and hands and eagerness.
“Nope. Maybe you should be worried about yours. I’m a bad girl, you know.”
The light makes the highlights in her hair shimmer as she eyes me flirtatiously from beneath her eyelashes.
“I eat bad girls for breakfast.”
Her eyes glitter as she unabashedly watches me unzip. “Yes, but this bad girl has been wild with Mr. Wilde.”
“Hm, I see. And that makes all the difference, I suppose.”
“It does.”
“How does it?” I place the condom into her hand and watch her roll it over my cock.
“He’s not like other guys.”
“No?”
Her breath blows hot against my ear before she shimmies off my lap and steps out of her lacy knickers. “He’s a beast.” She settles herself primly upon my lap, facing sidewards with her hands resting upon her knees. “He can even charm virgins out of their underwear.”
“In my experience of late, they’re the first ones to want to take them off.”
She pouts.
“And after this Mr. Wilde has charmed the panties off the young ingénues he happens upon, what then?”
She leans in close. “Naughty, dirty stuff.”
I feign mild shock. “Necking? 69ing?”
“Everything. He starts with advanced missionary, works through doggy style, and rear-facing cowgirl with a lot of oral added into the mix, before progressing to the more advanced stuff, like ‘barefoot in a doorway’, ‘bare arsed on a beach’, and ‘naked while smeared in baby oil and hanging off a trapeze.”
Seems she’s been enjoying some light bedtime reading.
“Hm,” I muse. “While I definitely like the idea of you being all slippery and slide-y, none of those sound nearly pervy enough.”
“Oh.” She presses her lips firmly together. “It’s like that is it? Well, Mr. Wilde, you’re going to have to persuade me to down a lot more of that smoky nonsense you claim to love if you want to tie me up and fuck me in the arse, or any of that nonsense.”
“Tease.” The brush of my stubble against her cheek makes her quiver. “Babe, you’re going to beg me to take that cherry later tonight, and you’re going to love it so much, that you’re not even going to blush when I lick you clean afterwards.”
“You’re a very dirty boy, Mr. Wilde.” She ticks me on the nose, before straightening her arms again to resume her prim pose.
“Dirty,” I assure her, “is when I screw you with a vibe at the same time.” I tip her back into my arms, and bruise her lips with my kisses. She still tastes of cherries, and I’m still every bit as desperate to get inside of her as when she was still one. “Dirty is also when you beg me to shoot my load all over you and rub it into your skin like it’s moisturiser. And when you shoot film all day with my come still wet on your thighs.”
“Huh!” Her snort is dismissive, or would be if she wasn’t smiling so hard. “As if I’d agree to any of those things. You dirty perv.”
“Them and so much more.”
“You think?”
“I know.”
I kiss her neck and enfold my hands within her hair, whereupon she grows breathless and squeaky with excitement. I have her straddle my lap again, so that the lips of her sex rub against me. She’s slippery wet. An absolute joy to hold. I can’t resist touching and smearing all that eagerness around a little. She tries to say something else, but her words fracture as I slick circles around her pearl. She gasps and arches her back, presenting her breasts to me at exactly the right height to suck her nipples into my mouth. She’s so fucking beautiful. The most gorgeous woman in the world. I could wax at length about how amazing it is to have her here on my lap, so willing to let me touch her. Let me own even the tiniest piece of her.
Flicka owns more of me than I think she realises. Her head drops forward again. Her lips press against my brows, and she rides my hand in that position a few moments, groaning softly.
“Could be that I have a list of my own,” she announces. My heart starts doing these giddy hops that if they occurred at any other time, I’d be hurrying straight along to A&E.
“Such as?” What does Flicka Caine dreams about doing to me?
“I want to bite your arse,” she says. Her teeth graze my earlobe instead. “It’s easily one of your best features, and so amazingly squeezable. I’m going to leave love bites all over it, so that you say ‘Ouch!’ when you sit, but as you know it was me that caused it, the little darts of pain will get your bollocks all in a tizzy. And you’ll be all sore but desperately thinking of me.”
“Anything else, besides bruising my arse?”
“Yeah.” Her grin stretches so wide it’s slightly scary. “I want to suck your balls.”
“Okay!” My toes curl. I’m less enthralled by that notion. My balls are super sensitive; I’m not sure having them rolled around inside someone’s mouth sounds all that heavenly. “We might have to build up to that one.”
“Coward.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”
“But most of all, I want to watch Lorne blow you.”
Aw, Jeez! “Flicka, no you don’t. Why would you?”
“Because I know he does… has, and more than once, so it must be good.” She chooses that exact moment to sink down and engulf my cock in its entirety.
The sounds I make rather suggest I agree.
“Also, I want to see this party trick of his.”
“It’s not that impressive.”
“Is it not? Well you can’t blame me for being curious.”
No, I blame Lorne for planting ideas. “Flicka…”
She squeezes me with her inner muscles and I groan. Ohmygod! It shouldn’t feel this good when she’s making me think about Lorne. But it is. It always is with her. I can’t control it. I don’t want to control it. My angel. My cherry bomb. She’s going to make me explode.
“What’s that?” she asks in response to my groaning. “We can arrange it for a week come Thursday. Lorne’s free that night. Jace is cool with giving us a little time off. Wow, I’m excited, Dare. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to hold out that long though. I mean, enquiring minds need to know.”
“Stop it.”
“I don’t think so.”
Her fingers curl around my shoulders, and she uses the grip to aid her motion as she goads me towards climax.
“Does he come in your throat? Does he swallow? Am I fucking with your head?”
Just a lit
tle.
“When he shows me, that’ll be the last time. Afterwards, the only person who’ll be blowing you is me. I’m the only person who’s going to be fucking you. It’s just going to be the two of us, fucking all the time.”
Okay, now I at least see where this is going. “You can have all of me now. I don’t need any sort of last hurrah with Lorne.”
“Can I Dare? For reals?”
Can’t she see that she already has me?
“Forget Lorne,” I say or think or smell. My senses are all muddled. For a moment, I can’t tell them apart, then they’re all burning on full capacity. Bam. Bam. Bam. I’m inside of her, entirely surrounded by her warmth, and I can feel everything in a way I realise I haven’t for years. It’s as if part of me that has been sectioned off has opened again.
I want her always.
I hold her close as the sweat of exertion beads upon my skin, and I mutter words I need to tell her over and over again. “I love you. I need you. Don’t let go. We’ll make mistakes, but we’ll always be right together. Lorne’s a friend, not a lover.” I’ll never feel the way about him the way I do about her. “It’s not like that between us. Never has been.”
“Dare, it’s okay.” She rains kisses upon my face. “I’m never letting go. Not ever.”
We race together. Holding on tightly.
“Want to do something mad with me?”
“Madder than fucking you in public, days after a video of us went viral?”
“Marry me.”
“Wow! That would be crazy.” She groans as she considers. Nodding and grimacing all the while. She rubs her hand over her heart, and then over mine. “Maybe it’s a little too soon. But someday,” she reassures. “You will ask me again, won’t you?”
I nod. “Definitely.”
She presses our foreheads together. “I love you.”
Those words are enough. She’s right, it is too soon to say ‘I do’, but we have forever stretching out ahead of us. The realisation builds an ache at the base of my cock that founts upwards. Stars fill my vision as she guides us on a mad gallop, still talking and talking about our future and all the crazy stuff we’ll do together.
She’s soaking wet, gushing slippery fluid all over me, and it’s so good that I’m fast spurting jets of my own while her pussy flutters around me. We both cry out as we come, and neither of us give a fuck if we’re probably overheard or if someone takes pictures of us.
I love her, and I don’t care if the whole world knows.
-epilogue-
Felicity Caine
We’re settled on the banquette at the club again. It’s late October, a full eight months since Trailer-gate, and two hours since Chinchilla and I finally settled our differences in an out-of-court agreement. They’ve gained all future profits from the work I did while contracted to them, but I’m henceforth free to act as I please, take whatever roles I want, and finally be my own independent person. I’ve had a surprising amount of offers over the last few months since the teaser trailers for Accelerant released. Apparently it’s true that people can’t resist a bad girl. The non-disclosure aspect of the court case has certainly proved helpful in regard to fielding questions about mine and Dare’s relationship. The loss of that excuse doesn’t lessen my jubilation that the battle is finally over.
“Penny for them.” Dare gazes across at me, a dirty, lazy grin spreading wide across his face. His skin is lightly tanned, and there are lighter streaks in his hair courtesy of the sun. He’s been out of the country filming in Tunisia for the last six weeks, but he’s flown back to help me celebrate the verdict.
I mirror his smile as I sip my drink. Everything is totally relaxed between us. I kick off my shoes and curl into the well-worn leather. The smell of it is as endearingly familiar as Dare’s musky aftershave.
“I was just thinking back to the last time we were sat here.”
“I recall you threatened to make my backside ache.”
I blow him a kiss. “You love it when I kiss your arse.” The same isn’t true of anything relating to his balls.
“Yeah, I just haven’t figured why that involves bruises.”
Lorne slips onto the sofa alongside us, leaving me sandwiched between the two men. His shaggy, blond hair has been recently styled and highlighted. Rumours of a lead part in a comic-book adaptation abound, though Lorne is curiously quiet about the prospect. He lifts my feet on to his lap and begins working his thumbs into my tired arches.
Damn! That’s good. So good, I catch myself mewling.
“That bit?” he asks.
“Mmm.”
Dare kicks up one brow. I’m not sure if he’s irritated or amused. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Yep. He’s good.”
“Magic thumbs,” Lorne remarks.
“Afternoon tea good, or fuck that makes me horny good?”
That might be a hint of jealousy I detect from Dare. “Horny,” I admit. We’re always honest with one another, and the combo of having Dare here after not seeing him for so long, and whatever the hell it is that Lorne’s doing to my feet has turned my lady parts into a raging mass of squirmy need.
“How horny?” Dare leans over, head tilted, lips slightly parted. I don’t need to look into his eyes to know what he’s asking. He might be a reformed villain, but he’ll always be bad to the bone. My heart rate accelerates as his lips meet mine. The kiss, like so many he’s given me, is incendiary. I’m white hot in seconds and eager for more. The club isn’t all that busy tonight. Any antics would likely pass unnoticed, and even if they didn’t, the regulars are used to these sorts of shenanigans.
“Been too long,” Dare mumbles. It’s not clear if he’s thinking aloud or asking me a question. But I agree, it’s definitely been too long. I went with him to Tunisia for the first ten days, but the legal case meant I had to return to England, and no amount of phone sex can replace the feeling of having him right here in my arms, tasting him, breathing in his scent and knowing his warmth.
At some point mid-snog, I realise that Lorne is no longer caressing my feet. It’d probably be weird if he was. I don’t really think anything of it when he stands, beyond the fact he’s being a gentleman and giving us some privacy.
“Do you still want this?” Dare asks.
I don’t get what the question is. Do I want him? Absolutely. Forever.
“Say so now if you don’t. You said you wanted to see it.”
I open my eyes. Lorne is knelt between Dare’s wide spread thighs, his hand on Dare’s zipper. Understanding hits me like a bucket of cold water. I blow out a long quavering breath. “Is this really the right time and place?”
“It’s as good as any. You said you wanted to end it properly.”
My shoulders lift up and hurt creeps into my voice, even though I know this is only happening because I told him I wanted to watch. I swallow down the lump that’s wedged in my vocal chords. “Are you turned on by him?”
Dare touches my face. His little finger makes a circuit of my lips. “I’m turned on by you, Flicka. You’re what I want. This is for you. If you still want it? It hasn’t happened in all the time we’ve been together, and it won’t happen again. It won’t happen for me with anybody else.”
I can’t answer him. My emotions are all strung out. It’s far easier to turn to Lorne for answers. I gawp at him, mouth hanging open, and eyes swimming with tears. I don’t know if I do want this, and yet at the same time, I know deep down that it’s a line I have to see being drawn. “Are you okay with this, Lorne?”
He shrugs in that laidback, surfer dude way of his, all easy riding and playful charm. “You know me. And it’s easy money,” he says with a wink.
I honestly don’t want to know if actual cash is exchanging hands. I hope the insinuation is merely a joke. Then again, maybe it’s always been a pay to play arrangement. Every time I think I have the pair of them pegged, I find out I’m hopelessly wrong.
“Don’t you want to know why I said I wanted to see it?�
�
He laughs aloud. This is so easy for him. He’s relaxed, like it’s no big deal at all. And maybe, it isn’t.
“Whatever rocks your boat, Flicka. You’re not the first woman who’s ever got off over the sight of a guy going down on her man. Doubt you’ll be the last.”
“I’m not turned on by the idea.”
“I told you, she thinks you have some uber amazing technique she can steal.”
I jab Dare in the ribs. He wasn’t supposed to discuss this with his man-pals.
“I have the ultimate flexible tongue.” Lorne sticks out said appendage. “I can do the roll, and the bowl, a bit of a ripple effect, and I have great suction.”
Dare scratches above his eyebrow. He’s grinning at Lorne’s self-aggrandizement, but the tight grip he has on my hand clues me in that he’s every bit as nervous as I am. “Flicka?”
I nod, and Lorne opens Dare’s fly wide. Still, the slash of space between the teeth of his zip isn’t nearly enough to make things accessible. Dare’s forced to raise his hips, so that Lorne can tug his trousers down a bit and expose him. Dare’s cock's lethargic. He purses his lips in a sort of apology. Normally, he’s erect in seconds at the prospect of a blowjob. Maybe I’ve less to fear than I thought.
“You sure you want me to do this, and you wouldn’t rather do it yourself?” Lorne sniffs, and purses his lips at Dare’s limp appendage.
“Don’t you want a formal farewell?”
“What have you been telling her? You have some right, weird ideas, lady.” His gaze shifts between Dare’s face and mine several times over, before returning to Dare’s semi. “Okay, here goes. One Lorne Everett slash fantasy special blowjob coming up.” He rolls his eyes. “The things I do for friends.” He dips his head, then bobs right up again. “But…Your hand needs to go right here.” He wraps my palm around the base of Dare’s shaft. “Hopefully that’ll stop him drooping. I’ve things to do you know. I don’t want to be down here on my knees for hours indulging your weird couple-y fantasies.”
“You always fucking talk too much,” Dare gripes. “Just get the fuck on with it, if we have to do this.”