"Sure, look at the scars and not the hot body beneath them. I have an eight-pack in case you didn't notice that you scar slut."
She choked on a laugh. "I'm sorry... a scar slut?"
"Mhm, kind of like a snuggle slut, but instead of really being into snuggling, you're really into scars."
"That's so not a thing," she objected with a grin.
"Baby, it's a thing," he said, shaking his head. "Some chicks are into the dangerous and rugged thing."
"You got shot in the chest," she said, her voice a weird, airy imitation of itself.
People didn't just get shot in the chest and treat it like it was no big deal.
"In the interest of full disclosure, I was asking for it. Literally," he said, tucking his hands behind his head, completely at-ease.
"Asking for it? You asked someone to shoot you in the chest."
"Maybe told them is more like it?" he said, brows drawing together like he was considering the event, like it wasn't somehow at the forefront of his memories like a traumatic incident like that should have been.
"You told someone to shoot you in the chest?"
"You tell women and your buddy Trey and whoever else you work with to throw you around and hold you in painful positions and choke you and..."
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because they're not using lethal weapons on me."
"Baby, you know just as well as anyone that the human body is just as lethal a weapon as a gun. More so in a lot of situations."
But she wasn't giving up.
"Why did you tell someone to shoot you in the chest?" she asked, angling her chin up slightly in a clearly defiant way that suggested there was no way he was going to get out of telling her.
Daniel sighed slightly, his fingers digging into her hipbones for a second before he shrugged and gave her at least a part of the whole story. "We were in a shitty position. If she didn't shoot me, it would have been worse for me. If that makes any sense."
It made sense in about a hundred different situations so that in no way helped her pin it down. "She?" she asked instead. It wasn't jealousy, just surprise.
He smiled though, and shook his head. "Think it instilled a love of guns in her from that day on. Not something her husband appreciates, I'm sure."
Her body softened at that, not because she was nervous to hear he had a history with women. Of course he had a history with women. She had a history with men. It was naive and silly to pretend sex with other people wasn't a reality all couples face up to at the beginning. But she softened because he had either purposely or inadvertently soothed over any frazzled nerves that story brought about by telling her that the woman was happily married.
"I'm a great shot," she supplied with a teasing smile. "Do you want a matching one on the left side of your chest?"
"Alright," he said, folding up in a completely unthreatening way, something she should have known to watch out for. Because the second his body was close, his hands grabbed her around her underarms and pinned her to the bed again. "Enough talking," he said, then his body moved too fast for her to respond, his hands moving to pin her thighs to the bed, spread wide, and she felt his tongue trace up her slick cleft and find her clit without even a hint of uncertainty or hesitation.
Her hand slammed down on the back of his head as her body shuddered hard once, unprepared for the sensations that were suddenly flooding her system.
Daniel wasn't trying to tease her, to hint at an orgasm and deny it of her. He was pushing her up hard and fast, seeming to have every intention on making her body completely shatter apart.
"Wait, Daniel, I want," she tried to articulate, grabbing his hair and pulling him up by it.
His eyes met hers and he gave her the ghost of a smile. "You can have what you want when you beat me. Until then, I get what I want. And what I want right now is to make you come with my mouth a time or two. Then we can see about what you want."
With that, his head lowered again, his tongue pressed into her clit, and she did what she knew she would do- she shattered.
The orgasm tore through her system with an intensity she forgot existed, not being at her own hands- her body shook, her vision went white for a blinding second, and she cried out loudly enough for the dog two doors down to start barking.
But, as she slowly came back down into herself, she realized Daniel wasn't letting up. He sucked her almost too-sensitive clit into his mouth for a long second before his tongue slid a slow path downward, without warning, thrusting inside her.
"Oh my God," she whimpered, drained, but a small spark of desire ignited again, making her breathing start to get fast and erratic, her hands digging into the skin on his shoulders.
It was a few impossibly short minutes later when he made an 'mmm' noise and another orgasm ripped through her, a slower, deeper sensation that had her back arching up off the mattress.
Daniel pulled away a moment later, biting up her inner thigh until his face rested low on her belly and looked up at her, eyes heated. "You know, for all your talk in that class, you are proving far too easy an..."
He lost the rest of his sentence when she hip-checked him and moved on top of him, quickly scurrying down his body so her crotch wasn't in his face, and pinning his hands over his head. "Pants," she demanded, her breasts pushing into his chest, a smile pulling at her lips.
"Sure thing baby," he said way too easily, so easily that she knew she was about to lose again. But he was too strong for her to hold him down when he fought his arms free, grabbed hers, and pinned them behind her back so that her breasts pushed out invitingly as her shoulders screamed at the awkward position. He took the opportunity and leaned forward to rub the scruff on his cheek over the sensitive point, making her sigh out a breath at the strange sensation. "But you take them off with your fucking teeth," he demanded as he pulled out from under her and moved to stand at the side of the bed, brow up, waiting for her to do as she was told.
To her, though, it wasn't a defeat.
She wanted nothing more than to get his pants off, to get to see him fully naked, to stroke and suck him, to feel him finally, finally slide inside her.
So she slid off the bed and got onto her knees in front of him, yet again thankful for her height as she leaned forward and snagged the front of his basketball pants and started pulling them downward, yanking the material outward so his cock had room to make its glorious appearance, giving her an eyeful of his perfect length, the wide girth, promising fulfillment. A tiny bead of precum glistened at the head and she couldn't wait to finish getting his pants down to be able to lick it off.
When the material slid to his feet, she leaned back up and did just that, letting the taste of his desire coat her tongue for a second before closing her mouth around the velvety head and sucking him deep, then angling her head up, opening her eyes, and looking at him.
"Fuck," he said, half-aroused, half-amused. "Okay, fuck it, you win," he said with a small smile as she made a humming noise and started sucking him hard and fast and unrelenting. His hand crushed into the back of her neck; his hard exhales and almost pained groans spurred her on, stoked her desire again.
His hands sifted into her hair and yanked back hard enough for her to wince, his cock sliding out of her mouth as her scalp stung. "On the bed, baby," he demanded.
Granted, she might have won and got to make the demands. But, well, what she wanted was to be on the bed. So she got onto her feet, sliding up slowly so that her breasts brushed over his abs and his chest before she moved away and climbed on the bed, wincing a little when she tried to scoot up and the bedsheets rubbed against her sore ass.
Daniel went to the nightstand, apparently knowing that she was the type of woman who always kept a 'just in case' stash of condoms, and pulling out one to slide on his length.
His eyes moved to her again, finding her watching him just as aptly, sitting up with her knees to her chest, her arms wrapped around them.
"You alright?" he as
ked, as if somehow picking up at the small twinge of uncertainty she felt in that moment, the quiet voice from earlier coming back, this time with a megaphone, telling her this was the point of no return. Things were going to change, ready or not.
"Yeah," she said, giving him a smile as she unfolded from herself, made the decision to not go backward, to not try to slip her mask back on. She had already given him so much. She had given him her trust when he was someone who deserved suspicion. She had given him her past when she wasn't sure there was a future with him. So, really, what was giving him her body? It was nothing.
His head tilted, watching her, not quite believing her for good reason, but he didn't seem willing to fight about it either.
So he planted his knees at the edge of the bed and moved up, going over her body, and sitting down beside her against the headboard. His head turned toward her and he repeated the motion from earlier; he patted his lap.
Faith smiled at that, going up and moving over him, sitting back slightly off of him, his cock pressing against her cleft.
"You won," he told her. "So you get control. This time," he specified and she thrilled slightly at the promise of a time when she was at his mercy fully. He reached between them and grabbed his cock at the base, holding it for her to lift up and lower herself down on. Her hand planted on his shoulder, her thumb touching the gunshot scar, as she lifted up and felt the head press against then slide past the threshold. Her lips parted on a small sigh as she kept lowering, kept taking him deeper, until he was buried to the hilt, his thick hardness filling her perfectly.
"Ride me," he demanded a moment later and she was surprised to find she had just been sitting there staring in his eyes- a form of intense intimacy she generally didn't indulge in during sex. His hand moved out and snagged the back of her neck, pulling her closer and claiming her lips- softer than ever before, borderline gentle. She melted into the sensation as her hips lifted and lowered again, moaning quietly against his mouth.
It wasn't long before the clawing need was overtaking her again, making her wild, frenzied to get relief. Her hips moved harder, faster, her body slamming down onto his in a way that was almost violent as she arched backward, let the feelings cascade over and through her until she felt the tightening of her sex.
Feeling it as well, he snagged her chin between his fingers and forced her head down. "I want to watch when you come," he told her. And the words somehow pushed her over the cliff she had been teetering on. Her body spasmed hard once, collapsing forward onto him, turning her face into his neck to cry out her release into the skin there to muffle it.
His hands on her ass tightened as her orgasm started to subside, pulling her up a couple inches by it and thrusting upward into her. It was a long minute of being completely spaced out from her orgasm to realize he wasn't fucking her to find his release, but to get another out of her.
"Daniel, I can't..." she whimpered as his hand moved between them and his thumb started working her clit.
"Be a good girl and give me one more," he said, his voice rough, barely holding onto control. "There you go," he praised as her breathing got heavy again, as her nails dug into his arm and shoulder, as he got her upward fast. "Come on, come with me," he demanded, quickening his thrusts as well as his stroking of her clit.
Then, incredibly, she came with him.
She was half-asleep barely a couple minutes later- her entire body seemingly suddenly boneless, when Daniel chuckled slightly under her weight. "Come-drunk, huh?" he asked, sounding pleased with himself.
And, well, she couldn't fault him for that. He earned bragging rights. Hell, he earned the right to put that shit on a billboard in Times Square.
Yeah, it was that good.
She made some sort of unintelligible mumble that had him chuckling again as his arm tightened around her. "Sorry to break it to you baby, but you need to move."
"Nope," she said, drowsily. "Never moving again," she added. "I suddenly find myself without bones."
Again, his chest rumbled. "Well, I have to deal with this condom, so you, my boneless little jellyfish, need to let me up," he told her, rolling her off to the side and smiling at her when she didn't even bother to move to cover up as he got up and moved across her apartment.
He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment and reappeared still gloriously naked. He stopped inside the kitchen, looking over at the counter. "Nice fish."
"Rhoda," Faith told him, not so much as moving her head to look at him.
But even without looking, she could hear the humor in his voice when he asked, "As in Morgenstern?" But then he went on without waiting for her reply. "You would," he said with a smile as he climbed on the bed with her.
"She was a strong, no-nonsense female character," Faith insisted.
"And your fish has a similar set of characteristics."
"Hey, he don't need no man. You know, because two male betta fish fight."
"You named your male fish Rhoda?"
"How was I supposed to know she was a he?"
"Wouldn't the pet store tell you when you buy one?"
"Maybe they would have, but I didn't buy it for myself."
"Ah," Daniel said with a knowing nod. "A gift from a boyfriend."
"More like a parting gift."
"Parting gift? Who gets a chick a fish as a parting gift?"
Faith stretched out her heavy limbs slowly, sliding her legs under the blanket, suddenly aware of how cool her apartment was. "Guys who want to teach you a lesson."
"What the fuck kind of lesson is a tiny little fish?"
"It was supposed to teach me how to nurture something. I am, apparently, cold and withholding."
She said it in a matter of fact, casual way that had Daniel's brows drawing together as he moved onto his side to look her in the eye again. "Your ex was a fucking dick. And you're not cold. You're guarded. I figure that has a lot to do with what happened to you and your parents as well as people like him coming into your life. I figure you two fucked, right?" he asked oddly, making Faith let out a surprised laugh.
"Ah... yeah..."
"Then I don't see how the fuck he could think you were ever withholding. You gave up fucking everything to me."
He wasn't wrong.
But then again, he was.
Because she never completely let down her guards with a man before, not even during sex.
"Alright," she said, shaking off that heavy feeling she had inside. "I have given you two stories now. You've only given me one."
Unphased, Daniel shrugged as he kicked the covers up his body and shared his body heat with her. "What kind of story do you want?"
"What about your childhood?" she asked, surprising herself more than him. She never asked questions like that. Most people had boring, average childhoods. There was no reason to hear about how they broke their leg falling off their bikes at ten or how they got into all kinds of trouble with their best buddies.
"I was an Army brat. I moved all the fuck over so I never made any real friends. I made causal acquaintances feel like my oldest buddies because I had to imitate intimacy with people since I never got the chance to create it for real. My dad was a typical Army guy- hard outer shell but soft on the inside. My mom was sickly a lot. Back then, they could never quite put a finger on it, but as she got older, they figured out it was auto-immune. Lupus."
"Was," she said when he stopped talking.
"What?"
"You said your dad was and your mom was."
"Yeah, they're dead," he said, not much emotion behind it, likely indicating it had been a long time and the wounds had gotten a chance to heal. "My dad had a heart attack when I was, ah, twenty-two. My mother overdosed on her pain pills about six months later. They couldn't say for sure if it was accidental or not. But I know it wasn't. She couldn't cope without him. He was her caretaker, her everything. She didn't know how to exist without him."
"That's almost sweet in an incredibly sad way."
He nodded, reaching
out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "How about I raise you a story and you owe me another one down the road when you're comfortable enough?"
"Sure."
"Well, you gave me a relationship story so I will give you one."
"A relationship story?" she asked with a smirk. "You don't seem like the type."
"The type for what? For relationships? I think everyone is a relationship type at some time or another. It depends on the time in your life and the person."
She got the distinct impression he was telling her that for a reason. And her heart squeezed a little at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he was telling her because he was saying it was the right time and she might be the right person. But that was a bit too cheesy for her to she tried like hell to push those thoughts away.
"Okay so tell me a right time, right person story."
He chuckled at that. "Don't really have one of those, baby. I have a couple right people, wrong time stories. I even have one or two right time, wrong people stories. But none that were both. Obviously."
"How is that obvious?"
"Because if it was the right person and the right time, I would still be with them, wouldn't I?"
"Can't fault the logic there," she agreed, though she wasn't sure she truly believed in right times or right people. Not anymore. Maybe there was a time when you were open to relationships. And maybe there were people who you could tolerate more than others. That was about as romantic as she got. "Stop stalling."
"Alright, so I was dating a girl right out of high school. Typical young and stupid shit. Moved out together."
"This story is mildly boring," she teased and his hand moved down her back to slap her ass. It was gentle, but with the spanking earlier, it stung. "Fine, I'll shut up," she said with a smile.
"I was getting to the interesting part. So I come home from work one afternoon and the apartment was empty. At first I thought we were robbed, had my cell out to call the cops. But then I realized it wasn't tossed or anything. It was fucking empty. She even took the rolls of toilet paper out of the cabinet," he said, smiling at the memory.
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