by T Gephart
Meanwhile, there was a pair of cheetahs fucking on the television, the previously safe Discovery Channel had degraded into animal porn.
Everything was literally conspiring against me.
“Yep, big day tomorrow.” He ignored the sex on the screen, his lips edging into a grin. “Goodnight.”
Just like that.
Goodnight.
Forcing my eyes shut and keeping my breathing level, I tried to will myself to sleep. When willing didn’t work, I moved to bargaining, promising to pamper myself tomorrow with a pedicure and a massage if my body agreed to shut down. Whatever it took.
I turned on my side, grabbing blindly for the remote control and shutting off the television, hoping the darkness would make it easier—it didn’t.
Instead of getting sleepy I was confronted by the stark fluorescent numbers of the hotel clock ticking by one agonizing minute at a time every single time I opened my eyes.
At some point either my body had given out or my bargaining with Jesus had been successful, because when I woke up it was five a.m. It was still dark in the room, the glow of that obnoxious digital clock the only illumination there was.
My body was stiff, tight as I uncoiled myself from the weird curled-up position I’d slept in. Pins and needles tingled as my limbs regained circulation, stretching myself out as I breathed a sigh of relief.
Carefully, trying to make my movements as casual as possible, I angled my head to the other side of the bed. By some miracle last night, I had managed to forget about the naked hottie, but I didn’t have the same blessing in the early hours of the morning.
The limited light gave me just enough illumination to see that he was blissfully still asleep. His face was relaxed, his eyes closed while his lips slightly parted.
He’d pushed down the covers, the most spectacular torso I’d seen in a long time disappearing into bunched sheets that pooled at his hips.
Without any of the shame I should have had, I ogled him. Floated over his fit muscular body with my eyes like my hands were dying to do. It was like I was suspended in the moment, watching from the sidelines like a spectator, and I couldn’t look away.
I blinked a couple of times, making sure I was really conscious and this wasn’t a dream, my finger nails digging into my palm, confirming I was in fact awake.
A barely audible groan passed through his lips, his hands pushing the covers lower. My eyes widened as it exposed more flesh, hovering only an inch or so before becoming indecent.
“Shit,” I cursed under my breath, wondering when I’d become a creepy voyeur. I should have been horrified with my behavior and pray for forgiveness for objectifying the man like a piece of meat. But instead of seeking penance like I ought to, my mind was trying to Jedi mind trick the covers to slip just a little bit lower.
This is not the body you were looking to cover.
I whispered it again and again, stopping short of waving my hand like an Obi-Wan Kenobi version of Jesus.
That was what it had come to; I was summoning the Force in an effort to do my depraved bidding. And the fact I wasn’t ashamed of myself could only mean bad things.
I needed to get out of bed, get a cold shower and get dressed. It didn’t matter that it was ridiculously early in the morning and I had nowhere to be for the next five hours, I would find a way to occupy my time that wouldn’t result in a stalking charge.
Reading the Bible might be a good place to start.
Before I could change my mind, I lifted the covers strategically—with as little noise as possible—and slipped out of the bed. I dropped to the floor like a possum falling out of a tree but thankfully he didn’t move, his eyes and his breathing remained the same as I commando crawled on the floor, picking up my discarded bedclothes.
I needed to get them on, get into the bathroom and—
There was another soft groan, my eyes widening as I rose from my place on the floor. My discarded clothes forgotten as I left them where they were and peered over the edge of the mattress. His hand had disappeared under the covers, resting where I assumed his cock was.
Watching him touch himself was the biggest turn-on ever, my body flushing hot all over as I felt myself get wet. If I had thought last night had been difficult, it was nothing compared to dealing with the morning. I dropped any pretense of getting dressed, forgetting why I was even out of bed in the first place as I kneeled beside the mattress and stared. Arm muscles flexed as he gave himself one long stroke, his legs kicking apart to give himself more room.
If I had been a decent person I would have left, allowed him to have his moment in private and pretend I hadn’t seen what I had. The key word was decent, and I was almost positive I wasn’t. At least I didn’t want to be, and I didn’t want to miss what was probably the sexiest thing I’d seen in a long time.
There was another heavy breath and another long stroke, my place from the floor no longer adequate as I felt myself stand. All rational thought stopped, my mind unable to think about anything else other than what was going on in front of me.
Slow and steady his hand moved, pumping against his shaft while his jaw tightened. I wasn’t sure whether I should go over there and give him a hand or touch myself like I was dying to do, both options more appealing than standing around doing nothing.
God it was hot, so freaking erotic that I could feel myself wanting to come even though I wasn’t involved. His eyes slid open, freezing me in my place as his hand stopped what it was doing. No words were spoken, lowering his gaze from my eyes to my body, stopping at my breasts.
He licked his lips, my nipples stiffening like they’d been the ones tongued as he continued his visual tour down. I didn’t try and hide, standing still as he looked at me.
“You like watching me?” he asked, his eyes moving back to mine.
I nodded, the “yes” coming out almost immediately. My honesty was startling, yet there wasn’t a thing I wanted to do to stop it.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
“Then come back to bed.”
There was no argument, my body getting back in between the sheets. I had no idea what was going to happen next, but I knew I wanted it.
There was no thought process, no weighing up whether or not it would be a good idea, my body on autopilot as I moved closer and stretched out my hand.
Under the covers I reached for him, feeling his fingers curled around his hard cock. I didn’t even ask, my hand covering the top of his as I guided him up toward the crown.
“Are you wet?” His eyes blazed, letting me lead him with each pump.
I squeezed hard, moving a little faster with each pass. “Yes.”
“Let me touch you.”
It was both a question and a statement, his hand stopping under mine.
With his other hand he pulled down the sheets, exposing us both. And while he had already seen me naked, it was the first time I was being treated to what was under the covers.
One finger at a time he lifted, my hand coming away as he unwrapped from his shaft, the large hard cock underneath begging for attention.
The hand he’d been jerking off with slid up my thigh, the weight of his palm getting me hotter the closer it got to my center.
It shouldn’t have been happening, the sex almost too intimate. The statement in itself was ridiculous for a one-night-stand, and yet it felt so right.
Him touching me—felt right.
I no longer questioned or cared if it was wrong, and how no man had ever made me feel this good.
“What do you want, Jessica?”
His finger dipped lower, teasing me, driving me crazier with each pass.
My hips bucked, forcing more contact as my hand went back to his cock. “I want to see you come.”
“Just me?” He tilted his head, his wet fingers circling my clit.
My hand curled around his length, tightening on the upstroke. “No, not just you.”
“Good, because I won’t come until you do
.” He smiled, his fingers plunging into me.
I gasped, “Yes,” lifting my ass off the bed and felt him go deeper. My hand moving faster as it twisted up and down his erection.
He groaned, getting harder in my hand as I jerked him, and I could feel he was close, his body tensing as he fought the urge to come.
“Fuck I want you,” he whispered against my lips, bringing his mouth to mine and kissing me hard as he added another finger. I kissed him back, rocking my hips while he did the same, fucking my fist as I gripped him tight.
It was impossible to tell which felt better, what he was doing to my body or the control I had over his, but I felt myself go over in a sudden, heated rush.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I panted, my body shaking as he continued to thumb my clit. His finish wasn’t far behind, his cock pulsing in my hand before exploding all over his stomach.
The pleasure echoed in my body, my grip around him loosening as I kept my gaze locked with his. He watched me as I rolled to my side, bringing my mouth to his abs and then licked the mess he’d made off his skin.
“I want to be inside of you,” he growled, his eyes narrowing as I lapped. “Making you come on my hand isn’t even close to how good I can make you feel.”
“That goes both ways.” I laughed, kissing and nipping my way up his chest.
There was no stopping me; the seal had been broken and I wanted more of what he’d just given me. I wanted to feel him deep inside, thrusting and pulsing while I rode the hell out him.
It would probably be my only chance and I was sure as hell going to make it count.
He pulled me back to his mouth, kissing me while he palmed my breast, squeezing hard as I moved my body to straddle him. I could already feel him getting hard, lengthening between my legs as I rubbed against him.
“I want to be on top.” I moaned as he took my nipple in his mouth and sucked.
He smiled against my skin, biting gently before moving to the other breast. “We can start there, we’ll just have to leave it up to fate where we finish.”
I wasn’t about to argue, closing my eyes as he tongued my nipple, so close already to an orgasm I was almost embarrassed.
His erection was ready for round two as I reached down between us and gripped him. He hissed, inhaling sharply as I pumped him twice and then held him upright.
He shuffled a little on the bed, forcing me to lose my grip on him as he paid special attention to my breasts. My mind blacked out, closing my eyes tight as I got lost in the sensation, only barely being aware he’d gone back to touching himself too. Or at least that’s what I assumed he was doing, his hard-on brushing against my wet core as he tugged between his legs.
Shifting me into position, his hands gave up on himself and concentrated on me. Our eyes connected as he positioned himself at my entrance, my hips pushing down as I impaled myself on his length. A moan escaped from my lips as I took him all the way to the root.
“Fuck me,” he demanded, circling my hips with his hands as he encouraged me to move. “Fuck me, Jess, like I can feel you want to.”
He was right; I was desperate to. Anchoring myself, I gripped his shoulders as I started to move, taking him in and out of my body with fast urgent thrusts.
I was a woman possessed, no longer in control of my mind or my body, and I didn’t care how irrational it seemed.
“Yes.” He drove in deeper, rocking with me and increasing the friction.
Harder and faster I bucked, desperately chasing the high as I kissed him. “God, you feel so good,” I moaned. “This feels so good.”
“I’ll make it better.” His back jerked off the bed, pulling out of me in a rush. He lifted us both, flipped me onto my back before covering me with his body. I barely had time to register the change in position, his cock reentering me the minute my back hit the mattress. He pulled my knees up, getting himself in deeper with each drive of his hard length until I couldn’t hold out any longer.
“Dave,” I screamed, my body feeling like it was splintering into a million pieces. “Dave.”
Every muscle in his body tightened, primed for his own explosion as he hissed out my name, every part of me shuddering as he came with a shout. He pulsed inside of me, my eyes closing as I absorbed every single minute of it.
It was amazing, my fingers automatically pinching myself again just to be sure I was actually awake and this wasn’t some elaborate sex dream I was having. The sting of my fingernails and the two orgasms he’d given me were proof that it wasn’t.
It was better than I could have ever imagined, my body hoping it wouldn’t be the last time. I wasn’t sure if it was because my brain was sleep logged or the orgasms had me off kilter but the awkwardness of a first time wasn’t there with him. Or maybe it was because I wasn’t trying to impress him and overthink every single thing I did. It was liberating and exciting and I wanted more of it.
All those reasons I had to not have sex with him were stupid, and there was no reason we couldn’t have sex if we both wanted to. As long as we were both on the same page, which I was sure we would be.
He lowered himself, covering me like a blanket, as I breathed in his scent. I loved feeling him heavy against me, the weight of him making me sleepy.
“I wear you out?” He chuckled against my ear, licking my neck. “You have a few more hours before we have to get up, why don’t you get some more sleep.”
I nodded, making my mouth say the words seemed to take too much effort as I felt him lift off me and roll onto his side of the bed.
“Sleep, beautiful.” He kissed my mouth, the pet name sounding more sincere than the other ones he’d used, and for the first time, I liked it. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.”
My lips parted into an O, yawning as I nestled into the pillow. I knew what we’d done was going to need a conversation, and I had every intention of talking about it.
Later.
It could wait until later.
OH.
My.
God.
I woke up in a rush, my body jerking from the bed.
What the hell did I do?
What the HELL did I do?
The memory of the early morning came back to me as the panic set in. I’d not only had sex with Dave—a man who was my make-believe boyfriend—but I’d had UNPROTECTED sex with him.
My head whipped around, looking to his side of the bed and finding it empty. The sheets were mussed, so at least he’d been there at some point, but the body of the hot dude I’d had irresponsible sex with was MIA.
Perfect.
So not only was I the dumbest person of all time—unprotected sex with a man who wasn’t even my boyfriend—but he’d obviously been so fucking horrified that he’d left right after.
Like a fucking drive by.
Oh my God, I hope he didn’t go back to L.A.
I kicked off the covers, ignoring my nakedness and the soreness in my muscles, and immediately started investigating my surroundings. My cellphone was still beside the clock on the nightstand, the time displayed just before nine. Well, at least I hadn’t slept till noon.
Next I checked the bathroom, my body sagging against the wall as I found it too—empty. Nothing else was out of place, the wet shower stall and a towel hanging on a hook the only evidence he’d even been in there. So if nothing else, I knew he had good hygiene practices, washing the sex off before he hit the door.
Pulling on one of the hotel-provided robes, I wandered out into the living area, finding no Dave and/or clues.
Thankfully his luggage was right where he’d left it, so if nothing else he’d eventually have to come back, which only made the situation slightly better than it was. My body collapsed into one of the sofas as my head fell into my hands. How—and I do mean how—could I have been so fucking stupid?
Thank God I hadn’t paid him yet, a voice in my head whispered, like that fucking silver lining was helpful at this point. Not to mention that I had to figure out how to tell my goddamn family that he’
d split. Oh, and then get freaking tested for every disease known to man. God I hoped he didn’t give me something that was going to kill me or make my uterus drop out.
OH. FUCK.
What if I was pregnant?
Was it worse to be dying or to be carrying his bastard child?
I felt my vision get wavy, my breath coming out in fast short bursts. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to work out that I was hyperventilating. At least I was sitting down, the chances of me hitting my head on the coffee table and killing myself were dramatically reduced by the fact I was no longer on my feet.
Instinctively I put my head down to my knees, trying to not black out. There was nothing good about the situation. My hormones—the traitors, that they were—had taken my otherwise perfect life and flushed it down the toilet, turning it into the nightmare it was now.
“Are you okay?”
The door of the suite slammed, making me jump as Dave walked toward me.
He looked concerned, pulling his shades from his face and sinking to his knees in front of me. “Jess, you don’t look well.”
You think? I would have yelled if I’d had enough oxygen in my lungs in order to talk and remain conscious. I was choosing straight breathing for now, at least until I could be somewhat sure I wasn’t going to pass out.
“Breathe.” He rubbed my back, his fresh man scent invading my nose as he leaned closer. “Breathe.”
While I was glad he was back—that he didn’t screw me and leave was certainly a victory for the day—I was still a long way from celebrating.
“What did we do?” I coughed out, my eyes so wide I was surprised they didn’t drop out.
He stopped rubbing my back, his thumb moving to my chin as he looked me in the eyes. “Please tell me you’re fucking with me and you remember what we did this morning.” His concern deepened.
“I know we had sex, of course I remember that.” The words felt raw in my throat, my voice hoarse. The best sex of my life wasn’t something I was going to forget in a hurry, especially if I was carrying his child. There was one hell of a souvenir; I would have preferred a commemorative T-shirt.