by JB Salsbury
A part of me aches for things to be different. I don’t know Braeden that well, but what I do know I really like. The thought of getting to know him better, of dating him exclusively, it all sounds great on paper, but that’s not what I’m here for. I didn’t move to Vegas to get caught up in romance and forget about my goals.
I want to be somebody. I want the nice house and the luxury car. I want designer clothes, extravagant vacations, and all the glitz and glamour life has to offer. As sexy and sweet and funny as Braeden is, anything more than sex with him would be a roadblock to my end game.
I lean forward and brush my mouth against his. “I don’t need promises. I only want to live in this moment with you, whatever that means, and not think about tomorrow or a week or a year from now.” I slide my hands up his shirt, and oh wow, his skin is like the warmest silk. “Can we please do that? Can we just live in the now?”
His chest rises and falls faster as I reach his nipples and run the pads of my thumbs over them. “Whatever you want.”
We come back together in a soft, controlled kiss that quickly becomes frantic. My heart pounds as he tugs my shirt and sports bra off over my head. I’m grateful the lights are off so he can’t see my less-than-impressive breasts, but when his hands cup them, he lets out a reverent curse that has me rocking my hips harder against him. He gently toys with my nipples and then pushes himself up to suck them deep into his mouth. I arch my back, only to have him chase me down so that we’re both sitting upright, my legs wide and me sitting high on his lap. He commands every muscle in my body with the slightest flick of his tongue or pinch of his grip as if I’m an instrument and he’s my maestro. I’m lost in the sensations of his hot mouth and firm touch, my skin on fire with want until I’m ripping at his shirt.
“Hop up.” He lifts me just enough to get me on my knees, and I stagger while he makes quick work of getting his shirt off.
Even in the dark, I can see the bulges of muscles that make up his shoulders, and I desperately search for a source of light—the lamp, a phone, a fucking lighter, anything—because I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to see him like this again.
He shifts beneath me but only slightly, and then his fingers pinch my chin and pull our mouths close. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I was just looking for a source of illumination so I could see how hot you are without a shirt on.
“Nothing, huh?” He doesn’t seem convinced, but pulls me back to sit on his—oh my gosh! The heat of his bare hard-on presses against the thin fabric of my leggings, and I gasp at how big he is.
Like ice cream in the summer, I melt onto his body, every muscle releasing tension and becoming pliable to his hand.
I roll my hips, rock against him, swivel from side to side until he’s panting and groaning into my neck.
“I’m going to ruin these pants if you don’t get them off.” The heat and desperation in his voice empowers me, and I rub against him again. “I’m serious, woman. I will poke a hole right through this shit to get inside you.”
I push to standing so that the apex of my thighs is at his eye level, and even though I know he can’t see me well, I know he can see enough to watch as I slowly peel my leggings down. He leans back on his hands and watches the strip tease until I’m standing before him in nothing but my thin athletic thong.
With one long arm, he reaches out and grips me behind my thigh. I don’t fight him as he pulls it forward and rests it over his shoulder, opening myself up to him in a way that I never would be comfortable with if we weren’t in the dark.
He traces the line of my thong with his thick index finger in slow deliberate passes until the leg holding up my weight wobbles. And when I think he’s about to show me some mercy, he slips the fabric aside and continues the torture on my bare flesh.
“Braeden . . .” My breath catches in my throat as he sinks his finger inside.
“So soft.” He turns and kisses the inside of my thigh, dragging his tongue up until it meets his finger.
I use my leg at his shoulder to tuck him in tighter, to lock him to the most sensitive part of me that he’s lavishing with thick, long lashes of his tongue. My chin falls forward, and I watch the outline of his head bob between my legs from the privacy of the dark curtains of my hair. A low, animal-like purr bubbles up from my chest, and he responds by rumbling against me. Stars explode behind my eyes as he continues to work me until I’m forced to lean on him to keep from collapsing.
When he’s finally had his fill, he places my leg back on the floor and pulls me by the backs of my knees to straddle him again. The cool, tacky feeling of a condom brushes my inner thigh as I lower myself onto him.
When did he get that on?
I rub myself against him, enjoying the way his huge body makes me feel so tiny.
He kisses me, his hands stilling my hips to keep them from moving. “Last chance to back out. You say the word and we’ll stop.”
“No, I don’t want to stop. I like this.” I try to move against him, but he’s too strong.
“So happy to hear that, baby.” He licks along my neck and jawline to my ear. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”
Before the final word is out of his mouth, he pushes inside me.
My lungs suck in as much oxygen they can to keep me from passing out at the sensation of our bodies coming together.
“Shit.” He spits the curse through clenched teeth. “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”
I try to lift up, but he holds me down.
“No, no, no, not yet, just . . .” His breath is hot and delicious against my neck. “Give me a second.”
As I pepper his mouth with kisses and pull his lips between my teeth, he slowly begins to kiss me back. His hold on my hips loosens, and I move cautiously to get used to the feeling of him filling me.
He leans into me, and I lock my hands behind his neck to keep from falling backwards, only to have him slowly lower me to the floor. I expect the bite of the cold, cheap tile on my back but only feel the warm cocoon of his arms as he wraps me up. His big palm is a pillow behind my head as our positions are flipped so that he’s now on top of me.
His pace remains slow, languid rolls of his hips as he licks his way into my mouth. I arch my back for him to go deeper, and he accepts the invitation.
In the dark, with a man I hardly know, time becomes irrelevant and nothing exists but us. Even when his thrusts turn desperate and uncoordinated, he seems to be wholly focused on me, never once allowing my skin to touch the cool floor.
The pleasure builds so quickly that I hardly have time to brace when the orgasm crashes over me. If my neighbors thought us falling to the floor was loud, no doubt they heard the feral moan fall from my lips when Braeden managed to move in such a way that extended my orgasm to the point where I didn’t think I could take another second without dying.
I blink open my eyes while floating back to earth, and his fingers bite into my ass as he grunts loud and long into my neck before collapsing on my chest.
We’re both breathing heavily when he rolls so that I’m back on top of him, but still connected. “Yeah, we are definitely doing that again.”
I feel lighter and more relaxed than I’ve felt in years, and I chuckle with my cheek pressed to his warm pec. “Now that sounds like a promise, Mr. Daniels.”
He smacks my ass and moans. “So it is, Miss, um . . .”
My giggle matures to full-blown laughter at the discomfort I hear in Braeden’s voice.
He brings a hand to his face, either to rub his forehead or run a hand through his short hair. “This is awkward.”
“Why? Because you slept with a girl whose last name you don’t even know?” I can’t stop laughing now.
“Har harr, muffin. Laugh it up.”
“Ew, stop calling me muffin.”
“Ew? Muffins are awesome.”
“They’re awesome to eat, but no one wants to be a muffin.”
His stubby nails dig into my ass. “You’re aw
esome to eat.” His voice is so low and rumbly and full of lust, and I can feel him harden between my legs. “Pines!!! Your last name is Pines!”
I push up and stare down at him through the darkness. “How did you know that?”
“I intend to know everything about you, Miss Pines.”
“No, but really . . .” How the hell did he know that?
“I can’t see you, but I can feel you freaking out, so . . . I heard your Rico Suave boss call you that when we met.”
“Rico Suave?” So, Braeden didn’t miss Mr. Monroe’s appeal either.
“He looks like that Ricky Martin guy, but smarmier.”
“Yeah, I guess he does. Definitely smarmier.”
“My ass is killin’ me. Any chance I can get you into your bed?”
“I think so.” I flex my legs. “I’ve regained feeling in my limbs, so yeah.”
“Eh, what can I say? I give fantastic orgasms.”
“Cocky much?”
“Take me to your bed and I’ll show you cocky.”
Five
Braeden
My eyes pop open, and for a few seconds, I have no fucking idea where I am.
It isn’t until I feel the warm, soft body curled up to me, the mess of chestnut hair fanned out all over my torso, and the perfect ache between my legs that I remember.
AJ.
Fuck me, but the woman has stamina. Her cardio game is on point, probably because of her job. I ran through every condom I had stashed in my wallet and had to move on to using my hands and mouth before I was able to bring her to exhaustion.
A slow smile spreads across my face.
It was a nice change of pace to be with a woman who could keep up.
As I lie here reminiscing about last night, my eyes slide to the mini blinds. It’s still dark outside, which means it’s probably around five in the morning. Looks like I slept in.
Not unexpected after the sex machine here laid me on my ass. Best workout I’d had in a long time.
Wanting to check my phone and take a leak, I carefully slip out of bed—
“When do you leave?” Her voice is sleep-scratchy and sexy.
I settle back in and drag her close. “I didn’t know you were awake.”
She tilts her head up, resting her chin on my chest. “Did I just catch you sneaking out?”
The way one eye scrunches up and her mouth quirks at the side makes me think she wouldn’t be pissed if I was, which sucks for some reason.
“No, I was going to get my phone to see what time it is and take a piss.”
She drops her cheek back to my chest. “TMI.”
I chuckle. “You asked.”
“Do you always get up this early?”
“Yeah, side effect of military life.”
She sighs but then pushes up, and I love that she doesn’t take the sheet with her but instead bares her naked body to the room. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she rubs her eyes and then wraps her arms around her shins. Unable to control it, I reach out and run my hand over her back, enjoying the feel of her lean muscles beneath velvet skin. “I had fun last night.”
Fuck, that’s a stupid thing to say, but it’s the truth.
She turns to rest her cheek on her knees, her hair a mess around her face, and she smiles. “Me too. You didn’t answer my question, when do you leave?”
“I’ll take you back to your car—”
“No. I mean when do you go home? When are you leaving Vegas?”
“I have to be back at Pendleton by tomorrow night.”
I don’t know what I expect, but it’s not the casual and indifferent shrug I get. “Okay.” She pushes off her bed, and I lock myself in place to keep from chasing her as a lion does an antelope and taking her to the floor. “I’ll get dressed and you can bring me to my car.”
“Wait.” I throw my legs over the side of the bed with the same lack of modesty and make no attempt to cover my junk.
Her eyes rake over me, and hunger flares in their pale brown depths. Yeah, she wants me.
“Let’s hang out again. Tonight.”
“I work—”
“After work. Come to my room at the hotel. We’ll order room service and—”
“And?” She cocks one smooth and very naked hip, her small perky breasts shoved out in defiance.
“And . . . watch a movie?” Or fuck, ya know . . . your call.
A slow smile pulls her lips. “Can we do it naked?”
“Fu—uh . . . I mean, whatever. Yeah, I—”
“I’ll be there.” She turns on her heel and disappears into the bathroom.
I take a few deep breaths, trying to regain my equilibrium. AJ is different from any girl I’ve met. She’s confident, talented, funny, and just about as sexy as anything I’ve ever seen.
She’s not putting any demands on me and seems to want to hang out just as much as I do. Naked is good. I can do naked.
She’s like every man’s dream in the flesh.
This is going to be great. I’ll be able to see her when I come to town. We’ll hang out, hook up, and then high-five it until next time.
Best of everything.
Yeah . . . this is going to be great.
~*~
AJ
“This could get ugly.” Braeden’s legs are spread wide as he rocks back and forth in side lunges to stretch his massive inner thighs. “Don’t feel like you have to be tough. If you can’t keep up, let me know, and I’ll slow my pace, sugar lips.”
I’m doing some stretching of my own, grabbing my laces to open up my quads, and my eye muscles are getting a good workout ogling the man in front of me. “Has anyone ever accused you of being too confident?”
Not that he doesn’t have every right to be.
Braeden took me to my car at the hotel early, but I wasn’t ready to say good-bye, so I invited him to go for a run. He changed his clothes and followed me to the park, and it wasn’t until he was walking toward me that I got a good look at what he was wearing.
A military green T-shirt hugs his chest and shoulders and is paired with shorts of a similar color that display the powerful width of his thighs. A baseball hat, a worn-out navy blue one with no writing, looks well-loved and forms to his head but hides his eyes. The cap seems to soften his intimidating presence, giving him a boy-like charm that matches his playful grin.
“Has anyone ever accused you of pointing out the obvious?” He stands up from his stretch and shakes out his legs.
“Is that even a thing?” I unzip my light jacket because, even though it’s still early and there’s a chill in the air, I know the run will warm me up quickly.
His gaze is drawn to my chest then drops lower to my stomach and then even lower to my spandex shorts. I tie the sleeves around my waist, and that seems to knock his eyes back up to mine. “You’re not going to wear a shirt?”
“I’m wearing a shirt.”
“That’s a bra.”
“It’s a sports bra.”
He opens his mouth to say something but must change his mind as he slams it shut. “Okay, FloJo, you lead the way.”
I start off at a slow jog, and Braeden has no problem keeping pace. Even though I was teasing him earlier, he’s probably right. With his rigorous military training, there’s no doubt he’d be able to smoke me running the mile, but I think he likes when I give him a hard time.
The slight tilt of his lips and the hungry look in his eyes tell me my harassing him may very well be a turn-on.
His feet are nearly silent on the pavement, which is shocking for his size. We jog until my muscles are warm and loose.
“You ready to pick it up?”
“Yeah.” He’s not even breathing heavily! “I’m following you.”
I don’t dare speak because I need all the oxygen I can keep as I continue to run, but now at a faster pace.
I don’t miss the way women stare at Braeden when he passes or the way little kids point him out as if they’re seeing a real-life superhero in the fl
esh. After the first lap, I pick it up and jog faster. As I always do when I run, I begin to zone out. It’s as if nothing in the world exists except me and the pavement beneath my feet. The breeze cools my sweat-soaked skin, and if it weren’t for the steady breathing beside me, I’d forget Braeden was even here.
With every lap around the park, I pick up the pace and he stays right with me. I don’t doubt that he could easily lap me, but he holds back, staying shoulder-to-shoulder. Right around the five-mile mark, I get winded but refuse to be the first to give up, so rather than him keeping pace with me, I keep pace with him.
Another lap.
Two more.
And finally . . . he slows.
“Motherfuck . . .” He’s breathing heavily. “Do you ever quit?” Stopped, he locks his hands behind his head, his shirt soaked in sweat, and breathes.
“Never.” I hardly get the word out with the lack of oxygen getting to my head. I’m dizzy, so I drop to the grass, the itchy reeds sticking to my wet skin, as I focus on not throwing up.
He paces in front of me, catching his breath, and once he does, he drops to my side. “Shit, woman. You ever consider being a Marine?” He takes off his hat, swipes his forehead with the back of his hand, then pops it back on. “’Cause I know about ten guys you’d smoke on the track.”
“Nah . . .” The sky has stopped spinning, so I push up on my elbows. “Military doesn’t pay enough.”
He looks down at me with an amused grin. “Ah . . . so it’s about the money, is it? Not the glory.”
Feeling a little exposed, but having no need to lie, I confess, “Is that such a bad thing to want to be rich?”
He shrugs.
“It’s not like I’m not willing to work my ass off for it. I want to work hard to have nice things.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” His big hand lands on my thigh, and he massages my muscle with his thumb. “You cramping up?”