Second Go-Round

by Lynn Burke

  A spark of unease rippled down my spine at the intimacy—the energy—seeming to snap between us, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop kissing her soft lips.

  While Elite’s only strict policy focused on safe words for BDSM play and satisfying clients, I usually stayed away from leisurely kissing while fucking. Too many emotions. Too much danger of creating a bond I had no desire for.

  Christine moaned into my mouth, her hips wiggling as though she needed more. I forced my lips off hers, palmed the side of her large breast, and brought the hard nipple to my mouth.

  Her back arched and nails dug into my scalp as I nibbled. “Mmm.”

  A few more laves in time with my rotating hips, and I thrust hard, biting down on her nipple at the same time.

  “Oh, fuck!”

  I did it again, my gaze on her face. Eyes clenched shut, head tipped back, mouth slightly open as she emitted that telltale whine…

  Propped on an elbow, my fingers still grasping the soft flesh of her breast, I snaked my other hand between us. I rubbed my thumb along her protruding clit, and she writhed beneath me.

  “More.” She gasped, lifting her hips against my hand with each slow, full thrust of my cock. “More,” she whined again as I continued my slow torture. “Please!”

  Biting back a grin, I sucked her nipple deep into my mouth, my thumb flicking and stopping before she crested.

  “Goddamn it, Jarod!” Christine dug her nails into my back. “Fucking fuck me already!”

  Good enough.

  I upped my pace, wishing like hell I had her soaked cunt clutching at my cock with nothing between us. Her wet heat squeezing me tight. I bit and pinched one last time before straightening so our foreheads rested against each other’s again.

  Giving over to the need to fuck like an animal, I changed the angle of my hips and let loose, giving it to her hard and fast, my pubic bone bruising against hers with every thrust.

  Her body convulsed, nails dug deeper, but I ignored the stinging pain. She shrieked, her dripping cunt like a vice grip on my cock.

  Jaw clenched, I rode her orgasm out. “One more,” I choked out between my teeth and reached for her clit.

  Christine gave over with a loud groan, her clutching inner walls pulling on me, and I let go of my hold. My climax shot up through my legs into my tight-as-hell balls, and I exploded into the condom, teeth clenched against growling out her name.

  Aftershocks rippled through me as I rested my body against hers. Forehead to forehead, both heaving for breath, we inhaled the other’s exhales.

  Our eyes opened at the same time.

  A fucking hammer slammed me in the chest as her green eyes, sated and hazed by passion, reached clear down to my soul.

  What the fuck?

  Her gaze cleared, became guarded. She smiled, but the upturned lips appeared forced. “I need another beer.”

  I rolled off her without a word, hand on my chest, focused on the ceiling while trying to catch my breath. What the fuck was that? And why did her shutting me out hurt?

  Fuck.

  My attention roamed to her ass as she padded across the floor and bent to pick up her clothing, her round ass and thighs watering my mouth even though I’d just busted a nut like I hadn’t done in a long-ass time.

  I had almost said her name while blowing my load—something I’d never done with any woman. I scratched my fingers along my chest.

  Three times, I’d promised her.

  She wanted impersonal? I’d give her one last fuck she’d never forget, without a single emotion to confuse either of us. Hell, it’s what I got paid to do.

  Christine

  After tossing my dirty clothes in the hamper, I grabbed a long Pat’s t-shirt from a drawer and tugged it on—all without glancing at my bed and the beautiful slab of man-beef that had just rocked my world.

  He’s an escort, I reminded myself while hightailing it to the kitchen. He gets paid to fuck like that—the shared breaths, emotional gazes bullshit. He’s not the guy I need to fall for.

  I grabbed a beer from the fridge and gulped the cold bitterness until the lack of oxygen released my lips. Mind turning to my growling stomach, I riffled through my near-empty cabinets.

  The shuffling of feet announced Jarod’s arrival in the kitchen.

  “I’m starved,” I said without turning and pulling open the fridge again. “You hungry?”

  “Food sounds good.”

  God, the timbre of his low voice… “I’ve got bunny greens, leftover rotisserie chicken…” Squeezing my thighs together, I yanked open the freezer, a grin finally relaxing me. “Frozen waffles and Canadian bacon. Score.”

  “Bacon makes everything better.”

  I hummed my agreement and grabbed a frying pan, trying like hell to forget the presence of male perfection seeming to steal the air from my small kitchen.

  “Can I do anything to help?” he asked.

  “Pretty sure I can toast frozen waffles and nuke some bacon.” I motioned to the table. “Have a seat.”

  Three slices each into the microwave finished off the pack, and I moved into the living room to click on the TV for distraction. “Want a beer?” I asked, striding back into the kitchen, still without looking at him.

  “Water’s good.”

  “Ice?”

  “Nah.”

  I flipped the switch on my faucet to turn on the filter and filled a glass.

  “Thanks,” he murmured as I sat it on the table in front of him. “You okay?”

  “Mmm.” I popped two waffles into my toaster and pulled the butter and syrup from the fridge. Since I hadn’t kicked him out like all the other guys—and had at least one last fuck with my paid escort before night’s end—I forced myself to look at him.

  Goddamn. Mussed dark hair, dark mysterious eyes, half-squinted, shirtless, ripped muscles…

  My tongue wanted a taste. Lips tingled as his lifted in a slow smile.

  Too damn dangerous. I forced a smile in return. The toaster dinged, and I turned away again to busy myself popping in two more. “Elite’s like the perfect job,” I said. “Get paid to fuck with no strings attached. Any chance you could put in a good word for me? I could use a second income.”

  Jarod cleared his throat as I turned with our plates. A frown lined his forehead. “It helps to pay the bills.”

  I set his plate in front of him. “But?” I asked, sliding onto the chair across from him.

  “No buts.”

  “Then why the frown?” I poured syrup over my waffles and slid the bottle across the table to him.

  Fists clenched on the table beside his plate, he peered at me.

  “What?” I asked before shoving a piece of bacon in my mouth.

  He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Nothing.”

  I focused on my food and tried not to fidget until he finally picked up the syrup. We ate in silence.

  “Got a couple more in the box if you’re still hungry,” I said, breaking the stifled atmosphere a few minutes later.

  “No, I’m good.”

  My stomach twisted. Whatever had happened—whatever I’d said to make him frown—had settled heavily over us even though sports talk droned in the background.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked, pushing his cleaned plate away.

  I gripped my beer and lifted it toward my lips. “Sure.”

  “Why are you still single?”

  Snorting around my mouthful of beer, I sat the bottle back on the table. I forked my last bite of bacon. “I get bored too easily.”

  “Bored, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “The men you’ve been with obviously don’t know what they’re doing, then.”

  I lifted a brow and met his gaze. “Unlike you?”

  He grinned, flipping my stomach—in the best way possible. “I don’t hear too many complaints.”

  I smirked, but refused to stroke his ego by agreeing.

  “It’s all about knowing your woman. Her likes
and dislikes. Deepest desires and fantasies.”

  My brow pulled down for a second. “I’ve never kept a guy around long enough to get into the deep stuff.”

  “Why not?”

  “They didn’t interest me or were boring as hell.” I shrugged. “I’ve never had a chance to put myself out there like that.”

  “Can’t make a connection if you don’t allow yourself to be vulnerable.”

  “I don’t have walls up, if that’s what you mean.”

  Jarod leaned back in the chair, tipping onto its back legs. “Everyone has walls of some sort.”

  “God, enough of this deep shit already.”

  “I’m a near-stranger, hired for the night to fulfill your sexual fantasies. So…” His slow grin dampened my panties. “What are they?”

  My face heated as warmth rushed through my body.

  “Oh, this is going to be good.” He dropped the chair back onto all four legs as he leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Come on. Tell me.”

  “I want to be watched.” There. Deepest secret spurted for the first time to a male out loud.

  One of Jarod’s eyebrows rose. “An exhibitionist, huh?”

  Face even hotter, I shrugged. “Tonight on the dance floor is the closest I’ve been to being on display before, but I fantasize about it.”

  “Having someone watch you masturbate, or a crowd watching you fuck?”

  “Not a crowd.” I shifted on my seat. “One person in a dark corner, secretly, but not so secretly watching me and someone else fuck.”

  “Well, shit. Had I known that sooner, I could have brought someone along to fulfill that one.”

  I swallowed the sudden dryness from my throat. “Damn, that’d have been hot. One professional escort fucking me, another watching us…” A shudder rippled down through me as a huff of laughter flitted past my lips. “You’d ruin me for life.”

  Jarod peered at me until I shifted again. “What?” I half-whispered the word.

  “I could make a call.”

  A thrill shot through me, pulsed in my pussy even though I was close to being worn out. “Seriously?”

  “Dead. One of my best friends, an escort who enjoys watching actually, lives not too far from here.”

  “What if he’s working?”

  “What if he’s not?” Jarod shot back with a grin.

  The tip of my tongue found my top lip. “I can’t afford to pay another escort.”

  Jarod’s gaze roamed down my neck, to my pebbled nipples pressing against my t-shirt. “My treat.”

  Not that I really cared, but I glanced at the clock. I’d really rather have had the situation set up—made to look like a clandestine meeting that someone just happened to secretly take part in.

  “Or we could save it for next time,” he murmured.

  My gaze jerked back to Jarod. God, did I want to ask him what he’d meant, but I so wasn’t going there. “Tell me one of your fantasies,” I said instead.

  His focus dipped low to my pebbled nipples. “The second I first laid eyes on you moving at the club, I wanted to be buried balls-deep inside of your ass.”

  My pussy clenched, releasing enough moisture I expected a wet spot on my chair when I stood.

  “Have you had anal sex before?” he asked before I could respond.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “It was too … loving.” I snorted, shaking my head at the memory of honey-coated words and gentle nudges up my backside. “If you’re going to fuck my ass, fuck it. Don’t make love to it.”

  Jarod’s gaze burned into me.

  “What?” I asked, my breathless voice betraying my soaked panties.

  He stood and rounded the table, hand held out in invitation.

  Weakness swept through my legs, but I slid my hand into his and stood. He spun and tugged me close against his hard body like he’d done at the dance club. One arm wrapped around my waist, he released my hand and moved my hair to the side as he seemed fond of doing—and I enjoyed a little too much.

  My eyelids fluttered closed as his lips clamped onto my neck. Teeth nibbled, but not hard enough to leave a mark like the hickey on my breast, and I sagged in his arms.

  His feet shuffled forward to the island, moving me along whether I wanted to go or not. The countertop pressed against my hips, and Jarod pushed me down, chest flat against the cold granite. He kicked my feet apart and lifted my t-shirt, palming my ass through my panties.

  “You want it rough?” he whispered against my ear and ripped my panties off with one yank.

  He shoved two fingers deep inside of my soaked pussy, and my breath hitched. For the love of God, I couldn’t have answered him if I’d wanted to. Two thrusts, and he pulled out, the sound of him sucking his fingers clean and low groan slickening my pussy even more.

  “Don’t move.” Pelvis grinding against my ass and one hand fisted in my hair, he grabbed the magical black bag off the other end of the island and pulled it toward him. The sound of him riffling through the contents had me panting, heat flushing me from head to toe. I opened my eyes.

  Lube and a vibrating dildo sat beside my hip.

  He released his hold on my hair and dripped the lube onto my ass, clenching my hole. A condom ripped open, and seconds later, he slid his sheathed cock up through my crack and wrapped his hand in my hair again, pulling me upright.

  “I’m going to fuck you, Christine.” He bit down on my earlobe and reached around to run two fingers down over the sides of my clit. “If it’s too much, tell me to stop, and I will.”

  I moaned and arched into him, every inch of my body throbbing with need.

  He dipped his fingers into me again and slid them back up over my clit, pinching hard as he ground his length along my ass crack. “Okay?”

  “Yes.” I half-gasped the word.

  He pushed me down onto the island and yanked both of my arms behind my back, gathering my wrists in one of his large hands.

  The heat of his body left my backside, the tip of his sheathed cock pressed against my asshole.

  He shoved in with one thrust.

  “Fuck!” I shrieked and jerked forward, but he grabbed my hip, holding me still as I breathed through the stinging pain. He hesitated as if waiting for me to tell him to stop, but I bit my lip.

  He pulled out to the tip and slammed back in, balls deep just like he’d fantasized about.

  I flinched again, but groaned as my pussy spasmed.

  “So. Fucking. Tight,” Jarod said, his low-voiced words in time with three deep-seated thrusts.

  “Harder,” I heard myself whimper as he drove my body forward with a grunt.

  “Goddamn.” Jarod released his hold on my hip and grabbed the vibrator, snaking it between the island and my pelvis.

  The vibrator burst into action against my clit as he pulled out and shoved deep inside me once more.

  “Oh, God.” My ass lifted higher with each of his violent thrusts until I stood on my tiptoes, both of our animal-like grunts filling my ears. “I’m going to come. Holy… Jarod!” An orgasm ripped through me like I’d never experienced, body convulsing as he continued to slam into me over and over, his balls slapping against my soaked pussy.

  “That’s right, baby girl,” he ground out, pressing the vibrator harder against my clit. “Give it to me.”

  I writhed beneath him, another whine building in my chest.

  He slid the vibrator down against my pussy. “Give me one more,” he said, angling the vibrator and sliding it deep into my pussy.

  A shriek passed my dry lips, and I arched off the island, my body and mind filled, overrun by Jarod.

  One last grunt, and he buried deep, his teeth clamping down onto my shoulder as his cock jerked inside of my ass.

  The vibrator stopped buzzing, but Jarod left it inside of me. My muscles slackened, and I sagged onto the island, the cool granite caressing my cheek as I rested my head. Satisfied and completely sated for the first time in … well, ever. I sm
iled.

  Jarod ran his hands down my back, grasped my ass cheeks, and slowly backed out.

  A shudder rippled down through me, but I didn’t move from my island prop.

  “Any complaints?” he asked before placing a kiss between my shoulder blades.

  I huffed a laugh. “Not a single fucking one.”

  ****

  Intent on the coffeepot, I meandered past the island, images from the evening before heating my blood and twinging me between my thighs.

  “So.” Jess’s barely held excitement came through loud and clear over the line.

  I grinned but waited.

  “Come on. Spill already. How’d it go?”

  “How long have you been awake, wanting to call me?” I asked while reaching for the coffeepot.

  “An hour. Well?”

  “It was fan-fucking-tastic.”

  Jess laughed in my ear. “Could the poor man even walk when you finally sent him on his way?”

  Well-acquainted with my stories of past conquests and need for more, Jess claimed to never tire of hearing about the latest. She blamed her enjoyment of my single life on pregnancy hormones.

  “Six or so for me—I lost count.” I finished pouring my second cup. “Three for him.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yep. Best lay in…” My brow scrunched as I considered and put the pot back. “My life, really.”

  “Double damn.”

  “He’s scary,” I whispered across the rim of my mug as a shiver slid down my spine. “I could totally fall for him.”

  “Oh boy.”

  I swallowed the hot, black brew while closing my eyes. “Felt the stirrings of emotion. The connection. He’s the kind of guy who would hold my attention for quite a while.” My eyelids popped open. “I’d grow bored eventually, though, and end up breaking his heart like all the rest.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “He’s one scary SOB.”

  “Going to see him again?” Jess asked, bringing to mind Jarod’s suggestion of the “next time.”

  “Too expensive to book on a regular schedule, but if I could … hot damn, tasty.”

  “Other than the sex, how was your night?”

  “We hardly spoke at all, but I found out the two most important things. He loves beer and sports.”

  Jess laughed. “A match made in heaven.”