Well. I grin and touch myself. “Like that?”
He groans. “Fuck yeah.”
“You like watching?”
He groans. Okay, he’s not one for talking right in the middle of sex.
I think I might be, though. We’ll have to test that out. “I got myself off in the shower, thinking about watching you jerk yourself off.”
Another groan, and his steady pace falters.
“I wanted to lick it up after—” I shriek as he shoves me…up the bed, sort of. I don’t know, exactly. One minute I was touching myself and he was above me, then he was on top of me and my hand is trapped between our bodies. His mouth is next to mine, sharing harsh, desperate breaths as he slams into me, harder and faster until I seize up around him.
With a few harsh jerks, he comes with me.
As my heart rate returns to normal, I realize I’ve bit him on the shoulder.
His hands are fused to my ass. He grabbed me so hard I might have bruises in the morning.
I can feel his heart thudding against mine.
Wow.
“So…” I say breathlessly. “Sex is kind of fun.”
—eighteen—
Scott
Ali is insatiable. Even though it’s her last month of classes and she’s got final papers and exams to study for, she’s texting me almost every night.
I’m not complaining. The sex is fantastic.
But that’s all we’re doing. At first her school work and my occasional trip back and forth to New York are good covers, but eventually I realize that…sex is really, genuinely all she wants.
I’m a fucking pussy, because I’m a little hurt by that. Which isn’t fair to women like Ali, who has managed to have a healthy sexual relationship right out of the gate, no strings attached. She could teach me a thing or two if I wasn’t such a stubborn idiot.
Instead, I decide to push the question and fuck up what is a perfect booty call relationship.
It’s been two days since I’ve been over there, so I’m guessing tonight she’s going to want a late night visit. I send a pre-emptive shot across the bow.
S: Studying late tonight? Want a dinner break?
A: I’ll get a sandwich at the cafeteria. But I’ll let you know when I’m done…
I let it go, and pick her up at the library at half-past ten, right on schedule. We go back to her place and she offers me ice cream, which leads to lick it off each other’s torsos and slow, amazing sex on a chair in the middle of her kitchen. She rides me and I lick the last bit of sweet cream off her tits.
It’s not until we’ve cleaned up and she’s packing me out the door that I remember that I’m irrationally grumpy about this.
I lean against the door frame and pull her close for a lingering goodbye kiss. And then I push her again. “Let’s go out for dinner tomorrow night. Italian. I know this place in Arlington…”
She shifts uncomfortably. “We don’t need to go out for dinner.”
“But I want to. With you.”
“I’ve got a lot of studying to do.”
“After your exams, then. No rush.”
“I’ll be diving right into my senior project.”
“Alison.”
She rolls her eye and mimics my serious voice. “Scott.”
“Fine.” I stand up straighter and cross my arms.
She raises her eyebrows. When I don’t say anything else immediately, she sighs and takes off her shirt.
“You have gotten exceptionally comfortable with this sex thing,” I say. “Not complaining.”
She runs her fingers along the edge of her bra. This one is red with a few extra straps that make me think of tying her down. And I’m complaining about her being a dirty girl?
“It’s not a big deal,” she says, her chin jutting in a way that says, right?
“It was a big deal to me,” I admit.
“That's because you're a dirty old man. It's an artificial construct, really.”
“Maybe.” I lick my lips. I’m getting hard. “It gets you off, too.”
“Only because it was with you, and you are hot. It's the billionaire and the virgin role-play fun.” Direct hit, and she knows it. She drops her hands to her yoga pants and tucks her thumbs in, playing up the ingénue. I don’t need to hide that I’m turned on, so I lower my hand and squeeze my cock. She turns pink.
So much for me leaving in a huff. I roll my lower lip between my teeth and wait to see where she takes it.
“Are you still mad at me…sir?”
“No, I’m not not mad.”
“Have I done something wrong?”
I want to take her over my lap and spank her something fierce, but the only one who’s done something wrong tonight is me. “Come here, little one.” She comes closer and I take her hand and press it against my erection. “Does that feel like I’m mad?”
“No, sir.”
“Then drop to your knees and be thankful I’m so kind.”
Her eyes light up. Jesus.
In a flash, she’s got my cock out and her lips are wrapped around the head. “Like this?” she asks, pulling off with a pop.
I smirk. “You can take me deeper than that.”
“I’ll try,” she says, sliding a nervous tremble into her voice. My dick throbs in response and she stifles a grin.
“Brat. Suck me off, or I’ll come on your face.”
She scowls and licks me like a lollipop.
And so it goes. I might be annoyed, but I’m not so principled that I won’t take whatever she’s offering. Especially when what she’s offering is the best thing I’ve ever had.
—nineteen—
Alison
I know what I’m doing when I text Scott at four in the morning a few days later.
He knows what I’m doing, too.
That’s why he shows up twenty-three minutes later, freshly showered with a condom in his pocket and a barely dissolved breath mint on his tongue.
I smirk as he looms over me. “You are such a dirty old man.”
“We need to stop doing this.”
He doesn’t mean it, but I let him have this conversation. He’s slowly wearing me down. I cross my arms and smile at him. “Why?”
“Because you’re twenty and I’m not. Because I want to take you on a fucking date and you won’t. Because we wind up yelling at each other half the time.”
“But the rest of the time you’re inside me and it feels so good, right?”
His eyes darken and I don’t need to look down to know he’s hard for me.
I love that.
I’m taunting him, working him into a lather in the hopes that he’ll fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk straight tomorrow.
“Yeah it feels good, you crazy woman. Why can’t you sleep?”
“I just finished a practice exam—aced it—and was feeling restless, I guess. Full of ohmygodimaybeknowit energy.”
“Full of what?”
“Oh my God I maybe know it.”
He shakes his head and tugs me closer. “I’m sure you know it backwards and inside out. Come on, let’s get naked. A few orgasms are exactly the sleep prescription you need.”
“You were totally just thinking something about kids these days, weren’t you?”
“I’ll never tell.”
Instead of leading him into my room, I take off my clothes and go and start the shower.
He follows, watching me silently. We’ve done it on my couch and on a chair in my kitchen, but we haven’t had shower sex yet.
Since I owe him an apology, this feels like a good symbol. Washing away the bad juju or something. I start the shower and step into my small tub, holding the curtain out of the way. “Come here.”
He follows, naked now as well. An amused smile curls up his lips. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“And I’ve been sweating bullets over international law for like eighteen hours. I don’t smell good.”
“You always smell fantastic,” he mutters,
but he joins me, crowding me into the water. I love how big he is, and how he uses that size to make me feel dominated in all the right ways. I turn to offer him some body wash, but the bottle tumbles out of my hand as he lifts me up. From nowhere he makes a condom appear, and I rip it open.
“Put it on me.” The man thinks I’m way more gymnastic than I really am, but I reach between us and sheath him.
Then he’s inside me in one, breath-stealing surge.
“Don’t care if you’ve been working all day and night,” he mutters, grinding against my clit as I pulse around him, adjusting to his size. “Want you anyway. Always.”
I tighten my arms around his neck. So much for me making this about him. I close my eyes as he kisses my neck. Tighten my legs around his waist as he fucks up and into me. Basically hold on as he ravages me, because this is hard and fast and rough.
“You’ve got me. Always,” I promise. I’m a shitty girlfriend, because I’m focused on a dozen life goals that have nothing to do with a man, but Scott likes that about me. “I’m yours, you know that?”
“At four in the morning,” he growls.
“And when I’m buried in a pile of books, or taking an exam…”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Am I?”
I cry it out this time. “Yes!”
“Fuck.” He growls as he splits me in two, his hands tight on my thighs and his cock a piston between my legs. I don’t even need to touch myself, because he’s hitting all the right spots: his cock is stretching my cunt, bumping my cervix and a bunch of other good spots inside; the root of him rolls my clit with each buried thrust; but most effective of all are his words, squeezing my heart in my chest.
Hell, I didn’t even know that thing worked.
“Always yours,” I whisper, my voice having fled the building. My words crack a little as I try to ride him, desperate to come with him.
His hands slide, big and sure, to my ass, squeezing my cheeks and pulling them apart. Pulling me apart as he holds me steady and fills me, over and over again, until I’m sobbing his name and climbing the peak he always manages to get me up and over.
“Ali,” he growls. “My Ali. Mine. Fucking mine, always.”
“Yes,” I say, but it’s not really a word, it’s a cry, and it’s lost in the water as I tip my head back and explode for him. He buries himself in me, his cock twitching as it spills his seed inside that condom.
I wish he was bare inside me.
We should talk about that. I’m ready. I trust him.
But baby steps. I laugh shakily as he sets me down and gets rid of the condom.
“Is that a sleep deprivation laugh?” he asks roughly as he wraps his arms around me from behind.
I shake my head. I don’t need any secrets from him. “I was just thinking maybe we should talk about going without condoms.”
He doesn’t move, but his heart is pounding. I can hear it. “Yeah?”
“I’m…I get the shot. And if you…”
“I’ll get tested. It’s been a while, but another test is a good thing.”
I nod. “And I was laughing because I was thinking it’s a weird order.”
“What is?”
I turn in his arms. “That I don’t have any problem suggesting we go bare, but I’ve been struggling with agreeing to…”
He smirks at me. “To…?”
“Tomorrow night is my last exam.” I press up on my toes and kiss his jaw, then lick down his strong, corded neck. “If you want to go out and celebrate with me…”
His Adam’s apple jumps against my lips. “Yeah?”
I grin. That was worth it. “Yeah.”
“You don’t have friends you’d rather go out with?”
I laugh. “You scared off my only friend.”
“I didn’t scare him off, I just asserted my claim.”
“And yet I’m not going out for drinks with anyone.”
“So I’m the last option for filling your social calendar.” He groans, so I bite the tendon between his neck and his shoulder. “Hey! Brat!”
“No whining. You want the date or not?”
“If we’re calling it a date, abso-fucking-lutely.”
— —
He picks me up from my exam and we head back to his place. He asks me how it went, and I launch into a too-long explanation of why I didn’t like the exam questions, but I think I gave the answers the professor was looking for. My answer lasts all the way back to his place—which is nice, and I try to steer the conversation to that, but he just grins at me and asks another question about my exam.
He’s been slowly unwinding from buttoned-up Scott as we’ve been talking. His tie came off—hot—and he unbuttoned his jacket—even hotter. Now he flicks open the top button of his dress shirt and I swear my panties get wet from that one simple action. “We can go out for drinks as soon as I get changed.”
“You wanna go to the campus bar?” I ask, although really, I just want to help him get changed, and by that, I mean get naked. And then I want to ride him like a rodeo bronco. It is my celebration, after all.
He makes a face. “No.”
I laugh. “Do you have a neighborhood bar around here?”
“Yeah.” He watches me watching him slide off his dress shirt. “Or we could get a bottle of tequila and a lime from the store and come back to my place. Or your place. Hell, we can call up your friends and invite them along.”
“Seriously, I told you last night. Corey was my only friend. Being on an accelerated program made that kind of weird, because I stopped taking classes with the people I started with, and everyone else had already formed friendships. I mean, I’m friendly with people…” I’m babbling. I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it.”
Scott looks like he’s torn between glowering and being sympathetic. He fails at the latter. Glower is in full effect. “We won’t call Corey.”
“He’ll be so disappointed,” I say, laughing as he roughly grabs my hips and slides our bodies together.
“I never wanted to get between you and a friend.” He’s serious about that, and I appreciate it.
I kiss his jaw. “I know. But if being reminded that I’m not interested steers him away, then maybe he wasn’t that close of a friend to begin with.”
“How the hell are you this mature? I still don’t have that kind of objectivity.”
“Yeah? What friends hurt you?”
Something flickers in his eyes, but I’ve learned that while I can ask that kind of question, and he’ll never shut me down…he doesn’t answer, either.
But it’s my last day of school for a few weeks—until summer school begins, although I’ll have some prep for that to do, because I’m finishing my senior project for double credit—and I don’t want to go all emo about him not sharing when I’ve pushed for this to be light between us.
So I don’t need to mess with feelings and secrets and heaviness. I’ve got a hot friend who wants to do tequila shots with me to celebrate my last exam of the spring. “Never mind. Bring it on, old man. Let’s go get some tequila and see just how hard you can celebrate.”
He grins at me, his white teeth glinting in the street light. “Famous last words, sweetness. Famous last words.”
— —
An hour later, we’ve got tequila and limes and salt—fancy salt that the fancy corner store in his fancy neighborhood sells for just this purpose.
And I’m a little drunk, obviously, because I’m adding fancy to every other word. Fancy that.
We’re sharing life stories. His is considerably longer than mine.
I squint at him. “What happened?”
“I left the navy to join my father’s company.”
I frown, because that sounds…not fun. He gives me a bland look which just makes me wanna be sarcastic. Not my finest personality trait. I roll my eyes. “And now you’re a bodyguard. That’s a logical chain of events.”
“It didn’t work out. Although neither did be
ing a bodyguard, so the common denominator there is me.”
“But you liked the navy. And it sounds like the navy liked you.”
“Yeah.”
I don’t ask for more than that. It’s none of my business. But maybe we’re not so different, Scott and me. I decide to share a little secret with him. Tequila makes me brave. “I’ve got one more semester left. Then I’m running away. I know Cole could find me anywhere, so like, not literally running away, but I’m done with my family. I want to go live somewhere they don’t have a presence.”
He gives me a long, perusing look. Like he’s trying to figure out if I’m serious or if this is the fantasy of a college co-ed. “Where?”
I haven’t figured that part out yet. “I don’t know. Maybe London. Paris. Sydney, Australia sounds great.”
He laughs. “You know other countries have rules about who can just move there, right?”
“You don’t think the Queen of England wants me in her backyard? I’m not my sister. I’m not likely to blow a prince and leak the video.”
“You better not.” His jealousy is cute. Always nice to be wanted. But in this hypothetical-but-very-real fantasy of mine, I’m running away from Scott, too. I shift uncomfortably. “Ali,” he growls, and I wave him off.
“Let’s not talk about who I’m going to give future blow jobs to, okay?”
“Not okay.” He tips me onto my back and crawls over me, tangling his hands in my hair as he crushes his mouth to mine. We make out like kids on his very nice rug for a few minutes, then I push him off me.
“I want another shot.”
“Maybe we’ve had enough.”
I give him a look. “Really?”
He snorts and pours me another shot. “Your funeral.”
I’m warm and fuzzy, but I’m fine. I slam it back, then lick my lips and scoot back until I’m leaning against his couch. “Where would you go, if you could live anywhere in the world?”
“French Polynesia,” he says without hesitation. “Most beautiful place on earth.”
I nod. I’ve been to Tahiti once. “Nice.”
“You don’t agree.”
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