ME: Not sure.
NIK: U sure ur good?
Tanner rakes his teeth down my back and runs his hand up my legs, toying with the skin between the hem of my too-short skirt and thigh highs. While my fingers skim across the keyboard on the phone, he pulls back the garter belt straps and snaps them against my skin.
ME: Oh, I’m good. Reeeaaaallllll good.
“You’re gonna be,” Tanner says, obviously reading the texts over my shoulder.
“You’re very confident, Mr. Reynolds. Hopefully, you can deliver and you’re not wasting my time.” This is a new concept for the old Mrs. Hathaway … a woman who speaks her mind and flirts without abandon? I may have lost my husband, but I gained myself.
“How about you put that phone down and find out for yourself,” he teases.
My phone chimes and I answer … one last time.
NIK: U fuckin’ in the bathroom, Mi-Mi?
ME: Workin on it. Can you stop texting now? Killing the mood here …
NIK: HA! U get it, Mi-Mi … snap a pic of his cock for me. Wanna make sure ur getting the real deal and aren’t being undersold.
ME: Go away! I’ll come find you in a few minutes.
“Gonna need more than a few minutes, Mi-Mi,” he mocks.
“Well, I can’t exactly leave her out there alone for God-knows-how-long you need to get in, get off and get out.”
“Then let’s leave,” he says nonchalantly with a shrug. “Make sure Nik gets home safe and then I can really show you what having fun’s all about.”
“Deal,” I answer too quickly. “Let me go get her.”
I turn to leave, but he pins me in place with his muscular arms, caging me between his hard chest—among other things—and the sink. This rock and a hard place isn’t as bad as the cliché makes it seem.
“In a minute. Can’t let this moment pass us by. It’s not every day you find a sexy woman in a club wanting you as much as you want her.”
Tanner’s smooth, I’ll give him that. And I’m falling for it—hook, line and sinker.
I grab his face, pull it to mine and crush my lips to his, taking control of the situation. Luckily, the sink’s lower to the ground—low enough for me to rest my ass on the edge while spreading my legs, inviting him between them. I release his face, skim my palms down his chest—returning the favor—and pause at his belt buckle, where I fumble to get it open, already feeling the soft cotton of his boxers between the open teeth of his zipper.
“Need some help with that?” he chuckles between kisses. I take the break in contact to peer up at him, fully taking in his beauty. Dark, unruly hair, smoldering, green eyes hidden by hooded lids, full lips I’m sure could swallow me whole, as well as a jawline to rival any Calvin Klein model. He can’t be more than twenty-three, and I couldn’t give any less of a fuck.
“Actually, I probably shouldn’t start something here I can’t finish. We’ll revisit this topic back at my place.”
“Lead the way, Mi-Mi.” I’m never going to get enough of that deep, husky, sexy voice. I could probably listen to him long enough and come from that alone.
“Let’s go.” I smooth my hair into place, and he adjusts himself in his pants before we exit the bathroom together, only to find a few giggling, drunk college girls waiting outside. He nods at them politely, and I’m sure one of them physically swooned at his dimpled cheek when he smiled.
There’s a small part of me that wants to snap a picture of us together to post online. Yes, my homeland is PettyVille and I’m not even ashamed to admit it. Whatever little slut Ben is cuddled up with tonight isn’t anywhere as attractive as my bed warmer for this evening. I’d be willing to bet my next few alimony payments on it.
Together, hand in hand, fingers linked, Tanner and I find Nik still with the group of girls. When I ask her if she’s ready to leave, she gives me a knowing look. “Ya know what, I’m gonna stay and hang out with my new friends. How about you take the car and I’ll have one of the bartenders drive me home. I’m gonna take full advantage of partying while John’s out of town.”
“You sure? I feel bad bailing on you on our night out.”
“No, angel face, this was your night out. Remember toast number three. You’ve done the first two, now it’s time to seal the deal. It’s good luck. Details in the morning.”
I reluctantly agree because there’s no arguing with Nikki. Tanner and I exit the building, and Nik’s car is waiting for us at the curb as promised. We could have probably taken a cab, but for whatever reason, when Nikki suggested taking the car with the driver I’ve known all my adult life, I felt a sense of ease knowing Ray wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. Bringing a stranger home from a bar isn’t the safest bet—no matter how unbelievably sexy that stranger is—but there’s a level of comfort with Tanner I can’t quite explain just yet.
Shoving aside any other thoughts, I climb inside first—more of a crawl—giving Tanner a peek underneath my skirt, leaving nothing to his imagination. His hiss behind me spurs me on, so much so, when I find my seat on the opposite side, I don’t bother pulling down the skirt, the leather cool against the exposed cheeks of my ass.
“You’re gonna get me in a lot of trouble, Miranda. A welcomed trouble.”
I smile and let Ray know we’re not going back to Nikki’s but rather my place.
My first one-night stand ever … here we go!
Chapter 4
Miranda
“You live far?” Tanner whispers, his mouth already on my neck.
“Not too far,” I respond, trying not to jump him right here where Raymond can see. “Ray, you did hear me say we’re going to my place, not Nik’s, right?” I know he did, but I need his attention. I need his discretion.
“Yes, ma’am, Ms. Hathaway. Shall I put up the privacy screen?” he asks, just as I knew he would. Excellent mind reading, Raymond. Before I can respond, the glass is rising, blocking us from his vision and vice versa.
“Thanks, Ray,” I giggle before the partition is fully in place.
“It’s like he knows the protocol. Ya got him trained well, Mi-Mi,” Tanner chuckles, not realizing I’ve stopped responding to his touch.
He continues nipping at my neck and urging me closer to him. I finally put a stop to his advances and push him backward, putting some distance between us so he can fully understand what I’m about to say. I will not let this night continue with him believing this is a common occurrence for me. Especially when I thought it was so special because of how comfortable I felt with him. Not today, sir. Never again will I be someone’s fool.
“Listen, I’m sure you have girls throwing themselves at you on the regular, their ovaries bursting the moment you walk into a room. But this is not my norm. Not even close.”
“Bursting ovaries, huh? How do yours feel right now? On the edge of combustion?” He laughs and places a hand on the inside of my thigh, staring me in the eyes as he inches his palm higher, daring me to stop him.
Unbeknownst to him, I’m completely fine without an orgasm. Wouldn’t be the first time and most likely not the last. Done it for years. His face falls when I stop him once again and use a firmer tone.
“Tanner, seriously. I’m not typically this kind of girl, as cliché as that sounds. Today’s just a special occasion.”
“Birthday? Yours or your friend’s?” he asks, seeming genuine as he retracts his hand.
“Freedom,” I say flatly.
“Just out of jail?” The boy’s gorgeous from head to toe, a perfect specimen of sexy collegiate co-ed, and the erection trying to fight its way out of his pants gives me a clue he’s also well endowed. However, his smarts … are a bit lacking, to put it politely. Big dick, no brains—fine by me. I’m not in this for the intelligent conversation on current world trade policies, but he’s forcing me to go into details I didn’t want to talk about. I need him to understand why this is different for me than him, and the story comes flying out of my mouth before I can stop it.
“At 8:30
this morning I was Mrs. Benjamin Hathaway. By 9:00 A.M. I was just Miranda Hathaway. This is my divorce party, I guess you could say. My freedom celebration.”
“Am I the present?”
“I’m sure that can be arranged if you choose to stop thinking I’m like this all the time. I don’t know why I give a shit what you think of me, but I do. I spent too much time letting my feelings get brushed under the rug, and if my divorce has taught me anything, it’s to not hide from myself, or anyone else. This isn’t my typical attire,” I say, waving at my clothing … or lack thereof, “and I’m way out of my comfort zone, too. I’m a woman who has respect for herself but forgot I should demand to be treated as such.”
He nods, hopefully following along, so I continue.
“You seem like a nice guy, Tanner. And a lot of fun. There’s nothing wrong with a girl who enjoys sex and owns her sexuality. I’ve just not been that girl in a while. So, on that note, you think you can help remind me?”
“When’s the last time you came?”
“We don’t answer questions with more questions, but since you’ve asked and I’m enjoying this no filter thing, I’ll tell ya. Six months. And that was self-inflicted.” I wiggle my fingers in front of his face and shrug my shoulders. “Gotta do what ya gotta do.”
I move to put my hand back in my lap, but before I can, Tanner takes it in his and brings my fingers to his mouth and sucks on the tips, flicking my nails with his tongue. “Show me.”
“I’m sorry, what? Did you miss the part about my last orgasm happening because I made it happen? Do you realize why you’re here?”
“Miranda,” he says slowly, almost exasperated. “Spread your legs apart, slide those tiny panties out of the way, stick your slick fingers between your lips and show me what you like.”
“But why? You’re right here. Again, do you not realize what you’re doing here?”
“If you’re not down for some fun—getting out of your comfort zone—I can get out and walk away. No harm, no foul. I will not pressure you into doing something you don’t want to try. I’m not that guy. Never have been, never will be. But if this is what you want,” he grabs his dick firmly in one hand, “we play by my rules. Tell me what you want, Miranda. Ball’s in your court.”
For a few seconds, I ponder his proposal. Fingering myself always seemed so personal. Like something you do in secret when you’re not satisfied but don’t want to tell your partner to protect his ego. It’s taboo. Now, here’s this man, watching me with lust-filled eyes, his voice strained, all but begging for me to play his game and make myself come.
So strange—foreign—and amazingly erotic is the conclusion I come to before I slowly prop my feet up on the wall separating us and Ray, opening my thighs as much as I can in the confined space, and pull my panties aside.
“You’re serious? This isn’t just some game of let’s see what we can get the cougar to do and you’ll laugh with all your buddies later?” My insecurities creep back from where they’ve lived for years regardless of how hard I try to keep them tucked away.
“Not even in the slightest. Put your fingers in your cunt. Pretend it’s my dick sliding in and out of you.”
Still unsure, but very aware of everything around me—the sensual touches as he barely grazes his fingers along my body, the palpable electricity between us and his dirty, forbidden words urging me to escape my comfort zone—I do as he says. When my fingers slip through my lips, a soft moan escapes my mouth, and Tanner groans in response.
“Just like that. Keep going,” he encourages. “Is your pussy wet for me, Miranda?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “So wet.”
“Good girl. Fuck yourself for me. Show me how you like it.”
One finger, then another, I enter my core, slowly stretching myself open. I can say I’ve never done this before. I’m more of a play-with-my-clit-until-I-orgasm-then-wash-my-hands-to-hide-the-evidence kinda gal. Pretty sure he’s ruining that for me.
I already know I’m not going to come like this, but I can’t deny how sexy I feel, which spurs me on. Bucking my hips, swirling around on my own finger, I wait for further direction.
“Now what?” I finally ask on a moan, loving every second of me not having to control the situation.
“You’re doing so good showing me, baby, now tell me. You said not far, so we’ve gotta be close to your house, and you’re not getting out of this car until you come.”
Fuck, I could almost come from the gravelly timbre of his voice.
“My clit. I need more, but this feels so fucking amazing I don’t want to stop.”
My fingers move faster and the orgasm builds, but there won’t be any cresting if that tiny bundle of nerves receives no attention. He needs to jump in here and give me an assist; I want to use my other hand, or an extra finger. I’m good with one or all three.
“Want my help with that?”
“Yes,” I groan, grinding my hips in circular motions, harder than before, desperately searching for the more I know I need. I pretend, as Tanner said, it’s his cock inside of me, and God it feels amazing … just not enough.
“Ask me, Miranda. Never without your permission. Ask me to make you come.”
I can feel his smoldering stare; I don’t need to turn my head to see it. Even his words—the way he speaks with desire and longing—assure me his temptation to touch me almost outweighs mine … almost. I never thought I’d be this forward, especially with someone I hardly know, and I can’t help but vocalize what I want from Tanner.
“Tanner. Please. Help. Me. I want to come so badly, and without you, I can’t.” I’m really going to need to remember this girl when all of this is said and done. I like her. She’s my favorite version of myself.
“Come here,” he growls. Before I can comply, he has me flat on my back, legs draped over his shoulders and his mouth replacing my fingers.
His tongue quickly swipes once and another low, erotic growl deep in his throat elicits a moan of my own. “So fucking sweet,” he compliments. With his hands, almost painfully, he spreads my thighs further.
“Fuck,” I cry as he places his digits where mine used to be and flexes them—in and out, around. Everywhere.
“Tell me, Miranda. What do you want now?”
“To come on your tongue. Please, Tanner, mouth back on me. Do not stop until I come so hard I forget my own name.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles.
And like a man starved, Tanner dives in, face first, lapping and sucking at my core and clit, using every delicious, thick finger he can fit inside me. The scruff on his chin is what does it for me, though. I’ve never been a fan of men having facial hair, but the second that rough patch of hair grazes against my most sensitive flesh, I’m done.
“Holy fuck!” I scream, pushing my hand into his unruly hair, ensuring he stays put until I ride out the last of the most powerful, earth-shattering orgasm I’ve ever had—probably anyone’s ever had.
The car comes to a stop when the final wave crests, and I unlatch from Tanner’s scalp, surely having caused some type of damage judging by how badly my fingernails hurt.
“How am I getting inside?” I question, my eyes already heavy and my legs feeling like goo.
“I got you. Keys?”
“Front seat. My purse. Ray has them.” At the last second, before leaving Nikki’s house, I grabbed my bag with my car and house keys inside. I typically wouldn’t have, but something told me I needed them, and that little voice was right.
Tanner exits the car first and grabs my belongings. Before I can even try to open my side and stumble my way up the steps to my townhouse, Tanner’s there, helping me to my feet and allowing me to use him as my crutch to keep from falling over. Even while he smirks, knowing my state is because of his magical mouth, he opens my bag for me to fish out my keys. I don’t even have to fumble with the locks because he’s taken them straight out of my hand and pushed open the door for us to enter.
“You’re really good at
this knight-in-shining-armor thing,” I say as I kick off the boots Tanner’s already unzipped. On top of his game, this one.
“You and your compliments.”
“If you wanna make a real impression … there’s a bottle of water in the fridge with my name on it. You can grab that and meet me in the bedroom. I also wouldn’t hate a banana or something.” With my bare feet on the hardwood floors, I use the wall to hold me up as I make my way to the master bedroom, which lucky for me in my current state, happens to be on the first floor.
I flick on the light and a wave of nausea washes over me. Ben and I closed on this townhouse the week after we returned from our honeymoon. Other than us—at least to my knowledge—nobody else has ever been in this bed, and I’m about to invite a stranger there.
Falling to the floor, sucking air into my lungs that doesn’t seem to be reaching its desired location, Tanner swoops in behind me, pulling me into his arms.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks softly.
“Not too sure. Really weird,” I gasp, the oxygen finally getting into my system, keeping me from passing out.
“We don’t have to, Miranda. Honestly, I can leave just as fast as I got here. You say the words and I’m gone.”
“Kelly Kosgrove.” Her name tastes bitter in my mouth.
“Excuse me?” he asks, confusion evident in his voice.
“Kelly Kosgrove. The girl who ended it all. Nothing but a twenty-year-old college kid. He wanted her instead of our life. She was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
“You know he’s an idiot, right? Have you looked at yourself lately? I’m positive you’re sexier than any Kelly Kosgrove, and it’s about time you see that.”
“You’re real sweet, Tanner.” I run my hand gently across his face. “But there’s really no need for that. Yes, I’m an attractive woman, but I can’t compete with someone a decade younger than me. It’s not how the world works.”
“Who said you had to compete? You tryin’ to win something?”
“Self-respect? Dignity? Pride? Your pick.”
“Sounds like you’re making a lot of excuses for a man who didn’t realize what he had, and he probably won’t until some Kelly, or whoever his next victim is, walks out on his ass.”
Quick Fix: Book 1 (Suddenly Satisfied) Page 3