by Gina Kincade
“Mmm.”
“Are you close?”
“Yes. Oh god, yes.” She pushes her finger a little more inside, circling her clit and making my cock throb every time she rocks her hips.
My hips want to mimic hers, meeting her, thrust for thrust, imagining myself inside her as I watch her finger dip a little more, a little more.
“Oh, Ryder.”
“Baby. I want you to come. I want you to come so fucking bad.”
“Ryder.”
“Say my name, baby. Say my first name.”
Her hips jerk up. “Ian,” she says on a long breath.
She’s coming. I’m watching her. Her sex is pulsing, her hips are moving, there’s a beautiful blush covering her chest and cheeks.
“Oh, Ian.”
“Yeah, baby. That was good.”
“It was so good.” She slowly extracts her finger from her pussy. It’s glistening and I have to have it.
“Asha.” I step a little closer. “Can I taste you?”
Her eyes spring open. They’re so wide, and I see something that breaks me. There’s fear. A lot of it too.
“I mean, taste your finger, baby.” I try to soften my voice, hoping to erase the panic I see flash through her dark gaze.
Granted, Asha’s a virgin and she could be fearful of intimacy. But more than likely, and this kills me, someone made her fearful of being physical. If I ever find out for certain if it was someone, I’ll fucking gut him. Skin him alive. Then cut off his dick.
Or at least imagine I’d do that.
Fuck, I hate hearing about violence against women. I hate seeing it. My heart bleeds for the women who come in and need rape kits. I think about posses and vigilante law, because our own judicial system is disgracefully not enough. Three months of jail time for a convicted rapist? A year for a child molester? That should make everyone ashamed.
I can’t let Asha know about my suspicions. She’s a proud woman. Getting her to tell me she’s a virgin—it might have been easier extracting her teeth than that admission.
I smooth a smile on my face, hoping I still look like I’m turned on, still with her.
She smiles at me. It’s slow and languid and so fucking sexy. Her orgasm grin really does turn me on.
Right now, I know she needs me not to react to my hunch. I don’t know how I know this. I guess, it’s just human decency, but, yeah, I’m going to pretend. And it’s not that hard to pretend because I’m charged with lust from the way she’s smiling at me, her orgasm making her relaxed and even more gorgeous.
Slowly, she lifts her hand. After stepping closer, I take it, making sure she’s looking at me. Separating her middle finger from the rest, I suck it in. My cock twitches the instant I smell her, taste her. She’s sweet. So fucking sweet.
I moan. “Like honey.”
She slowly bites her lip. “Really?”
“You taste so fucking good, baby.”
“I love it when you call me baby.”
“I love calling you baby.” I take her finger in my mouth again, because I was about to tell her that she’s the only one I’ve ever called baby. No other woman was ever called anything by me, other than her name. I never liked endearments, not for what I was doing, which was fucking.
She takes her hand back, propping herself on another pillow, laying on her side, her perfect silhouette outlined by the late-morning sun.
“It’s my turn now. I get to watch.”
I chuckle. “I’m sorry to say it might not be much of a show. I’m so fucking turned on, Asha.”
“You are?”
She keeps asking me these kinds of questions—if she really tastes good, if I’m really turned on. For the next few days, I’m going to prove to her she never has to ask those kinds of questions again, because this woman—this woman makes me feel more than I ever have before, makes me so turned on I think I might come, and I haven’t even touched my dick. In general, she drives me crazy just because she’s her and she’s here.
Fuck, I’m going to win her over if it’s the last thing I do.
“Let me see how turned on you are.”
I grin and whip off my towel, letting her take me in.
Now that I know—rather, think I know—that Asha might be a sexual assault victim, I want to make everything just right. For this reason, I’m cringing that I tore off my towel so fast. Luckily, she’s eating me up, licking her lips, her eyes as dazzling as the stars in a velvet-black sky.
“You are…you are…” She shakes her head. “Can I call you beautiful? I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I never thought I’d like it being called something like that. But from her, the fact that she’s seen all my scars, she’s seen my tats—the ones I’m proud of and the corny ones too, and she thinks of me like that, yeah, I like being called beautiful. But I can only nod at her.
She adjusts a little and sits on her shins, her naked body amazing me. “Show me how you touch yourself.”
My hands are at my sides, and I realize I’m shaking a little. I’m going to jerk off in front of her. And maybe I should feel dirty about it, but I don’t. This is what she wants. She likes looking at me. She likes it when I call her baby. All of these things make it so I’m way more turned on than I’d like to be. And happier too.
I slide a hand along my thigh and go right for my cock. It’s me touching myself. So I don’t dick around, pun intended. Wrapping my hand around my base, I watch her watching me. She looks amazed. Her mouth is parted and, fuck, if that doesn’t ratchet up this already intense feeling.
I stroke myself a few times, testing the waters for how sensitive I am. With my other hand I cup my balls, pulling the sack, groaning.
“Does that feel good?”
“So good,” I grunt.
“Ryder?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Will you imagine me doing what you are, like you did for me? Only, will you keep telling me what I would do to you?”
I suck in a breath. “Yeah, baby.” I groan again as she’s pushing her hands down her slender thighs. “God, you’re so sexy.”
She smiles. “What am I doing to you?”
“You’re taking my cock, stroking me just the way I like it.”
“How do you like it?”
“At first, a little rough, but I’m too worked up to do that. I’d come and embarrass myself by orgasming less than fifteen seconds after you touched me, and I’m going to prove to you that my stamina is at least thirty seconds.”
She giggles. It’s a sexy giggle that bounces through my body, landing in my heart, making me feel good everywhere. “I love this, Ryder…Ian.”
I throw my head back as I keep slowly stroking myself. “I love it when you say my name. All of my name. What’s your full name, baby?”
“Asha—by the way Asha means hope—”
I smile, glancing back at her again. “That’s so pretty.”
“Thank you. Asha Isabell Whitetail. What’s your middle name, Ian?”
“Ian Charles Ryder.”
“Charles, wow.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not so turned on now.”
She laughs.
“I like Charlie better.”
After she tilts her head, I’m guessing to think about Charlie, she watches me stroking myself. Contrary to what I just said, lust is coursing through me like a juggernaut. There’s no stopping it. My testicles are tightening.
“I like Charlie too.” She licks her lips. “What am I going to do to make you come, Ryder?”
I grunt. “You—you’ll take your hand and wrap it around my head, like this.” I show her. “Then you’ll move your hand this way.” I circle around my hot swollen flesh, which makes the sensations in my body heighten all the more. I moan. My hips thrust of their own volition.
“You—you have—” she points at my cock with her chin. “Pre-ejaculate from your penile meatus.”
I glance down. A drop of precum glistens on my slit.
God, I love that she says anatomical terms in bed. Somehow, she makes even that such a fucking turn on.
“Can I—” She seriously bites her lip as she looks up at me, a pink glow spreading across her cheeks. “Can I taste that?”
I shudder. “Jesus, you’re going to make me come.”
“Can I taste that too?”
Before I can say yes, she scoots forward, leaning closer.
“You really want to?” I’m grunting with every word because her curiosity, the fact that she said penile meatus, is making it so I’ll come at any second.
She nods.
So I do too. I’m about to take the drop from my dick onto my hand when she reaches out and gingerly skims her finger up my slit. I groan and shake even more.
When she slides her finger in her mouth, I can’t stand it anymore.
“Asha.” My voice is hoarse and cracks. I place both of my hands on my shaft, thrusting my hips to find my orgasm.
She smiles at me. “It tastes…good.”
And I come. My balls squeeze, my lungs are almost too hot with air that seems to sweep down into my testicles. I explode, trying to aim at my chest and stomach, twitching and jerking from my orgasm. When I close my eyes, I see her putting her finger inside her pussy, later putting her finger, coated with my precum, in her mouth. I imagine being inside her and her coming with me.
“Oh my god,” she whispers.
I’m really shaking and can barely open my eyes, but I do to see her.
She’s smiling and scooting even closer, to the very edge of the bed. “That was so sexy, Ian. I could watch that again and again. That was so…wow.”
I reach out and hang onto my bedpost, since my legs are now boneless. “I aim to please.”
“Can I taste that too?” She points to the mess on my chest.
I nod, only able to use jerky movements.
She smears her finger through and pops it right into her little mouth, closing her eyes. “Mmm…” When she opens her lids, her gaze is full of desire. “That tastes good too.”
Before I can think of something clever to say she adds, “Ian, in this bargain of ours…”
“Yeah?”
“What will I have to do to give you oral sex?”
At that moment, I’m pretty sure I had an accident and am dead. I’m in heaven. Somehow, I was good enough to get in, because this angel in front of me wants to give me a blow job. She will do something for me in order to give me said job.
Yeah, I have to be dead.
Asha
Ryder and I take another shower, cleaning up our sexy messes, while we negotiate another deal. We have to hurry to meet my sister, but after lunch, we’re going to spend all afternoon doing touristy things, getting to know the town more, and getting to know each other even better. Then tonight, after all of that, he reluctantly agrees, I can give him a blow job. The man’s a saint.
Yeah, I realized after we made the deal that he’s getting a lot out of the bargain. But, I doubt he’ll ever know how much I’m getting out of it. I’m not sure if I’m ready for him to touch me. When he asked if he could taste me, I imagined his head between my legs, and I freaked. I don’t know why. I think Ian’s sexy. I like him. I think he’s sexy. Did I mention how he’s so sexy?
So why I had that reaction baffles me. Discourages me.
Then again, now that we’re dressed and running out of my apartment, which we raced to so I could wear something different, and he said it would be a good idea to bring a few extra clothes for staying over—yay!, I’m thinking about his head between my legs. And I like thinking about it. Maybe I just needed to acclimate to the idea. As I’m clutching onto him on the back of his motorcycle and we’re roaring toward the restaurant, the apex of my legs aches anew. I’m suddenly so turned on. His rumbling bike isn’t helping with the perfect amount of vibration to my sensitive clit.
The spring sun is shining down as I lean with him when he cuts around corners. I think of him lying beside me, his hands doing what mine had done earlier. He’s circling the hard little pink nub, turning me on, making me want to open my legs more and more.
And we’re at the restaurant, where I’m nearly panting, sweating, and wishing I could push Ryder against a nearby wall and jump him. What would his penis feel like inside me?
“You okay?” he asks, locking my backpack, stuffed tightly with a lot of clothes and makeup and hair stuff, onto his motorcycle.
I nod.
He tilts his head down, looking at me. “You sure? You look…feverish.”
I shake my head and glance at the small space between us that’s closing. It’s like we have a gravity that’s all our own. We can’t seem to stand without getting nearer and nearer to each other.
“What’s wrong, Asha? We can call your sister and cancel.”
I sigh. “Nothing’s wrong. I—” I smile shyly when I look back up into his warm brown eyes. “I thought about you…touching me. If you had done what I did this morning.”
His honey brown orbs change to night black in an instant. “I want to do that.” Wow, his voice deepens and my nipples contract.
I lick my lips. “What will I have to do for you to do that to me?”
He blinks. “Tell me a secret.”
I swallow and think of my biggest and ugliest. Not exactly something I’m ready to talk about.
His gaze narrows. “Not a big secret, but something not a lot of people know.”
God, I like him. He always makes things so easy. So easy to like him too.
“Right now?”
“Asha?” My sister’s voice calls out.
Ian grins. “Maybe later.” He turns and there’s my sister.
She’s as gorgeous as ever, if not even more so. Her hair is a perfect jet-black, and glossy, as well as straight. As a kid, I kind of hated mine for not being as dark as hers, having a lot more rebellious waves that I still haven’t figured out what to do with, and mine is nowhere near as glossy. But Ryder likes it. And that makes me feel a tad gorgeous like my sister.
She’s a little taller than me, still thin, and wearing a navy blue pantsuit that’s somehow both intimidating yet elegant—so like my sister. And right behind her, biting one of her pierced lips, is a girl about my age with dyed black hair that’s in a severe bob, pale, pale skin with a lot of black makeup around her blue, blue eyes. She looks nervous, even though I would guess she’s usually not. I’d bet she’s usually a bad ass. Like my bad ass, Ryder, beside me.
I hug my sister, even though Lona is weird about physical affection, and while still holding her, I grab the girl behind my sister.
“You must be Bit,” I say while trying to embrace both of them as tight as I can.
Instantly, the Goth girl comes alive with a wide smile and she’s hugging me back. “Yes.”
“God, I would have been so embarrassed if you weren’t.”
She laughs. It’s loud and carefree, and I like Bit. I can tell we’re going to be good friends.
Then surprising me, my sister has somehow lassoed Ryder into the group hug.
“And you must be Ian,” she says as she squeezes me harder and right into Ryder. “My sister hasn’t told me much about you, so I ran a background check.”
I cough and sputter, looking at my sister. “You did not.”
Ryder’s laughing, though, making me like him all the more. “Whew, I was wondering if I had to explain why my credit score wasn’t as high as I want it to be.”
Lona chuckles. “He gets me. I like him.”
Me too, I want to say, but I don’t.
At lunch my sister announces her engagement to Bit, and I squeal and cry, hugging them until they can’t breathe. They’re thinking of a December wedding.
They talk very little of wedding plans before moving on to places to see in Laramie, since they found out that Ian’s lived here for only a couple of months.
“Do you want to be my maid of honor?” Lona whispers as Bit and Ian are talking about museums.
I almost squeal again, but my sister places her hand over my mouth, laughing. “Thank you for your enthusiasm, Asha, but I’m going to go deaf soon.”
When she removes her hand, I nod, tears forming in my eyes. “Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.”
She smiles even wider, her own eyes filling with moisture. “I didn’t think you’d react like this.”
“Why not? You know I’m a silly romantic. And I love you and am so happy for you.”
She blinks and looks across the table at her fiancé and Ian, who are talking about a haunted mansion we could walk through. He wags his dark brows at me but resumes talking about ghosts.
“He’s falling in love with you.”
I turn and glance at my obviously insane sister. “He so isn’t.”
My sister snorts and shakes her head. “Is so.”
“You’re crazy, lady.”
She smiles and leans closer, whispering, “You just called yourself a silly romantic but you can’t see what I do.”
I shake my head at her. “He’s not that kind of guy. Look at him. He’s all hard edges and tattoos.”
“Tattoos? I like tattoos.”
Glancing at my sister sideways, I’m not sure who it is I’m talking to. I always thought of her as one of the most clean-cut people I know. But Bit is…dark, pierced, and has a tattoo behind one of her ears that reads, “Made You Look.” She swears and my sister swears too. Further making me wonder who Lona is, she’s talking about leaving her job—a job she loves. But she’s being vague when I asked what else she wanted to do.
Lona smiles, but the grin has turned a little sad. “I, um, I want Hon to be my other maid of honor, bride’s maid, or whatever he’d be called. If you don’t mind, that is.”
I blink, feeling like she took a hatchet and whacked me down the center. I’m bleeding everywhere. God, I didn’t want to hurt during this lunch.
I nod. “That’d be great.” My voice cracks and Ian glances at me, something protective and menacing flashing through his brown gaze.
“Would it?” Lona asks, quietly. “I don’t want to ask him if you’re uncomfortable seeing him.”
“Why would I be uncomfortable seeing my own brother?”
She glances at Ian who’s still talking to Bit. They’re talking about Medicine Bow National Forest that’s close by.