Playboy

by Logan Chance

  I keep licking.

  Keep sucking.

  My whole body comes alive. Every joint and muscle aches with the need to touch her.

  She’s so wet for me. Soaked.

  I can definitely make her come a few times tonight. And I can’t wait.

  She bucks her hips, arching her back. “Jonah.”

  My name on her lips is music I want to play on repeat all night. Her pussy rubs against my face, her clit running along the bridge of my nose. She’s close, and her moans and whimpers increase.

  She comes all over me, and it’s fucking great.

  I can’t get enough. This girl. Ahh.

  I gaze at her after her body has calmed. “That was amazing.”

  “It was more amazing for me,” she says with a soft glow in her cheeks.

  I crawl up her body, kissing her lush lips. “Chelsea, I don’t think what happens in Vegas should stay there. I want to be with you.”

  She smiles wide. “I want that too.”

  My cock grows larger than it already is, and I grab a condom from my drawer.

  20

  Chelsea

  Jonah wants to be with me. That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time. It’s the only news that matters.

  He kisses me as if he’s never kissed me before. More passion. More lust. It’s the kiss that changes everything. No longer are we two souls searching, we’re two souls joining.

  He rolls a condom down his thick length, and my insides tingle. Feeling him inside me again is what I’ve been thinking about since we left Vegas.

  He moans my name. I love hearing him say my name. Actually, the man could say anything and I would probably love it.

  We kiss, touch, feel.

  Our legs tangle into each other, and he pulls away. “Be right back,” he says, jumping off the bed.

  Seems like an eternity passes before he steps back in the room, wearing a wicked grin on his face.

  “What are you up to?” I ask.

  And then I see it… his camera.

  “Is this ok?” He holds it up.

  “You want to take pictures of me?”

  “Yes. If you don’t want to…” his voice trails off.

  “Have you ever done this before?”

  “No, I swear. Chelsea, no one will ever see these but us. Ok?”

  I believe him. “Ok,” I agree.

  He sets the camera up on a tripod, positioning it for the bed, and smiles. “Ready?”

  “Lights, camera, action and all that jazz,” I say as he flicks the camera on and grabs the remote.

  “Get ready for your close up.”

  He climbs onto the bed, his rough palms running over my skin, and crashes his lips to mine.

  Hands roam everywhere, unable to get close enough. His touch is filled with a raw passion I’ve never experienced before. A passion I want over and over for the rest of my life.

  “Smile for the camera, baby,” he whispers in my ear.

  I try to forget the camera’s even there, but now I want to look good for it. Slowing my movements, I try to be as sexy as I can.

  Desire pours through me as a hazy fog settles over my brain.

  Jonah stills, watching me as I play with my breasts for the camera.

  “God damn, your tits are tailor-made just for me.”

  I savor his words as he licks his full, hungry lips.

  “I know you like this,” I say, pinching my nipples between my fingers.

  He groans. “I can’t take it anymore. I need to fuck you,” he husks out, grabbing his dick with one hand. The tip glides through my wetness, teasing me, before he pulls back and strokes his cock a little faster.

  “On your hands and knees,” he instructs me.

  When I get in position he slaps my ass, and then again a little harder. The sensation sends a jolt of electricity dashing through me. A tantrum of lust and energy entwine, raging through me.

  I want to feel every inch of him. And it’s a lot of inches I’m begging for.

  He grabs a handful of my ass with both hands, and strings together some unintelligible words.

  I can’t take much more. He teases my opening for a few seconds, running his length along my heated, wet skin, then slams into me in one fervent motion. His thundering pace has me moaning into the pillow as he continues working my body.

  The sensation of him deep inside me, stretching me, is indescribable. He fucks me with abandon.

  He doesn’t slow, even for a second.

  “I can’t wait to watch this. Watch me fucking you.”

  I moan yes, or at least I try to.

  “I’ll jerk off everyday to these photos and then come back and fuck you harder.”

  As if he could do it any harder. His words egg me on to push my ass against him.

  “That’s right, baby, fuck me,” he urges.

  His big hands continue with my ass, slapping, rubbing, tugging on each cheek. My orgasm builds low in my belly. My peak nears at a galloping speed.

  My control dissolves as his fingers sweep along my curves, making me ache with desire.

  I match his movements, biting along the pillow as my body quickly climbs. “Oh God,” I moan.

  “You make me so hard all the time. Do you like knowing that I want to fuck you all the time?”

  “Yes.” My heart beats so fast, I fear it may rip out of my chest.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you. I jerk off thinking about being inside you.”

  He reaches his hand around to toy with my clit. My orgasm plows through me like a barrage of bullets. Each shake and pulse sends another sensation kicking my body into overdrive.

  I can’t stop the cries that fly from my mouth. I can’t stop the tremors coursing through my body. It’s an outpouring of every emotion I have for him.

  Lust, desire, friendship, want, need…maybe even love?

  I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, honestly. But, it’s ferocious, clawing its way right smack into the center of my heart and clinging on for dear life.

  He thrusts into me a few more times, seizing every part of my body.

  It turns me on more knowing he’s so into it. That he wants nothing more than to feel me around him when he reaches his climax. When he comes, it’s the sexiest thing ever. His body shaking, his grunts and moans, him calling out my name.

  He runs his hand up my back, after his movements have stilled, and whispers, “I love being inside you.”

  Tiny bursts of happiness ignite along my skin. He pulls out, and flips me over, cupping my face in his palms. “I really do love everything about being here with you.”

  I reach up, running my fingers through his beard. “We click.”

  A smile pulls at his lips. “Yeah, I get it.”

  See? He’s perfect. I didn’t even have to say it this time.

  After the camera is put away, and we’re ready for bed, he snuggles behind me.

  “Sweet dreams, Chelsea,” he whispers by the light of the moon.

  “You too.” And I drift off to sleep.

  The next morning, I’m out of the house before Jonah even wakes. I shoot him a text, letting him know about my audition. About twenty minutes later, he sends one back telling me I got this.

  I’m a nervous wreck. Everyone in this room appears to have more experience than me. But, I can’t let that deter me.

  I can do this.

  While I run the lines over and over in my head, my confidence wanes a bit listening to my competition’s conversation.

  “I did a small part in Oliver Stone’s newest movie,” a blonde, sitting across from me, says.

  “Oh really? I think I auditioned for that one. I did a commercial a while back, and I have been swamped with work from it,” the brunette next to her counters, glancing at her phone. She looks up and studies me. “Aren’t you that model from Bunny Hunnies?”

  “Uh, yes.” I smile as everyone in the room stares.

  “From that Viking spread. Yeah, my boyfriend bought me some
maiden outfit after seeing that,” she says, leaning forward a bit to whisper, “Problem is, he went to the costume shop and not the lingerie department.”

  “Idiot,” the blonde next to her says, laughing.

  “I didn’t know if people were really into that sort of thing,” I say.

  “Well, I’m not. It’s why we broke up,” the tall brunette says.

  The blonde receptionist narrows her eyes at me when my phone dings with a message. It’s my dad wishing me luck. I send back a thanks, and cross my legs as I wait for my name to be called.

  Deep breath. I can do this.

  My name’s called after a few more minutes, and I enter the room and stand by the door.

  Two smiling men sit in gray chairs behind a small table. One bald. The other with so much hair, Donald Trump would be jealous.

  “Come in,” the bald man eyes the clipboard in his hand, “Chelsea Sincock? You don’t have an agency listed here.”

  I smile and shake his hand. “I’m currently without representation.”

  The two men pass a look. “Very well. This is Frances, he’ll be reading with you.”

  They already don’t look very impressed, but I let that feeling roll off my shoulders as I try to get into character. Think deranged. I look over at the lanky blond who will be the object of my affections and smile. And then I lose myself in Gretchen.

  We read the lines, and I picture Jonah with me instead of Frances. Jonah is definitely stalkworthy. When the scene is over, there is silence.

  “Thank you for your time,” I say, turning to leave.

  “Chelsea, please have a seat. Frances can you go tell Arlene at the front we’ve found her.”

  “What did you say?” A million happy birds flutter about my insides. My smile is huge. Like my cheeks are becoming a little sore from smiling too much.

  “We’d like to offer you the part,” the bald man says. “Oh dear, where are my manners? My name’s Les Weinstein. This is Gary James.”

  I shake both their hands with my very jittery one. I’m still in shock.

  They go over a few small details and mention an agent who will handle the contract.

  “Carol Hale is great,” Gary tells me. “She’ll go over everything the studio expects.”

  “I think they’ll want to convey the girl next door image here,” Les says, waving his finger over me.

  “Ok.” I nod and keep nodding as they tell me a few things.

  Good girl image.

  Good reputation.

  Single.

  “Are you dating anyone?”

  “Yes, will that be a problem?” I ask. Now I’m nervous.

  Les shakes his head. “No, no. It’s fine. But let’s keep it hush hush for now.”

  I nod again.

  “Chelsea, any skeletons in your closet?” Gary asks with a little laugh.

  “Skeletons?” I ask, blankly. My mind won’t compute. At all. “No. My closet only has clothes.”

  He chuckles. “Very good. We’ll contact Carol, and she’ll be in touch.”

  I shake their hands again and walk out the door. Scratch that. Float out the door. I did it.

  But, it’s all surreal. I don’t know what to do. Who do I call? Jonah, of course. I can’t wait to tell him.

  Eeekk.

  21

  Jonah

  A text from Chelsea comes through asking me to meet her at Nathan’s Steakhouse. While I’m grabbing a black button down from my closet, my cell rings.

  “Hey, Mom,” I answer.

  “When are you coming over for dinner?” she asks.

  “Soon,” I tell her, putting her on speaker so I can finish getting ready. “I’ve just been busy at work.”

  “I got the latest issue,” she says. I tuck my shirt in and zip my black slacks. “I ordered the Viking wear to surprise your dad.”

  “Mom, Christ, I don’t need to know this.”

  Fuck. Now I don’t feel like eating.

  “Oh, hush,” she says. “Someday you’ll meet someone you’ll want these things from.”

  “Well…” I hesitate.

  “Have you met someone, Jonah?” She sounds way too happy. I’m sure she’s already planning our wedding. Except, I’m already married. “Who is she?”

  “Actually, it’s new and…”

  “Jonah Marshall,” uh oh, when I get the first and last name I’m in trouble, “just tell me her name. Stop being so afraid of commitment.”

  I run a little gel through my hair. She’s right. I don’t want to hide her from anyone. “Chelsea Sincock. The girl in the magazine.”

  “Oh my god. The Viking maiden?”

  “Yeah, Declan’s little sister.” I take her off speaker and head out. “I gotta go though, Mom. I’m meeting her for dinner.”

  “Shame on you for dropping that and running off.” I smile. “Okay, your dad will be home soon, and I need to go anyways. I’ll expect more details later.”

  “You got it,” I say, hopping in my Jeep. We disconnect, and I drive across town to meet Chelsea.

  When I enter the restaurant, she’s already waiting for me at a table. She looks stunning in a simple black dress that drapes slightly off one shoulder.

  I could stare at her all night. Then, that damn memory crashes through me. Vegas. Marriage. A wedding between Chelsea and me. I need to tell her. I need to get it annulled.

  I’ve lost my balls every time I should be telling her.

  How do I tell her when everything’s going so well? Stress digs into my system, and I rub my beard as Declan comes up behind me, clasping his hand on my shoulder.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “No clue. Chelsea told me to meet her here.”

  She glows as we take a seat at the white-clothed table. A waiter serves a bottle of Bordeaux. The air is a bit stuffy, and I yank at the collar of my shirt, trying to breathe. I’m nervous and not really sure why.

  Chelsea has had this big as sin grin on her face since we sat down.

  “What’s this big news?” Declan asks.

  “Wait, you’re not going to tell me you two are dating, are you?”

  Cringe.

  I shake my head. “Well…” We’re married too. Oh my God. Ok, baby steps first. Tell Declan we’re dating, then tell Chelsea we’re married.

  Chelsea shifts in her seat, like a kid too excited to sit still.

  “What’s going on?” I direct my question at her.

  “I got the part,” she exclaims, clasping her hands together in front of her. Her smile could light up the entire city of Los Angeles.

  “Get the fuck out,” Declan says, reaching over to hug her.

  “I knew you could do it,” I congratulate her.

  “There’s more,” she says. “They’re getting me an agent. I can’t believe it. Ah.” She glances upward with stars in her eyes.

  I’ve never seen her look more beautiful than she does tonight. “I’m so proud of you.” I want to kiss her, but I can’t because Declan’s here. Chelsea takes care of that problem.

  “Declan,” she grabs my hand. “Jonah and I are kind of seeing each other.”

  He stares, pointedly at me. “Is that true?”

  “Uh, yeah.” I’m a little shell-shocked, this is a lot of info coming at me all at once.

  “Yeah, and I’m crazy about him. I wouldn’t have gotten this part if it wasn’t for him.” After we answer Declan’s million questions—When? How long? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? —I apologize again for not telling him and she takes my hand, bringing it to her lips to kiss the top.

  He covers his mouth. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  I laugh. “Chill out, dude. I’m serious about her.” My eyes meet hers, and she smiles.

  “Well, you break her heart, and I’ll break your face…” he stares pointedly at me, “and please don’t kiss around me.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say, gazing at Chelsea.

  Chelsea blows out a relieved
breath. “That wasn’t so bad.” She laughs.

  “So, how did I help you get this part?” I ask.

  “It was your text. Telling me I didn’t need luck, that I’ve got this.” She leans forward and I take her lips against mine. “It’s my new lucky phrase.”

  “Dude, I said no kissing around me.” Declan flings his napkin at us, and we laugh.

  “Sorry, man.”

  The server drops off our food, and Declan orders a toast of champagne for us all.

  Chelsea is radiant tonight. It’s a little magical.

  But then, guilt washes over me. I need to tell her about the wedding. But, things are going so well between us.

  What if she freaks out?

  What if she blames me?

  I’ll handle the annulment myself, and she’ll be none the wiser. I got this.

  The next morning my mission gets aborted when Chelsea wakes me with an out-of-this-world blow job.

  Her sweet lips wrapped around my cock is the best way to start a morning.

  I lean back, letting her really get a hold of everything, and she does. She wraps a tiny hand around the base and pumps as her mouth keeps sucking, bobbing up and down.

  “Ah, fuck. You’re so good at this.”

  She’s so talented at everything. I groan as I hit the back of her throat. My hands fly into her hair, fisting it around my fingers. “Keep sucking.”

  She doesn’t let up, except to lick her way down and gently suck each ball into her mouth before working her way back up. All thoughts of an annulment are stricken from my brain. The only thoughts are of her sweet mouth and all that she’s doing for me.

  “Don’t stop. Fuck, I’m close.”

  My abs clench. My thighs tremble. I’m about to come all over her. My cock is ready. This girl turns me on more than anything.

  She moans against my dick and the vibration sets my orgasm off. “Oh God, I’m coming.” I fuck her mouth, coming deep down her throat.

  She sucks me dry, taking it all. And then I return the favor, eating her pussy until she screams my name. Best breakfast in the world.

  Later, when I leave for work, she pulls me in for a kiss. The feelings she causes, erupt, flowing through my system, destroying any sense of reality, and …really, what’s one more day of marriage? I’ll handle the annulment tomorrow.

  22