I’m at breaking point and ready to do or say anything to get him to just do me. I’ve always been sexual, and yeah, I can’t pretend a romantic attitude towards sex when realistically it’s all good in its own way and many men have made me come before, but for some unfathomable reason having this man inside me drives me so hard, so quick to that place where my sex is burning and pulsing.
I’ve never had this wild feeling of uncontrolled desperation with another man, and the odds are I probably never will again. So why not give in and have this for the next little while?
“Fine,” I answer before I can overthink things and change my mind. “I’ll be with you and only you till…just move!”
His grin is predatory and victorious, but I don’t give a damn as he thrusts into me in one hard jab of his hips, the pleasure-pain so startling I feel myself quiver and grasp at his hard length.
From then on out all I can do is hang on and go along for a ride that is in turns hard and hot and dirty and soft and slow as he changes up his strokes and labors over me, our hips slapping loudly in the room. I don’t stop looking up at him through it all, no matter how much my eyes droop and try to slam closed when the pleasure becomes so great it actually hurts.
Jones is magnificent, beastly, inhumanly good as he takes me like a man possessed, a man who knows just how to work a woman’s body as if he owns it.
He’s sweating, our skin slipping and sliding where we’re joined, and I love every minute of the carnal filth he does and says to me.
“I like this, Indie. Can you hear how wet you are for me?”
The whispered snarl has me straining as I close my eyes at least and take it all in—heat, sweat, skin, the smell of our sex perfuming the air.
It’s that last drive I need to push me over the edge, and when I come I scream out his name, slam back into him, and let the madness take me. My sex is ecstatic and screaming with violent clenches as I wet him with my heat.
“Yes, fuck yes, I feel your heartbeat on my dick. Squeeze, Indie,” he commands, making me obey mindlessly, the action driving my orgasm to a place where all I see is bright lights and all I hear is his roar as he stiffens, digs his hips impossibly deeper, and jets into me in hot, heavy streams.
“Mine.”
I hear the gasped claim and revel in the pleasure it brings even as I sigh my fears into his neck. Yes, I think I am his. I think I have been from the moment I looked at him and saw my perfect match.
Chapter Twelve
“I’m glad he’s single because I’m gonna climb that like a tree.” -Megan
Woody
I love and despise everything I’m feeling as I roll over in bed and take a long look at the woman sleeping quietly beside me. I love that she’s here and that the heat and silky softness of her body is wrapped around me, bringing with it a peace I haven’t felt in so long I’m not sure I remember ever really feeling it at all.
I love that she’s knocked out and dead to the world because I fucked her so good and hard, to such long and intense orgasms that she couldn’t keep her eyes open.
I love that instead of having an awkward moment after I recovered ad looked down at her, all I saw was a cheeky smile and acceptance shining from her brown eyes.
I hate this feeling of uncertainty that comes with it though, because I do not like feeling like things might crash and burn without knowing how that may come about.
That’s the thing that bugs me the most and possibly why I haven’t ever really been in many relationships. They’re unpredictable and way too difficult to put clear-cut boundaries and definitions on.
And honestly, even if that were possible, I don’t think I have it in me to do that with Indie. Somehow putting a time limit on this thing feels wrong, but I saw the minute I got serious and she knew it that she was ready to bolt and I could not have that.
As I lay and stare at her and contemplate what I want to do and what I can, letting go of the angst and emotion I feel for now, I think about the last few years of my life, after college, after building the business and finally having room to breathe. I realize I haven’t been happy in a long time.
“Stop staring, it’s weird and slightly turning me on,” she mumbles, coming awake with a smile that melts every part of me even as my dick starts paying attention.
I roll onto my side facing her and run a hand over her ass, loving the toned, silky handful that slides over my fingers.
“Can’t help it, you’re just too cute.”
She snorts and kisses my nose before settling back on her tummy and looking at me through one eye.
“What’s up, Jones?”
“Well besides the obvious…” I laugh, looking down at my dick. “I was just wondering about all your tattoos. What’s this one?”
I rub a finger over the little goat on her butt and she grins, raising an eyebrow.
“Gruffy. I got it the summer I turned eighteen. She almost killed me when Callie blabbed to her but she laughed so hard after that I couldn’t bring myself to tell her that it was my cheeky way of saying kiss my ass.”
I chuckle at that and work my way up her spine, licking at the words tattooed near her right shoulder blade.
“This one?”
“The Lord’s Prayer in Old Latin. I figured I’d be covered for eventualities if I ever bit the big one.”
“Ah, smart. This?” I kiss the little set of teeth beneath her ear and she giggles.
“Callie. We used to call her Biter. When we were seven she lost a bet to me and went nuts. She sank her teeth in there and shook me like a dog. That right there was the moment I realized she was my best friend.”
“Explain.”
“Well she let go and even kissed it. If it had been anyone else they’d have lost an ear, at least. She’s vicious when she’s riled.”
I laugh and turn her onto her back, rubbing my nose over the dragon that graces part of her left shoulder and chest.
“That one was for Gramps. He was my dragon, my fiercest protector and my strong, warm place to go to.”
That one chokes me up a little, I won’t lie. I see her eyes glitter for a moment before she blinks them and smiles, pointing at the red polka dot bow over her heart.
“Dotty. She has this special place in my heart and she always will. She’s a softie, that one, and me and Percy decided early on to always love and protect her and shield her from the world.”
“She’s lucky to have you,” I murmur, kissing the lips on her right ribcage.
“Percy. She’s the mouth—the sassy, sarcastic loud mouth we all love.
The right arm where she’s got a rattle is next and I feel her tense.
“That was my foster mom’s baby. His name was Birch and he died when he was a year old. He was my buddy and I loved him. One day he was there, cooing and slobbering all over me, and the next he was just gone. The doctors said he had a heart defect that went undetected and his body couldn’t keep up anymore. He died in his crib in my room and I woke up and found him.”
“Christ, Indie, I am so sorry,” I murmur, pulling her into my arms.
“It’s okay, Sister Agnes May said he was where he was supposed to be, and besides, I figured he was better off wherever he was as opposed to where he would have grown up.”
I want to ask her about the rest but I can’t seem to get a word out as we lay there in silence and just hold each other, for once at peace and completely comfortable with the silence.
Part of me regrets asking her about them but another part is glad because this is the part of her that no one else sees, and I like knowing that I am one of only a few that gets to understand the girl behind the tattoos and bad language.
“I’m glad you’re here, Indie.”
“Me too. Now shut up and wipe your eyes, girlie. I’m awake, we may as well have sex.”
***
Indie
“You shut your face.”
“No, you shut your face! You’re screwing this up and ruining my stats, Jones. Hell, do you
not understand the whole point of a two-player team-up?” I yell as he once again fails to kill the sniper on my ass and gets me killed for the third time.
“This game sucks,” he mutters, tossing the controller onto the floor beside his legs.
“You suck, Jones. You suck. I let Dot play with me once and even she was better. That’s saying a lot since she had her eyes closed and was squeaking half the time.
I’m ragging the hell out of him, but it’s so much fun I just can’t help it. We’ve been playing Xbox for an hour after we both trudged home from his office and fell on a pizza like starved raccoons at a trash can.
Most days, for the last week at least, I go to work with him, curb his natural instincts to flirt with anything with boobs and a hint of vagina, and just get through a few other clients that I’m handling without him knowing.
What? Like I’m going to sit in his office eight hours a day and stare at the walls? Give me a break. I like working, and I have a few really good matches that I just can’t wait to arrange.
Jones has been on two dates thus far after rescheduling poor Marcy who sat at that restaurant and waited for an hour before going home alone. I felt terrible but she just shrugged and accepted the lie that I forgot to call her when the guy rescheduled.
We’re date free tonight, and thank God because it’s seriously starting to get to me seeing him go through my choices and actually look at potential matches with interest.
When I’m not mooning over him, having sex with him, cooking for him or playing pimp, I’m playing Xbox to relieve the stress I feel for what’s to come.
Because yes, I went and messed up and actually fell for the man, deeper and harder than I had before. This time around is worse because I actually know him now and I like him, warts and all.
Even knowing that I’m just his sex buddy while he checks out “better” prospects.
“You okay, baby?” he asks when I grunt and scowl at the TV, hating the direction my thoughts keep going no matter how many times I tell myself to disengage and just enjoy this for the easy, no-strings fling it is.
For the first time in my life I don’t want a fling and I finally know what all those guys felt when I refused another date or tossed their gifts in the trash.
“Fine, just not into this tonight, I guess. Want to watch TV?”
“Nope. Jack called and asked if we could babysit a little later. I told him I’d ask you.”
Hell yeah! Nothing makes me feel better than seeing the babies I won’t ever have, and seeing two people so in love it’s physically nauseating. Not.
“Sure but you get Preston. He may only be a few months old but that little demon has the biting gene. How do they get it to hurt when there aren’t any teeth?”
He laughs and gives me a peck on the mouth before jumping up and pulling me along behind him. By the time we’re ready to leave I have a bit more of a handle on my emotions and I don’t even snarl too loudly when we walk out of his building and a woman passing checks him out.
“Easy there, tiger, she was just looking.”
“She should look at my fist since it’s going to be buried in her face in a minute,” I mutter, snarling at him as he opens the door for us to slide in and then directs the driver to take us to Jack and Callie’s place.
I ignore him, that shit-eating grin, and the way he keeps humming beneath his breath to stare out at the window and think about what I’m doing.
The situation is just so weird I can’t quite wrap my brain around it, especially not when Jones is on me at all hours of the day, even locking his office door and gagging me at one point because he couldn’t stand another moment of seeing me and not being in me.
It shouldn’t be sweet, I shouldn’t see his need for me as sweet and romantic because I know that in the end, all it is is lust while I am head over asshole in love with the man.
And I can’t even hate him because I haven’t told him so he can’t possibly be held responsible.
“Baby? We’re here.”
I take his hand as he helps me out and avoid his eyes as the door opens and Jack comes out to give me a bear hug before slapping Jones on the back, hard, and scowling.
“This is your thing and you’re getting the poor girl to do your dirty work?”
“Jack, I’m a businessman. I don’t do diapers with toxic waste or take toddlers to the potty. She’s getting paid.”
This is news to me but I shrug and accept the bribe, keeping to myself that I would have done it anyway since I love the little shitters enough to handle acid crap.
“Yeah, he’s rolling in dough and I’m a businesswoman. It’s a hundred a diaper and fifty per potty break.”
Jack laughs as he starts complaining and I make my way inside to kiss Callie who’s running around with her hair still in rollers as little Jack toddles behind her with mini rollers in her black curls.
“Mama. Me want shadow toos!”
“Jack, go bug Aunt Indie, why don’t ya? Your brother just unloaded a minefield in his diaper and Mommy still needs to put her shoes on.”
“And do your hair!” I yell, catching Jack as she launches herself at me with a squeal.
“Mama saidst I can have wise cweam.”
What a little con artist.
“Yeah? What say we go ask Daddy and then maybe you can show me your unicorn collection?”
“Yeah!”
She runs off with a war whoop, bypassing Jack and Jones for her room where her obsessions reside. Jack strolls over to me and throws an arm around my shoulders, hugging me close for a minute before looking down at me.
“You okay?”
“Still trucking. And fucking.” I grin, laughing at his huff of laughter, my smile dying when we both turn to watch Jones inspect the DVD collection.
“He’s an ass but he’s not a bad guy, Indie.”
“I know, Jack. He’s just clueless is all.”
“Not a surprise. Woody was always so focused he usually missed the things happening around him.” He laughs, sighing loudly.
“Yah think? He gave me a list of everything he finds essential in a woman he wants to commit to. Apparently she needs to want a domestic life with strong emphasis on motherhood and building the home. Has anyone introduced Jones to the real world as we know it right now?” I mutter, rolling my eyes when he picks up a copy of The Wedding Singer and smiles.
“He wants what his parents have is all and he just doesn’t see compromise. He’ll learn, babe.”
“Sure, with a slap upside his fool head. But whatever, right? It’s not like I should care or anything. He chose one of the younger daughters of some Chicago blue blood as his next match.”
Depressing! The girl is so pretty and nice, I want to punch Jones in his balls and tell him not to punish that sweet little thing with his bad attitude and sexy smile.
“He’s always had this picture in his head of a girl who was sweet and easy to get along with. Freddie and I tried to tell him that a man with his temperament would eat a biddable miss for breakfast but he’s too damn pig headed to listen. Now if some strong, kickass chick should make him aware of what he really needs…”
Yeah, I should be a freaking wildebeest with the amount of mental snorting I’ve done in the last two months. Like that is happening. The last time I made a play for Jones I ended up on the sidewalk with his cum running down my legs.
Whatever happens now is all him, and with the way he’s going through matches like a hot knife through butter, I have the feeling I’m going to end up earning that fucking bonus. Meanwhile, I’m gonna keep grinding that wood and enjoy the hell out of it while I can.
Chapter Thirteen
“Nice beaver.”
“Thank you. I just had it stuffed.”
“Let me help you with that.”
Woody
“Oh God, yes, right there, Jones.”
I’m breathing heavy and gritting my teeth against the need to come as I slam into Indie, harder, faster, with so much raw power and lus
t I feel my balls go tight and hard where they slap against her mound as I drill her from behind.
I’ve been away from her for two days when an emergency trip came up and I almost went nuts just thinking about her lying in my bed, playing with that damn purple toy like she threatened to do when I came home to pack.
The minute I stepped in the door I was on her, and I’m not even a little ashamed that I had to tickle her natural lube to flow after I was already balls deep.
The woman just affects me this way, makes me crazy and has me panting with lust for her at all hours of the day.
I’m currently balls deep in her sex and riding her hard while she’s bent over the back of the sofa, the ruins of her silk panties twisted around one ankle as I grab her shoulders and pull her back into my thrusts.
She loves it and I’m so turned on by her aggression and harsh screams that I’ve been gritting my teeth and holding my orgasm till the sweet, slippery heat fisting me starts sucking at my shaft.
“You like that, you naughty imp? Take it harder. Take your punishment,” I growl, pulling her head back to get at her mouth.
Indie mewls and starts gyrating back into me, her breasts swinging with every twist of her hips, every slap of my dick into her. I catch her agonized scream of pleasure as her sex quivers and clamps down, sucking me deeper and going so tight as she comes, I can’t move a muscle.
It’s okay since just that first ripple has me coming. The pleasure is intense, hard, achingly beautiful as it sweeps up from my feet and brings me to my toes as I offload enough to have me seeing stars.
When I can think again and register what the hell has happened we’re both on the floor, her back plastered to my front where she lays on my chest, legs splayed, still joined to my softening member.
“Holy hell, Jones, what was that?” she laughs, panting to catch the breath sucked right out of her.
“Sorry. Too long,” I huff, my eyes still closed as I try to still my heart and breath normally.
I feel like I just got sideswiped by a truck, but it’s so Goddamned good I can’t be bothered to move a muscle, even when I feel our juices running down my thing to pool on the rug beneath me, a rug that cost more than most people’s cars.
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