by K. A. Linde
That last drink must have been stronger than I’d thought because, suddenly, everything felt very warm. Very heady. My legs wobbled, and I could feel every one of my fingers, like little pins were pricking them. I blinked slowly and picked up the twelve.
When was the last time I’d been this drunk? I had no idea. I wasn’t really supposed to drink on my anxiety medication. They interacted in some way, so I avoided it. But it was a celebration, and then there were the naked people in a brothel bathtub. I’d needed the drink. Now, I was floating. And the eight-shot drink in front of me only helped along the feeling.
“How does this taste like a Dreamsicle?” I asked Julian, leaning into his broad chest.
His arm snaked around my waist. “You should go easy on it.”
“Mmhmm,” I purred, taking another sip.
Julian reached out and took the drink from my hand. He took a sip. “It does taste like a Dreamsicle. What even?”
I giggled and nodded. “Right?”
“Fuck, it’s good.”
My head tilted up toward him. His gaze swept to mine and held, intent and lustful. The space between us disappeared. Something passed between us. And I was drunk enough not to question it.
“Let me taste,” I whispered.
“You want a taste?”
I nodded. He slowly took another drink. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. I listed into him as I traced the movement.
Then his head dipped down, finishing the descent. A pause, and everything stalled and went dark and heated. Those beautiful lips pressed against mine, soft and hard, all at the same time. His tongue flicked out, brushing against mine. The taste of Dreamsicle exploded in my mouth just from the barest touch of him.
I moaned, a deep, throaty thing that, any other time, I would be embarrassed by, but right now, I had no other thoughts than this: Julian Wright was kissing me. Really kissing me.
No stolen moments in his office to make his ex jealous. There was no one here for him to impress. No one, except me.
My fingers fisted into the front of his shirt as I came onto my tiptoes to try to get closer to that perfect mouth. He set the number twelve down before dragging me tight against him. His hands splayed wide against my back before sliding to my hips. My pelvis pushed forward an inch until I was tight against him, could feel exactly how he felt about me.
Our lips moved like a synchronized dance, as if we’d been doing this all our lives. He kept one hand on my hip while his other moved along my side and up to my stomach. My skin heated at every brush of him against my body. Then he was running fingers under my breast, along the underwire.
I gasped at the contact, and he broke free of my lips, trailing kisses down my neck and across my collarbone. My core was on fire, and I was set to combust at the slightest touch.
“Jennifer,” he groaned and tugged me closer.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
A hand slid to the hem of my dress, caressing the soft skin of my thigh. I moaned again unabashedly. It was hard to think straight with him here, touching me like that.
His mouth moved to my ear. His tongue darted out to flick against the lobe. “We should get you home.”
“N-now?” I stammered out.
“I can’t do what I want with you here.”
I shivered at the words. “What-what do you want to do with me?”
His laughter was rough and gravelly. “Everything.”
13
Jennifer
“Oh,” I gasped.
Everything. It took my brain a minute to catch up. He meant…he meant, everything.
His hand moved up to the lace of my panties, and his words crystallized. He meant, he wanted me.
“Oh!”
Julian wanted me. Right now. He’d actually been asking me earlier if I felt something. Now that I knew the question, the answer was yes. So much yes.
He removed his roaming hands and stared down into my shocked face. He pressed another kiss to my swollen lips. “Ready to leave?”
The drink made me bolder than I ever would be otherwise. “God, yes.”
He smiled vibrantly and pulled me out of the bar. I didn’t even bother to say good-bye to Chester. We took an Uber back, tiptoeing through the darkened house. My parents were clearly asleep down the hall, but we didn’t want to risk waking them.
I dropped my purse on the counter as we stumbled into the bedroom. Then Julian was there again. His hot body pressing into me. It was so much that I could barely breathe as his hand tilted my chin up to look at him, and then when he saw what he was looking for, he pressed his lips to mine again. I sighed like a drowning girl getting her first taste of air.
“Julian,” I whispered, a plea.
He’d had more to drink than me. He’d even finished the number twelve, and somehow, he wasn’t slurring or stumbling. He cupped my face in his hands as if I were as precious as diamonds and as fragile as glass. My eyes fluttered when he pulled back to stare down at me.
“Do you want this?”
“You?”
He nodded, his thumbs drawing circles along my jaw. “Tell me you want me.”
I swallowed and bit my lip. “I want you.”
His gaze remained on mine. A flush suffused my skin at the direct contact. “Say it again.”
I laughed, managed to be embarrassed, even while drunk. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“With you? Never.”
“And what do you want?” I asked with a huff.
His smile was practically feline. “Shall I show you?”
He didn’t wait for my reply, just dropped his mouth onto mine. Slow and languid, nipping at the bottom lip and sending shivers down my spine. I clung to him. My fingers moving up into the dark strands of his hair. I’d wondered how the silky strands felt, and here I was, discovering it for myself.
Julian stepped backward, and I tripped, nearly landing in a pile on the floor.
He laughed softly. “You’re drunk.”
“So are you,” I muttered as he helped me back up.
“Tipsy,” he corrected.
He swept an arm under my knees and effortlessly lifted me into the air. I threw my arms around him. He chuckled as he carried me the short distance to our small double bed and laid me out across it. I let my sandals slip off the side of the bed. Brazenly, I left the skirt of my dress hitched up high on my thighs.
His gaze traveled across the milky skin. I could see a spot of indecision on his face, and then I steeled myself and reached for him. I took his hand in mine and drew him down onto the bed next to me. That was apparently all the invitation he needed before his mouth covered mine again. And God willing, he still tasted like a Dreamsicle. I’d never taste one again and not think about him.
Alcohol battered against my anxiety, releasing its hold on me. It was only me and Julian in the room. I’d wanted this with him from day one. I didn’t plan to refuse whatever he was offering. Whatever the outcome.
His hands were more hesitant than they’d been at the bar, staying firmly planted on my sides as he kissed me. But I wanted more. My core was pulsing in tempo with our kisses.
“I thought you said everything,” I whispered.
His eyes flared wide at my words. “And I meant it. Show me what you want.”
The alcohol silenced my inner panic. In a bold gesture, I pushed his hand lower, lower, lower, over my hip and across the top of my thighs until he was precisely where I wanted him.
Shock mingled with desire in his irises as his hand settled between my legs. “Is that so?”
His fingers skimmed the hem of my dress, slipping under the material and reaching the cotton panties. He dragged one finger down the center of the fabric. I jolted in shock as the contact sent sparks through me.
“There,” I whispered.
His head dipped to my ear. “You want me to touch your pussy?”
I groaned at the filthy words as he leisurely rolled a finger around my clit. I was already wet from just this, soaking
through the material. Surely, he could feel it. I was too heated to care.
“Please.”
He made a noise in the back of his throat that shot straight between my legs. He slid a finger under the fabric, finally—finally—touching me. He slicked a finger through my wetness and dragged it up to my clit.
“Oh fuck, Jen,” he growled.
His pelvis ground against my hip, and I could feel the length of him through his pants.
My head fell back onto the pillow as he continued to bring me to new heights. Then the pressure on my hip disappeared, and suddenly, his body was positioned between my legs. He released my clit, slipping the panties over my curvy hips and tossing them to the floor.
Before I could think what would happen next, he buried his face between my legs. I stifled a cry as his tongue flicked against my clit. I jerked and squirmed under the contact, but he forced my hips back down on the bed with his forearm. My hands flew over my head in shock as my orgasm hit me full blast. Still, he licked me until he drew out every ounce of my climax.
He released me when I was left panting on the bed. My eyes remained firmly closed, and I tried to process what had happened. But processing wasn’t exactly possible.
His weight shifted off the bed, and I turned in his direction. Julian stood next to me. He peeled off his shirt first, revealing the glorious six-pack beneath. He was lean and ripped from hours of soccer, running, and weight lifting with Hollin. Then went his belt buckle.
My mouth watered at the sight, and I came up to my knees on the bed. His eyes flashed to mine as he drew the buckle back and let it hang open. I scooted forward, pushing his hands away.
“You’re doing my job,” I told him.
His eyes widened again. “All yours, Dreamsicle.”
I giggled at the nickname. “You’re the one who tasted like it.”
His hands grasped my jaw, and he pressed a firm kiss to my lips. “Get to work.”
I heated under that tone. Confident, demanding, and oh-so predatory. I hadn’t known Julian had that tone. But my body tightened all over at the sound of it.
He released me, and I popped the button on his slacks. My fingers fumbled with the zipper, but then I got it. I pushed his pants over his narrow hips, leaving him in nothing but baby-blue boxers. My nails skimmed the waistband, dipping an inch inside before retreating. It was his turn to hiss and try to get more. I grinned and did it again.
“Who the fuck knew that you were this much of a tease?” he growled.
My eyes met his, and I pushed my hand all the way in, taking his dick in my hand. “I’m not a tease.”
“Fuck.”
His eyes rolled into the back of his head at my contact. I didn’t consider any other options, just withdrew him from his boxers and dropped my mouth onto the head. Pre-cum tasted salty on the tip, but I swallowed it down.
“Oh God,” he breathed. His hands delved into my hair, tightening his grip but not directing. “You feel fucking spectacular.”
“Mmm,” I groaned as I took him in my mouth.
As nervous and anxious as I was under normal circumstances, blow jobs had always been easier to think about than sex. I’d gotten really, really good at them, thanks to a lot of douche bags in high school and college. It was the only thing I could thank them for. But it was also something I’d learned to really enjoy. Not because I could deep-throat without gagging or my jaw didn’t hurt or anything. It was the sounds of pleasure Julian was making. Knowing I was responsible for that, it was a power that I didn’t have anywhere else in my life.
“Jen,” he said. “Please.”
He stilled me, and I frowned.
I stroked him up and down. “I’m going to finish.” I licked my lips. “Don’t you want me to?”
“Fuck. Yes.”
“Then…what are you doing?”
“I need to be inside of you.” He said it so naturally. As if it wasn’t a revelation to my senses.
He fished a condom out of his pocket and held it in the air. “Just to be safe.”
I took it out of his hand, tore the wrapper, and unrolled it over his dick. Then I sat back on the too-small bed and tugged my dress up and over my head. I flicked the clasp on my bra and let my breasts fall out.
“Fuck, Jen,” he groaned as his body covered mine. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Music to my ears. Beautiful wasn’t the word most men used to describe me. I’d firmly been cute most of my life, but when he’d said it, the way he’d said it, I believed him.
The first touch of him between my legs made my eyes roll backward. He squeezed my hip reassuringly before sliding the rest of the way in. It was a tight fit, even as wet as I was. He filled me to the brim in a way that I’d never been filled before. It wasn’t just that I hadn’t had sex in a while. This was Julian. Everything felt so much bigger and better and more momentous.
He leaned forward over me, dragging our lips together as he started thrusting inside of me. I brought my legs up around his hips, meeting his thrusts with my own. I could barely breathe, barely think. Everything was hot and needy and building, building, building.
“Fuck, your pussy is so tight,” he ground out into my ear.
I cried out at the filthy words, and he covered my yells with his mouth, fucking me harder. I didn’t want him to stop. Not ever. My second orgasm was knocking on the door of the first. I could feel it coming on so close. I’d never come twice in one night, except by my own hand.
“Close,” he said.
“So close,” I repeated.
Then he lifted one of my legs onto his shoulder, and I swallowed back a shout as he managed to get even deeper.
“Oh fuck!” I moaned. And then I was coming, and there was no way to stop the cascade as it burst free like a broken dam. I tightened around him to the point of pain.
Julian came hard inside of me as my climax triggered his. He was stiff for a few seconds before finally collapsing forward on top of me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled incoherently.
I stroked his dark hair out of his face and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Mmhmm.”
He trailed his fingers over my stomach and to my hips, kissing across my chest and to my breasts. “You’re incredible.”
I was so relaxed that I nearly fell asleep right there with him still buried inside of me. Me. The girl who took an hour to get her brain to calm down enough to sleep every night. I’d never been this relaxed in my entire life.
Finally, Julian retreated and went to the bathroom to clean up. I followed after he was done. When I came back into the bed, still naked, I crashed into his awaiting arms.
Then without preamble, I let sleep take me over as if I had never had a concern a day in my entire life. As if I were a different girl entirely.
14
Jennifer
I was still naked when the first ray of morning hit me. Julian had one arm wrapped loosely around my waist. He didn’t even stir as I shifted to look at him. He snuggled in closer under the comforter and sighed happily when I ran my fingers across his back.
Julian Wright was in bed…with me.
Part of me couldn’t process that. I was still waking up. Dawn had broken, but my brain hadn’t caught up. It was likely because I was hungover as shit. My head pounded. My stomach roiled. The light was too bright. But still, I wanted to preserve this memory forever.
Last night had been a dream. It didn’t even feel real despite all the obvious reality around me. I didn’t normally get drunk. Definitely not drunk enough to sleep with Julian Wright. Definitely not drunk enough for everything that had happened last night. Yet here I was.
I wanted to lie in this dream forever, but I couldn’t.
With a sigh, I scooted out of the bed. Julian’s arm dropped into the empty space. I flicked the covers up around him and then tiptoed to the dresser. I threw on my sleeping clothes and tugged my wild hair up into a half-ponytail. I needed something to drink, Tylenol, and my anxiety meds. None of
which were in this room with Julian.
I snuck one more glance at his sleeping form before stepping out of the bedroom. My foot hit a creaky board, and I winced.
“Jennifer?” my mom’s voice called from the kitchen.
I cursed under my breath, deeply regretting leaving the sanctuary of Julian’s arms, and then stepped into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom.”
“Breakfast?” she asked, cracking eggs into a bowl.
“Sure.” I poured myself a glass of water and fished out my pills from my purse. I downed one with two Tylenol, hoping it would do its trick fast enough to let me deal with my mom.
“How was your night?”
“Good.” I took a seat at the island.
“You came in late.”
“We went out with Chester.”
My mom smiled brightly at my brother’s name. “I’m glad to see you two are getting along.” Then she frowned. “Did he tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“He and Margaret broke up.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
Well, that explained his behavior last night. My brother was a chameleon. He took on the shape of the people around him. Around my parents, he was the perfect son. Around Margaret, the perfect boyfriend. Around me, the antagonistic, older brother, smarter and wiser and better in every way. But last night, he hadn’t been any of those things. He’d existed with people I didn’t know, in a world I didn’t understand. But I’d seen a weight lifted off of his shoulders.
“He didn’t say.”
“Well, you know your brother. He’s very private.”
“I could see that they were fighting. What happened?”
My mom shook her head. “He said that she wanted to move home with him and find a job in Lubbock, but that the spark wasn’t there anymore.”
“That’s sad. I liked Margaret.”
My mom slid a plate of eggs in front of me. “Speaking of relationships.”
Oh boy.
“You and Julian?”
“Yeah?” I asked, reaching for the fork.
“He seems like a nice boy, Jennifer, but are you sure this is what you want?”