Dead Pretty

by Samantha Towle

  Jack growls, his mouth coming to cover mine as he keeps on fucking me. My breasts crushed to his chest, I drag my nails down his back.

  And he fucks me harder and harder.

  “Getting close, Audrey. Need you there with me.”

  “Yes,” I chant. “Yes.”

  And I’m not lying. There is no need for faking with Jack. Because he gets me there every single time.

  No matter how many orgasms he’s already given me, my body seems to be primed and ready to go again for him at any given moment.

  I feel the impending signs of my orgasm.

  “Come now, Audrey. I can’t hold off much longer.”

  “I’m almost … there …” I pant. “Jack!” I grip his waist, digging my nails into his skin, as I explode around his cock.

  I feel him start to come immediately, his dick pulsing fiercely inside of me.

  He wasn’t kidding when he said he was close.

  I love that he holds off on coming, waiting for me. Needing us to come together.

  It’s sweet. And hot.

  So very goddamn hot.

  His forehead is pressed to mine. Both of us trying to catch our breaths.

  “That was … amazing,” I say when I’ve finally gotten control of my breathing.

  “You’re amazing.” He pushes my hair back off my sweat-dampened forehead and presses a tender kiss to my cheek and then another to my lips.

  “As are you.” I stifle a sudden yawn.

  “You tired?” Jack asks.

  “You’ve worn me out.”

  That makes him smile.

  “Need a shower though. I’m all sticky.”

  “Same.”

  Jack lifts himself up, bringing me with him.

  He holds me against him for a moment.

  His hand in my hair, the other wrapped around my back, he hugs me.

  Emotion packs itself into my chest.

  I hug Jack back, listening to the beat of his strong heart.

  He presses a kiss to the top of my head and then pulls back.

  I really don’t like the feeling when he’s no longer inside me.

  I feel empty. Alone.

  Like I was for so long before he came into my life.

  Jack helps me down from the counter, and then he removes his condom, ties it off, and gets rid of it in the wastebasket.

  Leaving Jack, I head to the bathroom and take a shower. Washing my hair and cleaning my body. I don’t like removing the scent of him from me, but knowing he’s waiting out there for me makes it all the better.

  When I’m finished, Jack gets in the shower after me.

  I dress quickly while he’s in the shower, putting on another fresh tank top and going with just panties this time.

  I’m brushing out the tangles in my hair when Jack comes out of the bathroom in just a towel.

  “Hey.” I smile at the sight of him.

  I put my hairbrush down and climb into bed, getting under the covers.

  Jack dries off before going back into the bathroom to take the towel back, and I happily watch his naked butt retreat away.

  He turns the light off when he returns, still very much naked. And if I’m not wrong, he’s rocking a semi.

  He gets into bed beside me, lying on his back, pulling me into his arms. I rest my head on his chest, my fingers playing with the line of hair that runs from his belly button to one of my favorite parts of his body.

  “Jack?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Is your cock hard again?”

  I hear and feel his deep chuckle.

  “You’re seriously ready for round … what are we at now?” I ask, stunned at this man’s ability to get a boner.

  “No clue. I lost count,” he admits, and we both laugh this time. “And to answer your question, yeah, my dick is hard again.”

  I turn my eyes up to his. “Is it always like that—permanently rocking a semi?”

  A grin reaches his eyes. “Only since I met you. I’ve been hard every day since.”

  Well, if that doesn’t boost my ego.

  “I’ve been wet every day since I met you.”

  It only seems fair to share that information with him.

  “Fucking hell,” he growls. “Keep saying stuff like that, and there’ll be no sleep for either of us tonight.”

  I smile, unrepentant. “Is that a promise?”

  “You can bet your sweet ass it is.”

  “Then, you should probably also know that I’ve masturbated to thoughts of you pretty much every night since I met you too.”

  He moves so fast that I barely get a chance to blink before I’m on my back and he’s on top of me, hips between my legs.

  “Just for that teasing, you’re going to do that for me right now.”

  “What?”

  “Masturbate in front of me. I want to see you get yourself off.”

  I feel myself flush all over. But I’m not opposed to the thought either.

  Honestly, I really like the thought of doing that for him.

  “Fair enough. But only if you do the same.”

  “You want to see me jerk off, Audrey?”

  I bite my lip and nod my head. I can feel heat rising in my cheeks, flooding down my chest, over my breasts, covering my body.

  “You want me to show you what I do every night in bed and every morning in the shower with the thought of only you in my head?”

  He’s masturbated over me too? It’s another boost to my ego.

  “All these weeks I’ve spent jerking over you. Lot of wasted time really, when we could have been doing this … doing each other. So, let’s not waste any more time, huh? Let’s make up for the time we lost instead.”

  And we do.

  Neither of us gets a wink of sleep until we’re boneless and exhausted in the early hours of the morning.

  And it isn’t until that moment, when I’m on the cusp of sleep, lying in the comfort of Jack’s arms, that I realize I never did the usual sweep of my apartment when I first got home. I was too busy falling into Jack to even give it a second thought.

  And the locks on my front door …

  I didn’t bolt them all up.

  Just one lock is keeping my door secure.

  And … I don’t feel scared.

  I feel safe.

  Because of Jack.

  I open my eyes to find Jack already awake and watching me.

  “Morning.” I smile. My voice is croaky.

  “Morning.” He leans close and brushes a soft kiss over my lips.

  I try not to breathe on him, consciously aware of my morning breath.

  I snuggle against his warm chest. He wraps his arms around me.

  “How long have you been awake?” I ask him.

  “Not long.”

  “Did you sleep okay?”

  “Better than I have in a long time.”

  That makes me smile.

  It’s also the same for me. I can’t remember the last time I slept so easily.

  I feel well rested.

  I always sleep on high alert nowadays. I sleep light, ready to hear any noise that shouldn’t be there. And if I ever do drop into a deep sleep, it’s plagued with nightmares and bad memories.

  But this morning, I feel lighter. Almost like I had a dreamless sleep.

  It’s crazy how one person can come into your life and change things for the better in the smallest period of time. I refuse to think about how a person can do the exact opposite in limited time too.

  My past is over and done with.

  This is the here and now, and as I lie here, staring into Jack’s gorgeous eyes, things look a whole lot brighter.

  “What time is it?” I yawn.

  “Just after eight.”

  I groan. “Ugh.”

  “Do you have to work today?”

  “Yeah. I start work in an hour.”

  “I’ll drive you in.”

  “You don’t have to.” I look up at him.

  “If I don’t,
you’ll walk, right? That means, you’ll have to leave earlier, and that means, I’ll have less time with you. Also, I need to work on my book. Where better than the library? It’s quiet, and the view is fantastic there.”

  His hand squeezes my ass cheek, making me giggle.

  I’m giggling all the damn time around him.

  It’s hideous.

  I really need to stop it.

  “We can have lunch together, if you want?”

  “Oh, well, I was going to go into the adoption center today on my lunch break and sign up for more dog-walking.”

  He smiles. I can tell he likes that.

  “Any dog in particular?” he asks.

  “Gary.” I grin. “I feel bad for Pork Chop though. But I don’t think I’m strong enough to walk him when he pulls.”

  “So, why don’t I join you? We can walk them together.”

  “Another date?” I ask, my eyes searching his.

  He stares into my eyes. “You can call it another date. I’ll just call it dating.” He presses a soft, sweet kiss to my lips. “Which is what we’re doing, if you didn’t know.”

  “We are?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Do I get a say in this?”

  “Of course you do. You’ll say we shouldn’t date. But give me no actual solid reason as to why. I’ll counterargue that you’re being stupid because, clearly, we should be dating—if not for the chemistry between us alone. We’ll bicker back and forth. I’ll lose patience, and I’ll shut you up with a kiss. That will undoubtedly turn into sex. You’ll have a minimum of two orgasms—which is great. But then you will be late for work—not so great. Ultimately, you’ll give in and admit what we both know is inevitable for you and me, Audrey … which is, yes, we are dating.”

  My mouth is hanging open in shock.

  “Or”—he presses a kiss to my open lips—“you can just agree with what we both know is inevitable—that we should be a couple. And we’ll have sex now, saving the argument time. Meaning that I’ll still be able to feed you and get you to work on time.”

  “Uh … I honestly don’t know what to say to that.”

  He’s grinning. “Yes is the only word you have to say.”

  I can’t stop staring at his handsome face. “You are like no one I have ever known in my life before.”

  “Good.” He smiles. “I’m glad to be your first.” He kisses me again. “Now, say, Yes, Jack, I want to date you.”

  I don’t respond even though I might want to.

  It’s not the right thing to do.

  I’m not meant to be happy in this way. I’m not meant to get close to anyone.

  But he’s also right. This thing between us is inevitable.

  Would it be so wrong for me to keep seeing Jack? See where this thing between us goes?

  It might lead nowhere. It could all fall apart. I might actually realize in a week that I don’t like him.

  I mean, I don’t see that happening, but you never know.

  And … Jack might think the same of me.

  He might get bored of my weird ways. Having to have sex with me wearing a tank top all the time. He might think, Screw this, and call things off.

  I ignore the knot of pain I feel in my chest at the thought of it.

  But … in the meantime, I can have some time with him now. Enjoy it before he leaves me. Which he inevitably will.

  “Audrey …” Jack murmurs, kissing my jaw.

  “Jack …”

  “Say, Yes, Jack, we’re dating.” Another kiss to the corner of my mouth.

  His lips hover a breath away. His eyes staring into mine. The smile in them making my heart beat faster.

  I let out a sigh. “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Okay what?”

  “Okay, we’re dating.”

  His face expands into a smile right before he kisses me.

  “You’ve made a good choice,” he murmurs.

  “I hope I don’t regret it,” I tease.

  He eases me onto my back and climbs on top of me, nestling his hips between mine. I feel his cock, already hard, pressing up against my clit, making it throb.

  He smiles up at me. “I’ll make sure you don’t.”

  After a hard and fast—well, fast for Jack—sex session, we decide to take turns, having a shower.

  I go in first. Part of me feels wistful that we can’t shower together. But I can’t let him see my scars. It’s just the way it is, and there is no point in having a pity party over it.

  When I get out of the shower, Jack isn’t in the bedroom, so I quickly dry off, putting on my bra and pulling on a tank top.

  I call out to Jack that I’m finished in the shower, and he replies that he’ll be there soon.

  It doesn’t take me long to finish getting ready. I didn’t wash my hair because I’d already washed it last night. So, I brush it out and then plait it, bringing it over my shoulder, checking it in the mirror as I do it. I apply moisturizer to my face. My skin does not like this cold weather, and it’s also a little sore from Jack’s stubble, as are my lips, so I apply some lip balm to them. Well, actually, a lot of my body is sore. Muscles were used last night that I hadn’t even known that I had, and between my legs is a constant reminder that Jack was there.

  I know that, all day at the library, I’ll be thinking about every moment of last night with him.

  Good thing I’m not a guy; otherwise, I would be hiding a stiffy all day long.

  That thought makes me chuckle.

  Jack walks into the bedroom at that moment. “What’s got you laughing?” He drops what looks like clothes on my bed and comes up behind me. Wrapping his arms around me, he presses a kiss to the side of my neck.

  “Just thinking that I’m glad I am not a guy.”

  His eyes meet mine in the mirror, and a smile lifts his lips. “Got to say, I’m glad that you’re not a guy too.” He kisses my neck again and then releases me. “I made coffee,” he tells me. “I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat, so I made eggs with some bacon and pancakes.”

  “I have bacon? And pancake mix?”

  “Nope.” He grins before disappearing into the bathroom. “But I did. I ran over to my apartment and grabbed the stuff. Feel free to start without me. I’ll be quick in the shower.”

  I walk out of my bedroom into the living room to see breakfast laid out over the countertop, waiting for me.

  I can’t remember the last time that a guy I slept with made breakfast for me … which is probably because it was never.

  The last time I actually had breakfast made for me was when my adoptive mom was still alive. Sadness pierces my chest at the thought. She always loved to make breakfast in the morning, and Dad and I enjoyed eating what she’d made. Cole, not so much. He’s never been a morning person. More of an elusive night owl.

  I walk over to the counter, seeing Eleven in the kitchen, eating some kitty food out of a little bowl that Jack must have brought over from his place.

  “Morning, cutie.” I bend down to pet her, stroking her back, but she’s too busy eating to care about me.

  I seat myself on one of the two stools I have at my counter. Even though the food looks and smells delicious, I decide to wait for Jack.

  I want to eat this breakfast with him.

  While I wait, I pour out the coffee into two mugs that Jack put out for us.

  I add creamer and sugar to mine and take a sip.

  He makes damn good coffee.

  I could keep him just for that fact alone.

  My eyes drift over to the section of the kitchen counter where Jack fucked me last night.

  My whole body heats from just the memory alone.

  Sex with Jack is everything I thought it would be and more.

  But now that the night is over with, I’m not really sure where we go from here.

  I know I shouldn’t continue seeing Jack.

  But I have proven that when it comes to him, I have zero self-control.

  Jack appears from my bedr
oom, freshly showered. His hair is still damp, and he’s wearing a clean T-shirt and jeans. Those must be the clothes he put on my bed. He must have brought them back from his apartment when he went over there.

  His feet are bare. I can’t help but look at them as he walks over to me.

  He has nice feet for a man.

  And there is nothing sexier than a man in jeans and bare feet.

  He drags out the stool from next to me and sits on it.

  Then, he cups the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss.

  He softly brushes his lips over mine. There is none of the roughness from last night. Just the tender sweep of his lips over mine and the gentle sweep of his tongue in my mouth.

  “Needed that,” he tells me, pulling back to look in my eyes.

  “What?”

  “To kiss you.”

  “You kissed me a few minutes ago.” I smile.

  “Pretty girl, I could kiss you every second of the day, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

  Warmth collects in my chest. I’m pretty sure I’ve got a goofy smile on my face and cartoon hearts in my eyes right now.

  Trying to regain some control of myself, I pull back and clear my throat. “I poured you a coffee,” I tell him.

  “Thank you.” He picks it up, and without adding anything to it, he takes a sip.

  “Thank you for the food,” I tell him. “It smells amazing.”

  “Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells.” He grins.

  We eat together, chatting about small stuff.

  Jack tells me that his deadline for submission to his publisher is looming close, so he needs to really get moving with his book. He’s a little behind.

  I ask him about the book, and he tells me about the storyline.

  It’s about a man who returns home after his father is found murdered. He and his father didn’t get along. His father was physically abusive to him throughout his whole childhood. He left there as soon as he could. While the main character is back in his childhood town, arranging details for his father’s funeral, the fingers of accusation start to point his way even though he wasn’t even in the state at the time. But evidence starts cropping up, making it seem as though he were there, to the point that he starts to doubt his own sanity and wonders if he was actually there and if he did murder his father.