by W. Winters
“Nothing,” I answer him immediately, ignoring the voice and reaching down for my bag.
“I knew it,” he says with a cocky grin. “I knew there was literally nothing going on in there.”
“Fucking asshole,” I mutter as my smile broadens. I feel naturally at ease around him … happy even. And that’s dangerous. His rough chuckle makes my entire body heat. Some places more than others.
“I can tell you what I was thinking,” he says as he leans closer, so close that I get a hint of his cologne. It’s clean and crisp, but with a hint of woodsy musk that makes me lean in too.
“I bet I already know exactly what you were thinking,” I immediately retort, which only makes him scratch the stubble on his jaw, his smile ever present.
“What do you think?” he asks me, and I arch a brow to admonish him.
“Thoughts like that don’t belong in the classroom.”
“Where else are we going to find a desk?” he asks me, and I can’t help how my thighs clench and my chest and cheeks warm with a slow, heated blush.
I always have a comeback but not this time.
“So, you want to go out?”
“No.” I laugh off his suggestion. “Do you want to go out?”
“I could go out,” he answers effortlessly. Like it doesn’t bother him in the least.
“I don’t know,” I tell him, feeling that unease from earlier crawling back into my skin. I forget why I’m really here when I’m with him and I can’t let that happen.
“You want a boyfriend or something?” Dean asks me, and I scoff. “What?” he says. “I don’t know what the hell you want.”
“Neither do I.” I answer him with the most honesty I’ve spoken since I laid eyes on him and turn my back to leave.
“The hell you don’t. You said you wanted me,” he persists. There’s a certain tone in his voice and a flicker of something in his eyes that I recognize. It’s a pain I know all too well. I hate it. I want to take it away and with Dean it’d be easy. He wants me, and I want him. There’s so much more at stake, though.
A slow prickle of ice settles along my skin as I think about what’s going to happen. I shouldn’t lead him on like this. It’s wrong.
But I’ve been fucked up for a while now, and he’s just so tempting.
“You know I do,” I tell him, turning around to face him after zipping up my bookbag. My lower back grazes it as my ass hits the desk. “I’d love for you to fuck me raw. Right here on this desk.” I reach behind me to grip it and then nod my head to the side and add, “Or against the wall maybe.”
His expression darkens with lust. I watch as his eyes widen with amusement at first, but even so, his pupils dilate with desire. Every second of silence is another degree of heat added between us.
I lean closer to him, feeling the tension rise as he adjusts his cock in his pants. His eyes don’t move from my lips as I whisper, “I imagine it all the time.” My fingertips play at the buttons on his shirt. Seeking consent, all the while luring him in.
“I bet you do too,” I tell him, staring into his dark eyes and willing him to picture exactly what I’ve been dreaming about. “It would be bad for me, though. You’ll fuck me then leave.” At the last thought, my hands fall to my side. That’s not the reason why, but I’m not above using the logic to keep him away.
It takes him a moment to process my confession. Like he’s paralyzed from what I’ve done to him, and that gives me a thrill I can’t put into words.
“So you do want a boyfriend?” he manages to say, and I’m equal parts amused and exasperated. The lies make the hole I’m digging for myself that much deeper.
“Look, Dean.” I start to tell him it’s not going to happen. I swear I had every intention of cutting him off. But there’s a look in his eyes that makes my heart still just a beat too long. A look that heats the small space between us. A look that I’m addicted to.
“Yeah? I’m listening,” Dean says as he takes a half step closer, decreasing the distance between us. He towers over me, his broad shoulders blocking out everything else. I’m caught in his gaze, caught in the moment.
I’ll blame it all on that.
“If you want to fuck me, you should just show up at my house,” I tell him and slip the ripped piece of paper in his hand.
The paper I’ve been scribbling on all class long.
The paper with my address on it.
12
Dean
I don’t know how I wound up outside of Allie’s house with that scrap of paper in my pocket. It’s part of a cute little row of houses off the edge of campus with white picket fences and a one-way street.
The only excuse I’ve got for showing up the moment my last class was over, is that I didn’t have any blood my brain could use. It’s all in my dick and that’s the reason I ended up here, pushing the doorbell and acting like a damn puppy.
She said jump and I fucking jumped. But it’s for pussy, so I can’t beat myself up too much.
I shrug my shoulders to readjust my jacket as the sound of her walking through the house greets me from the other side of the door. There’s a sheer curtain on the window and Allie pulls it back to look at me.
I only get a glimpse, but the look of surprise is something that makes me rethink what the hell I’m doing.
Until the door unlocks with a loud click and Allie opens it wide.
Any thoughts of turning around vanish. Her blouse hangs low and nearly covers up the cutoff jean shorts. It’s thin and almost transparent, a button-down white number that would look professional with slacks.
But in those shorts and a burgundy bra, it’s downright sinful.
“Dean,” she says my name and then leans into the door, showing off the curve of her waist as she juts out her hip. “I wasn’t expecting you, to be honest.”
“I wasn’t sure I was going to come either, but I thought you might want some company,” I tell her and readjust my dick in my jeans. She knows what I want, and I have no intention of hiding it.
I love how she blushes just slightly, moving a finger to her lower lip as she gives me this shy smile that doesn’t seem right on my Allie Cat.
“I guess I could use some,” she says and moves aside to let me in, although the way she eyes me is more like a hunter and not the prey. Like she’s the one in control here.
She needs a little lesson.
“I want your mouth first,” I tell her as she closes the door. She’s quiet as she turns around, not answering me as I let my jacket slide off my shoulders and lay it on the back of a dining room chair.
The first floor of her place is small; a set of stairs to my left, an eat-in kitchen on the right and a cozy living room with a sofa. Right in front of us are a love seat and a TV stand. The sunshine filtering through the open blinds of her sliding doors is the only light in the place. I take a quick look around, wondering what she was up to before I came in, but she distracts me, letting out a small hum of appreciation.
“Is that so?” she asks, and I don’t answer her. There’s a teasing lilt in her voice that drives me crazy. It’s a hint that she can take more. It suggests I’m not a man who can handle her.
What’s more? She’s letting me get away with pushing her. And I fucking love it. It only makes me want to push her harder.
She follows me in and her eyes roam down my body as I take off my shirt, tossing it on top of my jacket. I keep walking, moving to the window to shut the blinds and darkening the small living room. I want the lights on, though. I need to see this. Every. Fucking. Bit of it.
“Yeah, mouth and then your cunt,” I tell her confidently, flicking on a light switch and watching how she stalks toward me, those wide hips rocking back and forth and taunting me. My dick gets harder just watching her.
“You going to keep teasing me, Allie Cat?” I love how her breathing is coming out harder. A smirk kicks up my lips and then I lick them, slowly. Her eyes follow my movement and a shiver runs down her body. “I know you will. You l
ove teasing me,” I tell her with confidence and her gaze meets mine, narrowing as she decides what she wants to admit.
“Is that so?” she asks me in a flirtatious voice and takes a step back as I take one forward. The half smile widens.
“No more,” I say and keep my tone stern. “You can tease me again tomorrow, but right now I’m done playing.” My heart hammers hard in my chest, knowing how aggressive I’m being. But Allie’s a woman who wants to be pushed.
“Tell me you don’t want me right now,” I offer her. “Tell me you don’t want me to sink deep into you and fuck you how you deserve to be fucked, and I’ll leave.”
My heart spasms, hating that I’ve given her an out. But getting her enthusiastic consent first is key. I’m not really worried that she’ll make me leave, though. I know Allie; I know what she wants, and I can give it to her better than any other man.
“I’m not a liar, Dean,” she says quietly, and I watch as she catches her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah, I do.”
“Say it.”
“I want you. I want every inch of you.”
“Good,” I say and start to lean forward, to kiss those plump lips of hers, but she surprises me, dropping to her knees.
She doesn’t say anything as she unzips my pants and I let her lead for now.
A little give, and a little take.
Her small hands pull my jeans down in a single tug and my thick cock juts out right in front of her face. A small gasp slips from her lips and I love how her eyes widen. I stroke my dick once, rubbing the precum already leaking out over the head.
Before I can take away my hand, she gives the head a quick lick, her tongue slipping along the slit and making me hiss.
Her eyes flash to mine as she wraps her lips around the head of my cock and sucks.
I don’t hold back the groan from deep in the back of my throat. She deserves to know just how good she makes me feel. My hands fist her hair as she sucks me down, hollowing her cheeks and working my dick like a pro.
It’s mesmerizing to watch her worshipping my cock with that sassy mouth of hers. I’ve thought about it every fucking night since I first saw her.
About time I have her right where I want her. I try to ignore the thoughts running through my head. The ones telling me this is a one-time thing. I already know I want more, and I refuse to let her deny me when this is through.
She moans around my cock and it sends a tingle up my spine. Fuck, she’s even better than I thought she’d be.
I let her have her fun for a minute and then I shove myself to the back of her throat. Again, and again, and again. “Fuck,” I groan. My blunt nails dig into the back of her head as my toes curl and my eyes shut tight. She feels too fucking good. “I’m going to cum just from your mouth,” I barely get out through my clenched teeth.
She continues like she didn’t hear me, swallowing me down and trying to take more of my length. I have to pull out before I lose it. I’m not ready to be done just yet. My breath leaves me as she pants, quickly trying to catch her breath. I stare down at her and I’m in awe of her eagerness for more. Her lips are swollen and her eyes wide and glassy.
She’s fucking perfect. A greedy little slut just for me.
She opens her mouth wider and leans forward as I stroke my cock once, running my palm over the head. The air is chilly compared to her hot mouth, but I can’t let her suck me off anymore. If I do, it’ll all be over too soon. I didn’t come here for a blowjob. I want more from her.
“Get up,” I tell her sternly as if she doesn’t have me on the edge of coming undone. She reacts immediately, desperate to please me and I can’t help but notice how her upper thighs clench and she whimpers softly.
I’m not careful as I rip open her shirt, forcing a button to pop off and fall to the floor. Her gasp reminds me to keep a straight face. I’m in control, I tell myself as I unclasp her bra. It dangles in front of her, laying across her torso as the straps are caught in her sleeves. But her full breasts stand at attention, her pale pink nipples pebbling and making my mouth water. She stands like a mannequin, letting me almost violently undress her.
My dick twitches when I run the back of my hands across her hardened peaks. My tongue grazes across my lower lip before I dip down and take her left breast into my mouth. Sucking and swirling my tongue around her sensitive bud.
She reacts exactly how I want, spearing her hands through my hair and arching her back. Her soft, strangled moans of pleasure are music to my ears.
I release her nipple from my mouth with a loud pop and take my time playing with the other one, pinching it between my thumb and forefinger before sucking it into my mouth. I bite down just slightly, and she hisses. Not holding back my smile with my teeth still clamped, I pull back again and watch her face as I do. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth forms a perfect O. The same mouth that just sucked me off like that’s what it was made to do.
When I release her, I take a step back and I miss her instantly. Her breathing is shallow as her hands move to the button on her shorts but she hesitates, waiting for me to give her permission.
I let her stand there, looking at me and dying for her own release as I stroke myself. The sight of her is everything to me. I want a fucking photograph so I can remember this moment forever.
Her hair already looks like she’s just been fucked. Her green eyes are dark with desire, and with a torn shirt and her gorgeous breasts bared, she’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
“I don’t know if I want the shirt on while I fuck you or not,” I say out loud although it’s more of a thought and not a question. More of a tease for her than anything else.
She shifts her weight and stands there patiently, waiting for my decision. I stroke my dick again and her eyes instantly dart down to watch. Still, she’s quiet. Good girl.
“Take it off, all of it, and bend over,” I tell her and nod to the armrest of the sofa. She obeys but undresses slowly, letting each garment fall to the floor as I step out of my jeans.
The second I slip inside of her, I know I’m fucked.
I’ll need more than tonight. More of her. She feels too fucking good.
I’m not gentle with her. I love how her face presses into the cushion. How she doesn’t hold back the screams as I pound into her all the way to the hilt on the first stroke.
The sounds of wet flesh smacking together mixed with her cries of want make me fuck her harder. My balls slam against her clit over and over as I push into her as deep as I can with each thrust.
Her nails scratch on the fabric as she screams out my name and it’s all I can take.
Her pussy spasms and I empty myself inside of her.
I can’t breathe as I collapse on top of her, bracing my weight with my forearms and kissing her upper back and shoulders with soft, open-mouth kisses that make her shudder again.
I let the tip of my nose glide along her back, smelling her sweet scent as I give her one last kiss.
After I catch my breath, still buried inside of her I say, “I told you that you wanted me.”
She tosses her hair over her shoulder to look back at me, her ass still up and my cum leaking from her pretty pink pussy. A soft moan leaves her, making her chest rise and fall before she replies, “Pretty sure you’re the one who was dying for this, Dean.”
13
Allison
One-night stands are easy.
I come, and I go. I smirk at the thought. They make me feel better for a while and then when I want more, I find someone else. I’m safe and always use protection; everything always happens on my terms too. It’s always easy that way.
But he isn’t a one-night stand. He’s not one of the guys I’d go pick up at the back of O’Malley’s. A man whose face I’d never see again. I’ve had my share. I’ve wasted so many nights waiting to be taken back to a shitty motel or fucked against the side of a car.
I loved each and every one. Because they made me feel better in some fucked-up way.
I always k
new I could leave them behind me and walk away like nothing had happened.
Dean will be right in my path after tonight. I can’t get away from him. I can’t say goodbye and never see him again. Worse, I let it happen.
I should have known better than to have Dean come here. It’s a rule: never at my place. I don’t break my rules. Never. My back teeth grind as I remember my slipup. Well, two of them. I didn’t even make him wear a rubber. The thought should anger me but instead it makes me feel deliciously dirty. I let myself get carried away. I should have thought it out more. I shouldn’t be so damn reckless.
The bathroom light switches off and he appears in all his glory in the doorway. Stark naked with chiseled abs and his thick cock still at half-mast.
I can see why he’s so fucking conceited now.
He lazily scratches the back of his head as he stalks toward me, not at all trying to cover up any part of his body. I’ve slipped my shorts back on already and I’m busy pulling up a bra strap when he asks, “What are you doing?”
“What’s it look like?” I answer him with a side-eye and bend down to pick up my shirt. Which is torn beyond any hope of repair. The memory makes my pussy clench and the sweet ache only makes me want Dean again. “Well, I guess this is trash now,” I say although it comes out light and humorous more than anything else.
I can feel how my body reacts to his. It’s innate. It’s clear from the way I peek at him through my lashes, the way the heat creeps up into my cheeks and even how my breathing is attuned to his.
Like prey to a hunter … or vice versa.
With him, it’s dangerous because I desperately want to be the prey.
His face scrunches in sympathy. “Sorry about that,” he says, taking the shirt from my hands and letting his strong fingers brush against mine. They’re rough to the touch and send sparks of want through me, even as the soreness between my thighs intensifies by the second. Dean’s damn good at what he does. I’ll give him that.