by Lucy Gage
“You smell amazing,” he growls into the coarse hair surrounding my cock. My heart rate picks up, unable to remember the last time anyone was this into me—physically or otherwise. He drags his tongue up my length, like he’s licking a fucking lollipop. And the sounds he’s making? It’s as if I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted. I could come from the noises alone. That’s how worked up I am.
My head hits the wall of the elevator as I arch my hips, trying to push my dick into his waiting mouth. Show him that I want more. That I need more. “God, I want to fuck your mouth.” The words come out in a strangled groan and he finally takes pity on me, lips parting to allow me inside. Jesus, he’s warm and wet, and it’s so fucking good. He moans, or maybe he’s humming, I can’t be sure. Because I’m delirious. With want—with desire—with a primal need to mark him. To claim him as my own. It’s a crazy thought, I know. But it doesn’t last long. That thought and any others disintegrate as his tongue works me over, hands latching onto the backs of my thighs as he sucks me off. I hiss out a breath as my cock slides in and out of his mouth. “Oh, yeah. Like that,” I whisper, my breathing erratic, hands seeking purchase and finding it in his broad shoulders.
Typically, I don’t let someone else take charge like this. But with Cain, I’m more than happy to hand over the reins. He certainly knows what the fuck he’s doing. Especially when he releases my cock and licks a wet path to my balls. Then his hands begin to roam, one coming around to roll them in his warm palm, the other jerking me off. My limbs tremble with a fierce need to come. And when the smell of sex and sweat reaches my nostrils, it overloads my senses, forcing a tingle to work its way up from the base of my spine.
“Come down my throat, Dash,” he commands, before his mouth clamps down on my dick.
And that’s all I hear before my vision clouds and a shiver rolls through my body. Cain reaches around to grab my ass, bringing me closer, my cock sinking deeper into his wet mouth. It pushes me over the brink until I’m coming hard. Until the moans leaving my throat are barely recognizable as my own. Loud and reckless. Stripped bare by the intensity of my orgasm. Unaware of anything in this moment but my own pleasure.
“You okay?”
I blink as Cain comes into focus again, his fingers pushing sweaty strands of hair from my face. “I would venture to say I’m more than okay.”
“Good.” He smiles as my gaze sails down to his lips. “Yeah, I want to kiss you, too.”
My stare is heavier than it should be and I wonder if he feels it. I should probably shut my mouth since it tends to get me in trouble. For some reason, though, I can’t. “I like you.”
His mouth edges into a teasing smile. “I would hope so since you just had your dick in my mouth.”
I laugh. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“Tell me what?” he asks, sucking on my lower lip and making it hard to string a sentence together.
“Some…crazy shit happens on elevators.”
Cain steps back, reaching behind him to grip the hem of his shirt and lift it up and over his head. He tosses it to the floor while my mouth hangs open. Not many things leave me speechless. But seeing Cain shirtless, all those ridges and dips of hard muscle, my breath catches in my throat and desire tears through me. It burns hot and heavy in my lungs and the only thing I want to do is pray this feeling never goes away. “Crazy, huh?”
Jesus, his chest is a wall of lean muscle that curves down into his waistband. I want to lick a trail from his pecs to his cock. Maybe we should find a bed, after all.
“Oh, yeah.”
He flicks the button on his jeans and my dick jumps back to life. “You know what they used to call me in college?” I shake my head, unable to concentrate on his words as he unzips his fly. “Cain Not-That-Crazy Hartwell.” His eyes flash with mischief. “But that was then.”
I snort out a laugh. “You’re insane.”
He kicks off his sneakers, then his jeans, leaving him gloriously naked. “And you have too many clothes on.”
I peer around him to the elevator doors, realizing I’m about to feed him a line of bullshit. Because it’s fun. And Cain makes me want to shed my bitter skin and opt for something better. A lighter version of myself. “You know that any minute security could show up.”
“Doubtful. They would’ve been here by now. Besides, aren’t elevators in your wheelhouse?”
“Affinity, Wheelhouse? Who uses words like that?”
His chin lifts in a show of pride. “The guy who won several spelling bees decades ago.”
I shrug off my coat and shirt, then bend down to unlace my boots and pull off my jeans and boxers. “Decades ago I flunked English,” I admit, chuckling.
“We all have our talents.”
“We do,” I agree as I stand, taking my cock in my hand and giving it a couple of hard tugs. “Face the wall, Cain,” I grin, “I’d like to show you one of mine.” He doesn’t hesitate, and I love the balance of power between us. I think I might have met my match. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but it feels good for a change.
“Hey, Dash?” Cain looks over his shoulder, blue eyes shining, mouth tipped up into a breathtaking smile.
“Yeah?”
“I like you, too.” He winks, and my heart hammers in my chest. “Merry Christmas.”
And I smile. Because for the first time in as long as I can remember—it just might be.
Dash: corner of Lexington and 48th. should be done by 6ish
My grin is wide as I stare at his text. I’m about to type a response when an idea hits me and I change direction.
Me: okay, sounds good. come by after. I’ll be waiting with an open mouth
Dash: stop. I have to work. don’t make dick jokes. I can’t afford to walk around here with a hard-on all day
Me: wait, let me get a visual on that
Dash: Cain…
Me: Dash…
Dash: I’ll see you later
Me: oh, you definitely will
Dash: you’re a piece of work, you know that?
Me: I think you mean a piece of ass, don’t you?
Dash: LOL
I toss my phone onto the chair, unable to suppress a smile. Although I never can when it comes to Dash. Dash. Crazy to think it’s been six months since we met on that cold night back in December. Sometimes, I feel like it was meant to be. Correction—most times. And I know if he heard me say that, the bitter, skeptical side of him would shake his head and roll his eyes. But deep down, he knows it’s true.
I’ll admit, at first, I wasn’t sure what to make of him. But he grew on me, rather quickly if I’m honest. And we balance each other out. My wit with his skepticism. It just—works. And when something falls into place, we don’t always have to question it. We can just go with it. Choose to be happy. And that’s what we’ve done.
I glance around the small studio apartment I rent in Soho. Eight hundred square feet of absolute perfection. My family would think I was crazy if they heard me say that. But I speak the truth. It’s definitely nothing to write home about, and that’s what I love most. There’s no high-end furniture, no million dollar artwork on the walls, no mahogany tables that seat twenty-five. Just a few Ikea pieces Dash helped me pick out, and a king-sized bed that takes up half the apartment. Because, hey, you gotta have priorities.
My feet take me over to the bed in a few short strides. I finger the sheets, askew after last night’s activities, and smile.
“Put your dick inside of me, Dash.” The lubed tip of his cock slid back and forth along my crack and drove me insane with want, so much so that I wasn’t beyond begging at this point. “You’re driving me crazy and I need it now.”
His lips dragged along my back, licking the salt from my skin. Taking his sweet time. I was hot all over, waiting for him to fuck me. He did this on purpose. He liked to wait until I was panting and desperate for his cock before he shoved it inside of me.
“Spread your legs wider, baby
,” he whispered, lips brushing my ear and making me shiver. “God, I want to fuck you so hard.” His words came out in a pant, heavy breath blowing warm against my sweaty skin. Then finally, the thick head of his cock breached my hole and my eyes drifted shut.
“Oh, God,” I groaned, desperate for every inch of him as he pushed inside to where I needed him most. My ass muscles clenched, holding him, gripping him, and I grunted in satisfaction.
“You’re so fucking snug. So tight for me.” Jesus. I could feel his cock, swollen and throbbing. I loved how he filled me up. And then he started to move. Thrusting his cock in and out of my ass. Stretching me, owning me. Pushing my thighs further apart, knowing how much I enjoyed it when he fucked me deep, when I could feel him far beyond that ring of muscle. “Fuck, yes, squeeze my cock.”
His words, dirty and breathy were my undoing. I reached for my dick, jerking it while he fucked me hard and fast. “Dash,” I moaned, my body quivering as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me. It was too fast, but it was also too good, and I couldn’t hold back.
“Ah, fuck,” he growled, following behind, his dick jerking once, twice, three times, before he collapsed on top of me, pressing my body into the bed. For long minutes we were silent, our labored breathing the only sound in the quiet room. “God, that was good,” he finally said when he was able to speak.
“Yeah, it was. It always is.”
I felt his smile against my shoulder. He was doing a lot more of that, smiling that is, with each passing day. And I hoped maybe I had something to do with it.
The buzz of my phone brings me back and I retrieve it from the chair, swiping a finger across the screen.
Dash: I’m in the mood for cake today you?
Me: really?
Dash: yeah, just throwing it out there. chocolate with buttercream frosting and white chocolate mousse
Me: very specific. you’ve obviously given this a lot of thought
Dash: …
Me: duly noted. see you later
Dash’s subtle way of reminding me it’s his birthday. Not that I could forget. I’ve had this day planned for the past month. And while he has repeatedly told me he doesn’t enjoy his birthday, his protesting has done nothing but caught my attention. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sensitive to the fact that his asshole parents hung him out to dry (his words not mine), but that’s all the more reason to make this day unforgettable. Because it’s an important one.
In my family, birthday celebrations are epic. And I intend to make sure that Dash’s is one he’ll never forget.
I told Dash to text me when he was headed to the elevator. Luckily, he didn’t seem suspicious. Now, as I stand against the column, waiting for the doors to open, my lips turn up of their own volition. For the longest time, he thought my aversion to elevators was out of fear. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. I always took the stairs because I like to keep my body in constant motion, and in my opinion, the elevator is the lazy way to travel. Of course, since I met Dash, I might have had a slight change in opinion.
The ding signals the arrival of the elevator and my heartbeat sails out of control. Nervous excitement barrels through me as the doors open, and I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried. Dash is leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest—and he’s alone.
Surprise crinkles the corner of his eyes and lights his smile. He opens his mouth to speak, but seems too stunned to get the words out. I take two steps into the car and slap a hand over the emergency stop button. Then I turn my heated gaze his way, letting my eyes skim down his body, agonizingly slow, and land on his dick, already hard and ready for me.
As I scroll back up, his eyes lock on mine, and he grins. “Going down?”
“Oh, yeah.”
THE END
Beth Michele is a bestselling author of M/F and M/M Contemporary Romance who writes sweet, funny, and sexy (okay, dirty) stories with heart...and snark. She can often be spotted hiding out with her laptop or kindle somewhere quiet, preferably on a bench overlooking the ocean. Swedish Fish and Twizzlers are her jam, and she makes a mean hot chocolate every day of the year.
Website: http://www.bethmichele.com
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The Naughty List
Copyright © 2017 by Tessa Teevan
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
“Mom, I’ve been thinking,” my twenty-five-year-old daughter, Kalli, said one morning, a week before Christmas and after her helping me with my wrapping.
Instantly, my brow quirked up. Kalli thinking? More like conspiring. She caught my look and rolled her eyes. “Hear me out, Mom.” She paused, took a long sip of coffee, and then gave me a pointed look. “It’s just…Kale getting Lucy pregnant got me to thinking.”
Oh, this should be good. “About what? Your own biological clock? You’re only twenty-five, Kalliope.”
Not to mention, she was wildly in love with her older brother’s best friend.
She frowned, her cheeks flushed with heat. “No. Not me. You. I mean, not your clock. You’re about to be a grandma. But with Kale gone, Kaylie going off to grad. school… I worry about you. You’re young. You’re hot. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
I wanted to laugh, but her words rang true. By the time my ex took off, I was twenty-four with three small children to take care of. I didn’t have time for men. More like I didn’t want to make time for them. But now my oldest was thirty-one, with a baby on the way, whereas my lady bits were most likely covered in cobwebs, dust, and rife with longing.
“I’m hardly young. I’m almost fifty.”
Kalli scoffed. “Mom, with your yoga, diet, and skincare routine, you pass for my older sister. Plus, you’ve always said age is just a number.”
I toyed with the rim of my coffee mug, then glanced up to meet my daughter’s gaze. It was no longer playful. She was serious, and I loved her for worrying about her dear old mom.
“Kalliope, don’t you worry about me. I’ve gone two decades without a man. What’s another two?”
The words tumbled out quickly, but my mouth was sour after I’d spoken them. The truth was, I was lonely.
“You deserve to be happy, Mom. You deserve to spend out your days living passionately with the love of your life. I know it could be scary, but sometimes, you just have to take a leap off the bridge and trust that there will be someone at the bottom, just waiting to catch you in his strong arms.” She sighed wistfully at the thought.
“I could say the same to you about Xavier.”
Instant heat flushed her cheeks. She dipped her head and mumbled, “Xavier’s off limits.”
Before I could respond, she perked up and changed subjects. “Are you still going to that wine tasting tonight?”
I sighed, taking a sip of my coffee and while trying to make up an excuse to skip the outing. My best friend, Anna, was supposed to go with me, but at the last minute had canceled due to her granddaughter’s illness. But screw it. I could go myself and still have fine.
“Yes, even though Anna can’t go, I’ll still attend,” I told Kalli, and she beamed.
“Take this,” she said, handing me a card. “Kale gave this to you for your birthday months ago, and you still haven’t cashed it in. Go to the spa, get a massage, a pedicure, whatever you want. And then tonight you’re pu
tting on a little black dress, letting your hair down, and having fun.”
I wanted to protest. I’d rather curl up on a beach chair and read a good book while listening to the sound of the waves. It may have been December, but nothing would keep me from being outdoors.
But Kalli was right. I needed to get out. I needed passion. I needed intimacy. I needed something.
After Kalli had said her peace, I went to my bedroom and sat at my vanity, staring into the mirror. I wasn’t sure I even actually saw myself. I saw a woman who was exceedingly lonely. Laugh lines that showed a happy life, but the more I stared, her eyes were empty. I loved my kids. I loved my life. But now I was an empty-nester and had nothing fulfilling in my life. I felt empty. Lonely.
That’s how, only an hour later, I found myself checking into the spa. I took Kale’s gift and checked in with a pretty receptionist who assured me I wouldn’t be disappointed with their services. She even tossed a wink in as she led me to a private room.
I was just slipping on my robe when the door opened, and a man stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. We both froze at the sight of each other. Me, because he was the tallest, most breathtaking man I’d ever seen. He had to be at least six foot four, with lean muscles showcased underneath a tight grey t-shirt. His hair was a mussy blond, but it was his eyes that stood out the most. Piercing blue, so pale the light in the room reflected off them.
He was also the last man I’d ever slept with. Fifteen years ago, and had never expected to see him again.
He blinked twice, then swallowed hard. That’s when I realized he was frozen because my robe was untied. I glanced down and saw my entire forty-nine-year-old body was on display for him.
“God, Mrs. Montgomery, I’m… well I’d like to say I’m sorry, but…wow,” he muttered, and I caught the hint of his sexy accent as his eyes shamefully perused my body.