by Lindsey Hart
“Your table just insulted me!”
“It didn’t. I promise. It’s just old. It was my grandfather’s. My mom just lent it to me when I bought the house a few years ago. I’ve had to take care of it. That’s why there’s a tablecloth on it.”
“So, you were going to—to—do that on your mom’s table?”
John shuts his eyes. It looks like he’s in pain. “Please don’t bring my mother into this,” he groans.
I tighten my hands on his shoulders. I can feel his very hard, very large pickle throbbing against the inside of my thigh. He opens his eyes and glances around the kitchen. Our eyes both fix on the counter. He moves fast, holding me with one arm while he sweeps pots and pans into the sink. He sets me down hard, right at the edge. My dress is already pushed up past my hips, exposing the black lace panties I have on. Okay, so I might have planned for this to happen, just like I wore my only other good pair of underwear yesterday. The rest of my panties are so granny, it’s embarrassing.
John trails his hand up my leg, but I feel like I’ve been extremely repressed since his office, and I shake my head wildly. “No,” I pant. “Not your hand. I don’t want your hand. I mean, I do, but I—I want something else.”
“Right.”
“I wasn’t leaving anything to chance.” My voice is throaty and hoarse. “There’s a box of condoms in my purse. By the front door.”
He nods and untangles himself from me. I think John sets a record for how fast he gets to the front door, but he takes forever to come back. It’s radio silence in the kitchen, and now I’m not just flushed and horny. I’m also worried. Did he decide he didn’t want to do this after all and ditch?
I hop off the counter, pulling my dress back down very self-consciously. Why did I let Rin and Aria talk me into this? It’s a terrible idea. The whole thing. Now I’m going to have to see him at work. There is no way I’m going to live this down.
I walk quietly into the living room, ready to grab up my things and leave, but I find John standing by my purse, an odd look on his face. It’s somewhere between confusion and amusement. He holds up the box of condoms.
“Is this really necessary?”
“I—well—I think so. I didn’t want to not have one again.”
“That incident alone should prove to you that I don’t do this very often. I didn’t have a condom in my back pocket or my wallet or stashed in my desk.”
“Whatever.” His lips are turned up at the corners, and I can tell he’s not mad. I’m embarrassed about how I reacted last night. That was bad. I’ve never done anything like that in my life. “I’m sorry I threw water at you.”
“It could have been worse. You could have slammed a door in my face again.”
“Very funny,” I pout. “Are you going to open that freaking box or not?”
“It’s industrial-sized.” He’s grinning now, as he points out the obvious.
“Well, I…” I stammer while staring at the box. There are a hundred condoms in there. “It was the best deal out of everything there.” I now realize how dumb that sounds. I have lots of money, shares in my parent’s company, a good job, a nice house that I basically bought as an investment, and a new car. I guess it doesn’t matter. You can be rich and still be a value shopper, can’t you?
“How many times were you planning on doing it? After the fifth or sixth or even the tenth time, I’m sure it’s going to start chaffing. I heard you shouldn’t double them up either, so—”
“You’re the worst!”
“Oh, really? I think your body has something else to say about that.”
It does. We move fast. I launch myself at him. I don’t so much knock him down as he actually lets me. He still has the box of condoms in his hand. The living room blinds are closed, and we’re not in the line of any windows anyway, so I start tearing at his t-shirt. He works it over his head, then claims my mouth, kissing me breathless. Who says guys can’t multitask? John quickly proves me—and all the other doubters—wrong on that front. He strips my dress away, then deftly removes my bra. I’m still fumbling with his jeans, but he helps me with those too. I quickly peel away my panties, and he tears off his boxers.
We’re now naked in the middle of his living room, both of us breathing hard, the box of a hundred condoms tangled up in the pile of our clothes. We both look at it at the same time. I start laughing. John laughs too. I love the sound of his laugh. It’s genuine and deep and straight from his belly. He gets to the box first. He tears it open and pulls out a whole strip of condoms. When he holds it up and gives me another questioning look, I burst into giggles again.
He reaches for me, and silences me with a kiss so long and deep that I just about pass out from lack of oxygen. It would have been totally worth it if I had.
I end up on top, and when I come up for air, I open my eyes in disbelief that I just stripped John’s clothes away and didn’t even admire what was below. I’ve been thinking about it for days, and now I was in such a freaking hurry.
“We should slow down.” My voice is as rough as my breathing.
“If you want to,” John winks at me. “You can give the instructions. I’ll prove to you that I haven’t had much practice.”
“Stop,” I protest, holding up my hand. “Please. Never bug me about this again. I won’t live it down.”
“Okay.” His smile is too easy, and I know why. He’s focused on his hand trailing over my stomach and down between my legs. He sweeps a finger over my perfectly smooth sex and teases my folds. I realize how slick I am when his finger dips into me easily.
I can’t help it. I might be on top, but my pelvis still arches, driving my hips into his hand. I throw back my head and let him work his magic. I still haven’t looked at him!
His finger glides over to my clit, and when he circles it, I forget all about opening my eyes. I do start rocking my hips a little wildly and a whole lot wantonly into his hand. I want to grind all over him. I want him to keep pushing on my clit, to keep working his fingers like he’s doing. I want to come all over his hand.
God, those are dirty thoughts! I’ve never actually thought things like that before. I’ve never been so freaking turned on either. It feels like my entire body is on fire.
John drags me back down to his lips. He kisses me hard, working my tongue with his while he works other things with his fingers. He keeps grazing my clit, and I’m getting wild—rocking and driving into his hand. Just when I think I can hold out, he rubs my clit even harder, circling it with the rough pad of his thumb as he nips my bottom lip with his teeth.
That’s all it takes to send me straight over the edge. As I fly off and tumble, and probably scream and moan a few choice things, I think about two things. I still haven’t looked at John! I’d really like an eyeful of all that muscly goodness I know is there. I’d like to see if he does indeed have a ten pack, and I’d like to turn him over and check to see if his buns are really made of titanium. I’d also really like him to teach me that trick he just did with his fingers. I’ve never been able to come that fast before. My hand, in comparison, is woefully lacking in some glaringly obvious ways.
CHAPTER 13
John
A flood of wetness coats my hand after Cassie comes on my fingers. My balls are about ready to explode. I think I’m going to set the record for the fastest time to come. As in, it might happen now, which would be an embarrassing tragedy of epic proportions, so I start giving my dick some active threats about what will happen if it does not obey my commands.
I’ll punch you. I swear, I will. I’ll stick you down the garbage disposal, and we’ll see how smart you are then. I’ll punish you by forever condemning you to a life of celibacy.
My dick, unsurprisingly, has other ideas. No, you won’t. You won’t punch me because having a punched dick will be a sad state of affairs for you. You will never stick me into something with actual knives, let alone ones that move. Having a smartass dick is still better than having no dick at all. And celibacy? We both know it’s not
like I’ve seen any action lately, so that’s hardly a threat.
“J-John?” Cassie opens her eyes and stammers my name. She lets her gaze roam over me, taking in every single inch. I don’t think she gave herself the chance to look before, and it’s more than a little gratifying to watch her eyes widen and her already rapid breaths quickening to the point of hyperventilation.
My dick likes the attention too. In a very obvious way, which is made much more obvious by the fact that I’m not wearing anything.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that.”
“You can go off anytime you like. Preferably next time on my mouth.”
“Holy pickles,” Cassie breathes.
We stare each other down for a second before I literally lunge for the string of condoms. I rip one open so violently that I nearly tear the condom in half. My hands are suddenly trembling. My balls are trembling. Everything is trembling. Cassie vibrates above me. She’s warm. She’s naked. Her perfect breasts with her perfect dark nipples are right in my face.
The condom slips out of my hand and drops on the floor. With a curse, I snatch it up to examine it. It only has a few pieces of dust and hair clinging to it.
“Ewww!” Cassie slaps a hand over her mouth to control her giggle. “I guess that’s why I bought an entire box. If we just had that one, you’d try and convince me to use it anyway, or you’d wash it off or do something disgusting with it to try and salvage it.”
“Do you really think so little of me?”
“Open another one!” Cassie is still quivering.
I do, and this time, I get it in the right spot. Cassie stares at me with wide eyes when I grasp her hips.
“No! I can’t go on top! Not for the first time!”
“Why not?”
“Because the lights are on! And I’m totally naked. What if I make a funny face or—or—what if my boobs like swing into your face?”
“Why would that be a bad thing?”
“No way. You go on top!”
“I’m not going to argue.” She gasps when I spin her over onto the hard floor. It’s not very classy. We should at least hit the couch, or I should carry her to the bed, but it’s kind of hot that we’re on the floor. There’s a certain amount of desperation and neediness to it that is extremely sexy. It’s a first for me.
“Are you alright?”
“Well, my tailbone is digging into the floor now.”
“Okay, let’s get up. Bed it is.”
“No!” She sounds so frantic that I can’t control my goofy grin. “Just do it already.”
“That’s romantic.”
She swivels her hips under me, bringing her sex straight into contact with my dick. That’s all it takes for me to just about explode. Cassie wraps her legs around my hips and twines her hands around my neck. She pulls me to her. I kiss her deeply while I fit myself to her entrance.
Condom aside, entering Cassie is the best and most perfect sensation on the planet. I slide in slowly, savoring the experience, but also trying to keep my shit together and my balls in one piece. She’s tight. Incredibly tight. She’s also warm and so wet. Her hips rise up to meet my first thrust, and I nearly blackout on top of her.
Her hands come apart at my neck, and she digs her fingers into my shoulders as I begin to move inside of her. Her hips grind against me while she takes all of me. I’m not small, and she’s tight, but we fit perfectly. I need to stop kissing her and just breathe beside her ear. I force myself to take slow breaths to get myself under control. Since her ear is right there, I run my tongue along the shell of it and nibble at her lobe. She shudders and arches below me.
Even though Cassie is below me, she’s doing half the work. I’m trying to be slow and gentle, for both our sakes, so this isn’t over right away, but she’s grinding and bucking against me, riding me from the bottom. Her heels dig hard into my ass, and I’m not so sure she was right about it being made of titanium. She whimpers and moans right near my ear, which makes me tremble on top of her.
On my next thrust, Cassie’s back arches off the floor. Her pert nipples thrust straight up into my chest, and her nails scrabble at my shoulder.
I clench down on everything there is to be clenched.
It doesn’t help. My balls are finished. My cock is done obeying my commands. Not even the threat of the garbage disposal is going to do the trick right now.
“Going…to…come,” I grunt out unceremoniously.
Cassie goes rigid, then her nails dig harder into my shoulders, and her heels nearly carve a trench in my ass cheeks. “Please do,” she whispers wickedly right near my ear.
“But you…”
“Have already come. Multiple orgasms are tricky. But we have all night to practice. You know, because I was smart and got the industrial-sized box.”
Oh god. I can’t hold back anymore. This woman is seriously going to be the end of me. Even covered in poop, she was easily still the most gorgeous creature on the planet, and that’s saying something because public poo from a public bathroom is not sexy.
“John, please,” she urges. “Come inside of me.”
I am seriously done now. I thrust madly as if the world is going to end in two seconds, and I want to go out with a bang—bad pun fully and emphatically intended. I try to ease up, so I don’t grind Cassie into the floor. I feel like I don’t just come, I really come. I’ve never had an experience like this—one that was entirely consuming. We talked. We talked during it. We were even a little self-deprecating even though we were so desperate, or at least I was, which, by the way, I know is a little pathetic. I’m okay with being a little pathetic, though, when it comes to Cassie.
I realize then as I’m still coming down from the crazy bliss rocketing through me that everything is different. I’ve never met someone like Cassie. Never. I’ve never felt anything like this.
I just feel like we’re right. Like we fit in all the right ways.
I want to cockpunch myself for real now because I’ve only known her for a few weeks, and I have no right to think like this or feel like this. I should hit the shower and give myself a frigid dousing of cold water and reality. What I can’t do is spout any of that nonsense to her. It would freak her right out. It’s freaking me right out. My dick, I think, is the only thing not freaked out.
I’m still hard and aching and ready for round two.
I slowly ease out of her. Instead of letting me pull away, she pulls me down to her and gives me a scorching kiss.
“John?” she murmurs, oddly sated sounding, considering I’m the one who just came.
“Yeah?”
Her eyes flutter open. God, I love her eyes. They are so beautiful. Dark with gold rims around the irises and lighter brown flecks throughout. Her pupils are blown wide right now, and her lids are heavy, but those irises are still incredible.
“I’m starving now.”
“Me too. Should I order something?”
“No. I think we can manage to make something. Together.”
“I think I’ve done enough damage already.”
“Don’t worry. Practice makes perfect.” She winks at me, rolls away, and gathers up her dress, which she slips over her head, sans bra or panties.
I spread out flat on my back and stare at the ceiling. I can’t smother a pained groan. I’m pretty sure she’s not actually talking about the cooking. But if she is, I’m on board with that too, and I hate cooking. I’m obviously terrible at it. How does she make something I hate sound like it could actually be fun?
CHAPTER 14
Cassie
Even though I was here at about the same time last night, I’m just as nervous tonight. I found a handwritten note on my desk this morning from John, inviting me for a picnic. The note said to be at his house at seven. He didn’t promise dinner this time, which is okay, because I don’t think either of us needs another smoke show in his kitchen.
After our little interlude, we managed to make some sandwiches, and we sat on his cou
ch side by side and watched something on TV. I have no idea what it was because I wasn’t actually watching it at all. I was way too aware of John’s body. His scent. His heat. What we’d just done played over and over in my head, and it was far more interesting than whatever show was flickering in the living room.
John’s note is tucked safely in my purse. I want to laugh at myself for having it there. It’s not that I think I’ll need it to gain entry like a grand ball. It’s more like I have it tucked away there for safekeeping.
John opens the door before I’m even halfway to the door. His smile is huge, bordering on goofy. I don’t think I’ve seen anything more beautiful in my life. I probably have an equally goofy expression pasted on my face too.
“I’m glad you came. You didn’t tell me you were going to.”
“I was pretty sure you were confident enough that I didn’t need to give you an actual answer.”
John’s grin widens. The muscles in his arms bulge as he holds the door open for me. He’s got a grey t-shirt on tonight and another pair of sinfully amazing jeans. They hang just right on his hips. His plain grey cotton tee is doing him some favors as well, seeing as it fits tightly enough to show off how broad and streamline he is at the same time.
He looks good enough to eat. I might have plans along those lines…
“I’m not that confident,” John confesses after I shut the door. I’ve gone with something low key tonight. Skinny jeans, ankle boots, and a floral print blouse that isn’t fancy. John’s eyes sweep over me, and my breath catches when I see the fire burning there.
“You look beautiful,” John says, and I can tell he means it.
My mouth dries up even further. I fixate on a certain spot on the living room floor, and now my heart is beating double time. “Thanks,” I mutter as I set my purse down and remove my shoes at the door. It’s just starting to rain out, and they’re soaking wet.
“You have the most incredible hair. How long did it take you to grow it out like that?”