by Mia Kendall
There’s that roundabout question again. Meg asks me that every two weeks without fail, and sometimes I hope that it’s not so much curiosity but jealousy that makes her ask it.
Because I feel the same way about her.
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” I pause for exactly three seconds. “You don’t have a boyfriend either, I take it?” I say as casually as I can. “Since you didn’t call him instead.”
“Nope,” Meg said, looking out the window and not meeting my eyes. “I’m all by myself, as always.”
I frown, not liking the sad way she says it, even though it makes me secretly relieved that she is still single. I’m not kidding myself—I have the biggest crush on her. Who wouldn’t? Meg’s smart, and funny, and so damn beautiful. She made me laugh more in the past four months than I did in the entire year before I knew her, and we hadn’t even met yet.
But even if I want to pursue Meg—and I do think about it, no fewer than ten times a day—we just aren’t compatible.
I look at where she is seated and take in her wealth of shiny dark hair, already slipping from the bun at her nape. Her prim, starched office dress shirt and black pencil skirt screams “big-city girl”, while my t-shirt and jeans are the uniform of a small town guy.
Meg belongs in Seattle, but I can never leave Castle Rock, Colorado. I first stepped foot in it six years ago, as a fresh-grad from Rice U’s Business school. My mum had just passed from her five year battle with breast cancer, and honestly, I’d grown pretty jaded with the big city. After I graduated, my dad and I took a road trip up North, and we fell in love with this place and its small-town vibe, the endless pine forests and mountains, and the tight-knit community of fifty-eight thousand. We moved over from Houston months later, this time bringing with us everything we owned. I haven’t left since, and I don’t ever plan to.
I take another look at her profile, at the way the soft streetlights dance over her long eyelashes. I take in her plump, pink lips, and the soft curve of her cheeks.
God, she’s gorgeous. I found her public Instagram profile months ago, and every night since then had been spent flicking through her photos, checking what she’s up to. It’s probably considered stalking, but I can’t help but look, just like I am now.
But I know that Meg and I are worlds apart, and no matter how I wish otherwise, I also know that we can never be more than pen pals. I love Castle Rock too much to leave, and Meg’s heart belongs to the big city.
I tear my eyes away from Meg before I can cause an accident and focus on getting us back to my place, all the while aware of her blistering presence beside me.
I pull into my driveway an hour later, having taken the quiet route through town to get back sooner. Meg’s eyes are wide as she unbuckles the seatbelt and exits the Jeep.
“Oh wow,” she breathes as she gapes up at the front of my house. “This is really nice.”
“Thanks,” I grin as I shut the door and lock the car. “I bought at rock-bottom price two years ago, dirt-cheap for a five-thousand square foot place. I fixed it up with my friends, and we added the porch and that wing over there,” I pointed.
“You did this yourself?” Meg’s eyes become bigger. “That’s so cool.”
I take her into my house where she continues to ogle, staring at the interior with starry eyes and making me want to snatch her up and kiss her silly.
I look away quickly and try to focus on something else other than her. It’s the wrong damned time, seeing how she just ran away from a motherfucker who said something to her that she can’t even bring herself to tell me, so I take a deep breath and crush the urge to grab her to me.
”My friends and I ripped a page out a home design magazine,” I say as I lead her up the stairs to the second floor. “We don’t have an ounce of creativity between us, so we just replicated the look and called it a day.”
“You should seriously consider an interior design business.” Meg runs her hands over the polished bannisters as she jogs after me.
“The pub’s keeping me plenty busy for now.” I stop at the first door down the hallway. “Here are the bedrooms. This is the guest bedroom where you’ll be sleeping,” I open the door and turn on the lights, letting Meg peek inside. “Mine’s right at the end of the hallway.” I head over and enter my master bedroom, going to my connected walk-in wardrobe.
“This place is huge,” Meg remarks as she waits for me to dig around in my closet.
“Feels little too big sometimes,” I shrug again. “I’m thinking of selling and downgrading to a smaller place.”
“Really?” She sounds surprised. “That’s a pity, after all the work you’ve put into it.”
“I can always fix up another.” I take a pair of sweatpants and the smallest t-shirt I have and hand it to Meg. “I’ll show you to the bathroom in the guest suite.” I stride past her, trying to ignore the fact that Megan Clark is standing right in my bedroom, hugging my clothes close to her chest, and biting her lip, looking sexier than she has a right to.
“Actually,” she says hesitantly, “can I shower in your bathroom? If you don’t mind.”
I freeze at her question, and the thought of Meg naked and wet in my bathroom makes my cock hard immediately. I wish to hell I can join her.
“Sure,” I say hoarsely, quickly striding out of my bedroom before I do something stupid. “I’ll be in the living room.”
For the next half hour that I wait, I try to watch TV and not to imagine Meg’s naked body just upstairs above me. But with every minute that passes, I become less focused on the show in front of me and more obsessed about which stage of her shower she’s at.
Is she shampooing her hair? Washing her breasts with my soap, running her slicks palms over her nipples?
Going lower?
“Shit.” I let my head fall back on the sofa. Having to fantasize about her when she’s a thousand miles away is bad enough, but this is a new kind of torture. My cock is already hard as a rock, with no sign of release coming other than in my hand.
A few minutes later, I hear soft footsteps down the stairs and look up expectantly.
My jaw drops.
Meg is standing at the base of the stairs, wearing my t-shirt and no sweatpants. The hem of my shirt just barely brushes the tops of her thighs.
“Sorry,” she gives me a half-grimace, half-smile, twisting her fingers together in front of her. “Your sweatpants are too big, and I can’t walk without tripping over them.”
Sorry? Fuck sorry, this is the show of my life. My eyes go heavy-lidded as I take her in.
Because there is one other problem.
The t-shirt I gave Meg is white. White, thin, and practically see-through.
“Shit,” I mutter again, running my hand over my mouth and jaw. I can see her fucking nipples. Her areolas are a mouth-watering dark pink, and her damp locks of long hair dragging over them only make the fabric more transparent.
The aching in my cock grows into a full-blown, painful throbbing. I drag my eyes up to Meg’s face again, watching her as she approaches the armchair I am seated in.
“Thanks, Liam. You’ve been amazing.” Her voice is soft, hypnotic, and seductive. She comes to a stop in front of me, standing between my parted legs. I can smell the scent of my shampoo on her, and it’s the hottest thing in the world.
I have a sudden vision of Meg dropping to her knees, unzipping my pants and springing my cock free. I imagine her sucking it between those plump lips of hers, sliding her eyes shut as she moans and takes me as deep as she can into her throat.
My erection swells at the enticing thought.
Meg’s brown eyes turn heavy-lidded. She reaches up and sweeps her damp long hair to her back, letting me see all of her gorgeous body behind that damp white t-shirt. The translucent fabric molds to the curves of her hips, the round, firm globes of her breasts, and the puckered, pink buds of her nipples. I can even see the faint V where her thighs are closed over her pussy.
A ragged groan leaves my throat
at the show Meg is giving me. I can’t believe this is happening, and I lick my lips, dying to taste her between her legs. If I just reach out, I’ll be able to touch her. If I just lean forward, I’ll be able to press my open mouth to her pussy. I can already smell her arousal, her juices that I know is gathering there. Shit, I would give everything just to feel her clamp her thighs around my head as I eat her out.
Only the tiniest shred of conscience makes me shake my head sharply. She’s vulnerable now, afraid and insecure. I can’t take advantage of that.
“You’ve had a long night, so get some rest,” I rasp, forcing myself to look away.
Meg stands stock still in front of me, not moving for a long moment.
Then she steps back.
“O-of course,” she says, her voice sounding too perky. “I was just, uh, saying goodnight. So, goodnight!”
I turn and watch wordlessly as she flees the living room, disappearing upstairs in a flash of long legs and creamy thighs.
“Fuck me,” I mutter when the door to the guest bedroom shuts. The girl I’m infatuated with has just made a move on me, and I turned her down.
I’ll need a shit ton of booze to forget that she’ll be sleeping just two doors away from me tonight.
Chapter Three
MEGAN
I toss and turn in the bed late into the night. The air is cold outside, but my body is heating up like a furnace.
Groaning, I pull the coves over my face and wish that I can disappear.
It had been a mistake to shower in Liam’s room.
His concrete and wood bathroom is bold and masculine just like its owner—it even smells of him and his pine cologne, and being surrounded by his smell only made my body hot and swollen and wet. The industrial scrubbing down I gave myself did jack for tamping down the flames, and by the time down, I was already impossibly aroused.
And when I put on Liam’s shirt, letting the fabric drag over my nipples and my ass, all hell broke loose inside me. I practically moaned, rubbing the fabric over my body, pretending it’s his big hands on me.
For the first time in my life, I was alone with a hot guy in his house. We are both single, we like each other, and I couldn’t think of any guy other than Liam that I wanted to lose my virginity to. Because even though this is the first time we’ve met, I feel like I’ve known him forever. He was the first person I thought of when I was terrified. He kept me safe without question. He’s the guy I want.
Armed with that thought, I had gone down to the living room earlier with the intention of seducing Liam. And I failed.
Although, I did come close. Liam’s blue eyes had taken me in hungrily, his eyelids going heavy with arousal. He had lounged in his armchair like an indolent king in his palace, watching me as I thrust my breasts out for him, silently asking him to take me. His leisurely position had excited me—it reminded me that I barely knew this guy. Liam was powerful and experienced, and I was out of my depth in his domain. It made me want to surrender my body to him, to feel his stubbled jaw scraping my thighs as I beg him to take me.
But I didn’t even get the chance to beg, because aside from being a hot pub owner with the body of a lumberjack, Liam is apparently also a gentleman.
I can’t believe I’m actually wishing that he is less of one. I want Liam—no, I need Liam to be making love to me. I need his mouth on my breasts, needed his thick cock filling my aching pussy to the brim. I may be a virgin—being too busy with keeping a roof over your head screws over your dating life like that—but crap, I have my needs too.
Exhaling irritably, I kick off the covers off me. I’m aroused and awake, a bad combination when one is trying to get to sleep.
But maybe I can remedy one of those problems…
Biting my lip, I reach down and drag the hem of Liam’s t-shirt up my thighs and over my breasts, baring stifling a moan when the fabric brushes against my aching nipples.
Then slowly, I part my legs slightly and slip my hand between my thighs.
I touch my middle finger to my clit where I’m aching.
“Oooh…” I close my eyes at the blissful contact. My pussy is already wet and swollen, practically dripping juices down my thigh and onto Liam’s bed covers.
Will he find the stains when I’m gone? A thrill shoots through me at the thought of him knowing that I’d orgasmed right in his bed. If I’m lucky, he’d even wrap the cover around his big cock and jerk himself off, spilling his cum right over mine.
My lips form an O as my fingers slip over my pussy, working the slick flesh there. A muffled whimper slips past my lips as I imagine Liam Evans shirtless, with his brawny biceps and his rock-hard abs. He’s lounging in his chair with his powerful legs spread apart like just now, the large bulge of his erection tempting me. His sexy blue eyes watch me as I do a strip-tease for him. I slowly drag the thin white shirt off, baring my naked body to him.
Mm… I throb with anticipation as Liam watches me play with myself. My fingers move faster, vibrating my clit shamelessly. I start panting from the sheer ecstasy.
“Yes,” I moan, working my pussy so hard the wet sounds of my juices fill the room. “Oh god, Liam…”
Liam smirks as he gets up from his chair, stalking toward me like I’m his prey. His muscular body draws close, coming to stand behind me. Then he grips my hips and jerks them back against him. My eyes roll back as he presses his big, hard cock between my ass cheeks. He’s so hard and so fucking big, rubbing that thing against me obscenely.
I flick my nipple, rubbing my pussy with my middle finger. Harder. Faster. My body curls on its side as I clamp my thighs around my vibrating hand.
“Oh, yes,” I moan, sliding my eyes shut and throwing my head back. “Oooh, Liam, yes!”
Liam reaches around me and takes over, expertly working his middle finger over my wet clit and sliding between my pussy lips. My hips begin buckling, jerking to meet where he was stroking me hard to orgasm. I want his big cock filling every inch of me. I want him pounding into me from the back as I scream.
“Mmm, Liam!” I cry, uncaring of how loud I am. I want him to hear me moaning his name. I want him to come over to watch the show.
And lucky me, he does.
I hear the door open, and my eyes crack open to see the lights in the bedroom turning on. I now have an audience of one.
Liam has just entered the room, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that he’d hastily yanked on. His eyes are alert and his muscles tense, like he’s ready to take down whatever is making me scream.
Now he knows it’s him.
“Filthy girl,” he says in a ragged voice, his disbelieving gaze burning hot on my naked body. “I thought you’re having a nightmare, and here you are stroking yourself to fantasies of me?”
I bite my lip and nod helplessly.
Feeling more daring that I have ever been in my life, I part my thighs, giving Liam a perfect view of my red and swollen pussy. My greedy fingers are still working my clit, and clear juice soaks them all over.
But I can’t stop petting myself. It’s filthy, like Liam said, but oh god, it feels so damn good with him watching me.
“Oh fuck,” Liam breathes, staring at my fingers working my clit.
“Liam, please...” I lick my lips, panting hard. I drag my eyes down his shirtless torso, down his sculpted abs, down to the chiseled V-shape of his pelvis…
And I see the bulge already forming behind his unfastened jeans. I moan harder, arching my back and giving him a show. My pleading gaze never leaves his.
“Shit, babe.” Liam gives a taunting, disbelieving smile as he strolls over to me. “I shouldn’t have worried about you, should I? You’re making yourself right at home.”
He stops by the bed, and still holding my gaze, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and takes it off.
An involuntary moan escapes me when I see his large cock jutting out obscenely from his body. It’s a darker color than the rest of his tanned body, so thick and hard that it nearly pres
ses up against his stomach. The blunt head is swollen and dark red, already glistening with precum dripping down the long shaft.
I lick my lips, wanting to wrap them around him.
Liam’s gaze burns into me as he joins me on the bed, but my hungry eyes never leave his bobbing erection. I swallow hard, yearning for that hard thickness to fill my entire mouth. To fill my pussy.
“You wanted this, didn't you?” he asks leisurely, settling between my thighs. “Wanted me to come running like a horny bastard when you moan my name.”
I nod, whimpering softly.
Liam’s slow smile makes me even wetter. He’s so different from the gentleman earlier, with a new simmering tension that makes me feel like he’s just a hairs-breadth away from grabbing me and fucking me raw.
He grasps my knees and forces them wider. I bite my lip as I keep rubbing my slick clit.
“You can’t stop touching yourself.” Liam’s smile is approving as he watches me. “How often?”
“Every day,” I pant. “Sometimes more than once.”
I can tell that my answer pleases him.
“I think about you too,” he says lazily, grabbing my wrist and taking my fingers away from my pussy. “In my personal office...” He smiles slowly, his meaning unmistakable. “And every night in my bed.”
I bite my lips at the thought of Liam jerking himself off while thinking about me. I imagine him moaning as he shoots his cum all over his hands and abs. It’s so incredibly hot.
He takes his large cock in his fist and pumps it once, twice, bringing more glistening precum to the head. I whimper helplessly, and that sound becomes a loud moan when Liam begins rubbing the head of his cock against my slick entrance.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I chant mindlessly as the blunt thickness pushes past my pussy lips. It presses up against my inner muscles, and all I can feel is how big he is. He’s so hard that I can come just from the insistent pressure at my entrance.