A Kiss For You

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by Rachel Van Dyken


  “So you think you’re an exception to the rule.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You want to be.”

  I smirked. “Maybe.”

  Jude snorted. “Well, you’ve only been fantasizing about her for ten years.”

  Phil warily watched me. “So, what are you going to do?”

  “Whatever I can, Philly. Whatever I can. Keep things easy and simple. I don’t want to own her.”

  Jude opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off, “I mean I want to own her with my dick—” he looked satisfied at that, “but I’m not trying to put her in a cage, ever. I want to show her that it doesn’t have to be messy or hard. It can be easy and fun. I just have to respect her space.”

  Jude laughed. “Oh, man, you should tell her that while you’re nailing her. I just respect you so much, Penny,” he teased in a girlie voice.

  “You are such a dick, dude.”

  He kept laughing. “I know.”

  “I didn’t think I’d hear from her so soon, but I’m not complaining. Last night wasn’t enough. Tonight won’t be either. Hopefully she’s just as into me, and we can keep this going. Easy.”

  Phil still wasn’t convinced. “Doesn’t sound easy. Relationships need three things to be successful.” He held up his fingers and ticked them off. “Respect, communication, and trust. If any one of those things breaks down, you’re in deep shit.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Phil.” Jude started laughing all over again.

  Phil looked wounded. “Angie told me that, and it’s fucking true. I’m just saying — if you’re not communicating about where you’re at, your shit’s gonna fall apart. Kablooey.”

  I tried not to overthink it. “Don’t worry, Philly. I’ll talk to her about it when the time comes.”

  “And in the meantime?” he asked.

  I smirked. “In the meantime, you leave so I can woo her.”

  “With your dick,” Jude said.

  The fucker popped out of his chair and ran off before I could deck him.

  Dicknotized

  I wet my smiling lips as I knocked on Bodie’s door, trying to ignore my banging heart, hyperaware of the soft fabric of my skirt against my bare ass and the point where my thighs met, warm and naked and sizzling at the thought of him.

  Dicknotized. I’d been completely and utterly dicknotized.

  The door swung open, revealing Bodie, tall and blond and beautiful, smiling that megawatt smile at me.

  “Hi,” I said stupidly, smiling back like an idiot.

  “Hey. Come on in.”

  He moved aside so I could pass, and I swayed my hips, hoping he’d catch the motion of my black skater skirt to remind him that I wasn’t wearing panties.

  When I looked over my shoulder at him, it was obvious my nefarious, self-serving plan to convince him to ravage me had worked. His eyes were on my upper thighs, and his lips were pinned between his teeth.

  I decided to prolong the inevitable, stretching out the tease for as long as I could with the desire to rip each other’s clothes off crackling between us.

  I set my bag next to the couch and looked around the apartment with my heart beating well above the normal resting rate. “I didn’t really get a good look at your place last night. I love it.” The loft was open, with exposed bricks and warehouse windows, simple, modern furniture, and tidy, considering three dudes lived there.

  “Thanks. Phil and Jude have been here for a few years now.”

  I shook my head, still looking around. “Man, they must have great jobs.”

  “They did,” he said as he approached from behind. “Phil is a software engineer, and Jude is in digital design. They quit so we could work on our video game together.”

  I started wandering just before he reached me, heading toward their office space. “Really? You’re designing a video game?”

  “Mmhmm.” He was still behind me where I’d left him.

  “Which desk is yours?” I asked, standing in front of the three, which were all side by side, facing the windows. Six monitors sat on top, two for each desk.

  “This one,” he said against my neck, surprising me.

  I hadn’t heard him approach. One hand slipped around my waist while the other pointed at the desk in the middle.

  “And what do you do here?” I leaned back into him, my plan largely forgotten when he pressed himself against my ass.

  “Mmm, lots of math.”

  His hands moved from my hips to the bend at my thighs, his fingers reaching between my legs, and I arched my back to shift my ass against the length of him.

  “Not really up for conversation?” I asked breathlessly.

  “I am,” he whispered against my neck.

  His hot, wet tongue for only the briefest of moments.

  “But first, I want to fuck you like I’ve been daydreaming about all day.”

  I swear to God, my pussy flexed like he was speaking directly to it.

  His fingers clenched, gathering my skirt up with them until his glorious hands were on me.

  First, he found my piercing and stroked it, circling with no hurry at all, teasing me. Then lower, dragging the pad of his finger up the line at my center, so slow, so light that he had my hips shifting, my core aching.

  I whimpered, and his finger clenched at the sound.

  “Don’t tease me,” I begged. “Fuck me.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, Penny,” he said calmly and quietly and with authority I hadn’t realized I’d granted. “I’m going to.”

  My brain had already exploded, and my awareness was focused on every place we touched, so when he disappeared for a second, the loss was a cold shock against my hot skin. But then he grabbed my hand, pulling me over to the couch. When he sat, he pulled me down to sit next to him, my heart pounding as I tried to kiss him. He had other plans, stopping me by cupping my cheek. His thumb slipped into my mouth, and I closed my lips over it, telling him with my eyes that I wished something else were in its place entirely.

  “Lie down,” he ordered gruffly, guiding me to stretch across his lap with my ass up and my knees and elbows on the couch.

  His cock was rock hard against the space between my belly button and clit, and I found myself wriggling against him, shifting slowly, my pulse frantic. I felt crazy. He was actually driving me mad, and he’d barely even touched me.

  Dicknotized. If I were a cartoon, my eyes would be pinwheels with dicks in the middle, spinning around and around.

  I was already panting, partly because I had no idea what he was going to do to me.

  Where are his hands? Why aren’t they on me? Why aren’t they in me? I need them to touch me.

  Part of me just wanted him to flip me over and fuck me senseless. The rest of me wanted him to tease me forever.

  I looked back at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. His eyes were on my ass — my skirt didn’t fully cover it, lying down like I was.

  “Cross your ankles.” His hand found my ass cheek and squeezed, kneading it as his thumb slid under the hem of my skirt.

  I did as I had been told, my heart hammering.

  His hands were reverent as they lifted up my skirt, flipping it so my entire backside was on display. His face was reverent too, as if he’d found some secret of the universe under my skirt.

  Bodie grabbed my ass again, groaning softly, his cock flexing under me. His thumb slipped between my ass and gripped, spreading me open, and I arched, lifting it into the air.

  “That’s right,” he breathed, voice deep. “Open up for me.” His hands moved — one kept me exposed, the other explored.

  First were his fingers running down the line and to my clit for a split second of glorious pressure before trailing back up. Then down they went with more pressure as he passed through the slickness of my core, wetting his fingers even more. The third time, his fingers nestled between the length of my lips, the tips capturing the ball of my piercing, and my hips bucked in answer. When he shifted them laterally, the sensation across the entir
e length of me coupled with my piercing circling my clit was too much.

  I gasped, heart slamming, nails scrabbling for purchase against the leather couch cushion, my face buried between my clenching hands.

  “Please,” I groaned. “Fuck, Bodie. Please. Please.”

  He said nothing, and I couldn’t look, not with starbursts flashing behind my pinched lids.

  I felt his wet fingers move up and then his thumb, now somehow wet too.

  It was so slick, so smooth, that it didn’t even give me pause when he circled the tight hole I rarely let anyone near.

  His thumb gently ran across me, his fingers stroking my pussy at the same speed, same pace, the pressure increasing until he flexed his fingers and slid into me, both holes at once.

  I raised off his lap, my mouth hanging open, my breath frozen in my lungs, but he didn’t stop. He stroked me, played my body, pushed every button, even buttons I hadn’t known I had. His fingers performed some exquisite gymnastics that I’d be thinking about for a decade, though in the moment I didn’t care how he was doing it, only that he didn’t stop. Ever. His pinkie rocked against my clit as the rest of his hand fucked me with tender determination.

  The deeper he went, the harder he went, the less control I had. Part of me wondered if I’d ever had any at all.

  I couldn’t even move, just laid there on his lap with my ass in the air. My hands moved to his leg under me, gripping his jeans, bracing myself.

  “Come on, Penny,” he said roughly, begging. “Come, so I can fuck you.”

  His hand flexed again, and three pressure points that he pressed screamed.

  “That’s right. Come on. Come for me.”

  Another flex. My heart strained against my ribs.

  “F-f-fuck,” I groaned as my body orgasmed, not a single thing in my control. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whispered against the leather of the couch cushion with every pulse of my body, full in every possible way and nowhere near full enough.

  “Thank God,” he breathed. A flurry of motion, he moved my limp body off his lap, put my knees on the ground, and moved behind me, kneeling between my legs.

  I barely possessed any awareness of my surroundings, not until he grabbed my hips and slipped into me from behind, hitting my G-spot like he fucking had radar for it.

  “Fuck!” I cried, sliding my hands into the back of the cushion to hang on as the orgasm I’d thought was gone got a second wind.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Penny,” he growled as he pounded me.

  His hand twisted in my hair and pulled. My orgasm thundered back to life with every pump of his hips. I didn’t even know how — it just wouldn’t stop, rolling through me like it would never end. My body was on fire, writhing and wriggling and flexing and contracting as he slammed into me over and over again, finally coming with a moan, a cry, a shudder, and jackhammering hips that hit the end of me so hard that I couldn’t breathe.

  I don’t even know how we came down or how long it took or what happened after that — I blacked out from bliss.

  When I regained a fraction of my senses, I found myself lying on the rug, tucked into Bodie’s side, both of us still fully clothed other than his unbuckled pants, condom still on.

  I didn’t even remember him putting it on, and the fact that it hadn’t even crossed my mind when he was nailing me from behind freaked me out. But only for a second. Lucky for me, he was a trustworthy guy, and he had been since high school. Maybe it hadn’t crossed my mind because I did trust him.

  That foreign thought freaked me out too.

  I didn’t have too long to contemplate it before Bodie seemed to reconnect his wires, turning to look down at me with a smile.

  “So,” I started, the word lazy, “if you tell me you earned your nickname by fucking girls like that in high school, I’m really going to be burned about missing that shot.”

  He chuckled and ran his hand down my arm. “Trust me — that was not the case. Roddy started it. First I was D, and Jude was Judie. Then D evolved into Diddle and Judie to Dee Dee. The nickname had nothing to do with anything other than him trying to humiliate me. I didn’t see a vagina in real life until college.”

  “Really?” I asked wondrously, nestling into his side a little more.

  “Yeah, really. I mean, you saw me. When it came to my friends, I had a mouth and confidence to beat their asses at literally anything, but I didn’t have the courage to really talk to girls. You and I were around each other enough that I could have. I should have.”

  “We talked,” I offered.

  “Yeah, but not like that. I just didn’t think I had a chance. Not then.”

  My heart sank. I wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but at sixteen, I had been looking for guys like Rodney — fast car, fast hands. Hell, I didn’t know how different I was now. The thought made me feel even worse.

  So instead of arguing, I curled deeper into his side.

  His arm flexed in answer.

  “College was … fun then?”

  “You could say that.” I could hear him smiling as he continued, “It probably wouldn’t have been, if not for surfing.”

  “Yeah, what’s the story with that? I don’t remember you surfing in high school.”

  “That’s because I didn’t. My dad tried to get me and Jude to surf with him from the minute we could swim, and we did a little when we were kids, but once we hit junior high, we were more interested in playing D&D in the basement than sports. I blame the whole reject-what-your-parents-want idea. They’re total hippies. I mean, they supplied weed to half the high school like it was fucking milk and cookies.”

  I laughed. “Your mom made a mean edible. She’d put her vegan cookies in those little sandwich baggies with a ribbon on it and smile and pat your cheek when she gave it to you. Half the time, she wouldn’t even let us pay.”

  “It’s funny now, but I was so embarrassed. How I didn’t turn out to be a burnout is beyond me.” He was still smiling, fingertips tracing circles on my back. “Anyway, before we left for college, Dad finally convinced us to surf with him for the summer, and Jude and I figured it was the old man’s last chance to hang with us before we were gone. We fell in love with it and went at least once a day in college. We were those crazy fuckers, freezing our asses off at five a.m. so we could get a good session in before class.”

  “I love that,” I said, imagining Bodie running into the ocean in slo-mo with a board under his arm. “And then came the girls?”

  “If I’d realized just how many girls, I’d have picked up surfing way sooner. Maybe then I could have stolen you away from Rod — that dick.”

  “Ugh, he really was. Is?”

  “Is. We’re still friends on social media. His Snapchat makes me want to fucking vomit.”

  I felt squirmy at the mention of Rodney. We weren’t friends anywhere, not after he’d stretched my heart out to the point that it lost its shape.

  I changed the subject. “Hey, I hate to ask, but I was so antsy to get over here that I didn’t eat after work. Do you have anything? I’m not picky. Popcorn will do. Cold cuts. Hot Pockets. Whatever you’ve got.”

  “Yeah. We’ve got some frozen pizzas, I think.”

  “Mmm. Totino’s?” I asked as we got up.

  “Red Baron.”

  “I’ll take what I can get, I guess.”

  He laughed and headed back toward the bathroom, fooling around between his legs as he walked. “Gimme one second.”

  “Take your time,” I said, my eyes on his ass, the top of which was exposed from his unfastened pants.

  He disappeared into the bathroom, and I sat down at the island in the middle of the kitchen, leaning on the counter, musing.

  My body purred like a kitten, thanks to him, and I found myself fluttery and smiley and absolutely happy. Bodie was good and he was fun and he was perfect. And I knew I was going to miss him when he was gone.

  One more date, max.

  I loathed the notion. I loathed it so deeply that I felt sick at
the thought of not seeing him again.

  He walked back in before I could think twice about it, smiling that goddamn smile that made my vagina spell his name in Morse code. I pushed my feelings away. I’d live in the moment. It was what I did best.

  Bodie opened up the freezer and moved things around for a minute. “Bad news. No pizza.”

  I frowned. “What have you got?”

  More shuffling.

  “A bag of peas, a half a bag of crinkle fries, and some popsicles with freezer burn.”

  My frown deepened.

  He closed the door and turned to lean on the other side of the island. “We could order one?”

  “That’ll take forever and I’m starving. What are the odds of a PB and J?”

  He smirked. “Pretty good. Just depends on your jelly preference.”

  “Grape or strawberry?” I asked. This was a test.

  He narrowed his eyes, recognizing the challenge. “Strawberry.”

  “Good. If you’d said grape, the whole deal would have been off.”

  He laughed and moved around the kitchen, gathering supplies.

  “Wait, it’s smooth peanut butter, right?”

  He shot me a look over his shoulder from the pantry. “Of course. We’re not animals, Penny.”

  “Thank God. Proper PB and J has universal rules that must be honored.”

  He laid everything out on the island between us. “So, how did you get into the tattoo business?”

  “Well, I was always into art, you remember?”

  He nodded as he set four slices of bread out on a cutting board.

  “After graduation and Rodney dumping me, I just had to get out of Santa Cruz. My aunt lived here in Manhattan, so I crashed with her. She was tatted up like crazy. I went with her to get a few at Joel’s shop, and when I was waiting for her one time, sketching, Joel asked if he could take a look. I’d never considered the profession until he asked me if I’d be interested.”

  Bodie smiled. “Kismet.”

  I folded my hands on the countertop. “It kinda was. He gave me my first tattoo. This one.” I turned to show him the piece on my shoulder and upper arm. “Joel … he’s like a big brother to everyone at the shop, and he brought most of us in as apprentices and taught us everything he knows, which is a lot.”

 

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