She shook her head. “Nope. This is all about you. You know I like it when those perfect plump lips talk dirty. Tell me what you want. Be explicit.”
The smartass was throwing my words back at me. Thought she was in charge, did she? Cute. Time to remind the little kitten what it felt like to be devoured. I grabbed her by the hips and positioned her to straddle my face.
“Hey!” she objected.
My tongue landed on her clit and her argument morphed into a moan. I licked and flicked, and she went back to sucking on my cock. Her pussy was already soaked. Sucking my dick had turned her on, and I loved that. Desperate to repay the morning oral she’d blessed me with, I alternated between fingering and licking her. Her mouth slid up and down my cock. She added both hands. Rubbing. Tugging. I licked her harder, faster, my fingers attacking her g-spot as I worked. It became a competition. The harder and faster I fucked her with my tongue and fingers, the harder and faster she sucked my dick. Soon, her head was bobbing up and down so fast my balls were clenching as I tried not to blow my load. With my fingers and tongue still plunging into her pussy, I tried to pull my dick out of her mouth, but she refused to give it up.
I came in her mouth and she fucking swallowed it!
I would have never pegged a girl like Julia for a swallower, but knowing she was made me appreciate her even more. Wanting to show her a little of my appreciation I flipped her over, so I was on top. Then I repositioned myself and ate her pussy until she did scream my name, begging me to stop because she was ticklish after coming. We settled into bed again, and I glanced at the alarm clock. Four forty-three a.m.
“Do you have to go?” she asked, sounding disappointed as she followed my gaze. “Because that was only once, and you cheated by tickling me. You promised I’d be screaming your name many times. One is not many.”
She’d lowered the blanket to her waist, revealing her beautiful tits. She’d figured out my weakness and now she was using it against me. Shaking my head, I let out a chuckle before motor-boating the hell out of her tits. She laughed, begging me to stop.
“That’s twice, babe. I already told you, I fight dirty.”
It was Sunday, and this was my weekend off. I had all kinds of shit to do around my house, but the naked little vixen lying beside me was already making me hard again. Sucking a big, dark red nipple into my mouth, I reached for another condom.
We alternated between fucking and napping until it was time for Julia to get up and get ready for work. We showered, dressed, then I walked her down to the shop and gave her a kiss goodbye before heading out. I didn’t know whether it was appropriate for friends to kiss goodbye, but I also didn’t give a shit.
Julia
REGRET. THAT’S WHAT I expected to feel after the wild, passionate night of casual sex I experienced with Havoc. Instead, I felt wonderful, invigorated, and sore. Holy crap, was I ever sore. That man and his giant penis had worked me over good, and I’d loved every minute of it. He walked me down to work and kissed me goodbye—which was a pleasant surprise—before heading out. And now I was buzzing around the bookstore, straightening shelves, dusting away cobwebs, and looking for woodland critters to sing to because I was sure this had to be a fairytale. Only my prince was a friendly neighborhood biker with his club logo tattooed on his chest, was hung like a horse, and stayed hard like an alligator. Seriously. I’d read that alligators have constant erections, and last night, Havoc had been one of those glorious reptiles.
I picked up my cell phone to call Laura and tell her about my incredible night, but remembered that she was on her way to the Caribbean for her ten-day honeymoon. Damn. I finally had juicy details to share and nobody to share them with.
I needed friends.
So far, I had one friend, and he was the reason why I was walking funny. Maybe I should tell him how great last night was? I picked up my phone and considered it, but he’d only been gone for a couple of hours and I didn’t want to appear desperate. Wasn’t there some rule about waiting and making the guy text first? That sounded like a game, which was in violation of one of Havoc’s conditions, so I should probably just be honest and let him know how he rocked my world. Before I could change my mind, I sent him a quick message to let him know I had fun last night. Fun. Talk about an understatement.
A couple of customers came in and I greeted them and pointed out the sci-fi/fantasy section before checking my phone for a reply. Nothing. I put away my phone and rang up the customers before checking again. Still no text back. My stomach churned, second guessing my text. Second guessing everything we’d shared last night. He’d been so sweet and wonderful at the wedding and on the ferry. It felt like we’d connected. Had I screwed up everything by letting him into my bed?
What if he didn’t enjoy it?
What if he was just another horny asshole who’d played me for sex?
He himself had told me he was no saint. Was that his way of letting me know he’d bounce after we did the deed?
I’d been wrong about Wesley, what if I was wrong about Havoc, too.
Stop.
I had to get out of my own mind or I’d go crazy. It was too soon to assume anything about Havoc. He’d seemed genuine, so I shouldn’t be so quick to judge him. He was probably preoccupied and would text me back when he got the chance. The world didn’t revolve around my stupid insecurities and need for an immediate response. Why was I staring at my phone like a paranoid lunatic? Desperate to stay busy so I wouldn’t think about it, I pulled out a bottle of cleaner and went to work shinning up the storefront windows. Then I wiped down the mirror in the bathroom and dusted all the framed art. By the time lunch came around, the store was practically sparkling it was so clean. I checked my phone for a response from Havoc and instead found a text from an unknown number. Frowning, I clicked it open.
‘You looked amazing yesterday. I miss you. Can we meet up and talk?’
Definitely not the text I was hoping for. I typed out several creative suggestions for how Wesley could die before erasing them all and choosing not to respond. I was still contemplating the benefits of killing the irredeemable fuckwit, and if I actually snapped and went through with that course of action, I didn’t want to leave any evidence.
My phone beeped with another incoming text. ‘Has Havoc told you our little secret yet? Or is he seeing how many more times he can get you to scream his name, first?’
As I read the text, ice flooded my veins and little warning bells went off in my mind. I read it again and again, trying to deny the implications. Wesley knew about Havoc’s challenge. How? There was only one obvious answer, and it flitted around in my brain waiting for me to grasp it, but I refused. I’d just had the most amazing night of my life and I couldn’t accept that it had all been a setup.
There had to be another explanation, but I couldn’t think of one.
Tears stung my eyes.
Refusing to let them fall, I blinked them away and looked at my phone again. Still no response from Havoc. Or maybe this was his response. Admission by silence.
