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I pull the crotch of her leotard to the side, exposing her lush sex, dripping with want. My tongue swirls her delicious crevice like ice cream on a cone. I breathe her scent. Delicate and floral. I reach up and take the straps of her leotard, pulling them down off of her shoulders, exposing her breasts. I want her completely naked before me. I keep peeling the stretchy fabric off her body until it’s in a pile on the floor.
I wonder if seeing her naked will ever cease to amaze me. We fuck every night. I see her naked everyday but the sight of her still takes my breath away. I notice something new about her body each time. A different freckle. A well-defined muscle. I make a mental map. One day I will know her like the back of my hand. I will know everything that makes her tick. I suspect that even then, I won’t tire of her. I’ll just get better at bringing her pleasure until I’m a master of my craft.
Taking her clit into my mouth, I nibble on the stiff bud. She raises her hips, pushing against my face. I slide two fingers inside her. Now that her body is starting to adjust to my size, she can take three fingers, so I slip in another. She sucks in a breath. Things get significantly more slippery. When I pull my fingers out, they’re coated.
She sits up and wrestles with my pants until they drop down to my ankles. She then pulls down my boxers.
I grab my cock and slather it with her juices, slowly stroking myself. She gives me a mischievous smile and kneels in front of me. Is she going to …
Yes, she is.
“Fuck,” I groan as her mouth wraps around my dick and she sucks with vigor. She’s getting better at taking my length. Soon she’ll be able to down the entire thing. I can see the shape of it in the column of her throat, and I watch it go in and out. She doesn’t choke or gag. I’m impressed. And fucking turned on. This won’t take long. I’m right there.
“Wait, baby, I’m going to come,” I tell her.
She refuses to let go.
Okay, I see how it is.
Grabbing my ass, she pushes me deeper into her throat until her nose is pushed up against me. Holy shit, she got the whole thing in there. My fingers caress her cheeks then tangle in her hair.
“Oh fuck, I can’t hold on much longer,” I say.
This doesn’t stop her.
I try to hold on, but I can’t. My body lets go and I feel myself burst apart. She drinks it up, every drop until finally she pulls away and licks her lips.
I collapse on the couch beside her. “I was supposed to reward you, remember?”
She gives me a sexy look and winks at me. “You just did.”
I’m not letting her leave this place without getting her off on her big day. “Come here,” I tell her, and hoist her onto my lap.
I kiss her deep, tasting my salty cum on her tongue. She moans into my mouth as I play with her taut little clit. It doesn’t take long before I’m ready for round two. I take Cadie by the hips and lift her up. When she’s in line with the head of my rigid shaft, I lower her down and it’s like she’s melting onto me.
“God, you feel good,” I breathe.
“So do you,” she says, and starts to ride me.
I keep fondling her clit. Her moans get louder. Luckily the noise of the crowd is too loud for anyone to hear unless their ear is up against the door. Maybe not even then.
Her pussy shudders around me. I’ve grown familiar enough with her body to know what that means. She’s close. I move my fingers faster against her clit. Her eyes roll in the back of her head. Her entire body starts to shake.
“That’s it, let go,” I tell her.
I pull her closer to me and suck one of her hard nipples into my mouth. That does it. That sends her over the edge. She throws her head back. Her lungs open and she lets out a strangled cry as her orgasm destroys her.
“Oh, God, you’re amazing,” she says.
I lick the space between her breasts, and run my rough hands over the smooth globes of her ass cheeks. I tilt my head back and look up at her. The light above her casts her face in a shadow. All I can see is the gleam of her bright eyes.
“Not nearly as amazing as you, my love.”
We get dressed. There’s an obvious wet spot on Cadie’s leotard. She finds a skirt on one of the costume racks and giggles as she puts it on.
“Look what you did to me,” she says.
I cup her ass and give it a good squeeze. “I’ll do a whole lot more than that once I get you home.” I still have some fight left in me. I could go another round or two.
She bites her lip and looks up at me with those big stormy eyes, hungry for more. “Let’s hurry home.”
“If we can get through the crowd of fans,” I say.
Her smile falters. “I’m sure there aren’t that many. You’re just bias.” Fear draws her eyebrows together. “What if critics hate it? What if this show is my last?”
“It’s not,” I assure her. “Everyone loves you.”
If only she knew just how amazing she truly is. I hold her face in my hands and stare into her eyes. “People adore you. I was in the crowd. I saw their faces, their expressions, their tears. You are loved by everyone—by me, most of all.”
I kiss her. “Now, try not to forget about the little people on your way to the top.”
She rolls her eyes and takes my hand.
We leave the stage, but we don’t get far. We’re bombarded by hordes of fans, just like I told her. She looks startled by the attention at first, but then starts to relax. She looks up at me with a smile so big it forces her eyes closed. I shrug as if to say, I told you so.
They beg for autographs and selfies. She’s offered business cards and other jobs. They fawn over her like the star that she is.
I stand by and watch as she meets new people and signs autographs. Little girls look up at her with stars in their eyes. She’s their idol. If the lights were out, I swear she’d continue to shine.
For a while, after meeting Cadie, I regretted my past as the Bed Shaker. I was ashamed. Surrounded by forgettable faces, the stalkers, the awkward trysts, the lonely nights, the void I was trying to fill through meaningless sex. But I can’t regret it anymore. If I hadn’t been the Bed Shaker, Cadie’s friend never would have given her my number, and we never would have met. I wouldn’t change any of it for the world. It all led me to the girl of my dreams and the love of my life.
THE END
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Chapter 1
This is a terrible idea. I know it the moment the newly refilled drink is put in front of me, but I pick it up and down it anyway, grimacing at the sharp taste of vodka contrasted with the sweetness of cranberry. I should sip it, slow down. But fuck it, this is Vegas, right?
I slam the empty glass down on the table and give up a cheer. It’s echoed by my friends, all just as drunk as I am. We’re not totally gone, but I can fe
el it. The perfect buzz to have a good time.
“How are you feeling, Sandy?” The voice is loud in my ear. Anna is my no-bullshit best friend and this whole trip was her idea.
“I’m okay.” I yell back. It’s loud in this club and yelling is the only way that she’s going to hear me.
Elizabeth leans over the table. Of all of us, she looks the best tonight, blonde hair bouncing in giant curls and a sequin dress that makes her body look fantastic. She grabs my hand. “We need you to be better than okay! We need you to feel fucking awesome! Fuck Wyatt. You don’t need that piece of shit.”
My stomach drops. For a few minutes I’d actually forgotten the shit that is my life. The last two weeks feel like they’ve been some kind of nightmare. But if you can’t wake up from the nightmare, what can you call it? That’s the question I’ve been asking myself because I can’t fucking wake up. Two weeks ago today, I was sitting in a cake shop, waiting for Wyatt to come help me choose our wedding cake. He was late and not answering my texts. And then the call from my mom to come home immediately. The wave of rage that hits me in the gut is so strong that I think it might knock me over.
I didn’t see it coming even though I feel like I should have. Wyatt was gone, and so was Laura. My younger sister. Together, on a trip to Mexico. Shit. I feel like I’m going to throw up again. The same feeling I get every time I think about it. That, along with a crippling rage that makes me want to choke the life out of Wyatt. My sister. My sister?
Naomi hits Elizabeth in the arm. “We’re not mentioning the W-word, remember?”
“Shit.” Elizabeth sees the look on my face—probably nauseous. “Sorry, Sandy.”
I wave a hand. “It’s okay.”
“Seriously though,” she says. “I know that we’ve said it a lot, but it’s messed up. If it were my sister…”
“What am I supposed to do?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “She’s my sister, and I don’t own Wyatt. Maybe they’ll be happier together.” Though I really fucking doubt it. Can’t say that I’ll be surprised when he pulls the same shit on her that he pulled on me. It’s a good thing we don’t have another sister. I guess he’ll need to find a new family to traumatize.
