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I glance at Ari every chance I can as I ride as fast as I can toward the closest Starbucks. I have so many questions about her that need answers.
Why does she need to have sex for money? Does she have a terminally ill grandmother? Are her student loans that expensive? Does she have a brother she needs to pay bail to get out of prison? Is she planning to pay someone off at Broadway so she can get a role? The wilder the reasons I come up with, the less I can bring myself to pull out my badge. If she’s suffering through something tragic, she doesn’t deserve to have an arrest heaped on top of her.
Plus, she’s far too pretty to go to jail. People will do terrible things to her on the inside. The only person who should be allowed to do terrible things to Ari is me. Which brings me to the question I desire to know the answer to the most: How wet and warm can she get for me?
We make it to Starbucks, place our orders and wait for our drinks. I gaze across the room of plush sofas and arresting Ari is the furthest thing from my mind. Because of her, I have a whole new morning jerk-off routine, considering how often I’m woken up from dreams about finally getting to see her pretty pussy and needing to take care of myself. I’m on the verge of going insane, only a few moments away from taking my gun to the shooting range and firing away all of the fucking sexual tension that’s keeping me up at night.
Thankfully, Ari’s wearing something that’s not causing all of my blood to rush south, for once. She’s wearing an oversized, pink shirt, loose black jeans, and flats. She looks as good in modest clothing as she does in her late night ‘uniforms.’ Her hair is tamer, slicked to the back with something. There’s a black and pink scarf around her neck with a broach that makes her look regal.
“Blaze!” the barista calls our order, and I hop up to get it.
I put Ari’s coffee thermos on the table so that she can tear a pack of sugar with her teeth and drop it into her drink. I am ridiculously charmed by that little detail; the fact that she cares enough about the environment to carry her own thermos in her purse. Ari looks and acts like someone I can have; someone I can take home and introduce to my mom. The whole scene makes my breath catch.
“I need to get some more creamer,” I say to excuse myself from her mesmerizing innocent beauty. I walk over to the condiment station and give my hardness a moment to go down before returning.
I stare at Ari as I walk back to the table. Her eyes go wide with recognition of my attention to her, a breathtaking shade of hazel. Coffee mug forgotten beside her elbow, Ari tugs her bottom lip between her teeth in a self-conscious motion that goes straight to my dick.
My feet carry me across the room on autopilot. I’m a piece of scrap metal, drawn irresistibly to a magnet. Ari helps to close the distance, coming around the table. In only a few seconds, she is in arm’s reach.
“My apartment is a one-minute walk away,” I tell her, breathing a little harder in anticipation. It’s what we both want, and apparently, from the twinkle in her hazel eyes, it’s what we both need. “There was no construction; no rain; no fires; no traffic jams; nothing at all wrong ten minutes ago when we drove over here. So, I can’t think of anything that would get in our way tonight. Please come home with me.”
Ari is breathing hard, chest rising and falling in time with mine, and lips bitten red. “Yes,” she says, fervently.
I take her by the hand, and we walk out the door into the parking lot. I turn and grab her by the waist, pulling her body against mine. My fingers slip into her curly hair as I plant my mouth on hers again. The taste of her lips is so good to me. I can’t wait to have her
pinned between my body and the wall.
She returns the kiss, giving herself to me freely. For a split second, I wonder if this is something she does for all men, or if it’s something special she has for me. We kiss until she convinces me it’s something special, made just for this moment we’re sharing. A moan escapes from deep within my throat when she licks my lips as part of the most sensual kiss I’ve ever received.
I take her hand and guide her around to the passenger’s side to let her into the car before running around to the driver’s seat, cranking up and getting to my apartment in record speed.
Chapter Six
Ari
The very moment we get inside Blaze’s apartment, he pushes me back against the wall and kisses me hard, much harder than before. This time, there’s immeasurable passion flowing from him. Hands clenched in my scarf, as he handles me roughly, he shows me he’s not the gentle giant I think he is.
We taste like the coffee we abandoned back in the store, thermos and all.
He looks incredible, curls windswept and cheeks pink from the cold weather. He kisses back with equal fervor like he’s been wanting this as much as I have. That’s gratifying. It’s terrific to feel wanted, and every conscious part of me tells me these are his true feelings.
When his neck bends as far as possible—he’s much taller than me—he lifts me in one push, using the leverage of the wall. I go with it, wrapping my legs around Blaze’s waist and hooking my arms around the back of his head. In that position, it’s all too easy for him to press into my body and keep me there, his manhood brushing against my womanhood every time one of us dives back into the kiss.
“Fuck, Blaze,” I murmur. “Holy fuck, you’re so fucking hot. Your fucking arms…” F-bombs come out of my mouth with ease until my words drop off as my hands roam his muscular arms. Are so fucking big and strong… I complete the thought in my head for fear his python-like arms will squeeze the life out of me if I say it aloud. He’s taking over every part of me, especially my mind, and I’m allowing it. “I love being in your arms,” I admit.
“I love having you in them, Ari. You’re so sexy.” He scrapes his teeth along the underside of my jaw. “I’ve been thinking about you for weeks,” he admits. Blaze is rumpled-looking as he wildly caresses me, and he sounds like his ability to control himself is completely lost.
My control is fraying more with every kiss we share. I fit perfectly in his arms, like the second half of a puzzle piece. I want to take advantage of that, want to erase every other woman he’s ever held from his mind. Even if after tonight he never calls me again, I’m determined to be the best fuck he’s ever had.
“You’re gorgeous,” he continues. “Ari, God, your mouth. I want your lips on my cock. I want to see my cum on your tongue. I want to see you take it all in your mouth,” he says.
I yank his pants and briefs down, and he immediately stops talking. The knowledge of what’s about to happen has his eyes glazed over with delight. My eyes equally glaze over when his big, rock-hard cock flings out as if it’s a third arm. My mouth waters at the sight of its beauty.
“Everything about you is sexy,” I say to him as I open my mouth and begin licking the head of his beautiful dick. I lick down to the shaft and back up before I take him all in, a ritual I repeat until my name is bouncing off his apartment walls. After teasing him this way for a while, I take him all the way to the back of my throat, while staring up at him.
His widened eyes indicate he is impressed. As I take him from the roof of my mouth to the depths of my throat, I make a tight gap with my lips, teasing the head with my tongue and moving it along the vast expanse of his cock. I take him in and out, over and over until he can’t help but to growl like an animal, grab the back of my head, and grind as if he’s fucking my pussy. That’s what I want, his groans of pleasure to be seared into my mind—a sound so sweet.
I don’t know what turns me on more, hearing his sex sounds or giving him head. I create a rhythm with him that elicits more of those sounds I love so much. Blaze closes his eyes, showing his enjoyment of my soft, wet mouth devouring his cock with each thrust. When his balls tighten, I can taste the fruits of my labor trickling down my throat. I want it, and I want it all. He grunts and calls out my name as his strokes intensify with the extreme pleasure I know is building inside of him.
