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Chapter 21
Nara
After that sessionwith Brodie overlooking the ballroom, I wanted more.
And then there was his apartment. As a former factory, the ceilings were insanely high, the floors a polished concrete. Old-timey casement windows stretched the entire length of every exterior wall, their slim metal frames painted a lumpy black probably from years of coats of paint. The effect was utterly charming. An open kitchen sat in a far corner, and the rest of the first floor was so large there were two different seating areas and of course a dining room. It would be the perfect setting for a party.
After a couple sips of my scotch, I was ready for the bedroom. I was not usually the aggressor, but something about him did me in. I wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend or to even start dating for that matter, but just looking at him made my heart pound, and the way he looked back at me made me woozy. It was as if he’d never seen a woman before, which of course, wasn’t true—but without even trying, he made me feel…special. That was it. Like I was really something. Who wouldn’t love that?
Because his place was a loft, of course there was a set of stairs that led to another open space of some sort. Not only did I want more of him, I was dying to see the rest of the apartment—I’d never been in a loft. So I got bold, and led him by the hand.
The entire second floor was a wide-open bedroom overlooking the lower level. His unmade king-size bed was covered with what looked like the world’s fluffiest down comforter, and a sofa and chair faced a wall-mounted TV off to the corner. A grouping of framed photos on the wall drew me closer.
“Is that you?” I asked, pointing at a tall, lanky teenager who was handsome beyond his years while retaining the out-of-proportion puppy look so many adolescent boys wore.
“Yeah.” He laughed. “I was pretty damn awkward.”
“What? You?” No way. Guys like him were never awkward. They were born to rule with their good looks and confidence. “You probably had a gazillion girlfriends,” I told him. I, on the other hand, did not have a single suitor in high school. Lots of sex, but sex does not a relationship make. I learned that fact young and I learned it the hard way.
He shook his head. “I had crushes. Typical summer romances. I married my college girlfriend.”
“You’ve been married? Really?”
“Yeah. We split after a year. We were too young. Too stupid.”
Another surprise.
I moved toward him. Gripping his shirt, I untucked it from his trousers, my hands flying under it to his powerful chest. I loved that he didn’t have an ounce of fat. Yum.
In my heels, I had to look up to see him. When I did, his mouth came down hard on mine, crushing my lips with a fury that both scared and turned me on. I slipped his jacket from his shoulders and began to work the buttons of his starched shirt. He pulled me against his hips, his giant hard-on pressing against the length of my abdomen. It was as if it was our first time, and we hadn’t just fucked an hour ago.
“You’re beautiful, Happy. So fucking beautiful,” he murmured in between kisses.
God, what this guy did to me. It should have been illegal.
I threw his shirt to the floor and my hands wandered down his abdomen to his strong back. His skin was fevered, almost too hot to touch.
Next, I went for his belt, my shaking hands bumping against the huge tent in his pants. He ran his own hands through my hair, grabbing fistfuls of it and burying his face in it.
He stood before me in his boxers, his perfect splay of chest hair winding down to that little line below his belly button, leading to greater treasures. I ran a finger along the waistband of his boxers, and his stomach muscles flexed as he gave a throaty growl.
My heart raced, and I reached for the cheeks of his hard ass. I was desperate to feel as much of him as I could, and I closed my eyes, running my hands over every inch of flesh within my reach. With the flick of his wrist, he untied my halter, my dress puddling around my feet again. My sex swelled with all the blood flowing to my core, my pussy desperately slick.
He backed me up to the bed until I had to sit on its edge. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. Without hesitation, he pushed them down his long, toned legs, his abs flexing as he bent and straightened.
His thick cock bounced in freedom, a drop of pre-cum hanging on its tip. Without meaning to, I moaned, again made dizzy by the pure masculine command in front of me.
“Taste me,” he murmured, reaching to unhook my strapless bra. When he did, my tender breasts hung free, craving his attention. But that would have to wait.
I held his cock in my two hands, amazed once more by its velvety length and prominent crown. I drew it into my mouth, getting it nice and wet, taking the entire length until it hit the back of my throat. I forced myself to relax to avoid gagging, and looked up to see his head loll back from the pleasure. His hands wandered to my shoulders for leverage, and he rocked his hips to meet my demanding hunger.
He stiffened even more, stretching the recesses of my mouth. My lips pistoned over the length of his shaft, resting occasionally on his swollen head. There, I increased my suction to a point that drove him to call my name. I was shaking with the power of our exchange and sucked him harder, my cheeks hollowing from the force. Reaching a hand between my legs, I spread my slick cream over my hard clit, stroking it in time to my sucking.
His cock swelled and lengthened one last time.
“Suck me,” he growled and shot fiercely into my mouth. I swallowed as best I could, the rest of his thick cum running down my chin and landing on my breasts. He fucked my mouth with one last thrust and leaned to kiss the top of my head.
I’d given other guys head before, but it had never made me so hot I had to be forced to stop.
“God, baby. Look what you did to me.” He tilted my chin up and I saw him dripping with perspiration, his hair soaked like he’d been out in the rain. He was still hard and wet from my saliva though his breathing was returning to normal. He lifted me to standing with his strong arms and brought me to the bathroom where he wiped us both down with towels.
He brought me back to the bed. “C’mon. Under the covers.”
Pulling the comforter over us, he flicked off his bedroom light and wrapped his arms around me from behind. I sank into the safety of his embrace, where we remained just like that until morning.
