And speechless.
Oh, my good god, what the hell was that?
I’m not sure if I’m more surprised by what came out of his mouth or that it’s Linden who’s saying it. Probably both. I mean, given his parade of leggy women and his frankness toward sex, it’s not that it surprises me at all.
It’s just a bit of a shock to hear him saying it about me.
Oh, and a turn on. I mentioned that, didn’t I?
I adjust in my seat and immediately know he’s right about the panty soaking prediction.
“Clenching for me already?” he says and then he straightens up, going back to nursing his beer at the bar like everyone else. Meanwhile I am fucking clenching, throbbing, as his words still swirl around my head and make my legs squeeze together. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted to screw someone this badly before.
Then again, we’ve had years and years of foreplay.
“Busy night, aye,” Linden says and I have to shake my head to get back in the game. He’s talking to James, who is back in front of us and pouring him another pint. I have a feeling Linden doesn’t suffer from whisky dick.
“Yeah,” James says, “but it’s good for business.” He looks over and me and frowns. “You feeling okay there, Steph?”
“What, why?” I ask, panicking a little.
He gestures to his own face. “You’re all flushed. Like, feverish.”
“Oh,” I say and then let my shoulders slump a bit, attempting to play it off. “Yeah, I’m not feeling too well.”
“I told you, you’ve been working too hard,” James says teasingly.
“I know, I know,” I tell him. I want to tell him that I did just take last weekend off so I could go to Sea Ranch with them and that I am hiring now so that an employee will lighten my load but suddenly I don’t feel like getting caught in a conversation with him. I only want to talk to Linden, to think about Linden, to find out what the next step is, if I’m brave enough to take it and if his actions equal his promises.
Maybe Linden senses this because he puts his hand on my shoulder, and just like old times, says, “Okay baby blue, James is right, you don’t look well. Let’s call you a cab.”
“On it,” says James as he picks up the phone and hands me my coat, which I had him store behind the bar. I shuck it on and wave goodbye to him while he’s on hold and then Linden is grabbing me by the elbow and leading me out the door.
Outside a few people are smoking and laughing as wisps of fog swirl around and I know it will be at least a few minutes before a cab arrives. I can’t help but wonder if I am actually being sent home but then Linden slides his hand down from my elbow all the way to my hand and holds it. He squeezes once and then doesn’t let go.
“I’m going with you,” he says and his eyes glint in the streetlights. “And we’re going to my place first. Just so you know.”
“What about James?”
He tilts his head, considering. “I don’t want James to be concerned with anything we’re about to do. I don’t want to fuck up our little trinity. But this, me taking you to a cab, hell the both of us sharing a cab, it’s something we’ve done a million times before. Nothing has really changed, Steph. It’s only going to get better.”
Nothing has really changed but the old Linden – my friend Linden – wouldn’t molest me in the back of a cab.
Although, that’s not what happens at all. When the cab finally pulls up and we get in the back seat, there is a considerable amount of distance between us. I for sure thought he’d take this opportunity to finish what he started but he just stares out the window at the rows of houses and the orange glow of the fog reflecting the city lights.
It’s a cab ride that borders on awkward and I don’t like feeling awkward around him. And then I realize how clammy my palms are and how I am so god damn nervous about what might happen – am I actually about to have sex with Linden? – I feel more like a girl than I do a woman.
I wonder if he’s nervous too. He seems so cool and calm, not that that’s out of the ordinary, not for him.
When the cab pulls up to his apartment, though, he pays the driver and then takes my hand leading me up the stairs to the foyer. It’s not that late but our footsteps echo as we walk and as he swipes his key card I look behind me to the street. It’s eerily quiet, the mist muffling city sounds. It makes everything seem larger than life.
Maybe it is all larger than life right now.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
STEPHANIE
Linden leads me down the hallway to his first floor apartment, back to holding my hand again¸ and even though I’ve walked down past these white walls with the flashy gold apartment number plates and tiled floors a million times before, it all looks different now.
It looks new.
This is all so new.
We stop right outside his door and as he sticks the key in the slot, I blurt out, “What if this is a mistake?”
He pauses and slowly looks over his shoulder at me. “Do you think it’s a mistake?”
I chew on my lip for a moment and try and listen to my heart. Do I think this is a mistake?
“No,” I slowly say, my heart starting to race in response. “But it doesn’t mean I’m not scared.”
He unlocks the door, pushing it open an inch and then turns around to face me. His brow is furrowed, his eyes soft and searching. “Baby blue…it’s me.”
“I know,” I tell him. “But what if…what if it doesn’t work out?”
“It will work out,” he says but I don’t know if I share his confidence.
“I just don’t want it to blow up in our face, to ruin what we had. I don’t want to lose you.”
He reaches for my hand and pulls me to him. “You are not going to lose me,” he says, peering down at me. “I promise.”
I want to believe him so badly. I need to believe him. “What if you lose me?”
He smiles at me, his grip hard. “Then I’ll just hold on tighter.”
I’m pulled closer to him and he opens the door, ushering me inside.
All the lights are off save for one in his kitchen to the left. The apartment gleams in the low light, the floors dark, walnut brown wood, and the walls painted a dark grey. Everything seems more mysterious, more dangerous now. This is no longer the apartment of my friend, this is the apartment of a man I don’t fully know yet.
He shuts the door behind me and then takes a step toward me until I’m up against the back of the door. He places his hands on either side of my head, braced against the door, and stares down at me, his lips just inches from mine, our noses almost touching.
I don’t breathe. I don’t move. I just stare at his full lips, at his searing eyes as they want, want, want. I am aware of what a large man he is, suddenly, like it had never occurred to me before. His hands, his arms, his shoulders, his chest, his height. He’s just so big and I feel so small, so easily ravaged.
I want to be ravaged.
He leans in a millimeter until the side of his nose gently brushes against the side of mine. “This moment,” he says, his voice hoarse, and closes his eyes. “This moment.”
It is a moment. And before I can ponder just what kind of moment it is to him, he leans in and kisses me. It’s very soft, light, like feathers. It’s a tease of a kiss, an aperitif before the meal. And yet for all its warmth and gentleness, the way his lips linger luxuriously on mine, it undoes me. As if I were held together with string, this kiss is the knife that slowly cuts me loose.
I’m just about to open mouth, to take in more of him, when he pulls back an inch. He whispers against my mouth, “I’m taking this slow. I’ve waited far too long for this to be over in a minute.” He slips his hand behind my neck and grips me there. “I’m going to relish every inch of your body until you’re begging for release. Then, I’m going to fuck you so hard, so good, that you’ll still feel me inside you days later.”
I am weak, pliable putty. I lack thought and control. I am just body and blood and need. He bends down and scoops
me up into his arms and carries me down the hall like I weigh nothing at all. I am just a girl in his strong arms.
In his bedroom, light from streetlamps floats in through the gauzy curtains and illuminates his bed. It looks like a landing pad.
He gently lays me down on the white duvet, black sheets underneath, and stands at the foot of bed. He pulls his shirt off over his head, discarding it on the floor beside him.
I’ve seen Linden with his shirt off before but this is the first time I’ve been freely allowed to ogle him. I mean, how can you not? It’s a wonder I didn’t run my hands all over him before, lick him from head to toe.
Though the light is dim, his chest is wide and firm with a smattering of well-groomed, Hugh Jackman-ish chest hairs, his shoulders are round and sculpted and his arms are like tree trunks, laced with ropey muscles. His abs are defined and shadowed – a definite six-pack – leading to those sexy, deep hip bones that angle in toward his pelvis. I can’t keep my eyes off of him, off of each hardened, masculine part that makes up this beast of a man.
I want the weight of him on my body, I want to feel every part of him with my fingers, my tongue, my lips. I want him so fucking much that I’m almost shaking from the need of it all.
He watches me watching him, a faint smirk on his lips, and he slowly unzips his jeans. They fall to the floor, showing off his muscular thighs. He is wearing dark boxer briefs that hug his body and I can see every rigid line of his erection as it strains against the fabric.
Holy sweet lord.
He grabs his cock for a second and gives it a squeeze. My jaw comes unhinged. Then he pulls off his briefs and for a moment he is standing there, full frontal with his cock jutting out in front of him and on complete display.
His dick is perfect. Just fucking perfect. I can’t stop staring at it. It’s not just that it’s massive (and in a good way, not in a spearing your uterus kind of way), but that it’s smooth and thick and long and hard and perfectly proportioned. It’s the most gorgeous penis I’ve ever seen and it makes me wish I could paint because I could have a whole gallery devoted to the beauty of his dick and I would consistently sell out of all my paintings.
“Like what you see?” he asks. Now he’s smirking.
“I don’t know, I may need a better look,” I tell him and automatically sit up and lean over, putting my hands on either side of his smooth hips and pulling him toward me. I wrap my hands around his thickness. His cock feels like the hardest velvet and I know I’m looking crazed, horny and greedy. It’s hard to fathom how fast we’ve gone from best friends to dick-holding but none of it seems wrong in the slightest.
In fact, I’m already mourning the fact that we should have done this sooner.
“Your turn,” he says and I realize that while he’s buck naked in all his glory, I’m completely clothed. I’m not minding this turn of events, but I also know the sooner I have my clothes off, the sooner he can ravish me. And judging by the look in his eyes, that’s exactly what he’s going to do.
I lean back a bit, conscious of any stomach rolls and thankful that the light in here is dim and flattering, and try to artfully remove my top. But he is quicker. He rips the shirt off and throws it across the room, then spends exactly one second staring at my breasts, before he removes my bra. My breasts spill free, feeling heavy, and he moans, pleased, at the sight of my nipples hardening in the cool air.
“Just as I thought,” he murmurs. Then he is crawling on the bed, naked, and I am lying back underneath him. He dips his head and licks a path from the swell of my breasts in toward the nipple where his tongue teases and teases and teases in large circles, so hot, so wet.
While he squeezes my breast with one hand, flicking my nipple with his finger until I’m groaning from lust, his other hand unzips my pants and slides his hand in.
“Christ,” he whispers roughly, “you’re dripping wet.”
He swirls his finger against my clit and I raise my hips, wanting more. He obliges, sliding his fingers down until two of them are inside me while his thumb presses down in the right spot, making slow circles.
I suck in my breath, my body already rigid with tension. “If you keep that up, I’m going to come right here,” I manage to say.
“So, come,” he says, his lips now on my other breast. “I’m just going to make you come again anyway.”
“You sound so sure of yourself.”
He looks up at me, my nipple between his teeth, his gaze locked on mine and unwavering. I know that look. It’s Linden’s trademark – pure and utter confidence.
But I never really had any doubts.
He bites my nipple gently, then harder, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain. His fingers slide further in until they find the firm cushion of my G-spot and he applies pressure in a quick, tapping motion. I’m not even sure what’s going on but I can’t hold on for much longer. He brings his fingers back out of me and he only has to graze my clit before it triggers my release.
My back arches and he moans into my breast as the whole world swirls and I swan dive into a big pool of bliss, pure pleasure radiating out from every single bone.
“Oh god,” I moan as my hands grip the sheets. “Don’t stop.”
“I’m never stopping, baby. I’m going all night.”
The waves keep coming until the room begins to right itself again. Linden is still on top of me, his mouth trailing up from my glistening breasts toward my collarbone. He’s staring at me, almost in awe.
“What?” I ask him.
“Your face.”
I’m breathing hard, my face hot from orgasm. “What about my face?”
“I’ve just never seen you come before,” he says. “It’s more beautiful than I thought.” He moves up a bit, resting on his elbows on either side of my head, his hands sinking into my hair, nearly his full weight on me. His stomach is flush against my stomach, his cock digging into my pelvis. So simple yet so satisfying.
I’m not used to him paying me such compliments. “Don’t go all mushy on me,” I warn him, half-kidding.
“Baby,” he says, kissing my chin and pressing his weight on me. “Have you felt how hard I am? There ain’t a mushy bone in me.”
He’s right about that. Even though I’ve just come and my head is still swimming, I want nothing more than to open my legs wider and have him thrust inside.
As if he can tell that, he kisses me hard on the lips and then leans over to the bedside table. With the long reach of his arm, he pulls open a drawer and brings out a small box of condoms. He sits up, straddling my thighs, and I watch as he opens a condom packet and rolls it on to the rigid length of his cock, a sexy sight if I’ve ever seen one.
Though I am on the pill, I’m glad that he’s taking the initiative to be smart about this. It’s kind of weird, yet comforting, to be with someone when you know a lot of their history of relationships and one-night stands.
“You know when you grabbed me before?” he whispers. “Do it again. Guide me inside you.”
“Okay,” I say shyly. I bite my lip and smile up at him as he sucks in his abs so I can reach down. I wrap my fingers around his cock, spread my legs and guide him to the right spot. He closes his eyes and sucks in his breath before pushing inside.
I gasp. For a moment I feel like I’m splitting open but by the time he withdraws and pushes in again, my hips drop, my body relaxes and then conforms to him. He fits like a fucking glove inside me, so thick, making me feel so beautifully, wonderfully, impossibly full.
And then I’m suddenly so aware that Linden is inside me, Linden. We’re naked and he’s inside me and he’s actually fucking me on his bed.
Linden is fucking me.
God, he fucks good.
He groans in my ear with each slow, deliberate thrust. “You feel like honey,” he murmurs, biting down my lip before he groans again as he pushes into the hilt and holds it there for a few, torturous seconds. “So warm, so perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.” He pulls away to look at me “I can??
?t believe I have you.”
Haven’t you always had me? I want to say that to him. But then again, I’m not sure if I always knew that myself.
He slides himself in and out of me with ease, his breath quickening, the sweat and heat building between us. His cock fills me to the brim and his fingers act like they know my body better than I do. And all this time, Linden remains in control, the pace just perfect, alternating between fast and hard and achingly slow. I’m close to coming again, my neck arching back as he pulls out, then pushes in deep. In and out. In and out. Then he slows and pulls out entirely.
“Hold on,” he says gently as he takes his hand out from between my legs and trails it up my chest, my own wetness sticking to me. He lowers his head and licks it up until his mouth is between my breasts. “I love your taste,” he whispers. “So fucking good, baby.” Then he puts one hand under my shoulder and says, “Get on your stomach. Hips in the air.”
I’m not usually accustomed to changing positions during sex and he must see the worry on my brow because he smiles. “I told you I was going to take my time. You’re going to come again and when you do, you’re going to come hard. Trust me.”
I guess I’m all right with that. I turn over and he puts his hands on either side of my waist, pulling my ass toward him as he inches forward. “That’s it baby, just like that,” he whispers, squeezing my skin.
He guides himself in with ease and from this angle everything changes. He leans forward, his hard, damp chest pressing against my back, and whispers in my ear, “Lie down on your chest, as low as you can go. Keep your ass up.”
He pulls me up more and pushes in.
Oh, Jesus.
Remember when I was talking about James, and how one of the reasons I probably stayed with him was because the sex was great? You know, that magic piercing he has to hit that special spot?
Well, Linden doesn’t have a magic piercing but I’m starting to think his dick is magic because it’s hitting something that’s immediately making my knees want to buckle.
“That’s it,” he says and starts rubbing my clit while he moves in and out. Every time he’s in, I can’t help but gasp. Then the gasps turn to moans and my breathing is out of control and he’s pushing, thrusting, drilling into me from behind. The room fills with the sharp hiss of his breath, his groans of lust, his thighs slapping the back of mine.