“Anders,” I say his name as he's drilling between my legs again. Any other time, I'd only be thinking about the heat of our coupled parts, the way his cock feels as it pumps in and out of me. Tonight though, I'm wondering what his last name is.
I'm on my hands and knees in my bedroom, staring at my chest of drawers as he latches onto my hips and claims me from behind. It feels amazing, but my mind just isn't into it. I'm thinking of too many other things. What's his full name? What does he do for a living? Where does he live? What does he enjoy in his leisurely time? I literally know nothing about him aside from the fact that he likes to fuck and his first name is Anderson. We're supposedly in a relationship, and I know nothing about him.
I want to stop him, want to put an end to our fucking so that I can quiz him, but it feels too good. My body won't allow it. I've been craving him ever since we were last together. All I can do is hope that he doesn't try to run off after we finish, like he always does.
My breasts swing heavily below me, and I reach a hand around to pinch and tease one of my nipples, sending shuddering pleasure down to my spread pussy. The feel of his balls pounding against my clit is enough to drive me to climax.
“God your body is so fucking sweet,” he tells me.
I let out a soft moan as the contractions roll through me. “Don't stop. Keep going.”
“It would kill me to stop.”
But would it kill you to tell me your full name?
“Fuck, I can't handle much more,” he warns.
My orgasm is still rolling through me as I feel him tense, gripping my hips so tightly that I worry I might bruise. It's fulfilling to know that we both climaxed at almost the same time. I just wish I was clearheaded enough to appreciate it more.
“What's your last name?” I ask him the second he slips out of me.
“What?” he's completely breathless.
“Your name. Your first name is Anderson. What's your last name?”
“Eddy,” he replied without hesitation, pulling off the condom and throwing it into the waste basket.
“Eddy,” I repeat the name slowly. “Your last name sounds like your first name, and your first name sounds like a last name. You don't look like an Eddy though.” I sit back on my heels, eying him, trying to picture him as an Edward.
“Well, that's my name. Anderson Eddy.”
I frown as he starts putting on his clothes. It's a repeat of the last time he was over. Of every time we've ever been together. Now that we're done fucking, he's lost interest in me.
“So, Anderson Eddy, what do you do for a living?” I decide to milk him for as much information as I can while he's still around.
“I work.” It's the same response he gave me at The Billionaires Club. Nothing has changed. Oh well. Now that I have his full name, at least I can Google him.
“But not at The Billionaires Club,” I say, wondering if he's forgotten our arrangement.
“Not at The Billionaires Club.” He doesn't even look at me when he says it. I can't tell if he's lying or not.
“I want to know everything about you,” I tell him bluntly.
“All in good time.” He gives me a kiss on the cheek, and then he's out the door again.
***
“In and out like The Flash,” Evelyn says dryly as soon as the front door closes behind Anders. This is the first time he's come over when she's been home, not counting the time she walked in on us at the apartment.
“His name is Anderson Eddy,” I say triumphantly. I have to make her believe that our relationship is progressing in a normal direction. She's not buying it though.
“Mister Anderson Eddy sure knows what he wants.” She rolls her eyes at me.
“Come Google him with me.” I grab her by the hand and pull her to my room.
When we get to the door, she flinches back a bit. “Good God, it smells like you guys fucked for days in here.”
“Sorry.” I blush, quickly moving to grab a can of lavender scented air freshener and spray the room.
“I'm just messing with you,” she teases me. “I can't really smell it, but boy could I hear it.”
My cheeks grow a shade darker. We weren't being that loud, I didn't think. At least, I wasn't. Anders didn't seem to care who was listening.
I grab my laptop off my desk and set it on my lap. We sit together on the bed as I flip it open and type his name into the search engine. What comes up is completely unexpected. Image after image of him in swimwear and underwear. Evelyn and I both sit with our mouths agape as we scroll through the seemingly endless pages of scantily-clad images.
“Holy shit. He's an underwear model,” she whispers. “You've been fucking an underwear model. Oh my God, are those really his abs?”
“Those are really his abs.” I nod, my mind completely blown.
“And . . . I've got to ask, because he fills those underwear well.”
“Yes,” I say, predicting her next question. “It's really that big.”
“Holy shit. Why wouldn't he tell you this is what he does for a living?”
“I have no idea.”
“Sorry. I'm drooling on myself.” She wipes her mouth with the back of her arm, and I can't help but laugh.
I move back over to the web search section and click on the first three links. Through them, I learn that he's thirty-two years old, owns twenty-two gyms, and has his own line of fitness products. No wonder the guy is built like a statue. Apparently, the modeling was from earlier in his career, but he still looks just as delicious in person as he does in any of his pictures.
“Why wouldn't he tell you this?” her voice is full of disbelief. “What girl wouldn't want to know she's dating a model?”
“I don't know, but I'm going to find out.”
***
I feel absolutely giddy as I dial his number. I still can't believe that plain ordinary me is dating a mega-rich underwear model and fitness expert. It seems so surreal. When he doesn't answer, I leave a message, trying not to seem completely starstruck and stupid.
“Hey, Anders. So, I Googled your name, and I was really surprised at what I found. Call me.” Click.
My heart is racing, but I don't know why. The excitement of what I found is almost more than I can handle. Like a lovesick fool, I wait by the phone. Whenever he gets out of his meeting, he'll call me. I'm sure of it. This is the first time I've ever called his phone, so it will probably be a pleasant surprise for him.
The night rolls on, and eventually my hope wanes. He's a busy man. How can he not be, running twenty-two gyms? He'll call me whenever he finds time, I decide.
I don't get a call from him that night. Or the next night either. Worried, I send him a text. He never responds to it. The week rolls on, and I wonder what in the hell is going on.
***
A week has passed since I've heard anything from Anders, and I'm heartbroken all over again. He never meant anything he said. He just fucked me and ran. The sex was all he ever cared about.
It doesn't matter anymore. It's over. I have to see that. I have to believe that so I can move on. There's no point in waiting for a man who can't even bother to return a fucking phone call.
My only consolation is that this time he's the one who ended it. Not me. That's how I know he won't be coming back. That thought hurts almost more than anything else.
Evelyn throws an 'I told you so' at me, but for the most part, she's supportive.
“You need to forget about him,” she tells me. “Weren't you going to start going out with that Ryan guy anyway?”
Ryan. I feel like such a bitch. I've been avoiding him ever since Anders showed up at my door. My responses to his texts have been brief, and I've made an excuse every time he's wanted to get together. Not anymore though. I need to forget about Anders. Dating an underwear model was just too good to be true. I belong with the regular population, dating someone who is actually in my league.
The weekend is quickly approaching, and I decide to text Ryan to see if he wants to get together. He seems absolutely elated at the prospect, and we set up a time to meet at a local bar for drinks. Hopefully, I won't be too much of a Debbie Downer. He doesn't deserve that. Doesn't deserve for me to be thinking about someone else while I'm with him.
I decide to dress like I'm going on a hot date, putting on a cute blue and white cap sleeve dress with pleats and matching it with a pair of strappy silver heels that I've only worn once before. I curl my long brown hair and do my makeup, wanting to look like a vision for him. It makes me feel better to get all dolled up. He'll appreciate it. He's the kind of guy who notices things like that.
About ten minutes before I'm supposed to leave, the doorbell rings. Evelyn knocks on my door to tell me it's for me. For a moment, I wonder if Ryan changed his mind and decided to come pick me up, but then I remember he doesn't have my address.
“Is it him?” I ask Evelyn before her and her frown have a chance to leave me in suspense.
She nods curtly, not bothering to hide her displeasure.
My heart hammers in my chest as I take long strides towards the front door. Anders is standing on the other side with one of his panty melting smiles. My lips couldn't scowl any deeper if they wanted to, and they do want to.
“What do you want?” I practically spit at him.
“You look lovely.” His eyes scan me up and down, and I see his expression darken. He's thinking about sex. He's always thinking about sex.
“You didn't return any of my calls.” I close the door behind us so that Evelyn won't have to hear me yelling at him.
“I was away on business,” he says nonchalantly, moving forward to wrap one of his arms around my waist.
“Does that mean that your fucking phone was broken?” I pull away from him, seething with anger.
“Hey now, what's wrong?”
I can't believe he's playing innocent. There's no doubt in my mind he knows exactly why I'm ticked off at him. If he came here thinking he was going to get laid, he's sorely mistaken.
“You know what, forget it. You're not worth my time.” I turn to go back inside the house, and he grabs me by the waist, pulling me against him.
“Stop it,” he says authoritatively.
“Anders, let me go.” I try to wiggle out of his grasp.
“Never. I'll never let you go.” His breath is hot against my neck. His lips are already on me, kissing my hair, my neck. I just want to get away from him.
“I'm fucking serious,” I growl, trying to pry his hand off of my waist.
“How can you possibly expect for me to let you go when you look like this.” He nibbles on my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine. My mind flashes back to all the images of him in underwear, and I feel my loins pulse in want. No. You can't want that. You can't want him. Not after what he's done to you.
“We're over,” I tell him, finally managing to struggle free.
“We're not over until I say we're over.” He looks at me coolly. I can't believe his arrogance.
“You don't own me, Anderson,” I use his full name to show him I mean business.
“You own me. I've missed you so much.” He steps up to me again, towering over me, his voice low and seductive. I feel weak and small beneath his opposing frame.
“If that was true, then you would have answered your phone,” I mumble, looking away from him.
“I have two phones, Tessa. One for business and one for pleasure. When I go on business trips, I turn the one for pleasure off. You've never called me before, so I didn't expect that you would call me. I thought it would be okay to leave it behind.” He reaches a hand up to cup my cheek. I want to resist him, but I don't. His skin feels too good against mine. I've missed this so much.
“By pleasure, you mean you have a phone filled with the numbers of all the girls you fuck,” I say bitterly, jerking my face out of his grasp.
“By pleasure, I mean it has the names of all of my family and friends and the people I care about.”
He has me backed up against the door. Part of me hopes that Evelyn or Martin will come out and rescue me. I don't think I'll be able to get away from him otherwise. I'm not strong enough.
“I missed you, Tessa. Please don't deny me your touch.” He leans down to kiss me. I don't pull away.
***
How did I end up like this again? My mouth is so full of his cock that I'm almost suffocating on it. His hand is tangled into my hair, and he's ramming himself into me with such force that I feel like I might choke. He hisses in pleasure, mumbling about how good it feels, about how no one can suck his dick like I can.
I work the base with my hand as I drive him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around his leaking tip. He's so hard for me, so gorgeously hard. I love his cock. I could suck it all day.
“I've missed your lips on me,” he confesses, tilting his head to the side and moaning shamelessly.
My lips have missed being on him, have missed tasting him. This time, I'm determined to feel him come. I cup his balls and lick up and down his length before impaling myself on his shaft again. I take him so deep within me, so deep that I might devour him.
“Fucking amazing,” he whispers. “You've need this just as badly as I have.”
“Yes,” I mumble around his thick member.
“I want to be inside you, Tessa. Need to be inside of you.”
“Not tonight,” I tell him quickly. I need this more, but I'm not sure why. Maybe I'm secretly doing it to protect myself, because I know that if I let him inside of my body, he'll take another piece of my soul next time he leaves me. He's killing me slowly, and he doesn't even care.
“Please, Tessa. I have to have you.”
“I want you to come in my mouth.”
If I told any other guy that, he'd jump for joy, pounding into my face until I finished him off. Not Anders though. Anders is greedy. Anders is wanton. Anders is . . .
“I'll give it to you. I promise. But you have to give me what I want too.” He urges me up off the floor, and I pout. I'm pretty sure he's going to fuck me now, but instead he picks me up and carries me to the bed, throwing me down on the mattress so hard that I bounce, and it squeaks. Before I even have a chance to regain my bearing, he's spreading my legs and shoving his face between them. I cry out as his tongue deftly sweeps across my swollen bud.
“Oh fuck.” My hands wrap into his hair. It feels so good that my hips arch, and I practically bury him in my folds.
“Yes. Yes, Tessa. Let me taste you,” he mumbles against my heated sex, licking and sucking and teasing until my legs tremble from pleasure.
“Oh God, Anders,” I call out his name and then instantly cup my hand over my mouth. That was definitely loud enough for Evelyn and Martin to hear from the living room. I couldn't stop it though. It feels too good. He feels too good.
He plunges two fingers inside of me, pulsing them in and out while he sucks on my clit. My entire body caves into orgasm, and I pull roughly on his hair before shoving him deeper against me. In that moment, he's my fuck toy. I'll pretend that I'm using him, even if it isn't true.
He emerges from between my legs and immediately positions himself beside me, pushing his cock into my waiting channel. My body squeezes around him as he starts to thrust, and a new pleasure fills me, that which comes from being connected to him so intimately.
“It's so good,” I moan as he bucks into me.
“Fucking perfect,” he agrees. “We're perfect together. Nothing has ever made me feel so good.”
I don't know if I should believe him or not, but I decide to let his words carry me to paradise. His pace is hurried, and I know he won't last long.
“I need to taste you,” I remind him.
“Of course you do,” he sounds absolutely smug. “Take my load.”
When he pulls out of me, I half-expect to have to take the condom off of him, but then I realize he's not wearing one. It's the first time ever he hasn't worn a condom with me. I can't help but wonder if he planned it this way, or if he just got caught up in the moment.
It doesn't matter. What matters is me feeling him come.
I twist around on the bed so that I'm eye-level with his cock. There's a sheen of my juices left behind from our coupling, but I don't care. I take him into my mouth and suck like I mean it, fondling his balls and pushing him all the way to the back of my throat. He grabs the sides of my head and helps me out, pumping himself into my mouth. I can feel him swelling, his body reaching its limits.
“Oh fuck, I'm going to come. Drink it all. It's all for you, baby,” he tells me right before I feel his balls constrict in my hand and the heavy flow shoot through his member. I swallow heartily, making sure I don't miss a single drop. By the time he's drained dry, we're both panting. I give his tip a few more cursory licks before I climb back up beside him on the bed.
“You're incredible. Fucking incredible. Did you know that?” he says as he pulls me into his arms.
I'm completely shocked. This is . . . cuddling. He's cuddling me. He's actually fucking cuddling me. My heart jumps in elation, but I try to stifle my excitement. This probably won't last long. The second he realizes what he's doing, he'll push me off of him and start getting dressed.
“So you're an underwear model,” I muse, trying to savor the moment for as long as possible. Maybe if I keep him distracted, he won't feel the need to ditch me right away.
“Was an underwear model,” he corrects me. His hand lazily rubs my shoulder. It feels absolutely amazing just being touched by him.
“And now you run a bunch of gyms and sell your own line of fitness products.”
“Yes.”
He doesn't seem to want to talk about it. I wish he would be more open about his life, but at least I know more about him than I used to.
“And you'll call me from now on whenever you're going on a business trip, or at least text me to let me know I won't be able to get a hold of you,” I say.
“Yes,” he replies absentmindedly. Then he stands up and starts getting dressed.