Bomb: A Day in the Life of Spencer Shrike

I lean into her neck and kiss the soft skin, right under her ear.

She shudders.

“Oh, hell,” she sighs. “Maybe you should stop.”

I pull back immediately. “I will if you really want me to. But Veronica—” I reach up to turn her chin towards me. She has to reposition herself a little to look me in the eye. “Don’t say no because it’s expected of you. Or because you’re afraid I might hurt you. Or because it’s too soon. Because you’re mine, baby. I knew the moment I saw you last week, outside the bookstore having it out with your brother over something. I watched you stand your ground and toss your hair at the same time. And I told myself, She’s mine. I need her. I don’t know her, but I will. And now I do. And I want you. Not just for tonight, not for just a weekend, not for just this semester to pass the time, not just to get some kickass ink on my body. I want you for all those things, but I want them indefinitely.”

She lets out a long breath. “Holy shit, that’s sorta deep. What’s that even mean? Indefinitely?”

“It means I’m here, for as long as you want me.”

“But you don’t even know me, Spencer.”

“I’ve watched you for weeks. I know all I need to know.”

She’s silent for a moment, and then she stands up and turns around and straddles the long black leather seat, facing me. “What do you want me to say?”

I smile. “When I ask if I can touch you tonight, I want you to say yes. When I ask if I can kiss you tonight, I want you to say yes. When I ask if I can have you tonight, I want you to say yes. Just say yes, Ronnie. I want you to say yes. One word, that’s it. One word is all it takes. And I really will change your life.”

Her eyes dart back and forth, searching my face. I can almost hear her thoughts. Running all the questions through her mind, past conventional expectations. Past her father’s opinion of her. Past her brothers’ reactions if they find out she gave in to me after knowing me less than twenty-four hours.

And then she closes her eyes and whispers, “Yes.”

I rub her bare thighs, causing her to shiver, and then I grab the hem of her tank top and lift it over her head, revealing her br**sts, perfectly cradled inside a lacy pink bra. “I knew it would be pink,” I whisper as I toss the shirt and pull her chest right up to mine. “I’ve pictured you in this moment a thousand times over the past few weeks, and those fantasies don’t even come close to how beautiful you look to me right now.”

Her perfectly manicured fingernails grab the hem of my shirt next. I let her do it herself because she drags those nails up my abs and then pushes it over my head, leaning in, pressing her br**sts up against me. I grab her around the waist again, pulling her fully into me, my mouth on hers, probing with my tongue. She parts her lips, allowing me entrance, suddenly panting from her rapidly racing heart.

My hand goes to her chest so I can feel the thumping I’ve created, then I slip her bra down over her soft mounds and squeeze. “Your tits are f**king fabulous. I’d like to stick my dick between them and f**k your mouth at the same time.”

She gasps as her eyebrows hike up. “Oh, my God!”

“Do you like the dirty talk, Bombshell? Does it turn you on?”

She looks like she wants to reply, but words evade her, so she simply nods.

“I’ll keep it to myself if it bothers you, but you should know, my mind will be thinking these dirty things every time I’m around you, Bombshell. Because once I have this”—I look hungrily down at her body—“I’ll never forget it. I will undress you, reliving the scent of your pu**y, every time I see you. My fingers will be reliving how I make your ni**les bunch up against my touch. My c**k will be reliving how good it feels when you clamp yourself around me.”

“Oh, my God!” she moans. “Don’t stop talking. Holy f**k, Spencer. Please, don’t stop! I like it.”

I unbutton her little jean shorts and smack her thigh. “Stand up and take these off.”

She stands up and swings her leg over the bike seat, then shimmies her hips until the shorts fall to the ground around her wedge-heeled sandals. She kicks them off to the side and stands in front of me. “Now you, Spencer.”

I shoot her a crooked, devious, filthy grin. “Now me, what?” I growl. “If you want something from me, you have to ask for it. And if you expect me to deliver, you better be descriptive.”

She blushes and my wood is petrified, that’s how f**king hard I am for this girl. She doesn’t ask, she just takes. She slips out of her panties and straddles the bike again, her legs open and her wet pu**y exposed. She goes for the button on my jeans and I stop her hand.

“You want my cock, Ronnie? You want me to take it out and f**k your tits and your mouth?”

She pants harder now. “Yes.”

“Say it, Bomb. Tell me why you want it, or I won’t give it to you. I’ll tease you and leave you to suffer. If you want me, you have to ask for it. You have to ask for it the exact way you want it, Veronica. If you want my c**k in your mouth, tell me. If you want my c**k between your perfect tits, say it. If you want to suck me until I come down your throat—fuck, baby. Just ask. I’m ready.”

She stares up at me, her ragged breath a total betrayal of her desires. But I stay still and quiet as I wait her out.

“I want you,” she finally whispers. “I want—” She stops to swallow hard and closes her eyes. Her cheeks flush red with embarrassment, but she forces the words out anyway. “I want your c**k between my tits, Spencer. I want you to f**k me in my mouth.” She squeezes her tits together and wiggles her pu**y against the hard thickness pressing up against my jeans.