Chapter Eight

Calla

The man had driven me to the point that I felt as if I was being pulled in a million different ways. I was panting like a dog that had been running. My nerves felt raw. Every scrape of his hand over my body had me jerking under his touch. I was desperate to join with him. I needed to feel his dick inside me, stretching me. The man was hung like a horse, a detail I remembered quite vividly.

That first time, I too had been a virgin. I knew that most girls having their first sexual experience probably would have been intimidated. I didn’t have the chance to be afraid of him fitting. He had plunged inside me before I could freak out over our disproportionate sizes. He fit just fine. Better than fine. Remembering the way he had thrust his hips triggered a violent response. I rocked against him.

His hand moved up my back, his fingertips pressing into my skin through the thick sweater. I wiggled my hips, encouraging him to take off some clothes. I wanted to be bare. I could feel the fabric between my legs getting soaked. I couldn’t remember ever getting this excited or wet with another man, especially not Blake. Blake could barely make me climax. Jake had me on the edge with just his words.

I moaned into his mouth, pushed my breasts against his chest to the point it hurt and silently begged. I knew it was not dignified, but I didn’t care.

“Calla,” he breathed my name a second before he lunged forward, twisted with my body draped against his and slammed me onto the couch.

“Jake,” I said his name, not hiding the excitement I felt.

His large body pressed against me, pushing my back into the soft couch cushions. My legs wrapped around his hips, my heels digging into his butt, driving him against me. I relished the feel of his weight, loving the way I he completely covered me with his body.

“Do you want me?” he asked in a strained voice, going up on one elbow.

“Yes!” I nearly screamed. “Yes, Jake. I want you.”

He kissed a trail over my jaw and down my neck, stretching his sweater away from my shoulder and kissing my collar bone. It felt as if he was searing me, branding me with those hot, wet kisses. I arched against him, cursing the clothing between us. If he didn’t take it off soon, I was going to start ripping fabric.

The kisses were good enough—for now. The man was a fucking genius with that tongue of his. I wanted it elsewhere, but I would enjoy the kissing. We could take it slow. We had all night, I reminded myself. For now, I would let myself fall into those panty-melting kisses.

“No!” I cried out when he pulled away from me, unceremoniously pushed my feet off the end of the couch and sat back where he had just been sitting. “Jake?”

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“I’m not. Jake,” I hoped to explain myself.

He ran a hand through his hair and then over his face as if he was wiping away what had just happened. I couldn’t move. I lay there panting, wanting to cry at the loss of his lips from mine. This wasn’t over. I sat up, straightened the sweater and moved back to my side of the couch. Maybe he preferred a bit more of a challenge and I had ruined it by literally throwing myself at him.

“I don’t know what that was,” he said, moving his other hand through his long hair.

It was only a little mussed from my jumping him. I liked it wild and untamed, just like I liked the man.

“That was, it was, spontaneous,” I said, for lack of a better word.

There was a harsh chuckle. “Was it?” he asked, heavy on the sarcasm.

“Yes,” I said, feeling the need to defend myself. The man acted like I had planned to attack him.

Okay, maybe I did, but he didn’t need to call me out on it. That wasn’t cool.

I could feel the tension between us ratcheting up. It pushed out the passion that had just been there. I wanted the passion back. The tension was making things awkward. I didn’t like awkward. It felt very next morning-like. I refused to feel weird and awkward when I didn’t get the benefit of sex.

“It was delicious,” I murmured.

“I don’t know anything about you. I mean, I don’t know if you are married or single or what,” he said, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe what had almost happened. “That was a mistake.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, once again defending myself.

I wasn’t going to volunteer any information about my personal life. I had a feeling he would not be okay with the Blake situation.

Giving up wasn’t something I did. I was tenacious and crazy horny. An idea sprang to mind. We were still in our game. One question did not make a game of Truth or Dare. It was my turn. I knew exactly what I was going to choose

“Your turn,” I said.

“What?”

“It’s your turn to ask me. The game, remember?” I reminded him. “You’re not going to give up already, are you? I think you still owe me a turn.”

The man looked scared. I almost cracked up at the thought of a man his size, being afraid of a little game. What did he honestly think was going to happen?

“Oh. Yeah, I forgot. Uh, truth or dare?” he asked, a little hesitantly.

“Dare,” I breathed out.

His eyes widened in surprise.

Butterflies in my stomach flitted about as I waited for his dare. I was counting on something terribly wicked. I was ready. I would comply with any demand, no matter how kinky it was or how far it pushed me out of my comfort zone. I was ready to abandon all my inhibitions for him. He brought out that animal I kept tucked away like a proper girl should. I had been brought up right, but walking on the wild side was far more fun than the standard perfectly appropriate sex.

I waited for him to give me my orders. He was dragging it out. I had a feeling he was doing it on purpose. He was making me wait. My pussy clenched in anticipation. I just knew it was going to be something that gave us both great pleasure.

He leaned forward, closing the distance between us. My breath hitched as I waited for his lips to touch mine.

“I dare you not to fall for me,” he whispered, his lips close to mine, but never touching. He paused, his breath washing over my lips. I parted my lips, waiting for the kiss I knew was coming.

In an instant, he stood and walked to the kitchen counter and blew out the candles. He threw a couple logs on the fire, then locked the front door. I waited. He was just getting things taken care of before we got things started. That was good. He was going to give me his full attention. He paused, looked down at me and grinned. The faint glow from the small candles burning on the coffee table softened his sharp features.

Then, as if something called him, he turned and walked away. I stood there staring at his back. My mouth was hanging open. What the hell?

“Good night,” he said, in a voice filled with laughter.

“What?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer. I didn’t expect him too.

I turned the words over in my mind several times. His dare hadn’t made any sense. My brain refused to accept the words. I had been prepared for something perfectly naughty. I had been sorely disappointed for more reasons than one. With the way he had responded to my kiss, I was convinced I was going to get laid. His dare was stupid, I pouted. That wasn’t a dare at all.

The dog sighed, drawing my attention.

“What are you looking at?” I grumbled.

He was smiling. I knew the damn dog was smiling at me. Laughing because I had gotten all worked up, then left high and dry. Well, not so dry. I was wet and swollen and in desperate need of release.

“I could walk in there,” I hissed at the dog. “He wouldn’t deny me if I stripped and crawled into bed with him.”

I considered the idea. Was I brave enough? My need burning inside me said that I was. Maybe that was exactly what I should do. I could get what I wanted and then crash on the couch. I would leave in the morning and never look back.

Or, another idea sprang to mind. A far more vengeful option. One that would leave me in the driver’s seat. I could waltz in there, naked and wanting, get him worked up and walk away. It would serve him right. I wanted him to be aching with need. A smile crossed my face. He hadn’t been completely unaffected by the kiss. I had felt his hardness. I hoped he had blue balls.

I stood up, and knowing it was over, waved the white flag. I blew out the last few candles before flopping back down on the couch. I was beyond frustrated. Pulling the blanket up to my chin, I closed my eyes. I still felt tingly, but my raging hormones had slowed a bit. I was no longer feeling quite so primed. His denial had left me a little hurt, stealing away some of my earlier desire. Not all, but enough.

Go to sleep, Calla.

It had been a stupid game. I couldn’t believe I had thought a game would get him to fuck me. I should have stuck with a more direct approach. Tomorrow, I would be gone and never have to see Jake again. This night would be nothing more than a distant memory. Unlike the first memorable night I had experienced with Jake, this night would not be pulled out of my memory vault and savored. This night would never be talked about or thought about again, I silently vowed.

There was one minor detail that needed to be addressed. My absolutely need to get off. There was an option. Not exactly the best option, but it would have to do. I was too old to drift into a bar and pick up a one-night-stand.

I turned to glare at the dog. “Well, it’s my best shot.”

The dog didn’t bother to lift his head or even thump his tail.

“Whatever,” I mumbled, then rolled over, my face towards the back of the coach.

I would find Blake, get him liquored up and take advantage of him. I knew it wouldn’t get me the satisfaction I was looking for, but it would take the edge off.

Damn Jake for getting me so worked up.