Chapter Two
The Scorcher
I turn away, knowing if I keep staring at his beautiful body, the chiseled abs, that cut line trailing toward where his cock is hidden—the line I thought was a myth in real men—I’ll never be able to form a cohesive, sensible sentence.
“Why is it so cool in here?” I ask, needing to think about anything other than his increasingly naked body.
“I’ve had my window unit A/C blasting all weekend, it will take a little while for the chill to dissipate completely. Why aren’t you looking at me?”
I walk to his bookcase, then back toward the herb garden.
“That’s smart. I should have bit the bullet and installed an A/C when I heard what this weekend would be like. You’re always a step ahead of the curve.”
“Faye, stop pacing—”
“Wow, your herbs have grown so much since I was over last.” My voice sounds like a Barbie doll’s would, peppy and fake. “When do you think they’ll be ready?”
“Faye.” His hands grab my shoulders from behind, stopping me from making another turn. “Don’t you want to look at me?”
“I—I—yes. But...”
“Are you shy? After the shower affair?”
I snort. “I call it the shower incident. And that...I—I never intended for you to hear me, to know I was listening.” I cover my face. “Fuck, this is so embarrassing. I shouldn’t have come over here. I don’t know why I did.”
“I know why.” He hugs me tight, wrapping his arms across my chest and stomach. His bare chest is so warm against my back. I can feel his nipples over my shoulder blades.
“Why?” I can’t help but lean into him, rub against his smooth skin.
“Because you want to know what it feels like to have my cock inside your pussy. And I’ll tell you what, it will be better than any vibrator you use to get yourself off.”
Warm heat fills my cunt.
“How did you know I was using a vibrator?”
“I heard it the second you turned it on, why did you think I was jerking off? I knew what you were doing and the thought was driving me fucking batshit crazy. I don’t think I’ve ever been that hard. Then I heard your sexy whines and moans and, well, you know the rest.”
“When we first met I never thought you’d be this way.”
“What way?” He nuzzles my neck, licks where the dress strap sits on my shoulder.
“So dirty and unashamed by it.”
“You know me, you know all my quirks and weirdness. It’s easy to let go around you.” A long hard length pushes against the thin material of my dress. “But I’ve been wanting to let go in a different way since the moment I met you.”
He starts to turn me around but I grip his arms and stay put, shaking my head. He lets me be, understanding I need a little more time.
“Remember the first day we met? I called you pretty and you got mad at me for it?”
“I’m not comfortable with strangers giving me compliments.”
“I realized that. How would you feel if I gave you a compliment right now?”
“I don’t know, depends on what you say.”
His voice is a carnal whisper against my ear. “What I really wanted to say that day was you are the most stunningly sexy and beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Your hair, the way it kinks and curls down your pale skin makes me want to shove my hand into the strands and tug until you’re on your knees with your big lips around my cock. Oh, fuck, your lips. I dream about your lips, touching them, feeling them on my skin, kissing them.”
Without warning he tilts my head toward his and does exactly what he’s been dreaming of. What we’ve both been dreaming of.
The kiss is delicate and light, a bare skim of lips. At least for the first moment. After he pulls away and I look into his burnt amber eyes—truly, for the first time, seeing the way he looks at me, how he wants me as terribly as I want him—I turn around and tug his head down to mine with a hand on either side of his face.
He groans into the kiss, which I take full advantage of and push my tongue into his mouth. His hands grip my ass, lifting me till I’m on my tiptoes as his erection grinds against my lower belly.
“Faye,” he whispers when we pull away to breathe, just a scant second before I’m on him again, wrapping my arms around his neck and hitching a leg over his hip. He catches it, simulates exactly what he wants to do by pushing his cock against my covered pussy. His moves are sinuous, almost elegant, like he’s dancing with me to music only we can hear.
I pull away, not allowing myself a second to think or else I’ll run out the door faster than I can say fuck me harder, Batman. I sink to my knees and finish what he started, unzip his fly then tug his jeans down. Of course he’s not wearing underwear, proven by his cock popping out and nearly smacking me in the face.
And oh, what a beautiful sight it is. Thicker than I imagined, and not quite as long, it’s exactly what I’m craving right now. What I need to have in every part of my body that will take it. The purple vein beneath the mushroomed head is thick and enticing. A long bead of moisture curls from the slit, dripping down to the dense ridge. I grip him at the base and angle him toward my mouth.
His hand in my hair stops me, forces me to look up.
“That’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life, your mouth open, wanting to suck my cock. But I have to ask, Faye, is this what you want? Are you sure? We never had a talk about safety. I’m clean. I won’t put you at risk for anything. I’d never hurt you. I need you to know that.”
His babbling turns dear and my heart wrenches at the tender care he takes with me while gripping my hair so hard. I’m pretty sure he wants to fuck my face more than anything, which makes his self control and need to check in with me even more precious.
“I’m safe too, and I have an IUD.” I rub his cock from base to tip with my lips, kiss the head. “I’m going to give you the best head you’ve ever had.”
“That’s a pretty steep statement—Oh, holy mother of God.”
I take him down to the base and suck with everything I’m worth.
“Oh, this is not happening.”
I look up, amused and a little surprised by his exclamations. From what I’ve heard through the wall he’s all smooth talking, nothing unwieldy like the near stuttering and shocked curses I get now.
“God, baby, yes—wow—”
Wow?
“Your mouth, your lips, more beautiful and hotter than I ever imagined. Yeah, suck the head like that, use your tongue.”
There he is, I think as I swirl my tongue around the slit while using my hand to pump him. He just needed a little stimulation, or maybe he was overcome, like I am when I see the full picture of his body. I don’t know how to be suave in response to things I feel. Even first thing in the morning when we meet for our commute I’m still rendered speechless by the sheer beauty of him. He always starts the conversation, giving me time to warm up to him, to feel comfortable. But it’s hard to put aside his beauty and just focus on our friendship. I might never be able to say it out loud, talking about emotions a part of my kryptonite, but there was always more than just friendship from my side of the wall.
Maybe that’s what he’s feeling now. And if that’s the case, what will it mean when all this is over? It’s one thing to come over here and fulfill a fantasy, but another thing entirely when taking into consideration the other person’s feelings. I never once thought how my being with Ben might affect him. I only thought of his sexual drive and how he’d want to make me submit—all fantasies rather than the reality of the man I’ve come to know and care for.
It was all about me, what I wanted and needed, my embarrassment after the shower incident. I never once stopped to think how he must have felt, me cutting him off without so much as a word after sharing such an intimate moment.
No more, I vow. Now it’s all about Ben and getting him to come and come and come.
I do everything I can to make it happen. I cup and massage his balls, I even suck on them a bit, use my hand to keep the stimulation going on his cock. He says my name over and over, and eventually grips my hair, pulling out the pins, and fucks into my mouth, but only after I beg for it.
His expression is fierce, almost scary in its intensity, but I love it all the more for that. I relax my jaw and let him thrust into me, gagging every now and then when he goes too far back. I clutch his hips, wordlessly urging him on, looking up at him as he controls every second of what we’re doing, until he unexpectedly pulls out and drops down to his knees.
I’m suddenly unsure. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No, that was the best head I’ve ever had. But after you told me you were clean and on birth control I can’t stop thinking of coming inside you. Before we even get there, I need to do something else I’ve been dreaming of.”
Before I have a chance to ask what he could possibly want more than sex, he removes my dress, then wrestles to get his jeans off. There’s a scar on his upper thigh. It’s wide and stretches from knee to hip, lighter than the rest of his skin. Other than that one mark, his body is perfection, and I feel the self-consciousness that has assailed my ego since puberty take over.
I cover my chest by crossing my arms but he shakes his head and undoes the concealing gesture.
“Don’t hide yourself. I meant what I said. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.” His mouth nuzzles the side of my breast, licking and nipping at the supple curve. His hand dips between my legs and plays with the petals of my pussy. “Yes,” he hisses. “So wet, just like I knew you’d be.”
“You did this to me.”
“Good.” He kisses me, lowers me to the ground, keeping one hand dancing on my cunt, immersing fingers inside to ease the growing pain yet taunt at the same time. The other moves over my breasts, playing with my nipple. A tug. Two. My breath shortens.
When his mouth leaves mine, I protest, tugging him back. He smiles but gives in to what I want. I’ve waited so long to have his lips on me, never thought it would happen, and now that he’s here I don’t want to let him go.
He pulls away and when I start to tug him back he says, “There are other places my mouth needs to be.”
“Where?” I feel like a dunce for asking it, but he only smiles—genuine and open—then starts a kiss-laden descent down my body. I feel him everywhere. My breasts, stopping there for quite a while to suck and nibble, my ribcage, my stomach. His tongue plunges into my navel, tickling. When he reaches my hipbone the sensuous fervor within has turned into an inferno. Then his tongue is on me, playing with my labia, kissing as if it were my mouth.
“You taste so good.” He sounds shocked and excited all at once, almost young, like he’s trying something new for the first time. Well, I guess he is. His raw wonder makes me laugh, too suffused with my own delight to allow any old insecurities to intrude on us.
“Laughing?” He shakes his head. “I must not be doing this right.”
It’s impossible to respond as the swirling flicks of his tongue render me speechless. I prop up on my elbows as he moves away long enough to brace my feet on his shoulders. He winks before ducking back down, using his tongue and adding fingers inside me to come at me from every angle.
It feels good, so good the orgasm has built to the edge of the cliff. But I can’t make it over, my body won’t fall. I pound the floor in frustration, keep my eyes shut tight, and try to concentrate everything I have on where his body meets mine.
But it won’t happen.
He can feel it too. Ben bites my inner thigh, snapping my eyes open. He’s looking up at me, understanding.
“Show me what you need. Tell me.”
I’m so torn up and feverish I throw any sense of shame left in my mind out the window and guide his head up a bit, directly over my clit.
“Lick it fast and light.”
God, I should be mortified by the things coming out of my mouth but really all I’m concerned with is coming. Which I start to do the second his tongue reaches precisely where I need. I hold his head to me, use the placement of my feet on his shoulders to press and lift my pulsing cunt into his face.
The orgasm shatters over me, rains excruciating pleasure across every inch of my body.
“Ben,” I pant, coming down from the climax. “Did that just happen? Oh, shit.”
My stunned exclamation makes him laugh as he lowers my shaking legs and climbs up my body. I think he’s going to kiss me, cuddle me. We can talk, it’s been so long since we’ve spoken. Now that we’ve indulged in each other maybe the night will be over and we can move on with our lives. We’ll have gotten each other out of our systems and things can go back to normal.
But his very hard penis resting against my abdomen reminds me he hasn’t come yet.
There I go again, being selfish.
“I’m such an asshole.”
“What?” he asks, lightly tugging on my nipple, so casually sending bursts of sensation across my body.
“You haven’t come yet.”
“That doesn’t make you an asshole. Making you come was the best thing that’s happened to me in months. Also you sucking my cock. I still haven’t gotten over that.”
And because I am an obdurate weirdo, I have to ask.
“What about that woman you brought home right after I moved in?”
He groans, knowing exactly what I’m talking about. At first I think it’s from embarrassment. He must understand by now I heard every second of that crazy rough sex. But it isn’t embarrassment or shame, it’s so much better.
“You drove me wild that night.”
“Wait—huh?” I sit up, bringing him with me. “You were with someone else. How did I have any part in that?”
He’s adorable and unbearably sexy as he smiles bashfully yet tugs at his cock, keeping it hard. How can this man be both sweet and dominant? He’s practically Jekyll and Hyde with these extreme dichotomies.
“I brought a woman home, trying to use up all the crazy energy being around you wrought, and then when I was just convincing myself I was turned on by her alone, the loudest vibrator I’ve ever heard filtered through the walls and you proceeded to come like four times in a row. Loudly.”
Five times. It was my best number. That vibrator I used is known for its powerful motor. Great for quick and dirty orgasms.
I cover my face, the embarrassment flooding my body like burning lava.
“I had a pillow over my head to muffle the sound.”
Ben pulls my hands away, his delight clear. “It did not help.”
“I don’t know how I feel about that,” I admit.
And Ben, dear, sweet, sexy, brilliant Ben, takes it in stride and backs off. He’s hard as a pipe and he backs off. It makes me want him more, in ways I’m scared will just screw up the easy friendship we’ve got going. He’s just too enticing to resist.
“That I heard you coming the first week we knew each other?”
“No. Well, yes, but the other thing too. You brought a woman home because you were so turned on by me your dick took over your brain and you had to have sex, no matter who with?” The more I elaborate, the bigger our smiles get, the absurdity of the situation refreshing. And sexy. And making me hot all over again.
“I couldn’t have you, so I found the next best thing.” He doesn’t waste another second before kissing me.
I lean into him, but I can’t stop thinking of the many, many times he’s heard me masturbate. When I imagine the sheer volume of orgasms I’ve had since meeting Ben I am appropriately shamed, and yet I only feel that way because he’s aware of my insatiable cravings. He must think I’m some sex-crazed lunatic, coming over here and jumping his bones without any consideration for what it will do to us in the long run.
“Hey,” he says, pulling away, rubbing my shoulder. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing. I’m good.”
Be cool. I’m cool. No panic happening here.
“If everything is good then why are your eyes shut tight like raisins?”
“My eyes don’t look like raisins.” I glance away so he can’t see my raisin eyes, my humiliation levels reaching peak mortification. Why can’t we go back to the sex? That didn’t involve self-consciousness.
“They do when they’re all scrunched up like that.” He dips his head down to catch my gaze. “Please look at me?”
Faye, thy name is avoidance, and the worst part is he knows it. Ben sees through my every hesitation and far away stare. He understands me. Hell, one time I stopped listening to him on the train and when he poked me to get my attention he correctly guessed I’d been daydreaming about donuts. When I asked him how he knew, he said we’d passed a new donut shop on the walk to BART and my eyes had gone as wide as a cartoon’s.
Ben notices me. He sees me. And it’s unnerving as hell. And awesome. And my heart and head are fighting for the title of most confused and uncertain body part with stakes in Faye’s sexual relationships.
“You having second thoughts?” He sits back on his heels, his mouth tightening in resignation. “That’s fine.”
It’s really not fine. He does not look fine. He looks as bunched up as my insides are.
“You came over, and I thought, this is it. She wants me. And I was so excited, I mean, I thought you were indifferent to me all this time then I heard you through the wall and it gave me a tiny shard of hope you might want me.”
“I—I—” The words get stuck in my throat, though a million thoughts race through my mind.
I want to say I’m embarrassed you’ve heard how greedy I am. I don’t want you to think I only see you as a sex object, and yet I’m terrified to ask for more. I can’t ask for more because it will complicate everything. I’ve done complication and have always come out worse for it.
The words are trapped inside and they’re not going anywhere.
He’s fidgeting, rubbing his head rapidly and pushing out long breaths. He gets this way when he thinks he’s done something wrong or offended me.
“This can stop right here,” he says abruptly. “If you’re going along just to please me, I don’t want that for us. Don’t choose something easy because it will spare our feelings. I’ll take it and, yeah, accepting your indifference is gonna hurt, but I value you too much to allow any space for regrets.”
It’s astounding how naturally he makes my happiness and well-being a priority. An unconditional respect shines through every tiny gesture and consideration.
As much as it hurts to get the words out I can’t let him drown anymore. He’s too good for me.
“How can you think I’m indifferent?” I shoot the words out like a cannonball. “Have you not seen me tripping over myself to act like a normal person around you? I had to restrain myself from inviting you over when we first met.” Only for Ben could I ever be this honest.
My blunt confession makes him pause, his expression openmouthed, shocked confusion.
“Wait, you...when we first met? All this time you were attracted to me?”
“I took one look at you and had to keep myself from visibly salivating. Every window we pass on our walk is an opportunity to look at my reflection and mop up drool.”
“That’s not—you’ve always been friendly and funny, but you’ve never flirted or hinted that you might want me. I didn’t feel like I could make a move until you came to me tonight.”
“Are you kidding? Do I need to remind you about all the masturbating?” I briefly glance at the ceiling in order to have some sort of respite while confessing. “So much masturbating, and while you were—” I wave at his groin, unable to say it, mortified that I even have to bring this up. But it’s happening, damn it. We’re clearing the air, and then we’re having sex. Done and done.
“While I was screwing a girl to satisfy my insatiable libido?” he supplies in a way I can only describe as saucy, and in a split second I’m at ease, laughing.
“She paled in comparison,” he continues. “Nothing of your intellect or your passion for your work.” And suddenly he isn’t joking anymore, he’s speaking with conviction. “Every time you tell me about what’s happening at your office I get so envious I don’t work in the nonprofit sector. I want a cause to fight for, I just...”
I cup his face, understanding.
“You support your parents with your job, don’t be ashamed of that.”
He leans into me, breathing against my skin until his eyes snap open, something intense staring back. “You’ve wanted me all along?”
“Maybe,” I mumble, because a full admission of my desire is too much, too soon. I’m also just scared shitless.
“I could have kissed you so many times over the past few months.”
He looks astounded. He keeps shaking his head and looking every which way, searching for a reason he’s wasted this time. It’s endearing and fortifying.
“Why didn’t you?” I have to ask.
He takes my hand, rubbing his thumb along my palm, reigniting a simple yet sensational contact.
“I couldn’t be sure you wanted it and I would not put you in a position to make you uneasy. If I ever did that, it would be far worse than your indifference.”
I’m flattered and gratified for the care he takes for me, going out of his way to make me relaxed, to make sure I don’t feel pressured, even if it’s just for the sake of mind-blowing sex.
Knowing someone wants me, this particular someone, is the greatest aphrodisiac in the world. And damn if aphrodisiacs don’t allow me to shed my pointless shame and anxiety and just be brave.
I lower my voice, and whisper, “You know, I have vibrators that are more silent than the one you heard. I only pull that loud one out on occasion. I use the others way more.”
“How often did you use them?”
My lips brush his ear.
“Since meeting you? Every. Single. Night.”
“Fuck that.”
He takes my hand and drags me into the bedroom. It’s warmer than the living area, the chill from the A/C having dissipated quicker. The space is scantly decorated, a king bed, grey sheets, a dresser and a mirror hanging on the wall next to the windows. No pictures or art or plant life. I want to ask why but I’m thrown on the bed without a care.
“Hey—”
I bounce, landing on my back, my stomach flipping like I’m on the downhill slide of a rollercoaster.
“Did you just toss me?”
“I did,” he says, crawling over me, grinning, taking in my body with open need. “Is that okay?”
I’m too distracted by his flexing abs and pectorals to answer. Then a pair of biceps is on either side of my face, and I can’t decide which to look at. Or lick.
“Faye.” His soft baritone brings me back to those eyes, honey eyes that warm the soul. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”
I’m swept away by the honest need in his gaze and am overcome by the devastating force of his being.
I wrap my arms around his neck and bring him down, aligning our bodies, heart to heart.
“Take me,” I say against his lips, giving him everything I’ve got, more than I even give myself.
His spicy, masculine scent is all I can smell. His mouth, and the dark hint of beer and cinnamon, all I can taste. I grip his perfectly formed ass. He mumbles my name into my mouth, his eyes tracking over every inch of me.
Ben hitches my leg around his waist, checking in with me once more. I grab the thick organ in response and line him up with my pussy. He pushes in, slow, aware of how tight I am.
“How do I compare to the vibrator?” he asks, a smirk on his face.
I laugh, but it melts away as he pushes far inside. I dig my fingers into his sweat-slicked skin, the heat from our bodies and the warmth of the room combining to wreck us in more ways than one.
He starts to move, slow at first, then picking up the pace as I stretch to take him. His lips never stray far from mine and I relish every kiss, every thrust.
“Yes, baby. Take my big cock.”
I do, I nearly swallow him down deep into me. I order him to fuck me harder, to get as far inside as he can. I beg him to stretch and pound me, to make me scream. He does all of that and more.
“Can you come like this?” he asks, his face a muddle of twisted concentration.
I shake my head, then move one of his hands over my clit to show him what I need. “Flick it.”
He adjusts, making it easier to prop himself up, fuck me and touch me, all at the same time. He executes it perfectly, again proving he was always more than the simple, engaging, sexy neighbor I pinned him as.
“There’s so much more,” I mumble against his mouth, aware I’ve said the words out loud only when I hear them.
“All night.” He picks up the pace, his skin slapping against mine. “We have all night and so much more.”
So much more?
I can’t force the words out as his fingers hit my clit in just the right way and then I’m coming. I’m squeezing him tight, holding him inside me.
“Oh, fuck yes. Right there, you’re so tight. Come on my cock, Faye.”
He buries his face in my neck and trembles against me. The hot spurts of his come burst inside me, mixing with what we’ve made together.
I wrap my legs around Ben’s waist, not wanting to feel the loss of him. Why did he say so much more? Does he think this will be more than one night? He’s wanted me and I’ve wanted him...but I didn’t think it would be more than sex. That’s what we both wanted, isn’t it? I came over here to get him out of my system, to scratch this unbearable itch so we can go back to how things were.
We did it. It’s done. So what now?
Should I go?
Feeling his body trembling on top of mine, I don’t want to go. A different kind of heat has increased inside me, one I started to feel long before the shower incident. One I know I’ve been denying.
Maybe I should go. Rip the bandage off and suffer a quick jab of pain. That’s all it will be.
I shimmy underneath him, attempting to squirm my way out.
“Stay still,” he says, his voice a low and startling growl.
“What’s wrong?” Did I hurt him?
“I think...this has never happened to me before. Oh, fuck, I need—”
“What? Tell me.” I stroke his back, alarmed by his tone.
He pulls away from my neck, looks down at me in furious astonishment.
“I’m still hard.”
He proves the veracity of his statement by pulling out to the tip and thrusting back in. My oversensitive tissues explode with awareness.
“I need to keep going,” he pants, fucking me while pleading with me at the same time. Dominant and sweet, all wrapped into one sexy package. “Can I?”
I can feel myself gushing all over again, equally messed up by my need for him.
“Yes, but not like this.”
I push him over, forcing him onto his back, then sit up, bracing my arms against his chest, and start to rise and fall, rolling my hips with each wave of movement.
“Faye.” He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They roam from my breasts, to my hips, my ass, my shoulders then finally my clit.
I bite my lip, holding in a moan so loud it might set off car alarms.
“Don’t hide from me,” he says. He plucks my lip from between my teeth. “I’m not on the other side of the wall. I’m here.”
I come down on him hard and he groans, shaking his head. “I need more. I need faster.”
He pulls me down to his chest and takes control of our movements, fucking into me with short, sharp smacks. His hands grip my ass, moving me on him. I’m sobbing from the intense pressure, the force of his thrusts too much for me to protest or regulate, and I don’t want to. His cock skims that elusive place inside me, teasing and taunting all at once.
“Ben, I need to come but I can’t—”
“I’m gonna come, baby, then I’ll take care of you. I promise. I promise.”
His orgasm sends tremors through his body, my name a hoarse prayer on his lips. His hips spasm against me, the touch of hair at his groin scraping against mine, a visceral, real moment I always thought out of our grasp.
And it might only be for one night, but we’re here together, and I’m going to live in it as long as it lasts.
We catch our breath and his softened length slips out of me, followed by a sticky sensation down my thighs.
“I feel it all, my come and your wetness dripping out of you.”
“Let me go wash up.”
“No, wait. Move up, brace yourself on the headboard.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want to see you come again.”
“You don’t have to do that. I feel amazing.”
“I want to. I love hearing and watching you orgasm. C’mon, don’t make me break my promise.”
I climb over his chest and position myself directly over his mouth, holding on to the slats in the headboard. He eats at me with less urgency then before. He takes his time, building the orgasm up to a rolling, plummeting force. When all I’m left with is aftershocks, he tumbles me to the bed and spoons me from behind.
“I can stay like this forever. With you, a world in darkness.”
That sounds more like the man I’ve come to know, honest yet poetic. Passionate when in the moment.
“Me too,” I whisper.
I could remain in darkness with him forever, pushing aside reality until the world crumbles around us.
But of course, the power comes back on.