Kate pushes her plate back and wipes her mouth elegantly with her napkin. Then she regards me thoughtfully. “I’ve been wondering about something.”
“What are you wondering?” I’m surprised that my voice is actually level. Considering the crotch of my pants is now painfully snug.
“Do you remember the night we met-at REM?”
I lean forward in my chair and run my finger up and down her bare arm. “Every provocative detail.”
She likes my answer. She smiles. “What do you think would’ve happened if I had gone home with you that night?”
I force my gaze up from Kate’s impressive rack to meet her eyes. “I would’ve done exactly what I said-given the word pleasure a whole new meaning.”
“But what about afterward?”
This is one of those tricky hypothetical questions women love to pose-just to screw with a guy’s head. “What if you had met my sister first?” “Would you have respected me if I fucked you on the first date?” “If you could go back in time, would you still marry me?”
Contrary to popular belief, there’s definitely a right way and a wrong way to answer. Unfortunately for men, the honest answer is usually the wrong one.
But because I’ve sworn to never lie to Kate again-and because she’ll know if I am frigging lying-I go with the truth.
“Afterward, I would’ve paid your cab fare and gone on my own merry, sexually satisfied way home.” I wink. “And I would’ve ranked our night as the best of my life. So far.”
She doesn’t frown, exactly, but the potential is there. Disappointment settles in her brown eyes, and the edges of her smile fall just a bit.
“That’s it? So you don’t think we’d be together right now?”
I pick up her hand and hold it in mine, looking it over before kissing each of her fingertips. “I didn’t say that. Like those of most geniuses, my epiphanies take a little time to settle in. I would’ve spent most of Sunday reminiscing-but by Sunday night, I would’ve started figuring out how to find you again.”
Just like that, the pre-frown vanishes. “You would’ve wanted seconds?”
“Seconds, thirds, fourths . . . and when I found you at my office on Monday? You can bet your ass my couch would’ve been scandalized much sooner.”
Kate leans forward, purposely teasing me with a bird’s-eye view of her cleavage. “What about your rule-Drew Evans doesn’t ride the same roller coaster twice?”
I enjoy the scenery.
“I’ve proven beyond a reasonable doubt that when it comes to you, my rules were always meant to be broken. If you were the coaster in question, I would’ve bought the whole fucking amusement park and ridden you until I couldn’t see straight.”
Kate’s free hand slides up my thigh, inching close to the holy land. Her voice is teasing. Playful. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Evans?”
“If you have to ask, I’m obviously out of practice.” I up my game. “Take your panties off. Right here, right now. Then give them to me.”
How’s that for flirting?
Her hand stops its exploration. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
She doesn’t sound shy or shocked. So I know her refusal isn’t because she doesn’t want to.
The lewd lightbulb goes on above my head. “You’re not wearing any, are you?”
Kate looks into my eyes. And sexily pops the p as she says, “Nope.”
Instantly my finger rises toward the waiter. “Check, please.”
The waiter quickly brings the check, and I throw a handful of bills down on the table. In a rush, I stand up.
Kate giggles. “They’re going to think you’re unhappy about the food, Drew.”
I help her out of her seat and lower my mouth to her ear. “I don’t give a shit what they think. If I don’t get you out of here right now, I’m going to lay you down on this table and give the other customers a show they’ll never forget.”
She looks up at my face daringly. “And I’d let you.”
Oblivious of the stares of the patrons and staff, Kate wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me. When her demanding tongue strokes mine, the sensation goes straight to my balls. With my arm around her lower back, I say, “You got all dolled up-I thought you wanted a night out.”
“Drew, I haven’t come in six weeks. The only thing I want is your cock so deep inside me, I can taste it.”
I don’t actually remember leaving the restaurant after that. Kate’s awesomely dirty revelation must have fried my brain.
The next thing I know, we’re on the sidewalk and I’m dragging her to the side of the building-to the narrow alley just wide enough to fit a Dumpster that faces the street. I have enough awareness to bring Kate to the far side of it-so we’re shielded from the view of cars and pedestrians. My eyes scan the path for intruders. Finding none, I devote all of my attention to Kate-to making up for all the screwless days she’s endured.
My hand buries itself in her hair, gripping the soft strands, holding her head captive as I plunder her mouth with my tongue. She writhes and rubs against me, pulling my shirt free of my pants and working on my belt.
It’s times like this I wish God had made people more like octopuses-six extra hands would be convenient right about now. We’re ravenous for each other-tearing and pulling at annoying clothes, wanting to touch every erogenous zone at the same time.
It reminds me of the first time we kissed, that night in my office years ago. It feels the same as that night-I’d wanted Kate, fantasized about her for weeks then too. The difference now is, I know precisely what I’ve been fucking missing. So I’m even hungrier for her, bordering on totally out of control.
My hand slides down the front of her dress, into her bra, straining the fabric. I palm and knead her full breast, and a welcome moan reverberates in Kate’s throat. My fingers rub and pinch her nipple, making it harden to a perfect peak. Kate tears her mouth from mine and moves to my neck-sucking and licking-nipping the sensitive skin with her teeth. Making me weak in the fucking knees.
I switch gears and slide my hands up her thighs, bunching her dress above her waist. Then I kneel down and pause for just a moment to appreciate the sight of her exquisitely smooth snatch.
Panting hard, Kate tries to cover her stomach with her hands. “I know I’m not-“
“Don’t fucking finish that sentence.” I grab her wrists, holding them away from her body.
Pregnancy is a strange experience for women. So many fast-paced changes-mentally, emotionally, physically. And, no, Kate doesn’t look exactly as she did before. But only a total asshole would expect her to.
Only the eminent ruler of all assholes would care.
“You made a person, Kate. A perfectly amazing person.” Then I look up into her eyes and tell her honestly, “You’ve never been more beautiful to me than you are right now.”
A smile tugs at her flushed lips. I release her wrists, lean forward, and press my mouth against the soft flesh of her pussy.
Hello, old friend. I’ve missed you.
I spread her with my fingers and delve in deep. She’s hot on my tongue-already wet-and sweeter than chocolate frigging cake. I cup her ass in my hands, pressing her forward, and revel in the taste of her. My eyes roll back in my head as Kate moans and gasps above me. Her fingernails cut into my shoulder blades, and after only a minute she’s begging.
“Please, Drew . . . I need you inside me. I need to feel you now.”
Unwilling to deny her and incapable of it, I lap at her one last time and stand. I cover her lips with mine and back us up to the wall of the building. As I caress her tits, Kate slips my pants and boxers down my hips.
She takes my straining cock in her hands, pumping it firmly and slowly.
I groan into her mouth.
Then I lift her, cushioning the back of her head with one hand, so it doesn’t smack against the bricks. My other arm is under her ass, holding her up. Kate locks her ankles together at my lower back, then guides my dick home.
I don’t wait. Waiting is just not possible. I plunge into her roughly, deeply.
“Drew . . . ,” she sighs.
Kate’s wet inner walls stretch around me, still blissfully fucking snug. Buried fully, I savor the sensation of being inside her again. Being surrounded and held by intense, hot perfection.
I whisper the only word that matters. “Kate . . .”
Her legs pull me closer, knees squeezing tighter. I do what we’re both craving.
I move.
Slowly, my hips pull back. Kate’s cunt grips my cock spectacularly as it slides from her.
“You feel like fucking heaven,” I moan.
Then I thrust forward hard, rubbing her clit with my pelvis, making sure she’s feeling the same blinding pleasure I am. I keep that pace-slow, rough strokes that make Kate purr every time our bodies collide.
Her eyes close and her mouth finds mine.
We’re gasping and moaning, gripping and pulsing-drowning in fantastic friction. With her cheek pressed against mine, Kate pants, “Oh, God . . . oh, God, Drew, I’m going to come.”
My hips quicken, needing to feel her contracting around me more than I need air to breathe. “Fuck yes, come, baby. Let me feel you come hard.”
Then she is. Her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist, constrict and tighten. Kate’s pussy squeezes my cock in a primal, uncontrollable rhythm that pulls me deeper inside her. I push and surge forward one last time, until I rise into the stratosphere with her. It’s so fucking good, so intense, for several long, exquisite moments the only sound I can hear is the rush of our ecstasy pounding in my ears.
Minutes later, I’m still breathing deep against Kate’s neck, and she continues to tremble with aftershocks. Still inside her, I lift my head and brush her hair from her face.
“That was awesome.”
She smiles wide. “Mind-blowing.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.