Debt, page 10
She’s completely right.
And now I want her. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. There’s nothing else in the world, nothing at all, only this hot, lithe, insightful deity in black in front of me.
And I want her. Nothing can stop me from taking her now. Nothing at all.
What will happen afterwards? I have no fucking idea.
But I want her.
“And you know all this how?” I say.
She shrugs. “Intuition, perhaps. Or...” She looks at me more deeply. “Something about your eyes.”
“They’re blue.”
“You’re making light of it, your defense for it.”
I look away. She read me. She read me completely. “Let’s get out of here,” I say.
There’s a tremor in her hand as I grab it and pull her out of the bar. She’s still nervous, still afraid. But, fuck it, so am I, so why should I hold back anymore?
I don’t bother asking if she wants to take her car. Because unless she says No, I’m going to assume that it’s Yes all the way from now on, and I won’t give her extra opportunities to say no.
I put her in my truck and screech out of the parking lot toward the Courtyard Hotel. Maybe she’ll think I’m loaded staying here. Not my problem. I’m not interested in her getting to know me anymore. I’m one-track minded now. One-track.
In the back of my mind is a thought, a thought that discomforts me but which I can’t deny.
I want to fuck Kyla more than once. I want to fuck her for a few days. Hell, I wanna fuck her for a few months.
Maybe, maybe she’ll want to do that too. But that’s beyond my attention span right now. I don’t care anymore, don’t care at all. In this moment I want her more than air or life.
I practically fly through the lobby and up to my room. I close the door and my hands are up her dress and my lips against hers before the door clicks fully shut.
Her lips are wet and hungry and crazy. Her arms slide around my neck and the softness of how she holds me gets me hard fast.
Kyla’s leg wraps around my butt while my hands curl under the seam of her panties and I pull them down. My hand finds her, and her groan reverberates into my throat and lungs as I thrust an impatient finger into the drenched desire between her legs. “This is a fucking mistake,” I tell her, still plying her.
“I know.”
“I’m not what you think I am, Kyla. You should run.”
“I know.” She barely gets the words out as her lips find mine and then find my chin and neck.
Her fingers curl under my shirt and she yanks it off. Her eyes pause for a second as she takes in the ink on my chest, the lion and the wolf, inspired by Nate. But then her teeth assault my nipples and that only gets my finger pumping more madly.
I can’t wait.
I yank her dress off and take a deep breath while the beauty of her curves dazzles me.
I snap her bra open, and my mouth dives for the first nipple it can find, soaking it up and sucking while her hips rock violently against my hand. “You can still turn back,” I mutter one more time, her last chance, her nipple between my teeth.
“Why would I want to?”
Goddamnit, that fucking Good Angel in my head is screwing things up royally for me!
I take my hand from between her legs, push her against the door. Her hands fight with my belt and I’m too weak to resist them.
I can’t believe I’m about to tell her this, can’t believe it. “Kyla.”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“I might want to see you again.”
“OK.”
“I’m not a relationship guy.”
“OK.”
“But I might want to see you again.”
“OK.”
My belt falls apart, and her hand grabs my cock and slides down it so fast that my eyes close. “Christ, fuck, you’re undoing me.”
“I know.” She leans in to kiss my ear, rubbing my cock up and down, pumping the living daylights out of me.
I realize something cosmic while all this is happening: It’s not Kyla who should be afraid of me, it’s I who should be afraid of her.
-2-
I wrest her skillful hand from my cock lest I burst all over her sexy pink underwear. And that’s not what I want. I bunch her panties in my hand, wishing I could just rip them off, but they’re too freaking high quality for that.
My lips find her neck, then her breasts again, while my hand maneuvers the satin underwear down toward her knees. Far enough. I can’t wait anymore. Can’t bloody wait. I interlace my fingers in hers, push her arms above her head, and tease her with my cock below.
Her moans are bells and harps.
The way she rolls her hips shows me she knows what she’s doing, and yet there’s that sensuality to all her movements which tells me this is more than just a straight fuck.
I pull her away from the door and to the bed. Jeezus I’d love to slam inside her right here...
I hesitantly grab a rubber from my nightstand, hoping with all my might that I actually last more than a single thrust when I enter her. Just slapping on the rubber alone almost sends me reeling. She’s really thrown me over the edge.
I want to look at her face when she bursts. I want to see those blue eyes ablaze, her lips twisting, her hair falling into her mouth. I bring her to the edge of the bed, almost dive for her wet pussy with my lips...but I’m too goddamn horny for that now. I cup her neck with my left hand, bring my cock between her folds.
“Look at me,” I say.
She doesn’t.
“Kyla, look at me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
She shuts her eyes. “I just...can’t.”
“Why? Please tell me.”
Her eyes close even tighter. “It’ll...it’ll mean too much.”
Fuck me, I almost drive into her for that statement alone. “That’s the point.”
“I don’t want a relationship any more than you do, Logan.”
“But you want this to mean something.”
She bows her head. Both her hands slide around my neck. “Why is it every word you say gets me hornier?”
“You took the words right out of my mouth.”
I wait, wait for her to open her eyes...and then she does. Glorious and blue and innocent and scared, not blue like mine, lighter, much lighter, majestic.
I don’t wait.
I can’t wait.
I thrust.
Those eyes go wide and round and her mouth sags open.
I thrust again.
Her knees come up on either side of me.
Again.
“Keep your eyes on mine,” I tell her.
Again. Again. Again. “Oh, fuck,” she hums. “Oh, fuck, Logan.”
I slam harder, back and forth.
“Oh, God, yes.”
I drive my cock inside her, hold it there. “Oh, yes,” she says. “Oh...” She bites her bottom lip. Her eyelids close.
“Look at me, Kyla. Look at me.”
Her lids flutter as she forces her eyes open. “You have beautiful fucking eyes, Logan. You have beautiful—oh, God—eyes.” She runs her hands across my buzz cut, caressing my skin while I thrust into her, hoping it never ends. Hoping the moment never dies.
She brings me closer to her. Her legs curl around my arse. Every time her eyes start to close, she forces them open again. The more I fuck her, the deeper her gaze becomes, as if she’s looking into my very soul.
“Harder,” she whispers. “Fuck me harder, Logan. Fuck me with all you have.”
I lose control when I hear her howl. The bed slams and slams and slams against the wall. “Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, yes, oh—”
And then...
Everything goes silent.
For a moment, just a moment, a single, blissful, peaceful moment when there is nothing, nothing at all, just her blue eyes locked on mine, her mouth slack, her lips red and moist and her tongue within my reach: I drive deep and madly into her.
And then the silence bursts.
Kyla screams, screams, “Oh, dear fucking God.”
I thrust so hard that the top of her head almost hits the headboard. And yet my own orgasm evades me. It had been there, been there constantly throughout, ready to explode, but now all I see is the dazzling sparkle of the sweat on her face and her grimace and tightly-shut eyes, her body rolling, convulsing, bursting, exploding under me in judders and waves while her breasts bounce and gleam.
And then, finally, mercifully, blessedly, my cock shatters. I feel the seed roar out of me in a torrent and my body goes into spasms as I thrust and pull and slam madly against her.
She’s caressing my head while the wave takes me over, the longest orgasm I can remember, and yet not long enough.
Her breasts tease me as my cock begins to soften, their plump and natural roundness, the red of her nipples where I bit into them.
I bury one of them in my mouth, still rolling inside her. Her hands slide over and around my back, her heels on my butt.
I don’t want to take myself out of her.
This I can do. Sex I can do. And I want to do it again. I don’t want reality, I don’t want truth. I just want Kyla, this girl, this woman underneath me. I want her again, and again, and again.
Because she knows me. She knows me without knowing anything about me.
-3-
I slide out of her finally and onto the side of the bed, waiting for the inevitable, that moment when the girl realizes I’m a good lay and she’ll be packing her bags and going off to greener pastures where golden rings and diamond necklaces abound.
I put my hand under my head, look up at the ceiling, not pressuring her, letting her know without words that if she wants to leave, she can.
But she doesn’t.
She lies next to me, naked, looking up at the ceiling with me. Not a word said. Nothing at all. Neither one of us wanting to end it. Neither one of us willing to say goodbye.
She doesn’t cuddle or snuggle, she doesn’t rest her head on my shoulder, but she doesn’t leave either.
It’s not long before the natural curves of her body have me hardening again.
And it’s not long before Kyla is grabbing another rubber herself, sliding it over my cock, straddling me, and maneuvering my cock into the slick hotness inside her body.
She wants seconds.
~Eleven~
Kyla
-1-
I don’t know why I have him inside me again, why I yearned for him again. But now that we’re going for seconds, I’m thinking of thirds and even fourths.
He was straight with me. He’ll want me again, and again, and again.
And so do I.
I slide my hands over the eye candy of his solid chest and the intricate ink designs on it while his shaft drives deep into me. I bring my lips down to his and relish in how soft his kiss is despite how hard everything else is about him. A hard life, a hard body, a hard face. Rough and strong and forceful...but none of that either. I can sense it about him, the way he moves inside me. There’s a gentleness underneath the persona that has me mesmerized.
It’s not long before I find myself holding him in a way I haven’t held a guy in years, letting him take over the movements below, thrusting his shaft so deep into me that I gasp.
I look into the piercing blue of his eyes, as he made me do before. And I’m waiting for that moment, the one I saw an hour ago when his face shatters and everything manly about him breaks into something human and gentle while I hold him in my arms.
I’m climaxing fast, unable to keep up with his thrusts. My hands clutch at his shoulders and soon I’m unable to keep my eyes open like he wants me to. I hear myself scream, feel my body burst into splinters and still he drives into me with long, sweeping strokes that bring me quickly over the edge.
When he does burst, the room explodes with lightning and the walls rock from his growls.
I hold him, leaving him inside me, not sure how this will work out between us, where he lives, if I’ll see him again.
I don’t let the questions bother me, only let him stay inside me until I feel he can bring me to climax again. Which he does.
The day rides by.
I text Vera and tell her not to wait for me and to enjoy her time with Jake. She doesn’t text back, which is all the confirmation I need to know she is enjoying her time.
I look over at Logan, nude and perfect, a Greek statue of power.
I let him take me again, and again, and again, and again.
We say nothing, speak of nothing, only scream and moan and shatter into pieces until there is nothing else, nothing at all.
The sun sets, the room is dark and the bed warm.
I think he might want me to leave. He had his ‘fucks,’ as he told me he wanted them, had ten or twelve of them if I counted correctly. But when I stir to get up, Logan’s hand touches my wrist. “Don’t go,” he says.
Don’t go.
My answer is a croak. “I don’t want to.”
I bring the sheets up to cover us. My hand settles on his sack and my chin rests on his shoulder.
Logan is asleep quickly.
Vera and I will hit the road the day after tomorrow.
And Logan no doubt will need to go and do his next fight, or whatever else he does for a living.
I feel like I know everything about him, everything I need to know. And I don’t know how. The mind demands proof, when truthfully it doesn’t need any.
I close my eyes, try and sleep.
But I can’t.
-2-
I’m on the one-seater staring at the bed when Logan wakes up. I’ve been up most of the night. I’ve been thinking about Matt and Dave and Vince and the endless other string of lovers I’ve had in the past and how empty it felt with all of them—all of them except Matt, perhaps.
But nothing felt like this. Nothing at all. Is it possible that two people can communicate a language without words? Is it possible that an undercurrent exists with people where ideas are shared but no words exchanged?
Even Dave took something from me, something I’ve never been able to voice, and if I could just know what he took from me I feel like some fundamental question about my life could finally be answered. But I can’t word the question either.
Between Dave and Vince there was an array of lovers, none of them that I slept with more than once, none of them I slept with on the same night I met them, except for that one time I already told you about.
And then Vince, studying Sports Management, a good career. I listened to all the bullshit in Cosmopolitan and even bought a relationship book that matched one partner with another on a scoring system. Would you believe I frickin filled in the question sheet for me and Vince? Of course, he and I were a ninety-eight percent match. So I dated him, sort of. I let him take me to bed after a few weeks. Before that, we’d fooled around.
I could never put him in my mouth. There was just something about it, something about it with him that I couldn’t face. Vince is big not only in muscle, but also down there. He’s an Olympian god to the eyes.
And yet...I could never do it. In the three months we dated I never once brought my lips to his shaft.
Of course, this pissed him off. How freaking ridiculous, you date someone and then you end up having arguments about blowjobs.
He told me I was a prude, that I didn’t know the first thing about sex.
My reputation is unknown at WRU. To the students there, I’m just the geeky accounting student who wears too-long dresses and who somehow hangs out with the hottest babe in school—Vera. She and I party out of town. Vince even thought I was a virgin when he first took me to bed. I think he was pissed off when he discovered I wasn’t. Almost...jealous, as if he had some right to my maidenhood and that I had insulted him by not letting him take it.
Logan gets up on one arm and smiles brightly at me, shattering any excuses I’ve been building up in my head why it would be wrong to get to know him a little better, as if knowing him would ruin the magic of what we just shared.
“You’re still here,” he says, his eyes drifting to my breasts and then between my legs.
“I...wanted...to stay.”
His smile grows wider, and I think his smile is the most beautiful part of him.
I’m thinking of putting my lips around him, of tasting him, slow and gentle and loving—which is ridiculous...because he might be as bad as all the rest of them. And he might break my heart. And he might become obsessed with me like Vince was.
“Everything OK?” he asks.
“Uhm, yeah, yeah, I, uhm...” I look to the window, not sure what to think or say. I’m such a wreck, and it makes no sense that I am. I was raised in privilege, I never wanted for anything, and here I am, afraid of getting hurt, when I’m certain the life this man in front of me has led is a hundred times worse than anything I’ve ever encountered. “I’m OK,” I say, forcing a smile.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.” And suddenly I am OK, simply because he asked, simply because when Logan asked me that, it sounded like he actually cared what my answer would be.
“You’re naked.”
My lip twitches upwards. “Is that a problem?”
“On the contrary...”
“You sure you can go again?”
“With you, I think I could go for another week.”
My head drops, I feel my cheeks flush. Damn, my pussy aches. But I’ll have him inside me again. There’s something about the way he rocks into me which is so goddamn sensual.
I get up off the one-seater, pull the covers off him.
Logan laughs, a bright, blue-eyed roar of mirth. He’s hard already. I grab his cock and rub it, straddling his legs. My hair falls in front of my eyes and all I want to do is bring him to my lips. But it’s too close. It’s too close, Ky. You don’t know him. You don’t know him at all...
I lower my head, wrap my lips around him, pull him inside me while tasting him with my tongue. His hips push upwards and his hands slide through my hair. “Bloody hell, I wasn’t expecting that—oh, fuck me George. Oh, fuck, Kyla, where did you learn—”
