East, page 2
Her back arched. She cried out and tossed her head back as she clenched around me like a fist. Like I was too big. Like she was…
“You okay?” I asked through gritted teeth.
She nodded, biting her lip. Her inner walls milked and rippled around me as she wiggled her hips.
It had either been a really long time for her, which I doubted was the case since I put her around twenty-two, or Ella was—or had been—a virgin.
And just like that, I’d made her mine.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, holding myself still deep inside her.
She turned her head, looked at me with those eyes, a mix now of desire and worry. “I’ve never had sex before, that’s all. Tab A in Slot B and all that. It’s not a big deal and it’s done. I wanted to. With you. I still do, if you’d only move.”
I pulled out.
“What? Because I’m a virgin you’re not going to—”
I grabbed her hips and spun her around, then lifted her and sat her on the edge of Mike’s desk. Yeah, I wasn’t going to tell him about what we were doing to his workspace.
I cupped her cheek and made her eyes meet mine.
“Oh, we’re doing this. Just a little differently. Lean back.”
She set her palms on the desk behind her and I hooked a hand behind her right knee. She’d been wet before, but I checked now with my fingers. Her slick heat coated the tips.
She gasped.
“How much of a virgin are you?” I asked, letting my fingers play while my dick throbbed. I’d get back in her but it was about her right now.
“Meaning?” she countered, one auburn brow arching. She was disheveled and pretty much naked, wild and sprawled on Mike’s desk and yet the look she gave me was a cross between stop fucking around and fuck me.
“Meaning on a scale of one where you’ve never seen a dick before to a five of you’ve just never had a dick in you.”
“Five.”
I nodded. While I was caveman enough to wish I’d been the only man to touch her, I wasn’t a hypocrite. She deserved sex of any kind as much as anyone else.
I was ridiculously pleased I was the first one to get inside her, and ridiculously crazy for wanting to be the last. I didn’t do relationships and now I wanted one with this pussy.
I settled at her entrance again and slid in, this time slower and I was able to watch her face as I did so.
“Okay?” I asked once I was buried deep once again.
“Yes,” she breathed, wiggling her hips.
I pulled back, thrust home. Fuck, yes. She was tight. Hot.
And responsive because she cried out, thrust her tits up.
I sucked on one plump tip as I carefully fucked her. Testing what she liked, how she felt.
I shouldn’t have worried. She wasn’t a romance novel Highlander maiden. She was a little hellcat, wrapping her legs around me and lifting her hips thrust for thrust.
My thumb rubbed small circles around her clit. I wasn’t sure if she could come this first time, but I was going to try to get her there. I knew it was less about my prowess and more about her headspace. I was big and her pussy was like a vice. It was my job to please her.
Her eyes flew open, and I grinned. “Like that?”
She nodded and her arms gave way and she settled on her back on the desk. It didn’t take long for her eyes to fall closed and breathy sounds to escape her parted lips. One hand cupped her tit and the other landed on top of mine and she moved it over her clit how she liked.
My balls drew up knowing this woman owned her needs. I was just a tool to get her there now.
Watching her come was fucking incredible. I observed as a flush spread across her pale skin. Her pussy clenched down on me in tight ripples. I didn't stand a chance. While she cried out her release, I thrust deep and unloaded in her, my hand slapping down on the desk.
It was like a freight train of pleasure.
I had no idea how long we took to recover. Eventually, I pulled back and took care of the condom. Ella slid off the desk and pulled up her dress, slipping the straps back over her shoulders. The hem fell back over her thighs. She looked my way with a shy smile, but had a satisfied gleam in her eyes.
“Wanna go back to my place for round two?” I asked. Once wasn’t enough and if she was this wild from her first time, I’d think she’d want more before she called it a night.
She licked her lips, watched as I tucked myself back in my jeans.
“Let me go to the ladies’ room and clean up.”
I nodded as she ducked out of the room, giving me one last glance.
I waited, like an idiot, for ten minutes.
Then I went to the women’s restroom to see if she was okay. Not there.
Then I went out to the main bar area to find her friends. Again, not there.
Then I realized I’d been ghosted.
By a gorgeous woman who gave me her name, her virginity and nothing else.
Except… I reached into my pocket and pulled out her panties. The only proof I had of her existence.
2
ELLA
* * *
I slid into my seat, setting my bag on the floor at my feet. The classroom was on the second floor of the math building and held about fifty students. Since it was a lower-level class, one I was taking to fill my math elective, it was full.
The hard plastic prompted me to how sore I was and that prompted me to what I’d done the night before. While I hadn’t held onto my virginity for any particular reason, losing it had been a pretty easy decision. Because the guy… whatever his name was, was really, really hot. Buff, broad, sturdy. Sexy. And huge… everywhere.
That was why my pussy ached. It was as if I’d been ripped open. Anyone who said their first time was all rainbows and rose petals had been with a small-dicked guy. Or they’d tossed away their hymen riding horses or using huge dildos. Neither was the case with me and there was no way my body was letting me forget how I’d bent over a desk and been fucked by a stranger. Or spun about and made to come. All over his huge cock.
God, that had been hot. I wasn’t one to pick up men. I wasn’t one to even approach them. I wasn’t shy. I was focused. I had no time for extraneous stuff, including man-induced orgasms. I worked and went to school. Studied. I was killing myself, knowing that it was the only way to being a social worker. To a life where I could rely on myself and be financially independent instead of a responsibility or an after-thought.
Except last night I’d been the farthest thing from an after-thought. That guy had been focused on me. He’d cared enough to change things up when he’d figured out my inexperience. I’d thought I’d have been able to hide it, but being impaled on a baby-arm sized dick was a discomfort I couldn’t disguise.
Nor was the orgasm he’d given me after he’d laid me out on the desk.
I stuck out my lower lip and exhaled, fanning my face.
At twenty-two, I couldn’t have asked for a better V-card punch. I’d seen him across the bar well before my roommates had pretty much pestered me into approaching him. He’d been the only option, pretty much the only guy I’d noticed. He was big. Football linebacker big. Ate three hamburger combo meals for dinner huge. With his dark hair and strikingly pale eyes, he’d been… amazing. God, my ovaries had perked right up at the sight of all six-plus feet of testosterone. He made a red plaid flannel look good. Damned good.
Even a little cut above his eyebrow made him seem rugged. Maybe even a tad dangerous, because he’d been right. Me picking up a guy wasn’t the smartest thing. Still, I’d felt oddly safe with him. Wild, too.
Too bad that I’d never see him again. No, not bad. Good. It was a good thing because if I did, I had a feeling I’d be in trouble all over again. It had been intense, sure. But I’d felt more than attraction. Chemistry, too. A connection, and I didn’t mean because his huge dick had been in my vagina. I’d felt… special. Like he was just as into me as I was to him. I didn’t do relationships. Flings. Anything boyfriend/girlfriend. I didn’t have time. I didn’t have the interest in one. I didn’t have the DNA or whatever it was that made a woman want a guy in a permanent way. Hell, no guy would want me for long term either.
I was shit at love. Maybe it was the fact that I had no love role models. Being a foster kid, I’d had more “parents” than I ever wanted. Most were nice, but not the cookie-making mom or bike ride-teaching dad I’d longed to have. None were overly affectionate with each other, or any of their kids, biological or foster. Especially not Ron. The one who liked his foster kids—girls—a little too much.
I had no idea how to love, being shuffled from family to family, especially since Ron the Perv painted a disgusting picture. At least he was dead and no one else would deal with his shit. I’d made sure of it when he’d passed out drunk with a cigarette in his hand and set his recliner on fire. I’d gotten out, but hadn’t even tried to save Ron. I’d made the choice to let him die.
Until the night before, I had no idea how to fuck. But fucking, no matter how good it was, didn’t mean marriage. My three roommates were perfect examples of that. I couldn’t keep the string of men who came into our apartment with them straight. It was like having a revolving door for a front entrance.
I flipped the lid on my laptop and powered it on. The classroom was filling up and everyone dropped into their seats.
I worked full time at the distribution center plus carried a full class load. I got little sleep and little free time. On top of that, I just heard I was accepted for a work/study program which would pay for books and other school dues. It was halfway through the semester so I hadn’t expected it, but it was good news.
My roommates rarely saw me. While they worked hard on their classes, they partied hard too. I needed to keep my academic scholarship with good grades and needed to pay the bills with my job. I had no option. No family support. Nothing to fall back on like they did. When Thanksgiving came, they went home to sit at a crowded table with aunts and grandparents. Winter break meant tree trimming and stocking stuffers. I got the apartment to myself and time-and-a-half at the warehouse.
Having sex at the bar had satisfied their fun with me for a while. They’d been drunk enough to assume whatever they wanted as I’d tugged them out of there while the guy had been waiting for me in the office.
I didn’t need him showing them my panties. I didn’t need to draw out the V-card punch. One and done. While my roommates weren’t into relationships right now, they were ultimately hoping to settle down. To find The One.
Ironic that they were the ones who slept around and I hadn’t touched a man.
I thought of the guy’s words. That real friends didn’t dare them to fuck strangers at bars. He was right. I knew it. Sarah, Lynn, and Leah were nice and all, but we were roommates first. Friends second. I needed them to help pay the rent. I didn’t need to get manicures together. Or pick up men at bars.
The professor came into the classroom as I grabbed my cell, remembering almost too late to turn off the ringer.
“Hi everyone. I’m sure you’re all thinking I’m in the wrong room.”
I looked up from fiddling with my phone at the deep voice. Blinked.
Holy shit. I knew that dark hair. Those pale eyes. Those broad shoulders. Thickly veined forearms. What was in his pants.
“I’m Dr. Wainright. As you are probably well aware, Dr. Newburgh is having a baby. Well, baby Claire decided to make a very early arrival last night instead of waiting until December. Both mom and baby are well, but a four-pound human has the department scrambling to fill Dr. Newburgh’s classes for the remainder of the semester. You get me.”
As he spoke, he set a leather messenger bag on the floor beside the podium, then tucked his hands into his pockets.
There had been a pool on the baby’s arrival, but I didn’t think anyone picked October. Dr. Newburgh and her OB probably hadn’t either.
“The department PA is organizing turned-in work for each of her classes,” he continued, his gaze shifting across the room as he spoke. “Once I get your assignments from her, I will work through it all. Please give me some time to catch up.”
Students chattered about this update, but all I could think about was him. Dr. Wainright. My new stats teacher. The guy who knew me in the Biblical sense.
“For a little fun, we will use the model of a baby’s due date and the statistical chances of Dr. Newburgh delivering yesterday instead of the expected date of…”
A student in the front row called out, “December seventeenth.”
Dr. Wainwright smiled and my ovaries jumped up and down in recognition. “Right. I’m sure she won’t mind being used for stats practice.”
The class laughed.
I freaked and dropped my cell on my foot, then it clattered on the wood floor.
I started to sweat. My pulse went through the roof. I was probably having a heart attack. Mr. One Night Stand was the substitute professor of my math elective, and he was staring right at me.
EAST
* * *
“I have a big fucking problem.” I shut my office door behind me, set my bag on my desk. Somehow I’d survived an hour long class doing a complex problem on fixed data versus the flexibility of something like childbirth. Only the math itself kept me from thinking of how Ella had looked when she’d come all over a dick for the first time.
Barely.
“Macon? The shit with North?” West, my brother, asked.
I instantly thought of someone trying to kill North. Of her assistant being Macon’s lover. Of the secrets she’d finally revealed to us.
“No. Different problems,” I replied.
“We still haven’t heard back about the DNA tests,” he said. While I was in Bozeman, he was on his ranch, a few miles down the road from the big house, almost two hours away.
“You’d think with a billion dollars we could get a rush on those,” I grumbled.
“Okay, so you’ve got a big fucking problem other than you’re cranky like you missed snack time?”
I had, actually. I wasn’t used to the extra class. I yanked open my desk drawer and pulled out a protein bar.
“The fight last night didn’t help your mood?” he asked.
I bit off a chunk of the peanut butter and chocolate. “It was two nights ago, and I guess I need to beat the shit out of someone else.”
I had anger issues. Big ones. I didn’t need a shrink to know they’d manifested from living and dealing with Macon as a kid. In high school, I took my anger out using my fists on assholes and bullies because I was over six feet tall and two hundred pounds in tenth grade. No one messed with me, except Macon. In college, I’d started fighting competitively. While I’d gotten a football scholarship, the coach hadn’t cared about my extracurricular activities as long as I wasn’t too hurt to train or play games.
Now I spent time in the ring doing MMA, boxing, and even underground matches. Fight club style. I was one of the biggest guys to compete. I was quick for my size and had plenty of angst and meanness in my blood. The cage fight the other night had taken the edge off my constant aggression.
It had been worse lately. Macon’s death had stirred shit up. West knew all about it, but I tried to hide the extent of my drive from everyone else. For now.
“Fine. Two nights ago. What could go wrong there in the big city?” West’s voice was as tame as usual. His sarcasm wasn’t.
As for the big city, Bozeman, Montana was far from that. But the Wainright Ranch was on the largest swath of privately owned land in the state, which meant isolation and remoteness. The nearest town had a population of less than ten thousand. My name, along with my three siblings, was on the deed for all of it.
“I had a one-night stand,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. I’d had a semi since I saw Ella in the third row. At first, my mind had gone blank and I’d stared, but I’d pulled my head out of my ass and focused. And stood behind the podium to hide the fact that I’d been inside of one of my students less than twelve hours before.
“Okay.” My brother drew out the one word to two long syllables. “If you can’t get it up, then that is a problem.”
“Fucker. I can get it up,” I muttered, then thought of Ella. Of her bent over the desk, skirt tossed up and I got it up, right in my office. Shit, now I was hard as a fucking nail and had to adjust myself in my pants.
“Then what the fuck’s your problem?”
West was my twin. We looked nothing alike. Behaved nothing alike. I was pretty chill, but West was the most patient person I’d ever met. Of course, as a rancher he didn’t have to deal with people all that much. Cows didn’t talk back. Or fail a test. Or disappear on you with your dick out and balls empty.
“She picked me up,” I began. “Pretty much triple-dog dared by her roommates to fuck a guy at a bar for her birthday. She wasn’t game for it, but asked me to pretend to fuck her.”
“Someone asked you to pretend fuck?” The way he asked made it sound like he’d never heard anything so crazy before in his life.
I laughed, ran a hand over my face. “I know. That’s what I said. I couldn’t turn her down. She would’ve gone to someone else who could have been a total asshole.”
“You were a gentleman and agreed.”
“Exactly. Until I took her into Mike’s office to pretend.” West knew Mike and had been to the bar before. He could picture it all, except for how hot Ella was.
“But…”
“But we had sex anyway.”
“Then what’s the problem? Shit, say you used a condom.” He was well aware of being a Wainright and the precautions we had to take against those wanting our money. And only our money.
I groaned. “Jesus. Of course I used a condom. You know the deal.”
South, West, and I didn’t fuck without our own supply of condoms. I didn’t want to think about North having sex, but the same applied to her. Except now she did it with Jed Barnett. Again, I didn’t want to think of them together, but he was different. He was permanent.
