Page 38 of He Has Pluck

When I pull up at the curb of the sketchy house, I laugh, a real full-bodied laugh because I almost feel at home—like I’m on assignment somewhere dangerous where I should be. The front door is open, and I go inside and climb the stairs.

Maybe I should send him a text and warn him I’m here because I’m not sure he’s expecting me, not sure how we left things between us, but he wouldn’t have texted me his address if he didn’t want me to visit.

I never responded to his text, never told him I’d be here although I might have implied it earlier. As I get to the second floor, my distracting thoughts evaporate because I’m confronted with a man leaning against the wall in the semi-dark hallway. I smell him before I see him.

“Look what we have here. You coming to see me, sweet bitch?” His smile sickens me more than the nasty odor seeping through the missing teeth, his mean intent plainly visible.

I shove past him without comment when he tries to block my way. But when he puts a grimy hand on my arm and tugs, I swing around and knee him in the balls.

“Don’t touch me.” My voice is tight, and I yank free from him, hoping I didn’t catch any lice, or worse, from the contact. He shrinks back, grimacing in pain as he holds his crotch. A door flies open as I stare him down.

“What the fuck’s going on?” It’s Jason, and he pulls me into his arms and takes over the stare down of the man who’s now scared shitless and sliding backwards along the wall, stuttering and wide-eyed.

“Did you touch her?” Jason pushes me behind him and starts for the guy, but I grab his arm and hold on, pulling him back with my full body weight because, as entertaining as it might be, I didn’t come here to watch him beat some would-be attacker to a pulp.

“Leave him alone. He’s already got bruised balls, and I doubt he’d ever think of touching me again.” The guy scrambles to his doorway and slams the door behind him.

Jason turns to me, astonishment lighting his handsome manly face.

“Sorry to have deprived you of saving the day,” I say.

He laughs and takes me in his arms again. “You’re not one fucking bit sorry,” he growls and presses me against his door, his mouth close to mine.

“You’re right.” I breathe him in, soap and mint and man, and it cleanses the leftover stench from my close encounter. “As much as I want you to kiss me right now, I think we’re on the wrong side of this door.”

He answers with his one-dimpled grin, turns the knob behind my back, and we spill into his room.

He kicks the door closed behind us, and I stumble backwards onto his bed, or rather mattress. It’s a long fall, and I let out a yelp as he laughs and catches me, spinning us around so I land on top of him. He holds me tight against him, not that I have any plans to escape, and cupping a hand around the back of my head, he brings me face-to-face with him, our noses touching, but not our mouths.

I dart my tongue out and lick his lips. He rumbles a low laugh.

“What are we doing?” he says when he might have asked what I’m doing here.

The answer is obvious either way so I don’t bother with words. Instead, I snake my hand down his body and find the boner hidden by his sweat pants. He laughs again, that same sexy rumble in his chest that I wish I had on a sound bite that I could play over and over.

“Answer my question,” he growls and turns us over so that he’s looking down on me, that intense all-encompassing stare seeing into my soul.

“I could have sworn you knew how to play this game,” I say and then I press his head closer and catch his mouth with mine to end this conversation.

He gives in to my kiss and takes over, going deep like he always does, no holds barred. And as he kisses me and I kiss him back, he removes my clothes. I help him with my leggings and swear, next time, I’ll wear a dress, no bra and no panties because by the time I’m naked and I’ve peeled his T-shirt off and lowered his sweat pants, I’m wet with need and close to the edge on anticipation alone.

“You’re so ready,” he says as he runs a finger through my pussy, making my hips jump. He’s holding himself over me with a one-arm plank that would impress the hell out of me any other time.

“I don’t know what you do to me to make me this way, like I’m a crazed sex-starved animal with no lines I won’t go past when it comes to fucking you.” I say in a fit of honesty and clarity.

“You do the same to me because, I swear, it’s never been this way before.” He stares from inches above my head, his pupils dilated and sweat popping on his face. I lick the salty beads from his upper lip, and he catches my tongue in his teeth, then toys with it. “I need to be inside you, baby, right now.” He takes his cock in his hand and moving his hips to line up, he slips inside me.

My mouth opens but I don’t speak as the feeling of being impaled and filled by him makes me shudder like an earthquake rocked me.

He keeps his hand down there, his thumb on my pussy, circling until my clit plumps up and pulses under his touch. He rocks in and out of me, gliding slow and steady as my hips meet his in rhythm, and our breathing quickens at the same pace.

“How many times can I make you come tonight?” he asks, his voice strained. But I notice arousal never stops him from talking, and I like that. Love to hear his voice under the stress of fucking me as he comes closer and closer to the edge.

“Let’s just start with this one.” I sound breathy, and I like hearing that, too. He slams into me hard, and I moan with the dizzying sensations.

“How many?” His voice is course and demanding.

“At least three,” I manage to whisper, and then my words turn into a moan as he flicks his thumb and then moves his hand to my ass.