Rock Bottom Girl(81)

I slammed the door and dumped her purse on the floor and kicked through the contents. She knelt down, and I thought she was going to pick up her phone, but then her mouth was on the crown, and her tongue was doing evil, beautiful things to the very sensitive underside.

“Mars! You gotta warn a guy before you—oh, fuck.”

I lost my balance and crashed back against the front door. The thump had Homer hurling himself down the stairs in a lather of barking and growling. From past experience, I knew it was dangerous to wave my wiener around when my dog was stirred up.

He wasn’t a biter by nature, but I’d had a couple of close calls after Uncle Max had bought Homer a flesh-colored hot dog toy.

“Marley, baby,” I pulled her to her feet and picked her phone off the floor. “I’m going to let Homer out. Text your parents. You’re not going home tonight.”

She nodded, looking a little dazed and a lot happy. “Okay.”

I jogged to the back of the house and sent Homer on his way into the backyard. “It might be a while, buddy,” I warned him.

Homer trotted outside, tail wagging, not a care in the world.

And I ran back inside to my lady.





48





Marley





Me: Don’t wait up tonight!





Mom: Wait up for what?





Me: Me to come home.





Mom: Why would I do that? You’re almost 40.





Me: I’m just saying I won’t be home tonight, and you shouldn’t worry.





Mom: Why won’t you be home tonight??? Did something happen??? Are you okay?





Me: Mom, I just said don’t worry.





Mom: TELL ME WHAT NOT TO WORRY ABOUT!





Me: I’m having sex with Jake. Okay? There. You made me say it. It’s your own fault, and now we can never make eye contact again. Don’t tell Dad.





Mom: Have fun at Bible study, sweetie.





Me: ???





Mom: Just kidding! I’m a cool mom. Condoms are fun. Make good choices!





“Everything all right?”

I jumped, and my phone and purse slipped out of my grasp and landed on the floor in the pile of tampons, loose change, and other bottom-of-the-purse rubbish. Was that a whole candy bar or just the wrapper?

Jake was standing at the foot of the stairs looking all kinds of sinful with his jeans still undone. His dark hair was a mess. His sleeves were pushed up, and there was a wild look in his eyes.

He’d let Homer out into the backyard. It was just the two of us. Alone. Horny.

The primitive, sexy time part of our brains must have taken over because, instead of picking up my phone or cleaning up the purse debris, I launched myself at him. He caught me in the air and crushed me against his chest, winding my legs around his hips.

I decided I could cling to him permanently. His hand was in my hair, pulling it just hard enough for sparks to ignite on my scalp.

“You drive me fucking crazy, Marley,” he said, pelting me with wild kisses. He used teeth and tongue as weapons, and I was only too happy to surrender. “I want to go slower this time,” he said.

There was nothing leisurely about the way he was looking at me.

“But?”

“But I don’t think I can this time. Maybe the third or the seventeenth time.”

“I’m good with that.” My lipstick was on his mouth, and it was freaking hot.

“Bed?” he asked.

“Yeah. Hurry.”

He didn’t put me down, merely jogged up the stairs with me clinging to him. I was no waif-like flower. I was solid with healthy curves and muscle. And being handled like a package turned out to be an incredible turn-on.

So did being tossed on the bed like a suitcase. I was working my jeans free on the first bounce.

“Strip. Everything,” he insisted, standing at the foot of the bed and tearing off his shirt. I obliged, and we both raced for nudity. He won and celebrated by tackling me to the mattress.

I couldn’t be bothered to look around and take in the scenery, even though I was in the forbidden paradise of Jake Weston’s bedroom. Not with his foot-long sub staring at me.

We tangled with each other, rolling and gasping for breath. Our hands were everywhere. Our mouths were fused. My heart raced. I was galloping into heart attack territory with the adrenaline coursing through me. And I didn’t care. All I wanted was an orgasm like the one I’d had less than an hour ago. I wanted Jake to chase it down for me and present it to me on a silver platter.

“Your tits are perfection,” he groaned, pressing his face to my chest and nuzzling in.

I’d had him pegged as a boob man. He latched on to a nipple, and I writhed next to him. Reaching between us, I found his cock ready and waiting.

He pumped himself into my hand as he devoured my breast. I threw a leg over his hip and angled the head of his penis against me. Every time he thrust into my hand, he nudged against that needy bundle of nerves that had never been more alive.

It was more than enough stimulus. In seconds, a ninja orgasm snuck up and blindsided me.