Talk Dirty to Me Page 14

  “What?”

  “Come with me.”

  He leads me to his private gym. Among the weights and machines is a massage table flush against the mirrored wall. “Let’s get those knots worked out of you.”

  He takes off my T-shirt and folds it with such precision it’s like he worked at the Gap for a decade. He actually did work there, now that I think about it, but only for a summer.

  Next, he slides off my mini skirt and then bends down to remove my boots.

  “Hop on.” He pats the table.

  I climb on and lay on my stomach. “Are you certified?” I tease.

  “Nope.” He oils up his hands. “But I have had thousands of massages. It’s part of the process to avoid injuries.”

  I set my face in the hole in the massage bed, but my entire body remains tense.

  I feel his hands on my back, and suddenly my skin prickles with heat. “What the…”

  “Liquid heat massage oil. Trust me, Rose.”

  I relax—just a little—as he continues to rub down my back, shoulders and neck. It is fucking magic. Muscles loosen and the pain I’ve been suffering for hours fades as tingly sensations replace it. He works my feet with the aplomb of a sexed-up podiatrist and with each knead of my arches the Oh yes please sensation intensifies.

  “You like that?” I can hear a smile in his voice.

  “Love.” Is all my mouth can muster.

  He works his hands up my legs, rubbing my calves and the back off my knees. His thumbs get dangerously close to the area of interest and I wiggle my legs wider for easier access. Laughing, he pats my ass, then slaps it, then massages the spot he just smacked. I wriggle and sigh happily throughout the process.

  “Flip over,” he orders. “You’re done on this side.”

  On my back, he works my feet again, driving his thumbs into my very soles, making a bolt of warmth shoot up each leg. “Mmm,” I moan. No other words come to mind.

  He works his hands up my legs to my inner thighs. Once again his thumbs brush close to my sweet spot, teasing the tops of my thighs and brushing along the curve of my bikini line. But he doesn’t quite touch my clit. “Oh, come on.” I shift my hips toward him.

  He bends down and kisses the outside of my pussy lips. “Patience.”

  Then he gently massages the oil into my breasts, arms and shoulders. I notice my legs are parting with each second that passes, until my knees are further apart than London and Tokyo. Grabbing his arm, I tug him to me and he laughs. “Alright. I suppose you’ve been patient enough, Ms. Taylor…”

  18

  Mark

  I am nowhere near done pleasing Rose and I give her a wicked smile because I know exactly what I’m going to do to her. Scooping her up in my arms, I carry her to my bedroom. It’s time to fuck her on my Tempurpedic. I have been fantasizing about this moment for weeks, or hell, if I’m honest, for years.

  Yes, we have had sex in places so ridiculous that porn stars would take pity. But it makes it all seem unofficial and distant. Here, in my own bedroom, I can really dig my knees into this expensive mattress and give it to her good.

  In my bed, she will truly be mine.

  I want her to want me.

  I want her to beg.

  And that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

  A beauty, a true, well-oiled beauty, is spread-eagle and naked on my bed. Her faded tan lines from last summer show the traces of a tiny bikini I would love to see her in. The oil not only has relaxed her and heated her skin, but shows off her curves in the dim light. Her eyes are half closed in relaxation and desire. Curling up next to her in spoon fashion, I cup her breast in my hand and kiss her neck softly. “Rose…”

  She sighs happily and leans back into me. I feel the softness and warmth of her body against mine. This, right here, feels so different and yet so familiar. I have been with many women, too many to name, to be honest. But this feels like home. The way she’s looking at me, that unguarded, wanting look telling me she feels a connection too.

  I want to take my time in my bed with her.

  I want her to beg for my cock. I want her to lose track of the world, she’s so lost in ecstasy. I want to watch her come again and again and know it’s me driving her mad…and I want to hear her say she wants to be here with me too.

  Her lips find mine, hard and insistent, and I kiss her deeply. She smells of lavender and sweet sweat. I taste her mouth, and her lips are so soft I imagine it’s like kissing a flower. For a moment I am lost in kissing her and stroking her face. I can’t get enough of her. Even her kisses set me on fire like nothing else. Eventually I slide down to kiss her neck, then her shoulders. I work my way along her delicious collarbone to the soft mounds of her tits. I circle her hard nipples with my tongue, enjoying her heavy pants as she arches her body against mine.

  Only when she’s writhing across the bed in desire do I slide back up to lick her ear gently, then suck her earlobe into my mouth, tonguing her earrings. She gasps in frustration. “Do you want me to fuck you now?” I murmur.

  “Yes, please,” she gasps.

  “I didn’t hear you. I want you to beg for my cock.”

  She throws me a glare over her shoulder, but her pussy is soaking wet and my finger is toying with her entrance. She narrows her eyes, but repeats herself, louder. “Yes. Please.”

  “Louder. And more descriptive. Otherwise I’m gonna make you kneel and suck me off.”

  “Goddamn it, fuck me, Mark, please,” she groans, and the heat and passion in her voice is too much to resist, as much as I love teasing her.

  I lift her leg and enter her, pleased to hear her moan with desire. Such incredible heat and wetness. Fuck, she’s so fucking tight and hot for me.

  “I’m gonna fuck you so deep and hard,” I growl. Her pussy contracts with each slow, painfully careful thrust and we move together, measured and perfect. She likes when I talk dirty to her. I watch her face, her eyes closed, her mouth slack and quivering like her pussy.

  “Mark…” she whispers.

  “You have the tightest pussy. You’re fucking perfect.”

  Keeping my cock inside her, I roll on top of her. She’s flat on her stomach and I reach under her to rub her clit as I fuck her. I move my hips a little faster and thrust a little deeper as her ripe ass rises. Harder, deeper, slowly I build the rhythm until we’re both panting in earnest, ready to go at it.

  Putting one hand on her hip and one on her shoulder, I fuck her like she’s never been fucked before. So hard we bounce across the mattress, and I feel every inch of her enveloping my rock hard cock. She’s loving it, her legs spread wide and her face pressed into the mattress. With each inch that fills her, I feel an almost painfully ecstatic sensation shoot through my body and I want to cum, so fucking hard, but no.

  Not yet.

  I think of baseball stats as I continue to pound her. The mound, the pitch, anything to break my concentration. But her pussy is alive with movement and so goddamn tight around me, distracting me from my numbers. I try to keep my mind off just how amazing her pussy feels right now, and how fantastic it looks wrapped around my dick when I pull back to watch her body writhe beneath me.

  “I’m gonna pound you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow without remembering my dick in you.”

  She’s moaning and groaning, desperate and horny and so wet for me, crying out loud, AH Ah Ah alllllmost there. God, I love a cock hungry woman.

  My pace quickens in time with her response. She’s getting there.

  “Yes, harder!” she shouts into the mattress. “Fuck. Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, her voice muffled but loud.

  Now.

  I stop moving, my cock still inside her.

  “Fuck,” she groans and grinds back against me. But I don’t move. It takes her a second to realize I’ve stopped. Then she glares over her shoulder, furious. “Fuck me, dammit!”

  I still don’t move, even though every single ounce of my being wants to. I want to finish inside
her, feel her come on my dick.

  Instead, saying nothing, I slide my dick out of her. She rises on her knees and grabs my face in her hands, the top of my hard cock brushing against her stomach. Her face is red and she’s panting, her eyes lit with fire. Fuck, she looks so sexy right now.

  “Don’t you fucking stop.” Even though she might claw my face, I just smile. Her stare is so intense, so sexy, I feel like she’s looking into my soul.

  “I want to see your face when you cum,” I tell her.

  That. And I want to hear you say you love me, I think.

  Taking her by the shoulders I press her back on the Tempurpedic and dig my knees into it. She wraps her legs around my waist and I enter her again. Intent on finishing the job, I keep my eyes on her. Time to hit it out of the park and into the stratosphere.

  It barely takes us any time to reach the peak again. We’re both shouting soon, moaning and gasping and telling each other how fucking amazing it feels to fuck each other, no care for who overhears us. The advantages of farm life.

  But it’s her face as she comes that throws me over the edge. The way her eyes roll back a little and she looks half pained, half ecstatic, her mouth parted, lips full and kissed, body glistening with a sheen of sweat and oil.

  My mouth betrays me. “I love you,” I groan into her neck, just as my own orgasm sweeps through me.

  But she’s cumming so hard, she doesn’t hear me.

  Thank god.

  19

  Rose

  There is nothing like a naked sleeping man.

  Mark is sprawled on his back, relaxed in a deep slumber. With the top sheet tangled at his feet, he is exposed, giving me a wonderful opportunity to explore his athletic body. Although his muscles are relaxed, they are defined and his well-toned chest rises and falls with slow, shallow breaths. His stubble is more prominent now and I toy with the thought of what he would look like in a full beard and how those manly bristles would feel against the softer parts of me.

  Stirring a little, his mouth is slightly open and his eyelids flutter in REM mode. What is he dreaming? Is it about me? Or is he at bat?

  With the slightest kiss of a touch, I work my fingers up his inner thigh. His face breaks into a smile before his eyes open. “Good morning,” he says, his voice low and his eyelids half closed. His dick also stands at half-mast.

  “Good morning.” I kiss his chest and work my way up to his neck, then his mouth. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Like a baby.” He kisses my forehead. “You hungry? I know the perfect place to order in. It’s actually the only place that delivers out here, but it really is good.” He grabs at the phone on the nightstand with one hand and reaches for his boxer shorts on the floor with the other. But I yank the boxers away from him.

  “Nope.” I drop them to the floor. “That’s against the rules.”

  “Rules, huh?”

  “Yes. Today is Naked Saturday. We have to spend the whole day naked.”

  “I like that,” he chuckles. “Are there other rules for Naked Saturday?”

  “Maybe…” I run a finger down his chest. “First rule, I eat first.”

  His eyebrows rise. “Oh really. And what are you eating, dear?”

  I pretend that my chest doesn’t tighten at the sound of him calling me dear. To distract myself, I kiss my way back down his chest. “For starters, you…”

  He leans back on the pillows and arches his hips toward me. “I suppose I could get used to that kind of wake up,” he admits. Though his voice catches at the end as I nibble at his hip.

  His cock is rock hard by the time I reach it. Still I taunt him, skirting around his dick, kissing his thighs, the trimmed, neat hairline around his crotch, even his balls. Mm. He smells so much like him, masculine and sweaty and still a little sexed up from our romp last night. I trail my tongue up to the base of his shaft and circle him, letting his cock brush my soft cheek as I do, savoring his quiet groans.

  Turnabout is fair play. And he teased me enough last night.

  I get him so hard that precum forms at the tip of his shaft before I start to go at him in earnest. Then I lick up and down his dick in long, hard strokes, while my hands toy with his balls. Finally, I let him sink between my lips, but only when his hips start bucking off the bed and he gasps my name a few times.

  It doesn’t take long for him to work up to speed. Pretty soon he’s thrusting up at my mouth, and I can’t get enough of the sounds he’s making, moaning and groaning, totally under my spell. I dig my tongue into the underside of his cock as I suck him off, and that does it, like flicking a trigger. He cries out as he finishes, and I keep going, licking every drop of cum from the tip of him.

  He tastes exactly the way he smells, salty and masculine and familiar, yet unique all at once.

  When I finally lift my head, he’s staring at me with something like shock. I watch him, waiting for that stare to melt into a soft smile, which it does. Then I slide up his body and curl up in his arms again.

  “How’s that for breakfast in bed?” he asks, when he’s recovered enough to speak.

  I smirk. “Pretty damn good.” I lean in to lick his ear. “What’s for dessert?”

  Suffice it to say, it takes us a long while to even place an order with the delivery place he mentioned. Which turns out to be a pizza place.

  I look out the window as I see the sun is going down. “Pizza, of course.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  “Don’t disappoint me,” I say, arching my eyebrow.

  A blush spreads across he cheeks and he grins and shakes his head. We are both thinking the same thing, I’m sure. “Never again. Not sure I can handle the glare of stinging disapproval twice.”

  While Mark orders enough food to feed everyone in Yankee stadium, I check my phone and see Geo has been texting me like a disgruntled ex-boyfriend. It takes me a few minutes to work out what has her in such a tizzy. Turns out that pics of Mark carrying me to the car are all over the interwebs and speculation is soaring. Is Mark cheating on Amber? Did I steal him from her? Or has this been a love triangle all along?

  “Oh…” I gape at my phone.

  “What?”

  I hand him the cell and he squints over it and scrolls. Letting out a sigh, he hands it back to me. “Now you know why I refuse to have a phone.”

  I work my way through more Geo texts and see more layers to the bullshit. “Teenage girls are talking smack about me. They say I’m a man-stealing…”

  “Stop.” Mark takes my phone from my hand and puts it in his nightstand drawer. “You’re going to drive yourself crazy if you keep looking at that stuff.”

  “But…”

  “Come here.”

  I crawl to him on the bed and lay down beside him. He folds me in his arms, then turns my face to his. “I have been riding this fame train for five years now and I’ve learned some important things from Stanley.”

  “Like what?”

  “Don’t feed the trolls.”

  “But it’s not even true!”

  He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m serious.”

  “Is this what it feels like to be popular in high school? With everyone talking about you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, back when we were in high school, you were this super popular jock and everyone gossiped about you. Now it’s like that, but on a way bigger scale. Like all of America is one giant high school.”

  He blinks at me for a few seconds, then leans back on the pillow and laughs. His whole naked body is laughing with him. Even his dick seems to be shaking with mirth.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He rubs his face. “What are you talking about? Everyone knew you in high school, too. Our school only had like 500 kids total.”

  “But you were popular. People talked about you.”

  He laughs again. “People talked about you too.”

  “Sure, but only about what a nerd I was.”

  “No one s
aid that.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes they did.”

  “Who?”

  I try to come up with a name but I’m drawing blanks. “I don’t remember exactly. Your buddies, I’m sure.”

  He shakes his head. “They never said anything like that.”

  “The day you got assigned to me in Mrs. Singletary’s class, Dean whatever his name was acted like you were sentenced to death. And you agreed with him!”

  He presses his lips together and shakes his head. “You misremember.”

  “Pretty sure I remember my high school humiliations accurately.”

  He traces my nipples with his fingers. It tickles, but I don’t stop his hand. “Wrong.”

  “How do you remember it then?”

  He looks away for a second and takes a deep breath. “I remember Dean and the guys teasing me because they knew I had a crush on you.”

  I blink for a couple of seconds. It’s going to take some re-orienting of my memories to work my head around that one. I narrow my eyes at him, positive he’s bullshitting. “You had a crush on me?”

  He meets my eyes for a long, smiling moment. “A big one. I was obsessed with your tits.” He pinches his fingers tighter around my nipples, which start to harden at his touch. “And I loved the way you walked. That ass, dear god. And you were smart. Sexy smart.”

  Now I’m staring at him. “Really?”

  He props himself on his elbow and brushes strands of hair off my face. “And it wasn’t just that. I thought you were hot, but what really got me to notice you was when you epically failed at that talent show…”

  “Oh my god.” I shudder. “I lost a bet with the biology teacher.” Which meant I had to dance alone, on stage. To Destiny’s Child. In front of our entire school.

  “That had to be the worst dance interpretation of Say My Name ever. Was that all your own choreography?” he asks, laughing. “Did you really feel it necessary to do a cartwheel in the middle of the song?”

  I play-slap him. “I know, it was horrible. God, I wanted to die.”

  “But you did it. Everyone thought you were going to chicken out. But you got up on that stage and ruined Beyoncé’s song for everyone.” He smirks. “Anyway, that’s when I first noticed you. And your tits and your ass.” He slaps them each for emphasis. “I guess all of that at the same time. But seriously, I admired your courage.”