Authors: Cheryl McIntyre
Rocky
Maybe I should have asked Link to define
soon
. Once I went into the office, I didn’t see him for the rest of the day. It made concentrating pretty damn hard. Every time someone popped their head inside the door, I expected it to be him.
That much disappointment in one day is frustrating as hell.
I glare at the computer screen as I punch the keys. After I finished organizing and making sense of all the files Link had piled on the desk, I started slowly bringing him into the twenty-first century by transcribing the files electronically. It’s such a time-consuming task, which is exactly why I chose to do it, though he didn’t ask me to.
The door opens, the wood groaning in protest. I don’t even bother to look up this time. I stay in the zone, focused on this menial chore. I hear the leisured footsteps coming closer and can just make out dark shoes from my peripheral vision. The hair on my neck prickles with awareness and my fingers falter.
The air shifts with his momentum and I pick up the distinct scent of that crisp, clean smell I’ve already come to associate with Link. I spin the chair lazily with my foot until I’m facing him.
He props his hip against the side of the desk, watching me. His shirt is a deep navy color, causing his eyes to look more blue than grey. The color also looks good against his skin tone. I’m finding myself growing more attracted to him the longer I know him.
The thought is unsettling.
“You ready?” he asks. “I came by to give you a ride home.”
Shit
. That’s really…
nice
. But not exactly the ride I had been anticipating all day. I shrug my shoulders and pluck my purse from under the desk.
He stands the same time I do, bringing us toe to toe. I’d love to lean in and test his boundaries. Maybe even test my own. Visions of him, me, and the desk flash through my head. The chair. The floor. The wall—
No, not the wall.
Link’s brows draw together in question, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he brings his hand up, the
movement measured. He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, pinching it between his fingers, and running his thumb over the lock as if feeling the texture. I feel every tiny gesture against the side of my neck.
My blood boils with desire. I’m not sure I have ever burned this badly for a man before. It’s hard to swallow. It’s impossible to move
. My heart pounds rapidly inside the concave of my chest. All from his simple touch.
It’s a strange sensation
to feel my heart beat in this way, when it’s not from fear.
No. It
is
from fear. But the kind of fear people chase. The kind the body craves. The kind that makes brains shut down and instinct take over.
“You have beautiful hair,” he husks. I open my mouth to thank him when he continues. “It reminds m
e of Livie’s. Her hair was exactly like this.”
He leans in
, pressing his nose into the crook of my neck and inhales deeply. I shiver as he releases the breath into my hair. “You smell different though. She always had a fruity scent. You smell like vanilla. Women often smell like food. Why is that?”
“Probably because we want to be eaten,” I say, my voice steady though my body feels unstable
and shaky.
He leans back, his eyes
meeting mine. I swear just days ago they were devoid of life. Now they flicker with an intensity that makes me wonder if I reflect or if I’m still empty.
“I’ll
devour you,” he murmurs. “Every sweet inch. Just ask.”
The distant sounds of clanking weights and laughter are the only reasons I don’t take him up on the offer this very second. “
Soon,” I say, parroting his words from earlier. “Take me home.”
***
Other than Joe, and the couple of times my parents dropped in for an impromptu visit, I have never had anyone in my apartment. Asking Link in is like opening myself up to him. It takes a lot of effort to even get the words out.
“Do you…” I suck in a breath, holding it in my puffed cheeks, before releasing it slowly. “I want you to come up with me.”
Link hesitates, his fingers curling around the steering wheel. His gaze is searing. I can see his internal struggle etched in the unsure expression he wears so well. And I can understand it. I want him to say no. I want him to say yes. I’m not sure I know what I want.
My hand slides over the door handle. I’m ready to get the hell out. I think I
changed my mind. This is too personal. It’s too much. I can’t do this.
He opens his door, making the decision for me.
We make our way to my door and my hands are shaking by the time I place the key into the lock. It has nothing to do with Link or what I’m inviting him in for. It’s that this is my home. My personal space. I haven’t allowed someone this close in a long, long time.
I step inside first and walk directly into the living room, dropping my purse on the chair. I clear my throat softly and turn in time to see Link shut the door behind him.
“Do you want something to drink?” I ask. Because I do. I want a lot of drinks. Something strong with a severe burn.
“I’m good.” His eyes drop away, sweeping the room. My apartment isn
’t much to look at. It’s small and sparse. I’m not a knick-knacky kind of person. Or too many pillows on the couch kind of person, either. The less I have, the less there is to clean.
Link moves toward the wall displaying a few of my paintings from high school. I haven’t really painted anything wall-worthy since then. His gaze moves over them
, one by one, with rapt perusal.
“Did you do these?” He glances at me over his shoulder and I nod. “Joe mentioned you were an artist,” he continues. “These are good.”
“Thanks,” I reply. And then there’s a heavy silence.
This is uncomfortable.
I don’t do this. Not anymore. I don’t do the whole conversation thing. Not like this, at least.
One of us has to set the foundation on whatever this is between us. It might as well be me. I move toward him, doing what I do best. I slide my tongue along my bottom lip seductively, and then I smile at him. “Hungry?”
He smiles back and the muscles in my belly tighten in response. That smile. That smile could move mountains. It’s the kind of smile that makes me want Link more than I already did. It makes me want things I never thought I’d want again.
“Famished,” he states, the gravelly tone to his voice making it apparent what he’s craving. Before, Link was always careful with me. His touch was always gentle and unhurried. Not now. He grips my waist, tugging me toward him. One hand presses into my back, the other snakes around, cupping that space just under my ass cheek. He drags his tongue up the side of my neck, stopping just below my ear. He draws the lobe into his mouth
, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as he releases a breath. All the different sensations he’s causing are dizzying. He’s lit me on fire in a matter of seconds, but everything inside of me is freezing up.
I press my hands into his chest, backing him away. Even as I do it, I want him closer.
These two opposing sides are a curse I can’t outrun.
“I need a minute. This is…too much.”
Without hesitation, Link’s hands fall away. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“What I want isn’t easy to explain.” I laugh at myself. I’m out of my element. Maybe I’m destined to bar bathrooms with strangers forever. Maybe it’s all I’m capable of.
Link
I should probably leave.
Maybe I should put as much distance between us as I can. For her sake. And for my own.
Maybe
. But I don’t. I want her. My body craves her. Right now, in this moment, she’s my freedom.
One step closes the distance between us. I raise my hand carefully, gliding it
feather-light along her arm. I feel goose bumps erupt under my touch. “Is this okay?” I ask. There’s an emotion in my voice that doesn’t belong there. Because I can’t stop thinking that maybe I’m freeing her too.
Rocky’s lips part, her
eyes shift to mine. She holds my gaze as she breathes one word. “Yes.” The sound alone has my cock thickening, hardening in my jeans.
One fucking word
.
I apply more pressure to my fingertips as I sweep them along her shoulder. She shivers, the motion bringing her closer to me somehow. “This?”
I continue.
“Yes.” Her voic
e is soft and low. Hesitant and sensual at the same time.
My other hand comes up, mimicking my movements on her other arm. When she doesn’t stop me, I continue on to her face. I graze the back
s of my fingers along her cheek. She nuzzles into my hand, letting me know it’s okay.
That same desire to kiss her flares to life, but
I hold it at bay. I drag my thumb over her bottom lip instead. I can feel her breath, moist and warm, as I pull down on her lip. My thumb comes away damp and I stick it into my mouth, tasting. My eyes close and I growl deep within my throat. That taste. Her taste. Addicting.
When I open my eyes, Rocky is
still watching me, her gaze ravenous. My dick twitches with eagerness.
From j
ust one look
.
She hooks her fingers into the hem of my shirt and pushes it up gradually, exposing my h
eated skin inch by inch. My need for her is becoming a carnal being all its own. I raise my arms and she guides it off, dropping it to the floor.
We both stand
motionless, waiting. I don’t want to move in fear I’ll do something she isn’t ready for. I fight against every instinct, begging to strip her bare and bury myself inside her.
Finally, she raises her hand hesitantly, pausing in midair between our bodi
es. The indecision is the sweetest form of torture. I slide my tongue across my lips, hungry for her touch. And then she places her palm against my stomach. My muscles tighten beneath her warm caress. Rocky’s hand on me, skin to skin, feels unbelievable. This slow execution, this gentle buildup, is driving me crazy. She has no idea how gone I am.
I want her.
Goddamn
. I fucking want her.
I w
atch the pulse in her neck beat quickly, in time with her heart, as she spreads her fingers wide against me. She glides her hand upward, brushing my ribs, sweeping over my pec muscle, and then she cups her hand around the back of my neck. She rises onto her toes as she does so, pressing her chest to mine.
It feels right. Our bodies merging.
My hands are begging to grasp her waist. My body pleads to grind against her. But I continue to stay immobile, allowing her to lead now that she’s taken charge.
Her lips, soft
and wet, meet my throat. The kiss is light, barely there, but it’s enough to make my cock throb. I’m aching for her.
“I want to try something,” she says quietly. Her dark eyes stare into mine, waiting for approval or permission. I swallow thickly and nod, one jerk of
my head. She can do whatever the fuck she wants to me right now.
I groan as she scrapes her body down mine
, agonizingly slow. I flex my fingers. I fist them. I press them into the sides of my thighs.
She kneels in front of me and I watch in fascination as she maneuvers the button on my jeans effortlessly.
Fuck. I want this. I want her hand wrapped around me. I want inside her mouth
.
She drags the
zipper down, releasing my hard-on. There’s a moment of uncertainty as she stares at me. I hold my breath, waiting, refusing to rush her, but wanting to guide her exactly where I need her.
Without an ounce of gentleness, she yanks my boxers down. My cock springs free. Her tongue darts out,
moistening her lips, and my balls tighten in reaction.
I don’t usually watch. I usua
lly can’t. My eyes follow every one of Rocky’s movements as she cautiously leans forward, wraps her small hand around me uncertainly, and then, almost timidly, circles her tongue around the head. Her warmth is inviting and I want more.
So much more
. I shudder with yearning.
Something flickers in her eyes—some kind of self-assurance I never noticed was missing until I witness the transformation right in front of me.
Her mouth opens and she takes me inside. I throw my head back, sighing with pleasure.
Yes. That’s what I wanted. What I needed
.
I want to thrust into her, but I hold back.
Fuck
, I hold back and it’s the best form of agony. A moan echoes in my throat as she begins to bob her head, taking me further. Every stroke of her tongue feels better than the last, bringing me close to orgasm in record time.
My animalistic need takes over and I’m no longer able to resist. I work
my fingers into her hair. The silky coolness of the strands slipping between my fingers adds to my pleasure. I’m going to erupt.
Her eyes lift, meeting mine, and the confident satisfaction so clear in her gaze pushes me there. She likes what she’s doing to me—the effect it has on me. The power her actions hold over me. It’s hot as hell.
“I’m close,” I rasp. I want to come in her mouth. I want to spill all over her tongue. I want it, but I don’t expect it.
But damn,
I want it
.
She doesn’t stop. Instead she moans, the vibration against my flesh throwing me over the edge. I come hard, releasing inside her.
Trembles rock my body as she accepts it all. I can’t take my eyes off her mouth. Her tongue greedily laps at the tip, until there’s nothing left. I like the image too damn much.
I toe my shoes off, one at a time, and kick my jeans onto the floor.
I’m far from sated. If anything, Rocky just made me want her more. I drop to my knees in front of her. Her lips are red and swollen. Beautiful.
Kissable
.
I place my hand on her chest, guiding her back to a lying position. I pull her pants off, pausing before I go for her panties. “Is this okay?”
She nods, her attention focused on my hands. When she’s naked from the waist down, I take my time, letting my fingers caress her skin. When I make a sweep along her inner thigh, she makes a sound that has me rock hard again.
“Is this okay?” I ask, though her whimper of approval has already made that clear.
“Yes,” she says on a sigh.
“And this?” I ask as I dip into her wetness. She bucks into my hand.
“Yes,” she groans between gritted teeth.
I lower my mouth between her legs. I nuzzle into her thigh, pressing my lips against her warm skin. I can
smell her arousal and I want her taste in my mouth. “And this?” I kiss her mound softly. She arches into me, but I keep the pace deliberately relaxed. I smile against her when she doesn’t answer me. Her breaths come quicker, shallower.
I
run my tongue between her folds, massaging her clit. “This?” I ask, my mouth still against her.
She grips my hair, holding me in place. “Yes,” she cries. “God, yes, Link. I want it all.”