Fully Automatic (Bullet) (29 page)

“Feel like you do?”

“Yeah, like we’re kindred spirits or something.”

Her words then felt genuine, as though she wanted a reason to care about him.  He paused, but then he said, “Yeah, it’s a girl.”  He stared into his coffee cup.

“I already knew that.  What’s the problem?  What’s she done to make you glum?”

“Nothing, really.”

“BS.”

“No, really.  She…”  Brad shook his head.  He was going to sound pathetic, but why did he care?  This woman didn’t know him.  What she thought about him wouldn’t change his life.  “She’s been in love with my best friend forever, and they just hooked up.”

“But…?”

“But there’s been something between her and me, has been from the first time we met.  And it’s not like I didn’t let her know how I feel.”

“Oh.  Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

He could feel the side of her
left foot—still in its boot—rubbing against the inside of his lower leg and then she put her right foot on the other side, trapping his leg in between hers.  “Let’s get out of here.”  He looked at her.  “Maybe forget our problems for a while.”  He raised his eyebrows.

He was tempted, but no fucking way was he taking a girl back to his place, whether he had the bedroom for the night or not.  That was Nick’s thing.  It seemed stupid, but he didn’t want Valerie to know. 
He shrugged.  “Can’t go to my place.”

“Why not?”

“I have four roommates.  It’s a little crowded.”

She nodded and then he saw her expression change.  “And the girl and best friend are two of them?”  All he could do was move his head up and down in affirmation.  “Well…we could go back to my place, but you can’t spend the night.”

He agreed in two seconds flat…because he had nothing to lose.

Chapter Thirty-four

JO, ALSO KNOWN as Sugar, barely got the key out of the lock before she and Brad started tugging at their clothes once they were inside the door.  She’d managed to get them both worked up on the drive to her apartment.  She’d started by nibbling on his ear, and he’d pulled her into a kiss at a red light, but then she started snaking her fingers up his jeans, teasing him through the denim, running her fingernail up the zipper, creating a vibration that made his dick hard as a rock.  Then she squeezed his thigh.

He was already wondering if he could make it when she unzipped her own jeans and said, “Not fair that you’re hard and I’m not.”  She stuck a hand down her pants and started playing with herself, panting and moaning.  “Oh, I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

His sentiments exactly.  She’d given him vague directions, and if she didn’t pay attention, he was just gonna pull over and fuck her brains out.  At the next stoplight, he asked, “Which way?”

“Mmm.”  She rolled her head to one side and opened her eye.  “Straight ahead one more block, and then turn left.”

Left?  Fuck.  It would have been nice if she’d warned him earlier.  He was in the right-hand lane.  Well, traffic wasn’t too heavy.  He could make his way over there once the light turned green.  Stressing about that managed to help him stay under control, but when he parked, she was all over him again.  So by the time they’d gotten to their destination, he thought he was going to explode.

Inside her apartment, t
hey both got unzipped, and he found it all the more exciting that he was going to fuck her with those goddamned boots on.  He slid his finger inside her tiny panties, and she was slick with need.  He was going to make sure she got off first, because he knew he wasn’t going to last for long once he started.  She was breathing hard.  “Feel good?”

“Oh, God.”  She started moaning, then screaming, and Brad thought he was gonna blow.  She was fucking crazy.  Then she said, “God, I need you inside me.”

He stuck his tongue back in her mouth while fumbling in his back pocket for his wallet.  He felt around for a condom, his hands meeting behind her back, and he found one, dropping the wallet to the floor.  He got it on just in time, because she was tugging on the side of his jeans, pulling them down farther, and then when he had the condom on, she started digging her nails in his neck.  He lifted her up and turned around so that her back was against the door, using the wall to hold her in place, and then he drove himself into her.  She started moaning again, and he kept telling himself to hold off, hold off, don’t blow it yet.

She bit his shoulder—
hard
—and that was it.  He couldn’t contain it anymore.  He could feel it clear to his balls and it felt so fucking good.  It was like his whole body was shoving itself through his cock and he was gonna die…but it was gonna be a good fucking death.  He even heard himself groan. 
What the fuck?
  He’d never done that before.  He figured that was what happened when he went way too long without the company of a woman.

He wasn’t going to let that happen again.

Yeah, he could take care of himself, had for years, but there was nothing like being inside a woman, especially a beautiful one who smelled like cinnamon and kept demanding him in between breaths to
fuck her good.

Well, he felt like a
complete asshole, but he had to ask.  “You were able to finish, weren’t you?”

She giggled.  “I was on my third one.  I was plenty done,
stud, but don’t think
you
are.  We’re just taking a short break, and then I’m gonna ride the fuck out of you.”  She grabbed his cock—
holy shit,
that was a shock to his system—and peeled the rubber off his dick.

He let out a chuckle.  He didn’t think he had another one in him.  “I think I need to
rest a minute.”  He tucked himself back in and zipped up.  He turned around and got a good look around her apartment.  It was small—smaller than his, even—and so it felt busy.  The kitchen and living room were the same room, but the space was tiny.  It didn’t feel cluttered or crowded, but it looked like it would take him hours to look at everything crammed in the place.  It was neat too—just packed.  There were floor to ceiling bookshelves all along one wall in the living room, and she had fabric draped on all the furniture, little knick knacks on all the shelves and books too.  Candles, doilies, pictures—not an inch of space went unutilized.  It felt like a mall at Christmas.  He picked his wallet up off the floor and walked toward the chair.  “Mind if I sit down?”  He made a mental note that he needed to get a wallet chain.  Not only were they bad ass, but it’d keep the damn wallet attached to his jeans in moments of weakness like the one he’d just experienced.

She shook her head.  “Go ahead.  Can I get you something to drink?”

Much as he’d love a beer right now, he didn’t dare.  She didn’t want him staying the night, and a beer would ensure fatigue.  It was so late anyway, but he was grateful for one thing—he felt better than he had in weeks.  “I’d love a glass of water.”

He heard her giggle.  “Oh, I like that.  You took me seriously.”

He rested his head on the back of the chair and stretched his legs.  “About what?”

“Well, you’re avoiding whiskey dick.  I appreciate that.”  Brad started laughing and he heard her pouring water from the tap into the glass.  “You want ice?”

“Up to you.”

She walked over to the chair and handed him the water.  Her jeans were still unzipped but she’d pulled them back up.  God…he hadn’t even had a chance to touch her breasts.  How the fuck had she managed to get him so worked up when an hour ago he’d been convinced he wanted nothing to do with her?  Amazing.

She had a drink too, but hers looked a little stronger than water.  She set it on the coffee table and then sat on the couch and opened a wooden box that rested on top of a square piece of red velvet.  She pulled out a joint and lighter and was holding a flame to the spliff before he even realized what she was doing.  God, that looked good, and she leaned over toward the chair, holding the joint toward him.  “Honey, you want me to leave tonight, I don’t dare get high.”

She shrugged.  “Suit yourself.”  She took another puff and then said, “Just tell me when you’re ready to go again.”

He chuckled again.  Jesus, she was gonna eat him alive—and he liked the idea.  She was crazy, good crazy, and he couldn’t believe he’d been trying to turn her down earlier.  She was winding up being the best accidental thing that had happened to him in a long time.

But then, as she pinched off the end of the joint into the amber-colored ashtray next to the box and leaned her head against the back of the couch, he started wondering again what
she
was getting out of all this.  He drew in another deep breath and hoped he could trust his instincts.  This girl seemed harmless, though maybe a little lonely.

After another minute or two, she got up and turned on her stereo.  She was playing some weird Middle Eastern music, something exotic, and then she walked around the apartment with her lighter.  He hadn’t noticed all the candles in the busyness of the room until she lit them all up one by one
—he’d seen a few, but he had no idea she’d had dozens.  Then she turned off the light.  She tossed the lighter onto the coffee table and stood in front of Brad’s chair, her hand extended.  He took it and stood, shaking his head.  “I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

She smiled.  “I didn’t think so, but I want us to move to the bedroom anyway.”

He nodded and took her hand but didn’t use her to help him up.  He stood and that was when he could tell she really had worn him out.  Still…he wasn’t going to turn her down.  As soon as he was ready, he was going to take her up on her offer for a second go.

He hadn’t even taken his jacket off yet, so he did and threw it on the
chair, then followed her to her bedroom.

It too felt busy.  The woman owned a lot of
shit, but it felt exotic somehow, and everything, big or little, had a place.  Maybe that was what was making Brad feel weird about it.  There was no room for anything else, and each item in her house had to have a specific place, because there was no room for deviation.  She just plain had a lot of stuff, but it was cool looking stuff.  Her bed was the only place in the bedroom—aside from the floor—where it felt like there was room to move.  “Why don’t you sit down?” she asked.

He shrugged.  “Okay.”

“Better yet, lay down.”

He smiled.  He liked the sound of that, so he leaned over and untied his boots.  Then he lay back on the bed, several pillows propping him up.  Most of them appeared to be for decoration, just like most of her house.  They were comfortable, though.  Jo said, “I wanted to see you looking at me like you mean it.”

“Mean what?”

“Well,” she said, starting to do a swaying pelvic thrust in rhythm to the music coming from the other room, “back at the club, you acted like you wanted to be anywhere but where you were.  I’m not used to men looking at me that way.  I prefer them looking at me like no other women exist, even if it’s only for a few minutes.”

He wanted to ask her if she was going to expect payment from him later, but she’d promised she wasn’t working.  “I’m going to tell you something…Brad.”  He tried not to smile.  She’d almost forgotten his name.  “I love my boyfriend, but he’s a domineering jerk sometimes.  He’s not always tender and gentle when I need him to be.  Problem is he’s my boss too.  And I sometimes think maybe I’m not his only girlfriend, if you catch my drift.”  He nodded.  Maybe the two of them had a lot more in common than he’d suspected.  “So I don’t want anything messy, but you are super cute and pretty damn hot, and I just need to forget my problems tonight.  Got it?”

He nodded, now entranced. 
That had been the first time in a long time a girl had told him he was hot, so not only had she made him feel incredible, she was stroking his wounded ego too.  She pulled the tank top over her head and swirled it a couple of times, then threw it to the floor in a flourish.  She turned around, facing her closet, and stuck her ass out at him, running her hands up and down over it, and he started feeling twinges in his cock again.  Oh, fuck, yeah.  She wanted to see his eyes filled with lust, she was gonna get it.

She turned around and peeled her jeans down one side and then the other, down to w
here the boots hit her thighs.  Goddamn, he wished she could leave those on, but to take her jeans off, she was going to have to take the boots off too.  She unzipped them, one at a time, and the way she did it was sensual.  The look on her face, the way she moved her mouth and tongue and the little noises she made were making it seem like one of the most erotic things Brad had ever seen.  It was like foreplay.

And then she slid the jeans off too.  They’d been snug but she somehow made them fall off her like silk.  She did some sexy dance moves around the tiny area in her bedroom and then stuck her ass toward him again.  She was wearing a thong, so her gorgeous ass was in full view.  She had a decorative tramp stamp just over the string on her lower back that said
Bitch
with swirls underneath it.  She ran her thumbs under the strings and pulled them down, teasing, then back up to her hips.  Then she turned around, moving up to her tiny bra, and as she started pulling the straps down, that’s when his cock came to full attention.  The blood was pumping down there hard, engorging his cock and making him ready to fuck her again.

He knew she wasn’t disappointed in his response this time.

She pulled the bra off and he thought he was going to lose his mind.  He had no idea if they were fake, but they were big and beautiful, and he thought his jaw was going to hit the floor as she touched herself.  But she moved back down to the barely there panties and teased them off too.

She then danced her way closer to the bed.  Her eyes were dark.  She knew the power she had over him
, and he could tell she was most definitely pleased at his response this time.  She pranced over to him, grabbed his chin, and gave him a look.  He wasn’t sure what she was thinking.  “You like the boots, don’t you?”

He couldn’t contain his enthusiasm.  “Hell, yeah.”

She turned back around, making sure he could appreciate her ass, and then she sat on the end of the bed, sliding the boots back on.  She then turned and got on the bed on all fours.  Jesus Christ, he thought he might come just looking at her.  “You and me—we’re gonna get together again, stud, and I’m gonna be bossy, but tonight I just wanna make you forget about the bitch who broke your heart.”

She straddled him and he started to protest.  “She’s not a bi—”  But she covered his mouth with hers and he couldn’t talk.  Instead, he thought he was going to be buried alive under her kiss
, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.  This woman was beautiful and she was his, even if for just a short time.  And it dawned on him, as she began pulling at his jeans, that she had just made him a promise that they were going to have another night together.  He wanted to make sure he’d survive this one first.

She pulled his cock out of his underwear and stroked him, eliciting another moan out of his mouth.  Holy fuck, this woman.  She giggled and then reached over to her nightstand, p
ulling out a condom.  She had it unwrapped and on him in seconds, and he was glad, because that muted the feeling just enough that he thought he’d be able to enjoy the full gamut of sensations before he came this time.