One Last Shot (Pub Fiction #3) (11 page)

“What’s wrong, Sugarshack?” he asks, moving closer to me again. I feel the familiar pull in my groin.

I can’t believe you slept with me and all along you’ve had a Joy!
I want to scream, but I can’t. I’ve lost the ability to think.
Why the hell am I so upset? I need to get away from him. Matty Bishop fucks me up.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” I know he knows I’m lying. The tremble in my voice is my stupid tell, it’s always been my tell.

“You jealous of Joy?” he scrutinizes.

Yes.
“No.” It comes out more deflatedly than I want it to.

“She’s just my decorator, baby. My mom’s friend. It was my mom’s ‘welcome to home ownership and life-long debt’ gift. Joy.” He moves in, engulfing me in his hold, and I let out an audible exhalation at his admission. “The happily married Joy,” he says, his fingers playing with a lock of my hair.

“You’re an asshole, Matty.” I bat his hand from my hair; he wipes a tear that’s pooled in the corner of my right eye. “Glad to know you’re not a complete asshole who’s been seeing someone while fucking around with me, though. Good,” I say, flinching at my own accusing words, seeing the hurt cross his handsome face. I know I’m a dick for voicing it, but I guess this is just my way to put back some much-needed space between us. “I mean, not that it would matter. We can only be friends anyway,” I smile. It’s a pathetic attempt, but I’m sinking into the quicksand that is Matt and my defences are dwindling.
Where are my trolls and their flaming torches? They must still be sleeping this early in the day. I knew I shouldn’t have come here.

“Never anything serious, Claire.” He grips my hips, pulling me flush to his body, his hardness making itself known. “How could I? Fuck, even after two years of not hearing a peep from you, like the pussy-whipped asshole I am I still only ever think of you. Sure, I’ve fucked chicks,” I blanch at that comment, hating the rush of jealousy I have no right to feel even as it consumes me. “But never here, and they’ve never been close to filling the void that you left when you ran from me. They’ve never been you.” He dips his nose to my neck, breathes me in deep. “You’re still my only goddamned thought when it comes to wanting a relationship. It’s only ever been you, baby—always only you.” He leans down and runs his tongue softly across my lips, eliciting a moan. “Can’t you feel how much I want you, Sugarshack?” He digs into my hips, grinding his cock against me.

“Matty. We can’t.”

It’s a weak protest, we both know it. I try to pull away, but he shifts us, backing me up until my legs hit the armchair. With a fluid motion he twists us at the last minute so I land in his lap, meeting in an intense gaze, face-to-face. The exact position we were in at Pub Fiction. Heat floods my body at the memory, and instinctively I grind down on Matt’s lap, seeking the friction I know we both crave.

“You’re so pretty when you lie about not wanting me, ‘friend’,” he taunts, lowering his face to kiss my cheek, running his lightly-scruffed chin over my neck. My nipples harden immediately at his touch. Pulling up my shirt, he moves his hands there, taking them between his fingers and rolling them, while I move up and down over his jogging pants.

“What are you doing to me, Matty?” I ask with a breathy moan, his teeth scraping from one nipple to the next as I arch my back, a silent signal to keep going.

“I’m being a good friend, Sugarshack,” he says, pulling away and then moving us to a standing position. I’m so hot and bothered I can’t find the right words to tell him where he and his friendship can go.

“Now,” he pulls me back into a hug. “Let’s get that coffee before I decide we’re gonna be friends with benefits.” The bastard gives me a knowing glance, his hands patting my bum.

“Bathroom. Where’s the bathroom?” I say, jerking myself out of my Matt trance.

Chapter 17

Matt

I
really should
brush my teeth, but I can’t seem to muster the desire to rid myself of Claire’s sweet sugary taste just yet.
My Sugarshack.

And just like that my cock twitches to life at the memories from this morning. Fuck, this girl is gonna be the death of me.
“Friends”, my ass.
Pulling down the waistband of my trackpants, my rock-hard cock springs out into my hand. I reach for some lube, warming the cool gel in my palm before gliding my hand up and down the shaft to jerk myself off, replaying Claire’s visit for the third time since she’s left…

I’m about halfway down the hall after showing Claire the washroom when I hear it.

No, when I hear her.

Is she moaning?
I wait for a moment but hear nothing else.

Thinking I must be hearing things, I continue to the kitchen. Then I hear the sounds that’ve been plaguing my favourite dreams and jerk off sessions for years.

Claire’s in my washroom, masturbating.

Like a stealth ninja, I make my way back to the spot where I’ve left her. I can’t believe my ears, she
is
moaning. Bracing myself on the door to listen more closely, my pulse starts pounding in my ears in clear recognition of that sweet sound. My cock instantly jumps at the images I conjure of Claire on the other side of the door, rubbing one off. The thought that it’s because I’ve gotten her so riled up makes me tighten my grip on the doorframe to the point it makes a cracking sound. As soon as another less subtle moan escapes from the opposite side of the door, I’m a fucking goner. There’s no way I can stand here without seeing my girl finger-fucking herself. It’s when I hear my name fall from her lips that any and all resolve I may have had is shot, and within a nanosecond I’m barging through the door.

“Oh Jesus, Matty!” Claire’s husky voice stops me in my tracks. She’s standing, one leg propped on the closed toilet seat, head hanging back, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes closed.

At the sound of my loud gasp, her head jerks in my direction, eyes snapping open at the intrusion. The pure erotic pleasure in her steely blue eyes as they meet mine, while her fingers continue to move over her sweet spot while she’s getting herself off, is enough to almost bring me to my knees.

“I’m here, baby. Fuck. Let me do this for you. All you had to do was ask.” I say, moving directly behind her, lowering my mouth to whisper into her ear. “I’ll always do this for you.” Without a fight, she allows me to reposition her so she’s facing me. “You’re so fucking sexy right now I can barely breathe. You smell amazing, best air freshener ever.” I nip at her neck. “Fuck, I need to figure out how to bottle your smell, Claire.” I take her bottom lip between mine, giving it a gentle tug.

As she wraps her arms around my neck, I take the opportunity to pull off her small green tank, leaving her in just an inky black bra. In a swift move, I inch down her body, dragging my teeth along the way. The appearance of tiny goosebumps along with her shallow breathing tells me she likes it. I push her gently from my kneeling position, forcing her to press her back against the wall for support. Support she’s gonna need.

Looking up, I see she’s looking straight down at me. Watching. Waiting. Calling me on.

“You always did look hot on your knees, you know. Still looks good,” she says and tilts her head, resting her hand on the top of my head, pulling me a bit forward before releasing a tiny smirk.

“I’m going to fucking devour you, Sugarshack. Can’t wait to taste you. Now turn around. Gimme that ass in my face.”

She complies, and lifts her hands above her head. “You’re stunning, Claire. You’re so fucking beautiful. I’ve dreamt of you so often.” I trail kisses over her lower back before moving down to that unbelievable ass of hers.

“Oh, Matty,” she calls, looking over her shoulder as I slide down. I run my hands along her legs and glide my tongue over each delicious cheek, each luscious mound, and she starts to buck at the attention I’m giving her.

“Spread your legs wide, baby.” I grab her sweet ass, separating her cheeks. Claire tilts her hips up, then writhes as I trail my tongue along her pussy slit from top to bottom before moving myself into a better position in between her legs. Sliding my finger over her folds, her wetness coats me. “So fucking wet for me.” I make a pop sound as I lick my finger from bottom to top. “Your taste is so mouthwatering, I’m fucking salivating thinking of getting my mouth on you. I’m gonna make you come so hard, Sugarshack,” I say as the sounds of her wetness permeate the air, her juices helping my fingers slide so easily as I thrust them in and out of her sweet cunt at an unrelenting pace. Inserting two fingers, I move them in perfect sync, her pussy walls gripping my fingers as they slide in and out.
Yeah, this girl is greedy.
Her moans drive me crazy as she tries in vain to get my face where she craves it most. I continue my assault, driving her closer to the brink, then finally run my tongue down her ass to her clit, causing her to buck and grind down on my hand.

“Oh, my God. Fuck, Matty. I’m coming, I’m fucking coming! Oh my fucking fuck!”

With that I pull back. “Matt. No. Please don’t stop. I…please, don’t stop. Keep it going, it’s so good.” Her voice trembles.

“I know, baby. But I need you to turn back around, need to see your face while you come.
Really
come. ’Cause I’m just getting started.” Once she’s leaning back against the wall, eyes securely on me, I pull up her leg and drop it over my shoulder. “Perfect. That’s what I want, baby.” I’ve just given myself an all-access pass.
Fuck, she smells and tastes so goddamn good.
My cock is raging behind the material of my joggers, dying to get in on the action. I adjust myself before taking one last look up at Claire’s lust-filled face. “Lose the bra. I wanna see those tits shaking while I fuck you with my mouth.”

Not always one to be compliant, for once Claire does what she’s told, and I gloat at the victory as her fabulous tits spring free. She tosses her bra, landing it on my head.

“You think you’re funny?” I toss it behind me. “Fuck, look at you. All hot and ready for me like this. You want my tongue now? You want me to give you more of that relief you’re chasing?” She moans, tugging a longer strand of my hair. “Do you know how fucking incredible it is finding you like this? It’s made my fucking day, Claire. Made. My. Fucking. Day.” I punctuate each word, trailing my nose softly along the path from her stomach to her pubic bone.

“Matty. Please,” she huffs out, barely audible, her hands now twisting in my hair.

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“Enough talking, Matt,” she says, tugging my hair back, forcing me to look up, “just eat my pus—”

Before she gets the word out, I’m on it. I run my tongue over the inner part of her thigh, a spot which I know is her most tender. I kiss it, lick it, and make tiny circles on the smooth patch of skin with the tip of my tongue, offering a preview of what’s to come.

“Stop teasing, Matty. Finish. I need to come again,” she begs. I love making Claire desperate with anticipation and want. I can feel her body tremble as I move from thigh to thigh. After a few passes, and after getting her dangerously close to where I know she wants me most, I stop. She moans and my dick jumps with excitement; I’ve got her where I want her. Shifting her so her leg is secure, I trail my tongue up from her ankle along the inside of her leg, holding her gently while I lick up to the soft crease where it meets her pussy. Then I nuzzle my face into the heart of her sweetness, inhaling that sweet strawberry scent I’ve craved over the years since she’s been gone.

“So fucking edible, so bloody delicious.” I brush my lips over her swollen clit, not pressing down, only adding to her torture.

“Please, Matty. I can’t take it.” She tugs on my hair harder while bucking forward, straining to get me closer to where she wants me. Reaching around, I grip her ass as I move my lips right on top of her slick wet slit, and begin kissing her there.

“Ah, shit,” she cries, her body spasming then going lax as I kick up my attack. I separate her lips and begin to vibrate my tongue between her folds, causing her legs to shake as I repeat the movements over and over. Reaching up, I grab her nipple, pulling the hard bud, making myself moan. “You’re making me so fucking hard, Claire. God, you taste so fucking sweet. Missed this.”

“Yes, fuck, Matty, right there,” she tells me as I’ve spread her wider, my tongue fucking her and driving at her exposed clit. I flick it with my tongue, applying the right amount of pressure, knowing it will make Claire go off like a fucking rocket. I start sucking it now, pulling it in and out of my lips like it’s the juiciest piece of fruit I’ve tasted, driving her wild. “Yes, that, that, Matt. Fuck, harder, yes, yes!”

She’s undulating, barely able to stand, and in one fluid motion I release her leg, managing to catch her, able to guide us to the floor and continue lapping up every last drop of her orgasm as she bucks and moans beneath me. I take all she gives me, while she’s willing to give it. I move her to rest on me, hoping she isn’t too pissed when she finally comes to.

“I think I banged my elbow on the toilet during the flop and turn,” Claire giggles after a few minutes of silence, her head resting on my stomach.

If I could only convince her that we’re better off together than apart, all would be right in my world. But, of course, Claire Knox is the most stubborn girl to grace the face of the earth.

Reaching for a towel now to clean the jizz off my stomach, I’m getting pissed off again. After the washroom fun, things got awkward between us and quick. Claire erected her walls again almost instantaneously, telling me again how this wasn’t what we should be doing. Just like the night at Pub Fiction shouldn’t have happened.

“Matt, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that happen. I don’t want to lead you on. I want us to be friends. We can’t keep letting this happen. I don’t want more.”

She said we needed to be friends without benefits, despite my suggestion. Hey, I had to try. I’ll take all I can get, but man, I really do need all of her.

Other books

Promposal by Rhonda Helms
And Home Was Kariakoo by M.G. Vassanji
Casting Spells by Bretton, Barbara
Dogwood by Chris Fabry
Creature by Saul, John
Graceling by Kristin Cashore
Operation Soulmate by Diane Hall
Second Hand Heart by Hyde, Catherine Ryan