Rex (9 page)

“Jesus, that feels good.”

“Hmmm,” she hums against my dick, “you’re so hard,” she moans again, and my hands dive into her hair, hips rolling toward her. Knowing what I want, she opens and surrounds me with those sultry lips, sliding my cock in and out of her mouth, gripping me hard. Her hand does this twisting and pulling thing as she sucks me off that’s driving me insane.

“Take me deep,” I pant, and she brings her hands under to cup my ass, pulling me in deeper, my cock hitting the back of her throat.

“Christ,” I growl, before reaching down and grabbing my dick, guiding myself in and out of her mouth as she takes me hard and fast. “Shit, I’m gonna come,” I grit out, my body jerking from the sheer force of my climax. She doesn’t budge, though, finishing me off, swallowing every last drop from my cock. When she finally lifts her head, she’s got a wicked grin on her face.

“You see,” she rubs a finger over her swollen lips, “I’ve got mad skills, too.”

I shake my head, pulling her back up to me and kissing her, my taste all over her lips. “Yeah, you do.”

There’s an awkward silence that fills the air as we lie next to one another, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it. It doesn’t last long, though, because Vanessa sits up and scoots off the bed, plucking her bra from the carpet.

“So,” she hesitates, “I should probably get going.”

I sit up and scratch my head, tossing the sheets off. “You can… stay if you want. We can… hang out… watch a movie or something? Although, I don’t know if I have any movies you’ll like. I’m not into chick flicks.”

“Chick flicks,” she repeats, strapping her bra on and taking a seat back on the bed. “What makes you think I like chick flicks? I’ll have you know, I was a tomboy growing up.”

“Oh really?” My eyes roam her body. “That’s hard to believe. There’s nothing boyish about you.”

She playfully smacks my arm. “I used to climb trees and play with those little, green army men. Oh, and I had a thing for G.I. Joe.”

“All right,” I challenge, slinging myself over the bed, collecting my boxers and shrugging them on. “Game on. Let’s go check out my movie collection and you can tell me if anything looks good. I’ll be honest, though, there’s a lot of death and destruction out there.”

“That’s cool.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder as she walks away. “I’m into death and destruction.”

“Seriously?” I shake my head and laugh as I follow after her into the living room. She makes a beeline right for my movie collection.

“No way!” She kneels on the floor, thumbing through the stacks of DVDs in the cabinet. “You have my favorite movie.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” I grab two bottled waters from the fridge, then walk back out to the living room. I twist the caps off and set them on the table before sinking down into the couch.

“
Die Hard
.” She holds the DVD up in her hand with a big smile.

You’ve got to be shitting me.

“Bullshit.” I smirk, because there’s no fucking way that could possibly be her favorite movie.

“No, seriously,” she gestures with her hands in the air, “I’m a huge Bruce Willis fan and Bruce Willis barefoot, well….”

“So you want to watch
Die Hard
?” My voice raises in pitch, shock making it difficult to digest this newly discovered fact about her.

“Yeah. But I need popcorn. Do you have any?” She pushes to her feet, sauntering into the kitchen in just her bra, that hot little skirt, and of course, no panties.

I’m still thinking about what’s underneath her skirt when she calls from the kitchen, “Do you have anything here? Where’s all your food?”

“I’ve got food,” I yell back, making my way into my kitchen that’s more like a rabbit hole. When I walk in, she’s on her tiptoes, reaching up to a cabinet. I come up behind her, rubbing my cock, which is already hard again, against her ass. “What do you want?” I whisper just above her ear. “What are you hungry for?” I place a wet kiss against her neck, trailing a finger up the length of her thigh.

She leans her head back, her breath warm against my jaw. “What I really want,” she says seductively, “is hot, melted… buttery popcorn.”

I squeeze her ass and she grinds against me. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” I warn, nipping her lobe. She squeals just as she spots the glass jar of popcorn.

Reaching above her, I grab the pot on top of the cabinet. “You see, I have the essentials.”

She spins around, glancing down at my hard-on. “You certainly do have the essentials,” she flirts. “But what the heck is that in your hand? You don’t have a popcorn maker?”

“No. I make it the old-fashioned way,” I tell her as I place the pot on the stove. “Can you get the butter out of the fridge? And the oil is right behind you on the counter.”

“Geez, I haven’t seen popcorn made like this since I was a kid.” She moves next to me, her eyes suddenly very far away, like she’s lost in a memory. “My dad made it once for my babysitter and me.”

“Oh yeah?” My shoulders stiffen, that word making me cringe as I try to focus on pouring the oil then dumping the popcorn in the pot. “You and your dad close?”

“No,” she admits, a crinkle of sadness between her brows, “not at all.” She clears her throat, as if she’s trying to bury the feeling. “What about you? Were you and your dad close?”

My hand stills on the pot, an exhale of breath leaving me. “Well, we were, but I was only twelve when he died, so….”

Empathy fills her voice. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, that’s life.” I say it like I’m trying to be hard, as though it doesn’t matter, but it still hurts like hell even now. I didn’t have a whole lot of years with my dad, yet it doesn’t make me miss him any less.

“No.” Her words are steadfast as she touches my jaw, forcing me to look at her. “That’s the part of life that’s hard. It sucks, and I’m so very sorry.” She holds me captive with her eyes, but it’s too much and I snap my chin away, continuing to shake the pot, trying to forget all the shitty things about my life.

“I’ll just wait for you in the other room.” There’s hurt in her voice, and I’ve done it again. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m a fucking expert at pushing people away.

Shit.

Regretfully, I scrub a hand over my face then walk back out. “Okay.” I carry the bowl of popcorn out to the living room, trying to pretend like nothing happened. “One bowl of incredibly buttered popcorn made to order.” She gives me a slight smile, and I take a seat beside her, holding the bowl out. “Do you want to taste it to see if it meets up to your standards?”

Her smile grows wider and for some reason I feel a bit better. “That’s pretty good, but it needs more salt.”

“I knew you were gonna say that,” I reply, producing the salt shaker I was hiding. “Here you go. Have at it.”

I grab the remote and flip the movie on, both of us relaxed, feet kicked up on the coffee table. I’m thankful she’s quiet. I can’t stand talking during a movie, unless it’s me doing the talking. “Enjoying the movie?” I stretch out, hooking an arm over her shoulder. She leans into me and I take a quiet breath, the smell of raspberries radiating from her skin.

“Yup.” She finishes off the last of the popcorn, then places the bowl on the table. I barely had any, but I don’t care. She resumes her position against my shoulder and we settle back to watch the rest of the movie.

“I love that movie,” she says as the credits roll. “I think I’ve seen it like ten times.”

I gulp down the remainder of my water. “That’s a pretty surprising discovery I’ve made about you. What’s next? You gonna tell me you like cowboys and Clint Eastwood movies, too?”

“Well, speaking of cowboys….” She flexes her toes, grinning at me.

“Oh no. You don’t, do you?” I ask, throwing the empty bottle onto the table.

“I was just going to say that the highlight of my day was getting accosted by the naked cowboy in Times Square.”

“Who?” I’m not sure I like the sound of anyone naked accosting her except me.

“Oh, right.” She nods her head in understanding. “I forgot you haven’t been back in the city that long. He’s this guy who hangs out in Times Square wearing only cowboy boots, a hat, and briefs. He has a guitar placed over his crotch so it appears that he’s naked.” She points a finger my way, pressing her lips together to squelch a laugh. “Oh my God, you should see the look on your face, it’s priceless.

“I can’t believe, especially being from around here, that you don’t know who he is. Anyway, we had a bit of a chat. But it was funny because it reminded me of when I first moved here,” she recalls, a reminiscent smile on her lips. “I had just met Olivia and we came across him and she thought I was insane when I started dancing with him in the middle of the sidewalk.”

“I guess she had you pegged from the beginning,” I quip, and she sticks her very mature tongue out at me.

My dick twitches at the gesture, eyes lingering on her mouth. “If you want to come a little closer, I have something you can do with that tongue.”

“Oh, I can think of a million things I can do with my tongue.” She drags it across her bottom lip and my cock rejoices. “Later.”

“My cock doesn’t like the word later,” I tease, and she flicks my shoulder.

“Seriously, though, I’m going to take you to Times Square sometime and introduce you to the cowboy.” She snatches her water from the table, taking a brief sip. “He’s a hoot.”

“Actually, it’s kind of coming back to me now.” I try to keep a devilish smirk at bay. “While I’ve never met him, I have a vague recollection of who he is.”

Her cute little nose crinkles. “Wait, you acted like you didn’t?”

“I just like hearing you say the word naked.”

“Oh God, you’re a jerk.” She tosses a pillow at me and I hurl it back in her direction.

“Anyway,” I fling her a salty smile, “cowboys really aren’t my thing.”

“What is your thing?” She takes a drink but keeps her gaze on me.

“Strip clubs.” My lips hitch up into a grin and she smirks.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Actually, I’m kidding. I do like to ask Hunter to go, though, just to razz him.” I grab onto her feet and lay them on my lap. “I remember, a few years back, when I took him for the first time. I’ve never seen anything funnier in my life.” I chuckle. “You should’ve seen the mortified look on his face. Like he’d stepped into hell. He refused a lap dance and couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

A relaxed sigh falls from her mouth as I massage her legs. “You guys seem close? Are you?”

I hesitate for a second, pondering her question. I’m not sure there’s an easy answer to that, at least not one I’m willing to share. “We are, I suppose. We’re very different and don’t tend to agree a lot. But, Hunter has always had my back. He’s always been there for me.”

“What about you? Brothers or sisters?” My hands work their way down to her feet and she giggles. “Ticklish?”

“Little bit.” She pinches her fingers together, her mouth curling into a smile that quickly falls away. “No. No brothers or sisters, and my parents are only children, too. It was pretty lonely. Geez this conversation took a depressing turn,” she says, trying to make light of something that doesn’t seem all that funny.

A brightness crosses her face though, replacing the sadness. “I did have my babysitter, Stella,” she reveals, a sudden onset of tension bearing down on my shoulders, and I roll them, anxious to move away from this conversation. “She kept me company a lot since my parents were always working, took me lots of places, even spent holidays with me. I remember this one time,” she reaches down and touches her knee, “I was running on the sidewalk and I fell really hard. I didn’t want her touching it because it hurt so badly, but she promised she would be gentle. And she was.” She smiles, lifting her hand. “She had this first aid kit and she pretended to be Doctor Stella. She made me laugh and then it didn’t hurt so much anymore.”

“So what happened to her? Do you keep in touch?”

“No,” she says, no longer wearing the smile from a moment ago. “My mother sent her away.”

“Why?” My hand pauses on her leg as she releases a weighted sigh.

“Probably because I was getting too attached to her. My mother had a thing about emotional attachments,” she confesses, her tone bitter.

“Oh.” Words escape me because there’s really no way to follow that up. It speaks volumes all on its own.

“We didn’t have any naked cowboys in Boston,” I say, attempting to change direction and maybe cheer her up.

“Bummer.” Her lips quirk up into a grin. “It’s still a great city, though. Do you miss it?”

“I don’t miss the city so much but I miss the guys I worked with at the shop. We had a great team there. Amazing artists. But,” I admit, “I love Manhattan and feel like I belong here.”

“Yeah, me too. Seattle is a great city, also, but I’m really happy here.” She giggles when I find another ticklish spot. Okay, I’m kind of crazy about her laugh. “So do you want to watch another movie? You can pick this time.”

“Okay. But be prepared. I’m putting on
Goodfellas
.” I tickle her foot as I get up and she laughs. The DVD is already out on the table and I open the case, then pop it into the player. “Do you want more popcorn?”

“No, I’m good,” she replies, making room for me next to her.

The movie starts, both of us glued to the television. We’re both so engrossed in the drama that before we know it, the show is half over and I think I caught Vanessa yawning once or twice.

“Now about that tongue.” I nudge her with my arm but she doesn’t respond. Tilting my head to the side, I see her lashes lying against her cheeks, a sleepy smile on her lips. She’s probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, not that I would ever tell her that.

I brush a golden strand of hair from her cheek, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead, but my lips stop short. Instead, I click the remote off then lift her into my arms, carrying her to my room. She makes a little noise of protest, but doesn’t wake.

I lay her down gently, sliding her skirt off and covering her up with the blanket so she can be more comfortable. Then I shift on my side, staring out at the moon. I’m restless. I’ve never had anyone in my bed unless we were fucking. But she fell asleep and it’s no big deal. It’s just one night. I can handle it.