Chapter 19
NINETEEN
BECCA
I know Butch wants to touch me. Even if I couldn’t identify the way he’s looking at me—like he wants to eat me alive—the way the head of his cock is poking at my stomach would give it away.
And that’s even with cold water streaming down his body.
“You’re drunk.” He says it like it’s the end of the discussion. As if the alcohol will stay in my system forever.
Funny story—I’m pretty sure it’s already almost worked its way out thanks to my sprint through downtown and the adrenaline that coursed through my veins as I worried Alaskan Security might find me before Butch did.
The chill of the cold shower is chasing away the last of the wobbliness I can’t decide if I liked or not.
I have to admit, it wasn’t an all bad experience.
I like the way it warmed me up and made it easier to move words from my brain to my mouth.
I even managed to insinuate something—something sexual—which I don’t know that I’ve ever accomplished before.
Unfortunately, it seems like it was wasted, because Butch isn’t jumping right in to ‘wash’ the areas that would have come in contact with a lap had I actually sat on one. Instead, he’s just staring at me, looking miserable.
Not a great expression to see on a man with his eyes on your naked body.
“I had one drink.” I step a little closer to him, the hand he so thoroughly washed lifting between us.
“And then I ran a freaking mile while trying not to pee my pants over the thought Alaskan Security might find me.” My fingers twitch from the overwhelming urge to touch him.
“I might still be a little tipsy, but I don’t think anyone in any realm would call me drunk right now.
” My eyes lock in on his cock. “Do you want me to say the alphabet backwards?”
I don’t point out I could probably do it totally inebriated. He doesn’t need to know that.
“B, you could recite the alphabet backwards under any conditions.” Butch calls me out without hesitation. “But if it will get you to stop licking your lips while you stare at my cock, you should probably do it anyway.”
Am I licking my lips? Probably. “I was thinking about what it would be like to put my mouth on you.”
“Yeah. I got that.” Butch’s cock flexes under my gaze. “I thought we were alphabeting.”
“Z, Y, X, W, V, U, T, S, R, Q, P, O, N, M, L, K, J, I, H, G, F, E, D, C, B, A.” I rattle off the letters as fast as I can. “Now can I touch your cock?”
Butch groans, his head tipping back. “I can’t take advantage of you when you’re drunk, B. It wouldn’t be right.”
“What if I take advantage of you when I’m drunk?
” That seems like a logical solution that would alleviate any concerns he’s having right now.
“And I’m not drunk.” I may not be completely sober, but I am far from drunk.
All that remains from the disgusting scotch I consumed is the warmth in my stomach.
“It doesn’t count as taking advantage of me if I’m willing.” Butch’s voice is a deep rumble. “I’m just trying to do the right thing here. I’ve never dealt with a…”
The hand I have hovering between us inches closer to the hard line of his cock. “A… what?”
“A virgin.” He says the words like they’re causing him physical pain, and it makes me wonder if me never having a penis inside my body is a bigger deal than I thought.
“Why does that matter?” I’m not some young girl. I’m over thirty, and far from innocent. Nobody acts like they can’t take you scuba diving because you’ve never gone before. They just go over the rules and shove you off the side of the boat. Why should sex be any different?
“Because it should be special, B.” Butch’s head barely shakes. “And I’m not the kind of guy who should have the responsibility of making that happen.”
It’s similar to what he said about my first kiss, and it’s just as ridiculous of an argument now as it was then. “Why? It’s just sex. Everybody does it.”
Well... I know that’s not technically true. I probably would have never done it if I hadn’t met Butch. It sounded messy and weird and uninteresting.
It still sounds a little messy, and will probably be kind of weird, but there’s no one in this world I would rather get messy and weird with.
“I…” He huffs out a laugh. “You look at shit a lot differently than most people.”
“I get that a lot.” I straighten my shoulders, standing as tall as I can manage as I make a proposal.
“What if we just do it real quick and then you can stop being like this about it?” I make a pinching gesture with my fingers before flicking my wrist. “Rip the Band-Aid off, and then we don’t have to worry about it anymore. ”
“You hurt my feelings a little with that real quick comment.” Butch’s lips flatten into a frown. “Sex isn’t supposed to be an expedited activity.”
“Why not? We have shit to do. I can’t sit around here, bouncing on your penis for hours.” What a freaking waste of time. “That sounds like it would get abrasive after a while anyway.” Has he never heard of friction?
“No one said hours.” Butch’s hands come to rest on my hips, his fingers sinking into my flesh. “But you’re looking at a little more than five minutes.” He tips his head. “Maybe not much more depending on how much bouncing you plan to do, but still.”
Five minutes is probably manageable.
“But that’s only penetration.” He gives me a slow smile. “And you’re gonna want there to be a lot more involved than just penetration.”
“I guess I’ll be the judge of that.” I reach around him, switching off the water before flipping open the shower curtain. “Let’s get started. We have a bunch of new information to go over.”
I checked my phone on the drive here, and saw Butch sent me copies of everything they were able to get off the phone of one of the guys I accidentally killed with a stepladder. I want to upload all of it to my laptop so I can see a little better. Compare it with everything I’ve already collected.
But it can wait five minutes.
I step out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my body, feet squeaking against the cheap flip-flops under my soles as I march to the bed.
I’m pleasantly surprised to discover Butch took the time to put the sheets and blankets we purchased on the mattress, so the place feels a little less… Questionable.
I don’t hesitate to climb right onto the bed, walking on my knees to the center before flopping onto my back. Missionary seems like the correct position. It’ll make it easier for me to relax, so hopefully there will be less discomfort when Butch crams that giant cock of his into my vagina.
My vagina must not be completely concerned about the idea though, because thinking about Butch over me, working his girth inside inch by inch, makes my walls clench with anticipation.
Butch slowly walks out of the bathroom, his narrowed gaze fixed on where I’m laying, knees up, legs spread.
He doesn’t look particularly excited, which reminds me I’m still wearing my towel.
Thinking that will solve the problem, I undo the tuck just above my boobs and fling it open so I’m lying naked on top of it.
Butch stops at the foot of the bed, his dark gaze moving over my body before coming to rest at the spot between my legs. He stares so long I start to think there’s something wrong, and I lift my head, looking down the front of my body. I don’t wax, but I keep that area tidy enough.
I think.
“Is something wrong?”
“Besides you lying there like you’re going to starfish through this whole thing?” He shakes his head. “Nope. Everything’s fine.”
“Starfish?” I sit up, confused. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re just gonna lay there silently until it’s over.” Butch shakes his head. “And I gotta tell you, I’m not super excited about the possibility.”
I scoff. “I wasn’t just gonna lay there.” I push up on my knees, trying to get more eye to eye with him. “I’ve watched a lot of pornography. I know how sex works. I’ve just never done it before.”
“You realize pornography is nothing like how sex is in real life, right?” Butch props both hands on his hips. “Because if you start making weird chipmunk sounds and saying yes over and over while I fuck you, my dick is going to shrivel up like a fucking raisin in the sun.”
Weird chipmunk sounds? I don’t even know what those are.
And I don’t think sex requires ritualistic chanting.
“You better not be making fun of me.” I crawl toward him, a little pissed that Butch is being so strange about this.
Acting like I don’t understand what we’re doing simply because I’ve never physically participated in the activity.
“Just because I’ve never put a penis in my mouth doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do it.
” I grab the front of his towel, yanking it off his body.
Hopefully he meant it when he said I could touch him whenever I wanted, because I’ve got a point to prove.
His claims about raisins are obviously false, because his cock is thick and hard as it bobs free, pointing straight at my face. Like it knows what’s coming next.
Reaching out, I wrap one hand around the base, his skin hot and almost velvety under my touch.
It makes me want to put my tongue on him even more, so I don’t hesitate to lean down and wrap my lips around the flared head.
I know I’m supposed to move up and down, so that’s what I do, bobbing my head as I angrily shuttle my lips down and up.
I can’t believe he thinks I’m some na?ve woman who’s going to starfish while he fucks me. I probably know more about sex than he does. I should use it all against him. I should stick my finger right up his butt and massage his prostate. See what he thinks about that.
But then I might end up with semen on my face, and I’m going to take a hard pass on that.