Sexual Frustration
Bursting into the apartment, I nearly break down in frustrated tears before reaching my room. Of all the dates so far, I had the highest hopes for this one.
Failure and disappointment weighs down heavy on my shoulders.
“Holly? Are you okay?” Decker asks.
I jump when he steps into the hallway. I’d expected to be alone, especially since he’s been avoiding me since the night he picked me up at Thomas’s house.
I also haven’t heard a woman in his room, either. It’s been eerily quiet.
“Worst date by far.”
“How bad?”
“He shit in the elevator.”
Decker’s green eyes widen. “Say that again?”
“I need to shower. I feel… gross. Not one of these dates has been promising for more than five minutes—some of them being the five minutes before I met them—and I’m dangerously close to heading out to the balcony and tossing myself over.”
“Because the dates are bad?”
“Yes! I was so sure I would find the man of my dreams with this stupid app. But then there’s also the drought everyone and their dog can see.
I’m pretty sure I’m going crazy,” I say, tossing my hands in the air.
“But at least I’m not desperate. I didn’t screw the guy who shit in the elevator and told me he lost his virginity to his adopted second cousin for fifty bucks. ”
To his credit, Decker doesn’t laugh at my crash out. He smirks, but I think he can tell I’m about one step away from truly losing it. “That’s… a lot to dissect.”
“It’s exactly as it sounds. Is it possible to go insane from not getting laid? Because I’m bordering on feeling like I need to be committed. Maybe a doctor there will treat me for hysteria like they did to women in the fifties.”
Walking up to me, Decker leans against the wall but doesn’t touch me. “If you’re really in need, I can help.”
“Help?”
“You know… scratch the itch. The one the vibrating toy can’t reach anymore.”
The cockiness in his tone as he brings it up again makes me want to smack him, but then I realize that the only way he’d know that is if he was here. Which he hasn’t been. “How—”
“You’re not the only one who can hear through the walls, Holly.”
“You haven’t been home…”
“I’ve been home. I’ve just been… reflecting.”
Reflecting? What the hell does that mean? And I push down the panic as I think about what I’ve done believing I was in the apartment alone.
“As much as I’d love to see if you’re as good as your dates make you sound, you know my brother will kill us both if we venture into that area.”
“Will’s not here, Holly.”
I want to say he’s kidding—just pulling my chain—but there’s no sign in his tone or his gaze that says he’s anything other than dead serious. And I really, really want to know if he’s as good as he seems.
“If you really want to help, you can come join me in the shower. The place I need to scrub off the worst fifteen-minute date of my entire life. Which is impressive, considering I watched a guy I almost hooked up with get sucked off by the bride of the wedding we went to together.”
“You have the most interesting stories,” he calls after me as I walk into the room.
“Trust me, I’m so over them.”
Stripping down, I walk into the en suite bathroom Will won in a coin toss. Last night, I watched a video on how to swap out the showerhead for a detachable one to have a little fun in the shower—the jet setting ones—and I’m thinking that will be the purchase I make tomorrow.
I can’t believe how frustrated I am in general. I just want to cry. This app has been the biggest disappointment of my life, and I think I’m even further way from finding the man of my dreams than I was before.
Maybe I just expected too much. I know better than to have too high of expectations. When they’re too high, there’s no option but to be disappointed. Nothing can live up to the idea in my head.
The shower door opens, and I gasp when I turn to see Decker. All of Decker. “I really want to help you find some relief.”
Considering the erection pointing at me, I can’t say he’s joking. I open my mouth to say something, but his lips claim mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and swallowing whatever words I’d planned to speak.
Whatever reservations there were about us getting together like this no longer exist, and he pins me against the shower wall. His nipple ring scrapes against my skin in the most delicious way, and I realize he has his member pierced. At the tip and the base.
No wonder these women cry out for him.
“Tell me you want me to stop,” Decker says, his voice husky as he moves to suck on my earlobe.
The logical part of my brain screams that this is my brother’s best friend. The other part of my brain—and every inch of my skin—screams that I need to tell the logical side to shut the hell up.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
He kisses down my chest, squeezing my breasts almost painfully before sucking a nipple into his mouth.
There’s no doubt in my mind, not that there was much before, that this man knows exactly what he’s doing with a woman’s body.
That these women weren’t just crying out to stroke his ego. He earned every single moan.
When he moves to my other nipple, my legs begin to tremble. I’ve never been the type to get off by nipple play, but he’s good. So fucking good.
Kneeling on the shower floor, he’s greeted by one good thing about these dates—I’m freshly waxed. I’d been keeping my options open about getting laid, and now he has a hair-free pussy to play with.
“Decker,” I moan as his tongue ring flicks at my clit. And if I thought that felt good, I had no idea what I was in for because I see stars when he sucks it into his mouth. “Oh God!”
I reach out to brace myself on the walls like I had in the elevator but for a much better reason. He lifts my left leg onto his shoulder, and I reach down to hold onto his dark hair as he eats me out.
His fingers enter me, and he presses the pleasure spot most men don’t know how to find, and I’m so close I can taste my orgasm.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I moan. “Don’t you fucking dare stop.”
He moans against me, holding me up as my knees buckle. Waves of pleasure crash over me, spreading from my core to my fingertips and toes. The relief of finally releasing all that tension nearly brings me to tears.
“Trust me, stopping didn’t even enter my mind,” Decker says and kisses his way back up my body. “Not unless you told me to.”
I look into his eyes, and the way he stares back makes my heart race even more than it did before. “Now what?”
He grabs my right leg and pulls it up over his hip, his cock toying at my throbbing entrance. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
“I need you to fuck me,” I whisper. A moan escapes as he slides into me, and my eyes roll to the back of my head. “Oh, yes, fuck me.”
He sucks on my neck as he rocks his hips, grinding against my clit more than he is thrusting. It’s a magical feeling, and I can’t believe how quickly I find myself teetering on the edge of another orgasm.
God, I love his piercings.
“Come again,” he groans, rocking his hips. “I need to hear you come on my cock, Holly.”
Talking during sex besides the shouts of pleasure is usually not my thing. Unless necessary. Like telling a man his arm is on my hair in a not-sexy way. But this man could recite the ABCs in that husky voice while he’s inside of me, and it would be the most erotic thing in the whole damn world.
“Oh yes!” I cry out, clinging to him as I fall apart again. This time, my vision turns white with pure pleasure, and I gasp as he begins to thrust hard and fast.
“You sound so good,” Decker says. “Almost as good as you feel.”
Hearing that from someone who has a body count likely in the triple digits fills me with an odd amount of pride. “You have no idea how good you feel, Decker.”
“Tell me you want me.”
“I don’t tend to orgasm from men who repulse me,” I say with a smirk. “I’ve wanted you since I hit puberty, Decker. I just never thought… Oh fuck…”
He grabs my other leg, holding me up as my legs wrap around his back, and thrusts harder and faster than he physically should be able to. How he hasn’t slipped yet, I don’t know, but damn, I don’t care. It feels good.
He kisses me now, swallowing my moan as another orgasm builds. This is a record for me.
I really should have taken him up on his offer that first night.
“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away from my mouth.
“What’s wrong?”
Pulling out of me, he sets me on the floor of the shower, and I’m confused. And disappointed. I was so close.
I don’t know what I did wrong, but then he turns me around to face the wall. He enters me from behind, my legs closed, and it should not be possible to have sex in this position.
But Decker Thomas is an expert.
One hand cups my breast, tugging on my nipple, while the other roughly rubs my clit. His cock hits delicious spots I’ve rarely experienced before, and I feel the piercing on the tip rubbing inside. I appreciate his pieces of metal jewelry more than he’ll ever know.
“You need to come soon, Holly. I can’t hold back much longer.”
There’s an urgency in his tone that does me in. My orgasm comes, stronger than the last two, and my entire body shakes as I scream out loud enough to have the cops called.
I’m lightheaded as I brace myself on the wall while Decker continues to thrust hard and fast, and I just try to catch my breath. My legs feel like jelly, and I’m disappointed and empty when he pulls out.
Glancing over my shoulder, I watch Decker stroke his cock twice before shooting his release on the wall. “Fuck, Holly.”
“Is that a good or bad Fuck, Holly?” I ask, leaning on the shower wall, chest heaving.
My nipples are still hard, but I honestly don’t know if I have the strength to go another round. As much as I want to.
He smirks and bites his lower lip. “The fucking best.”
Wait—is he saying I’m the best? Or his orgasm was the best? Or the comment was meant in the best way?
“How do you feel?”
The way Decker can switch from sexy to concerned so fast makes my head spin. The last thing I expected from him was to worry about how I feel. In fact, I kind of expected him to thank me, maybe give me a peck on the lips, and exit the shower without another word.
I stare at the magnificent man I’ve dreamed about since I hit puberty and give him a sated smile. “Much better.”
“Good,” he says, his smile matching mine.
He gives me a long, lingering kiss. The type of kiss that feels comfortable. Not hurried or hungry. Almost… loving.
What the hell does this all mean now?