7. Danny
7
DANNY
L ooking down at my girl, I fight a smile as I watch her bite her lip, her expression pensive. I don’t get it. When we talk online or over the phone, she’s confident and sure of herself, but she’s not combative. She’s my best friend, and I’m not used to her being mad at me, and that’s how she’s seemed since I told her I’d booked her a flight.
She totally bossed her interview with the Barnetts, and however much money they offered to pay her, it was clearly more than she was earning at that shitty chain garage she was working at. So I don’t understand why she’s still being pissy with me.
She’s so hot and cold. One minute she’s flirty, the next it’s like she’s deliberately building up walls between us, and I don’t get it. I know it can’t just be because I wouldn’t let her pay for dinner. I’m all for equality. I know a woman can do anything a guy can do and probably quicker, easier, and more efficiently. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let my woman pay when I take her out.
And she is my woman. She might not know it yet, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Maybe I should go with the Barnett School of Romance and just tell her she’s mine and she doesn’t have any choice in it. It’s not exactly subtle, but it worked for them. My buddy Oz basically kept his wife Etta hostage and fucked her into submission. Maybe that would work on Parker?
My dick has been hard since she told me she couldn’t live with me because she likes to play with sex toys and screams when she comes. I think she intended for that to be a deterrent to me wanting her to move in, but honestly, it had the opposite effect. I’m even more obsessed with her now than I was already, only now I can’t get the image of her pinned beneath me, tears streaming down her face as she screams through her fifth orgasm, begging me to stop and never stop all in the same breath while her full tits bounce and her cunt sucks me dry.
Jesus, I want to come so fucking bad. But the idea of giving myself release lost all appeal the moment I felt her in my arms for the first time. Nothing but her will sate me now. Her hand, mouth, pussy, or ass—I know I’ll never want anything but her for the rest of my life. I just need to convince her to feel the same way.
Three days in a car together might do it, and if I convince her she’s mine early enough, we could have a road trip full of sexcapades that’d be a whole lot more fun than just the usual playlist and fast-food bullshit.
When she steps into the house, I close the door behind her, clicking the lock into place. “Do you want a coffee or anything, or are you just ready to get to bed?” I ask, trying not to sound too eager and wishing that she was going to bed in my room, not the guest room I’ve set up for her.
“Bed,” she croaks, her eyes wide with something that looks a lot like lust to me. But if she was into me, she’d have picked up on the flirty hints I’ve been putting down, wouldn’t she?
Maybe I’m just not her type. She’s fucking stunning, she must have her pick of guys, and I’m just a fucking jock with a dangerous job. I know I’m good-looking, but I’m not book smart, and she’s too fucking clever to only be interested in outward appearances. Maybe she’s into nerds? I became a gamer for her. I could learn to be into whatever she finds hot if it means she’s mine.
To be honest, I don’t think there’s much I wouldn’t be willing to do if it made her want me even a fraction of the way I want her.
“I’ll grab us a couple of bottles of water,” I say, striding quickly into the kitchen and pulling two plastic bottles from the refrigerator.
Stepping across the room toward her again, my eyes drift to her tits that are hidden beneath her shirt. There’s a hint of peaked nipple visible beneath the fabric, and my mouth waters with the desire to taste her. I bet every fucking inch of her tastes sweet. I’ll find out soon, because her not being mine just isn’t an option.
“Come on, Beautiful, lead the way,” I urge, gesturing for her to head up the stairs.
She pauses on the landing, and I step past her and open the door to the guest room beside my own. “I have you set up in here tonight, unless you’d rather have a sleepover with me?” I ask, flashing her a cheeky smile.
“This is great, thanks.” Her own smile looks a little pained, but I don’t have time to really assess her before she steps into the room and plops down onto the edge of the bed.
Following her in, I place her bag down at her feet, then hold out one of the bottles of water to her. Smiling a little oddly again, she takes it from me and places it beside her on the bed. “Thanks.”
I know this is my cue to leave, but my feet won’t move. She’s here. She’s in my house only feet from my bed, and the last thing I want to do is sleep alone when I could be sleeping wrapped around her. We both admitted to sleeping naked earlier, so there’s no way I’ll even be able to close my eyes knowing she’s on the other side of the wall, her sexy naked skin rolling all over my sheets and not being able to touch, taste, or handle her.
Unable to resist, I lean down and lift her off the bed, pulling her into my arms as I stand back up to my full height. “I’m so fucking happy you’re here,” I growl into her ear, banding one arm beneath her ass and encouraging her to wrap her legs around my waist.
When she doesn’t move, her legs hanging limply, I have to swallow down the urge to demand that she do as she’s told and just fucking want me. But if I try to force this, I could lose her completely, and that’s just not an option.
Instead, I hold her close until she relaxes in my arms, exhaling as she buries her face into my neck.
“I’m glad I’m here too,” she whispers.
It takes every bit of control I have to lower her back to the bed, wish her good night, and leave her room, but I do it, hating every step that takes me away from her. Closing my own door behind me, I strip out of my clothes, dropping them haphazardly to the floor as I make my way to my bed. Climbing in on top of the sheets, I rest my head against the wall, wondering if she’s doing the same on the other side.
Is she naked already? Or does she make getting ready for bed a ritual, taking each item of clothing off one at a time? Is she one of those women who rubs cream into their skin before bed each night? Fuck, if she is, I’ll gladly take over responsibility for that job every day for the rest of our lives. The idea of ending each day running my hands over her luscious body, then maybe fucking her to sleep each night sounds like bliss.
Straining to make out any noise coming from her room, I twist around until my ear is pressed against the drywall, but I can’t hear anything. Is she asleep already? I didn’t even show her where the bathroom was. Maybe she needs to pee and thinks me not showing her means I’m not giving her permission to use it.
Jumping out of bed, I grab my boxers from the floor and pull them on, not bothering to try to hide the tent my excited dick is making. Maybe if she sees how hard I am for her, she might offer to help me out. Hell, I could probably come just from her staring at me, because simply having her eyes on me makes my dick impossibly hard.
Throwing open my bedroom door, I walk the handful of steps to her door, then pause. Should I knock or just let myself in? I could shout through the door or just stop making excuses to see her and go back to my own bed. Lifting my fist, I knock my knuckles against the wood. “Parks.”
When she doesn’t call out, I pause, wondering what I should do. The boundary-abiding part of me knows I should walk away, she’s clearly asleep. But apparently, I’m not a fan of boundaries when it comes to her. Which is why instead of going back to my own room, I turn the handle on her door and push it open.
The lights aren’t on when I step inside, but the moonlight through the drapes is bright enough to illuminate the space.
It’s the whimper of shock that drags my attention to the bed. The bed that’s full of Parker. The bed that’s full of a naked Parker lying on top of the covers, one hand covering her mouth while the other thrusts a dildo in and out of her cunt.
Our eyes meet across the darkened room. I don’t know how mine look to her, but hers look shocked and embarrassed and turned the fuck on.
The hand that’s holding the dildo stops moving, but she doesn’t slide it out of her cunt. Instead, she freezes, her pussy lips spread wide around the glow-in-the-dark toy. It’s not light enough for me to see if she’s as wet as I think she is, and as much as I want to offer to give her a helping hand or even suggest my dick might fit her holes better than the toy, I don’t.
Instead, I step a little farther into the room, reach down, and cup my hard cock. “Don’t stop,” I growl, my voice rough and desperate.
With her hand still covering her mouth, she shakes her head.
“I said, don’t stop,” I order, filling my words with dominance and all of the desperation I’m feeling.
She shakes her head again and starts to pull the toy out, but I dart across the room, covering her hand with my own, keeping the dildo buried deep inside her cunt.
“You don’t get to stop until you’re screaming,” I order, not sure where this need for her compliance has come from but knowing that I won’t survive unless I get to watch her come.
Guiding her hand, I pull the toy almost all the way out of her sex, then push it deep again, groaning at the sounds of her wetness.
“Does it feel good?” I ask, pulling and pushing, helping her to fuck herself.
Her moan is all the confirmation I need. Pull, push, pull, push. I help her fuck her cunt with the dildo, my eyes darting between her pussy and her face. Her hand is still over her mouth, so I reach up and pull it away, squashing her cheeks together until her lips part.
Pushing two of my fingers into her mouth, I rub them over her tongue. “Suck, it’ll help keep you quiet, if that’s what you want,” I order, and she complies, closing her lips around my fingers and sucking like she’s trying to make my fingers come.
Uncurling my hand from around hers that’s still holding the base of the dildo, I sit back, content to feel her suck my fingers while I watch her fuck herself. I’ve never been particularly into watching, but this…this is different.
Her hand stops moving and her eyes go wide, like she thinks she did something wrong.
“Make yourself come while I watch,” I snarl, pushing my fingers a little deeper into her mouth.
Slowly at first, she slips the toy out an inch, then pushes it back in.
“That’s not how you like it, is it?” I ask lowly. “I bet you like it rough, don’t you? I bet you want to feel it the next morning. I bet you have bigger toys than this, don’t you?”
I’ve never been much of a dirty talker, but with her, I want to see how she reacts to my words. Until today, our relationship has been all about words, and now she’s here right in front of me, and I want to see how I affect her when all I’m doing is talking.
“Urgh,” she moans around my fingers, and for a moment, I consider slipping them out of her mouth, but as soon as I move, she wraps her lips around them and sucks deep and hard and desperate.
“Show me how you like to fuck yourself,” I demand.
Pulling the toy all the way out, she shoves it back into her cunt, then pulls it out again. Pushing it as deep as she can get it, she starts to fuck herself with the toy in fast thrusts, lifting her ass off the bed as she tips her head back and moans around my fingers. Changing the pace, she slows, pushing the toy in hard and deep before her movements become frantic and she whimpers.
Pushing her heels into the mattress, she lifts up, arching her back, while I watch her cunt swallowing the toy over and over until her hand stills and she comes on a muffled wail.
It was both over too quickly and not fast enough in the same instant. My dick aches, but I won’t make myself come, because nothing but the feeling of her wet, stretched cunt would satisfy me after that. Instead, I watch as her orgasm fades and her body relaxes, her butt dropping down to the comforter.
Instead of speaking, I reach between her legs, push her hand away, and instead wrap my own fingers around the toy. Slowly I pull it from her body, fascinated as I imagine pulling my own cock out of her soaked hole.
She whines when her cunt is empty, but I don’t touch her. Instead, I focus on the toy. It’s not big. Maybe four or five inches. Not as big as me. Despite what I said, she won’t feel the stretch from this toy in the morning. But she will when I fuck her. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll make sure she feels the reminder of me with every step she takes. But not tonight.
Lifting the toy up in front of my face, I turn and look at her, making sure I have her attention as I bring the toy to my mouth and lick her arousal off the silicone. Her eyes go wide, but with my fingers in her mouth, she can’t do more than make a muffled noise.
Running my tongue up the length of the toy, I swallow down her flavor, savoring her taste as it fills my mouth. It’s not as good as tasting it from the source will be, but for now, it’ll do to sate some of my need for her.
“Delicious,” I growl, pulling my fingers out of her mouth and immediately replacing them with the toy. A part of me expects her to protest tasting herself and having her own sex toy forced into her mouth, but instead she allows me to push it in until the base is almost pressed against her lips.
Leaning down, I press a kiss to her cheek. “Good night, beautiful. Sweet dreams.”
Forcing myself to move, I leave, closing her door silently behind me.
I don’t sleep a wink, but it’s okay. Instead, I relive every second of the way she sounded, her pleasure stifled by my fingers as she came on the toy. I replay the way she put on a show for me, how she fucked herself until she came, just like I told her to.
I’m not like my friends. I don’t need to control Parker. I don’t need her to look to me for every choice. There’s nothing wrong with that, and if that’s what you enjoy, then who the fuck am I to yuck someone’s yum? But I don’t need it. All I need is her. I need to know that she’s mine in every fucking way possible and to show the world that they can’t have her.
Okay, maybe I want to control her a little. I want her in my bed, in my house, in my town. I want my ring on her finger and to give her my last name. But I want her to fall asleep exhausted, cunt still clenching around my cock, so satisfied that she can’t keep her eyes open for another second. I need her to hold my hand and let me show her off. I need to have her suck my fingers when she can’t suck my cock and know we’re both counting down the seconds until we can be alone.
I need her to play with me, and it doesn’t matter if it is a computer game, or poker, or who can come the quickest. I don’t care. I just want to laugh and love and live with her. She’s everything, and I want her to feel the same way about me.
When my alarm goes off at six a.m., I don’t snooze it. Instead, I get up, pull a pair of running shorts over my still-hard cock, and head for my garage. I rarely bother to run on my treadmill. Why would I want to stare at the wall when I can run the trails on the side of the mountain I live on or watch the girls at the gym? But today I won’t leave just in case Parks wakes up before I get back.
I packed a bag last night, and as soon as she tells me what flight she booked to go back to Vermont, I’ll book myself a seat and we can head back to her place to pack up her stuff. I’d still much rather arrange for movers to collect everything and a transport company to bring her car here, but if she insists on doing it all herself, then at least I’ll be there with her, making sure she’s okay, and sharing the driving.
It’s over two thousand miles from Mills, Vermont, to Rockhead Point, which is about thirty-six hours driving. We have four days to get across the country, which is doable if we take turns sleeping while the other covers the miles.
But I don’t care what it takes. I’ll do anything to have her here, in my town.
After I’ve run ten miles, I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator and take a deep pull of the cool liquid.
“Jesus, Christ,” I hear her gasp behind me.
Spinning around, I find a showered and dressed Parker, frozen halfway down the stairs, her eyes wide as she blatantly eye fucks my bare, sweaty chest.
“Morning, beautiful,” I say, closing the distance between us. Pausing on the step below hers, I lean in and press a kiss to her cheek in the same place I kissed her last night after I pushed the dildo she’d just come all over into her mouth.
I hear her sharp inhale of breath the moment my lips touch her skin, but she doesn’t pull back, and I don’t rush, kissing her for longer than a closed-mouth peck on the cheek should last.
“How did you sleep?” I ask, keeping my tone friendly and neutral.
“Err, good. I…slept…good,” she says, stumbling over her words.
“Coffee?”
“Please,” she half whimpers.
Leaning back and out of her personal space, I spin around and bounce back downstairs, smiling to myself at her reaction.
Clearing her throat, she slowly makes her way down the rest of the steps until she’s standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room. “Did you work out?”
“Just a quick ten miles on the treadmill, I wasn’t sure what time our flight was today.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she looks like she’s trying to seem assertive, but all she actually manages to do is accentuate her tits and look kind of young, sexy, and lost.
“About that…” she trails off.
“Depending on what time the flight you booked is, I thought we could see if there was an earlier one. It’d be best if we could get your apartment closed up and get on the road tonight.”
“I really appreciate you offering to come with me, but you have to work, and honestly, it’s just not necessary. I can make the drive on my own. I can stop whenever I get tired. I’ll be fine.”
“No.”
Her brows arch, and she tips her head to the side and looks at me like she has no idea what’s happening right now.
“What time is your flight?”
“Danny, I don’t want you to use your vacation time stuck in a car with me.”
“Why not? A road trip will be fun.” I think but don’t say that if we get bored, we can make our own fun like we did last night.
“Danny—” she starts, but I speak over her.
“What time is your flight, Parker?”
“It’s at eleven a.m.,” she admits, with a sullen twist to her lips.
“Then we should eat, so we can get going for the airport.”
After a quick shower, I make us a simple breakfast of cheese omelets and toast and silently book myself a seat on her flight while she sulks in her chair, refusing to look at me.
“You good?” I ask her when I stand up and reach for her empty plate.
“Yep,” she snaps.
Fighting a smile at her snippy tone, I take her plate, rinse everything in the sink, then load it into the dishwasher. “Go grab your stuff, and we can get going,” I say, fighting my amusement at her pouting attitude.
Rolling her eyes, she pushes out of her chair and disappears upstairs. Following after her, I pause at her open door and the sight of her bent over her bag on the floor stops me in my tracks. Her full ass is just right there, ready to be spanked, grabbed, or fucked. My dick twitches excitedly in my jeans, but I ignore it, forcing myself to walk away no matter how much I don’t want to. Grabbing my own bag from my bedroom, I wait outside her room and tug her bag out of her hand the moment she steps onto the landing.
“Danny,” she chides, but I just smirk, tipping my chin toward the stairs.
With a huff, she marches down, through the door, and out to my Escalade. Unlocking it, I load our stuff into the trunk, then climb into the driver’s seat and hit the engine start button.
We spend the next forty minutes in stilted silence. “Are you going to be like this for two thousand miles?” I finally snap.
“Probably,” she pouts, her expression defiant as she stares out of the windshield, not even looking in my direction.
“Is this because of what happened last night?”
“What?” she squeaks, spinning around to look at me so fast she might have given herself whiplash.
“I’m not going to apologize,” I say, hardening my jaw as I stare at her, letting her see the resolve in my expression.
“I don’t want to talk about last night,” she says, her voice quiet.
“I do.”
“Why, it was…” She trails off, obviously struggling to find the words.
“Hot. Inevitable. Happening again,” I offer.
“Inappropriate,” she eventually says.
“How so?” I ask, feeling myself tense and brace for her answer.
“Because we’re…we’re…because we’re friends.” Her nose wrinkles, and it’s fucking adorable.
“What if we weren’t?” I don’t know why I’m doing this now. I need to keep my mouth shut and wait. I need to lay down some groundwork to make her understand how much I want and need her. But the words just won’t stay inside of me.
“What?” Her eyes are wide and horrified, and it makes my stomach sink into my ass.
“We’re not just friends, Parker,” I say, blurting out the words that could ruin everything.
“Online friends are still friends,” she mumbles.
“I fucking loved last night, Parks.”
“Danny,” she whispers.
“Opening your door and finding you like that…Jesus, that was fucking…you are…it was fucking perfect.”
“You barging into my room and finding me masturbating was perfect?” she asks, her tone sarcastic, but I can see through the front she’s trying to put on.
“Finding you fucking yourself with a dildo was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.”
“Danny.”
“Helping you fuck yourself with a dildo was even better. Almost as good as you sucking on my fingers like they were my cock, while I watched you make yourself come, then tasting your sweet arousal off the toy I pulled from your cunt. Fucking. Perfect.”
“Danny.”
“I want to see it again,” I admit.
“You want free live porn,” she says, and her tone is fucking scathing.
“No. Porn is fake and boring and not you. I want to watch you ,” I tell her, trying to make her understand that the only appeal is her.
“I am not being your live-in sex show,” she yells.
“Fuck me, you need some sense spanked into you,” I hiss.
“Now you want to spank me?” she rasps, her voice so high-pitched it’s almost funny. But she doesn’t sound as appalled as she’s pretending to be, in fact, I’m pretty sure it’s less revulsion and more desperate want that I see reflected back at me in her eyes.
“I haven’t even started explaining all the things I want to do to you,” I growl as I turn my car into the airport parking lot.