9. Indie
NINE
Indie
M y body’s on edge from the whiplash he’s managed in the last two minutes. He wants in? To split the pot and go our separate ways. Leaving was in my plan all along, but now I’ll be ten thousand poorer. However, that’s still ten thousand richer than I currently am. If I disagree, it all disappears anyway. If I blow him off, he won’t look my way the rest of the week.
What’s the harm in working together? The offer’s already on the table. Taylor doesn’t need to know. Plus, she’ll be off enjoying newlywed bliss on the other side of the world. It’s not like she’ll check my bank statement to see what I spent the money on.
Brooks stands tall in front of me, arms now at his sides, no longer covering his bulging member. None of this interruption has calmed my pulsing clit, and I’m regretting not packing my vibrator.
“I have two conditions,” I say, dropping my tone and moving closer to him.
“Name ‘em,” he answers with a chin lift.
“Taylor can’t know,” I say sternly, staring him down. My feet close the distance between us. “And you have to finish what you started.” I smirk up at him, my hands landing against his hard chest. I think I’ve confused him because he doesn’t respond.
Fuck it.
I don’t need a man to make the first move. Crashing into him, I shove his firm body into the fridge, knocking magnets to the floor. I loop my arms around his neck, pushing my lips firmly against his.
He finally gets it.
My feet leave the ground, and he coaxes my legs around his waist.
His tongue pushes against the seam of my lips, seeking entrance. He finds no resistance from me, and I moan when our kiss deepens.
We bump into the counter, then the thin wall, which sends a photo crashing to the ground. The couch end table scrapes my leg before we make it back to where we started. I’m weightless for a moment when he tosses me to the couch. My body lands with a bounce, and I use the free moment to shuck my dress over my head.
I thank the goddess above for the forethought to throw on the sheer matching set embroidered with black flowers.
“Jesus, fuck woman. Definitely a witch.” His awestruck tone sends a shiver down my spine.
His heady gaze emboldens my lust-riddled brain, and my hands move on their own accord, squeezing my breasts together while my fingers tighten around my firm nipples. “Does that mean you agree to my second condition?”
“Just remember you asked for this, beautiful.” The dimpled grin he shoots me before dropping to his knees with a thud gives me a front-row view of the man behind the curtain.
He strips my panties down my legs, baring my heated flesh to the air-conditioned apartment. He leans down, and I expect to feel the caress of his wet tongue. What he does instead shocks me.
A deep inhale fills the silence between us. “You smell divine, Indie. Now, let me see if you taste just as good.”
Sound the alarm; the curt bar owner turns into a dirty talking fiend at the sight of pussy.
I’m here for it.
He dives in, licking me with the enthusiasm of a starved man. It doesn’t take long for the orgasm to build in my core. My heels dig into his back to anchor me when I arch off the couch, pushing my pussy onto his tongue. His rough beard adds to the over-sensitizing flick against my clit, and I scream out my release.
Relaxing back onto the couch, my chest heaves, trying to draw oxygen into my overworked lungs. My eyes skate down my body to his face between my thighs. When our gaze meets, he pulls back, licking my juices from his lips and running a hand down his glistening beard.
“Don’t move. I gotta find a condom.”
I do as he demands, becoming one with the couch, listening to the end credits of the movie we’d forgotten about and the rustling of him digging through a drawer in the other room. My eyes fall heavy as the post-orgasmic haze takes hold. I don’t know how long he leaves me there, but being jostled into solid arms brings back my consciousness.
“You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?”
“Just a little power nap so I can rock your world, big guy.”
“Big guy, huh?” He laughs at the nickname.
“Yeah, I saw that bulge. Twice now. Trust me, there’s plenty down there for me to work with.”
It only takes him a couple of strides from the small living room area to his bed tucked against the other wall. Instead of throwing me on it like he did with the couch, he leans down, crushing our bodies together, his lips fusing with mine.
His kisses are like the sweetest wine, addictive and bound to leave me with a killer hangover in the morning.
“Please, tell me you found a condom,” I pant, breaking away.
His hand slides from beside my head, disappearing behind his back. A row of foil packets hangs from his fingers when he leans up. “These should do,” he says with a wink and drops them to the mattress.
He steals his heat from me, and goosebumps pebble across my skin. A whine of protest tumbles from my lips. But all displeasure ceases when his hand reaches behind his head and pulls the tee shirt from his hulking form.
“Holy fucking shit,” I whisper, but not quiet enough because his lips quirk into a shit-eating grin. “Don’t get cocky on me now,” I scold, but honestly, he deserves to be with a body like that.
His broad chest has a thin dusting of dark hair. And those abs look cut from stone, or maybe it’s from more hours than I’d deem necessary to spend in the gym. He lets me take my fill, slowly popping the button from his jeans before he shoves them down, revealing a pair of tight black briefs molded to a thick cock tucked behind them.
My mouth waters at the tease of what’s coming. I’m not usually one to offer head with a one-night stand. But I don’t see this as a onetime thing between us. I mean, how could it be, when we’re bound to each other for the rest of the week I’m here? A girl has needs, and if he fucks like he kisses, I’ll be begging for more.
“Tell me what’s going through that crazy head of yours.”
“I want to taste you.”
His eyebrows raise at my request, and his thumbs tuck into the band of his briefs. Then they’re gone, shoved to the ground, and kicked away, leaving him gloriously naked. I push off the mattress, trying to sit up and move down to him, but he catches my chest with his callused palm.
“You can taste me later, red. I need to feel that pussy squeezing the life out of my cock. Right. Now.”
He snatches the row of condoms, ripping one free before he rolls it down his thick erection.
I can’t argue when his words make said pussy clench in anticipation.
Dropping my legs open wider, he crawls on top of me, notching at my entrance.
I steal a single breath before he thrusts into the hilt, filling me up.
“Holy fuck.” I suck in, tucked into his neck.
“So tight,” he whispers at the same time.
His hips retreat, finding a tempo that draws more noises out of me than I’ve ever heard. I’ve had my fair share of decent lays, but something about the ruggedness Brooks brings to the bedroom is so different from the guys back home in California.
His rough fingers skate slowly up my calf, stopping to grip behind my knee. Without losing our euphoric rhythm, he hikes up my leg, opening me up to him further. The change in position has him reaching that spot that sends electric bolts down to my toes.
I’m on the edge, riding the tightrope between building pleasure and falling off into satiated bliss. “Mhm, Brooks,” I moan.
“That’s it, red; say my name as I claim this pussy.”
His filthy words and the way he’s slamming his hips against my core could finish me for a second time, but that little voice inside my head refuses to let this man have the final word.
I shove at his chest while I buck my hips, pushing him away from me and his cock from inside me. Taking advantage of his surprise, I roll us over. Brooks goes with it, tucking his hands behind his head, those bulging biceps covered in thick veins.
I tease his cock with my wetness, rocking back and forth while peppering kisses across his broad chest. I follow the deep divot between his pecs, flicking his nipple.
He jerks, and his dick twitches under me, but it’s the throaty groan that drives me wild.
I need him back inside me, his thickness filling me to the brim to push me over the edge.
His patience snaps and his hand flies down to my waist, quelling my movements to notch him back at my opening.
Taking him in this position, fully seated, hits the perfect spot inside me, and I cry out. I slap down against his chest, his firm muscles moving under my weight, steadying me to pick up my pace.
Fucking him is better than I expected.
Watching the bliss pass across his handsome face, displayed without regret, is more intimate than anticipated. He distracts me from the worrying thought when his hand disappears between us, finding my aching clit.
I explode, coming hard and crumpling to his chest.
He bands his arms around my frame, taking hold to work his own release from my spent body. I’m half-conscious, still riding through my pleasure, when I feel him swell and jerk to a stop.
We still, both of us, drawing in quick breaths to steady our racing hearts.
I have zero desire to move from his warmth, his softening cock still seated within my body.
His fingers trace light strokes up and down my back. The tender touch shoots me back to my earlier thought of intimacy, and it’s the kick in the ass to push me to roll off him onto the mattress.
He says nothing but rolls off the side, dealing with our protection.
I want to pull the soft sheet up around my body and tuck into the mattress, but there’s something thick hanging in the air now.
“I should go,” I pause, watching his back stiffen as the words leave my lips. “Shouldn’t I?”
His hand disappears into a dresser drawer, and an old t-shirt lands beside me on the mattress.
“You’re not leaving,” he informs me, leaning over to drop a soft kiss on my forehead.
He pushes off and turns, heading for the other side of the apartment. That sculpted ass on full display for me to ogle free from their denim confines.
Slipping his shirt on, I snuggle into the soft mattress, my eyes falling heavy as I await his return.
A loud vibration stirs me from my sleep. I shoot my hand out, hitting an empty bed next to me, looking for my phone to shut it off. It doesn’t connect, and I draw my eyes open and focus on the room that is not my hotel. The vibration comes again, and my mind fully grasps my surroundings.
The noise in question is passed out, snoring loudly on his back. I watch him sleep for a few minutes, being a total creep, but he looks more peaceful than I’ve yet to see him. Slinking from the mattress, making sure not to jostle it too much and wake Brooks, I snag my dress and panties from the floor, peeling his shirt from my body and getting dressed.
My phone is shockingly still alive on the kitchen table, but the book of notifications on the front screen sends me into a panic. The third one I open threatens bodily harm if I don’t respond, and the fourth is a bride about ready to pull rank and remove me from her wedding party.
I’m late for our spa day.
Shit!
Plucking my purse from the hook by the door, I dig through the messy bag full of receipts and wrappers trying to find the keys to my rental. I hope it’s still parked at the curb and hasn’t been towed. I must have taken a wrong turn because instead of stepping back into the alley, I’m stepping out into the bar.
It’s too early for it to be open, but a throat clears, sending my phone into the air and my feet from the ground. I let out a screech of horror and whirl in the noise’s direction.
“Fucking hell, Nick. What are you doing?”
“What am I doing? I work here. What are you doing, slinking through the bar at this hour?” he asks, eyebrow raised.
I narrow mine at him, knowing damn well the bedhead and date night outfit screams, got laid parade, and I ignore him. “Is the front door open? I really have to go; I’m running late!”
He stares me down while I continue my escape. “Yep, you’re all good.”
Just as I’m about to be free, my body entirely out on the sidewalk, he yells after me. “Don’t fuck with his heart, Indie!”
I pause on the threshold and glance back at him, the easy agreement stuck in my throat. All I can do is nod and let the door close behind me.
Fuck with his heart? What about mine?