3. Ian
3
IAN
She's kissing me. And I'm letting her because she tastes so damn good.
Nothing like I've ever had before.
There's a distant taste of cherry on her tongue, and on closer exploration, I decide she'd been having one of those fruity cocktails at the bar.
She pulls at my arm, forgetting that she'd been the one to patch it just a minute ago. I don't care, though. I just pick her up and place her right on my lap where she belongs, where she should have been all these years if I hadn't let my head get the best of me.
There's no time for regret now. So I pull her closer to me, squishing her body into mine as I devour her soul through her mouth.
“Oh God, Ian. Don't stop,” she moans.
Like I planned to.
Shifting her so there's space between us, I let my hands grab her now full breasts, and I can't help the groan I let out.
Goodness gracious, she is full. Full, soft, and very tempting.
I need to have a taste of her.
Breaking the kiss, I see her eyes flutter at me in confusion before lucidity sets in, and I see a protest forming in her head.
Oh, hell no.
She started this. There's no way I'm letting her back out.
I forgo her breasts for a moment and dip my hand straight into her pants, aiming for her clit. I start to lavish with generous strokes the moment my thumb is on it.
“Oh fuck, please yeah,” she moans, pushing her hips further into my hand.
Now, that's what I'm talking about.
“You like it, baby?” I croon, applying pressure now and watching her body become more frenzied.
“Yesssss. Please don't stop.”
Never!
I push her top up with my other hand and gaze at the lusciousness of her breasts.
It's official. These will be the end of me. She will be the end of me. Diving my head between them, I use my teeth to pull her bra aside and pluck one hard nipple into my mouth.
She screams at the contact, both her hands coming around my head to hold it to her breast.
“Don't you stop. Ian, don't you fucking stop.”
I chuckle against her breast at the enthusiasm, focusing more on the nipple now that I know it's her soft spot. I think it's mine, too.
I take my thumb away from her clit and caress her pussy lips, her wetness welcoming me eagerly. I slip a finger inside her, and she clamps around me. As I start to pump inside her, her words become incoherent. Something between, yes, oh, babe, more !
As incoherent as her words are, they encourage me. She is pushing me to give her all the pleasure she can take. So I add another finger inside her, my thumb gently on her clit to tap as I pump my fingers inside her. Soon, she's convulsing, shaking, and begging me to continue as she chases her high, and then she shatters. So beautiful. I want to see her like that forever.
Before she can come down from her orgasm, I shift her up, remove her pants, and release my dick from my jeans. It's not an easy task, but I succeed, pushing my dick inside her wet and tight core before she can open her eyes.
Her eyes flash open at my thrust, and she stares at me with a look of utter pleasure in her eyes, driving me insane.
“You like?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Not like. Love. So much. I want to own it.”
Oh, God. Words like that will land her in trouble.
“For how long?” I find myself asking her as I lift her up and down my dick.
“What? To own? However long I'm allowed to,” she whispers, her eyes closing.
I pull her off me totally, her eyes flashing open to stare at me in surprise.
“Stand,” I command her.
She does as I say, and I do the same. Instantly tugging down my jeans completely the moment I'm standing, her eyes following my every move.
When my legs are free, I lift her by the hips, and she brings her legs around me, using one of her hands to take my dick inside her as she closes the space between our bodies.
“Greedy girl,” I tease.
“Only for you,” she responds.
Damn. She's going to kill me.
Gritting my teeth, I turn so we are facing the couch and gently put her down, her hips at the edge and my ankle folding so I can be at the same level as her. Then, I start to pound inside her so hard the cushion beneath us starts to shake.
The more she screams, the harder I fuck her, wanting to claim her. Own her like she wants me.
When my orgasm takes over me, it starts from the root of my hair to the very soles of my feet. Bliss as I've never felt before floods through my being before it starts to vibrate me, and I jerk as I continue to thrust into her.
By the time I finish, I am fully collapsed on top of her, a giddy smile coming from us both.
Catching my breath, I glance up at her to see her face.
God, she's so beautiful.
“And what's funny?” I ask.
“This whole thing,” she says between laughter.
Pushing my weight up so I don't crush her too much, I speak again.
“How so?”
“It all just happened so fast, but oh so good. It feels unreal! Like something that would happen in a novel. Something I would write.” She finishes with a shrug.
I nod in understanding. Everything did happen in a rush, but nothing about this feels unreal.
It feels right.
“I guess I'll have to spend the rest of the night assuring you how real this is,” I whisper. I kiss the tip of her nose.
She's beaming when I pull away from her.
“Is that a promise?” she asks eagerly.
“Only if you want it to be.” I wink in response.
She slaps my chest playfully before she starts to push me off her.
“Get off me. I need to quickly freshen up. You can make yourself at home in the meantime.”
“Sure.”
I kiss her lips briefly before I get off her. I take my jeans off the floor, removing my briefs and pulling them up my legs as she passes by me. Her eyes meet mine shyly before she looks away and walks out of the room with my eyes glued to her naked backside.
Damn.
I'm so glad she's not married. And yes, I checked. There's no ring on her finger or any indent of one.
Since she's given me permission to feel comfortable, I walk around her living room, properly taking in the extravagant show of wealth in her home.
Sarah is rich. I guess the writing thing is really paying off for her.
Walking farther into the house, I see an open door and glance into it. It's a library.
I enter inside without any hesitation, allowing myself to look through the books on the shelf. As I inspect, I come across three books with her name on them, and I pick them all up before I go to sit on the luxurious, cozy reading seat in one corner.
There's a sneaky, weird feeling taking root at the back of my mind about how way out of my league I am in this place. But it's not until I finish reading the bio behind the three books I pick up that I realize how far!
Sarah is not just rich. She is successful. She has a life put together and knows what it is she'll have for dinner tonight, breakfast tomorrow morning, and many more days to come. Whereas for me, I have no idea what I'll be served at the motel tonight or tomorrow morning, not to mention what I'll eat for lunch.
She is way out of my league. And if I stick around, I have a feeling I'll be more of a liability to her. Lord knows I wouldn't do that to anyone I don't like, not to mention Sarah, who I actually did like and still do.
Nah, this won't work.
Standing up, I walk back into the living room and leave her house as quietly as I can without alerting her.
Finding my way back to the motel from her house is easy because I'm good with routes. All I have to do is take it once.
As I pass the reception, the lady, Susie, tells me dinner is ready, and she'll have mine brought soon. I thank her and walk to my room.
When I enter, I collapse onto the bed, not even caring to check if the bed sheet is clean. I didn't check earlier, either.
As I lay here, I try not to focus on the mess that's my life and instead try to remember the feeling alcohol had given me earlier. Unfortunately, I can't feel anything due to the time that has passed since my last drink.
Someone knocks on my door, and I stand up to attend to them. It's a new face—room service.
“Your dinner, sir,” she says.
“Yeah, thanks,” I murmur and take it from her hands.
Heading back inside, I close the door and open the food.
Burger and fries. Great.
As I eat, I try to enjoy the meal because it is indeed a tasty one, but my head is too full of unwanted thoughts.
By the time I finish, I enter the bathroom to take a shower, hoping it'll calm me down a little. It doesn't.
One would think I would feel a lot more relaxed after having the best orgasm of my life.
But I just had to find out the woman I like is doing better than I am and bail.
My phone starts to ring, and I pick it up from the bed, refusing to look at the screen and hoping that by some sheer luck, it's Sarah calling so I can just tell her I was an idiot and beg her to come here.
At least being around her, I should be able to sleep well.
“Ian?”
Nope, not Sarah.
“What do you want, Richard?” I snap at my friend and fire chief from work.
“I just wanted to check in on you, see if you're doing well.”
The nice thing to do would be to tell him that I am doing well, but the asshole in me just won't take the high road.
“I'm not fine, Richard, and it's all thanks to you. Happy?”
I hear him sigh.
“I was trying to help, Ian. I’m still trying to help. I hope one day you'll understand that,” he says softly.
“Well, your help is not doing me any good. Besides, you had no right.”
“Actually, I do! I'm your chief. It's my duty to suspend you and keep you away from the risks you keep putting yourself in,” he says sternly.
I open my mouth to come up with a retort, but he's not done.
“It’s not your duty to be a Messiah to anyone. Your duty is to try to save them, which you always do. You did your best so save your brother, too, but the situation was out of your hands. So, stop beating yourself up. No one could have saved him. His death is not on you.”
I want to believe what he's saying so badly, take the out he's giving me, but I can't. I won't.
“So the best way to help me cope with my loss was to take away from me the only thing I had left?”
“Ian, I…”
I stop hearing him as the sound of something crashing in the next room has me standing upright.
What could that be?