8. Vertical Launch
EIGHT
VERTICAL LAUNCH
Rose
Two Blow Job shots in and I’m pandering to the newly formed crowd. The retelling of the fight during Jackie’s bachelorette party at the strip club is going over fairly well. Both men and women are hanging on my every word.
Well, the women are. The men are probably stuck on the strip club part, their minds in the gutter.
“You’re saying that girl over there launched herself off a strip stage and took down a three-hundred-pound thug?” A woman points at Trish on the dance floor.
“Yep.” I nod like the proud mama I feel like when I remember Trish’s sexy airborne scissor kick takedown.
The crowd stares at my petite brunette friend two-stepping in a demure, knee-length pleated skirt, silk tank top, and black platform pumps.
She looks more like a kindergarten teacher with a heel fetish than a vigilante stripper.
“But don’t mention it to her. She’ll get all embarrassed, which will make her fiancé mad.
” I heave a long-suffering sigh. “Things do tend to escalate when the menfolk get snippy.”
Vance chokes on a sip of beer while the women in the crowd nod knowingly.
“Now, y’all scoot.” I wave away the crowd. “I have a feeling this particular member of the menfolk”—I thumb over my shoulder to Vance—"has ulterior motives for showing up tonight, and I am just intoxicated enough to hear him out.” I give Vance the once-over, as if daring him to say otherwise.
He just smiles.
The women laugh while the men murmur words of encouragement to him as they disperse.
He returns my once-over. “You think I have ulterior motives, hmm?”
“Yep.” I grab my fresh rum and Coke from the bar, the empty shot glasses still resting next to it.
“I can’t just be here having a good time?”
“Nope.” I sip pinky out, like the lady we both know I’m not.
“And just how did you come to that conclusion?”
I heave another sigh, slightly worried I’ll hyperventilate.
“Because, Vance, you have never, not once, shown up at any of our gatherings. It is too coincidental that you’re here tonight after I rocked your world in my family’s guest bedroom, then shot you down at Heartbreakers in front of your mom. ”
The bartender walking past stops, looks at us, shakes her head, then keeps walking.
I tip my drink toward him. “And let’s not forget that earlier you admitted to showing up tonight just for me.”
He laughs. “Oh yeah. I did.”
I hitch an elbow up on the bar and lean on it. “So what is it you want?” I wave my drink-free hand down my body and try and keep the hopeful note out of my voice. “Seconds?”
“Seconds would be good.” His eyes roam over my face, and I can feel the heat of his gaze touch on my eyes, my mouth, the length of my neck and pause an extra second on my exposed shoulder and the visible hot pink bra strap. “Thirds and fourths even better.”
My internal temperature gauge just spiked.
“Listen.” I put my drink down and straighten from the bar, clasping my hands together, trying to look solemn.
“I appreciate the prior use of your penis, and even applaud the confidence it took to down Blow Jobs in a crowded cowboy bar, but I need to make this clear. I am not looking for a boyfriend.”
Vance winks. “That’s great, ’cause I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”
“Good.” I drop my hands, ignoring the sting of his acceptance. “We’re on the same page then.”
He looks into the neck of his beer bottle. “Just out of curiosity, though, what are you looking for?” His question sounds too casual to be believable.
Annoyingly, that sparks a flash of unwelcome hope. But if he wants to play games, so can I. Laying on the dramatic flare I’m known for, I heave yet another sigh. “I don’t know. But if you want to be a big strong man and tell me what I should want, I’ll listen.”
The music changes, and we both watch Ian, Flynn, and Holt take their fiancée, wife, and girlfriend into their respective arms and sway, shuffling their feet to another slow two-step.
Something that isn’t quite lust but leaves me wanting all the same crashes over me. It’s the same feeling I had at Jackie’s wedding. It feels like?—
Vance’s bottle hitting the bar top makes me jump.
He takes a step closer, and his scent covers me, bringing lust back to the forefront.
“Well.” He leans down, his breath tickling my ear. “For starters, how about you want more of that fun we’ve had together?”
Fun. For a brief second, I feel hurt, but one look at his sly smile and I shake it off.
“What?” I step back, taking a deep breath and trying to gain control. “Breaking and entering in search of orgasms wasn’t enough fun for you?”
He chuckles, and my eyes clock the way his shoulder muscles bunch as he does. “Oh no, that one goes down in the record books for sure. Even if you were just messing with me.”
I pick up my drink, wrapping my mouth around the small straw. His eyes narrow on to my lips, making me feel triumphant.
“But I’m sure we have a few more record-breaking moments in our future.” He closes the distance between us again. “Weren’t you saying something about the lotus position?”
Trying not to let him see how he’s getting to me, I don’t retreat.
Instead, I joke. “Oh, Vance, Vance, Vance.” I pat him on the shoulder in a consoling fashion.
“I’m not sure an old man like you could handle lotus.
” Shaking my head, I tsk. “In fact, I’m not sure you could handle me more than once— period . ”
Instead of him taking the bait and retreating back to what I’m comfortable with—sarcasm and banter, he leans in even closer, our chests touching. “Well, you know what they say, don’t you?” He nibbles my ear.
I swallow hard. Hopefully he doesn’t notice. “Probably, but why don’t you tell me anyway?”
He grazes my jaw line with the tip of his finger. “There’s only one way to find out.”
I’m pretty sure I’ve just been outplayed. Huh. I don’t think that’s ever happened before. And even more surprisingly, I’m not annoyed about it. I’m pleased.
My eyes flick to the dance floor again, finding my friends and their men still there, still all loved up.
Probably too in love to notice if I disappear early, right?
I slide my arm between us, my hand reaching into my bra. Vance and a few men in the vicinity do a double take when I pull out the wad of cash I keep there. “I’ll get the bill, you get the Uber.”
The sexy eye crinkles deepen. “You got it, Rosie-girl.”
Vance
We’re a tangle of limbs and hot breath as we enter my bedroom.
I was worried how this would go when Rose and I climbed into the Uber. Would there be awkward silence? Would she cry wolf and leave? Would I?
It seems I worried for nothing, because Rose wasted no time filling the twenty-minute drive to my apartment with stories of her party days, recaps of how her friends all fell in love (and the vital role she played in each happily ever after), and how much she loves messing with her college counselor.
Granted, she wasn’t talking to me , but rather the Uber driver. A man closer to Rose’s age than mine, who kept giving me nods and smirks that I assume were to signal how impressed he was by my catch of a young, hot co-ed, all the while using his rearview mirror to look down Rose’s shirt.
Still, her talk managed to kill time before we arrived at my place, situated a minute from NASA on the north side of Clear Lake. And when I stiffed the driver on the tip and gave him a one-star review noting ‘misuse of rearview mirror,’ I felt vindicated, if extremely petty.
Rose skipped up to my apartment on the third-floor whistling, acting like her coming home with me was a common occurrence.
But as soon as my key turned in the lock, it was like a bell went off in her head, and it was game on.
I was nearly tackled from behind as she pushed me through the nearest door.
When I flicked on the lights, she paused in her attack. She glanced around, finding herself in the bathroom. “Whoops.”
When I backed her across the hall into my bedroom, she regrouped, attacking me once more.
And now here we are, her hands busy pulling at my shirt, undoing my belt, fisting my hair.
She’s a tornado. It’s all I can do to stay on track, guiding her to the side of the bed and knocking her back onto it. Déjà vu.
I take a deep, lust-scented breath, needing to slow down, plan my next move.
But as always with Rose, she gives me no quarter. With me now out of reach, she crosses her arms, whipping her shirt off and throwing it somewhere over my shoulder. Her hot pink bra that’s been teasing me all night is lace and sheer and holding the weight of a thousand fantasies.
That comes off too.
“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to take off your pants?”
I push aside the belt buckle that she already undid but pause when I reach for my top button. “Actually”—I drink in the sight of her topless on my bed—“I think I’ll take yours off instead.”
She raises her hips in invitation. “By all means.”
It takes me a second to get a good enough hold on her waistband and the right leverage to peel her skinny jeans off her. They turn inside out as I pull, and with each new inch of skin revealed, my dick presses more urgently against my zipper.
Once her legs are free, I drop her pants and reach out for her panties.
“Ah, ah.” She wags a finger at me. “Tit for tat.” She shimmies, her breasts swaying. “And as this is a lot of tit, you owe me a lot of tat.” She laughs, her head dropping back. “God, I crack myself up.”
I find myself laughing with her as I reach back and tug my T-shirt over my head.
“Keep going, old man. Let’s see if your carpet matches your drapes or if you’re Just for Men-ing your Johnson.”
“Jesus, I’m only thirty-six, I’m not going gray yet.” I shake my head, exasperated, but still smiling.
She shrugs, her tits bouncing. “Yeah, I know. But you’re fun to rile up.” Her tongue rubs her bottom lip, her eyes bright with lust on my chest. “Now hurry up and show me the goods.”
I reach down and tug off my boots first, then shove my pants and boxer briefs to the floor in one move.
“Holy anaconda.” She sighs a happy sigh and slides off the side of the bed to her knees.
She murmurs something that sounds like, “I knew it would be life-changing,” but I’m too turned on by the sight of Rose on her knees, her breasts rising and falling with each breath, her eyes locked on my dick like it’s the key to happiness, to process her words.
I haven’t been this on edge since my high school days. The fleeting thought that Rose was only just born when I was just learning how to control myself in the bedroom nearly has my dick flagging.
That is, until she deep throats it in one go.
She comes back up gagging. “Whelp.” She cough-laughs. “That didn’t go as planned.”
I’ve never had so much fun with someone in bed before. I push her hair back, my thumb at the corner of her upturned lips. “Easy there. You don’t have to?—”
“Are you about to mansplain a blow job to me again?” She plants her hands on her hips. “’Cause I’m just saying, if you do, I’m out.” Her mutinous expression would be cute if I didn’t think she’d follow through on her threat.
“Nope.” I shake my head and zip my lips with my hand, knowing I look ridiculous. “Not mansplaining a thing.”
“Hmmph.” Frowning, she shifts her thighs farther apart, dropping her butt down lower between her heels. “Better not.”
And then I’m in her warm mouth again, her slick tongue running up and down my cock, flicking the underside of the tip.
“Jesus.”
She hums a sound that I’m sure is supposed to be words, but my brain isn’t functioning. She’s deep throating in earnest now, her slightly lower positioning allowing my cock to glide down her throat.
Through hooded eyes, I watch her nostrils flare as she breathes in through her nose, her hands coming up to grip my ass and pull me toward her.
All I can do is hold her hair back and mumble incoherently until my balls start to tighten.
Before I embarrass myself and come, I pull out, the shock of air to my wet dick dialing back my desire enough to reach down and lift Rose up, tossing her on the bed once more.
“I wasn’t finished.” Her pout, still glistening from her expert blow job, is sexy as hell. I’m certain if I let her, this woman would run me ragged for the rest of my life, and I’d love every minute of it.
I shake off the thought and spread her thighs with my hands. “But I haven’t even started yet.” I drop down, licking at her clit.
“Hmm, yeah.” She pulls her thighs up and widens them even more, giving me room to work. “I’ll let you win this round.”
I smile as I go down on her, building her up to a maddening pitch, pushing her hard and fast into orgasm. Lapping at her while she screams.
It isn’t until she’s twitching from light aftershocks that I pull open my nightstand drawer and grab a condom.
She’s only just opened her eyes when I enter her, the fast thrust of my cock arching her back, ripping a moan from her lips. “Ah, fuck yes. Do that. More of that.”
I do. Still smiling, I pull back and pound, a slow, hard rhythm that has her twisting beneath me. Her smart mouth opens in a silent scream as another orgasm rips through her.
And when her inner walls clamp down around me, I see the stars I’ve only ever seen in space.
But somehow, they’re brighter.