Chapter 2 New Years Eve 2026 #2
She opens the door before I can offer to do it for her and steps to the side to allow me in.
She’s not looking at anything but what’s in front of her, so I guess she’s not even a little bit worried people might know why we’re both in the bathroom.
The door shuts tight behind her, and she rises up on her tiptoes to kiss me.
She doesn’t touch me with anything but her lips, but fuck that.
I want to touch. I want to touch everything.
I want to see if her nipples are as hard as I thought they were last time. I want to trace her slim back all the way to the curve of her ass barely hidden by that lace fabric. I want to inhale her whole and make her mine, even if I don’t know her name.
Sweet, soft lips taste faintly of grapes and lust as they kiss me, and it’s better than I remember.
My hands roam her back, pulling her closer as I walk us back toward the bathroom door.
I turn the latch, making sure it’s locked before I gently push her body against the door. She gasps into my lips.
“You have no clue how often I’ve thought about your lips on mine again. About your citrusy scent invading my senses again.”
“Is this what was hiding underneath the shy boy persona? This possessive man who tells me his thoughts and doesn’t simplify everything to a one word question?” she sasses.
I turn her around, pinning her arms above her head with one hand and tracing the round ass in front of me with the other. “This possessive man will spank this perfect ass if you keep sassing me like that.” My voice is rough against her neck.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to do last year, but I had to control myself. How do we feel about that? Huh?” I kiss her gently.
“How I feel about what?” she murmurs, her voice doing more to me than my wildest dreams. “Sassing you, or you spanking my ass for being mouthy?”
I groan. “Both.”
“Try it and find out.” She pushes her ass against my hand harshly, and I see stars. I will die in this bathroom with this girl grinding on me, happy this is how I go.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” I mutter.
“Tick, tock, Asher. Are you a man of your word, or are—”
I spank her, right in the middle of her ass cheek, earning me a hot as sin whimper.
We like it.
Got it.
“You were saying?” she asks, but her voice shifts from sassy to lustful.
“Where is it okay for me to touch?” I grab her ass gently, and she spreads her legs.
“Everywhere. Please.”
“So, so polite.” I raise her dress up her legs and over her ass. A black lace thong barely covers anything, and I groan.
“Hands on the door, yeah?” She nods at my suggestion.
I slide her underwear down, and she promptly steps out of them. I use this as my cue to sit under her, back against the wall, her perfect pussy right in front of me. She looks down, keeping her hands on the door, just like I told her to.
“Can I kiss everywhere too?” I ask, smiling at her.
“Fuck, yes. Please,” she begs, sticky lust guiding her words.
My hands find her ass, quickly pulling her to me, and in one, quick swoop, my tongue slides through her folds.
“Fuck,” she whispers as I groan against her slick sex.
She not only smells like oranges, she tastes citrusy too.
Or tropical, maybe. Pineapple and lemon, mixed with whatever other perfect taste.
How does this girl look like that, smell and taste like this, and she’s walking around without a ring on her finger?
I take my time licking and teasing every inch of this gift.
She lifts a knee, letting it rest on my shoulder and bucking against my face.
The taste of her arousal changes, and fuck, if I don’t like it even more.
I lick, lap, and suck at everything, flicking my tongue over her clit and grabbing her ass harder.
“Yes,” she whispers, all breathy and spent.
I won't stop. I want her orgasm almost as relentlessly as I want her name. If this was another time, maybe another lifetime, I would want more from her, but claiming her orgasm is enough for me, at least for now. Her legs quiver around me, and I suck her clit into my mouth, hard. She explodes.
She swirls her hips, barely able to move as she grinds closer and tighter to my face. As if she could come any closer. As if she could come any harder.
“Fuck!” she shouts as I groan, and with quick, shuddering breaths, she relaxes, and I let go.
“You taste perfect.”
“Thanks,” she whispers, and we both laugh. I slide myself up between her and the wooden door pressing hard against my back. She doesn’t waste any time, and her lips are back on mine. Her hand lowers to grab my dick, and now I’m the one moaning.
“Do you think you can fuck me right now?” she asks.
“Baby, I would give you anything you want right now, but I don’t have a condom on me. I didn’t think I would find you today, let alone have sex with you. I’m good, I promise.” I kiss her lips, just long enough to leave me wanting more but short enough that my dick won’t get any more ideas.
“Promise you won’t kill me,” she says with a smile on her face.
“Scout’s honor.” I kiss my index and middle fingers and lift them in the air.
She unlocks the door. “Pick those up and let’s go.” She opens the door and steps through, leading the way who knows where, but I grab her thong and gladly follow.
Down by Marian Hill
“At the risk of sounding like a stalker, is this where you live?” I ask as we walk through the front door of what seems like a Victorian hotel.
She chuckles, turning back with a smile on her face that stops me in my tracks. “No, I wouldn’t be bringing a stranger into my house the second time I meet him . . . and I’m not local. This is a hotel.”
The reception area is dark and quiet, the probability of someone working right now slim. This is reckless; if I was a dangerous man, she’d have no way of alerting anyone else.
“I’m not a stranger. You are.” My whispers carry through the space as we continue down a corridor and stop in front of a room. A room she opens with a key from the case on her phone. The entire room smells like her: oranges, lemons, maybe even grapefruit, like a citrus fruit salad exploded.
“I’m as much of a stranger to you as you are to me,” she replies, turning and letting her dress drop to her feet, leaving her in those sexy as hell heels and nothing else.
“I still don’t know your name.”
My strides reach her quickly, careful not to touch, as if she’s made of glass and I might break her. I want her to say she wants me before I go any further. Her body does, but I want words. I want to hear her say it, and I want her to tell me her damn name.
“Top drawer.” Half the time, she makes zero sense. Top drawer what?
“What?” That makes her smile wider, and I roll my eyes. She points to a drawer, where I find a clear bag full of condoms. “Came prepared, huh?”
“I’m always prepared, and I’ll tell you what.” She bites the corner of her lower lip, right where I want to bite myself. “Make me come again, and I’ll tell you my name. But hurry, because I told my friends if they don’t hear from me in the next hour, send the police.”
She twirls her hair in her hand and tosses it over her shoulder, allowing her breasts to be on full display. My dick sure as hell is happy to see them. She says we don’t have time; I can work with that. I’ve been ready to be inside her for a whole ass year.
“How do you like to be fucked, mystery girl?” I step out of my shoes and closer to her.
“Slow and tender.” Her skin breaks out in goosebumps under my careful touch down her arm.
“Fast and deep.” The space between us is practically non-existent now, and she catches a breath.
I lower my lips to the shell of her ear, breathing her all the way in and whispering, “Or you don’t care, just as long as I have you screaming my name.”
She shudders. “I’m not a screamer.”
“I would love to test that theory.” I cup her face with one hand, allowing me to hold her in place while I lick her neck—oh, she tastes so sweet.
She tilts her head back, granting me better access, and I bite tenderly. She hisses and arches her back, pressing her chest to mine.
“Go ahead. See what you find out,” she sasses.
Fuck yes.
“I’ve been thinking about this moment for a year.” I hold her face in my hands and stare at her, hoping my gaze reaches her soul. Have I invaded all her fantasies and dreams as she has mine?
“Get on your knees on the bed.”
She blushes and nods, walking backwards, her heated gaze eating me alive as I take my clothes off. “Is that a thigh tattoo?”
I nod, bringing my index finger to my lips.
“Shh, it’s a secret.” This little tattoo almost got me in trouble with my parents, who are ‘your body is your temple’ fanatics and didn’t allow tattoos.
The first thing I said I was going to do after leaving their house was get tattoos everywhere, but I haven’t had time at all.
So just one, a small rock with waves crashing on it. My little rebellious act.
She reaches down to take her shoes off, but I shake my head, stopping her from doing it. “Those stay on.”
Her gray eyes linger on my body, raking every part of me. When they reach mine, I smirk. “So tell me—what’s better: your dreams or reality?”
“Funny, I don’t seem to remember telling you I’ve been dreaming of you.” She’s so sassy, and all I want to do is fuck that mouth of hers and see what she thinks of that.
“We both know you did . . . but let me answer that for you.” I reach for her, my hands digging into her hips and flipping her over, pushing gently until her hands touch the bed. “I’m about to give you something to dream about.” She eyes me sheepishly, and I smile. “Get on the bed.”
She climbs up, her perfect ass practically in my face, testing me, teasing me. My handprint is still on her right cheek. I lick the mark and then kiss it, whispering into her flesh, “I’m sorry for this.”
“I’m not.” She pushes her ass back, pressing against my lips. I smile; what else can I do?
“Anything off limits?” I ask.