First Ink wic-1 Read online

  “What?” I mumble nearly incoherently. “Anything.”

  “Tell me why you came back? Why?”

  I groan. He’s so deep inside of me now my walls are contracting around him. Much more of this and I’m going to come. “You know why!” I cry out.

  “For forgiveness?” His fingers brush over the seam of my ass.

  I can only nod. My breath is stalled inside my lungs and my heart is slamming against my chest. Oh, god…is he? Is he going to touch me there?

  “Damn, woman.” He eases his fingers lower, drenches them with my cream, then returns to my ass. “It’s done. Okay, Ads? It’s over. You have it. No more of this bullshit.”

  Slowly, he enters me with one wet finger. “Oh, fuck, you’re tight. Around my cock and around my finger.”

  I cry out. It’s too much. Pressure and pleasure and memories. This was something only we shared. I loved it. I loved him.

  He moves us. Somewhere. A wall, I think. He presses back against it and bears down on me, fucking me so hard I scream, all the while using his finger in slow, gentle strokes. The combination is my downfall. I cling to him, my eyes clenched tight. I’m shaking, convulsing, writhing, a wave of dizziness coming over me. And yet, I can’t stop. I buck against him, moaning that I need more, I need all of him.

  “Oh yeah, that’s it, baby,” he snarls close to my ear. “Your pussy’s fisting me, milking me.”

  My nails dig into his shoulders as I feel him jerk and grow impossibly bigger inside of me. I gasp, shove my hips forward. I can’t get close enough. His finger presses deeper into my rear and his thrusts go hard, fast and deep, hitting that spot in me that sends my flying. And I’m off, gone. Shattered. Crying out my climax, my eyes flood with tears. Waves upon waves of intense heat lash over me as Rush continues to fuck me, using my orgasm to send him into his.

  “Oh, Addison,” he groans, thrusting fiercely into me, chasing his high. “My Ads.”

  I feel the hot rush of his come bathe my walls, and I grip him even tighter, hold him even closer as he eases his finger out of me and satisfies my last clenches of orgasm with four deep, yet slow thrusts into my sex. God, this is right. This is it. How it’s supposed to be. Finally, he slows, drops his head back against the wall and wraps his arms around my waist, locking me in.

  “Fuck, Ads,” he breathes.

  “I know,” I say, dragging my tear-stained face across his shoulder. “I know.”

  Without another word, he pushes away from the wall and heads out of the kitchen. Sweat clings to us both as he carries me down the long hallway. I know where we’re going. I saw it on my tour. His bedroom. It’s big and modern and right now that’s all I can register or care about because when we enter, he goes straight for the bed and lays me down, oh-so gently, on my side. No lights are on, but the moon’s magnificent glow streams in through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. The sheets feel cool and soft against my skin, but they’re nothing compared to the hot, hard body that tucks in behind me.

  For a good five minutes, or maybe it’s an hour, I don’t know or care, we just lie together like sweaty spoons. I stare out the window to the landscape in the distance and let myself acknowledge the perfection in the moment. Coming to Las Vegas, I hadn’t even dreamed I’d get to share this again with Rush.

  I close my eyes and try to calm my breathing. Tomorrow I’m supposed to go back, to home and school. I have a paper due on Monday…

  “What are you doing?” Rush whispers against my neck.

  I shiver. “I don’t know.” Thinking. Trying not to think. “I could easily fall asleep.”

  He groans softly. “Shit, me too. But, baby, there’s not going to be any sleeping tonight.”

  I feel his cock, hard and ready against the curve of my butt. My back arches automatically. “You want me to stay?”

  He’s quiet for a second, and I wish I had a super power that allowed me to hear the thoughts of others. Or maybe just one other.

  “Addison,” he says finally. “I have you in my bed. You’re not going anywhere. Not tonight, not…”

  He stops himself. And I panic. The last thing in the world I want is for this moment to go south, and if he starts overthinking, that’s exactly where we’re headed. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. Tonight, we’re going to kiss, and lick each other, and laugh, and fuck. That’s it.

  I roll to my belly and give him a seductive smile. “I’m very open to being your prisoner.”

  His eyes instantly darken. “How open?”

  As he watches, a grin pulling at his mouth, I come up on all fours. “How’s this?”

  He groans. He’s so gorgeous and so completely captivating, I could stare at him for days without a break. No food, no water. Just Rush.

  “Damn, Ads,” he practically growls. “That sweet ass kills me.”

  As he slips a hand beneath me and plays gently, erotically with my nipple, I close my eyes and sigh. It’s done. I’m done. Forever. I swear, to whoever is up there directing traffic, this guy owns me. My heart, my body, every cell.

  My pussy stirs with heat, and I squirm, wanting him again. Just the thought of him entering me, inch by steely inch, makes hot shards of pleasure rip through my sex.

  My eyes open. His hand is gone from my breast, and he’s behind me now, his fingers working the tape from between my shoulder blades.

  “What are you doing?” I say, glancing over my shoulder.

  “Taking off the bandage.” He’s flush against me now, the thick shaft of his cock moving tantalizingly between my sensitive flesh as he works. “It’s been two hours.”

  Two hours? I feel a pang of anxiety, like time is moving too fast. Tomorrow’s coming too quickly. “How is it?”

  He sucks air between his teeth and his eyes lift to mine. “Perfect.”

  “Can I see it?” I feel the hard, wet pressure of his cock against my opening.

  His eyes still locked to mine, he shakes his head. “Not yet,” he says, sinking into me with a groan. “Not yet.”

  Rush

  The morning light out here near the Red Rocks is so different than just twenty minutes away in Vegas. It almost looks like it’s made out of crystal. And the sky is so damn blue. As I come up on one elbow and take a gander out the window, I think this might be the most perfect morning I’ve ever seen.

  Or maybe it’s the exact same as every other morning, but I got this girl in my bed.

  I sniff and shake my head. I slept maybe an hour last night. I had this crazy-ass urge to keep watch over her. You know, like some jerkoff roaming the desert was going to find his way up here and try to break in. Steal shit.

  Steal my girl.

  Whoa, whoa, whoa, dickhead, I tell myself. Don’t do that. For your own fucking sanity, don’t do it.

  My eyes cut to her. She has her back to me, a sheet at her waist, and that light I was going on about a moment ago, it’s hitting my tat so perfectly my fucking guts roll over.

  What the hell am I going to do? One-night-onlys happen more often than they probably should for me, but one night bliss sessions with the former love of your fucking life? Addison came here for two reasons: to tell me the truth about why she dumped my ass for another guy in front of an entire puberty-infested gymnasium; and to apologize for it.

  Done.

  That memory used to kill me. She’d said she was sick that morning, didn’t feel good enough to go to the dance. Sure I’d rented a tux and my stepdad was going to spend the night drinking so he’d offered me his car, but it wasn’t like it was prom or anything. Just homecoming. And since neither of us played a sport or carried pom-poms, I didn’t care. Thing was, I cared for her. I’d opened up a can of Campbell’s, and brought it over to her house. The chick who answered the door was really forthcoming with the information, grinned when she said it and everything.

  The Campbell’s had gone into the bushes and I’d gone to the school. Ads and me, we never really tried to be friends with anybody else. We were so tight. I think that was the ki
ck in the ‘nads for me. We were best friends, and there she was—so not sick—and slow dancing with that buttoned-up vanilla douche from the wrestling team.

  Cops would’ve been called that night if Addison hadn’t stepped in, told me to take a walk. Course, my walk was a lot farther than she or I expected.

  Next day, I packed all my shit and took a bus to New York. Refused every goddamn attempt Addison made to contact me. Like Ads said, we’re all morons at seventeen.

  My eyes move over her skin. Everything’s different now. Our lives, our futures. And yet, this thing between us hasn’t died. If anything, it’s gained in strength like a tornado or a tsunami. Vanilla was a test, a break in the weather. But now…what?

  She said she still loves me, but she never said anything about a second chance. About us trying this again. For all I know, she’s got someone back in Cali.

  Once again, my guts plummet, rollercoaster-style. I never asked if she was seeing someone. Maybe I should’ve. Or maybe I should just go with the I-don’t-give-a-flying-fuck attitude.

  She moves then, stretching, arms up, back arching, butt lifting my way.

  Blood surges, heavy and painful, into my cock and I drop onto my back, lock my hands behind my head. Granted, I’m a horny motherfucker, but I’ve never wanted a girl like I want Addison. It’s always been like that. Even after I left town. I’m not proud to admit it, but I couldn’t stop my mind from dropping her face and those eyes a few times when I was with someone else.

  Thing is, back in the day, I’d known. I’d known we belonged together. Not just until grad, but for the long haul. We were just, as the old folks say, meant for each other. But like anything partnership-related, it takes two.

  “Rush?”

  She utters my name all sleepy and sexy and turns over, drapes herself across my chest and groin, snuggles in tight. My cock lifts against her thigh and instantly, she lowers her leg and wraps her hand around my shaft.

  I forget everything, even my name—Joe? Darrell? Bob?—as she begins to stroke me off. At first it’s just light, sensual petting, Easy Like Sunday Morning kinda thing, but as I pump into her hand, and as the head of my dick sports a few drops of come, she tightens her hold.

  Her head is tucked into my neck, and as she works me over, she bites and laps at my skin.

  “Tongue tracers,” she whispers, licking down my neck and over my collarbone as she jacks me.

  “What?” I manage to kick out.

  “Your ink,” she says, moving farther, running her tongue around my nipple.

  Shit, if she’s going to be using her mouth that way I need to get that thing pierced, like yesterday.

  Speaking of using her mouth…I groan as her head snakes down over my belly and lands dead center. My cock is throbbing in anticipation. It loves her hand, needs her pussy. But right now, it wants her mouth.

  She looks up at me, her lips resting on the head of my prick.

  “Fuck, I hope you’re thirsty, baby.”

  “Parched beyond reason, Rush.” She grins, then sticks out her pretty pink tongue and licks into the slit.

  I groan. “You remember how much I come?”

  She nods, her eyes bright and excited, like it’s fucking Christmas morning.

  I thrust gently toward her. “Every drop then, Addison.”

  Her nipples bead as she nods again. Then her head drops and she sucks me deep, taking me all the way to the back of her throat. I curse, loud and guttural, going momentarily blind. Shit, her mouth is hot and wet. Then she retreats, her lips just covering the head now. Her eyes lift to mine and they shine with sexual power.

  Go to it, baby, I want to say. Take whatever you want, however you want it. But my voice is lost. Gone on a voyage far, far away.

  She pushes her lips all the way over the head now, slowly working her way to the root. And when she gets there—what does she do? Grab my fucking ball sack. Come beads at the tip of my dick and she licks it right up, moaning when there’s nothing left.

  As she gently massages my testicles, she works her tongue up and down my shaft, Popsicle-style, then drops her head and sucks me deep. I thread my fingers in her hair and start pumping into her mouth. That really gets her going. She moans and closes her eyes and rubs her gorgeous tits against my thigh. Breathing hard, my gut clenching, my gaze lands on her upper back, the artwork I put on her—my brand—and stays there.

  I come hard, my balls pulling up, my dick swelling. I know it’s a river I’m pumping into her, but she drinks me down like I’m the best goddamn thing she’s ever tasted.

  And maybe I am. Because to me, she’s the best I’ve ever had. The only thing I want.

  As I keep thrusting, slower and slower, she eases back and starts licking me clean, tending to me all sweet and shit. After going all night, I swear to god I should be soft and done, but it’s Addison. She’s my candy, my addiction. My dick stays hard for her. It knows her. It wants her. Again and again.

  I reach down and grab her under the shoulder blades. I lift her up, then slowly, inch by inch, place her down on my shaft. Her honey walls instantly curl around me, cream around me.

  I watch her as she rides me, as her fingers dig into my chest—as her goddamn eyes cling to mine. Right now, I’m not clear. Right now, my heart is having trouble knowing the difference between sex and love. And that’s got to be because with Addison there is no difference.

  When she starts to really pick up speed and my hands grope at her perfect ass, I close my eyes and swallow the words that are fighting to get out of my mouth.

  I love you too, Ads.

  Never stopped.

  Her walls clench around me.

  Never want to stop.

  Addison

  Lisa: WTF, Addy! Where are u?

  Me: W/rush. What’s wrong?

  Lisa: I’ve been trying 2 reach you!

  Me: Sry! Phone off.

  Lisa: It’s OK. Just worried abt u.

  Me: I’m fine. Sore & fine:)

  Lisa: Gross.

  Me: Heh heh.

  Lisa: When I didn’t hear from u I got freaked, went 2 that tattoo parlor.

  Me: ?!?!?

  Lisa: I tried 2 find out where rush lives, but that asshole vincent wouldn’t give it up.

  Me: Oh, hon, I’m sorry. I told u I’d prob B out all night.

  Lisa: He was a real dick 2 me. Said some things…

  Me: What did he say?

  Lisa: When r u coming bk 2 the hotel? I really need 2 talk 2 u.

  Me: WTF did he say, Lis???

  Lisa: Just come, ok?

  Me: K. I’ll b there in 1 hr.

  I look up. Rush is staring at me, all gorgeous and heavy-lidded and tousled hair, and wearing only his ink and a pair of black sweats that hang appetizingly on his hips. We’re sitting on top of his sleek wood table outside on his massive deck. The sun is shining and a killer breeze is rolling off the desert. There’s a bunch of food laid out between us: bagels and cream cheese and fruit. And right before I got Lisa’s text, Rush was mentioning something about spreading that cream cheese on my stomach instead of his bagel.

  I inhale deeply. I wish—really, really wish—I could pretend I didn’t pick up my phone to check messages, stay in Rush & Addy Land all day. But my friend needs me, and we’re supposed be driving back to L.A. in a few hours.

  Rush lifts one eyebrow at me and my skin heats up instantly. The guy’s just walking, talking, breathing sex.

  “Your friend okay?” he asks.

  I pick a grape from the bunch and roll it between my fingers. “I don’t know. Something’s wrong. She went to Wicked Ink last night.”

  “Why?” His brows draw together.

  Jesus, even a confused frown on him is hot. Everything he does, every look, every word, I just melt. How the hell am I going to leave here, leave him, and go back to my life?

  My vanilla life.

  “She’s worried about me,” I say.

  “She think I abducted you?”

  His green eyes fl
ash with equal parts heat and amusement. I die. Or sigh. Or both.

  “Something like that.” I pop the grape in my mouth, and when the juice bursts inside me, all I can think about is us, Rush and me and what we have together. What’s happened between us in the past twenty-four hours. How we’ve fallen back into it, into each other. And it’s like no time has passed. We joke and touch and tease so damn easy.

  But does he see it? Or was this a kickass twenty-four hour reunion/sex marathon, and it’s over now, and we both go back to our lives? Because he hasn’t said anything. Not one word about me leaving or not wanting me to leave.

  “She had a run-in with Vincent,” I say. “Trying to get your address out of him.”

  He teases a couple of grapes from their stem. The thing relents way easily. I know the feeling, my purple friend.

  “I’m guessing that didn’t go over well. Everyone at Wicked knows not to give out my personal information.”

  “Is he a bad guy, Vincent?” I ask.

  Rush shakes his head. “No. Just a horny guy.”

  “Like you?” I smile.

  He snorts. “Oh, baby, that dude is way worse than me. I’m into one woman beneath me, on top of me, on her hands and knees in front of me.”

  Every cell in my body reacts to the words, and the suggestive look he gives me while saying it. Cream freaking cheese, I want to cry out. What were you going to do with the cream cheese, dammit?!?

  But Lisa’s my friend, my bestie, my beeyotch, and I will always have her back. Especially when she needs me.

  “He wouldn’t act stupid, would he?” I ask. “Force something?”

  “Hell, no.” Rush gives me a serious look. “The guy’s a total slut, for sure, but he’s not a pusher.” He pops the grapes in his mouth one by one, and I’ve never felt so jealous of fruit in my life. “I don’t know what went down, but if she went nuts wanting my address, he might’ve told her to take a hike in bright colors, if you know what I’m saying.”