Not My Fantasy Page 7

If it was going to be as good as the romance novels always said it was, I probably wouldn't. God, will this ruin me for normal men? I wondered. I met his gaze, unwavering and unblinking until he hissed something to himself, then shrugged the singlet off in one motion dumping it on the floor, then going for his jeans. I stopped his hands with a light touch, then moved in closer, so I could breathe in his scent–a mixture of motor oil, green grass and sandalwood–and feel the heat radiating from his body. I pushed his hands back to by his side, letting my fingers run up his forearms. The flesh was so hard and unyielding, there wasn't an ounce of softness in him. I traced the spidery path of his veins up over his biceps, trailed my fingers over his shoulders, and then buried my hands in his hair. It felt like raw silk, smooth and slipping through my fingers. I ran the flats of my hands over the heavy slabs of his shoulder blades, circled the column of his throat and felt his swallow as I did so. His breath came in short pants as my fingernails scraped over his nipples when I moved in and placed small, dry kisses along his neck. He let out a low rumble as my hands scratched down his abdomen, catching on his waistband. His hands shot out to capture my wrists as I went to unzip his jeans. "No," he said with a growl.

  "Let me touch you a little."

  "No, not yet."

  "Let me or this ends now."

  "Look, lady, give me a fucking break. I have never been this hard, nor have I ever wanted something so much. I don’t know what it is about you, but my dick likes you very, very much. It's taking every scrap of will I have not to throw you on that bed, yank your clothes off and just jam my cock into you.” His arms slid around me and he bent his head down to touch mine. "I want to do it right, have your tight little cunt milking the seed right out of me as you come and come and I can't do that if you start touching me."

  "So, I won’t touch you," I said, stepping back and pulling my t-shirt off, then my bra. He seemed almost dumbstruck, his eyes raking over my body, taking in every inch before he closed the gap between us, flicking the button of his jeans open while toeing off his boots. His fingers skittered over my skin, making me gasp. It was as if every nerve had snapped to attention at once. When he pulled away to remove the rest of his clothes, I almost cried out, wanting to yank his hands back. I blinked, shaking my head, remembering what I was insisting he do. I dropped down to my knees and looked.

  Thankfully, he wasn't twelve inches. My vagina's not twelve inches long, so what I would have done with that, I don't know. Nevertheless, he was big and thick. The head was deep red, veins standing out in stark relief along the shaft. I wanted to at least run one finger down its length, feel that velvet-covered steel feeling erections had, but as he was respecting my requests, I guess I should respect his. I grinned wickedly when I realised I had a loophole and blew my breath out onto his sensitive skin.

  "Right," he snapped, jerking me to my feet, carrying me to my bed and throwing me down on it. He tore my clothes and shoes off and then was on me. His body settled hard against mine, his cock resting tantalisingly between my legs. I wriggled a little as he kissed me, seeing if I could push it closer, but the height difference had me beat. "I'm wet, let’s just do it," I gasped between kisses. "We can do it your way next time."

  He pulled back, rearing over me in the afternoon light, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Nah, you've had your turn, now it’s mine. I'm not fucking you until I'm ready. Now lie back," he said with a shove on my chest. “Fair's fair."

  Except there were no more glancing caresses from him. It was like he knew every damned thing my body liked, without me telling him. He traced his tongue around the hard bead of one nipple while pinching the other just this side of pain, sending bolts of pleasure into my cunt. He latched on hard, sucking it into his mouth, so I’d feel the scrape of his teeth and the relentless pressure. His fingers played lightly around the edges of my groin, chuckling when I tried to move and force them into my centre. He tucked me into the side of his body, running his fingers through my pubic hair, brushing my clit, but only enough to make me grunt in frustration.

  "Spread your legs for me, honey," he purred into my ear. I did so, gladly and he laughed at my willingness. He shifted, so I lost the warmth of his body against mine. I lay there, as open as one can physically be, my skin beginning to cool when I looked up, wondering what the fuck was going on. "Just drinking it in," he said. "That's about the most beautiful sight I've ever seen, just wanted to take that in, store that away in my head for later."

  "Please?" I begged with a whimper. It was all very well to be experiencing fairy tale levels of arousal, but my clit damn near ached. One little flick and I could be. . . .

  "Well, since you asked so nicely," he said and yanked my butt to the edge of the bed in one movement, falling to his knees in the next.

  "Oh!" The air shot out of me as soon as his mouth made contact. Prickly beard hairs dragged a pleasure/pain out of me as his tongue flickered, all over me, in a haphazard way initially, my hips raising from the bed to try and prolong the sensation in one or two spots, until his hands dug into my hips and he pulled me a fraction closer, settling into a regular rhythm that sent shock waves each time through my body. As the tension began to build, I felt that familiar, awful aching inside. I wanted to be filled, that would get me where I needed so badly to be. "Please . . .?”

  “Already, baby? Don’t worry, I’ve got what you need.”

  I cried out as two thick fingers shoved themselves inside me, his mouth closing over my clit to suck. "Oh, God, oh, God." Then he curled his fingers forward and dragged them over the spot that ached the most.

  The intensity was almost frightening. Sometimes, especially when stressed or before I learned to relax with a new partner, orgasm kind of hovers, maybe about to happen, maybe not. My anxiety would spike as I could feel it slipping away. This was the complete opposite. Ecstasy rose like an inexorable wave above me. I squirmed and writhed, but I could do nothing to help or hinder it. I was a powerless small thing in the face of it, as he wrenched every possible pleasure from my body. My mouth opened to scream and then. . . .

  I came, wave after wave of bliss, I felt my body spasm around his hand, his thrusts perfectly timed to meet them. My spine bowed back, my fingers clawed the sheets to stop myself from tearing at his hair. Like any tide, it went out again. I flopped onto the bed, utterly replete, yet not quite. I felt like I'd been run over by a truck, but that fiery tingle of arousal that had seemed completely satisfied a moment ago was building again. His movements were gentler, his mouth not pulling as hard, but that didn’t make much of a difference to my sensitised flesh. He pulled away, burying his tongue into my cunt, which made me gasp. It flickered, softer yet more mobile than a cock, his fingers tugging lightly on my clit. "Gabe, Gabe . . .," I hissed.

  "That's what I was waiting for," he said, mouth moving against my skin, before pulling away and covering my body with his. "You got some lube, love? I think this is going to be a bit of a tight fit." I nodded dazedly, rolling over to open my bedside drawer. He ran kisses down my spine as I grabbed it and a condom out. "What else you got in there?" he asked, looking over my shoulder. He pulled out my vibrator and chucked it down on the bed beside us, sliding the condom on and then coating his dick in it. "I can think of a damned fine use for that later," he said with a nod of his head, "but right now. . . ." I placed my ankles on his shoulders and tried not tense up as the end of his cock touched my cunt. "Don't get worried, I'll go as slow as you need," he said. "Your cunt is swollen and pouty, all ready for me." He reached between my legs, flicking my clit with his thumb and smiling when I moaned. "That's right, we're made to fit together."

  He was right, it was a tight fit. I saw the veins pop in his forehead as he fought to maintain control, slowly forcing his way inside me. I felt a slight pinch and then God, an overwhelming sense of fullness. I had everything I needed, I couldn’t take any more, and then he began to move. I groaned as his head dragged across that sensitive spot inside me that was so hard to reach, over and over. "Oh, Go
d, oh, God, Gabe, Gabe . . ."

  "What do you need, babe?"

  "Fuck me."

  It was as if something in him broke. He pulled back and started thrusting hard inside me, pistoning in and out, his fingers cruelly pinching and tugging at my clit as if he would claw an orgasm from me. And he was. My cries became incomprehensible as his hips thrust and then. . . .

  I felt like I'd been tossed from an aeroplane, hanging there for a moment in the cold grey air before plunging down to earth.

  "God, love . . .," Gabe cried as my cunt snapped tight around him, then contracted in an impossible to follow flutter, waves of pleasure crashing through me. He fell down onto me not long afterwards. I caressed his hair as I felt his cock's spasms slow within me.

  "Was that what you were anticipating?" I asked later as we lay under the blankets, the grey of dusk approaching.

  "Honestly, I thought you’d slap my face and send me on my way," he said. He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around me. "Nothing I've ever experienced could have prepared me for this." He rested his nose against my forehead and laid a small kiss there. "You can kick me out at 4 a.m. like you said, and I won’t regret what I did one iota, but, love, don't you think there's something more happening here?"

  Yes, I agreed silently, you were sent here by a spell and my sister's revenge reading list, that's what's different. Irrespective of how you had sex beforehand, now you're compelled to have it the way I like it. I rolled over to snuggle in hard against his chest. No matter how good the sex was, this was almost as good, just that sensation of someone's arms around you, the warm, comforting weight of their body against yours. This is the golden vagina moment, I thought dimly, where the characters equate great sex and attraction with something emotional. How could anyone have such great sex with someone they aren't meant to be with?

  Except that wasn’t the case in real life. I'd had the best sex with guys who I found attractive, but weren’t that into. As the anxiety about ‘is this the one’ was off the table, I didn't have much to lose. I could be bolder, blunter, seek my own and my partner's pleasure without much thought to tomorrow. Relationships seemed to only get that way after some time.

  “And what’s got you all frowny?” he asked, with a slow smile. “You didn’t get enough from me?”

  “Dear God, no. I will never say I regret it, but I may be walking a little funny in the morning.”

  “Yeah?” he smiled

  I reached over and kissed him: because I liked the taste of cigarettes on his tongue, because it stopped him from asking me any more questions and because none of this shit was real and I could do as I liked. I decided it had been worth it, this had been the fuck of a lifetime. I could find another tenant if I had to.

  “Mmm . . . mmm . . .,” he moaned, rolling me over, so I lay on top of his body, deepening the kiss, making it last longer, harder. “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “What’s it?” I asked, pulling away to catch a breath. He just looked down his body meaningfully, pushing himself against me until I realised what he was talking about. “Again? Are you serious?”

  “What? I told you, can’t get enough of you. Just wanted another taste of that juicy little–”

  “Get on your knees,” I said.

  “What? Why?”

  “I figured turnabout is fair play.”

  “Honey, I don’t need that. I told you, just smelling you, touching you is enough for me.”

  “Seriously? What guy knocks back a free blow job?” He frowned at that, eyes flicking. He shook his head slightly and scrambled to his knees on the bed as I settled in front of him. The confusion soon cleared away the moment my mouth closed over the end of his dick.

  It was late, close to 4 a.m. We were just lying there, quiet. He’d made me stay true to my word, every time he got hard again, every time I thought I didn’t have another orgasm in me, with a few quick touches he had me ready and panting again. It was kind of scary. It was like he owned me or something. I would have been really worried if he didn’t seem to be equally affected by me. We’d fallen quiet finally, probably to the external gratefulness of Mrs Hughes beneath us on the ground floor. If she was giving me the side eye before, man did I have a rude greeting waiting for me tomorrow.

  I focussed on his hand, making long, sweeping passes along my back, smoothing my hair down, curving around my butt and then starting again. It was mesmeric, usually enough to send me to sleep, but I fought it. He was the perfect romance conundrum: kind of a cocky dick outside the bed, most receptive and responsive lover ever in it. My heart was beating just inside my mouth, making my breath come shallow and fast. Would I feel him fade away, the real Gabe sleeping safely in his bed? Would he turn on me, wondering how the fuck he got here? Right now, I didn’t care. Jez had been right, this was an opportunity of a lifetime and I was glad I’d taken it. I watched the night sky out my window; the stars twinkling their best through the light pollution of street lights and neon signs and focused on the slow rise and fall of his chest.

  14

  “Love.”

  My eyes snapped open. The first thing I realised was I’d fallen asleep, the second that it was morning and the third was Gabe the Wonder Tongue was still here. Fuck, fuck, fuck! my brain supplied helpfully. I sat bolt upright and he handed me a mug of coffee. “I made it milk with one. No idea if that’s how you liked it, but I figured you’d tell me one way or the other.”

  “You’re still here.”

  “You seemed pretty happy with the way things were going, so I took that as an invitation.”

  “But, don’t you have stuff to do?” I gestured vaguely.

  Gabe smiled at my discomfort. “Flea’s doing the shop outfit. I’m gonna be a silent partner, so the design is his bag now, though I’d like to think I have reason to drop by now and then.”

  “Right, right,” I took a sip of the coffee as my mind raced. This was not what was supposed to happen. This was a neat situation with a definite end date. The coffee was, of course, perfect. I took another sip and looked over to where he sat next to me on the bed, nursing his own cup.

  “You’re freaking out,” he said.

  “No, no . . .”

  “You’re freaking out.” He laughed, but it was in no way a joyous sound. He raked his hair back from his face and then nodded. "Been there enough times myself to know the ‘holy shit, haven’t you gone home yet’ look. Hey, it’s been . . . I’ll take a quick shower, if that’s OK with you, and get out of your hair.”

  Fuck! I’m that guy! I thought. That player guy who fucks the shit out of people and then sends them on their merry way. His eyes looked out hard into the cold morning light and he put the mug down with a clunk and left the room.

  Let him go, I said to myself, sitting on the bed. This is good, what needs to happen. We’ll barely see each other unless there’s something up with the rent. Enjoy this for what it is and let him go. Instead, I walked to the bathroom, opening the door to become enveloped in a cloud of steam. I pulled off the old t-shirt and stepped inside the cubicle, looking at his strong hands running along his body, the hard muscles in his back shifting and moving. I put a hand out, laying it lightly on his hip. He froze, turning slowly to face me, water plastering his hair over one eye.

  I was up against the tiles in the next moment, his body pressed into mine, “You’re sure about this?”

  No. What? I have no fucking idea what is going on! my brain screamed helpfully. A non-response seemed good enough as his mouth crashed down on mine.

  “When are you due at work?” he asked.

  “Half an hour.”

  “We've got time.”

  15

  “Oh ho, look what the cat dragged in!” Jez said as I hobbled into the store, alone. “Jesus, girl, what did he do to you?”

  “Are you OK? He didn’t hurt you or anything, did he?” Tess babbled. “Shit, Ash, I’m so sorry!”

  “I’m OK, not hurt, or at least only in a way that makes that John Mellencamp song make a whol
e lot of sense. I need to sit down, but I’m afraid to try."

  "Girl, deets, now," Jez said, except the door opened with a tinkle and my friend/employee and sister's jaws hit the floor. In walked Gabe, with a tray of frothy-looking coffee concoctions and a bulging paper bag sporting the logo of the yummy bakery down the street.

  "Hey," he said, looking for the first time a little unnerved. I guess if you had three women gaping at you and ignoring all of the usual social niceties, you could be forgiven for feeling uncomfortable. Yep, still nothing, except Jez’s stares were beginning to look less shocked and more exploratory. "I got you guys some breakfast,” he said in a low voice, depositing everything on the counter then wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Figured you might need something to keep your strength up," he said, his voice a delicious buzz against my ear.

  "Thanks," I said, shifting in his arms and dropping a kiss on his mouth. He seemed to relax at this, trying to deepen it a bit, then grinned when I was forced to pull away or begin making out with him in front of everyone.

  "Look, the clutch on the bike is a bit sticky," he said. “I’ve got to head over to the workshop for a bit. What time you finishing here?"

  "About five."

  "See you then. Ladies."

  They watched him saunter out, not saying a word until the door clanged shut. "You're fucking a romance novel biker," Jez said, eyes wide.

  "Yep, and I think I broke my vagina."

  "Ohhh, someone got well-ridden last night! So, was it every purple prose-y moment of awesomeness I’ve come to expect?" Jez asked.

  "It was. . . ." I threw my hands up in the air. On the one hand, I had experienced a total cliché, like I felt almost embarrassed for myself. The earth moved for me, riiight. On the other hand, it felt like something momentous had happened and I wasn't even sure how to process it.

  "And he looks into you. Why is he into you?” Tess asked.