Boys Next Door (8 page)

‘About what?’

‘Me.’

Both bra cups were peeled away and he pinched my nipples until they throbbed in time with my heart which was currently residing in my pussy. At least it felt that way.

‘I can’t. My mind likes this.’

Coop laughed again. I amused him. His mouth was tender and then rough, lazy and then intense, all along the slope of my neck, my shoulders, my collarbone. His hand found its way down the front of my leggings and when he found my bare pussy he groaned.

‘You don’t have panties on.’

‘I didn’t have time.’ I tilted my hips, wanting him to touch me.
Willing
him to touch me.

‘No time for panties?’

‘No, you scrambled my brain.’

‘So now you’re scrambling mine?’

‘Not on purpose,’ I managed to say, even as his fingers slid – slow and almost sinister-like – over the plump aroused nub of my clit. When he plunged a finger into me, I was the one to groan.

‘Ah, but you are.’ His fingers, thick and strong, pushed into me again, slower this time, dragging time out so I could almost see it stretch like taffy. I watched the curl of the mermaid’s tail as he fucked me with his fingers. He added another finger.

I moved in when he bent to kiss me, kissing him desperately as if the kiss could somehow save me from the runaway train effect of the orgasm I knew was swiftly approaching. One way or another.

Coop added a third finger, curling them just so, extracting a noise from me that was half joy, half frustration. His thumb came down on my steadily thumping clitoris and I sighed into his mouth even as the wet velvet of his tongue stroked over mine.

‘You feel really wet, Farrell. Have you been thinking bad things?’ He moved a step and I moved a step. He moved another and I followed suit. We did a weird yet perfectly logical dance toward the washing machine, his hand still buried deep in my wet and willing sex.

‘Yes. I have been pretty much been thinking bad things since I got here.’

‘I like that,’ he whispered, lips pressed to my ear so that a cold tingle raced along my skin from ear to hip.

‘You do?’

‘I do.’ He broke away to nip my throat, my collarbone, the side of my breast. His tongue danced along my skin and woke up all the tiny nerve endings. My pussy grasped – tight and greedy – around his fingers and he smiled down at me. ‘I do,’ he said again.

Coop kissed me one more time and dropped to his knees right there on the dirty cement floor, dragging my leggings down on the way. I had a babbling lunatic moment where I wondered if he’d get his pants dirty and if they’d come clean before remembering they were
work
pants, meant to get dirty.

But then his mouth touched my nether lips and followed them to the prize of my engorged clit. He took it gently between his teeth so that I held my breath. I held his shoulders and tried not to let my eyes slam shut, because I really wanted to see that pretty, pretty face eating me.

Coop pulled back and studied me, parting my nether lips, inspecting me so that I shifted nervously. He looked up at me and my mouth went dry. ‘Stand still for me.’

My hands had migrated to my belly when he’d pulled away and I swore I could feel the twirling horde of butterflies currently living in there.

‘I will,’ I said.

He smiled like he didn’t believe me and then he deliberately – moving in slow motion, I was positive – moved back to lick me. He was doing it on purpose, I knew it. He had to be. But even as I assured myself that that was the case, I had to stifle the urge to thrust my hips forward to get my pussy to his mouth in the fastest way possible.

But I managed not to.

His hands slid along my inner thighs making them literally quake thanks to his almost ghostly touch. He barely came in contact with my skin and yet I felt like my knees might buckle. And all the while, his tongue – oh, his tongue – danced over the tender swollen flesh of my pout. He drove the rigid tip from my soaked split up to my clit and back and when I hovered right there on the edge of begging, he went back up to suck me.

‘You smell good,’ he said against my inner thigh before nibbling right back up to my clit again.

His fingers drove back into me and then lazily thrust. Coop would almost – but not quite – pull his fingers free of me before surging back into me with his warm thick digits.

When I started to pant like a dog, I realised I was going to come. I had been so mesmerised by watching him that I’d forgotten to pay attention to my approaching orgasm. But now it was making quite the ruckus in my pelvis.

He kept just the tip of his tongue to me and waggled his fingers inside my pulsing cunt. ‘You seem to be getting tight, Farrell.
Tighter.
’

I tensed my entire body to try and stay still and growled, ‘Yes, I am.’

‘Like you’re going to come for me,’ he said before pressing a warm wet kiss to my pussy – covering so much of my needy flesh with his mouth it made me light-headed. His tongue found me, worked me and I started to come, feeling the quiver and shake of my body, gripping up around him snugly. Coop curled his fingers to the knot of my G-spot and that small pressure was simply too much.

I let my head fall forward, my dark hair creating a curtain, and came with a sob. Coop didn’t stop until I had sighed out every last bit of pleasure, until every single spasm had stopped.

When he stood, I finally got to move, pushing my fingers into that dark blond hair and tugging him in so I could taste him. Licking the flavour of myself off his lips. Coop cupped the back of my head, securing me. His other hand meandered up my breast and tweaked my nipple so I gasped into his open mouth.

His tongue was so warm and I could still taste the undertones of strong coffee below the taste of my own juices.

I found his pants’ button with shaking hands and tried to undo it but he grasped my hands and held them tight. I slid my hand lower to find the hard edge of his cock pressed to his pants. Squeezing his length with my fingertips I kissed him harder, licking his lips and muttering. Even I didn’t know what I was saying, that orgasm had shut my mind down. The feel of his mouth on my sex had reduced me to a babbling idiot.

‘Hush,’ he said, laughing softly. He buried his face in my hair and brushed it back to kiss my throat.

‘Undo your pants.’

‘No,’ he said.

It took me a moment. I didn’t immediately process his words. ‘What?’

‘No.’

‘Aren’t we going to –’

‘No. Not this time.’

I moved to try and drop to my knees like he had but he caught my elbows and kept me up, grinning. ‘Don’t do that.’

‘But I … I want to …’

‘I’m good.’

‘No,’ I said, getting angry. ‘I want stuff just like you want stuff. Just let me … you know,’ I said, getting suddenly shy for some asinine reason.

‘I’m good,’ he said again.

I touched him. At least he let me do
that
. I ran a finger along the curved line of his cock, trying to figure how I could possibly change this. ‘Can’t I at least see it?’

He started to say no, but I saw him reconsider. His face somehow crafty and innocent at the same time. ‘Why?’

I stroked him through his pants, feeling the jump and twitch of his hard on. He wanted me, I knew he did, this was just some … stupidity.

‘Because I think it’s big,’ I said, my voice a husky whisper that I played up as much as possible. ‘And I think you’re hot. And I want to see it. Why did you want to see me?’

‘Because you’ve been stuck in my head since yesterday and I tend to do better if I just see the object of my desire and assess the situation.’

‘But I’m not allowed to do that?’ I breathed, leaning in to kiss the slope of his neck. I could smell his aftershave, something woodsy.

I watched his big tan hands undo the button and then rip down the zipper. I found myself literally chewing my lip and holding my breath. He tugged down the front of a pair of plaid boxers and his cock sprang free – stunning and hard and flushed.

‘Am I allowed to …’ I reached for him even as I said it.

And he let me. He let me circle my loose fist around his long cock and stroke him. Coop’s jaw worked as I gripped him, like he was barely maintaining control. His eyes were unreadable in the low light but I swore I could feel his gaze on me.

I stroked him a bit faster, pushing down so that I hit the base, the side of my hand brushing his balls. He took his hand, placed it over mine, stilling my movement.

‘What?’

‘That’s enough.’

‘Please,’ I said, finally begging. I just wanted to … get him off. To see him come.

‘Why?’

I pushed the words in my head out of my mouth. ‘I want to get you off. I want to see you. I want you to come,’ I said, the last in nothing more than a desperate whisper.

‘Why?’

I stared at him, seeing the stubbornness I already knew was there.

‘Why? Because … I’m attracted to you? And you just got me off? And I’m not stingy. And for some reason I don’t think you’ll fuck me … which I don’t understand.’

Now I was confused and embarrassed and those two emotions were mingling together and turning to anger. Fast.

‘Because as
weird
as you are –’

He chuckled and I squeezed my hands, now at my sides into fists.

‘I find you somehow nice and attractive and terribly, terribly weird,’ I reiterated.

‘And –’ I stomped my foot, increasing the feelings of stupidity threefold. ‘I just thought it would be nice if you came and I could … see.’ With the final horrifying admission, I kicked the washing machine and it rattled.

He stilled me with a single touch. I looked down and away, my face hot with mortification.

‘Look at me.’

I did, having to force my eyes to go where I didn’t want them to.

‘Open your shirt again.’

My checked shirt had fallen shut over my hastily raised leggings.

I swallowed hard, watching Coop lazily jack his cock with his fist. He was much rougher than I’d have been. I watched the tattoos on his arm dance with the motion and the key inked over his hipbone jittered too.

My heartbeat had gone erratic and jumpy and I parted my shirt with shaking fingers. The cool air kissed my exposed skin as I watched him handle himself. I licked my lips. The sight of him touching himself and eyeing me that way – predatory, frightening,
hungry
– turned me on again. I was damn near restless with it.

Coop’s hand moved faster, the whispery slide of fist over dick – the small sound that bubbled up out of him before he could silence it. The intensity in his eyes and the tension in his jaw and the way he growled low in his throat and took a step toward me – all of it acted as my impetus to say, ‘Come for me, please. Come for me.’

He growled again. It was a raw, smoky sound. I felt a twitch and tightening in my cunt. I tried to ignore it.

He was closer to me now. I could feel the heat off his body and the need in his movements and the barely controlled attraction that was ricocheting between us. Invisible, but very real.

I leaned in just a bit and he growled, ‘Don’t touch me, Farrell.’

I nodded, licking my lips again and staring him in the eye. ‘I won’t. But I want you to come on me.’ I knew that had been his intention but I wanted to seal the deal. Drive the point home. I wanted it. Him. All of it.

I wiggled the tail end of my shirt and showed him even more of my bare abdomen. ‘That’s what this is for, right?’

He nodded. No words. His hand working faster, his movements much more feral.

‘So do it. I want it. Come on me. Paint me. Streak me.’ I found his eyes with mine and though the light wasn’t bright enough to see them clearly, I could feel how close he was. I finished him off. ‘Mark me.’

He tipped his head forward and the first stripe of hot cum hit my belly. Searing and sticky and exactly what I wanted. I clenched my pussy tight and felt a jolt of pleasure – almost but not quite – a tiny orgasm. Riding out the pleasure and the excitement of Coop’s release.

‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ he muttered, head down, hand ringing one more spurt out of his cock.

I rushed forward and kissed him before he could stop me. He opened his mouth to me and I ruched up his T-shirt and pressed my sticky warm belly to his belly and he growled, manacling me in the band of his arms so that I couldn’t move away.

‘Why won’t you fuck me?’ I demanded.

He scooped me up and dropped my ass on the washing machine. Coop crowded in-between my thighs and forced my hands down by my hips and kissed me harder. He nipped my lower lip so I gasped, and said softly, ‘Because you’re not ready yet.’

‘When will I be ready?’

‘When you are,’ he said and moved away from me. Leaving me flushed and needy and frustrated beyond belief.

He started up the steps and I grabbed a paper towel to wipe off my belly. Then I hurried after him.

‘What do you mean ready? Ready to
handle
it?’ I asked, trying very hard not to sound as annoyed as I was.

In the kitchen, he grabbed what was surely his cold coffee and took a swig. When he levelled his gaze at me, Coop said, ‘You could say that.’

‘Modest much?’

‘I just want you to know what you’re getting into.’

‘Meaning?’ I crossed my arms.

‘Meaning, I can be possessive and sort of irrational and I can be an asshole.’

‘You don’t say.’ This earned me a genuine smile. ‘Who said I want anything that would allow you to be possessive. With
anyone
?’ I clarified, thinking of devilish Deke.

‘Touché.’

‘Bleh,’ I said. And then realising I said that aloud, I laughed at myself.

‘I just would like us to get to know each other a bit better before we go further.’

Was I hearing him right? Was this the
Twilight Zone
? Mr Tattooed and Bossy and Gruff was being … sensitive?

‘So sticky assaults in the basement are okay, though?’

‘Are you disappointed?’

My face coloured so fast I felt like I’d walked into an oven. That orgasm had made me feel like I might fold up on myself and drop to my ass on the floor. Had he not been steadying me. ‘No,’ I whispered.