F*cking Awkward (25 page)

Grady’s shorts were tented as he adjusted his position, lowering down to sit on the edge of the chair near her hips. Starting at the strings keeping her tiny bottoms on, he eased his hands up her sides more firmly this time, no longer hesitant in the way his fingers rubbed over her boobs. He continued to follow the line of her body, leaning over her to run his palms up her arms until he reached her elbows, his chest almost pressed to her back in the process.

It looked like he might have brushed her ear with his lips, but I couldn’t be sure, and with her ass practically under my hands, I was a bit distracted. I couldn’t resist. I drifted higher in my own strokes, touching the parts of her butt exposed by her swimsuit, first with just sweeps of my thumb, but then with my whole hand. By the time I was cupping both sweet cheeks, any pretense of rubbing in sunscreen was gone and I was full-on fondling her, squeezing her generous flesh and letting it fill my palms.

I skimmed beneath the ties at her waist, gripping her hips and then brought my hands inward and down, touching the rest of her that was still hidden beneath the fabric, molding her curves.

She groaned, and I looked up to see Grady’s hands had slipped partly beneath her, no doubt hunting for her nipples, and his lips trailing down the back of her neck.

I barely held back my own sound when her ass pressed up into my hands and wiggled, silently begging for more.

I’d touched a girl before. Eaten a handful of pussies on chicks too shy to make a sound and too timid to tell me what they liked. What I hadn’t done yet was slide deep between a pair of thighs and hit a homerun. And, damn, if my thoughts weren’t racing there now, wondering what it’d be like to have these silky legs wrapped around my hips while I was plunging to the hilt inside of her.

Sparing a glance up, I saw Grady had left timid in the rearview mirror and was speeding ahead past innocence straight into downright dirty. His mouth covered hers and flashes of tongue peeked from beneath their hungry lips. She was balancing on her elbows and forearms now, her swollen tits pressed between them and captured in Grady’s roving hands.

Recognizing opportunity when it fell in my literal lap, I released the gold strings hiding the promised land from me and whipped Melissa’s bikini bottoms somewhere over my head.

Then, going for broke, I nudged Grady until he broke off the kiss with a barely concealed growl of annoyance and glared at me. Grabbing the curve of her hips, I started to twist her on the chaise, wanting her on her back. To
see
her in all her glory. Grady picked up on my plan, and within seconds, she was flipped, her small hands already reaching for his hair and pulling him back down and her legs spread wide for my inspection.

I stared, my heart beating so hard I was surprised it wasn’t audible, and let my eyes drink in the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in all my sixteen years.

Her bare pussy, already slick with arousal, bloomed before me, beckoning me closer, and I wasn’t sure which part of me to touch her with first—lips, tongue, or raging cock. But when I took a deep breath and her musky scent mixed with the salt air, I couldn’t wait any longer to steal a taste.

I dove with less grace than I cared to admit, running the flat of my tongue up her wet slit as I pulled her thighs over my shoulders. What I lacked in finesse I made up for in eagerness. Nuzzling apart her folds with my nose, I pulled her throbbing clit between my lips, teasing the hidden treasure with the tip of my tongue. Light, soft strokes at first that were rewarded with her hips pressing closer and grinding against my face. Taking the hint, I sucked harder and slipped a finger into her warm opening, gliding deep until I was knuckle deep.

A groan—not mine—filled the air and my cock was so hard, it could’ve hammered nails.

I wrangled with the waistband of my shorts, shoving the flimsy nylon over my narrow hips until they fell to the concrete patio beneath me.

Fisting my eager dick with one hand, I ate at her sweetness, prolonging the motions that made her buck and quickly moving past the ones that didn’t elicit a response. She liked short, fast strokes against her clit and long, slow licks up her center. She really liked it when I curled the finger I had inside of her, massaging that spot against her front wall.

My eyes were closed and every one of my senses was focused on the woman beneath me, making my every forbidden babysitter fantasy come true. The foot slapping against my face caught me off guard—tearing me roughly from my mission. And somehow, for one incredibly weird second, I had Grady’s toe caught in my mouth, where just a moment ago I’d been sucking Melissa’s sweet clit.

Blinking against the pain in my cheekbone, I twisted my neck in time to see Grady straddle Melissa’s waist, his knees by her shoulders and his legs along her curvy sides. When his shorts dipped extra low and I caught a brief glimpse of my best friend’s asshole, I made a guess about what was happening in front of me and then immediately pushed the image from my mind.

Maybe it was wrong to pretend that Melissa only existed from the waist down, but that long stretch from her hips to her legs were the beginning and end of my world right then. And her gorgeous, pink pussy was the sun, searing me with its wet heat.

The kick in the face was the wake-up call I needed. This beautiful creature was going to snap back to reality—and probably soon—and my chances were limited.

Surging to my knees, I bent her legs and pressed them against Grady’s back, effectively pushing him deeper into her mouth if the curse he just shouted and the muffled squeal from beneath him was any indication.

Lining up the head of my cock with the junction of her thighs, I rubbed against her, coating myself with her slickness.

And then, too impatient to wait any longer, I pushed inside.

It was everything.

It was more.

I was a man, and I wanted to roar with the primitiveness that every male probably felt the first time he thrust deep into the soft welcome of a woman.

My hips bucked, no real rhyme of rhythm to their pattern, just a desire to feel every warm inch of her squeezing my cock tight. I wrapped her legs around my hips, and when her heels dug into the top of my ass, I felt strong enough to crush every rock in that pile to dust with my bare hands.

In front of me, Grady’s hips began to jackhammer, his breath a loud, uneven pant that signaled his race was nearing the finish line.

Spurred on by the sounds and my own desperation, I pumped harder, my balls slapping against her sweet ass with every downward pump.

Trying to remember that I was raised a gentleman, I slid a hand between us, my thumb finding her hot little button and pressing firmly in tight circles, giving her the friction I knew she needed to tumble over the edge and burn.

Grady roared.

She screamed.

I jerked back at the last second, some tiny thread of sanity reminding me that I was bareback, and fisted my angry cock, streams of my release shooting forward... and coating Grady’s back in milky stripes.

One, two, three, and then the last one just kind of dribbled over my own fingers and onto her thigh.

Shuddering with the intensity of my release, I sagged forward, my hand reflexively squeezing one warm ass cheek in appreciation.

I was no longer a virgin. And I’d never forget this moment—or her.

But, the sight of Grady climbing off of her, cock only half-softened and hanging between his thighs in the front, my spunk dripping down his ass in the back…

It was four days before the sunburn on the pale skin of my butt faded.

It was weeks before I could look him in the eye.

But it was the best afternoon of my sixteen-year-old life, the stuff legends were made of.

And we never, ever spoke of it again.

***
D
isclosure
: Age of consent in South Carolina is 16. No teenagers were harmed in the writing of this story because they’re FICTIONAL.
Want more of West and Grady? Check out the Water’s Edge series – blurbs and purchase links available at
www.stacykestwick.com
.

S
ince the beginning
, my relationship with Riley has been a whirlwind. When he first returned home from his deployment, things were different, but we’ve learned how to live with one another and memorized each other’s routines. Unfortunately, our sex life has begun to turn stagnant. Where we were once all heat and passion and fire, now, it’s a couple of grunts, some slight whimpers here and there, and ten minutes tops, a couple of nights a week.

If I’m lucky.

It’s boring.

Tonight, I’m changing things up a bit.

“Babe?” Riley shouts down the hallway.

“In here,” I answer, yelling back.

These changes have eroded our relationship and the way I view myself. Never before have I lacked confidence in how I look and feel in my own body. What I used to see in the mirror is gone because his actions in the bedroom have led me to wonder what it is he sees in me.

Am I still enough?

In his eyes, am I still gorgeous?

Do I do it for him?

Perspiration beads on the back of my neck as I lay here. My eyes scan the room, and I cringe at what I went through to get to where I am now. Light shines through a small hole in one of the curtain panels from where I lit a candle. A burnt smell mixes with the tropical air freshener I sprayed. My nose scrunches at the pungent aroma.

I’m nervous, so nervous. In fact, my stomach is doing flips. I feel like I might vomit. It doesn’t help that a crick is forming in the side of my neck. My upper back aches from trying to maintain this provocative pose, and my right arm has been numb for quite some time. I could change positions, but this one highlights the fullness of my breasts and the dip in my waist, and doesn’t showcase the extra ten pounds I’ve gained that I swear has gone straight to my ass and thighs.

Cosmopolitan Magazine
lists this pose as one of the sexiest. I think they’re full of shit. Just like the woman at the lingerie boutique. How she talked me into this little red, see-through, lacey number is beyond me. The front is simple and straightforward, yet very sexy. The matching red G-string cuts into my crack because it’s one-size-doesn’t-fit-all. Strings stretch across my back, down my ribs, and around my ass cheeks in a pattern I can’t begin to describe. The tight, dainty material is so tight I’m sure there are indentions in the tops of my shoulders.

The thirty minutes it took me to get into it and a bruised hip from when I fell are the only reasons I’m still wearing the damn thing. I couldn’t be more uncomfortable. Because not only is sweat rolling down my neck and spine, my body is about to go into muscular failure.

Could I be any more self-conscience right now?

A gasp pulls me from my rambling thoughts. My eyes snap to the doorway of our bedroom.

The green flight suit, sleeves rolled to his elbows, aviators hanging on the front of his uniform, brings me right back to the first time I saw him. His blond hair is cropped close to his scalp on the side and back, and the top is just long enough to run my fingers through. I nibble the corner of my lip as my eyes lock onto his cerulean ones. My heart pounds a faster beat as desire fills his eyes. In this moment, I don’t think I have ever loved him so much.

“Hey there, stud,” I attempt to lower my voice, hoping to sound seductive as I quote one of our favorite movies,
Grease
. Instead, my voice cracks, and I croak out the words.

Riley’s jaw ticks, and one of his eyebrow’s arches. He’s trying not to smile. “Hey baby. What’s going on?” He nods at the candles and me sprawled on the bed.

“Nothing.” I hitch a shoulder in a shrug. “Can’t a woman surprise her man,” I grunt when I push with my numb arm. It gives way under my weight. I fall, face first into the comforter. The down bedding swallows the rest of my statement, muffling it, “by … dooin … som … speial.” Immediately, the numbness begins to dissipate. It tingles and burns, so I clench and unclench my fingers and shake away the irritating sensation. Using my other arm, I push myself up to repeat what I’ve just said. “By doing something special?” I huff.

Riley sighs and breaches the threshold to our room. I lift myself up to my knees only to sit back on my heels. He takes a seat on the bed. Gingerly, the back of his hand caresses my cheek.

“What’s really going on, babe?” he asks, softly.

I gnaw the inside of my cheek and avert my eyes from his penetrating stare. After a moment of silence, I glance back at him and pull his aviators free. I inch down the zipper of his flight suit, hoping he’ll get what I’m silently saying. With curious eyes, he watches me. When the zipper meets its end, my hands settle between the fabric and his shoulders. I push back the coarse, woven material. Riley helps me by shrugging out of it. I lift up onto my knees as he stands.

You can do this
. I take a deep breath. “Tell me what you want?” I ask, my voice quiet and meek.

Down to his briefs and undershirt, he tilts his head to the side. For a second, he stares at me, and then a wicked smirk transforms his features. “Lie back on the bed. Keep your eyes on me while you do it.” The demand rolls off his tongue like he’s been waiting for this moment.

Sensually, I sit back and attempt to slide my feet out from under me. One gets stuck, and I kick it out. The top connects with Riley’s knee. Hard. I pull my foot back as heat races up my neck to my face. Embarrassment coats my skin with a thick layer of sweat. I curl in on myself. Before I have the chance to get off the bed and die in peace, Riley catches my chin.

“Lie. Back. On. The. Bed.”

My breath catches in my throat as he lays a soft encouraging kiss on my lips. I do as he says. My hopes of being sexy are long gone. With that knowledge, I decided to let him run the show from here on out.

“You are so fucking sexy, like this, laid out on our bed, waiting for me to come home.”

“Yeah?” I question.

He lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. His thumbs dip beneath the elastic of his briefs, and he glides them down his powerful, sculpted thighs. As my gaze travels his body, my mouth turns as dry as the Sahara Desert. His perfectly toned body makes me want to leap off the bed and have my wicked way with him. The love and adoration shining in his eyes keeps me rooted in place. He is enjoying this.

“Is this one of your fantasies?” The question rolls off my tongue before I think about what it is I’m saying.

“Babe, I have many fantasies, and you are the star in all of them.” He climbs on the bed and hovers over me.

“Is dominating me one of them?”

He shakes his head at my question. I lift my arms to wrap around his neck, but he pulls back and out of my reach.

“No. I like that you’re an active participant when it comes to us in the bed, but I have been wanting to try something.”

“What?” I bite down on the corner of my lip as I wait for him to answer.

“I want to watch you writhe in pleasure as I poor hot wax all over your beautiful body.”

“Wax?” I breathe out.

“What do you think? This is only something that will work if you trust me completely.”

“I trust you.”

“Good. Now with that said, as much as I love this,” the tips of his fingers skim over the lacey material, “it has got to go.” As the last word leaves his lips, a tearing sound causes me to gasp.

I look down at his hands and see the bottom half of my lingerie, – albeit uncomfortable lingerie, but lingerie nonetheless – fall to the sides of my body, torn completely in two. “Well, now it won’t strangle me while trying to get out of it.” Though I feel like I should be mad, I laugh.

Riley’s eyes narrow in confusion. I roll to the side to let him see the marks left by the devilish contraption. When I lay back down, a scandalous grin transforms his features.

“I could use this for rope play.”

A boisterous laugh escapes me. “One thing at a time babe.” I reach up and cup his cheek. “I love you, you know.”

He nods once before bringing his mouth down on mine. The kiss is slow and sensual, restrained.

“Don’t hold back on me. Not tonight,” I murmur around our fused lips.

As though something inside him snaps, his body falls on mine. My legs wrap around his waist. He grinds into me and I groan. His hands go to my breasts, kneading the soft tissue. Each time his grip gets stronger and stronger. The sting of pain turns to pleasure.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he groans into my neck.

Goosebumps coat my sweat-slicked skin at his words. In the most unexpected move, he flips me to my stomach. My heartbeat soars. Adrenaline surges through me leaving trails of fire in its wake. I rock my hips backward. Riley grips my waist in an unyielding clasp.

“Do. Not. Move.” His voice sounds like his teeth are clenched and grounds out the words.

My eyes pop open and fear freezes me. “What’s happened?” I ask, breathless.

“For the love of God, babe, don’t move.” A twinge of panic laces his tone.

“What? Why?” I twist my head to look at him over my shoulder—

“Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Argh,” he squeaks. “Don’t fucking move, Kelsey!”

“Then tell me what in the hell is going on,” I shout.

He breathes out a labored grunt. “When I flipped you over, my shit got caught in the strings of your outfit.” His breaths sound like he’s been taking a Lamaze class.

As soon as his words register, my eyes widen, and I clamp down the urge to laugh. “How in the fuck did your dick get wrapped in the strings?”

“It’s not
wrapped.
It’s knotted up,” he growls out.

“What do you want me to do?” I whisper.

“Just hold still and let me figure this out.”

The strings and his fingers move against my skin, and a thought hits me.

“You know if you tore the straps over my shoulders, I could slip out from underneath you and then help release you.”

“Babe,” he huffs. “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying. Between the momentum that I used to thrust forward, slipping underneath your body, the friction against the bed, and flipping you over, my dick is literally knotted up in the material. My hands are fucking shaking while I try to undo what I’ve done.”

“What does it look like?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

“Are you serious?”

“You didn’t break it did you?” Fighting not to giggle is hard.

“Fuck no, I didn’t break my dick?” He groans.

My body vibrates with pent up amusement as I try to hold as still as possible.

“Are you laughing right now?” he growls.

“I was just thinking you can check ‘rope play’ off your list now.” My laugh grows louder and harder. A loud thwack echoes throughout our room. Stinging pain bites my ass cheek. The sensation causes me to lurch forward, and Riley groans and gasps.

“Baby,” he pleads.

“Then don’t smack my ass,” I retort.

“Baby, please don’t move.” He sounds like he’s going to hyperventilate.

“Do you need a paper bag?” I joke.

“Baaaabbbbyyyy, pleeeaaase. Don’t be a smartass,” he growls.

“I’m sorry tonight turned out like this.” I drop down to my elbows and let him work.

“Me too.”

“I just wanted to mix things up a bit. Since you’ve come home, I kind of feel like we’ve lost our spark.” My fingers skate back and forth across the duvet.

“Our spark?” he asks. “What we have is so much more than a spark.” His sigh of relief brushes my shoulder. Strong arms bind around my waist, pulling me back against his solid chest. “We have love, babe. I agree, we can and should spice things up, but I love making love to you. Never doubt that. I don’t need all of the kinky shit to have something spectacular. I just need you.”

My heart melts at his words.

“Are you okay?”

The friction of his day old stubble snags my hair as he nods. “I will be, but you should know if you ever buy anything with cordage again, I’ll cut it up.”

I chuckle. “Point taken.” I wiggle my ass against him and whisper, “Do you think you’re up to... well, you know.”

He groans in my ear. “Always. Wanna try anal?”

I laugh. I lean back against his shoulder and look up at him. “I think we’ve had enough awkwardness for the night. Let’s just make love.”

“Agreed.” He winks and smiles.

R
iley and Kelsey
are from the SMOLDERING SERIES. If you want more from them, please check out my website for links to Amazon. Thank you so much for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed it.

Tiffany is an Army wife and mother of two with an obsession for the written word. Since she was a child, she has always dabbled in writing. One day Tiffany decided to put pen to paper and never looked back. Writing isn't something she does just for fun. It's something she lives and breathes. Smoldering was a book she wrote in 13 days. Everyone thought she was crazy, but since she’s published, it has made her an International Bestseller. When she’s not writing you can find her lost in the imaginary world of other authors’ books or outdoors with her family.

F
or news
about previous and future works and ways to contact me please visit my website.