Restless (Drunk Girl's Fantasies Short Story One) (4 page)

I look toward the exit of the club and watch as Hailie and Georgia scramble out the door stopping to wave.

Oh God. 
I groan aloud just as Gage gets in and turns the key in the ignition firing up all the cylinders, including mine. 

Most definitely mine. 

He turns to me as his arm drapes over the back of the seat.  “What was that for?”

I gesture with my chin and he looks over his shoulder.  “They’re just pleased with their supposed matchmaking skills.”  He looks at me.  “I didn’t have the heart to tell them that I didn’t need their assistance.”

“Is that so?”

He turns forward and pulls away without further comment.

“You seem so sure of yourself.”  I turn and look over at him coyly.

He slants his gaze to me.  “Determined.”  And I feel that strong sexual vibe again.

“Do I seem easy to you?”

“Hell-to-the-fuck-no.”
  He puffs out a hard breath of air slanting an amused glance my way.  “Anything but…”  He turns back to watch the road.  “I’m in the best shape of my life.  Never ran so much before I moved in across the street from you.”

My breath catches and I turn to the window and watch the city pass by.  We drive for about twenty minutes passing by tons of bars as we go, so curiosity finally gets the better of me and I ask, “Where are we going?”

“My house.”

“Your house?”  I tense.  “I thought we were going to get a drink?”

“We are,” he says.  “Just at my house and not some loud, over-crowded bar.”

My breath catches again and I hold it.

“You fine with that?”  His brow cocks.

Was I fine with that?  Seriously, I’m more than fine especially as he turns back to me stretches his arm once again across the seat his hand sliding up my neck to play with my hair.

“Breathe,” he says as we pull into his driveway. 

I slowly let out my pent-up breath.

He pulls gently on my hair garnering my full attention.  “Hey Daredevil.”  He tilts his head and leans in close.  “You fine with that?”

“I’m fine with that,” I whisper, both excited and nervous at the same time.  Boy am I fine with that.  I’ve watched his fine ass run up and down the street for nearly a year and I’m fine with that turning into more than just watching.

His hand moves and his knuckles run down my jaw, gripping my chin he turns my head so that I have no choice but to look at him.  “Good, because I’m definitely fine with that.”  He leans in and kisses me soft and gentle.  “Now let’s go have this drink.”  He winks as he steps out of the truck and comes around the front to open my door and hand me down.

***

The moment we enter the house my curiosity takes over.  I glance around taking in as much as I can before he places his hand at the small of my back and guides me to the plush couch situated in front of a large stone fireplace making sure I’m comfortable.

Walking to a large mahogany sideboard he turns back to where I’m sitting on the couch.  “Beer, wine, whiskey?”  His brow lifts.

I need whiskey.  That’s what I need.  A big giant whiskey.  I should ask for a glass of wine, but I really need a whiskey.  He keeps looking at me and I keep debating on what would be proper.  I decide I need fortification more than I need to have control of all of my faculties.  “Whiskey.”

“My kind of woman.”  His eyes twinkle.

I lean on the back of the couch, my chin laying on my hands and watch in rapt attention as he pours the amber liquid two fingers deep into cut crystal tumblers which I find fascinating.  Fascinating that a single man would actually have cut crystal tumblers for whiskey and actually know where they were in order to use them.

He walks in his loose-jointed kind of way and sits close.  Real close and hands me one of the whiskeys.  His proximity.  His heat.  His scent.  All of it adds to the giddy feelings that have been building all night and start to skitter down my spine causing goose bumps to rise on my arms and the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.  So taking a big swallow of whiskey I proceed with a less than sexy coughing fit as the liquid burns all the way down to my belly adding to my already over-heated body. 

“Easy Daredevil.”  His expression grows languid and heavy-lidded as he removes the glass from my hand placing it on a coaster near my armrest and grins.  “We’ve got all night, darlin’.”  His grin turns into a full-fledge smile and my blood heats even more.

I don’t argue with him, I just let him remove the glass from my hand.  I take that moment to look around the room.  It’s decorated exactly how you would picture a man’s home to be.  Large chocolate brown leather couch, a deep leather recliner, and a humongous flat-screen TV that takes up one whole wall.  The only thing that seems out of place for me is the well-stocked bar with crystal decanters, wine glasses, and the cut-glass crystal tumblers.  For some reason I’m floored by this.

He scoots even closer so our thighs not only touch, but practically become one.  His eyes burn into mine and he cups my jaw capturing my lips without a word.  Our tongues tangle, his hands are suddenly under my arms as I find myself twisting in the air and straddling his legs with his arms wrapped tightly around my back directly under my shoulder blades.  His mouth not leaving mine even with all the acrobatics and it’s a fabulous kiss.  Hot, wet, and fabulous.

My arms snake around his neck, my fingers curling around the back of his head threading through the shorts strands of hair at the base of his skull.  I never thought about the shape of a man’s head before and now is definitely a weird time to start doing just that as his tongue is deep in my mouth and my dripping pussy is rubbing against his jean-covered, magnificently engorged cock.  However, it’s so silky smooth I can’t help but play with the strands and ponder his perfectly shaped head.

“What are you up to, Daredevil?” His words are spoken against my lips, his tongue slides sensually against the seam of my mouth as he waits for my reply.

“You have a nice shaped head.”  I move my lips from his mouth to his jaw and run kisses down until I latch onto the tendons of his throat and lick at the rapidly beating pulse there.

I’m sucking on his neck like a starving vampire, lapping up the delicious salty taste of his skin as his hands find their way under my T-shirt.  Pushing my bra up with his dexterous fingers, I gasp as his callused roughened hands palm over my already distended nipples. 

“Oh God,” I groan against his neck, grinding against his hard body as he rolls my nipples between his forefinger and thumb.  “I don’t know you,” I moan arching away from him and pressing my breasts tighter into his palms.  “I don’t know you,” I draw out but don’t pull away.

He pushes my shirt up further.  “Lift your arms, Ashley.”

“You know my name?” I ask raising my arms as he tugs my shirt over my head and tosses it carelessly on the back of the couch.

“Yeah, Daredevil.”  His voice holds a modicum of amusement.  His lips curve in a wicked smile.  “I’ve known your name since day two of living across the street from you.”

“I didn’t know,” I whisper, my eyes softly close.  He reaches behind me unfastening my bra sliding the straps down my arms and sending it flying. 

“Now you do.”  Before he covers my breasts with his rough hands, he pulls his own T-shirt over his head exposing the black chest hair that V’s down the center of his body until it disappears beneath the waistband of his jeans. 

His hands take control, kneading my soft globes with his fingers.  Plucking and playing with my pebbled pink nipples, his eyes rapt on his task.  He latches onto one nipple, sucking it deep into his mouth and rubbing it against the roof with his tongue and I cry out sharply.  The rough, wet heat makes my head fall back.  Fucking perfect friction.  His teeth scrape softly, then scoring my flesh deeper I let out a satisfying moan.  Arching my back, I push more of my soft flesh into his mouth.  He doesn’t mind.  He takes what I’m offering.  His mouth opens wide drawing more flesh into his awaiting heat as he flicks his tongue faster and faster increasing the pressure until I can’t stand it a second longer.

My hand moves rapidly down his chest and curls into the waistband of his jeans.  I touch his fly running my fingers over the buttons that are stretched to the max with his thick cock.  I’m only able to undo the top button.  “Button fly?”

“Yep.”  His eyes are dark with desire again, but more intense.  Much more than they were at the club when I was almost naked.

“Sexy, but hard to undo,” I add, still fiddling with the buttons but not making much headway.  The backs of my fingers graze the hard bulge beneath his pants and I feel him jerk and twitch.

“Well, darlin’, let me help you with that.”  He grins, his breath coming out in soft pants.  “I would hate for you to get frustrated.”

“You’re way behind on that already, Gage,” I whisper leaning forward close to his ear.  Additional liquid trickles into my jeans as I squeeze my thighs against his sides.  “I’ve been  frustrated for eleven and a half months now.  Now get those fuckin’ jeans unbuttoned before I change my mind.”  I try to be smart, full of a lot of attitude, of spirit, but he just smirks and unbuttons his jeans in ten seconds flat. 

“Raise up, Daredevil.”

I lift up off his thighs so he can push his jeans and sexy as hell low-rider briefs down his lean hips.  His cock bobs high against his rock-hard belly and I can’t help but think that it’s waving at me in greeting.  I giggle at the thought.

My eyes fly to his and his head tilts to the side.  “What are you up to, Daredevil?”

I shake my head vigorously back and forth from side to side, no way in hell I’m telling him what I was thinking.

“Ashley,” he drawls out my name in his deep, sexy voice making my heart pound loudly.

My cheeks turn pink.   Dark pink.  Not a subtle I’m hot for you pink, but a fiery red I’m embarrassed and never going to show my face in public pink.  I shake my head again and hide my face by allowing my hair to fall forward over my shoulders intentionally shielding my face from his view.

He surprises me by placing his palm on the back of my neck and gently presses until I have no choice but to look into his eyes. 

“Ashley?”

“Fine,” I huff out.  “I was thinking your penis looked like it was waving at me when you took your pants off.”

He throws back his head and laughs.  I can feel his body moving beneath mine and his penis bouncing against my crotch. 

“Ah, darlin’.”  His hand tightens against my nape and he pushes my face close to his.  “If you only knew how cute you are.”  He takes my mouth roughly seeking and gaining entrance.  Dominating me with the masterful strokes of his tongue at the same time his hands undo my button and pulls down my zipper as far as it will go while I’m sitting on his lap tucked up close to his body.

When he raises his head, I know he means business.  The line of his jaw is tight and the muscles in his cheeks tick frantically beneath his skin.  “Take your jeans and panties off, Ashley.”  He says through gritted teeth as if it’s the most painful thing he’s ever had to do.

I know I shouldn’t, but I just can’t help myself.  “I’m not wearing any panties.”  I bite my lip and wait for a response but it doesn’t take long.

His eyes gleam as he growls out a warning.  Quickly reversing our positions he lays me flat on my back with my head cushioned on the armrest and tugs divesting me expertly of my jeans.  Butterflies swirl and flutter in my belly as he just stops and stares. His eyes flick from my head to my toes, then back to my glistening pussy.

“Jesus-fuckin’-Christ.”  He reaches down and runs his index finger over my freshly waxed pussy.  A soft sound escapes me at his touch and I’m dying to feel his stubble on my inner thighs when his mouth touches me.  “Jesus-fuckin’-Christ,” he repeats, his nostrils flaring, his warm breath shooting bolts of lightning cascading down to my toes. 

“Pole dancing requires waxing,” I barely manage to push the words past my lips.  The effort of those four words requires that I take a deep inhale and release it shakily.  I close my eyes and just feel.  Feel his heat, feel his breath,
feel his tongue. 

He looks up and I look down.  Our gazes collide hotly.  “You’re fuckin’ bare.”  He leans down, his tongue flicks out to run over the smooth skin above my slit and the cool air wafts across my newly dampened flesh building up my goose bumps and shivers.  “Damn, you feel good.”  And I guess just for good measure he takes another swipe before he raises my knees, parts my thighs, and spreads my lips wide with his long, thick fingers and smashes his face into my dripping pussy sliding his tongue across my hood, over my engorged clit and stabs it deep into my body’s eager entrance.   

“OhmyGod!” 
I cry out as he sucks and licks me like a melting Popsicle on the fourth of July.  I fall limp, but that doesn’t stop him.  He doesn’t even bother to hide that he has any other intentions than to make me come and to make me come hard.  He thrusts his tongue deep inside me, stabbing me deep as his lips suction over my turgid clit and suck, hollowing out his cheeks in the process. 

I bite the inside of my cheek and arch wildly, bucking and pressing my hot wetness into his face.  He lavishes the edges of my labia with flat tongue swipes making me cry out.  Desperate.  Desperate to come with a real life, flesh and blood man and not just any man, but
him
.   My goddamned secret fantasy for the past year.