Good Girl Gone Page 11

  “Do it some more,” I breathe against his lips.

  He grips my hips tightly and pulls me toward him, and he slides slowly inside. I feel like I’m being stretched tight, like he’ll never fit. But he does. He fills me up and I let him take up all the space inside me. I’m full of him and it’s not terrible. It’s actually pretty fabulous.

  “You feel good inside me,” I tell him. I’m giddy with the knowledge that he’s inside me and I’m not hurting and he’s filling me up inside and my heart is overflowing with gratitude and…and I need to move. “Is it okay if I move?”

  He groans. “I’m afraid I’ll come if you do,” he warns.

  “Isn’t that the point?”

  He laughs and his dick bobs inside me.

  “Oh!”

  “Put your hands on my shoulders,” he says. “And sit back just a little.”

  He holds my hips and adjusts my bottom, and I look down to see the spot where we’re joined. I want to see more. I take my hands off his shoulders and brace myself on his knees, with my arms behind me. “Is this okay?” I ask.

  I can see the pale-colored condom disappearing inside me. Then I rock my hips and I see it come back out. “Jesus,” he moans. But he doesn’t take his eyes off the spot where we’re joined.

  “What do I do?” I’ve never done this before. Not on purpose.

  He lifts my bottom in his hands. “I’m still figuring this out too,” he says. He pulls me toward him, holding nothing but my ass cheeks in his tight grip.

  “Oh, that feels really good,” I tell him.

  He smiles. “Yes, it does.”

  My lower lips are parted, swallowing him over and over as he moves me back and forth. I help by rocking my hips in time with his movements and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Holy shit,” he says. He stops moving me. “Be still for a second.”

  He lifts his hand and starts to massage my clit with the pad of his thumb. I didn’t think it could get any better, but it just did. “Can I move while you do that?”

  “Maybe,” he croaks. He’s intent on his task, and his thumb is quickly taking me higher and higher, and I feel like I did when he gave me oral in the bathtub, like I’m going to come apart around him.

  “I want to come with you inside me,” I tell him. I know I sound stupid, but I don’t care. I’m frantically reaching for that orgasm, and it’s just barely outside of my reach.

  “Your pussy feels so good,” he moans. “So hot. So wet. Don’t stop. God, please don’t stop.”

  I cry out when I come. Waves of sensation crash over me, and he watches my face as I come on his dick while it’s deep inside me. His breaths are quick and hot, and he moans as I finish.

  He scoops me up and pulls me against him so that we’re flesh to flesh. Then he lifts and lowers me quickly once, twice, three times, and he grunts in my ear. “I’m coming,” he says. His dick grows even larger and he pulses inside me. “God, I’m coming so hard.”

  I collapse against his chest, and press my face into his neck, trying to catch my breath. He holds me close to him, his hand sweeping up and down my back. I feel a laugh brewing inside me, and I try to hold it in.

  He sets me back. “Are you crying?” he asks. “Oh, God, did I hurt you?” He pushes my hair back and stares into my face, thoroughly confused.

  “You didn’t hurt me,” I tell him. “I promise.” Then I snicker and he slides out of me. I feel empty all of a sudden, but it’s okay because I’m a little sore. “I’m just…happy.” I try to explain, but I can’t. It was perfect. I snicker again.

  “Just what a man wants. For his girlfriend to laugh after sex.” He snorts out a laugh, himself. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I get off his lap, a little stiff.

  “Want to take a bath with me?”

  I nod. I’m feeling loose and lax and sated and am so damn happy, I’d do just about anything he wanted right now.

  He pats my bottom and I get off of him, slightly ashamed of my nakedness when I realize he’s still wearing a shirt and his jeans didn’t get pushed down past his thighs.

  As I run the bathwater, he disposes of the condom and comes to join me.

  A thought hits me as he climbs into the tub and I sink into his waiting embrace. Did he just call me his girlfriend?

  Josh

  Star is stiff in my arms. She was putty in my hands when I was inside her, but now she’s stiff as a board. Did I hurt her? Did I do something wrong? Should I have waited? “I’m sorry,” I blurt out.

  “For what?” she whispers, her lips against my skin.

  “I should have waited until you were ready.” I take her face in my hands and search her eyes. Is she all right?

  “I was ready,” she tells me. She lifts her head and sucks in a breath. “Did I hurt you?” She covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God, I was all over your lap, with all my weight on you. I hurt something, didn’t I? I should have let you take me to bed.”

  I chuckle. I cough into my fist, trying to contain the laughter, but it’s hard. “You didn’t hurt me, Star,” I tell her. She relaxes back into me.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I promise.” I kiss her forehead. “That was your first time?” I ask quietly.

  “Well, aside from…” Her voice trails off.

  “That doesn’t count.”

  “Then yes, that was my first time.” She sits up again. “Wait, has there been anyone for you since Lilly?”

  I lift her hand to my lips. “No.” I kiss her fingertips one by one. “She was my first and my only. Until you.”

  Star settles into me. “She looked really happy today.”

  I nod, and her hair tickles the bottom of my chin. “She did.” My gut clenches. “I’m sorry I asked you for so much when we got back here. I should have waited.”

  “Did you enjoy it?” she asks quietly.

  “You know I did.” I smile, even though I know she’s not looking at my face.

  “Then stop apologizing. I enjoyed it too.” She runs her fingers through the hair on my chest.

  “I don’t want you to feel used.”

  “Well,” she says, her tone full of saucy confrontation, “I totally admit to using you and I enjoyed every second of it.” She loses the playful tone. “Were you worried? About what it would be like since you can’t use your legs?”

  God, I was terrified. “A little,” I admit. “It just means you had to do more work. I wish that part was different.” I wince inwardly. I’ve worried about that since I met her. Would I be able to thrust? The answer is no.

  She picks up a bottle of shampoo and squirts some into her hand. Then she starts to lather my hair, her fingertips and nails abrading my scalp. I relax against the back of the tub and let her take care of me. I haven’t had anyone to take care of me in so long that my first impulse is to shove her away and do it myself. But it feels good to have someone care for me. I could get used to this.

  “Is it because I don’t threaten you?” I ask.

  She stops massaging my scalp. “What?”

  “I can’t actually push myself inside you. Not in the traditional sense. Is that why you picked me? Because I’m not a threat?”

  She picks up the handheld sprayer and directs it at my face. “No, doofus,” she says. “It’s because you’re handsome and kind and considerate and you brought me with you on this trip.”

  I grab the wand so I can breathe and direct it away from me. “So you were just showing thanks?”

  She scrunches up her face and scoots to the other end of the tub, where she proceeds to wash and rinse her hair. “It was because I like you,” she says, and then she gets out of the tub entirely. She walks out of the room.

  I linger for a minute in the hot water, wishing I hadn’t asked. Because she just made me hopeful that there’s more between us than chance and gratitude.

  When I go back out into the bedroom, she’s not there. Wind stirs the curtains at the sliding glass door, and I realize she’s on the
balcony. I can hear her talking to someone. She’s on the phone?

  I know I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but I have to. I push closer to the door so I can hear her.

  She laughs. “It was fucking huge, Peck,” she says. “Like, monstrous. I’m going to be sore for days.”

  She pauses, like she’s listening. When she starts to talk again, there are no jokes or innuendos in her tone. “Yeah, it was good. He was kind. Caring. Hot. He kind of took over my body and put me where he wanted me to be. And he let me be on top. Then he held on to my hips and made me come like crazy with his wicked awesome thumb.”

  My cheeks heat, but a grin pulls at the corners of my lips at the same time. I shake my head. Do women always talk like this? Or just these women?

  “I like him. A lot,” she says, her voice wistful. “I don’t know… Tomorrow, I think? I don’t know what happens next... Hey, Peck,” she says. She waits a beat. “I really like him. I shouldn’t, right?”

  No, you should. You totally should. I hope she does.

  “I know,” she says. “I’m being careful.”

  I doubt she’s talking about condoms. I think she’s talking about her heart.

  “Hey!” she cries. “I came before he did. Is that normal?”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

  “Really? So that was okay?”

  I push away from the door and put on some pajama pants.

  I give her some privacy, even though I want to listen in. She’s looking for validation and trying to get answers. I assume her past is the reason why. But this may just be something that women do. I have no idea.

  She opens the door and comes back in. She glances sheepishly at me. “Peck,” she says. “Checking up on me.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Like you didn’t just hear every word.” But she’s smiling, so I don’t think she minds.

  “You could talk to me about all those questions.”

  She waves a breezy hand in the air. “I actually just wanted to brag a little.” Her cheeks color. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  I shrug. “I suppose if you have to tell someone I got mad skills in the sack, I can stand it.”

  She giggles and picks up a room service menu. “I’m starving.”

  I roll over next to her so that I can look at it with her. I pick out a burger and so does she, and we call for room service.

  “So, it makes me really happy that you came before I did, and that I didn’t hurt you or scare you or make you feel funny, and I’m stoked that you enjoyed it enough to tell Peck about it.” I pull her down into my lap. “If I have to be honest, I was scared senseless that I wouldn’t be able to do any of it right. It has been a long time and my body was different the last time I did it.” I heave out a breath. “There. That’s better.”

  She grins at me. “I like you very much.”

  I’m glad she does. Because if I’m not already in love with her, I’m going to be on my way there very soon. I know it has only been days. But don’t all great loves start that way?

  ***

  After we’ve eaten dinner and watched a movie, I roll onto my side and pull her against me. She’s on her back. I lift the edge of her shirt and she covers my hand with hers. “Me touching you here bothers you, doesn’t it?” I ask her.

  She takes a deep breath and squeezes her eyes shut. “When I was there, in the foster home, he used to come into my room. My foster mother thought he was coming into my room to tuck me in, and she would make a big deal about sending him to me after my bath. He would start by lifting the edge of my shirt, and then he would go higher. He would say very quietly, ‘Be a good girl now,’ as he touched me. ‘Be a good girl and don’t make noise or we’ll make Mommy really mad.’ ”

  I freeze. A red haze clouds the corners of my vision. I pull my hand from under her shirt. “I’ll never touch you there again.”

  But she takes my hand in hers, lifts her shirt and puts my palm flat between her boobs. “I don’t mind it when you do it. But I have to get used to it. So be gentle and slow and I’ll tell you if something is bothering me.” She tilts her head so she can look into my eyes. “Okay?” she prompts.

  “Okay,” I say quietly. I drag my fingertips beneath her boobs, tracing the curve of her breast.

  “That feels really nice,” she tells me. She pulls her lower lip between her teeth. Her nipples pebble against the thin fabric of her T-shirt.

  “Can I pull your shirt up?” I ask, and I nuzzle the side of her cheek with the tip of my nose. She grins.

  “You don’t have to ask. I’ll tell you if you do something I don’t like.” She turns her head and kisses me really quickly. “I like replacing the bad memories with good ones. So keep going.”

  I lift her T-shirt over her naked boobs, and she closes her eyes tightly. “So fucking pretty,” I tell her. She’s like softness and steel, in a pretty, pretty package.

  I bend my head and take her nipple into my mouth, and she makes a mewling noise right by my ear. Her nipples are small and pert, not much more than puffy little tips to her alabaster pillows.

  I lift my head when she’s wiggling under me and ask, “Are you sore?”

  She moves her bottom. “A little.” But she’s smiling. “Why? What did you have in mind?” She lays a hand over her mouth in feigned surprise. “Why, Josh!” she cries. “Did you want to fuck me again?”

  I hook my fingertips in her panties and pull them down. “Why, yes, Star, I’d love to.”

  She giggles. “Do you want to roll over so I can get on top?” She looks at me expectantly.

  “No.” I roll over and I drag my legs over so that I’m resting between her thighs. “I want to try it this way. Okay?” I look into her face.

  “Okay,” she whispers.

  “Besides, I want to fuck you. I mean, I really like it when you fuck me, but I’d like to fuck you occasionally, if you don’t mind.”

  “You silver-tongued devil,” she says. I reach beneath the pillow and pull out the condom I stuffed under there earlier. But then I realize I can’t put it on and hold myself up at the same time. “Umm…” I arch my brow at her.

  “Oh,” she cries. She takes it from me and rips it open with her teeth.

  “That is so hot,” I growl.

  “I do try.” She reaches down between us and with a few grunts and fumbles, she rolls the condom down my length. I’m ready to come from just that, but I am determined to hold out. “Is this right?” She gives my dick a squeeze.

  “I want to fuck you.”

  “Good girls don’t fuck,” she says. “They make love.”

  “Then I am really, really glad that you are not a good girl.” I sink inside her. I can’t thrust with my hips, but my arms are strong. “Take me deeper,” I tell her. She tips her hips and I sink all the way inside. “God, you feel so good.”

  I feel strong and powerful inside her like this. She’s so soft and warm beneath me, and she’s letting me fumble through this as I find a rhythm. Her hips arch to meet my lunges, and she pushes her palms against the headboard so she can meet me, making each lunge harder.

  I lean my head against her shoulder, trying to hold back. “I have to stop or I’m going to come,” I warn. There’s something about the power of this position, the way she feels under me, and I’m struggling not to shoot my load too soon. “God, Star.”

  “Come, Josh,” she says.

  “But you haven’t,” I protest. She hasn’t gotten off, and I’m not going to be that guy.

  “Fuck my pussy, Josh.” Her hands grip my ass cheeks. I can feel that. “God, you’re so hard,” she says. I think she’s trying to make me come even quicker.

  “Not yet,” I say, and I push up a little, changing the angle ever so slightly. She cries out. “There we go,” I mumble happily.

  She makes noises under me and my hips slap into the cradle of hers. She lifts her feet and wraps her legs around my back, and then she cries out. It’s
not like the clitoral orgasm I gave her earlier, but I know it feels good to her when her pussy clamps down around me and she tenses. She suddenly gets really wet, and I slip and slide through my orgasm, coming in the condom deep inside her. “God, Star.” I moan. “I fucking love the way you feel.”

  I feel like my balls are trying to climb out my throat as I finish, grunting in her ear. I kiss her cheek and pull out. “You naughty girl,” I tease. “You were trying to make me lose my shit.”

  “Do you want me to take care of that?” she asks, pointing toward my junk.

  “Could you get a wet washcloth?”

  She hops up when I roll off of her, and goes into the bathroom. She comes back and holds out a trashcan, where I toss the used condom. Then she gives me the washcloth and I clean up.

  She’s still wearing one of my shirts, and her ass is bare. She rolls onto her belly and I push the shirt up, rubbing her ass cheeks as I wonder at how lucky I was to find her. “That feels nice,” she says.

  “You deserve nice,” I tell her. “Fuck, you deserve flowers and romance and shit. I’m a dumbass.” I want to knock my forehead with my fist, but my hands are full of Star’s ass.

  “I like what we’re doing,” she says quietly.

  My hands stop. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I like it a lot. Don’t change a thing.” She giggles. “But next time, if you want to lick my pussy for a little while, I won’t complain.” She buries her face in the pillow.

  I laugh. “I like a woman who knows what she wants.”

  “Any woman who knows what she wants?”

  “I think it’s just you, Star.” I bend and bite her ass cheek. She squeals and tries to scoot away from me. I grab her and hold her still. “I know it’s just you,” I tell her quietly. “You. I like you.”

  I like her a lot. So much that it scares the holy fuck out of me.

  She must like hearing it, because she rolls over and pulls me into her arms. “I like you too, Josh.”

  My heart is full, my dick is hard, and I have a woman I like more than I know what to do with. Something is going to go wrong. I’m bracing for the jolt.