A Graceful Mess Page 9

  That was a rude awakening.

  I knew then that I would take up my father’s offer to move to Iowa. He had been pestering me for months, saying he wanted to open up a second site. When Carson decided to go to school here, it became official. He just didn’t know I would decide to run it, not until I broke up with Kristy. I couldn’t get out of Alabama fast enough, and I swore that the next time, if there ever was one, I would be as emotionally invested as I could possibly be without each of us getting smothered. As much as I enjoy having my dick sucked and the feeling of blowing my load, the feeling of being loved is more rewarding. I promised the next time, I would care more. I would invest more. I’m not sure what this is with Grace. Other than her being my client’s abandoned daughter and being hired to follow her, the chemistry is there. Just like it was with Kristy, but it is like my need to be around Grace is multiplied by like a fucking billion.

  “Are you okay?” Her words pull me from my stupor.

  “Yeah, are you?”

  “What do you mean? I’m more than okay right now.”

  If someone walked through the door to see her sitting on my counter, almost completely naked, they would call me a moron for not having her in my bed right now. But honestly, I want to figure out what is going on first. The storm doesn’t look like it is passing through, so we might be here awhile without power. We have plenty of time for sex.

  “Hold onto me.” Her arms stretch out to hold me around my neck, as I pull her ass to my waist. Her legs tighten as I grab her and position her against me and then start to walk down the hallway. The hallway is pitch black since the three doors are closed. My father sleeps in the spare room when he’s here, but other than that it’s just me and Josie, unless Carson makes a visit. Her scent and the closeness of her sexy body push my senses into overdrive as I carry her down the hall.

  He holds me tight against his chest as he walks down a long, dark hallway. I don’t know where we are going, but I can only hope it’s his bedroom. Using his foot to kick open a door to the left, we walk inside a large room. It’s dark, but I can still tell the décor is breathtaking. I wonder who decorated it. There’s a giant bed; it has to be a king because it’s almost double the size of mine. He walks backwards towards the bed and sits on the edge. I am straddling his lap and the position reminds me of our night at my house. I can only hope today ends the same way.

  My hair is wavy from the rain and has fallen all over the place. I imagine I look like a mess, but right now I don’t care. Parker raises his hand and brushes my hair off of my cheek and around to the other shoulder. It is hanging over one of my breasts now. The movement of his legs under my butt causes me to shift in his arms. Hearing a thump against the floor, I know he was taking his shoes off. He pushes off of the ground and scoots his butt on the mattress, with me still on top of him. We make our way up the bed until his back is resting against the headboard. It is big and wooden with small, black, iron rods in the middle. My mind instantly thinks about being tied to them.

  Maci would say my crazy imagination of kinkery is from all those romance novels I read, but I beg to differ. For some strange reason, I feel like these thoughts have been inside my mind for a long time. After what happened…I have been too scared to allow my mind to wander to those places, but since I met Parker, all my mind does is think about being tied up and bent over.

  “Are you comfortable?”

  I nod.

  We sit staring into each other’s eyes for a few seconds. The sounds of wind thrashing against the house reminds me of something, but I can’t quite grasp the memory. I have never felt safer than right now, tucked away in the middle of nowhere with Parker. The thought escapes me as Parker opens his mouth to speak.

  “So what had you all tore up? I don’t mean to overstep, but it was apparent you were upset about something.”

  “I was. It’s a long story, something I don’t share with anyone.” He looks like I just slapped him across the face. Surely he would understand some things you just don’t tell people.

  “I get it, but if you’re upset, tell me whose ass I need to beat to make you feel better.”

  “My mother’s and Maci’s,” I laugh.

  “Oh, so that’s who was with you, your mom?”

  I nod again.

  “Okay.” He doesn’t pry, but simply runs his fingertips down my arms, over and over. His soft touch puts me at ease, and I like it. I like him. I like Parker Porter, and I don’t even know him, but I have never been this drawn to someone. Even after Brody, I never dated anyone exclusively. It took a really long time for me to even feel comfortable enough to be around men again, and then one night I was out with Maci and met Todd. I slept with him and cried the entire time. I thought if I just got it over with, if I just had sex again, it would somehow erase what had happened. I was wrong and my casual hook-up was probably one of the stupidest things I’ve done as an adult. He must have thought I was some freak because I never heard from him again. But here we are, Parker and I, in another intimate situation, and he hasn’t run for the hills yet and strangely I don’t feel awkward or uneasy. It’s like being wrapped in his arms with nothing but the warmth of his body next to me is the most natural thing in the world. It’s not his touch that scares me; it’s the feeling I get when he does it.

  We stay sitting looking into each other’s eyes for a few minutes. His fingertips running up and down my arms make me quiver from his touch. I want so badly to lean forward and kiss his plump lips, but I fight the urge because the thought of breaking this moment isn’t worth it. We remain in this position for a few minutes longer until I break the silence. If I like him like I think I like him, then he deserves to know a little bit about me. Deciding to open myself up isn’t something I am used to. Other than being myself around Maci, there is no one who really knows the real Grace. The woman who is funny and fun-loving, the carefree woman I used to be died a long time ago. But sitting here in Parker’s arms I can feel my body tingling. Like a part of me, of the woman I lost, is coming back. The thought makes me smile, but also makes me cautious. If I open myself up again, I am basically allowing myself to get hurt again. There is no telling where this is headed, but I know for sure right here, right now I feel comfortable enough to give him some details of who I am, even if the tiny bit only scratches the surface.

  “There was this guy I dated during high school. He was a loser and did something awful. Anyways, I’ve never heard from him again, but that doesn’t stop people from bringing him up. What happened is in the past and I want it to stay there, but my mother and Maci keep digging it up. Honestly, I am tired of hearing about it, much less talking about it, especially today, on my birthday of all days.” My voice shakes from the comprehension of the words that just left my mouth. I have never openly discussed the incident with anyone other than my parents, Maci, and my old counselor. Oddly, it feels good, and it feels good to do it in the safety of someone’s arms.

  “Today is your birthday?”

  “Yes. The big twenty-three… really it isn’t a big deal, to me at least. Just another day. But Maci has this whole celebration planned out for tonight. Speaking of, what time is it?” He looks over my shoulder; his movement makes me curious so I turn around too. There is an alarm clock sitting on the dresser, but there is no time showing. Reminding us both that the electricity is out, he moves my leg and reaches into his pocket.

  “It’s only two o’clock. Keep going I want to know more about you.”

  “There isn’t much else to know.” His hand rises, causing me to flinch. I know he notices from the look in his eyes, but he continues moving it towards my face. Placing it on my cheek, his fingers slowly move my head closer to his and then he kisses me, slowly at first, but then more passionately than I have ever been kissed; even more than on our night not long ago. My lungs are begging for air, but I can’t seem to break the connection our lips have to breathe. Breathing in Parker’s scent is enough for me. If I die right now from lack of oxygen, I will die a very,
very happy woman.

  I have zero willpower in me to stop kissing her. I knew she had a past; her timid behavior told me that much. Hearing about some jackass makes my blood boil, and then learning it’s her birthday is just icing on the cake.

  How did I miss that?

  What a shitty job of investigating I’m doing! And why did she flinch when I went to touch her? I have never laid a hand on a woman and I don’t think I’ve given her a reason to be scared of me in the short amount of time we have known each other. It makes me wonder about this old boyfriend and what she meant by “he did something awful.” Her panting brings me back, and her rocking on top of me clouds my thoughts.

  “Let me give you a birthday present, okay?” It isn’t really a question. I was going to give it to her before I learned it was her birthday, but now I will make it extra special. Last time was nice; hell, I was attracted to her at the bar so filling her body with parts of mine felt amazing. Even her sudden daringness made me horny, but today is different. She was upset this morning, and I want to do anything I can to make sure she is happy, even if it’s solely using my mouth.

  “You have to listen to me though, okay?” She nods.

  “And do what I say?”

  “Okay.” She sounds nervous and hesitates to respond, but she could have said no.

  Her willingness to obey makes my dick twitch in my pants. Kristy and I used to play these games. Then after we split I met this chick, Melody, at some bar downtown, and she was, well, to put it nicely, a freak. Like hardcore – whippings and getting off from torture type shit. It never appealed to me before, until she made me submit to her. I’m man enough to admit that, and it was pure ecstasy. I don’t do drugs, but if I did, it would be equivalent to the same type of high. Since then I have been a little more adventurous in the bedroom. I have always enjoyed sex and had a lot of it, both before and after Kristy. But now sex is different. There is something so liberating about pushing a woman to her breaking point and making her wait until you tell her to come. The first time around was mild. I pushed Grace, but nothing like she is about to get. After all it is her birthday; I think she deserves something special.

  “I want you to kiss me, kiss me hard, like you’re never going to see me again.” Disappointment creeps its way onto her face, but is soon replaced by hunger and a need to be filled. Her lips find mine again. Opening my mouth I allow her tongue to enter. With every stroke of her tongue, her pelvis grinds against my body. The thin fabric of the basketball shorts I am wearing does nothing to hide the hard-on forming in my boxers. Strikes of lightning highlight the sky and allow enough light to shine through the windows to give me a perfect view of the angel sitting on top of me.

  “Do you like kissing me hard like that?”

  Through the panting of her breathing she says, “Yes.”

  “Do you want me to kiss you? Somewhere other than your mouth?”

  The temperature is hot; it almost makes your lungs feel claustrophobic. I can feel my length getting longer. Grabbing her ass, I scoop her off of my lap and sit her on the bed. She scoots up so she is now against the headboard. Sliding down her long, slender legs, I pick up one of her feet. They are almost as beautiful as she is. If a woman has a nice set of tits and a perky ass, we are golden, but having nice feet…well, let’s say those are the types of characteristics that make a woman wife material. And Grace has them all.

  They are as soft as the rest of her skin. Looking up to meet her eyes, she looks nervous. I raise one up and kiss the instep of her foot on the side. My action makes her toes curl. She hasn’t seen anything yet. The thought makes me smile as my lips leave a trail of kisses until her big toe is perched on my lips. I slowly kiss it. Her back arches in the air and the sound of her taking a sharp breath excites me. One hand holds her foot in place and the other holds her heel. I stay in the same position kissing her, marking her with my mouth, until her body trembles and she does everything but open her mouth and beg for more. But that’s my goal. I want her to beg. I want her to come unglued, until those naughty words, “fuck me,” leave her sweet mouth again.

  Grabbing both of her ankles, I pull her towards me, and then in one swift motion remove my shirt. Now I am topless, and so is she. Sitting on my knees with her legs resting on my thighs, I bend to kiss her. Her hands come up and she runs her fingers through my hair. Innocently tugging my hair she laughs. Little does she know I like it rough, and that simple act turns me on more than she could ever imagine. Moving my mouth to her cheek, my body bends closer as my lips descend down her neck. Giving her a sample, I suck and lick her skin. My tongue travels from her neck to her chest. Reaching behind her back my fingers start to undo her bra clasp. She leans up, giving me better access. I look up and see her staring down at me. The room is silent, but I swear her eyes are talking, urging me to continue on my journey. Once the clasp is free, I bite the bra strap and tug on it. She moves her shoulder a little bit, giving the strap room to wiggle before it slides off. Last time, I was so eager to be inside her I didn’t take my time messing with the little things like this, but this time I want to enjoy it. We’ve both proven our attraction, and honestly, I don’t know how long I could have stayed away anyways. The mindless broad I’ve had a few times over the past few weeks didn’t do anything to fill my need. Yeah, she got me off, but the entire time it was Grace I pictured riding me. Now I have the real thing again, and time is on my side.

  Her nipples are already hard. We make eye contact, but again she doesn’t say a word as I bend to put one in my mouth. I stay looking at her as her skin touches my lips. I move my tongue over it slowly and then flick it, causing Grace to moan. The sound is like music to my ears. My lips surround it and then start to suck. Pulling it up and then placing my teeth lightly around it, I bite.

  “Ahh...” she cries out. Just like I knew she would. I feel her hand grab a fistful of my hair. She doesn’t say stop, so I continue. Moving to the other nipple I do the same. Hell, I don’t want it to feel left out; it’s like I’m obligated to share the love. Then I descend and leave little kisses on her toned stomach. She has to work out; there is no doubt about it. She definitely does something to stay in shape; I just wonder what it is. Once I reach her panty line, I move my pointer finger and drag it along the hem. Her legs shift as her pelvis tilts in the air. I’m sure my touch is driving her wild, but she hasn’t made a peep yet. Her skin is soft, and shaven, just like I remember. There is nothing I love more than a clean, shaven woman. Who wants to play in a furry jungle? Not me, that’s for damn sure. Her pelvis tilts up in the air so her ass is no longer resting on the mattress, indicating she wants her panties off.

  I shake my head side to side. “Not yet, sweetheart.” Her lips part, but again she doesn’t speak. She is better at this game than I suspected. Laying her legs on the bed beside me I extend mine out in front of me, so our legs are making a diamond shape in front of us. Looking down I see my cock sticking up. She notices me looking at my own dick and slowly moves her butt up so she is sitting upright. Crawling on her knees she moves to hover on top of me, but her weight is still on the mattress. Mimicking my recent actions, she kisses my lips, then neck, and stops in front of my chest. Tilting her head up, her eyes are hooded and asking for permission. Nodding my head up and down, her tongue glides across my nipple, the pierced one.

  Years ago, Ramsey tried to talk me into letting him give me a tattoo. There was no way I was letting him practice on me when there were drunker than hell paying customers he could practice on. His internship years were the worst, but every time I was at the shop he asked. He is a persistent little fucker is what he is, and finally I caved. Instead of letting him practice tattooing, I let him give me a piercing. I’m not sure why I still have it in, but right now feeling Grace’s lips suck on it, moving the bar around with her teeth, makes me thank God I never took it out. Getting her nipple fix, she moves down, placing little kisses wherever her lips land, until there is no more exposed skin left to kiss. Her cheek brushes the head of
my dick that is hiding beneath my shorts.

  She freezes.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

  Hesitating, she asks, “Can I?”

  There is something about her I just can’t grasp. One second she is shy, almost fragile, and the next second she is a horny beast. Like my dick is her crack and she is addicted. Her dainty hands lift the waistband of my shorts, exposing my shaven skin. She stops and looks up. I nod, and she accepts my go ahead, continuing to pull down my shorts. I decide to lift my hips to make it easier, as she lowers my shorts and boxers to my knees. My dick springs out of them. If God gifted me with anything, it was a giant cock.

  Now is not the time to be nervous. I’ve made it this far, and I’ve read enough smut to know what to do. I don’t remember it being so big and thick last time. Really, I never got a good look at it before, but it is, like, huge. I wonder how he fit it all inside of me before. It’s either now or never. I’ve certainly thought about it enough. At home, when I knew Maci was asleep. I thought about him and doing this to him. I want to watch him get excited, the same way his touch and mouth excite me.

  All right. I’m going do it.

  He leans back so he is almost lying on the bed, but his elbows are holding him up, supporting his weight as he peers down his chiseled chest. Breaking our gaze, my hand travels up his leg and around his shaft. It is thick, like really thick. My small hand doesn’t even fit around the whole thing. I lick my lips and make my move. Hovering over top of him, I lower my head and part my mouth. The head of his penis is wet. I remember Maci talking about pre-cum before and its salty taste. His skin touches my bottom lip. It is hot. Opening my mouth, I put the tip of his erection into my mouth and close my lips. As my tongue traces it, its shape reminds me of a mushroom. He clears his throat. The sound makes me freeze.