“I like to be straight up.” Her voice is quivering, but she doesn’t make any attempt to move away from me so I bring a hand to the back of her neck, slipping her hair through my fingers, and there’s a little sound she makes in the back of her throat before she continues. “Whatever this is, and I get it. There’s something here. But, it can’t be more than physical.”
“Is that so? There is something, I agree. I think we should explore this something.”
I pull back a bit, her cheeks are bright pink and I raise an eyebrow at her.
“It’s just…” She tries, but I slide my hand under her hair, lightly gripping the back of her neck and turning her body so she’s facing me. Her tits are just brushing the front of my vest. “If this is something, it can’t be more than like, friends with benefits. Or whatever, because we’re not really friends.”
I bite into my cheek. I like the benefits part of that, but a flash of red anger blinds me.
“You’ve had these kind of friends before?” I manage, trying to keep my voice even as I imagine choking the life out of anyone that’s had some casual encounter with her before.
Because nothing about what I’m feeling is casual.
“No, it’s not that—” She stammers, as my fingers pulse on the back of her neck and my eyes stay on hers, watching her lashes flutter. “I’m just not interested in anything serious. You don’t strike me as the type that wants serious either, so I just want to be clear…if we, you know.” She shrugs a shoulder upward and there’s an innocence in her eyes and words that makes me think this is all fairly new territory for her. “Nothing serious. Just sex.”
“I don’t think you have any idea what I want.” I run my other hand down her back until I have a handful of the world’s most magnificent ass. “But, I’m willing to show you.”
She stalls, holding her breath, then lets out a long exhale before she replies. “Maybe you won’t like what I want.” She counters in a harsh tone, but that tough voice she uses doesn’t fool me.
Sure, she’s tough. She’s straightforward as fuck, and it all turns me on. But, it’s what I sense behind it all. There’s a girl inside, unsure, looking for answers, and I imagine this other part of her, the part that she wears for the rest of the world, might be something she needs to put down on occasion and let someone else take control.
And that someone is about to be me.
I pick up the bottle and nod. Without a word, she takes it from me. There’s no hesitation this time as she turns her head away from me and she takes a long swig of the clear liquor before shoving the bottle into my chest.
I counter with another shot of my own, and start to feel the effects of the tequila. I’m not a huge drinker, most people would think otherwise from stereotypes, but if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a stereotype.
I push away my own reservations. The clutching inside is stronger than my logic, and there’s just something about her that fucking levels me in ways I never felt before.
I put down the bottle and slide both hands down her arms, ending with her hands in mine.
“Follow me.” I lick my lower lip and turn, holding both her wrists in my hand and pulling her toward the back hallway
I know Luann that owns this place. She’s about a hundred and twenty, but has the libido of a pubescent boy. She hit on me the first time I came in here and although she was disappointed when I turned down her advances, she told me that her old man was one of the first Heartlands members, way back in the day, and we got close.
He’s been gone decades now, but she carries his name inked down across her chest, along with a pair of eyes that are supposed to be his. She says he would want her to be happy, but she feels like he’s with her this way even when she’s with some other man.
I pull Robin behind me toward a metal door under the buzzing fluorescent lights. Stopping in front of it, I drop her hand, reach into my back pocket and pull out a pocket knife, jamming it into the key slot in the knob.
“What are you doing? You can’t just—” The sound of me throwing my shoulder into the metal door and it popping open finishes her sentence.
“It’s okay. I know the lady that owns this place. She won’t care. In fact, she’d be jealous…”
I flip on the light switch and the room is stacked with boxes of single use detergents and dryer sheets for the vending machine, along with a big yellow bucket with a mop and other miscellaneous, and probably toxic, cleaning supplies.
I spin her in front of me and pull the door shut with a thud. The single bulb above casts shadows across her face as she tugs her lips to the side, scrunching her freckled nose and ruining me with a final death blow.
She has a dimple.
Not just any dimple. It’s a secret dimple.
I’ve seen her smile before and it’s never come out to play before now.
It’s perfect. And it seems it only shows itself on special occasions.
Like this one.
I didn’t think I could get any harder, but I was wrong.
I turn her toward a stack of boxes, pressing my chest into her back, and walk her two steps forward until they are just in front of her.
“Put your hands here.” I reach around her and show her what I want, before pulling my hands back and feeling her tense and freeze.
I give her a second.
Two.
Three.
“Do it now.” I grunt, running a hand down the back of her head, then gripping a handful of her hair and tugging.
I rub my erection against her ripe, round ass, and watch as she settles her hands on top of the box, bending ever so slightly at the waist and pushing her softness back into me. I give her a few dry hump thrusts so she makes no mistake what’s she’s doing to me.
“You feel that, don’t you?”
“Uh huh,” she manages, and I run my other hand over her hip, slipping my fingers under the hem of her t-shirt and working it upward until I feel the soft warmth of her skin.
I flatten my palm on her stomach and aim my fingers toward the button on her jeans, listening to her breathing halt, then start and halt again.
Her back is arched as I flip my fingers on the button of her jeans and then work her zipper down, and I hear the moan she tries to bite back but it’s too late.
I want to kiss her mouth but I settle for pressing my chest to her back, breathing in her sweet, candy scent, and press my lips just in front of her ear as I work my fingers lower.
Lower.
Her jeans are tight but I feel the brush of a few curls of hair, then the slick heat as I dip my middle finger between bare lips and feel the drench of wetness. And now I’m the one biting back a moan.
“Just a sec…” She manages, turning her head enough to catch my eye. “I’m just... I’m not fucking you in some back room at a laundromat.”
“No?” I rub the length of steel under the zipper of my pants against her ass and listen to her breathing hitch.
“No.” She snaps. “I know it’s probably what you want, but let’s just…”
“What?”
“Other stuff, but not that.”
I move my middle finger until I find her clit and start circling it slowly at first, then faster, until her eyes drift closed and she drops her head between her arms on a sigh.