Enjoy the first 3 chapters of EDUCATING ANSLEY
Copyright © 2011 CAT JOHNSON
With an extreme amount of willpower Jeremy Kane yanked his gaze up from the two perfect, round globes clearly exposed nearly to the nipples by his patron’s low cut blouse. He stared into the blue eyes of the hottest woman he’d seen in a long time and said the hardest thing he’d ever had to say. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“Why not?” She pouted prettily with lips painted red.
Man oh man would that lipstick look real nice ringing his cock. Imagining all that mouth could do to him, he found he now had trouble keeping his gaze off her lips. Until he let it drop to her cleavage once again, where it rested very happily.
What had the question been again? Oh, yeah. Why he couldn’t take her back to her place and fuck. He almost had trouble remembering what the answer was.
“Because I can’t leave yet. I have to close up the bar tonight.”
He glanced at the clock above the cash register. Two more hours until closing time after which he’d have to kick out the drunks, count the cash in the register, lock it in the safe, and then clean up. What were the chances this tasty and willing tidbit would still be hot for him and conscious by the time he was done? While Jeremy watched her eyelids droop a little lower as her head swayed slightly he decided the odds were not in his favor.
Damn. He would have enjoyed a little bit of mindless rutting tonight. Working his grandmother’s ranch all day and picking up a night or two a week at the bar was starting to wear on him. Not to mention that in this Colorado town of barely eight hundred residents, most of who were old or married or both, having this little redheaded gift drop unexpectedly into his lap tonight had been pretty amazing.
Jeremy sighed, wishing she was actually in his lap right now. He decided to stop torturing himself. “Let me call you a cab to take you home.”
A familiar male voice came from behind him. “That’s okay. No need for a taxi. I got this one covered, bro.”
He rolled his eyes as Ryan sauntered up to the bar. “Yeah, I’m sure you do.”
With a devilish grin, Jeremy’s younger brother extended his hand to the woman. “Hey there. I’m Ryan Kane.”
She treated Ryan to a sloppy smile. “I’m Rita. Hey, do you know you look just like him?”
Hooking a thumb in Jeremy’s direction, she squinted her eyes at both of them in turn.
“That’s because he’s my brother.” Jeremy answered for Ryan, less than happy about the relationship at the moment as his brother, who wasn’t working two jobs, swooped in to snatch up this tasty piece of snatch.
“I have an idea. Why don’t both of you take me home?” Her eyebrows rose and Jeremy could see the gears in her brain working. Ignoring what he had told her before about his having to stay to close up, she was obviously looking to double her pleasure, double her fun.
Jeremy drew in a deep, patient breath as Ryan nodded his head enthusiastically. “Excellent question. Why don’t we both take her home, Jeremy? I sure as hell can’t come up with a good reason.”
“I can’t leave until after I lock up for the night.” Maybe if Jeremy kept repeating that enough, it might get through to at least one of them.
“I’m going to the ladies room. Then the three of us can all go back to my place.”
Then again, maybe nothing was getting through to Rita right now. She stumbled off the bar stool, straightening her shorter than short skirt as she went.
His brother, easily distracted as usual, watched Rita’s ass sway until the bathroom door blocked his view, then turned back to Jeremy. “No sweat, bro. I’ll take her home now. You meet us there after you close up. I should have her nice and warmed up by then.”
“No. Nuh, uh. Not gonna happen.” Jeremy shook his head.
“Why not? She’s willing.”
“Of course, she’s willing. She’s drunk.” It may be a fine line Jeremy tread thinking if he didn’t have to work it would have been all right to take her home himself in this condition, while thinking going there with Ryan for a threesome was wrong, but hell a man had to draw the line somewhere. Besides that, sharing a woman with his little brother was not real high on his To Do list. Not in this lifetime.
Ryan managed to look fairly convincingly indignant. “She’s not that drunk. Come on. What kind of pig do you think I am?”
Jeremy knew exactly what kind of pig his brother was when it came to the fairer sex. “The kind who trolls bars near closing time looking for drunk girls who need a ride home.”
“Ow. You wound me. My own brother. I came to visit you, not to pick up women.” Ryan clutched his hand to his heart, then leaned in and lowered his voice. “Now hush up and listen because here she comes. Call me on my cell when you get done here and I’ll give you the address and directions to her place.”
Before Jeremy could comment, Rita had tottered over in her high heels.
“You ready, darlin’?” His brother took her by the elbow. Eyelids drooping more than they’d been before, Rita nodded. As he steered her toward the door, Ryan mouthed over his shoulder to Jeremy, “Call me.”
“Don’t hold your breath, bro,” Jeremy mumbled.
He figured Ryan would be lucky if Rita stayed awake as far as the town line anyway, but at least now it was no longer Jeremy’s job to worry about getting her into a cab and home safely.
* * * *
Ryan pulled into the trailer park and slowed to a stop. If he’d known she lived more than half an hour outside of town, he might have reconsidered offering her a ride. On the other hand, if things panned out as he hoped, a night of wild sex with this willing woman—a redhead no less—would definitely be worth his while.
He wondered if her drapes matched her carpet, so to speak. Or better yet, perhaps there was no carpet at all. Oh, yeah. Ryan liked him some hair-free puss.
“Which one is yours?” When no response came, he looked over and found Rita slumped against the window in the passenger seat. “Rita? Wake up, darlin’. You need to tell me which is your place.”
She moaned, sputtered a bit and then started to snore. He sighed. Now what? The idea of dumping her on the stairs outside one of the trailers and leaving crossed his mind. It was pretty warm out tonight.
Nah. He couldn’t do that. Maybe if he knew which one she lived in he could have—
“Hey! You have Rita in that truck with you?” The female voice came out of the darkness from somewhere behind him.
Ryan leaned out the open window and spotted a woman standing in the doorway of one of the trailers. The light from inside silhouetted her body beneath the extra large, white T-shirt she wore with nothing else.
“Yeah, I do. How’d you know?”
“She called a little bit ago and said she was getting a ride home with a couple of hot cowboys.”
Hot cowboys, huh? Things were looking up. He cut the ignition and pocketed the keys. Opening the driver’s side door, Ryan slid out of the truck and ambled over. “I’m Ryan.”
Ryan moved closer. “Nice to meet you, Jackie. Rita’s sound asleep in the truck. I’m not sure what you want me to do with her.”
He did know what he’d like to do with Jackie. His gaze started at her bare feet and ran straight up her long, lean legs, all the way to the nipples of the damn nice, braless breasts poking out at him through the thin fabric of the shirt.
Jackie was doing a little perusal of her own as her gaze swept from the toes of his boots to the brim of his hat, taking in all the places in between. There was one particular place in between which started to wake up.
“Let her sleep it off out there for awhile. Do you wanna come in?”
A smile curved Ryan’s lips. “I’d love to.”
The door had barely shut behind them and Jackie had her hands on him, running over his chest, then down to land at his belt buckle. “Mm. Nice muscles.”
“Thank you much.” He grinned, resting his hands on her waist. “Nice T-shirt.”
Jackie was as friendly as Rita, and sober, which is what made it even more interesting when she began undoing his belt. She mastered the buckle in less time than he could have and he owned the damn thing. She slid her hand inside his underwear and grabbed him.
Ryan jumped at the sudden contact. “Wow. You don’t waste any time, now do you?”
Not that he was exactly complaining, but damn. He watched as she pulled him out. It didn’t take even a minute before she’d stroked him into his full glory.
“Mm. Big. Just like I like ’em.” She licked her lips, staring at his length in her grasp.
He was no slouch in the size department, but Jackie’s hands were small, making him look extra big. Ryan liked the view.
She ran a long red fingernail down his slit, sending a shiver right through him. He watched as she scooped up a glistening drop of pre-come on a fingertip, and nearly groaned when she stuck the finger in her mouth and licked it off. Then she was back to stroking him again, hard and fast. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, holding on tighter to her waist to remain standing as he got closer to coming. His balls tightened and just when he was starting to get really into it, she stopped. At the break in contact he opened his eyes. Were they moving this little party to the bedroom?
“So what d’ya want, cowboy? Twenty-five for a blow job. Fifty for straight sex. Anything kinky is extra.” Jackie stood before him, her head cocked slightly to the side, waiting for an answer.
“What?” His eyes open wider. “You’re a hooker?”
Ryan dropped his hands from her waist, afraid she’d charge him for touching her. That would probably be at least a buck per finger.
“I prefer independent contractor. So what’s it gonna be?” She wet the tip of one finger and ran it over the head of his cock. Under other circumstances, he probably would have really liked that move.
Staring down as her finger teased him, Ryan remembered Rita out in his truck and how she’d so willingly invited him and Jeremy back to her place. “Is Rita one too?”
“Damn.” Here he thought it had been his charm and good looks.
Obviously getting impatient, Jackie dropped her hands away from his formerly happy, but rapidly deflating dick, letting the elastic of his underwear snap hard against the engorged tip.
She planted a hand on each of her hips. “Look, is this happening or not?”
“Sorry. I don’t pay for sex. Never have. Never will.” Ryan shook his head, laughing at the entire, ridiculous situation. Though if he thought about it, twenty-five bucks was less than what he might spend buying a girl drinks at a bar. Then the blow job wasn’t even guaranteed. Nah. He still couldn’t bring himself to pay for it. A man had to have principles.
“Fine, then it’s ten bucks for the hand job.” Jackie scowled.
“What? Are you kidding? That was not a hand job.”
“I got you hard, didn’t I?”
Ryan could not believe he was standing there with his jeans hanging open having this conversation. He zipped up while correcting her misconception. “I was half hard when I walked in the door. Besides, I didn’t come.”
“Okay, I’ll finish you off.” She reached for him and he jumped back.
Buckled up—mostly—Ryan backed toward the door. “No, thanks. I’ll tell you what. I drove Rita home so she didn’t have to take a taxi, which would have cost at least ten bucks, probably way more, so I’m calling it even.”
Before she could protest, he was outside and headed directly for the passenger door. He opened it, threw Rita’s dead weight over his shoulder and dumped her unceremoniously in a folding chair outside the trailer.
An angry Jackie glared from the doorway. “I told her all you cowboys were cheap deadbeats anyway.”
“You’re right, darlin’. Better steer clear of us in future.” He got in the truck. Firing up the engine, he took off with a squeal of tires and a spray of gravel and didn’t look back.
It wasn’t until he’d reached the highway that Ryan started to breathe normally again. He was damn lucky he’d been sober and hadn’t let his dick do the thinking. These were the kind of girls who would likely leave a man to wake up in a deserted parking lot with an empty wallet and a mouthful of cotton. All after a night he couldn’t remember and most likely hadn’t enjoyed because they’d slipped something in his drink.
It was bad enough Jackie had gotten him all excited and then tried to charge him for it afterward. Damn. Was there no honor left in the world’s oldest profession? The whole thing was enough to make a man cry.
Ryan sighed. It was starting to get late. The diversion with the hookers had eaten up a considerable portion of his night. On top of that, chances were good Jeremy would tease him about this relentlessly if he told him. Lying sounded like a good idea right about now. He’d decide later. Meanwhile, where should he go? Certainly not home. What fun was there in that?
He swerved the truck into the right lane and took the next exit. Soon the glow of neon greeted him.
“Hello, Lola’s Hideaway.” He’d hidden away here quite a few times.
Ryan grinned. There was not another car in sight. Perfect. The place would be empty. He parked the truck directly in front and pushed through the door. Lola was behind the bar cleaning up before closing, just as he expected her to be. As owner, she rarely left the place in the hands of anyone else. According to the old timers, it had been that way for the past fifteen years.
“Well look what the cat dragged in just before closing time.” Flashing him the smile he knew well, Lola shook her head and continued to wipe down the bar. “What? Couldn’t reel yourself in some sexy young kitten tonight? You must be losing your touch.”
Ryan grinned wide and leaned over the bar.
“Now, Lola. You know for a fact I haven’t lost my touch. Besides, I like my women with a little more experience anyway.” Not quite as much experience as the hookers back there, but he kept that tidbit to himself. Ryan reached out and stilled her hand as it swiped the frayed towel across the bar. He gave it a squeeze.
Even though she never failed to remind him she was old enough to be his mother every chance she got, Lola was a very attractive woman. Hey, forty was the new thirty—wasn’t that what all the magazines the girls read said?
Lola’d never been married. Never wanted to be after a bad relationship years ago turned her off men. Well, turned her off being legally attached to a man. Sex she still liked just fine. Just as how she liked Ryan, and he liked her.
Ryan pointedly glanced around the empty place. “There’s no one here. How about you close up a few minutes early tonight and I, uh, help you wind down and relax after a hard night’s work?”
He recognized the hungry expression on her face as she flung the rag beneath the bar. “Lock the front door.”
Flipping lights as she went, Lola led a path to the back stairs. “Call me ma’am again and I’ll slap you.”
Ryan grinned. “Mm. That sounds fun. I think I might like that.”
“Careful what you wish for, boy, you may not be able to handle it.” On the way up the stairs, Lola grabbed the piggin’ string that hung on the wall for decoration. It had belonged to a champion tie-down roper who’d passed through years ago and taken a shine to Lola.
She shot him a heated glance over her shoulder.
Maybe that rope wasn’t just for decoration after all. Lola had a side to her he’d never seen before, but he definitely would like to. The thought sent a tingle straight through to his balls as he followed her upstairs to her apartment. While considering which one of them was more likely to end up tied to Lola’s headboard, Ryan realized the night was shaping up nicely after all.
College graduation. It was supposed to be a milestone. Something to make your parents proud. Ha! Except for Ansley Craig’s parents. Her commencement barely crossed their radar as they traveled through Europe. Ansley smothered her anger and itched to check her cell phone to see what time it was as the proceedings dragged on.
Next to her, Kim Cho leaned closer. “Thanks again for giving me your extra tickets, Ans. I had no idea until a few days ago my parents were flying in from Korea to surprise me.”
“No problem. Glad I could help.” She hoped the bitterness in her voice didn’t sound as obvious to Kim as she thought it did.
Ansley’s gaze swept the crowd as another graduate went up to receive her diploma. She spied her grandmother in the fifth row. In the two chairs next to her, the seats she’d reserved for her parents, sat Mr. and Mrs. Cho, smiling broadly.
Torn between anger and pain over her own parents’ betrayal, the numbness in her jaw made Ansley realize she was clenching her teeth together again. Her dentist had warned her about that. What the dentist hadn’t told her was how she was supposed to control her subconscious response when her parents were missing their only daughter’s graduation after they’d promised to be there.
The dean held his tie out of the way and leaned over the microphone to read the name on the next diploma in the stack. “Ansley Craig.”
On cue Ansley stepped forward, the mortar board balanced on her head most likely flattening the hair she’d gotten cut, highlighted and blown out early that morning.
As she made her way down the risers and nearly tripped on her graduation gown, Ansley’s foul mood spread. Even the clothes on her back were beginning to anger her. Why did the graduates have to wear the whole cap and gown deal anyway? The cheap polyester thing was hot as hell under the May afternoon sun and it covered the new outfit she’d spent so much time choosing so she’d look nice for graduation. She’d be a hot, wrinkled mess when she took the gown off. Not that it mattered. Her parents wouldn’t see her.
A handshake from the dean, a few photos and that was it, what she’d stood in the heat for hours for was over, and her mother and father had missed it.
Fighting tears, Ansley clutched her diploma to her chest and walked the path toward the risers where her graduating class stood. With a quick glance to make sure no one was watching she kept walking past the risers, around the corner of the building and into the parking lot. Once out of view, she pulled off both the cap and gown and rolled the whole thing into a ball.
She spotted Tiffany and her new Porsche convertible—a graduation gift from her parents—parked in the shade. Lucky Tiffany had gotten her diploma close to an hour ago. By the looks of her, sitting cross-legged on the hood of the car with a champagne bottle in one hand, she’d already started celebrating being done with school.
“About time you got here. I’ve been waiting forever.” Tiffany handed her the open bottle of Veuve Clicquot.
“Yeah, I know. I saw you sneak out.” Ansley tossed her diploma, cap and gown into the back of the car and took a swallow from the bottle Tiffany handed her. It wasn’t icy, but the alcohol was enough to quench her thirst. The bubbles slid down her throat past the lump lodged there.
Tiffany wiped both hands on her knee-length shorts. “I’m sweating in this heat. This is barbaric. Why couldn’t they have the graduation indoors? Somewhere that it’s air conditioned.”
As a bead of sweat rolled between her shoulder blades, Ansley shrugged. “I’m hot too and I had to stand up there while you were here in the shade drinking so stop complaining.”
A frown creased Tiffany’s forehead. “What’s got you so bitchy? We’re done with college. It’s summer. We’re celebrating. Be happy.”
“My parents didn’t come.” Ansley delivered the statement without any trace of the emotion she truly felt. In reality she’d been too upset when she’d found out yesterday to even tell her best friend.
Tiffany’s brow crinkled in sympathy. “Aw, Ans. What happened? Was their flight from Italy canceled?”
“Nope.” Ansley pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She scrolled to the text and thrust the phone at Tiffany so she could read the message that had broken her heart just twenty-four hours before.
Can’t make it home. Got invited on the Borghese yacht. Couldn’t say no! Have fun at graduation. Have Grandma take lots of pictures. Love, Mom and Dad.
Tiffany handed the phone back. “I’m sorry.”
Ansley shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“What about your grandmother? Won’t she wonder where you are?”
“I don’t want to talk to her or anybody right now. We can tell both your parents and my grandmother we couldn’t find them in the crowd. I don’t know. Make something up. All I know is I need something stronger than this stuff.” She took another slug then thrust the bottle back at Tiffany. Champagne would do in a pinch, but as pissed as she was, she needed a nice big glass of vodka. Perhaps two or three.
“Sounds good to me. I’ve already spent too much time at this school. I’m done.”
Done. That’s exactly how Ansley felt. She was done trying to be a good student to impress parents who didn’t give a shit about her. Nearly perfect grades this semester, a community service award, a spot on the dean’s list and what did it matter? It didn’t. She shoved her sunglasses up when they began to slip down her nose.
“Damn, there’s not even a breath of fresh air. I can’t wait until we leave for the Hamptons. There’s always a nice breeze at the beach.” Tiffany slid into the driver’s seat, still bitching about the heat. She turned the key and the powerful engine purred to life.
The mention of getting away caught Ansley’s attention. “When are you leaving?”
“Memorial Day weekend.” Tiffany wrinkled her nose. “The traffic is going to suck then though. I’m trying to get my parents to let me drive out early. I so don’t want to start my summer sitting in that parking lot Route 27 turns into every weekend once summer starts.”
Anything, even traffic, sounded better than what she was supposed to do this summer. Her graduation gift was a trip to Italy to spend the summer with her parents who’d been there for the past month.
Ansley sighed. “I wish I was going with you.”
“So come. Oh my God, how fun would that be? You and me, out there for the entire summer. We’ll even be legal this year, so we don’t have to use fake ID to get into the clubs.”
“I wish I could. Believe me. Italy with my parents is the absolute last thing I want right now.”
Tiffany shot Ansley a look. “But you were really looking forward to it before.”
“Not anymore. I’d probably just be in their way anyway.” Her parents were obviously too busy rubbing elbows with the rich and famous there to bother with her.
“Then don’t go. You’re twenty-one now. You can do what you want.”
Ansley let out a derisive snort. “I wish I could do what I want, but you know I can’t.”
Not while she lived under her grandmother’s roof and thumb.
Tiffany sighed and steered the car off school property. “I know. Why do our families still get to tell us what to do?”
Ansley raised her brow and glanced around them. The new cars. The designer shoes and clothes. The three-hundred dollar hair salon appointments. The couple of hundred thousand for college tuition. “Um, because they have all the money and we have none.”
“You’re right. I don’t have access to my trust fund until I’m twenty-five. What kind of bullshit is that? I mean, I could have joined the Army or gotten married at eighteen. I can legally drink at twenty-one, but I can’t spend my own money until I’m twenty-five. That sounds so old. It’s almost thirty.” Tiffany took a turn too fast and Ansley seriously hoped they’d live to be twenty-five.
She may be a bad driver, but Tiffany was right. Being dependent on their families until they turned twenty-five sucked. Especially with parents who acted like they didn’t even have a child. All the stuff Tiffany mentioned they were allowed to do, Ansley didn’t care about. She was pretty sure there was no chance of them joining the Army ever or getting married anytime soon. They’d been sneaking liquor out of their parents’ cabinets and drinking since they were twelve so being legal didn’t matter. But she still needed a considerable amount of money if she wanted to move out on her own. She wasn’t willing to wait four more years until she had control of her trust fund for that to happen.
“If I can find a job, at least I’ll have some money of my own.” And the freedom that came with it. Ansley sighed. What kind of work did she want to do though? Maybe the not-for-profit she volunteered for to get her service award would hire her for pay. Though people were far more likely to let you volunteer for jobs than pay you to do them.
Her friend’s head whipped around. “You’re getting a job?”
Ansley rolled her eyes. “Relax. I don’t know if I can find one in this economy. I’m not going to be able to even look before fall. Italy, remember?”
Hopefully she’d be able to spend a week with Tiffany in the Hamptons before Labor Day, but that was it. Her entire summer had been decided for her, like it or not.
Tiffany grinned wide. “Fuck getting a job. The only thing I’m getting is trashed and hopefully some hot sex at Bobby Briscoe’s graduation party tonight.”
While Ansley was worrying about work, her life, her future, Tiffany wasn’t looking past that night, but maybe she was right. They had plenty of time to worry about life later. Her parents didn’t care. Why should she?
With the wind whipping her hair, Ansley kicked off her heels and propped two pedicured feet on the dashboard. “That sounds like a plan. Let’s go.”
“Jeremy? It’s Sheriff Mason.”
Uh, oh. Jeremy dropped the bar rag and pressed the phone tighter against his ear so he could hear over the jukebox.
“Sheriff. Is Ryan all right?” His mind reeled with the possible trouble his brother could have gotten into.
This could be about anything. A bar fight. An accident. Ryan had seemed sober enough when he’d left with Rita, but who knew if they’d stopped for a few on the way back to her place. Hell. Rita could have been blowing him while he was behind the wheel and he’d crashed. Who could predict what would happen when Ryan was involved?
“I don’t know anything about Ryan, but I’ve got Ramona here in custody.”
“My grandmother is in custody?” Jeremy repeated the sheriff’s words, not believing what he’d heard.
“Yeah. I’m willing to release her with a warning, but she’s had too many for me to let her drive herself home.”
“She was driving drunk?” What the hell? She’d been sitting happily in front of the television when he’d left for his shift that night. Now he had to worry about both his brother and his grandmother getting into trouble while he was at work?
“No, no. They weren’t driving. They were busted for assault.”
“Excuse me?” This was getting stranger by the minute, and who the hell had the sheriff meant when he said “they”?
“It seems one of the ladies was celebrating her sixty-fifth birthday and they decided to get her a male stripper. Things got out of hand. Apparently the ladies weren’t happy the stripper wasn’t willing to take it all off, so they helped him.”
Holy crap. Jeremy was processing it all when the sheriff continued.
“I’d drop her off for you, but I’m the only one on the night shift and there’s just too many for me to chauffeur them all home individually.”
In shock, Jeremy sat down hard on a bar stool. “How many are there?”
The vision of ten blue-haired old ladies tearing the G-string off a male exotic dancer swam in his head. He shook it out as quickly as he could. “It’s okay, sheriff. I’m just closing Hank’s place for the night now. Let me lock up and I’ll be right over to get her.”
“Thanks, Jeremy. I appreciate it. I gotta go call the rest of the families. The noise level in here from all these women is starting to give me a headache. I took this job to get away from a cackling woman. Oh, shit. One of them is yelling she has to pee and is refusing to use the toilet in the cell. I gotta go.”
The sheriff disconnected the call as Jeremy stood, phone in hand.
Hell, if he had to deal with this, then Ryan sure as shit had to also. He punched the button for his brother and listened to the ringing before it went to voice mail. Disconnecting, he waited a second and then pushed the button again. Jeremy knew exactly why Ryan wasn’t answering the phone and he’d be damned if his brother got laid while he picked up their grandmother at the jailhouse after he’d already put in a long day and night of work.
“Yeah. What?” Finally, Ryan’s breathless voice answered. The man could barely speak. He better start running or something to get into shape if a little sex had him out of breath.
“Grams is in jail.”
“She was arrested for assault.”
“Okay, Jeremy, I know you’re mad I left and you had to work tonight, but our original plans together totally fell through so there’s no reason for you to be jealous and make shit up about Grams.”
“I’m not making anything up. I just got off the phone with the sheriff. She’s in jail and drunk and we have to pick her up.”
“Really? Wow. What did she… Holy mother. Oh, God…” There was some rustling then Ryan was back. “Jeremy, can’t you go get Grams? I’m a little, uh, tied up right now.”
“Ryan, I can hear what you’re doing and you’re just gonna have to stop. I’m still at work and can’t leave.” Jeremy lied without guilt. Ryan was right. He was jealous.
“Jeremy, I’m not kidding here. I’m literally tied up at the moment. Like with rope to the headboard. She’s holding the phone for me.” Ryan hissed in a loud breath. “And doing other things. Oh, boy…”
Well crap. That was an image Jeremy could have lived without. What horrible deeds had he done during some past life that had saddled him with this family as punishment in this one?
“You’re unbelievable.” He was about to launch into a lecture about responsibility when what could only be the sounds of his brother getting close to coming filled his ear. “Ah, jeez. Ryan, you fucking suck, you know that?”
Jeremy slammed the phone shut. A sex maniac brother and a grandmother who thought she was Peter Pan and never wanted to grow up, and they were both his responsibility. Shutting off the lights and locking up the bar, Jeremy had to wonder how he had landed the role of father figure for this dysfunctional family unit.
* * * *
Lola scraped her teeth up Ryan’s length none too gently as his hands strained against the thin rope binding his wrists. The goose bumps rose on his exposed skin, making the tiny hairs on his arms and legs stand on end. He shuttered, the mixed sensation of pleasure and pain totally doing it for him. Or maybe it was the fact he was tied and helpless that had him ready to shoot off like a geyser as she repeated the action with her mouth, harder this time.
He threw his head back against the pillow with a groan.
“You like that, don’t you?”
“Mm hm.” Ryan managed to open his eyes, and found her green ones focused on him as his cock lay just beside her lips. “You are a beautiful sight like that, Lola.”
She laughed. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
Not as many as she assumed, he was sure. He wasn’t that lucky and this was a small town with limited female resources. Ryan grinned. “But unlike tonight, I rarely mean it.”
“Flatterer.” She moved up his belly until her mouth found his chest. She bit, hard.
He jumped as she sucked on his skin, marking him. His eyes drifted closed again. Who knew he was so into pain mixed with his pleasure?
Lola sat up and looked down with satisfaction at the red mark on his pectorals, which would surely be a nice bruise by tomorrow morning. “There. Now I’ve marked you so tomorrow night, when you’re fucking some young thing, you’ll have to remember me.”
“Darlin’, I could never forget you.” Ryan smiled.
“Let’s make sure of that, shall we?” She leaned over him, putting one heavy breast near enough to his mouth he could capture the nipple with his lips.
She allowed him a moment to suckle on her before she continued to what must have been her destination in the first place—the drawer of the bedside table.
He turned his head to try and see what was all in there. He assumed condoms, and was happy they’d moved on to the fucking portion of the evening, but there were lots of other things in there too. She pulled out a bottle of lube and a tiny silver thing that looked like an oversized bullet. Lola spread the lube on the metal until it glistened, then she gave it a twist and it began to buzz.
“Mm. Where you putting that, darlin’?” Ryan’s cock twitched thinking about watching her pleasure herself with it.
Lola grinned. “Bend your knees and I’ll show you.”
His eyes flew open wide. “Uh, what?”
She moved back down between his legs. “Trust me.”
There was no way he was bending his knees for that thing to be shoved in his ass. He clamped his thighs tightly together, his ass cheeks too for that matter. She’d need the jaws of life to get it inside him. He tugged on the rope, wondering how much force it would take to get free.
Lola watched his efforts. “You really that scared of trying something new?”
She shook her head. “Hm. I guess I was wrong about you. I assumed a man of your worldly experience with sex would be into this.”
“Why? I’m not gay.”
Lola laughed. “Letting a me touch your ass during sex doesn’t make you gay, you idiot. But if you don’t want the best orgasm of your life, that’s fine.”
His head spinning, Ryan sized up the object Lola still held in her hand. “That wouldn’t fit anyway.”
Her brows rose high. “Your dick fits just fine in my ass, or have you forgotten? This is way smaller.”
“What…” He swallowed and tried to get out his question again, not believing he was even considering this, and all the while wishing his hands were free. “What exactly does it do that makes it the best orgasm of my life?”
“Let me show you.”
He eyed the vibrator again. “Untie me first.”
“No.” She obviously wasn’t budging on this point. With a sigh, he figured what the hell.
“Okay, but wait.” His voice rose in panic as she smiled and moved closer.
“I want a safe word.”
Lola rolled her eyes. “Okay, sissy. What’s your word?”
“If I want you to stop I’ll say ‘cucumber’.”
“Yeah.” He nodded, feeling confident that was a good choice.
“Okay, cucumber it is then. Interesting choice, by the way. I have one in the fridge, if you’d like to try that next.” Ryan frowned until she laughed. “I’m just teasing you, Ryan. Now bend your knees.”
“Promise you’ll stop if I say cucumber?”
“I will, but only if you promise you won’t chicken out before you even give it a chance. You’ll only use your safe word,” she rolled her eyes one more time, “if and when you really can’t handle it, which is ridiculous because this thing is tiny.”
“Okay,” he agreed, his heart pounding like mad. He bent his knees and prayed for the best.
“Good boy.” She nodded, looking satisfied. Then the wet heat of her mouth once again surrounded his cock.
Lola worked him until he’d almost forgotten about what she held in her hand. That was until he felt it pressing against him.
He jumped, pulling his hips off the bed and away from the object he truly didn’t want inside.
Her mouth broke contact. “Relax. I’ll take it slow.”
“I am so gonna fuck the shit out of you the minute you’re done torturing me and my hands are free.”
She smiled. “I’m counting on it.”
Oh man. That sent a shiver down his spine. Then she was back, drawing him between her talented lips, which would have been great if that damn thing wasn’t also back, pressing between his ass cheeks and against his hole. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ignore it. That worked pretty good since her tongue was doing wonderful things to the head of his cock and she did nothing with that damned bullet-shaped thing but hold it against him. That he could handle. The vibration felt good actually. A little harder would probably feel even better. He wiggled his hips a little lower and pressed against it.
The speed of her mouth on him increased at the same time he felt the tip of bullet push into him. Ryan held his breath, scared and waiting for when he’d need to shout cucumber, but Lola didn’t shove it inside him as expected. She didn’t move it, but kept working his cock instead. The combination of her mouth on him and the idea of something inside him where there’d never been anything before had his balls tightening.
Maybe she was right and he was being a sissy. Hell, he was tough. Ryan pushed down one more time and Lola responded by pressing the vibrator deeper.
He felt it pop in, past the tight ring of muscles and all the way inside. He gasped and held perfectly still, afraid to move. Lola’s eyes were open. She watched him as he vibrated from the inside. Then he realized she now had both hands free. He swallowed hard as panic threatened to defeat the pleasure.
“Lola? How are we getting that out of me?”
She raised her head and laughed. “There’s a string, silly.” To prove it, she reached beneath him and gave it a little tug, moving the vibe within him. He jumped as it hit an incredibly sensitive spot he hadn’t been aware existed.
“Oh man.” His eyes rolled back in his head.
He heard Lola laugh and that was pretty much the last thing he was aware of besides the sensations assaulting him. Her fingers working on his balls, her mouth and other hand working his cock hard and fast, and that thing vibrating something inside him that had his hips off the bed and bucking. Ryan felt the orgasm beginning. He heard himself shout with the pleasure of it.
He shot off so hard, if he wasn’t contained in Lola’s mouth he probably would have painted her ceiling with DNA. He even remembered thinking at one point it felt like it was never going to end. It kept going, or rather he kept coming with the most intense pleasure of his life, until he was finally empty but still pulsing in Lola’s mouth.
She moved to pull away and he panted out, “No. Don’t stop.”
Lola raised a brow and kept working him in her mouth until the pleasure was so intense it turned into pain. “Okay. Stop. Oh my God. Cucumber. Cucumber.”
She sat up, laughing. Without the oral distraction he could almost think again. Enough to realize the vibe was still in his ass.
“Get it out.” He consciously tried not to panic.
“Relax so I can.”
“Oh, God. Please go slow.” The idea of taking it out was just as scary as initially putting it in had been as he felt how deeply inside it was. It must have worked it’s way up from all the convulsing his body did while he came.
Lola shook her head again, laughing at his fears, but she was slow and gentle. Even though he twitched and jumped as the vibe made its outward journey, finally it was safely out. She twisted it off and laid it on the nightstand.
“So?” She was grinning at him as she pulled the tail of the rope binding him and his hands came free.
Ryan flipped Lola onto her back on the bed. He moved above her, his cock near to being ready again as his mind went immediately to the next event—fucking Lola.
Reaching over he grabbed the vibe and handed it back to her. “Stick it in me once I’m inside you?”
She laughed. “I guess that means you liked it.”
“Mm, hm. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to get back at you for scaring me like that.”
“Oh really. What do you have in mind, cowboy?”
Eying the contents of the drawer, he grabbed the lube and a much larger vibrator. Sizing it up he figured it would be tight, but it would fit where he planned to put it. He grinned. “Bend your knees.”
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