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  “Are we not going out?”

  C.J. looks over his shoulder and smirks. Stepping back, he holds out of his hand for me to take. I do.

  Well isn’t he a man of few words today?

  Leading me over to the kitchen table, C.J. grabs my hips and helps me up onto the edge of it. As soon as I’m there, he plants his hands on each side of me and leans his face so that our lips are almost touching.

  Well fuck me. Since when is it okay for him to be this close to me? And since when did he grow a pair of nuts like this? And how hard are you judging me that I think this is so fucking hot?

  Clearing my throat, I meekly ask, “Ever heard of personal space?”

  C.J. cocks a grin and moves his lips so they are closer to my ear. “I’m going to have my dinner now.” I go to respond when his lips sucks my earlobe into his mouth. Immediately, I whimper and let my legs slightly part, the sensation of every suck like a little piece of heaven.

  I should stop this. I should—

  His hands pull me by the hips against his large frame. His teeth scrape along my neck towards my collar bone, his tongue decorating it in teasing swirls, hitting each and every hot spot I have. When his mouth makes its way around to the spot below my jaw my legs widen to accommodate him while I use my hands to lean myself backwards.

  I can’t go to dinner like this. Are you fucking fo’ real? I can barely think let alone eat.

  C.J. pulls away from me and stares down at my slightly flushed face as if content to see me somewhat disoriented. The minute my mouth parts to say something his lips latch onto mine. A pleased whimper comes out of me igniting a deep groan from him. His tongue continues assaulting mine as his fingertips repeatedly drag themselves across my nipple, making me hungrier and hungrier for more of him.

  Foreplay shit is fun and all, but I want more. Fuck that. I need more.

  C.J. pulls away after a bite of my bottom lip and admires me again. His eyes dance across my overworked chest that’s struggling to breathe, my boobs that are playing peek-a-boo in my strapless dress, down to my long legs that are now spread open wide enough for him to see the satin red thong I’m wearing underneath. C.J.’s warm hands slide up the sides of my tan thighs, under my dress forcing my breath to hitch once from the initial touch and then again when he gives the sides of my thong a tug indicating he wants them off. I lift my ass up slightly and let him drag them off in such a slow fashion that it feels like I might come before any of the good shit actually happens.

  Is that even possible? Do people even do that?

  He tosses the delicate material over his shoulder, grabs a hold of my thighs, roughly pulling me as far to the edge as I can go, parts them, and drops his lips directly on top of my clit.

  “Oh God,” I cry out shutting my eyes as my head falls backwards.

  C.J. doesn’t let the moan do anything but spur him on. His tongue begins rolling around my clit, sucking, licking, and teasing something fierce. On instinct, my hands go to reach for his head to direct it where to stay when he interjects.

  His lips move off my body, which is when my head and eyes pop up. His voice sternly says, “Don’t. Touch.”

  A frustrated growl comes out of me and his tongue dances around my clit again like some sort of sick punishment for trying to object. My fingernails scrape the table and I close my eyes to fight the urge to touch him.

  Fine. He wants to be a delicious asshole, then I refuse to give him what he’s after.

  As if he heard me, C.J. slides two fingers inside to assist his mouth that was handling the job all on its own just fine. I squeak out another whimper as he pulls them out and slides them back in. The combination of sensations paired with the fact I haven’t had any attention on my pussy, other than my vibrator, in months is enough to make the orgasm that’s threatening to purr out of me, to come out in a full-fledged roar. Since I’m on the edge, he gives me a little nip and I fall off the deep end coming harder than I ever have, my hands pounding on the table while his name falls from my lips. Finally his tongue slows down to leisure licks at the same time his fingers glide themselves out of me.

  C.J. stands, sucks his fingers clean, and beams proudly down at me in my post orgasmic state. Biting his bottom lip, he stares at me like he owns me. Like, he’s always owned me. Like, he always will.

  I don’t like that, for many reasons. While at the same time, I do. What is wrong with me? Don’t answer that.

  Cockily, he says, “Well I’ve had my dinner. Let’s get you yours. Steak sound good? Reservations are at 9:15.”

  My eyes lower to a glare at his smart mouth comment.

  Bastard.

  Chapter 4

  C.J.

  Erin has barely said a word to me since we left my apartment, which is what I predicted would happen. It’s worth it even if it does sting.

  Look, everything with this girl is a power play. She argues for the sake of fucking arguing. I could say the sky is blue and she’d look me in the face and say it’s orange, knowing damn well I’m right. For the longest time I thought she hated me. And just so you know, being highly attracted to someone who you think you disgust is fucking hard. But then I had a little heart to heart with her best friend Maxx who so sweetly sold her out. Told me the harder she pushes and the more she acts like she hates me, the more she really likes me. A bit childish? Sure. But I trust there’s a good reason for it.

  “So I blow your back out and you refuse to speak to me. That hardly seems like a nice way to say thank you,” my remark makes her choke slightly on the red wine she was sipping. I watch as her perfectly painted pink lips twitch in response. “And if you try to deny it, we can reenact the entire thing right here, right now.”

  Leaning back Erin puts her wine glass down. “You wouldn’t.”

  “I would.”

  “You don’t have the balls to.”

  I lean slightly in to whisper, “You don’t know anything about my balls...yet.”

  She presses her lips together in a huff and looks away causing me to chuckle.

  All day... Every day. Welcome to the zone.

  “Look Erin, about earlier...” the tone in my voice takes a serious one. “I just—”

  “Don’t apologize,” she quickly snaps.

  “I wasn’t going to,” I reassure her. She raises her eyebrows I’m assuming impressed. “I’m not sorry I went after you like that. In fact the only thing that I’m sorry about is that I didn’t do it sooner—”

  “And why didn’t you?” She challenges. “Clearly, you fucking want me, why didn’t you come after me sooner?”

  “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy with you?”

  “Like, it’s just that easy with you?”

  “I’m not the one who shuts down any time we get too close.”

  “Yeah well that’s your fault too.”

  “Because the only other time I convinced you to go out with me on a so called ‘non-date’, you got too drunk, and instead of taking advantage of you like an asshole, I let you sleep it off like a gentleman? Well fuck me for being a nice guy.”

  “Nice guys don’t typically get to fuck...” she flashes me a bitchy smirk.

  This woman drives me crazy.

  “Besides, I didn’t ask you to be a nice guy.”

  “Too fucking bad, because I am. And drunken sex with a girl I’m actually interested in isn’t how I operate. And before you decide to go off and call me a pussy because I can see it in your eyes, make no mistake that I’m a real man in and out of the bedroom.” My voice lowers to a low but still audible level, “And I’ve done plenty of fucking.”

  Erin swallows some sort of emotion and reaches for her menu, a clear sign she’s done talking about this.

  Following suit, I grab mine and open it.

  How could I have possibly fucked this up already? Why didn’t you tell me to just shut the fuck up? I don’t mean to piss her off. I just...she’s just so damn difficult. You see her!

  “And the other times,” her voice whis
pers out. “What was stopping you then?”

  Stupidity, apparently. Oh...now you wanna co-sign?

  “Doesn’t matter,” I brush it off. “What matters now is I’m sick of this friend’s zone bullshit. And I’m gonna do something about it. Clearly, you want me to or your legs wouldn’t have fallen open so freely.”

  Her eyes glare over her menu. I smirk in return.

  She’s quiet while she searches for her meal. Once it’s decided, she shuts her menu and states, “I don’t do relationships, C.J. Not my thing. Hit it and quit. Fuck ‘em and forget ‘em is what I prefer.”

  And somehow I already knew that and still can’t stay away. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Alright, give me thirty days. Thirty days of dates and sex. Do that and at the end of it I’ll let you walk away. We can go back to being just friends or nothing at all.”

  Erin raises her eyebrows and lifts her wine glass. “Thirty days and you’ll just let me walk away?”

  “Yup.”

  “You really think it’s that easy to let me go?”

  “Erin, I’ve spent almost a year after you. I know damn well it’s not. But I also know I’d rather have had a piece of you than none of you at all.” She looks like the words touch her more than they should. Quickly she presses her lips to the glass to have another drink. “So give me thirty days to show you why walking away from me shouldn’t be as easy as you think it is.”

  The waiter appears beside our table, but neither of us breaks the eye contact we have. She wets her lips and let’s it curve into a seductive smirk. “You’ve got thirty days...”

  We both do. Because at the end of these thirty days, when I let her walk away I’m not sure I’ll be available even if she ever chooses to walk back. Not because I wouldn’t have her, but because asking her to walk away from her family isn’t something I would ever do.

  Dinner flows and so does the conversation. It’s flirty, fun, laid back and easy the way it always is between us. While we enjoy play fighting and witty banter, we also have a shared love of two things most people don’t realize. Classic 80’s music and the Food Network.

  She’s heavier on the food side, while I’m heavier on the music.

  “Tex-Mex is my thing. Wait until you have my sour cream enchiladas,” she giggles stroking her perfectly shaded tanned skin right above her tits, drawing my attention to where my fingers were touching just a couple hours ago. My member stirs to half-mast at the memory. “My parents first date was to a Tex-Mex restaurant. According to my mom, he was just going to order the fajitas; one of the only things he knew on the menu and she convinced him to order a stuffed pepper with cheese, this spicy green sauce and bacon...She said he did it because he wanted to impress her. But he always corrected her by saying he could never tell her no.”

  I know the feeling...

  Clearing my throat I hand the waiter the check. “What happened to your parents?”

  Erin’s face that had been warm and welcoming freezes like ice. Doing her best to look indifferent she answers, “Plane crash.”

  “Those aren’t super common…”

  “It happens more often with smaller luxury planes.” She glances off before she sighs, “Anyway, I was almost 17 when it happened. Luke fought for custody to help finish raising me. Not that there was a lot left to raise.”

  Curious I ask, “Have you ever been on a plane?”

  “When I was younger, we flew all over the place. Since then...haven’t even been near the airport.” Without letting me push on the subject anymore, she asks, “You ready to go?”

  I nod and toss my napkin on the table. My hand reaches for hers and, to my surprise, she lets our fingers fold together naturally. Enjoying the closeness, I pull her in tighter to me, the smell of her perfume sinking into my senses to make a permanent new home.

  Her scent up top is almost as intoxicating as the one below. Shit. One taste of her and now that’s all I can fucking think about.

  We stroll towards my car in no real rush. Since parking my own car wasn’t a real option at a nice restaurant where I was raised, I take joy in the simple action of doing it myself. After helping her get settled in my SUV I hop in, buckle up, and back out of the parking space. Once we’re on the road, Erin turns down the radio causing me to steal a glance of her.

  A look I recognize all too well is on her face. My body shifts in my seat.

  “So....you didn’t let me have dessert.” Her hand stretches, slides across my lap and right on top of my semi hard on that I was sporting from watching her readjust her lip gloss moments ago.

  Oh. What. What do you want me from me? She’s fucking gorgeous. Her mouth was open and my mind just kinda wandered in that direction.

  “Erin...”

  “I’m thinking...I want something hard to suck on.”

  That’s just...that’s not fair right now. Co-sign with me on that.

  My cock hardens to full force in her grip causing her to smirk proudly. As I pull up to the stop light, I look over at her, doing my best to hide my lack of self-control.

  I leave my eyes locked on hers while she unbuttons my jeans and unzips my pants, “But then again just getting my hands around something hard might be enough to feed my appetite.” Erin frees my dick and allows her warm hand to clamp firmly around it. A shudder runs through me at the first stroke and my eyes threaten to close when Erin whispers, “Lights green....”

  Fuck. Why am I driving?

  I groan and press my foot on the accelerator at the same time her thumb runs across my pre-come soaked barbell accessory. She gasps, “You have a dick piercing?”

  Trying to focus on the road, I let out a pleased sigh when she strokes me again. I struggle to reply, “Apadravya. Not just any dick piercing, baby.”

  Go big or go home.

  “I’ll say,” Erin increases the rhythmic stroking occasionally running her hand across the head of my dick and rolling the barbell around, increasing pleasure in the best jerking session I’ve ever had.

  My eyes threaten to close again and I grip the steering wheel tighter, growling through gritted teeth, “This doesn’t seem safe.”

  “What’s wrong, C.J.? Can’t multitask?”

  This woman is gonna be the death of me. Literally, when I crash this car, I can see the newspaper headline now. One of Country’s Top Lawyers dies in Car Crash Getting His Dick Stroked. What? Now’s not the time to discuss what words can and can’t run on the front page of the newspaper. A little busy here...

  “I’d just rather completely focus on your hand on my dick.” I groan out before moaning under my breath, “Fuck, Erin....”

  She increases the speed as it takes everything I have in me to concentrate on the road in front of me and not the way she’s alternating between increasing pressure and releasing it like some sort of sex pump designed to make a guy come after only a couple of rounds. Pulling into a parking space at my apartment complex, I’m grateful to finally be still long enough to enjoy the last of my hand job.

  The second I kill the engine Erin pumps me faster and my head hits the headrest on another groan, “Goddamn, Erin.”

  “That’s right,” her voice gives me a sultry whisper. The sound causes my dick to strain right on the brink of coming. Leaning over she says, “It’s me that you’re gonna come for...”

  Between her declaration of the only thing I want to do right now and her finger tips playing with my cock ring, I cave. My eyes roll back into my head as I let go and several hard hot bursts coat her finger tips creating a mess on my jeans like some 9th grader getting his dick rubbed for the first time.

  When I finally come down, I hear tiny giggles and look over to see Erin with a huge smirk leaning against the side of her door. Obviously satisfied she raises her eyebrow and pulls her keys out of her clutch. “Thanks for dessert.”

  With those words she slides out of my SUV and out of my vision leaving my mind in the same state she always does. Jumbled!

  If the next thirty days go any
thing like tonight, I know I’ll be happy to finally have been able to love the one woman I wanna spend the rest of my life with, but at the same time I know unlike when I ran away the last time there’s no where I can hide from the pain that I’m gonna feel losing her. Facts are facts. There’s nothing I can do that will make her stay. Even, if I didn’t have to go back to the land of old money bags. Even if I could stay, Erin would walk away from me because you heard her just like I did. She’s a fuck ‘em and forget ‘em kind of woman. I just hope that when I leave, she doesn’t completely forget me.

  Chapter 5

  Erin

  Adjusting my red pencil skirt, I walk out of my bedroom and into the kitchen where I see Maxx and Luke enjoying breakfast. I grab a cup of coffee and slide into my seat across from my brother at the kitchen table.

  As soon as I sit down he snidely says, “Don’t you have the glow of a million orgasms?”

  “Jealous?” I snip back.

  Maxx giggles and pushes her bowl of cereal away from her. “Is that why you’re basking? Did you get laid last night?”

  Before I have the chance to answer, Luke says, “Please spare us details if that’s the case. It’s too early to vomit the caffeine that hasn’t had a chance to settle in my system.”

  “I wanna point out you brought up orgasms, but you can relax, McPrude. I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t do on your 10th date.”

  “Ten dates, Luke? Ten dates before you let someone get in your pants?” Maxx squeaks.

  “Because I don’t just let any guy put his hands on my dick after a couple of dates makes me some sort of prude?”

  “Yes,” we respond in unison.

  “Really?” Luke shoots her a look and she chuckles. “This from the girl who—”

  “Nope,” Maxx points a finger at him. “This isn’t about me. And this isn’t about you. This is about your sister who is actively trying to change the subject away from herself because she clearly had some sort of hook up last night.”