Dodging Trains (18 page)

KEYON

I
’ve been on a one-track rail
to landing Paislee in my bed since she got off the plane. Not that it’s been planned, but I convinced her that Pizza Pazza in Tampa is better than Mamma Lucia’s in Calceth. I told her about Simon during dinner, one thing led to another, and here I am unlocking the door to my duplex and letting her enter first.

She hasn’t commented on how we took my car from her hotel, how she’s basically dependent on me and my whims. But hey, I’m fucked too; it wasn’t my choice to have someone fill my head, and I didn’t ask that person to come to Florida.

We haven’t talked about tomorrow’s schedule, but I’m going to the rich dude’s house with her. He could be a total freak for all I know, so she’s not facing him alone.

“Oooh,” she whispers through a reverent puff of air like she’s never seen a cat before. Simon’s playing it up too, slinking around the corner with all the grace in the universe, stroking the doorjamb with a hip before he meanders over to us. “He’s soooo beautiful.”

“He’s just a regular old black street cat,” I say, but by the wink she shoots me, she doesn’t buy it. She read me back when too. “’Kay, fine: Simon’s awesome. Straight up the best pelt ever.”

“Pelt? You ass,” she giggles as she pets him from the top of his head and down the length of his body to his tail. Simon lifts it, happy. Any minute now, he’ll crank the volume on his purr-machine.

“Wow, he purrs loud.”

And there. For a cat, he’s being unexpectedly predictable.

“He loves the ladies,” I say, which makes her giggle more. I love to make her giggle. When she stands up again, I pull her in with one arm, fingers splayed across her spine. Firm breasts press against me, and I groan a little.

She puffs another laugh, all Simon’s fault. He’s gotten to the part of the agenda where he’s going to cramp my style. His purrs reach us from the floor, and he’s scissoring in and out between both of our legs.

“Never mind him. Look at me,” I whisper. Let my thumb and forefinger slide over her chin. The amusement recedes from her eyes when she sees that I mean business. I’m hardening. She yelps. Then she laughs out loud.

“Simon, quit it!” I say, exasperated, and bend to unhook his claws from the fabric over her knees. “I’m sorry. You see how it is now, right? Simon’s the ass in this house. I should sell him to the highest bidder. Fifty cents flat will do. Come to think of it—I’ve got fifty cents in my pocket,” I say, kissing her down the corridor. “I could pay someone to take him. ‘Perfectly good cat with a year’s worth of free cat food.’”

Obviously, I’m digging my own grave here. There’s no hot lovemaking when your girl’s laughing so hard she’s about to pee herself.

“Oh my God! Poor kitty. Simon, you should come live with me. Your daddy’s a lunatic.”

Simon hasn’t taken the hint. He’s now on the bed I’m trying to steer her toward, tail high and with bright eyes staring at us.

“Simon. Out!”

“Oh poor baby, don’t say that? He can be here too,” she says. I groan and glare at my roommate, who mewls prettily in response.

“But he blocks cocks. And doesn’t let girls sleep.” My own voice sounds hopeful on the last sentence. Maybe she’ll allow me to lock him out now? “We could give him some extra nice wet food out there in the kitchen, and…”

Paislee nudges me in the stomach, and I let her tip me to the bed. “You’re exaggerating. I’m sure we’ll manage. How bad can it get?”

“Bad,” I murmur as she crawls up over me and settles in on top of my crotch. I thrust my pelvis up, showing her how ready I am. She gasps, and—

Simon trots slowly over my chest, tail brushing her nose in one long caress during the whole crossing.

Paislee plops down over me, body trembling with laughter. “Wow, he really is something else.”

“Hey,” I say, cupping her head and tucking my nose in against her neck. “I’m going to lock him out now, okay? Then we can open for him later so he can make sure girls don’t sleep. All right?”

“I have no idea what that means, but I’m beginning to think I should trust you.”

“Never been a better moment.”

Once the door is closed, she looks different. She’s not as playful anymore and the color of her eyes seem lighter to me. She’s not laughing. Not inviting or seductive. No, Paislee’s fidgeting with the comforter as if she’s not a hundred percent sure about this.

There’s a small growl breeding in my throat at her expression; feminine indecision is the single hottest thing in the world, and I see it so rarely. My balls draw up in anticipation. I drop my pants to the floor and watch her eyes grow wider with trepidation. It’s not fear though. I think? Anticipation, for sure. She’s huffing out small pants, which make her chest rise and fall quickly.

I hunch down in front of her. Reach a finger out and draw her V-neck low. She squirms a little, shouldering me away, but I grab around her middle and invade her mouth with my tongue.

“You okay, baby?” I sigh out.

“Keyon…”

I suck another kiss to her mouth, hard, causing her body to give against me. She falls back on her elbows, head high and lips accepting mine with each rough kiss. God, her mouth is so delicious, I sound like I’m eating her. I sort of am. Shit, and I want to eat more of her.

“What is it?” I ask about her hesitation. “Do you have your period? I don’t mind a little ketchup on my sausage,” I pant out, grinding my hips into her and making her breathing stutter.

Hottest thing ever.

“No, I just… Take it easy on me?”

I’m busy pulling her top over her head, eyes glued to round breasts through a transparent bra. Oh fuck me, it’s got some sort of pattern on it—her nipples—

“You were saying?” I press my hands flat against her stomach, pressing her into the mattress for the sheer joy of feeling her flesh tighten in my hands. It’s scorching from having been hidden under that sweater. I bend down to nibble on her belly. I kiss more, mumble about how hot she is, how much I want her.

“Keyon! I said, ‘take it easy on me.’ You’re… you’re…”

I sit up and stare at her. I have no idea what she’s talking about. Her body’s trapped between my legs. I’ve got her where I want her, exactly how I want her, only her pants need to go too.

Her breath is still so fast. I do enjoy a little bit of concern from a girl, but is that panic in her eyes?

I let go of my hold on her wrists. Run a finger from her ear and down the middle of her body to her belly button. It takes a moment for me to say the next words. They’re there, but I don’t like how they make me feel. I finally say them anyway. “Are you afraid of me, Paislee?”

“No. No, not afraid.” Her lungs pump out air so fast it can’t be healthy.

“Stop. You’re hyperventilating. Why? Have I ever hurt you?”

And then just like that, she bursts into tears.

I groan, slump on my back next to her, and cover my eyes with an arm. “What’s going on? I don’t get it.”

“It’s not you. Well, it is, but— Keyon, has no one told you you’re a bit much when you make love to a girl? At least with me, you are. You—”

I’m quiet, waiting, because what am I supposed to say? Love
is
violent. It’s a fight. It’s submission. I’m the victor, the man left standing when the woman crumbles in orgasm after orgasm beneath me while I drive into her with my last big effort and hit the mother lode of reliefs myself. I thought she knew how it works with guys.

“How many men have you slept with, Paislee?” I ask.

She stiffens next to me. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just tell me.”

“How many women have
you
slept with, dick!”

I shrug against the pillow and let my arm slide off my face to glance at her. “Can’t say I’ve counted.”

“That many, huh?” she spits. It surprises me.

“Really? You’re upset over the potentiality that I’ve slept with a lot of women?”

“Haven’t you?”

“Fine, I’ll make a guess. I’d say somewhere between fifty and a hundred.”

“Jesus, Keyon. You’re a slut.”

That makes me laugh. Her small hand runs over my stomach, feeling it shake beneath her fingers. She trails down the curls leading to the elastic of my briefs. I stop laughing and hiss in a breath as she slowly lifts it and lets in air.

“Can we do it my way?” she asks quietly.

My eyes pop open. I’m feeling good, very good, and I’m close to that stage where a guy’s about to agree to anything in order to get wet. “What, you want me to leave you in charge?”

“Please? I want to show you.”

My dick twitches at the thought of being
shown
stuff. My brain’s still not sure. The urge to win her over—win
over
her—wars with a few gentlemanly brain cells telling me to listen up and let the lady have her way.

I groan again. Jut my hips up for more of her dainty fingers on me.

“Let me please you,” she whispers, and that does it, because who says no when a girl asks permission to fucking
please
you?

“Do it. Please, please me.” I shove a pillow under my neck and lace my hands behind my head for a prime view of her activities. She smiles a vixen smile, lashes lowered and the tip of her tongue poised between her teeth. She looks mischievous. Not leery anymore. And she’s so damn sexy I grunt when she pulls my briefs off, braces her hands against my hips, and lowers her head over my cock.

“Take your bra off,” I demand. She has no problem obeying, and I realize I’ve found another way to control the love fight. Damn it’s nice when she obeys.

“Show me your boobs,” I whisper, my voice already rough. She bites her lip and holds them close on her chest, pushing them up. “Your nipples, baby. Squeeze them for me.”

She does, and I fist myself. Pull on my swollen member and watch her gaze heat and trail to my lewd actions. “Let me relieve you.”

I pull myself up by the stomach, still clenching my cock and staring into her eyes. “Lose the rest of your clothes first, Paislee. I need to see all of you.”

She stands, shameless, and wiggles her hips out of her jeans. Her pussy is the smallest triangle of black fur calling to me.

“Get
on
the bed,” I say. She crawls up, misunderstanding. “No, stand up. Give me the best view a man can have.”

Her breath does a quick stutter again—seems she likes it when I talk dirty. I’ll remember that for when I’m pushing her over the edge. Fuck yeah, I’ll have her screaming.

Paislee gets up and balances precariously on the soft pillow top, naked and beautiful, thighs trembling as she steps up my body with a foot on each side. She doesn’t stop until she’s over my shoulders, just where I want her. I grab her calves and slide upward until I clasp her right above her knees. I wish I could reach the soft folds above me.

“Ah you’re gorgeous. Look at you,” I whisper. “Open for me.”

“Open?”

I’m sure she understands what I mean, so I just nod my encouragement once. And there it is, white fingers spreading herself carefully above me, revealing pretty pink that’s already moist.

“Hot damn,” I say, stroking myself and looking. “Sink down over me.”

She tries to scoot down, but I grab her legs again and push against the back of her knees. “I want a taste, sweetheart.”

“Geez,” she manages. Then she does what I want. Drops to her knees and presses her sweetness in over my face.

The fire rises in me. My fingers bite into her ass and force her against my mouth. I want to devour her whole, lick and suck every fold, every slick, fragrant surface of her until she quakes over me and I’m roaring with the need to push inside her.

“No… stop.”

Stop?

“Fuck no, not stopping,” I heave out.

“No, I mean—can you be more careful?”

My hands freeze on her butt. Slowly, my sexed-out mind catches what she’s saying. I loosen my grip on her, but my breath increases exponentially, because—

Frustration.

I don’t understand. She’s not going to let this happen, is she?

Her hips rock slowly over me, her cleft working my mouth. I lap tentatively and draw a happy sigh from her. She lowers herself a little more, allowing more contact between us. Okay… she’s enjoying this.

I suck her clit into my mouth but keep it gentle. She shudders a good shudder. I fold my arms around the small of her back and pull her down to me. The tug is a bit hard, it seems, because she stiffens in my arms at first. Then she slides down over me, leaving a moist path and raising chills on my body until she blankets me.

Before I know what’s happening, I’m inside her. I squeeze my eyes shut, enduring the pleasure and throbbing for more. “Oh baby…”

“Good?” she asks at my ear. I lock her in my arms and move with her, allowing her to set our speed.

“So. Good.” I sound choked, and it’s the way she clamps around me that does it. There’s no speed, no battle of wills, no force, chasing an orgasm. It’s still damn amazing. Especially when she hooks me deep inside her body and slides so far down I can’t—even—

“Fuck. Paislee?”

“Keyon…”

“Shit, I think I’m about to lose it.”

“I can feel it.”