Her Teddy Bear #2 (7 page)

Chad tapped away, smiling, then frowning, deliberating.

A few minutes later, I said, “What are you typing,
War and Peace
?”

He handed me back the phone. The message had already been sent to Trevor. I had thought Chad would compose the message for my approval, and I'd send it, but it was already gone.

But … I couldn't have done it better myself, really.

The text message simply read:

Hey, big guy. What are you wearing?

I set the phone on the table and we finished our lunch, both of us glancing over at the phone, waiting for Trevor to respond.

He didn't.

By Friday, I'd almost forgot all about Trevor. And by
almost
, I mean I'd stopped thinking about him for hours at a time, sometimes as long as three hours.

I was surprised when, at midnight Friday night, I got a text message from him.

It read:
Hey, why donit you come ovar?
(The two spelling mistakes should have been my first clue it was a drunk text.)

He sent me three more messages, each more insistent than the last, and his address.

I turned off my phone and climbed into my bed, with the grown-up, white sheets.

After a few minutes, I started to imagine what might happen if I went to his house. I remembered my first visit there, when he'd picked me up in the foyer and set my bum on a side table while he'd rubbed his bulge into my crotch, through my tights.

And then, later in his bedroom, on that magnificent King-sized bed. We locked together in reverse, with me on top and his dick in my mouth, my pussy in his, fitting together perfectly, giving and receiving pleasure simultaneously.

The heat between my legs grew more insistent. The house was quiet, and my door was shut, so I slipped one hand down under the covers and rubbed myself through my panties. It felt good to be touched, to be massaged.

I pushed the other hand down there, inside my panties, and wiggled my fingers around to get them wet. I pulsed my clit, fast then slow, thinking about Trevor. Nailing me in the show suite, on the dresser, as strangers were milling around downstairs. Trevor. Fingering me on my own desk, in my office, where I work, and making me come.

Unfortunately, my hands didn't have that same magic his did, and I couldn't get off. I rolled onto my stomach, driving my mound harder and harder into my fingers, but it only started to sting and not feel good. There was nothing I could do to give me the satisfaction I craved, so I rolled out of bed, threw on some clothes from the floor, and crept out of the house.

“This is crazy,” I told myself as I drove into the half-circle driveway that looped at the front of Trevor's huge house in the suburbs. “I should go home.”

Instead, I parked the car and walked up to his front door.

I didn't ring the doorbell, because the lights were out and I wasn't sure if his ex-wife was still staying at the house or not. I did
not
want to see her, not tonight, not with me in my sweatpants, there in the middle of the night for a booty call, of all the things.

I had texted Trevor when I got in my car, so he knew I was coming, and I texted him again.

Two long minutes later, he opened the door.

Completely naked.

With a semi-firm erection.

He threw the door open wide, for anyone to see, and said, “Naomi! You came over!”

“You're drunk.”

“I had a few.” He waved me in.

I came in, feeling both uncomfortable and a little excited. As he grabbed me and kissed me roughly, his penis got even more firm, pressing into my stomach. I grabbed his shaft with my hand and squeezed it. Oh, yeah, that was what I wanted.

He said, “You want some wine? You have to catch up with me. Come to my room! I have wine!”

“I bet you do.” I glanced around, annoyed to see women's shoes strewn about the foyer. His ex-wife. And where was she at the moment? In bed? Had she been responsible for his drunken state?

Trevor tried to pick me up, but I told him I didn't feel safe going up the stairs in his arms when he was inebriated.

“I'm not,” he pointed a finger at me, a wavering finger, “I'm not ineb-eb-eb-ated.”

I smacked him on the ass and said, “Let's see if you can still fuck when you're drunk.”

He gasped, his mouth making an exaggerated O shape. “Naomi! You are talking so dirty. I like you.” He nuzzled my hair and tried to kiss me.

I grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs.

True to his word, Trevor did have wine in his room. And beer. And scotch.

I didn't want to be stone-cold sober while he was having so much fun, so I poured a few glugs of scotch into a glass and tossed it back. And then again.

The scotch in my stomach radiated with warmth, filling me with golden light. I was starting to like scotch.

Trevor lay back on his bed, spread-eagle. “Come sit on me,” he said. “Sit anywhere.”

I poured some wine from the open bottle into a glass—his dresser had been turned into a makeshift bar, complete with an ice bucket, and some chips and pretzels—and had a sip.

Within a few minutes, I had a nice buzz, and Trevor's drunken actions weren't as comical, but seemed sweet and funny.

He stared, wide-eyed, as I stripped for him, peeling off my sweatpants, T-shirt, and sports bra as though they were made of silk and sequins.

“Damn,” he said, his deep voice sending shivers up and down my spine.

I climbed onto his four-poster bed from the bottom, and I remembered that thing he'd wanted me to do.

I turned around, showing him my ass, which he began to gratefully squeeze.

His feet were clean and smelled good, and the idea of making him moan sent more shivers through me. I deliberately ran my tongue along the top of his foot, through the dark curls, and then sucked the tip of his toe. He squirmed with pleasure underneath me.

“Damn.”

I sucked the toe harder, taking it all into my mouth. I was on my hands and knees, facing his feet, and at the same time, he moved one of his hands off my ass cheek and dragged a finger down my aching crease, through my opening and then under, to my clit. He was a little rough and clumsy, due to the drinks, but it was exactly what I was in the mood for.

He stroked away, moaning and squirming under me, and I sucked his toe like it was a cock.

After a few minutes, he roughly grabbed me by the legs and yanked me back. His toes (I was sucking several at a time) popped out of my mouth as he pulled my wet pussy up to his mouth. His tongue was hot, compared to his fingers, and the pressure was softer, but so good, and driving me crazy.

I'd been so focused on him that I'd barely noticed I was close to the edge, riding near the point of climax.

His eager cock was now directly under my face. I didn't waste any time licking around the head or teasing him. I just popped him in my mouth and started to suck, using one hand wrapped around the base to assist.

He moaned into my pussy and began to pulse my entire body back and forth, setting my rhythm.

It felt so good to have him in my mouth while he was licking my clit, so good, but that wasn't what I'd come over for.

I slowly dragged him out of my mouth and pulled myself out of his grasp. I turned around, threw my leg over his broad chest, and started to settle down on top of him, guiding his member into my opening.

“Wait,” he said.

I froze.

“I want to make love to you,” he said.

I inched down, my eyelids fluttering with pleasure as he filled me. “That's what we're doing.”

He grabbed me by the waist with his strong arms and easily lifted me off. I let him move me like a doll, positioning me on my back in the middle of the bed. He fussed around with the many pillows on the bed, tucking two under my hips and one under my back and head, so I was elevated.

He positioned himself over me, between my legs, and entered me in one movement.

The world lit up with color. He had so much red in the room. Red curtains, red pillows, red art on the wall. He moved out and then in again, and I reached up for him, pulling his chest close to mine. He let some of his weight come down onto me, squeezing me along my front, comforting me.

He continued to shift, back and forth, stroking deliciously in and out of me with that too-big cock that somehow magically fit in my petite body.

With all the pillows underneath me, our height difference didn't seem so odd at all. He curled forward and kissed me, breathing heavily now.

I opened my mouth wide and spread my legs wider at the same time. He pulled out, nibbled at my lips, then entered me, his cock and also his tongue. I opened wider, inviting more.

What happened next was dream-like. I lost the ability to think, to do anything but breathe and receive pleasure. He kept crashing into me, his cock relentless, desperate for me, and I had an orgasm, followed by another. Everything pooled together, and we were just bodies, joined. His fingers interlaced with mine, and as we kissed, he breathed out as I breathed in, both of us living off each other, sharing our heat, our energy.

He pulled away from my mouth suddenly and tilted his body up, pulling his sweating chest off mine. His body shook and his face tensed up as he came, flooding me with his hot seed.

I smiled as I pointed my toes, tensing under him.

When he stopped shuddering, he pulled himself out and fell to the bed beside me, breathing heavily.

I wiggled over to pull the pillows out from underneath myself, then I rolled onto my side and curled up next to him. I rested my cheek on his arm, drinking in the scent of his musk coming from his underarms.

After a moment, I sat up to kiss him, and when my lips met his, he stirred, pulling away. He wasn't aware of what was happening. The man was already asleep, or passed out.

I rolled away, over to a dry spot of the bed, feeling sticky from the sweat all over me. I had some of his chest hairs down my front, stuck to me. I half-laughed at the hairs as I got up and went to his deluxe bathroom.

I rinsed off in his shower, luxuriating under the multiple streams of water. As I got his scent off me, I began to think more clearly. Why the hell had I come over? Were we back together, or was this simply what it looked like, a booty call?

After the shower, I stood at the foot of his bed, staring at the big, furry man in his big bed. He stirred in his sleep, grabbing at the cover on the bed and dragging it over himself, nearly covering all of him. I went to his side and coaxed him around so I could get the covers out from under him and then over him. He curled up and smiled in his sleep, looking so sweet and innocent.

I leaned down and kissed him on his cheek, then put on my clothes, and showed myself out.