Priest (A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Love Story) (52 page)

He moved slowly, then, until my body
stopped shaking and when it did I felt his pace quickening again. He leaned
down and kissed me and sucked on my lips and tongue as his cock drove into me
faster and more urgently. I could tell he was getting close so I arched my back
and held my hips up off the bed to allow him better access. He took it a step
further by lifting first one of my legs and then the other and laying them on
his shoulders. He pounded into me, then, so deeply that the sound of our flesh
slapping together was the loudest thing in the room. I felt like my pussy was
on fire when his cock stiffened and his muscles tensed and then he let out a
deep groan and all at once his body fell limply on top of mine.

After a few seconds he said, “Can you
breathe?”

“No,” I whispered. “But I don’t care.” He
laughed and rolled over.

I felt him fall out of me and then watched
as he rolled off the full condom and leaned off the side of the bed, tossing it
into a can near the nightstand. He rolled back toward me and collapsed back on
the bed once again. We lay there quietly for a while, getting our breathing
under control and listening to the beating of our own hearts. After some time I
felt him reach over and drape his arm across my belly and around my waist. I
thought he was pulling me to him for a cuddle, but boy was I wrong. He flipped
me over with one hand and then wiggled himself down so that his face was
underneath me. He stuck out his tongue and pressed it flat against my clit. I
pulled my knees up against my sides so that he could reach it better. He played
with my clit and it felt so good that I wanted to scream. He was moving his
tongue in circles but not lifting it up off me at all. The entire time that he
wiggled it back and forth, he was pressing down on it as well. He had me driven
into a state of frenzy, one where nothing else mattered besides pure pleasure.
I was so excited that he had to hold on to my hips to keep me from pulling
away. It was the kind of pleasure that was so intense it was almost too much to
stand.

 
He
did that for a few minutes before at last releasing the pressure on my clit and
sliding his tongue all the way down my slit from top to bottom. His face was
buried up against me and he shoved his tongue up inside me and that time I did
scream, and my body experienced the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had. While I
was still limp and shaking, he rolled me off him and then wiggled us around so
that he had my writhing, sweaty body wrapped up in his arms.

When I could finally speak again I said,
“That was…Oh my God! I have no words for it!”

I felt his body give a little shake. His
face was buried in my hair and I could feel his warm breath on the back of my
neck. I was so satiated and comfortable I had to physically shake myself to
keep from falling asleep.

He pulled his face back, then, and
laughed. “What was that?” he said.

“I don’t want to fall asleep and be here
naked and make a bad impression if your sister comes home.” He laughed again
and pulled me tighter up against him. After a while his breathing was so deep
and so even that I was afraid he had fallen asleep. “Paul?”

“Yes?”

“Are you asleep?”

He laughed. “No.”

“I should put my clothes in the dryer
before someone comes home.” I felt him nod against me but he didn’t loosen his
grip at all. Another five or ten minutes passed and I said, “Paul?”

“Yes?”

“Are you going to let me up so I can put
my clothes in the dryer?” I felt him push against the back of my leg, then, his
cock was hard as a rock again.

“I’d rather not,” he said. Then he rolled
back and rolled me over so I was facing him. He kissed me again, but this one
was different. It wasn’t passionate or hungry, it was soft and sweet and I
loved it. “Go put your clothes in the dryer,” he said.

I slid my lips from his down to his neck
and kissed him. He groaned as I found a sweet little spot to nibble on. I
sucked a piece of it into my mouth and as I held it softly between my teeth I
flicked my tongue quickly back and forth against it. After a minute or two of that,
I slid my lips down a little farther and dragged them across his chest, pausing
to flick each nipple with my tongue. His nipples were as erect as mine were and
when I licked them, he shivered and groaned. Then as I made my way down to his
hard abs he said in a deep, husky voice,

“I thought you were going to put your
clothes in the dryer.”

“In a minute…or two…” I told him just
before my lips reached his cock.

“Oh fuck!” I felt the muscles in his
thighs get hard as I held on to them and engulfed the head of his cock. I ran
my tongue all around the rim of it and then I sucked on it…just the head. I
could tell by the sounds he was making that he liked it and that made me happy.
After a second I began to take the shaft in a little at a time, teasing him still
with my tongue as I went along until he couldn’t stand it any longer and he
finally grabbed two handfuls of my hair and held my head in place while he
thrust his hips up off the bed. As he bucked his hips, I sucked and ran my
tongue up and down the length of his cock, feeling the bulging veins along the
sides and delighting in the fact that I had done this to him…twice in one day.

I pushed myself up on my knees so that I
was straddling his legs and he was trapped. Then I opened my mouth as wide as I
could and I helped myself to all of him, sucking as hard as I could once I felt
him hit the back of my throat. His fingers were still tugging at my hair and I
could even feel them digging into my scalp. I pulled my head up and lunged down
harder and then I did it again…and again until he was crying out, “Oh shit! Oh
fuck! Oh, baby! I’m coming, Jessie, fuck, baby!” He tried to pull me off him
but I felt him grow and swell and I didn’t want to ruin it for him. I’d never
done this before, but I’d never been so determined to make a man feel good in
my life. I nursed him through it, not taking my lips off until he was
completely empty. When he finally relaxed I lifted my head up and looked at
him. His blue eyes were wide and he had an expression on his face that I couldn’t
quite read. I didn’t need to, though, because a few seconds later he pulled me
back up on top of him and kissed me until no words were necessary.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

Paul got in the shower while I put my
clothes in the dryer and then I got in when he got out. The easy, playful
feeling that had been between us just before and just after we slept together
was gone and had been replaced with a somewhat awkward silence. I guess that’s
the problem with sleeping with someone you hardly know, you’re left with so
many questions. When my clothes were dry I put them on and he said,

“My nephew will be home in about an hour.
Do you want me to drive you home, or back to the gym?”

I didn’t really want to be seen back at
the gym looking like I just took a shower. I loved my friends, but the second
they saw me getting out of Paul’s truck in the condition I was in, the rumors
would begin to fly. “My apartment is fine. I’ll call one of the girls for a
ride to work tomorrow. We’re probably just going to be doing clean-up all day
anyways.”

Once we were in the truck I told him how
to get to my apartment and then we drove in silence again. I sat wondering what
that day meant…if anything, and where we were going to go from there…if
anywhere. I also wished that I knew what he was thinking. Was he sorry that
we’d had sex? Did he regret having sex with me knowing that he’d have to see me
nearly every day while he was at the gym working out? I wasn’t as brave as I’d
been earlier…I couldn’t bring myself to ask him. Maybe it was because I was
worried about what the answer would be. Maybe he was the love ’em and leave ’em
type. Maybe he had a lot of sex with a lot of women with no intentions of ever
getting into a relationship. Maybe if I asked him if we were in some kind of
“relationship”, he was going to think I was desperate and ridiculous. The worst
part was that then I’d still have to look at him every day and hope that he
didn’t tell anyone else.

I just couldn’t turn off my head and all
of the questions. Why isn’t this gorgeous man in a relationship at twenty-six
years old? Wouldn’t that in itself have been an indication to me before I went
and slept with him that he either doesn’t believe in relationships or he’s such
a wrecked, troubled person that no woman can stand him long enough? I mean, I
don’t even know this guy, really. What I do know about him is that he’s angry a
lot and he likes to fight. I don’t only know the bad things, though. I know
that he takes care of his sister and his nephew too. I wish I only knew the
good or the bad at this point. Knowing both only complicated things, for me
anyways. A “normal” person might not have all this angst. Relationships were
not my strong suit. I’m attracted like a magnet to men who had problems. I
honestly don’t go into the relationship thinking I’m going to “fix” him, but
once I’m in it and I find out he’s broken, I have a hard time walking away.
That would even be okay if I had a history of any luck “fixing them.” We both
just end up broken by the time it finally ends.

Maybe when Yolanda picks me up for work in
the morning I should talk to her about it. First of all, I should find out if
he’s a player. Has he already slept with all the single women at the gym?
Second, I need someone to help me decide whether or not I’m attracted to this
guy because he has problems. My last relationship was fraught with enough
problems to last a lifetime. I just don’t want to do that again.

When we got to my apartment I expected him
to leave the truck running and let me jump out. Instead, he shut off the truck
and got out and walked me to the door. It was things like that that confused
me. He hardly talked, yet when he did he was articulate and usually polite. He
was a wild man in the cage but in bed that day he’d been sweet and gentle and
attentive…

“Do you need a ride to work tomorrow? I
wouldn’t mind picking you up—”

“No!” Dang it! I said that too fast. It
was rude. “I mean, no, thank you. Yolanda and I have some things we need to
talk about so I think I’ll just ask her. She won’t mind.”

“All right, I guess I’ll see you later,”
he said. It was awkward and uncomfortable. Was I supposed to kiss him? Was he
going to kiss me?

“Okay, thanks.”
For the ride? The sex?

“Yeah, you too.”
Me too what?

I unlocked my door and turned to watch him
leave before going inside. Once I was in I closed the door and leaned up
against it. Damn! What did I get myself into?

I went over and took out my laptop. I
signed into my You Tube account and typed in MMA and Paul Delport. There were a
lot of videos going back to 2009. I clicked on one of the most recent ones and
watched it. He was incredible. He was so fast that his opponent needed a lot of
luck just to be able to catch up with him and connect a punch. I watched
another one and found myself in awe of the power behind his punches and his
kicks. There was no throwing it here and there and hoping it landed. Every
punch and every kick was perfectly timed and infused with power and control. I
was completely surprised at myself for finding it so sexy. Truth be told, so
far I hadn’t found anything about him that I didn’t find sexy.

I shut off the videos and sat there
thinking about our afternoon together. Maybe we only had sex because I’d
basically thrown myself at him. “Go with your impulses,” I had said. Could I
really blame our time together that day on him being a player? It didn’t seem
like he’d been trying to lure me back to his place for sex. When he had gone
with his impulses like I’d told him to, his touches had been so far removed
from what I watched him do in the cages last night and what I’d seen him do in
these videos. He was still great at it and experienced without a doubt, but
there was no hint of anger or aggression or control there. He was a true enigma
and I hated to admit it, but that made me want him even more.

I forced myself to try and think about
something else. I finally had a day off and my paycheck should have gone into
the bank that day. I picked up my phone and googled “washing machine repair.” I
got like two million hits in the city. I blindly picked one and called him.

“Hal’s appliance repair.”

“Hi, I have a washing machine that I need
to have fixed.”

“What’s wrong with it?” the guy on the
other end asked me.

I laughed and said, “Well, I was hoping
you could tell me.”

He laughed too and said, “Yeah, you would
think, right?” He laughed again and said, “I meant to ask what is it doing, or
not doing?”

“Oh yeah, sorry. It doesn’t agitate or
spin at all. It just fills up with water and then just sits there. I had to
bail the water out with a pot because it was just sitting there and starting to
smell.”

“Okay, I have a few ideas,” he said. I
hoped they were inexpensive ideas. “I can come by around three today if someone
is going to be there.”

“Three is good. Thanks!”

I hung up after giving him my address and
my thoughts instantly returned to Paul. I was sure he had problems…he had to.
He told me about his sister and how she’d done some of what she did just
because she was rebellious. He told me himself…at least he hinted at the fact
that he didn’t have a good relationship with his dad. That’s usually a good
clue, the parental relationship. My last boyfriend hated his mother. I found
out late it was because she was a religious fanatic and she used to constantly
tell him that he was going to hell every time he did something wrong. I felt
bad for him when I found that out and I realized that was probably the source
of his problem. He was an alcoholic. He was twenty-seven years old and had
health problems like a fifty-year-old because of it. He was in and out of trouble
because of it and I had to drive us everywhere we went toward the end because
he had so many DUIs that they took his license away.