#Score (12 page)

R
amona

O
kay
, so the thing happened. The thing where I open my mouth and let crazy words come out of them, directing them specifically at Benji, happened. And the craziest part of all? He actually agreed. How did this even happen?

I retrace the steps in my head while he’s busy in the kitchen cooking something for us to eat. Playing it cool is obviously the key thing here, because I’m clearly about to lose my mind. I’m really going to have sex with Benji, this is the thing that’s happening. But when is it happening? I probably should have figured that out with him first. I mean of course it can happen tonight. It could happen five minutes from now.

Wait, five minutes from now? Did I think this through? Oh my God, I need to stop freaking out. I imagine Jas’s voice in my head telling me that I’m an idiot and I need to calm the hell down because I do, I really,
really
do.

I’ll just take a step back, let out a deep breath that I didn’t realize I was holding, and briefly close my eyes. No, no, this isn’t working. I think about what I put on today, what I’m wearing. Plain old boring tan panties and a plain old boring bra that matches. Plus I’m pretty sure I didn’t put on any deodorant today. So that’s a bust. I briefly debate whether I should give him the slip and jog back over to my apartment to fix these things in case other things are going to transpire tonight, but I realized I can play the long game here. I can keep control of myself and not have any more of these crazy outbursts. I can come across to Benji as calm and collected as I want to be. Whether it’s the truth or not, that’s a different story.

“Okay, so I’ve got some leftover spaghetti, and . . . sandwiches. Choose wisely,” Benji calls from in the kitchen.

I can’t even think about eating at a time like this, but I tell him a sandwich because spaghetti sounds way heavier on my stomach, and with all the butterflies that are flittering around, bumping into each other, that would make for a giant mess.

Everything that we have agreed to so far is for the best, and I will tell myself that until my dying breath. There’s no need to involve the feelings, all the mess of drama that comes between two people who like each other and have sex. We most certainly can be adults about this, have sex, and get over it, especially with the three-week break from each other while Benji’s playing three different away games in three different states. That’ll help tremendously, I’m sure. Once he comes back? It’ll be all normal, everything will return to the way it was, and even better, both of us will be able to regain our focus and not be so pent up inside.

The sexual energy that flows between the two of us is intense, and we haven’t even done much besides kissing, so I can only imagine what the rest of it will be like.

In fact, I have imagined it, countless times so far. I don’t mean to get myself going, but it’s hard not to when all I can think about is the way Benji’s mouth trailed up my neck, the way his hands firmly grabbed my ass. Those aren’t things you can easily forget.

Yes, it’s definitely for the better, and I’m not playing myself whatsoever here. I might as well enjoy whatever’s about to happen between us while I can.

Benji pops back into the room with a bowl of spaghetti for himself and a double-decker sandwich for me. “That’s a lot of sandwich. What did you put on it?”

Benji rolls his eyes. “Have faith, Cinnamon. I know my way around a sandwich, thank you very much.”

I’m not exactly an adventurous eater, but I shrug my shoulders and accept my food thankfully. “All right. I place my faith in you. As long as there isn’t dog food or bones from some dead cat outside in it, I think I’ll be okay.”

Benji smacks his head. “Dammit, I forgot about those bones. Maybe I should take the plate back, just in case.”

I smile at him because it seems to be one of the only things I can do nowadays. “Back to the whole . . . previous thing we discussed.”

“Previous thing? You mean the part where you demanded that I lay with you in my bed and have intimate relations? That part?”

I screw my mouth to the side and take a bite of sandwich, not sure how he can keep a straight face. “Yes,
that
thing. When were you wanting to go through with it?”

Surprisingly enough, Benji doesn’t immediately blurt out an answer. “I was thinking about it. I’ll be leaving next Monday for a three-week away game schedule. We’ll be heading out to Portland, then Toronto, then Orlando. We won’t be coming back until after those three weeks are up so . . . why don’t we plan our little fun time for this weekend?”

This weekend? It’s too far away, it’s too soon, it’s too everything—but it’s perfect at the same time. “Okay. That settles it. Should we maybe do something beforehand though? I mean now that I’m thinking about it, it just seems so . . .”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. We could always do something fun beforehand. What do you like to do for fun?”

We both laugh at this because duh, what do I do for fun? Not really much of anything except for painting. “I can’t really think of anything . . .” I say, but then something sparks in my brain, a piece of conversation I overheard the other day at the café. I bite my lip and hope I don’t sound like a complete dork. “I kind of have an idea. Just go with me on this, okay?”

* * *

“
W
ell that
. . . was quite possibly the weirdest fucking thing I’ve ever done in my life. I’ve got to hand it to ya, Cinnamon, when you said something fun and different, I wasn’t exactly expecting all this.” Benji waves his arm around at the crowd of people in front of us as we exit the theater, covered in water, crumbs from toast, and some other sort of things that I still can’t figure out what they might be. I laugh at him, a giggle bubbling up my throat from the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“You know I always hear my friends talking about this in art school, how cool it is to go to one of those Rocky Horror Picture Shows and experience the live theater where they throw toast and spray water at you and stuff like that. It was pretty cool and all, but now I just feel dirty and gross and kind of need a shower.”

Benji wiggles an eyebrow at me. “Maybe I could help with that?”

It’s a damn good thing that I just drank two shots of some of the liquor they were passing around the theater, no matter that it probably was laced with who knows what, because I’m pretty sure I would’ve fainted at the mere mention of showering with Benji if I hadn’t. “I’m game if you’re game.”

For the very first time since we met months ago, Benji takes my hand in his, swinging it this way and that, and then pulls me in under the shade of a nearby awning from a vintage bookstore next to the theater. This is one of those moments that I know I’ll never forget, not ever. And when he cups my face ever so carefully, rubbing his thumbs across the corners of my mouth and pushing me up against the bookstore wall, I know I would never want to. Benji’s lips touch mine and I crumble into a million pieces.

B
enji

I
knew
I couldn’t keep it together. Not when I had to wait those long two days until the big one—today, the day I’m finally going to experience Ramona in the way I’ve always wanted to. Inside out.

The kiss should be prepping me for what’s to come, I should be using it as a showcase to prove to her all of the things I know about women, like the way they sigh when you touch the creases of their hips. Or the way they softly moan when you’re rubbing their back and your fingers just
happen
to slide across the sides of their round tits.

But that’s not what’s happening here. What’s happening is Ramona’s tongue tastes like forbidden candy, hot and sugary. It’s working against mine, showing me that she’s a damn fine kisser.
Please, I beg you God. Please let this only be the beginning.

When she pulls back, breathless, her kiss-drunk eyes slide over the rest of me before she realizes we’re in public and there are still people milling around from inside the theater. “We need to go. Now.”

It was a very, very stupid idea to not drive out here myself because when we call an Uber, I’m ready to take her right there in the backseat, driver or not. Ramona must see the desperation in my eyes because she squeezes my hand, biting her lip and soothing the spot with her soft tongue. She might think she’s making it better, but she’s only making it that much worse.

Now I’m cursing the fucking city for putting the theater fifteen miles from my apartment, in the middle of L.A. traffic, no less. Ramona’s staring so hard at me, not saying a word. How am I only just now seeing the sexy black skirt she’s wearing? The thin gray tank top she’s wearing isn’t exactly note-worthy, but the fact that she’s wearing a black lacy bra underneath is. Inside, I’m bouncing around like a kid that’s dying to get a bike for his birthday, and his parents roll out a huge wrapped bike-shaped present. With a big red bow tied around it.

The next twenty-three minutes go by slow like molasses, and then we’re out of the car, Ramona thanking the driver, who looks perplexed, and me just trying to get the fuck out of the car as fast as I can.
Sorry man, but I’ve got way, way better things to get to.

I grab her hand hard, yanking her behind me because she’s not walking fast enough, not when I know what’s going to happen as soon as I get her inside my place. I turn my head toward her and grin, not wanting her to think I’m being some kind of lunkhead. The smirk she gives me is enough of a promise that I rush to the elevator, aching to touch her. But of course there’s a small family hopping in right after us, going to the floor only right below mine.
Of fucking course you couldn’t have gotten on the completely empty one, could you?
Ramona doesn’t let go of my hand though and squeezes it again, smiling as she looks over the head of the middle-aged lady in front of her.

I squeeze her hand back as the elevator makes its way up to the seventh floor. Fifth floor. Sixth floor. The family gets out and the door shuts, my arm immediately slinging around her small waist, pulling her against me. So close.

The door opens again and she giggles when I practically run down the hall, keys already in hand. With each step and each click of a lock sliding out of place, my cock twitches.

Ramona lets out a soft sigh when I push the door open. We somehow calmly walk inside and I’m even able to shut the door and lock it back up without immediately pushing her up against the wall and hiking her skirt up and . . .

Nope, I take it back. Ramona flies into my arms, pressing herself up against me and my bulging jeans. I know I’m not imagining the way she grinds against me, kissing me with a kind of force that surprises me, coming from a small frame like hers. I push back and I’m walking her backwards until her back hits the backside of the couch. Her hands are everywhere all at once on me, frantically trying to pull the bottom of my shirt up and over my head, and her fingers spreading out across the expanse of my abdomen. Nails drag down the lower part of my back as her hands slide around me, slipping underneath my pants and past the waistband of my underwear. She grabs my ass hard enough for me to know there will be little half-moon shapes embedded in my ass cheeks later.
Fucking hell
. She’s feisty. It’s like she’s turned into someone else, someone I think I’m really going to like.

But then she’s undoing my pants, yanking them down, dropping to her knees between me and the couch behind her. No, no, no—this is supposed to be my first move. I’m the one who has the control. And I’m gladly handing it over to her temporarily as Ramona slowly pulls my underwear down, gasping as my thick cock springs free, pulsing only mere inches away from her face.

“I knew you were pretty big . . . but I don’t know how you’re going to fit that all anywhere inside of me,” she says with a sincere tone. Most girls will try and pull that shit with me, knowing that’s what guys want to hear, but I can tell she means it. Ramona’s a petite girl. Her slim hips and waist tell me it’s going to be a nice, tight squeeze.

“Where there’s a will,” I say, my voice breaking as I feel her warm breath across my skin. “I will make a fucking way.”

She smiles up at my answer and wraps her hands around my veiny length, needing both to make a solid circle around it. Her strokes are slow, teasing. But her mouth . . . warm, soft, and very powerful. I tangle my hands in her pretty dark hair and yank it up, loving the hissing noise she makes as I force her to look up at me, holding my gaze until she begins to suck my cockhead like fucking crazy, swirling her sweet little tongue all around it while she keeps pumping my stalk.

Those slurping noises are driving me crazy for more. “You really know your way around a dick,” I say, testing the waters with her.

“Added bonus for you, no?” she says, her voice soft and sultry in a way I’ve not heard before.

I chuckle because it’s just such a Ramona thing for her to say even with my dick in her mouth. “Big bonus. The biggest. Fuck yes,” I reply. She’s trailing her fingers downwards until she cups my balls in her hand, kneading them firmly. Most girls don’t even bother, and when they do, their touch is too light. But not hers.

She never takes those brown eyes of hers off me, and I don’t expect to get as into it as I do because I need to take her, not the other way around. I let her suck me off until I know I have to pull back if I want to last long enough to fuck her pussy. And that’s the name of the game tonight.

Of course I plan on attending to all of the other parts of her first . . . I have Ramona to myself all fucking night long, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing. All. Night. Long. I don’t care if we’re exhausted three hours from now, I don’t care if I’m shooting blanks. I will be filling every part of her up with my needy cock and not pulling out until the sun starts to come out again tomorrow.

I slip out of my shoes and the clothes piled around my ankles, standing in front of her completely naked with my cock glistening with her spit and standing proudly out. “Oh, this isn’t fair,” I say, cornering her back up against the couch. “Why am I the only one naked?”

She smiles wide, starting to pull her tank top off but I catch her wrist, pinning it and her other one behind her easily.

“We’re going to play a game. It’s called ‘can Benji get Ramona naked without her moaning first.’ I think you’ll really like it,” I say, engulfing whatever reply she’s giving me in a deep, probing kiss. She squirms in place as my dick rubs against the soft fabric of her shirt, running along her navel.

The minute I’m in control again, something switches on inside me. All of my selfishness falls to the side because all I care about now is seeing her writhing under me, coming over and over again because of me. I pull back from the kiss and look at her. There’s no uncertainty in her eyes—she wants this as much as I do.

“Now follow me,” I say, pulling her into my bedroom. I already have everything set up, ready to go. I flip on the lights and watch as her mouth drops open.

She takes in the black sheets, the silky red ropes hanging from each of the four bedposts. The music playing in the background. She’s speechless, another first for me.

Without saying another word, I release her wrists and pick her up and place her on the bed.

She finds her voice, a little shaky and deeper than usual. “You’re . . . you’re going to tie me up?”

“You said you need to figure out what happened to your muse. I’m going to invite it out to play. But first things first,” I reply, pulling her shirt up over her head in one fluid motion.

Ramona is almost shocked, wanting to cover herself up, but I won’t let her, and I press her back into the mattress, my knee firmly between her legs and at the opening of her skirt. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’re beautiful. Let me look at you.”

She blushes deeply. I reach behind her and undo her bra clasp, slowly pulling the straps down her arm and pulling back the lacy black cups to reveal part of the masterpiece that is Ramona. She’s quick to try and cover herself again but I’m quicker, pinning her arms all the way above her head, giving me a glorious view of her small globes. She stops resisting and allows me to carefully bind her wrists to each of the headboard posts. I leave her feet free for now but slide off her shoes so she doesn’t accidentally kick me.

It’s way more than I do for any other conquest of mine, but it’s also something I enjoy. I learned how to do a whole bunch of crazy bindings with these legit bondage ropes of mine, and the idea of seeing her soft, small frame tied up in a number of different ways just begging for me to fuck her . . . makes me wish we had more time to do this.

Once I’m finished, I sit back on my feet to inspect my work, my eyes lingering on the rise and fall of her chest. “Perfect.”

She bites her lip and looks away for a second before looking right back at me. “I wasn’t expecting all of this. I figured you’d bend me over the couch, fuck me there, and that would be the end of it, you know? But this is all so, so . . . ”

“Planned out? No shit. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do this?” I ask, laughing. “Or this?” I slide my open hands up her knees and squeeze, making her jump at the sudden contact. “Too long.”

Enough talk, time for what I came for. The air in the room sparks, and there’s a change in the way she looks at me, with all that heavy lust in her eyes just begging me to touch her. I hold myself over her, straddling her hips so that my weight isn’t on her. I reach over to the table and pull out Part B of my plan—a brand new paintbrush. It’s a thicker brush with a tapered handle. Ramona looks at me curiously, with this kind of apprehension in her eyes. I reach down and stroke myself, closing my eyes for a second to help ease off the strain.

I part her thighs and trail the soft bristles of the brush up her inner thigh, the bed vibrating from Ramona’s trembling. The brush softly skirts across her smooth brown skin and she bites her lip, desperately trying to hold back the moan I know is hiding there.

I keep her skirt where it is and slide the brush between her thighs, letting it barely graze her panties. When she almost jumps out of her skin, I trace the brush along the creases of her inner thighs. Reaching up inside her skirt, I expertly pull the already-soaking wet bit of black fabric off her, peeling it down oh so slowly, sending her legs squirming. I smirk up at her as I toss them behind me.

The skirt stays in place even still, so she can only feel and not see what I’m doing to her. I flip the brush around in my hand and push her legs apart as far as they can go with the skirt and slide the brush back up between her thighs, this time trailing the thick, rounded end of it along her soft mound. She’s bucking her hips uncontrollably, but I know she wants to hold back as long as she can. Luckily for her, I’m not sure I can even hold out for too much longer . . . I’ve already waited long enough.

I can see up her skirt, getting a half-view of what I’m doing as I drag the handle up and down her wet slit, covering the tip of it in her wetness. I pull it back and make a show of tasting it, licking her sweet juice off the wooden end. Fucking delicious, as I expected. Her eyes go all lusty again, watching me. She has no idea what she’s in for.

I waste no time in sliding the handle deep inside her now, as far as she’ll take it. She lets the first sound escape and looks downright sheepish that she couldn’t hold it in. Playfully shaking my head at her, I begin to pump the brush in and out of her pussy, loving the way Ramona lets her head crash back into the pillow. I stop for a minute just so I can slide off her skirt, giving me the very sexy view of her entire small frame, from her pretty face, to her pointing nipples, all the way past her wet cunt. This is true art right here.

I climb back over her, shoving my tongue into her mouth, kissing her with the kind of fervor that could set the mattress on fire. She yanks at her bindings, crying out in frustration that she can’t touch me like I can touch her. That will come after I have my way with her first, because while I may be the funny, chill guy usually, I mean serious business when it comes to fucking. Others have used the word
intense
.

My mouth lowers to a sensitive spot along her neck, and I hold her tits in my hand as I kiss her there, rubbing her dark pointed nipples with my thumbs. I pinch them, pull on them lightly, and watch as they stick out at me, begging for more. I bring my mouth down to one, sucking it in between my teeth and flicking my tongue against it softly while my other hand squeezes the other handful of luscious flesh. Ramona is still managing to keep her sounds to herself, although it’s clear she’s struggling. I’ll win here very soon.

While my mouth is teasing her chest everywhere, I carefully reach back to grab the brush again, and in one quick motion I fill her pussy with the thick end of it, lightly biting on her other nipple at the same time.

“Oh fuck.” she cries out, this long, warbly noise coming out of her that tells me I’ve finally cracked her. My cock is so fucking hard right now and practically begging me to shove it deep inside her that I consider it until I realize I’m forgetting something.