I tried to jump up.
To run away.
To do something – anything – to get away from the swarm of angry bees that had just been chasing me. But as soon as the fog cleared from my eyes – with a cotton plantation springing up in my mouth in the meantime – it dawned on me.
That wasn’t any stinger poking me in the ass.
And by the light shining through the window, I also knew it was barely dawn. But just as the brownie pieces of the previous day began to filter into my head, I jumped again, hearing the angry buzzing sound start up all over again.
Only instead of a swarm of pissed off bees, it was my cell phone.
I must have put it on vibrate at some point, with the sound of it working its way into my dreams. But with Harric still lying behind me – and with a death grip around my body – I had to struggle to reach it on the coffee table.
And I snorted, wondering if that was what they meant by Shreveport Vice.
Who needed handcuffs, with snuggles like that?
Like a python, with every exhale I made, he seemed to squeeze me tighter and made it more difficult to breathe. But feeling the anaconda he had going on his shorts, I huffed out another gigglesnort when I mentally dubbed him Harric Potter and sorted him into the House of Slytherin that only existed in my brain.
Coaxing the phone forward with my just fingertips, I managed to snag it between my thumb and forefinger. But looking at the caller ID and seeing who it was, I got worried and answered it with a whispered out, “Aunt Lin? What’s wrong?”
Because why in the hell would she be calling me this early in the morning unless something was wrong?
Unless maybe a different kind of Vice Squad had her trapped at her house too?
“Why are we whispering?” she whispered back.
And then reminding me why she shouldn’t taste test her own brownies, she added in a panic, “Oh my god! It’s because they’re listening, right?”
But before I could get snowed under by her Edward Snowden monologue, I quickly interrupted her and said, “I’m whispering because even roosters aren’t awake yet.”
“Oh!” she answered, at a decibel that nearly shattered my ear drum and then laughed out, “Well I…I…I say now, that Foghorn Leghorn always was an old fuddy duddy.”
Who needed Saturday morning cartoons when they had an Aunt Linda?
While she cackled at her lame impression, I guessed the sleeping spell Harric had been under was broken because he shifted behind me, with his arms loosening and tightening in turn, before he nuzzled into the back of my head and asked, “Who are you talking to?”
“Oh my god!” she shrieked. “They are listening! I thought they only eavesdropped. I didn’t know they could join the conversation! Sookie Stackhouse, don’t you dare say my name!”
Never mind had her paranoid fantasies been reality, she would have just dimed me out to the NSA.
And then dropping back down to a decibel level only bats could hear, she sounded like a poorly acted crime show mafia boss, saying, “I just wanted to remind you that we’re doing you know what, you know where later on.”
Thankfully, my trip into her paranoid trippy mind ended with a click, so I dropped my phone and snickered, “That was just my Aunt Linda, diming me out to the NSA and reminding me of the barbecue she’s having later on, where I’m sure her brownie delights will be featured as the dessert.”
“I don’t think the NSA cares about your love of magic brownies,” he chuckled, with the sound of it managing to shake a few eggs free from my ovaries.
I was sure of it.
I could feel his smile as it formed against the back of my head – and I knew firsthand that wasn’t the only part of his body that was happy – when he asked, “How are you feeling?”
Like I had a bullseye on my ass?
So far he’d only met up with Drunk Me and High Me, but Sober Me felt surprisingly comfortable in the arms of a stranger who wasn’t really a stranger.
Maybe it was because I knew how much Jason liked him.
Maybe it was because I’d heard my entire family gush about him like he was family too.
God knows I was gushing for him.
In different kind of way.
And maybe it was the lingering effects of my brownie high. Or maybe it was the cover of darkness that had me feeling so bold.
Or maybe it was just Horny Me thinking with my little nub of a brain that it would be a good idea to wiggle my ass against him and answer, “I feel like resisting arrest. I’m not afraid of you, Copper.”
But I would go down without a fight.
It had been months since I’d last had sex. And if you didn’t count Bill – and really, no one in their right mind should – then it had been even longer. I’d never had a one night stand before and while I didn’t know if this would be a one-time thing, I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.
With his freaky ability to find me whenever my sobriety had skipped town, it may be the last time I would get one.
Hearing him groan behind me was nearly drowned out by the happy squeals my eggs were making, sliding down my fallopian tubes, and then landing with a tink tink tink in my uterus.
But just in case he hadn’t heard me, I made sure he would at least feel me.
By taking his hand from my hip and sliding it up underneath my borrowed shirt to my boobs, while I whispered out, “Don’t you want to frisk me, officer?”
He growled, thrusting his hips just as I arched my chest into his hands and my ass into his war chest, while he said, “I knew your weapons of mass destruction were real.”
I must have been radiating like a mother fucker because I could feel the pulsing going through both of our bodies, with his handheld nuclear weapon finder, seeking out my hidden silo.
I would surely need two hands for that bad boy.
But instead of searching out my already destroyed panties, he slid over my body, so that I was happily trapped underneath him, and he seemed to be searching for something else in my eyes.
Good luck with that.
With him so close, I could feel them crossing.
Unlike my legs.
Those wrapped around his waist and my feet tried to pull him down by his ass, but I only succeeded in lifting up my own because he wasn’t budging.
And I didn’t know why until he trailed his finger across my temple, pushing my sure-to-be rat’s nest aside, and said, “We’re not doing this unless I know you’re sober.”
It was sweet – if not a little frustrating – that he wanted to be sure I was of sound mind.
And being of horny body, I had no problem undergoing a field sobriety test if it meant he would be going under my panties and into my field of play.
I could only hope I would get my point across – that I wanted his point to make my eyes cross – and bet everything this alpha would understand any liberties taken with the alphabet.
So while my hands took some liberties of their own by slowly undressing us both, I softly whisper sang, “A, b, c, d, e, f, g, h, i, j, k, l, m, n, o, p…”
And then leaning up to chew my way across his scruffy jaw, I hoped it was enough to convince him I knew what I was doing because other parts of my body were ready to sing, when I ended with, “Now…do…me.”
By that time, we were both completely naked and my hand was stroking his nightstick, hoping to incite a riot. And it would seem I got my wish when his lips crashed down onto mine, with a snarled out, “Close enough.”
His tongue swept into my mouth, taking away every other thought I had that didn’t have to do with getting off by getting him in me. Our kiss was nothing like the one I could remember from the night before. Whereas then, he’d more or less allowed me to take the lead and take what I wanted from him, now he was running the show.
And his leadership skills were causing something else to run down my thighs.
I’d never been so turned on before, but there was more to it than that. Whether it was feeling like I already knew him through my family or from the little bit of time I’d spent with him so far, something about him put me at ease in a way that made me feel like this was right.
But it was the only part of me that was at ease.
The rest of me felt like a tightly wound string and that could burst at the seams at any second. So I tried to get more of him in any way I could, with my hands running up his sides and then raking down his back, before coming to a stop on his ass.
And just the feel of it was nearly enough to make me cum.
So I didn’t know whether to whimper in protest or shout out a ‘Thank you Jesus!’ when he broke our kiss to start kissing his way down my body. With my chest arched high and my knees hooked up around his sides, I probably resembled McDonald’s golden arches, but I didn’t care.
Like their slogan, ‘I was loving it.’
He licked, nibbled, and kissed his way down my chest, but when his progression stopped at my breasts, with his eyes glazing over, it put me in mind of one of our first morning after text convos and I snicker repeated, “What color are my eyes?”
“Pale pink,” he grinned, completely unashamed, and then forced my blue ones into the back of my head, with the force of his mouth on my pink ones.
Blinded in more ways than one, his lips wrapped around one, while his fingertips played with the other, but it seemed Eric was also a multi-tasker because his free hand slid down my body, with his fingertip grazing my clit before sliding through my folds.
So when his lips resumed their trek down my body, I could only hope that wasn’t the only kind of grazing he was in the mood for.
Sliding off of the couch, he slid my ass to the edge of it and hooked my legs over his shoulder, with his tongue moving in ways that had me nearly choking on my own. It wasn’t the first time someone had gone down on me, but it was damn well the first time someone had gone down on me who knew what they were doing.
Tracing every part of me with his tongue, his lips wrapped around my clit, with his tongue gently lapping against it like a cat cleaning itself.
So maybe that was where the term pussy came from?
But it didn’t matter. In fact, nothing else in the world mattered when his finger slid inside of me and gave my clenching walls something to hold on to.
I liked it there so much he might very well never get it back.
And when his trigger finger found my G-spot, it triggered an orgasm that rocked through my whole body and left me a quivering mess.
One that he proceeded to clean up with his tongue.
Feeling high again – on something way better than any brownie – I proved I was a glutton for more than just chocolate by pulling him back up my body by his hair and pulling his lower lip in between my teeth, before sweeping my tongue into his mouth.
Tasting myself on his lips and tongue, I groaned and forced myself to pull away from him, all but begging him in a pleading voice, “Fuck me.”
If I didn’t know any better I would think she was telepathic because staring at her now, I knew I was well and truly fucked when it came to her.
Especially now that I’d seen – and tasted – her cum.
And while I would admit that I was fucking smitten.
I wasn’t fucking stupid.
We weren’t fucking without protection.
But only because I wanted to hog her all to myself for a few years, before I kept her knocked up for the next decade, giving birth to our own little police force.
We could haggle over the numbers later.
For now I simply wrapped her in my arms and stood up from the couch to carry her back into the bedroom. My eyes were too busy watching the way her pale pink eyes bounced when I tossed her onto my bed, so I was forced to use nothing but my hands to feel for the box of condoms I kept in my nightstand.
And I was forced to drop the little foil wrapper when she bounced up onto her hands and knees and forced her lips down my shaft.
A strangled out, “Fuck,” fell from my lips as she fucked me with her mouth and now that they were empty, my hands filled themselves with her hair, while she moaned around me.
While my lower head hit the back of her throat, my upper one tried to focus on anything that would keep me from blowing my load too quickly. But her guttural growls only helped to keep my thoughts in the gutter because the only things that came to mind were all of the things I now knew about Sookie.
That she was flexible.
That she had little to no gag reflex.
And that I’d been right about her Brazilian.
And it did look great.
And the common denominator for all of my newfound knowledge was that they were all things I wasn’t about to tell her brother.
Jay was going to kill me as it was.
And I couldn’t think of a better way to go.
But my once blue balls were about to cross the line in a race I didn’t want to finish yet, so I pulled her off of me before that could happen. And without missing a beat, she grabbed the foil packet from the bed and ripped it open, rolling the condom onto me – using only her mouth – before falling back onto the mattress on her back.
Spreading her legs open wide, she dipped her fingers down into her folds and painted a trail with her cum up her body, as she smirked, “Feelin’ lucky, punk?”
And she was about to feel him too.
I’d known she would be a tight fit when I’d nearly lost my trigger finger to her orgasm, but I didn’t realize just how tight she was until I started pushing into her.
It was like trying to pick a lock with a Hickory Farms summer sausage.
And I’d also known she’d had at least one other partner, but remembering what she’d said about not getting anything out of having sex with him, I had to wonder if that literally meant she didn’t even get to have his dick in her and I breathed out, “Are you sure you’re not a virgin?”
“Are you sure you’re not on the SWAT team?” she asked in return, while her feet tried to force me down further. “You could probably use that thing to break down doors.”
The image her words provoked made me pause to shake them from my mind. I didn’t want to picture three other guys fully dressed in tactical gear, pushing me from behind to make my way in.
This was a one-man operation.
But Sookie took advantage of my distraction by hooking her arms and legs around my body to flip me over onto my back. And as she settled over my hips, I watched her place me at her entrance, as she playfully shook her head and growled, “Just like a man. If a girl wants something done, she’s better off just doing it herself.”
And a part of me wondered if that had been a part of her breakup speech to her ex.
So I silently vowed I would make sure I wouldn’t give her a reason to make me an imaginary sandwich when we were through.
Using my chest to lean on, she slowly inched her way down my shaft, and while there were plenty of things to look at – from the way her pale pink eyes swayed above me to the way her other set of lips took me into her body – my eyes remained glued to her face.
Taking in the way she bit down on her lower lip, with every inch of her descent.
The way she stared down at me, but not really seeing me and just concentrating on her task.
The way her head fell back when she finally bottomed out, with her wild hair fanning out behind her, making it almost look like she had wings.
But I’d never seen any Victoria’s Secret angel that had anything on her and when her eyes finally made their way back to me, there was a twinkle behind them when she said, “On your mark…”
My hands landed on her hips, using them to rotate hers over mine, while I smirked, “Get set…”
But I couldn’t see what expression was on her face when my eyes rolled into the back of my head, feeling her muscles contract around my length, just as I felt her next whispered word fan across my lips.
With the way she felt around me, Lucky could have easily taken that as a challenge to cross the finish line before her. But knowing if he did, it may be the last time I got a chance to run in this race, so the rest of me managed to hold back.
Because just as I silently vowed to make this a marathon instead of a sprint, Sookie rose up and slammed her body back down on top of me, pitching her hips like there was a pennant at stake.
But knowing there was more than just my male ego at stake – we had a tiny police force to create – I gave back as good as I was getting.
Holding her by her hips, I held her still above me, while I slowly thrust into her from below. Now that she had adjusted to my size, I didn’t hold back and rapidly increased my pace until the only sound in the room was skin slapping against skin and the soft whimpers and moans coming from her lips.
But I was greedy.
I wanted more of a reaction from her than that.
So I sat up, leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses across her chest, until I latched on to one of her nipples with my lips, while my hand slid down in between us, with my thumb quickly finding her clit.
Her body jerked on top of mine at the added stimulation and she ripped my head back by my hair, so she could slam her mouth down on mine.
My only thought was to get her to cum, so I didn’t have the time to be impressed with myself for not doing the same thing already. Everything about her was a fucking cock tease, but I wanted to make it good for her more than I wanted relief for myself.
When she pulled her lips away to breathe, her head fell back against mine and I could see that she was nearly there. So I rolled us over, with me still inside of her, and hooked my arms underneath her legs to get as deep inside of her as I could. With every slam of my hips, I ground against her clit and seeing her tits bounce, I leaned forward to capture one of her nipples in between my lips.
But with the way we were slamming my headboard against the wall, it was like trying to catch a fly with chopsticks.
Maybe I was just too drunk on her to have any coordination, but it didn’t matter when Sookie yanked my head back to hers, just in time to cry out my name against my lips as she came.
My hips slowed – only because the force of her orgasm threatened to either push me out of her body or force the cum out of mine – but when her eyes opened again, now unfocused, the only thing I wanted to do was to give her something else to focus on again.
I pulled out of her body, just as I flipped hers over, and my hands pulled her ass up by her hips, right before I lined myself up and slammed back inside of her. Her walls were still fluttering with the aftershocks of her orgasm, but I fought my own body’s want to let go and kept going instead.
Her head was pressed into the mattress and her back was arched, so the swell of her ass and hips rose up like the sun cresting over the horizon.
Or in this case, the moon.
It was a sight I never wanted to forget, but while I was in the middle of Etch-A-Sketching them into my spank bank, she seemed to have other ideas.
Ideas that short-circuited my brain and shook every other image out of my head.
Her hands had been pressed against the mattress on either side of her head – in a pose very much like her earlier request to be frisked – so the disappearance of her right hand was easily noticed.
And noticing it snaking underneath her body to rub against her clit wouldn’t be easily forgotten.
But this was my show and I wasn’t about to give her any reason to think she needed to get herself off, no matter how much I enjoyed watching it.
Not now anyway.
Maybe later though.
So I pulled both of her arms behind her back and held them there with one hand by her wrists, ignoring her whimpered protests, and went about making sure there would be a later.
I continued to pound into her body like our lives depended on it and I smacked her ass with my free hand, with her walls contracting around me harder and that, coupled with her garbled moan, told me that she liked it.
But my own body was sending me signals that I was nearing the end of my restraint, so I slid my hand underneath her body to finish her off and myself in the process.
All it took was hearing her muffled scream for my body to seize and fall forward, slamming into her twice more, while she pushed her ass back into me, with her orgasm ripping mine from my body and I came with a muffled roar of my own.
It took a few seconds for my vision to come back and I rolled off of her body, landing beside her on the bed and tried to catch my breath. But already being smitten, it was a wasted effort because looking back at her and seeing her lips swollen from my own, the air seemed to catch in my throat.
Her body was flushed, with a light sheen of sweat coating her chest, and – I knew – something other than sweat coating her thighs.
I’d already known I wanted something more with her, but it didn’t really hit me until then.
The dozen kids I had yet to tell her we were going to have together aside, I was pretty sure my heart stopped beating when she trailed her fingertip across my chest, just as I watched her smile turn into a frown.
But before I could ask her what was wrong – what I’d done wrong and how I could make it right again – her eyes narrowed in disgust, while she grumbled out, “Did you see the Rangers got their asses handed to them by the goddamn Yankees?”
And that was the precise moment when I knew I was going to marry her one day.