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He’d just
upended sex—I mean six—huge bags that read "Mulch
‘n Manure." Concealed behind two layers of mirrored
glass, I gazed outside the office building’s
second-story window and watched the sexy stud shovel
shit.
I’d spent
the last seven minutes hiding behind binoculars,
studying every close-up inch of tanned skin visible in
the eyepieces, analyzing both his tight ass and his
shoveling technique. Pathetic, I know. But the
tattoo-adorned naked torso below was so worth a little
patheticism.
God. I
can’t even justify my actions without butchering the
English language. Lame and boring, that was me, hiding
up here. Alone...
It
doesn’t have to be,
my increasingly loud inner vixen clamored. After
ignoring the prodding from my naughtier side for
twenty-one years, all I could do now was listen…and gaze
at the sweaty, sculpted body below.
My hands
shook as I focused in on the detailed depiction of the
Sun adorning the broad curve of one deltoid.
Jagged, dagger-like rays of orange and yellow streaked
across the muscles of his upper arm, flexing every time
he moved.
A bold
tribal symbol was splayed over his opposite shoulder,
but I couldn’t get a bead on the design covering one pec.
What was it? And what would it feel like to run my
fingertips through the fine dusting of hair on his body,
tracing the tattoos?
Heat
swarmed through me, flushing my face and settling deep
in my abdomen.
Wasn’t I
too young for hot flashes?
My breath
flowed a little faster as I tilted my head, scanning the
length of his strong back and hard butt (the latter
covered in faded denim, darn it).
He’d
arrived late. As the afternoon had worn on, I’d thought
perhaps Travis—of Travis Taylor’s Landscaping & Design,
according to the sign on his battered truck—might not
show today, but I’d waited, hanging around long after
quitting time.
My
patience (or desperation) had paid off.
Last
Friday, I’d finally worked up the courage to speak and
we’d exchanged a few words, but I wanted a lot more than
words.
I wanted
his tongue.
In my
mouth.
Licking
across my skin.
Diving
between my legs.
My body
shook with the force of that wanting.
He was
like a wild palomino stallion—untamed—and I wanted to
ride him. But I’d always been afraid of horses.
No
guts, no glory,
my inner vixen taunted. I crammed the binoculars in the
drawer and pulled out my purse. After powdering my nose
(yeah, like he'd even be close enough to notice!) and
freshening my lips with Sultry Summer Pink, I made a
beeline for the source of every erotic fantasy I’ve had
this summer.
Travis
wiped a forearm across his dripping brow. It came away
smeared with dirt. Damn. He’d been in such a rush, he’d
left his bandanna in the truck. With the back of one
glove, he mopped his forehead, then glanced at the large
glass doors...still no movement from inside the
building.
Shit,
he’d hurried for nothing. The strait-laced female he
glimpsed most Friday afternoons must’ve already left.
And wasn’t he the fool for wasting time thinking about
her?
She
wasn’t his usual bump ‘n grind.
But then,
since quitting the hard stuff two years ago, his usual
type left him limp.
On the
flip side, the buttoned-up beauty that smiled shyly and
stopped just short of flirting...well, hell, she about
made his weekend every Friday. At least, jacking off to
thoughts of her made his weekend.
Damn.
He’d put the illegal shit behind him, sworn off the
snorts and shoots, but if she had even a hint of the
things he wanted to do to her body, she’d have his sorry
ass arrested.
So why
waste time contemplating a subdued innocent when his
mind should be on work? He dropped the shovel and picked
up the rake.
Now he
had to spread manure with a fucking hard-on. Smart,
Trav, real smart.
I pushed
through the revolving doors and entered the sweltering
August heat. Eight steps down the concrete walkway and
he was close enough to hear me. My heart was
jackhammering in my chest. Be cool. Keep it casual.
Before I lost my nerve, I spoke up. "You’re working late
today."
The guy
I’d been ogling all summer straightened and whipped
around to face me. Droplets of perspiration flew from
his hair. "So are you."
His
gloved fingers flexed on the handle of the rake. Up
close, I could see the blocky, rugged cross filling the
left side of his chest, a decrepit skull lolling next to
the base. A faded snake coiled from there to the right
side of his stomach. I should have been
disgusted; I hated snakes.
So why
did I find it sexy?
Maybe it
had something to do with the mass of muscles beneath the
sinuous tattoo? Maybe I was just losing my mind...
"Nice
tat," I said, trying not to obviously stare at the
glistening tanned skin and delineated biceps not four
feet away. Heat from the concrete beneath my feet rose
upward. The flesh beneath my skirt boiled.
He
grinned. "Which one?"
I stared
at the four distinct tattoos visible with his shirt off.
As always, I found myself drawn to the newest-looking
one on his left shoulder. "The Sun."
"That’s
my favorite, too."
"What’s
that?" I pointed to the asymmetrical symbol.
"No clue.
I was wasted when I got it."
At least
he was honest. My eyes wandered over the inked drawings
and my mouth watered. How I wanted to rip the rake from
his grasp, throw it to the side and rake my nails down
his chest. I blinked, trying to erase the vision…the
yearning.
"How
long’ve you worked here?" He nodded toward the office
complex.
You
wanna get naked?
"Oh,
um..." Good Lord. A few bulging muscles, a couple of hot
tattoos, and I turn into a blathering idiot.
"Just this summer. Internship. I graduate this month."
Now why
had I told him that?
"Cool.
Congratulations." He shifted. Muscles flexed. The sun’s
rays danced—both on his body and inside mine.
My loins
twitched, the heartbeat in my crotch pulsing between my
legs. I couldn’t keep my eyes off his chiseled shoulder.
"Where’d you get it?" I blurted.
"What?
The tattoo?"
I nodded.
Sweat erupted above my lips; I mashed them together,
further smearing the freshly applied lipstick.
"Electric
Ed’s Body Art and Piercings. Over on Montague. Are you
thinking of getting one?"
You
wanna get naked?
"Um. I
might. A little graduation present. Maybe." Could I
sound any dorkier?
He
laughed and hefted the rake. "Something to shock the
parents, is that it?"
I stood
straighter and forced myself to meet his gaze, sweat and
pulsing pussy be damned. "No. Something for me."
"Whoa! So
the sex kitten has claws." His grin widened. "Maybe I’ll
see you over there sometime. Like tonight."
Was that
a dare? Sex kitten?! "Maybe you will."
I gripped
my purse to keep from tearing his jeans off.
My inner
vixen wanted to get down-and-dirty in the dirt, but I
restrained myself. Barely.
Before I
hyperventilated and passed out—in a pile of freshly
raked fertilizer—I sauntered (with a bit of extra hip
action) toward my car.
Had I
just made a not-quite date to meet Mr. Travis Landscaper
at a tattoo parlor? Tonight?
Oh, crap.
I needed to find a map and Electric Ed’s.
Two hours
later, fresh from a cold shower, Travis sat in the
parking lot of Electric Ed’s, drumming his fingers on
the wheel and sucking on a Tic-Tac, wishing it was her
clit.
What in
the hell was he doing?
Lusting
after a shy intern he had no business even thinking
about? Waiting for her to mark her lovely skin? Hoping
to ply her with liquor—in the guise of moral support—and
plow into her?
How low
could he sink?
As deep
as she’d let him...
His cock
twitched at the thought.
Hell, it
had been a long day. Two of his guys had called in sick
at the last minute—hung over, he’d bet. He should be at
home, reclining in front of the tube, brewski in one
hand, Whopper in the other. Handling his dick after
that. Then bed.
Five a.m.
came early.
Releasing
his grip on the wheel, Travis reached for the ignition.
Then
something, someone, caught his eye and he sat up,
every muscle taut. He recognized her by the walk alone.
Everything else was transformed.
Gone was
the prim little knot; her hair swinging free. Shorter
than he’d expected, but wild, the strands waved around
her head like a mane. Gone was the dark, boxy suit,
replaced by curve-hugging denim and a red halter top
that left damn near all of her back exposed.
In a pair
of worn cowboy boots, she glided straight up to the door
and disappeared inside Ed’s. Travis was out of the truck
and after her in a flash.
"So
what’d you decide on?" Travis asked, after following her
around the front room while she looked at designs.
She spun to face him
and her eyes lit up. "You
came! I mean, hi."
Then she stood there,
looking at him like Santa had just dropped him off in
front of her fireplace. Trav felt about ten feet tall.
"The tattoo?" he reminded, grinning.
"This
one." She blushed and pointed to a wicked line drawing
of a tiger. He approved. "I was born in the year of the
Chinese tiger."
Travis
winked. "Year of the cock."
Her eyes
flared. "Are you getting another tattoo?"
"Not
tonight. They’re addictive. I’ve put myself on a tattoo
moratorium until I turn thirty. Then I’ll reassess. See
what skin is left...see what appeals."
"And
that’ll be when?" She fished.
Trav
willingly took the bait. "A little less than two years."
"Really?"
"I know.
I already look thirty. Hell, forty."
"No you
don’t. Not anywhere near forty. Early thirties, maybe,
but you’re still gorgeous." She slapped a hand over her
mouth.
So damn
innocent. He leaned in close. Are you a virgin?
"What’d you come here for?"
"A
tattoo."
"Is that
all?"
He
watched as she licked her lips and assessed his body.
His skin sizzled—there was that look again. She was
staring at him like she’d been on a no-sugar diet for
years and he was a seven-layer chocolate cake. Maybe
after the tattoo, he’d take her for dessert. Eat her
for dessert. "Do you like chocolate?"
"Who
doesn’t?"
Her eyes
said she knew they weren’t talking about food. Goddamn.
He wanted to thrust his cock between her lips. He wanted
to ride her mouth to completion, that innocent, needs
kissing-and-fucking, lipstick-tinted mouth.
"Do you
like it hard?" He had to test her. Could she keep up
with him? Satisfy him?
Could he
go slow enough to satisfy her?
"Hard?"
She made a little sound in her throat, a cross between a
moan and a hum. His dick thrummed in response. "I, um,
like my chocolate creamy, but I..." She swallowed and
dropped her gaze. It centered on his fly. "I like other
things hard."
"Ready?"
Some new guy, every inch of exposed skin on his arms and
neck inked, interrupted. "You’re next."
Three
minutes later, she was straddling a chair, her back
going under the needle, her hands gripping his. "It's
gonna hurt, isn't it? Crap. Maybe I should have taken
some Tylenol?"
"Don't think it'd make
a bit of difference, not now."
"Go ahead," she told
the guy hovering at her shoulder. "I'm ready. I think."
Travis
loved her innocence. He loved her courage more. "You
don’t have to do this, you know. You could just get
something pierced, save—"
"I want
to." A buzzing sound emitted from beside the tattoo
artist. She tensed when he touched the instrument to her
back. But she didn’t move away. "I’m tired of being
boring."
"Who says
you’re boring?"
"My
ex-boyfriend."
"He’s a
fucking idiot."
"What a
sweet thing to say." She flinched and started breathing
through her mouth...slow, measured exhalations. Deep
inhalations. God, her mouth. A work of art. A dark,
hollow cavern...made to encase his cock.
He
watched her as long as he could, saying nothing,
stripping her with his mind, fucking her with his gaze.
Her eyes never left his. She squeezed his fingers
tighter.
"God, I
want your soft pink lips wrapped around my dick," he
said quietly, partly to distract her. Mostly because he
was a horny bastard. "It’s not your fault other men
haven’t seen the fire in you. Known how to feed the
flames, then put them out."
"I..."
She bit her bottom lip, eyes blazing.
"All
done." The guy behind her stood up. "Pay up and
get a fucking bed. I’m
runnin’ a business, not a damn dating service."
My shoulder blade stung
like the devil, but when Travis placed his arm across my
lower back and escorted me into the night, all I felt
was the blood rushing to my inner thighs. I wanted him
and I didn’t care if he knew it. No guts, no glory...
Outside Electric Ed’s,
I turned to him. "Will you take me?"
"Home?"
Take me.
I couldn’t say it again. Instead, I stood on my tiptoes
and kissed him, hoping he’d take over, hoping he’d know—
His mint-flavored
tongue banished all thought.
He pressed his lips
hard against mine and explored my mouth. After the way
he’d undressed me with his eyes, aroused me with his
words, I didn’t need preliminaries.
This wouldn’t be the
fumbling attempts of a frat boy or the first-time sprint
of a high school senior. This would be sex with a sexy
stranger. Something to remember, to learn from, to
relive every Friday afternoon for the next two years,
maybe longer. My pussy muscles clenched, ready.
Hands around my waist,
he picked me up and walked through the shadowy parking
lot. Headlights zoomed past. Horns blared in the
distance.
The oppressive, humid
heat settled in my gut, fed by his mouth on mine,
increased by his callused thumbs edging beneath my top,
scraping across my breasts.
He came to a stop and
put me down next to a sparkling crew cab pickup. "Wow,"
I gasped out when he released my breasts, wishing he
hadn't stopped. "Nicer than your work truck."
"Yeah. Thanks. You got
condoms?" he asked, digging for his keys. "Did you come
prepared?"
I thought of the three
packets tucked in my back pocket. "Several."
He opened the rear
door. I clambered inside and he climbed in after me. My
lungs heaved, inhaling the scents of new car and aroused
pussy.
The bench seat was
plush. The truck hot. I was on fire.
"Good girl. I did,
too." He arched over the seat and started the truck,
flipping the a/c on high. The big diesel engine rumbled
to life. Travis leaned back against the corner and
stared at me in the reflected neon light, blinking past
the windshield from the flashing Electric Ed’s
sign overhead. His breath rasped over my ears. "Seems
the sex kitten is more of a wildcat. You sure you want
this?"
No guts...
"Definitely."
"You a virgin?"
"Definitely not."
"Good. But I’d want you
either way." He opened his jeans. "Will you...?"
In the shadows, I
zeroed in on his cock. Grasping him with one hand, I
brought my lips to his lap. Would he be able to tell I
hadn’t done this before?
"Lick me."
I followed his
instruction, placing my lips against the hard flesh and
kissing from the base, along his shaft, to the wide head
at the top. He knotted several fingers in my hair and
guided me.
His other hand slipped
beneath my jeans and teased along the crack of my ass. I
felt myself get wetter.
I took him into my
mouth, my tongue exploring the new tastes and textures.
His hips lifted off the seat, pushing more of his rod in
my mouth. My heart raced.
"Bite me."
"What?" I
mumbled around his cock.
"I like a little pain.
Makes me feel alive."
A thrill shot through
me. Fear or adrenaline? "Are you into really kinky
stuff?"
"I’m into only what two
people agree on. Are you gonna bite me?"
"Can I suck you
instead?"
He gave a low laugh.
"Go for it, baby."
I did, taking him deep
within my mouth. My tongue curved around his shaft and I
pulled hard, the muscles in my throat and neck working
as my cheeks suctioned against his dick.
"Yeah, like that."
Feeling braver, I
gently grated my teeth around the thick muscle. His
fingertips edged beneath my panties and he touched my
soaked flesh, teasing my slit.
I groaned, wanting to
come, wanting to wait, confused, just wanting.
Needing.
Gripping my hair, he
pulled my head back, dislodging himself from my mouth. I
sat up. My lips felt swollen, tingly. I stared at him,
wishing we were outside, in the daylight...wishing that
I could see him better.
"Take off your jeans,"
he ordered.
I obeyed, lacking in
grace, but scrambling out of my boots and the
sweat-dampened denim as fast as I could. I tore off my
panties.
Naked. In the backseat
of a truck. With a near stranger. Take that! I
told my inner vixen...then I riffled my jeans for a
condom.
Travis scooted beneath
me until his back reclined on the seat. He spread his
knees and took the packet from my fumbling fingers,
rolling the rubber down his cock.
"I wish I’d gotten glow
in the dark," I complained, wanting to see his dick.
"Next time," he
grunted, guiding me between his legs.
Every muscle in my body
spasmed at the thought of next time, at the thought of
now. I hovered above his upraised erection.
"Come here, Wildcat.
I’ve been thinking about this for weeks." Fingers
pressed into my hips, he centered me over his prick. My
thigh muscles shook from the strain of holding back. I
gripped his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin.
His cock nudged along my slit.
"Relax. You’re more
than ready." His fingers tightened and he pulled me down
against his groin, ramming high inside my pussy.
I screamed. My inner
muscles rippled around him, drawing him deeper. His
hands went to my ass. He kneaded the cheeks of my
bottom, pulling them apart and lunging higher.
I leaned down and
kissed the cross on his chest, the evil-looking skull,
even sucked on the snake. My hips rotated, bringing my
clit in contact with his curly pubic hair. My breath
escaped on a gasp.
Travis groaned and
sought my lips. He thrust his tongue inside my mouth and
rubbed it along mine. His body arched off the seat,
plundering my flesh, plowing into me, just like I’d
fantasized.
The big truck rocked.
One hand left my ass and I felt him untie my top. He
pulled it from my neck, tossing the fabric aside. He
lifted my torso and kissed his way down my chin, my
chest... His lips latched onto one nipple and he sucked.
My hips ground my pussy
against his groin. I rode him, thinking of horses,
thinking of meadows, thinking of running free, riding a
stallion bareback, riding this sexy, tattooed landscaper
that was playing stud to my vixen.
His teeth clamped down,
biting my nipple, and I cried out.
"Want me to stop?" he
asked around my breast.
God, no! I arched
against him, frantic, needing to climax.
He lunged higher,
harder. Fingers returned to my ass, reached between my
legs, past his cock, to tease my clit from behind. He
spit out my breast and his lips returned to mine; he
sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. I sucked on his top
one. I bit it.
He growled.
His fingers plucked and
pruned my clit, nurturing the tiny seed, making it
harden, grow, until I felt my orgasm burst through me,
watering his fingers, sucking at his dick, like parched
earth seeking rain.
A long, low squeal came
from my throat. Travis hummed his pleasure, sucked my
lip a little harder, and shot his load. His cock jerked
inside my convulsing pussy. He groaned again and his
head fell to the seat.
Cool air washed over my
backside. I sighed, trying to catch my breath. His
fingers relinquished their post between my legs and
began skimming up my back. He encountered the bandage
and circled it, bringing his hands to my shoulders.
He raised his head and
kissed me. "Want to go out for dessert?"
"You mean like a date?"
"Hell, yeah, I mean
like a date. And then I’m taking you home. We need to
wash your new tiger and put some lotion on it."
Electric Ed’s
blinked off, leaving us in near darkness. My fingers
traced over his deltoid. "Why is the Sun your favorite?"
"Nighttime confessions?
Okay. I’ll trade. When I was younger, I did a lot of
shit I’m not proud of. The Sun is a reminder—look for
the positive. Silver linings, light at the end of the
tunnel, and all that. Your turn: do you really think
you’re boring?"
"Not anymore." I kissed
his jaw. "Do you have any Hershey’s syrup in your
fridge?"
"Think so. Don’t know
how old it is." He shifted and withdrew, causing renewed
tingles to dance through my crotch. "Why?"
"Can we skip dessert?
Just go back to your place, get the chocolate syrup and,
um, you can eat me for dessert?"
"Wildcat, you’re on."
He slapped my bare bottom.
"Now get dressed."
I rubbed
my legs over his hairy ones. "Do I have to?"
"Death by
innocence. You’re gutsier than I expected."
That made
two of us. "Complaining?"
"Nope.
I’m forecasting clear and sunny skies."
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