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“You want to talk about it?”

Curtis had made no move to throw on some more clothes. He was still standing there in only his black boxer shorts. He crossed his arms and looked me over. “No, Cassie, I don’t want to talk. And neither do you.”

It was a challenge of sorts. He’d made the first move earlier today in the kitchen. He was leaving this next one up to me.

Curtis stayed where he was and watched me as I approached. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he must be able to hear it. We were close now, close enough so that I could see how hard he was breathing. His chest was a chaotic mix of shapes and tribal tattoos and I ran my fingertips over them, enjoying the way he inhaled sharply at my touch. I paused over a small line of scar tissue on the upper right side of his belly. It looked like a surgical scar. It wasn’t.

“Stab wound,” Curtis explained. “Happened about four years ago. Some crack head motherfucker grabbed a kitchen knife and took a swipe at me when I showed up to collect some money he owed. He wound up with two broken arms.”

He said all this with an edge in his voice, like he was trying to remind me again that he was no choir boy with a spotless past. Maybe he wanted to make sure I understood what I was getting into with him before it was too late. As far as I was concerned it was already too late.

I bent down and pressed my lips to the old scar.

Curtis groaned.

He tangled his hands in my long hair while I kept kissing, flicking my tongue out to taste his hot skin, moving up and kissing every part of his chest, then his shoulders and his collarbone. I braced my hands on his shoulders, rose up on tiptoe and kissed his neck, kissed the smooth lines of his jaw. There was no more distance between us. We were close enough that I could feel every inch of him aching to be freed of his boxers. I felt a tug around my waist, then Curtis’s hands inside my pajama shorts. A moment later they fell to the floor and I was happy to be done with them. He was after my shirt next, holding up my arms and impatiently lifting the shirt over my head. I felt slightly dizzy when my bare breasts touched his hard chest. There were no more barriers except my panties and his boxers. I was positive they would both be history soon.

“Kiss me,” I whispered.

Curtis tipped my chin up so he could stare down into my eyes. The look he gave me was all heat and lust, the look of a man who was on the edge of something primal. But first Curtis wanted to issue one last warning.

“If I kiss you this time, Cassidy, there’s no turning back.”

I felt him against my belly, hard and ready. My answer was instant and certain. “Good.”

Curtis leaned in and parted my lips with his tongue. He was a powerful kisser, using his tongue with abandon as his hands roamed all over my body. I felt myself being lifted at the waist and I impatiently wrapped my legs around him, eager to get to the next step. He was eager too, carrying me straight to the bedroom.

I didn’t want him to turn off the lights. I wanted to see him. Curtis set me down on the bed and lowered himself on top of me.

“I’m not usually gentle,” he warned. “But I will be if that’s what you want.”

I touched his face. “No,” I said. “That’s not what I want. I want you to be you, Curtis. And I want you to do every filthy thing that you said you wanted to do in my bedroom that night.” I bit my lip. “Do you remember?”

“I want to send you to your knees and push my cock in your mouth. I want to bend you over this bed and pound you from behind without a shred of fucking mercy. I want my mouth all over your pussy. I want to come right on those pouty lips of yours and watch you lick it off. I want to use you until you can’t stand up.”

“Fuck,” he swore, turning his head away so that I wondered if I’d said something wrong. Maybe he didn’t want me to be this way, bold and impatient for sex. But when he looked back he was grinning. “You’re my absolute fucking fantasy, do you know that?”

I moved my hands low, touching the waistband of his boxers before sliding my hands under the elastic. “I will if you show me.”

He shoved his boxers down all the way and guided my hand to his dick although I could have easily found it on my own. He was massive, rock hard under my palm.

He was also dead serious now. “You feel that?” he growled, moving to a rhythm as I stroked him. Then he bent his head and sucked on my left breast briefly before continuing. “As soon as I’m finished making this sweet body mine I’m going to do every single dirty, indecent thing I can think of. And you’ll fucking love it, Cassie. You’ll love every minute.”

“Yes,” I moaned. I was squirming on the bed now, stroking him harder and trying to guide him closer. I needed him. I ached for him. Curtis nudged my hand away, but only because he was trying to get my panties off.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Most beautiful body I’ve ever seen.” He kissed my breasts and my belly and the tender interior of my thighs while I arched my back in search of more and becoming frantic that he wouldn’t give it to me. His tongue teased me, playing over my sensitive skin until I gasped and clutched the bed sheets in my fists.

“Cassidy,” Curtis said and there was a strange quality to his tone now. He was kneeling between my legs and ripping a condom open. The intensity in his eyes had nothing to do with sex. It was much more solemn and meaningful and his eyes remained locked on me as he rolled on the condom. “You know you can trust me, right?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I know that, Curtis.”

And I did. I trusted him completely. I wanted him completely.

He was wrong when he said he wasn’t gentle. Curtis covered me with his body and kissed me right then with excruciating tenderness. Then he shifted position and I felt him slide inside of me. He started out slowly, bracing himself on his elbows as he moved, letting me get used to the size of him. I spread my legs as wide as possible and took him in. Nothing had ever felt so good.

“That’s it,” he panted, pumping harder now. “Move with me, sweetheart. It’s so fucking easy to make you come and I love it. Come on, baby, scream it out. It’s just you and me here.” He paused to kiss me again and then whispered, “It’s just you and me.”

“Curtis!” I was a goner now, at the mercy of the sensations rocking my body. And I did scream. I held onto him and shouted his name again, this time so loud the noise probably awoke every resident in the apartment complex.

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