Page 3 of Stick Play

He clears his throat again and turns from me. “Why don’t you go cool off in the shower?” With a curt nod, he gestures to the stairs that lead to my upstairs apartment, abruptly dismissing me. “I’ll get this fixed for you and lock up on my way out.”

“Oh, okay.” Jeez, here I just set my mind on seducing this man, and he’s making it clear that he’s here to fix my appliance and a fast hook-up isn’t on the table.

Sex on the table…ooh.

I redo my top button, and with my proverbial tail between my legs, I dart upstairs. I go straight to my shower, needing something to cool my body down. I glance at myself in the mirror and see a streak of grease on my face. Oh, that’s attractive.

I strip and climb into the cool spray. I guess at the end of the day, not having sex with Ash is for the best. In my desperation to be touched I must have been imagining the sexual tension between us.

Honestly, he’s an ash-hole and I’m an asshole magnet. I guess I thought one little hook-up couldn’t hurt. It’s not like anything would develop. Not only do I know better than to fall for a guy like Ash, one who is admired by every woman on the planet and makes those women feel special—much like my ex—I have a daughter to consider. I don’t bring men in and out of her life. Besides, Ash is terrified of her. That brings a laugh to my throat. How can a big guy like Ash be so afraid of a little girl?

I stay under the spray until I’m cool, and then climb out and wrap myself in a big fluffy towel. I work on knotting it as I open the bathroom door, and come face to face, or rather face to chest with the man I’ve been fantasizing about for far too long. My fingers lose all ability to work and my towel drops to the floor.

A loud, tortured groan crawls out of Ash’s throat. “Jesus, Gina.” I’m about to grab the towel. This man made it clear he doesn’t want me, right? But then he takes a step toward me, and just like my air conditioning, my brain goes on hiatus. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

His warm scent curls around me and my body reacts. “Ash…” He stares at me with hungry blue eyes and I go up on my toes, my lips parting as I put my hand on his chest. He hesitates for a second as his muscles tighten under my palm and just when I think I’ve read him wrong again, he puts a hand around my back and roughly tugs me to him.

A little gasp of pleasure catches in my throat as he lowers his head and claims my mouth like a hungry man on a mission to devour everything before him.

Yes, please.

He picks me up and I put my legs around him, kissing him deeply as he heads down the hall. I’m about to tell him the bedroom is the other way, but can’t bear to tear my mouth from his as his tongue explores and tastes the depths of me. God, I want his tongue in so many other places.

He breaks the kiss for a brief second when he reaches the end of the hall, his gaze going to my kitchen. “Hurry,” I whisper, my voice full of need and desperation.

He gives a curt nod, his steps hurried, determined as he walks into my kitchen, and glances at my table.

Table…yes.

My God, I must have done something right in a past life because everything I secretly wanted is happening. Go me.

With the utmost gentleness, which takes me by surprise, he sets me on the hard wooden tabletop, and grips my legs and widens them. He unzips his pants and as I offer myself up to him, I prepare for him to pull his hard cock out and thrust into me, but what he does instead surprises the hell out of me.

“This,” he growls and reaches between my legs to lightly stroke my sex, the rough pad of his thumb doing delicious things to my clit. His eyes briefly close. “I’ve wanted this—you—for so damn long.”

What the heck?

Okay, so I guess I wasn’t imagining the tension between us.

He wets his bottom lip and I nearly orgasm.

“Babe, I’ve been dying to taste you.”

I grip his head and widen my legs even more. “I’ve been dying for that too,” I admit shamelessly, which is so unlike me, and it pulls another groan from his mouth.

He sinks to his knees, wetting both of his lips this time as he goes, and now it’s my turn to moan. His big fingers bite into my thighs, and I actually hope they leave tiny love bruises so I can relive this hook-up tomorrow, next week, well into the new year. Truthfully, this isn’t like me, and I can’t say for sure what it is about him that brings out a different side of me.

His warm breath falls over my sex and a hard quiver goes through me. I grip the table and hang on for what I know is going to be the ride of my life. That first sweet touch of his tongue to my clit sends me skyrocketing to the moon, and I begin to breathe harder. God, why does that feel so good? I know it’s been a long time, but come on, it’s never felt quite this intense before.

His deft tongue slides over my sex, and I grow wetter, wanting more…wanting everything he has to offer—tonight. Just tonight. I close my eyes as he eats at me, takes charge of my pleasure, giving me nothing more to think about than how sexy and delicious this is. But the second he inserts a big thick finger, my eyes spring open.

Oh God, no. I’m going to come. It’s too fast, too soon. I grip his hair, run my fingers through it, and work to hang on. My body, however, has other ideas and as he pushes in deep, delicately rubbing the bundle of nerves inside me as his mouth devours my clit. I let go and ripple around his finger. I bite my bottom lip and pray he doesn’t register my climax. My desperation is nothing short of embarrassing.

His finger slows inside me and it’s then I realize he knows. I wait for him to say something, call me out but he doesn’t. He displays thoughtfulness, sensitivity and simply keeps his finger inside me, allowing me to ride out each glorious pulse. As tremors run through my body, a weird little wave of gratitude curls around my heart.

When my body finally stops spasming, he stands, and there’s a new kind of intensity about him that arouses me all over again. Like a man desperate to be touched, he takes my hand, and puts it on his chest, and I hold it there, loving the feel of his strong heartbeat beneath my palm.

“I’m going to fuck you now, Gina.” He pulls out a condom, and as he tugs his pants to his knees, his eyes lock with mine, checking in with me. That thoughtfulness, sensitivity, once again does something weirdly delightful to my insides. “Tell me you want that.”

---