Sinful Desires Vol. 2(5)

I heard a zipper, then the tearing of a packet. A moment later, I felt cool air on my ass as he pushed up my dress. Then my panties were coming down. He left them at my knees and I felt his cock nudging against me. I arched my back and spread my legs as much as I could with my underwear still around my ankles. It was enough.

“Fuck.” I groaned as he pushed inside. He wasn't quite as big as Reed, but I hadn't been prepped at all and the intrusion was painful. It was a good kind of pain though, the kind that promised to wipe out the memories I didn't want, the kind that would leave my pussy sore. I knew the only sex I'd be thinking about would be this.

Brock grunted as he pounded into me, and just when I'd begun to think he was completely oblivious to my own needs, his hand moved around in front of me and his fingers dipped between my legs. There was no gentleness to his touch as he rubbed my clit. In fact, I cried out at the first pass, my muscles tensing up, but then my body began to respond and I let it happen.

When I felt him start to lose his rhythm and I wasn't quite there yet, I slid one hand under my dress and pushed aside my bra enough to get my fingers on my nipple. I closed my eyes and rolled the hard flesh between my fingers, sending shivers of pleasure through me to join with the sensations already there.

“Shit!” Brock called out as he slammed into me hard once, then twice and I knew he was coming. He pressed against my clit and I gave my nipple a twist, sending me over the edge.

I didn't make a sound as I shuddered, letting my climax wash over me, sobering me to an extent. Brock pulled out and I heard the familiar sound of a condom coming off. I didn't want to know where he was going to dispose of it. I pushed myself off the door and then bent to pull up my panties. I grimaced at how wet they were as they slid back into place, but at least some of the tension inside me was gone. That had been exactly what I needed.

I kept telling myself that until I almost believed it.





Chapter 5

Brock wanted to go on a date. An honest-to-goodness date. I had to admit, I'd been surprised when he dropped me off at the hotel and said he wanted to see me the next day. I thought for sure he'd invite himself up to get laid again, but he only asked if he could take me out, then gave me a practically chaste kiss and said he'd be by at noon.

I showered and fell asleep almost the moment my head hit the pillow. A queasy stomach and blinding headache had been my wake-up call this morning, but some water, ibuprofen and toast had taken the edge off. By the time Brock knocked on the door, I was dressed and ready to go. My flight was scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, so spending the day with Brock seemed like the perfect way to pass the rest of my time in the city.

“What's the plan?” I asked as I stepped out into the hallway.

“First, a picnic lunch.” He held up a basket.

I gave him a dubious look and he laughed, his eyes sparkling.

“Don't worry, I figured you might need something gentle after last night.”

Suddenly, I wasn't so sure his words were referring to my hangover. I was a bit sore from last night's encounter, but I didn't regret it.

He stopped in the middle of the hallway and faced me, his expression serious. “I really wish our first time together hadn't been like that. I mean, it was amazing, but I wish it would've been special.”

He was getting way too serious. I liked him, but I didn't want him getting all mushy on me. “You mean doing it in a janitor's closet during your sister's wedding reception wasn't special?” I quipped.

A grin broke across his face and I could see a bit of relief in his smile. I wondered if he thought I was going to make things out to be more than they were. He didn't need to worry about that. I chastised myself, remembering how I had said the same about Reed, that I wouldn’t have expectations of him either. But that was different because I had known him for so long, I really did think he’d be different. With Brock, I wasn't going to think of the future and since we didn't really have a past, I could stay comfortably in the present.

“Where are we going for our picnic?” I asked.

“To one of my favorite places,” he said. The look he gave me was almost shy.

We walked without talking, letting the sounds of the city be the only noise between us. I'd always considered myself a city girl, but there were cities and then there were cities; I hadn't realized how different Philadelphia was than other places until I'd moved away.

When Brock turned, I realized where we were going and smiled. Aside from the library, one of my favorite places to go as a kid had been here. Love Park with its sculpture and fountain was one of the city's favorite romantic spots. Not that I'd come here on dates much. Luc had brought me once, but most of the time I'd come by myself with one of my books and read.

“When Britni and I were kids, our nanny used to bring us here so she could meet her boyfriend,” Brock said. “My parents wouldn't let him in the house, so she'd arrange to meet him here. Britni hated it. She didn't like being outside and she used to complain all the time.”

That didn't exactly surprise me, but I didn't say it. I didn't want to talk bad about his sister. I had no idea what their relationship was like and, despite what I'd heard, I didn't know what kind of person she was. For all I knew, Rebecca had been the one to tell Britni I was a hooker and I could see someone being upset at their brother bringing a call girl to their wedding.

It was amazing how much perspective one could get after twenty-four hours and a good fuck.

I turned my attention back to Brock.

“On the really hot days, I used to take my shoes off and go wading in the water to cool off.”

“Me too,” I put in.

He gave me his boyish smile again. “Those are some of my favorite memories from being a kid.”

I reached over and threaded my fingers through his. “Mine too.”

We picked a spot under a couple trees and Brock spread a table cloth on the grass. I sat down and watched as he opened the basket.

“I moved out last year,” he said. “And I'm still getting used to the whole shopping and making my own food thing, so you can't laugh at anything I brought.”

I agreed, amused, but not for the reason he probably would've thought. I'd never considered how some things I took for granted as being common sense were only that way because I'd had to do them myself. It never occurred to me that a kid raised with servants doing the shopping and the food preparation wouldn't know how to do either on their own.

He actually managed a decent selection, including some mild cheese, crackers and fruit. He'd also brought plain bottled water instead of trying for something fancy. I appreciated his thoughtfulness. I'd never cared for carbonated water and I didn't think alcohol of any kind was a good idea at the moment. I told him how well he'd done and he beamed at me, as happy as a little boy being praised for being good. Warmth spread through me; I liked that a simple, honest compliment could make him so happy.

We kept the conversation light as we ate and I found myself feeling better than I'd felt since Reed and I had slept together. I was surprised to realize, as we joked about skinny-dipping in the fountain, how much I was enjoying my time with Brock. It wasn't about Reed anymore and paying him back for how he'd treated me, and it wasn't about letting Brock apologize for the bachelor party. This was about two people enjoying each other's company.

“When I asked you here and then said I wanted to take you out, this probably wasn't what you'd had in mind, was it?” he asked as he began to pack up the leftovers.

“No, it wasn't,” I answered honestly.

Brock frowned and he looked down. I put my hand on his wrist, immediately understanding how he'd taken my statement.

“It was better.”

He looked up, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You're really saying you aren't disappointed that I took you here with a picnic lunch instead of to some fancy restaurant?”

“Are you kidding?” I leaned closer to him, enjoying the spicy smell of his aftershave. It was different than Reed's, sharper, and I liked it. “That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

“Really,” I confirmed. “And, besides, why would I want to go to some fancy restaurant where it's obvious I don't belong.” I immediately regretted the words as soon as they came out. That wasn't the kind of thing anyone should say at the beginning of any relationship, even one that wasn't going to go very far.

I saw something pass over his face and wondered if he'd ask what I meant, try to pretend he understood or, worse, tell me I was being silly. Instead, he stood and stretched out his hand. I took it and he helped me to my feet. When I was standing, however, he didn't let go, sliding our hands around until our fingers were laced together. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about that, but I didn't pull away. I did like the way his hand felt against mine, the strength in those fingers.

“Come on,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

We walked in silence and I let myself enjoy being back in the city. It was funny, considering the size of Philly, how much quieter it was than Vegas. Back there, it was always loud with slot machines, entertainers and street performers all night long. People yelling out, trying to draw crowds into the shows. Streetwalkers calling out for dates. There was always noise, no matter the hour or day. In Vegas, there was no difference between Thanksgiving and every other Thursday. Sure, some of the places might close for the day, but never enough to lower the roar to any significant degree.