I'm speechless. He's completely lost his mind, and I'm going to pieces for this psycho's dirty talk. I'm about to start my car and drive right over him, but he lets me go in one swift jerk, flashing me those sultry, determined green eyes again.
I'm flushed, melting down inside like the scared little virgin I am. But I'm determined to have him, to prove to myself I can do this.
“Tomorrow,” I mutter, unable to get my mind off his dick, which is still hard and outlined in his tight jeans. “Let's make an evening of it.”
“Goodnight, Delia.”
He nods to me and backs up, leaning against the car next to me. He watches me start my car and back out, and I know his eyes don't skip a beat until I'm out of sight.
I don't notice my hands shaking on the steering wheel until I'm halfway home. If it weren't for dad's text, I would've fucked a complete stranger. And not just any mystery man, but a tall, brash, heavily tattooed badass – the total opposite of every clean college boy I ever dated.
Am I losing my mind? Am I completely drunk, or just so horny I couldn't help it?
I don't know, but I'm going to text him tomorrow. I can't walk away when I'm so damned close to finally losing it with a man who makes all my senses purr.
Tomorrow's so bright, so lively, so vibrant I can practically taste it.
I'll eat light tomorrow at the family luncheon and skip through the snorefest meeting my new stepbrother. Then, I'll get in touch with Chris and we'll find a bar, maybe a quiet restaurant. Hell, maybe we'll just head straight to his place.
I'm barely old enough to drink, and way too old not to fuck. It's just one night. It's just sex. It's not forever, right?
No, I've made up my mind. There's no way one more meeting with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dirty can hurt. Especially not if it involves me pinned down underneath him, screaming in all the ways he's promised.
I want to find out how long it takes between my legs before he breaks too, tensing and groaning, melting into me.
II: On Target (Chris)
My last night in Iraq wasn't half as frustrating as this. I watch the beach hottie pull away and do a tight turn out of the lot.
My dick hammers in my pants like a jet engine. Christ, I need to fuck this girl. I need to fuck her so bad I punched in my digits, giving her a second chance, twenty-four hours to get ready for everything I've got.
And I'm going off like dynamite when I finally get her alone. I think about all the ways I'll be in her soon, fisting those long, dark locks the entire time.
I want it all, every damned inch of her. Under me, up on all fours, riding my cock while I slap her round ass, an ass that's just the right kinda thick built to make me come lightning.
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Fuck. I didn't show up on this beach shopping for fresh meat. If I was hellbent on getting my dick hot and wet tonight, then I'd walk towards the fire pit and mingle with the drunken chicks I saw earlier.
I'm used to girls dropping their panties in a heartbeat. And I'd have had Delia's in my pocket already, or maybe stuffed into her mouth, if it hadn't been for the goddamned phone.
I don't want a random slut. I want her.
Something about Delia glows a hundred times hotter than them. Maybe it's because she's clean, soft, and pure, a good girl begging for the right man to tear apart the mask she wears.
Or maybe it's just those perky, palm-sized tits I had in my palms. Thinking about her rosy nipples makes me kick the sand, pissed that I've got a whole day to wait before I find out how quick I can make turn them soft with my tongue, my teeth, my roaming hands.
I'm not sure what to make of her just yet beyond the fucking, and that's part of the fun.
She didn't kiss like a rich, pretentious little girl either. When my lips landed on hers, I felt fire, and almost stumbled away with scorch marks on my tongue. My hips jammed my cock against her sweet pussy, separated only by a few thin layers of sopping wet fabric.
Chemistry? Fuck, it was more like a whole goddamned lab.
I know I'm fucked when I'm finally collecting my diving gear, gathering up my bag, and heading for my car, and I'm still thinking about her coming on my fingertips.
That little whimper she made right before I pinched her clit? It's burned into my skull all night, and if she turns coward tomorrow, it's gonna be damned hard finding a chick who sounds like that to take her place.
I hope like hell my threat to keep coming back to daddy's beach sunk in. I mean every word.
No woman ever leaves Chris Cleveland high and dry, and I'm sure as shit not going on my next mission with her pussy on my mind, unknown and unconquered.
I'm going to hit it 'til I'm bored of her sweet cunt, or else disappear like I always do when Uncle Sam sends me overseas again. That's my MO, what always works, and adding her notch to my bedpost sounds pretty damned good before I do my duty and return to find a new girl to fuck.