His Outlaw Valentine

I’ve waited too fucking long.

I keep her arms trapped inside the coat, locked behind her hips, and the position arches her back. The buttonholes of her shirt gape, bringing me the closest I’ve ever come to her naked breasts and I lean down now, releasing a hot breath over each of them. “I’ll kiss you, Jessie, but I won’t suck your little princess tits. No matter how hard you beg me.”

“What?” Those pretty mounds heave closer to my mouth. “Why?”

I hide my smile. I’ve thought endlessly about how to handle Jessie when I finally got my chance to take things to the next level. There isn’t another man alive who understands how her mind works better than me and I’ll use every tool at my disposal to make sure she doesn’t run away from me, and keeps coming back for more. If Jessie doesn’t believe us being together is her decision, it’s never going to happen. “I’ve freaked you out enough for one day,” I say. “If you want to be more than friends, we go slow. End of discussion.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I beat her to the punch.

“Same goes for your pussy. Understand? If I kiss you and you start rubbing it against me like a horny kitten, I’m going to take my tongue out of your perfect mouth. Are we clear?”

“Ryan. Wh-when d-did you start talking like this?”

“When did you start robbing convenience stores?”

She gasps and struggles a little in my grip. Sensing I’ve pushed her just enough, I swoop down and capture her mouth with mine. And ahhhh fuck, her taste is extraordinary. I’ve sucked on her forks and chewed her used gum before trying to discern her exact flavor, but nothing—nothing—compares to the real thing. She’s like a gasp of oxygen after living underwater, all cool and clean and delicious.

Her plump lips part beneath mine and my goddamn knees almost buckle, because our tongues snake together and she whimpers. The sound is a little irritated, too, like she’s sulking over my refusal to suck her tits and lick her pussy.

Jesus, I’m kissing Jessie, the love of my life. And her irritation seems to be fading quickly, her lips softening further, her tongue rubbing against mine with more and more enthusiasm. God, I would give anything to drag her thighs up around my waist and fit my cock inside her tight, virgin fuck hole right now, but I have to stick to my word. We’re going slow.

She makes slow very difficult when she arches closer, rubbing her straining tits side to side through my chest hair, mewling into my mouth. My dick is swollen, aching, dripping from the tip now, as if I didn’t jack off earlier. As if I haven’t touched myself in months, instead of the truth, which is I’ve been beating my cock raw since the day I saw her.

I’m kissing Jessie.

I’m kissing Jessie.

And if I ever want to do it again, I have to stop.

One more minute. Just one more.

I let go of her wrists, imprisoning her hips in my hands, my fingers memorizing the texture of her skin where it peeks out above her denim waistband. I’m so caught up in the kiss, I only make out the vague sound of her coat hitting the ground—and then her bare hands are on my chest, branding me, gliding over my shoulders and up into my hair. She lets out a frustrated whine, pulls on my hair and we go stumbling backward, sandwiching Jessie between me and the wall.

“Ryan,” she rasps, breaking the kiss, her eyes glazed with lust. Her hips make an enticing movement against mine and with my erection caught between my stomach and waistband, I come a little on my belly. “More,” she pleads.

Oh Christ, this is going to kill me.

“No,” I say firmly and step back. “We stop at kissing for now.”

“I don’t want to stop.”

She says that now. But if we sleep together too soon, before she’s had a chance to consider us being a lot more than friends from every angle, she’ll have a full-blown panic attack afterwards. I have to handle this perfectly.

Or I’ll blow my shot with the only woman I’ll ever love.

“No more, Jessie,” I manage, though it’s painful as hell. “Now get your clothes off. Keeping you safe means taking precautions. I have to burn these.”

I’m not lying just to get her naked. The convenience store owners can give a physical description of her, at least from the neck down. And dammit, I still don’t know why she was desperate enough to rob a store. Again, I suspect her mother is involved, somehow. The woman returns to Philly every so often and leans on Jessie for cash. I usually find a way to provide Jessie with the money, without her realizing it’s me. Like planting a wallet of cash with no identification in the park where she walks every afternoon. Or bribing one of her customers to give her an extravagant tip. I’ve been working so hard lately, her mother’s arrival somehow evaded my notice and it’ll never happen again.