His Sexy Cheerleader

But I wasn’t going to stand around and wait for her to figure out that there was something between us. Hell, after what I’d experienced over the phone, I realized there was something between us that I couldn’t describe but I wanted more.

I wanted the real deal.

And so did Layla — I just had to show her.

Donning my iconic vampire costume, I walked into the haunted mansion where the sorority had done a great job of dressing up the abandoned Shackleford mansion and spent a little time taking in the frights. People were milling around, going from room to room, and there were delighted shrieks as things jumped from darkened corners or dangled from the ceiling to bounce into unsuspecting faces.

In all, good job.

But I wasn’t there for a good scare.

I climbed the stairs, going straight for Layla’s room. I saw her before she saw me, my heart skipping a beat. She was dressed as a vampire bride, her costume tight and revealing, dipping obscenely low in the cleavage and riding high on her thighs. Her long legs were covered in fishnet — my fucking weakness — and her hair tumbled in golden waves down her back. I fell back into the shadows, watching her do her thing while the last of the people funneled their way out of her room. She was the vampire bride, coming to lure unsuspecting victims to her deathly embrace.

Once the room was clear, she dropped her act, pausing to drink from a bottled water hidden behind bed and I realized she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

Maybe I’d always known this but I’d always just glossed over the fact by calling her “hot” but she was more than that.

She was, in every sense of the word, a keeper.

That was scary as fuck.

The thing was, I was just as guilty as the next guy of bypassing the smart girl for the girl with the nice tits but with Layla, it became obvious I’d been settling for fucking hamburger when I’d been hungry for steak all along. I might’ve been chasing Layla all these years for all the wrong reasons but now that I had my head on straight, nothing was going to distract me.

The crowds had died down, it was getting late. People were either moving onto other parties or going home. I stepped out of the shadow, causing her to jump.

“Holy fuck, you scared me,” she exclaimed, her hand going to her chest. “You creeper, what are you doing?”

“Watching you do your thing,” I answered with a grin. “I like your vampire seductress act. Very convincing. I’d let you have my immortal soul.”

“As if you have one.” She allowed a smirk but I could tell she was thinking of that phone call. “What are you really doing here?” she asked.

“I wanted to see you.”

“I should’ve hung up,” Layla said simply, going there. “I never should’ve went there. It was inappropriate.”

“Fuck that. It was perfect.” I wasn’t going to let her back down. “And you know it was.”

Something flashed in her eyes and that heat kindled. I stepped toward her. “The thing about fantasies is that they represent our deepest, darkest desires.”

“Not always,” she disagreed, dancing out of my reach, putting the bed between us. The black and crimson bedding draped on the bed was something out of a ‘80s horror flick, cheesy and perfect. I couldn’t wait to fuck her on it. “Sometimes it’s just nonsense that we stuff in our heads to get off.”

“Why are you lying to yourself? Are you that threatened by what you felt between us?” I asked, pushing her buttons. “Are you so afraid that you might feel something for me?”

“I’m not going to feel something for someone who is guaranteed to hurt me,” she said.

“I won’t hurt you.”

“You will.”

“Only if you ask me to.”

Her pupils dilated and her breath caught. Her teeth snagged on her plump bottom lip and I wanted to taste that sweet mouth. I wanted to bend her over my knee and slap that ass, feel that flesh bounce under my palm. I wanted to hear her cry out as I gave her pleasure and pain.

“Oz, this isn’t going to happen,” she said.

“I beg to differ. It’s already happening,” I said. “You’re just in denial.”

“Why me? There are plenty of women out there who would give their left tit to be the girl on your arm.”

“They aren’t you,” I answered with a shrug.

“You don’t want me. You just want what you haven’t had.”

“Stop saying that — it’s a cop out and it’s beneath you.” It was a sharp rebuke but I wasn’t going to let her hide any longer. “You’re too smart to keep accepting that bullshit as truth.”

“It’s not bullshit.”

I leveled my gaze, daring her to keep holding to that lie. I was going to make her see the truth between us. The time for running was over. I finally figured out what I wanted, what I needed and it was Layla.

Only Layla.

There was something startlingly primal between us that I’d never felt with anyone else. Maybe that was why I’d never stuck around with anyone either. I’d always known that deeper connection was reserved for Layla and substitions would never satisfy.

And I could tell she wanted it too.

I sensed that need in her.

I wanted to be that man.

“What is happening?” she asked, shaking her head as I came toward her.

“What should’ve happened a long time ago,” I answered, my mouth closing over hers. My tongue sought hers, finding and conquering. My mind blanked, I was in a wild place. In all my fantasies, nothing compared to having Layla in my arms, her body pressed against mine, as I fevered to touch every inch of her.

I growled, eager to taste where tight lace dared to cover, resentful of the corset that bound her breasts from me.

“This is insane,” she murmured, gasping as I sought that wet heat beneath her seductress gown, finding that damp slit with a hungry grin. I lifted her in my arms and tossed her to the bed. She laughed with a small yelp as I pulled my cape free and dropped it to the floor. “We can’t do this here,” she exclaimed but I knew she didn’t want me to stop. I’d sell tickets at this point. Nothing was going to stop me from claiming my girl. I’d waited three years to taste Layla, nothing was going to stop me now. Kicking the door shut, I returned to slowly unbutton my shirt. She watched, sloe-eyed until I was bare-chested, her tongue darting to wet her bottom lip. “You’re too fucking hot for your own good,” she murmured, shaking her head as if she couldn’t help but love the view, then narrowed her gaze, saying, “Get over here and eat me.”

“Oh, you don’t have to ask me twice, baby girl.” Lifting her gown, I feasted my gaze on the dewy lips of her pussy, hungry for that sweet kitty. “Pretty as a fucking picture,” I murmured before I descended on that clit like a fucking monster. I was ravenous. I wanted to devour her soul through her vagina. I believed in eating pussy like a fat kid ate cake. Get in there, put your face in it and just go to town. None of this dainty shit, just the tip of the tongue, no, I put my whole face into it, I want to slather my face in pussy juice so that by the time I’m finished, I look like a fucking glazed donut.

Layla cried out, her hands clutching the comforter with a death grip as I nuzzled her mons, sucked her swollen clit and slipped two fingers inside her to stroke her G-spot. You had to be merciless when it came to eating pussy. Take no prisoners. I wanted her soaked with her own juices and my spit. Done right, sex was messy business and I liked doing it right.

I wanted her sloppy wet so by the time I broke her apart, I could slide right in. God, she tasted so good. I could eat her all day. Better than any fantasy.

“Ozz!”

Her thighs started to tremble and I grinned even as I pushed her harder. I knew she was about to come so I slowed my tempo. I wanted her to know I was in control when she came. The knowledge made her wetter. She groaned harder. I stroked her harder, her G-spot swollen and rough, demanding a pounding. I sucked her clit, pushing the hood back gently so I could send her into orbit.

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“Oh God, Oz, oh God,” she started to wail and I knew it was coming again. I grinned, deciding this time I would let her come. I kept up the same pace and within seconds, she shattered with a loud and satisfying cry as she shuddered, losing herself over and over. I gave her the slightest moment to breathe and then I started again, sending her hurtling into multiple orgasms until she was practically begging me to stop. “Ohhh, ohhhh, God….” Breathing hard, and staring at the ceiling, Layla laid there, a beautiful spent doll.

My doll.

Except — I wasn’t done with her yet.

I unbuckled my pants and pulled my cock free.

“Baby girl, my turn.”

Layla barely had time to register before I was sheathing my cock with a condom and flipping her over. That beautiful ass, the one I’d fantasized about, heart-shaped and plump, fit perfectly in my palms as I hauled her to me and pushed my thick length slowly inside her dripping wet core.

Holy fuck.

I’ve found my fucking soulmate.

Driving myself deep with a shuddering groan, I lost myself in the pleasure of going balls deep inside the only woman who could handle my entire length without whimpering.