Twist (Dive Bar 2)

A xx

Fingers dug into my hair and his mouth covered mine, hot and hungry. There was no going slow. We were a car crash, a catastrophe. His tongue in my mouth and my hands pushing at his coat, tearing at his T-shirt. One large hand slid down over my spine, grabbing my ass and kneading, while the other cradled the back of my head.

Whiskers from his beard tickled the end of my nose and I pulled back, sneezing.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"You all right?" he asked, eyes darker than I'd ever seen them.

I nodded. "Mmhmm."

And we went right back to it, lips mashed together, my tongue sliding over his teeth. For a moment his hands left me then his coat hit the floor. What a brilliant idea.

"Get it off," I demanded, pushing up his shirt. He ripped it off over his head while I went to work on his belt buckle. What a team effort. The bulge beneath his jeans looked so damn tempting, it made my mouth water. I slid my hand over it, pressing against the hard length of him, stroking him with my palm.

"Fuck," he said, covering my hand with his own, making me work him harder.

His other hand covered the front of my neck as if he were gently collaring me, thumb grazing my skin. Again and again, he pressed his lips to my mouth. Such sweet kisses, I couldn't get enough of them. I chased his mouth, trying to keep contact for longer. The asshole just smiled.

Butterflies didn't cover it. There were pterodactyls inside my stomach, swooping and screeching and flying around. Not even they, however, could compete with the throbbing ache in my pussy.

"We need less clothes," I said, voice shaking. Damn it.

"Yeah."

With one final kiss he let me go and the race was on. He tore open the button on my pants, wrenched down the zip. All the while my blood beat hard, pushing us to go faster, to get him into me quicker. It required more balance than I possessed to toe off my shoes. I clung to his thick shoulders before I hit the floor. Once he had my pants undone and down to my knees, he threw me onto the bed.

I shit you not.

Those big hands gripped my hips and I went flying through the air, landing on my ass with the happily soft mattress bouncing me around. My eyes must have been like twin moons. I'd never been a small, fragile creature; however, people didn't normally just throw me around. Apparently he was in an even greater rush than I.

Off came my pants; he sent them sailing before starting in on his own. Then from his back pocket he produced a condom and threw it onto the bed beside me. We were ready.

"You still with me?" he asked, standing at the end of the bed in forest-green boxer briefs with one hell of a hard-on pointing right at me. "Alex?"

"Y-yes."

A nod.

"Come here," I urged him on, beckoning him closer with my greedy hands.

He climbed onto the bed, situating himself between my spread legs. Much, much better. Our mouths got back together, and it was like they'd never been apart. Wet, feverish kisses. Hot hands slid over my skin, undoing the clasp on the back of my bra. And all the while he rocked against me, rubbing his length along the lips of my sex, making my eyes roll back into my head. God, it felt so good.

Just to be safe, I wrapped my legs around him good and tight. It wouldn't do to let him get away now.

If it weren't for the underwear we were still wearing, everything would be close to perfect. I was so swollen and wet, and we'd barely even gotten started. My bra disappeared, care of his clever hands, and his warm mouth trailed over my chest. The beard was weird. It was sort of soft, not scratchy, yet still made for a bizarre contrast to his smooth lips.

Foil crinkled and he drew back onto his knees, pushing down his boxers and taking his cock in hand. Now, this I needed to see. Thick, long, hard, perfect. He rolled on the condom, not taking his eyes off me for a moment.

"Pretty," he said, trailing his fingers down the middle of my chest, between my breasts, stopping at my panties. "But these need to go."

And so they did.

The heat of his big body covered me, his eyes staring deep into mine. Then the broad head of his cock eased between my labia, pushing slowly but insistently into me, stretching me. All the while, he kept staring at my face like he was trying to memorize it or something.

This was not casual. Nothing about this felt casual.

The thought, no, the knowledge, sent panic rising up inside me. Except Joe's hips were pressing into mine, his body angled just right to put the loveliest pressure on my clit. The thrill of it eclipsed all else. Immediately he started pulling back, drawing the thick length of his cock out of me. Every nerve ending inside of me sung, pleasure racing through my veins. When he pushed back in again, it was a little faster, a bit rougher. And he kept that up until the bed's headboard started shaking.

It felt fucking awesome.

I wrapped my legs around him once more and tilted my hips, taking him deeper. Again and again he thrust into me, and every time it only got better. Sweat covered our skin and the sound of our heavy breathing filled the room. More hair escaped his ponytail, sticking to his face. This man was so beautiful. Also, what he could do with his dick was fucking magical.

Fingers buried in my hair, keeping me right where he wanted me. The man had me mesmerized. I couldn't have looked away from him if I'd tried.

My legs shook, every muscle drawing tighter and tighter as the fire inside me grew. Apparently my heart had been replaced, because my pussy and clit were throbbing like they were the new center of my world. The feel of him burying himself deep, time and again, was the most perfect sensation. From the top of my head to my toes curled tight, nothing else mattered except him and me and this exquisite heat growing between us.

When he reached down between us, sliding his thumb around and over my clit, I exploded. Boom. Total whiteout. My breath caught in my throat and my body drew tight. Wave after wave of aftershocks rushed through me. Joe's hand curled tight in my hair and he ground himself against me, hips bucking. His hot breath warmed my neck as he buried his face.

Done. We were both totally done. Dead even.

I was a quivering wet mess barely able to breathe. Yet still those wonderful little ripples spread through me, the muscles in my pussy still weakly trying to seize him, keep him inside. Who could blame them? Joe, the man formerly known as just my friend, was some kind of fucking sex god. It was all too much. Suddenly I needed some space.

"Excuse me." I pushed at his hot, sweaty, oversize body. "Joe?"

Immediately, he got off me, lying at my side. Even his softening cock sliding out of my sex felt right.

"Hey, you all right?" he asked, hand drifting over my hip.

"Yeah, I just, I need a minute." I climbed off the mattress and headed straight for the bathroom, locking the door.

Bright lights blinded me, making dots dance across my field of vision. The cold tile floor and cool air-conditioning made my skin goose-pimple, my nipples harden even more. Hell, the girl in the mirror looked like shit. I mean, well fucked, but still. Swollen lips and messy hair, red marks from his fingers everywhere. It was the look in her eyes, though, that tipped me too far and I burst into tears.

*

Polite knocking came not too long after.

"Alex, you okay?" he asked, voice subdued.

"Yes," I lied, turning on the cold tap and splashing my blotchy hot face. Ugh, my eyes were a mess, all red and puffy. Charming. I'd totally do me again if I were Joe.

"So that wasn't you who ran from the bed and locked herself in the bathroom to cry?"

Smartass. I didn't bother to answer. Instead, I brushed out my hair and took a few good deep breaths. Put on the hotel robe hanging on the back of the door and tried to pull my shit together. It helped a little. But I still really didn't want to go out there and face him. Maybe I could give myself a facial, it would burn some time. Eventually, the man would have to get bored and leave. Surely. Then this whole embarrassing episode could be dealt with another day. Or never. Never would be fine.

"Way I see it, you have two choices," he said, obviously standing close to the door. "One. You can come out here and talk to me. Or two. I can go down to the truck, grab my tools, and break the lock or just break this whole damn door. Your call."

"Asshole," I whispered.

"I can hear you."

With a sigh, I gave in and opened the door.

The condom was gone, but otherwise he remained unchanged. Damn, he looked good.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi."

"Did I hurt you?" Concern creased his brow.

"No. No, you didn't. Nothing like that. I like rough, I just..." Shit. I had no words. "Sorry."

He shrugged. "Sometimes women cry after sex. It's not a big deal. Just a release of stress or something."

Hmm. Maybe.

Gently, he reached out, taking my hand. Behind him the bed was trashed, blankets and sheets a mess. Also, the room smelled of sex. Typical me to turn something so good into a big heap of bad.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he said, slowly swinging our hands between us like we were children.

"That I have this talent for ruining things."

"You didn't ruin anything." He shook his head. "Nearly gave me a fucking heart attack. But you didn't ruin anything."

"Oh good. That's good." I should probably go easy on the sarcasm. Someday. "I don't normally cry. That doesn't usually happen."

His gaze softened. "What normally happens?"

"I get dressed, say 'it was nice to meet you,' and leave."

Joe just looked at me.

It was the truth. I wouldn't lie to him or try to make excuses. Because the same as any man, women were entitled to a fuss-free sex life should they so choose. And it didn't make us sluts, or whores, or any of the other nasty, misogynistic, double-standard bullshit that got thrown a woman's way when she didn't fit with the traditional ideals of who and what a female should be.