Porterhouse (Grade-A Beefcakes 4)

“I couldn’t come. I was… frigid,” I admitted.

“Frigid? Fuck,” he breathed, closing his eyes for a second. “Cash bolted because it was too good. You freaked him out a little.”

I climbed from the bed. Paced back and forth on the soft carpet. “A little? He left because I was too good. Too good? Yeah, right. That makes no sense. What guy does that?” I waved my arms, pissed off.

Bennett sat up, let the sheet slip to his waist. My gaze dropped to his six-pack abs and my thoughts scattered. He patted the bed beside him. “Come here.”

I huffed, then climbed back into the bed, plopped myself down beside him. The t-shirt I wore rode high on my thighs and he slid the hem up so the material bunched under my armpits. He looked down at me, then ran a hand over my skin. My belly, my hip, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast. “This body… gorgeous. These tits, a perfect handful. Your soft skin, hot beneath my palm.” He moved his hand down between my legs. “This pussy… wet for me. You’re not frigid. You were obviously in bed with the wrong man.”

I was warming beneath his touch, beneath the words.

“I thought… perhaps… you had phone sex with me because you didn’t want me in your bed.”

He shoved his hips forward so his hard on was on display. I hadn’t had much of a look of it earlier in the auto shop, but now I could see how big it was. Thick. The taut skin was darker than the rest of him, the crown wide, and I was distracted wondering how that had fit in me. My pussy clenched remembering, was a little sore because of it. “Does this look like I don’t want you?”

I shook my head.

“You came for us, screamed our names,” he continued. “Fuck, you were the sweetest thing ever. Pretty dress, even prettier lacy underthings. Your creamy tits out for us. Don’t get me started on your pussy, especially seeing our names on that little bare spot.”

I flushed, having completely forgotten it was even there.

“You realize I haven’t had a taste.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied, warming up to his touch.

“Don’t be. Cash is being an ass. He’ll come around. I promise.”

I grabbed his wrist, stilled his hand. Felt the corded muscles beneath my palm. I could barely put thoughts together when he touched me like this. “No, I mean, I’m sorry for being so upset. I shouldn’t be. I… I just met both of you yesterday. It’s not Cash’s problem I got so… attached. He has every right to bail. I mean, it’s not like we were in a relationship.”

“Angel,” he chided. “Relationship? What we have is bigger than that. We’re not dating, we’re not just fucking. One look and I was done.” He pulled his hand from my hold, cupped my pussy again and met my gaze. “I didn’t write my name here just for fun. I was serious. This pussy’s mine. You’re mine. You’ll be Cash’s, too, tomorrow. Just wait and see. He’s got issues to work though, but they’re his to tell you about. Then you’ll understand, forgive, and have incredible make-up sex. But you can let him grovel a little first.”

I smiled then. Nothing had changed, but I felt better. I really had only known Cash and Bennett for a little over twenty-four hours. I’d cried in bed for six of them, upset at Cash. He’d been a jerk, that was for sure, but I shouldn’t have been that upset.

But everything was different with these two. Time was irrelevant. I just knew.

“All right, I’ll make him grovel.”

His hand went to my hip and rolled us so he was on his back and I was lying on top of him. I shifted my legs, straddled his waist. He gripped the bottom of the t-shirt and lifted it over my head, tossed it to the floor.

“Want to go for a ride?” he asked, hands moving from my hips and up to cup my breasts.

“Bennett,” I breathed, letting my eyes fall closed.

“Pussy too sore to play?”

I shook my head, reached back and took him in hand. He really was bigger than the dildo. His dick was hot to the touch, silky soft beneath my palm but rock hard.

Bennett hissed and his hips bucked.

I lifted up, already ready for him. I wanted him in me. Now. And when he slid into me, one thick inch at a time, I opened for him. Remembered how he felt.

“Wait,” he said, tugging me off him.

“What?” I asked, my hands settling on his chest.

“Condom. Gotta protect you, Angel.”

I shook my head and studied his clenched jaw. “Nothing between us. I want to feel every inch of you. I want the heat of your cum filling me. You may have put your name on me, but you didn’t mark me. Not yet.”