No Pink Caddy (ACE Book 1) (16 page)

See if this chemistry is real. Make love until the sun rises. See if I’m still this attached to you after sex.
“I have many fantasies to act out.” I giggle.

He laughs and flips me so we’re in the middle of bed but he’s now on top. “Sweetheart, use me to make your dreams come true.”

His lips meet mine, and our slow dance begins. The rain hitting the roof supplies the background music. He’s not rushed, so I’m not either. Lazily, we kiss as our tongues find their own rhythm. He drags a finger down the side of my breast, across my ribs, and to the point of my hip. I moan in appreciation.

Aaron gives equal attention to my ear and the pulse point on my neck. Gasping, I scratch his back and work my way to his firm behind. Denim against his rock-hard ass is stuff of legends. I love the buttery softness of the material, but it’s keeping my hands from exploring the real thing.

My fingers work their way to the waistband of his pants, but I get distracted when his full lips latch on to my taut nipple. His other hand grabs my breast as he starts to massage it. Gasping loudly, I wrap my arms around him, kneading his shoulder muscles.

His mouth moves to the other nipple as the sensual massage begins on the other breast. My hips buck up from the mattress as I grind against his pelvis. He’s set the slow tempo, but I just don’t know how much more patient I can be.

“Please,” I beg as his hair tickles my lips.

He releases my nipple with a pop and blows soft puffs of air across it. “Please what?” His half-cocky smile is panty-drenchingly beautiful. His eyes are heavy with lust.

“Please fuck me, Aaron.” My center grinds against his hardness.

“You’re not ready yet, sweetheart.” One of his fingers runs along the skin just underneath the elastic of my panties, and I moan.

I push into his hand. “I promise I am.” Reaching down, I make quick work of disposing of my thong.

He continues to tease me, just bringing his finger to my center before pulling away. My skin is on fire. I think I might explode. He conducts tease after tease after tease before he forcefully slips his finger inside. I all but orgasm on his hand.

“Oh God, Aaron. Please,” I beg. “I can’t get any relief.” My hips gyrate on his finger as he tweaks my still wet nipple.

“You’ve tried?” he asks with turned head and inquisitive eyes.

“My toys haven’t even taken the edge off.” I moan as I writhe under his touch.

His face lights up like a boy would with a new bike. “Holy fuck, sweetheart. You masturbated to me?”

My hips rotate, seeking relief. “Yes.”

“That’s so fucking hot.” His huge bulge looks like it might burst out of the worn denim. With a cocky smile, he says, “That’s it. Ride my finger.”

Then, he slips in another and I see stars, but this isn’t enough. I need him. “I don’t want to come on your hand. I want you, Aaron. Please fuck me.” I reach forward and undo the top button on his jeans. His zipper slides down as if it was begging for the invitation. My fingers find his warm, throbbing cock, and I free it from captivity. He pushes up into a plank position and makes quick work of sliding his jeans down to his knees. He uses his foot to push them to his ankle, and then they’re sent flying across the room.

Just the tip of his cock brushes against my neatly trimmed hair. I want to feel him, so I reach down and grasp the torment of my day and night dreams. There are girls on my blog who complain about penises and say they don’t find them attractive. I’m not one of them. I love a beautiful cock, and I want to admire Aaron’s.

“Sit against the wall,” I order.

He looks puzzled for a moment, but he does as I ask. His sculpted body is on full display.

Admiring his lean muscle and the lines of sinew on his arms, I shift back on my heels. Flashes of lightning casts interesting shadows on his rigid muscles. His body is a work of art. I start at the top. Blond hair parts in the middle of his head and dusts along his chin. Sculpted cheekbones highlight his chiseled face while his full, pouty lips are the perfect juxtaposition. Aaron’s long neck meets taut traps and pec muscles that are mouthwatering.

Numerous tattoos use his gorgeous body as their canvas. I long to explore each one and find out its significance. His abs are defined and meet to form a perfect
V
leading to my favorite part of his anatomy. His cock. There are no words. It’s long, and thick, and almost meets his belly button. A perfect dollop of moisture rests at the tip. He’s model beautiful but sexy enough to be a porn star.

“Come sit on my lap.”

I take a mental snapshot of his smile so I can remember it forever.

“No.” I lean back and spread my legs, showing him my center. “I want to enjoy the view for a moment.” I don’t bother doing this for Aaron’s pleasure. This is one hundred percent for me. I tease my clit, pinching and kneading it between my forefinger and thumb.

“Oh, fuck, sweetheart. Really?” Aaron groans and then grabs his dick with his fist. He slides his hand up and down on his shaft. My fingers rub my slit, spreading my wetness all over my core.

“Turn around,” he orders. “I want to watch you in the mirror.”

I reposition myself so my back is to Aaron but I can see both of us in the large mirror. His eyes are half-open, beautiful, and they watch with such hedonistic pleasure that I could probably come without touching myself.

My finger teases my slit before sliding inside to my second knuckle. I know my body inside and out, so finding my G-spot isn’t an issue. I massage it while watching Aaron pleasure himself. I want to throw my head back but I don’t dare break the contact of our eyes which have met in the mirror.

“Is this how you want to come?” he rasps.

“No. I want you.” My head drops back without my permission, breaking our stare.

There’s movement behind me, but I don’t stop to see what’s happening. Then Aaron is standing in front of me with a condom already on. “This is what you want?” He grasps his cock.

I nod and direct his hips to where my finger was. As he pushes inside, I yell in delight. He stops for a second, allowing me to adjust to his size before he continues.

I always thought the saying
he completes me
was stupid. No human being should have the power to make another whole. But finally, with Aaron’s dick inside, filling me to the brim, I realize this connection is what I’ve needed my whole life.

“I want to fuck you,” I tell him.

He looks confused for a second before he lies down and I crawl on top. I ride his cock like this is the last time I’ll ever get to, and it might be. He’s warned me away enough times, and I don’t have any confidence that there is a tomorrow for us. So I milk every bit of pleasure out of him before I explode so violently I cry out before collapsing on his chest. He finishes in a flurry of groans and thrusts with his hands grabbing my hips so hard I’m sure I’ll be deliciously bruised in the morning. As we come down, a lightning show punctuates our act with spectacular fireworks.

Aaron discards the condom by tying it off and dropping it on the floor near my shoes. He pulls me against his chest and plants kisses on the side of my face. My bangs tickle my nose, and without asking, he tucks them behind my ear. “That was fucking amazing.”

“You aren’t so bad yourself,” I reply as my eyes grow heavy.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart. Dream of me.”

Carrie Barnes
@BarnesbyCarrie

I think
NoPinkCaddy
is the coolest chick on the Internet. More ball pics. Please.

Addison James
@AddyLouWho

Is it wrong that I’m cheering for
NoPinkCaddy
to stay single? I want her to stay one of us. #SorryNotSorry

I fell asleep cradled in his arms, but when I awoke a few minutes ago, I was all alone. It doesn’t appear as if his side of the bed has been touched. There’s no clock in the bedroom, and my phone is with my bag by the front door. It’s still dark outside, but the rain has stopped.

The discarded robe lies at the foot of the bed. I wrap myself in the plush material, draping it around me like a quilt, and seek out the man who is still such a mystery to me. Our night felt real. Aaron seemed to have let his guard down. I loved our conversation before we had sex, but I have real doubts about why he keeps trying to scare me away. It’s almost as if I’m the rope in a tug-of-war game. Aaron seems so ready and willing to open himself up to a new relationship, but Johnny pushes me away, gives me warnings, as if he can’t leave me alone and wants me to be the one who runs from this.

Following the strums of the guitar, I find him in the living room. He’s dressed again in the worn denim and nothing else. His hair acts as a shield, hiding his profile. The notebook which was in front of him at Eddy’s Bar rests to the side of his leg. Aaron strums a few notes on the guitar and then picks up a pen to make notes.

A lamp in the corner casts the room in a soft glow, bathing Aaron in yellow light. He looks like an angel, but not the kind you see depicted in children’s books. No. He’s more of the fallen angel seen in famous works of art.

I lean against the doorframe, watching him in action. His head rises, and he looks up at the ceiling. Humming noises fill the room before he picks up the pen and writes again.

Jeannie mentioned he was here to work on a new album. I assume that’s what he’s doing now. Does he ever sleep?

What should I do?
I’m no longer sleepy and I want him back in bed, but he’s working, and I don’t think disturbing him is a good idea. Fortunately, the decision is made for me when he looks to his side and our eyes meet.

A huge smile reveals his white teeth, and he motions for me to join him on the couch. I bounce over to his side like a puppy in need of a head scratch. He closes his notebook and pats the empty cushion next to him.

My hand rests on his upper thigh as his picks up his guitar and begins to strum.

“Do you recognize the song?”

“No, but like I told you. I’m kind of a music idiot. I just like what I like.”

He plays more of the song, which sounds beautiful. I lean against his shoulder and close my eyes, getting lost in the magical sound he’s creating.

“You asleep?” he whispers when he’s finished.

“No. I’m in bliss.”

“What’s that?” His voice is filled with mirth.

“It’s a great place I’ve found. A really cute boy with long blond hair who plays the guitar and sings like an angel introduced me to it.”

“Damn, sweetheart.” He stands up, resting the guitar on the other cushion, and offers me his hand. “Let’s go back to bliss.”

We welcome the dawn together—him on top of me. The lack of clock in the bedroom would normally drive me mad, but when I’m with Aaron, time is a relative concept and one which doesn’t exist in bliss.

“I’ve got to go home.” I sigh, not the least bit happy about leaving.

He brushes my bangs out of my eyes and kisses my forehead. “What are your plans for today?”

“Church with the family and then dinner afterwards. Plus, Sundays I usually spend most of the day working on my site. What about you?”

“Never plan my day. Just do what I do.” He caresses my leg, making it very hard for me to go home.

With great reluctance, I slide out of his embrace and walk to the front door naked to retrieve my bag. Thanks goodness I don’t have to go home in my beaded gown and high-heeled shoes. I would have to Uber, and could you imagine the fun stories the driver would have to tell?

My flowery bag lands on the corner of the bed with a plop. I don’t bother with underwear, and I’m not sure exactly when Aaron or I removed them and where they would be to look. I grab my yoga pants, sliding one leg on.

Aaron whines. “Do you have to get dressed?”

“Unfortunately.” My other leg steps into the pants, and I bring them just over my hips.

Once again, I forgo undergarments and wear my sweatshirt without a bra. I could have dug it out of my bag, but what’s the point? My necklace is safely returned around my neck. I spot the edge of my thong sticking out from under the bed. I grab it, shoving it and my heels in my bag. “Mind if I leave my dress here? I’ll get it when my hands aren’t full.”

“Would you like for Seamus to drive you home?” He props his head on the pillow I had been using, looking as if he’s ready to fall back asleep.

“No. It’s a nice walk, not far, and it’s quit raining.”

His eyes droop and he rolls over, pulling the comforter around his ear.

I keep waiting for him to get out of bed and walk me out or tell me he’ll call me later. But he doesn’t. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s asleep before I close the front door.

After a night of storms, the streets glisten in the morning light. The Crape Myrtles have lost more of their leaves, leaving their branches bare. The bark is peeling on one, and I stop and take a piece. The raw trunks in winter are just as beautiful to me as when they’re filled with blossoms.

A tiny plant struggles to bloom in a crack in the sidewalk. Locals complain about how poorly our streets and sidewalks are maintained. I get it. It would be nice to walk down the street without my heel getting snagged, but seeing this little plant growing against all odds in just a bit of dirt gives me hope. We all can thrive where we are. This plant and I bond. It’s not practical to grow in cement. The seed dared to be bold and brave to grow here instead of in the rich, lush soil just a foot away.

I take out my camera and snap a pic of the plant and make it the background on my phone. It’s a reminder for me not to settle for the mundane and ordinary when I can be extraordinary.

Whistling Willie is out early today playing bongos on his corner. With a wink, he yells, “You had a good night.”

I smile and walk over to him. “I had a great night.”

“Dance for me, beautiful. God gave you rhythm. Use it.” His beat grows faster.

“Not this morning. My feet are screaming at me.”

“You get a pass this time, but next time, you’re my dancing queen.” He laughs like a crazy person and just keeps right on playing.

I pass by the bed and breakfast the cute retired couple from Mobile purchased, renovated, and made into one of the most sought-after places to stay in the Garden District. It looks like they have a full house. Luxury cars line the street in front. It’s nice to see them making their dream a reality.