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Authors: Sarah Marston

Six Months Later

BOOK: Six Months Later
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SIX MONTHS LATER

 

BY

 

SARAH MARSTON

 

 

Copyright
© 2013 Sarah Marston

All
Rights Reserved

 

This
e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.  This e-book may not be
re-sold or given away to other people.  If you would like to share with another
person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

 

This
book is a work of fiction.  The names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously.  Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is coincidental.

 

WARNING: 
All characters in this book are 18 years of age or older.  This book is
intended for mature audiences only and contains explicit sex scenes and graphic
language which may be considered offensive to some readers.

 

 

 

 

SIX
MONTHS LATER

The empty blue pet
carrier crouched on the seat beside me, its presence a wordless accusation that
I had just killed my cat.  It didn't mean squat that the vet had assured me I
was doing the right thing for Raven - the little gray cat was old and sick and
there wasn't enough medicine in the world to make her right again.  The bottom
line was that my cat was dead and I was the one who'd packed her up in that
blue plastic prison and delivered her to her doom.

Crying only made
me feel worse, but I couldn't stop.  Hot tears ran down my face and my vision
was so blurry I could barely see.  My eyes strayed once more to that empty
cage, which only made me sob harder.  Which is why that by the time I managed
to focus on where I was driving again, my SUV was about two seconds from a
confrontation with a rhododendron bush.

"Shit!"

A split second
before impact, I jerked the wheel to the right and steered the car off the
grass back on to the skinny dirt driveway.  Twenty feet later I pulled up to my
house, shoved the gear in park and shut the car off.

Forcing myself
to knock off the bawling wasn't easy, and it took me a good two minutes to get
myself under control enough to grab the carrier and exit the vehicle.  I was so
lost in my misery it took me a bit to register that something was wrong.  At
first I couldn't figure out what, then it hit me.  It was the absence of my
dog, barking his fool head off, jumping around and acting like he'd been
deserted for days.

My eyes zeroed
in on the large deck that hugged the back of the house.  Then I swear my heart
stopped.

Holy shit.

Cody was on the
deck all right, his big brown and white spotted body leaning with obvious bliss
into the deck chair while a large male hand stroked his neck.  My gaze
traveled  from that hand upward, taking in a tanned, muscular arm, then an
impressive olive green T-shirt clad chest, and finally landed on a
black-haired, blue-eyed devil wearing a definite smirk. 

The son of a
bitch.

I did not need
this right now.  This man had no business sitting on my deck like he owned it
and stroking my dog with those long, strong fingers.  The hot August sun was
beating down and I watched a trickle of sweat carve a path down his neck and
disappear beneath his shirt.  I remembered those hands stroking me, and my body
started generating a heat of its own, most of it concentrated in my crotch.  I
ignored it, made my way up the deck steps, set the carrier down, then leaned my
back on the railing and glared.

"What the
hell are you doing here?"

"That's no
way to greet an old friend, Emily.  I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"You
thought wrong."

Six months.

That's pretty
much exactly how long it had been since I'd seen him.  For the first few months
I had waited, hoped, and dreamed he'd appear at my door, swearing he'd made a
huge mistake and he never should have left me.  Then about month four, I had
arrived at the conclusion that my dream wasn't happening and he was a
insensitive asshole.  John Heard was an emotionally challenged bastard who
wouldn't know how to give or receive love even with the aid of an instruction
manual written so simply a five-year-old could understand it.  The only thing
he cared about was sex.  Lots and lots of hot, sweaty sex.

A movement off
to the side caught my eye.  Casey Lee, a fat black cat with an alpha male attitude,
launched himself toward John's lap.  His landing was a tad ungraceful, so to
compensate he dug in the claws to maintain his balance.  I could tell this by
the look of pain on his target's face.  Then the cat crawled up that rock hard
chest and rubbed his drool spattered face against that sweaty neck.

John leapt up
and sent Casey Lee flying.  The cat landed with a thump, hissed, then stalked
off into the yard.  Cody woofed and took off after him.

"Damn it, I
hate cats!"  Black cat hair clung to his shirt.

Another huge
flaw in his personality that I had foolishly overlooked.  "So I
remember."

He recovered
quickly.  Since he was obviously gracing me with his presence because he wanted
something, that was a good move on his part.  He headed my way and didn't stop
until he was way inside my personal space.  I responded by attempting to back
up, but since I was leaning against the railing there wasn't any where to go.

"Why were
you crying?"  He reached out a hand and buried his fingers in my hair, and
that touch brought a whole bunch of unwanted memories rushing in.  Back when we
were sleeping together, I'd loved it when he did that.  I'd loved just about
everything about him.  He used to say we looked good together - the perfect
contrast.  His hair black, mine blond.  His skin dark, mine fair.  His body
tall and muscular, mine short and curvy.

"I wasn't
crying."

"Your eyes
are puffy and you have mascara smeared all over your face.  Of course you were
crying.  Tell me why."

Like hell.  The
shithead would probably laugh and come out with one of his stupid dead cat
jokes.  I swatted his hand out of my hair.  "Back off, John, and go away. 
I don't want you here."

John completely
ignored my request and tangled his hand back in my hair, his fingers tightening
and tugging until my head tilted upward and I was looking him straight in those
gorgeous blue eyes.  He smiled a predatory smile, then bent his head and
pressed a hot, wet kiss against my neck.

Oh, god, that
felt good.  Too good.  It took a huge amount of willpower, but I was not going
to touch him back.  As soon as I did, it would be all over and before I knew
it, there I'd be trusting his sorry ass again and begging him to fuck me
senseless.  Which I knew damn well was exactly where he was going with this.

One of his hands
found its way to my left breast and ever so lightly caressed my nipple through
the thin fabric of my cotton sundress.  His mouth traced a wet path down my
throat, down my chest, licking and nibbling, until it reached that nipple,
which despite my best effort was throbbing and hard and wanted his mouth on it
so bad that I thought I might die if he didn't hurry up.  Finally, his mouth
latched on and sucked, gentle then hard, and the sensation was so incredible
that my panties were suddenly soaked.  I threw my head back and lost myself in
the pure pleasure of his suckling mouth as he tugged and nipped my nipple.

Shit.

His hot mouth
left my tit and the loss was devastating.  I wanted it back, now.  I whimpered
and hoped he'd get the hint, but instead he looked me in the eyes and asked
again, "Why were you crying?"

I wrapped my
hands around his neck and attempted to pull his head back down to the level I
needed it at, but he wouldn't budge.  "Not now, John.  Please, suck me
some more."

His fingers
closed around my other breast and squeezed it hard.  "You can have my
mouth back when you answer my question."

Anything to get
him back to the business at hand.  "Fine, I'll tell you.  My cat died, so
go ahead and make fun of me and get it over with."

Still clutching
my boob with one hand,  John used the other to stroke my cheek.  The tender
expression on his face took my breath away.  Never, in all the time we'd been
together, had he ever looked at me that way.  Like what I felt actually meant
something to him.

"I know it
sounds corny and it'll take you some time to believe this, but these months
without you made me realize the love you brought into my life and how empty I
was without it.  Yeah, we've previously established that I'm not fond of cats,
but now I get that you are, and that's part of what I love about you.  You have
a huge heart and you gave me part of it, but I didn't want it.  Trust and love
scared the hell out of me, so I ran away.  But I'm not running now.  And in the
next hour or so, I aim to convince you to give me another chance."

Oh, right, like
I believed that line of shit coming out of his mouth for a second. 
Nevertheless, lust was making my thinking fuzzy, but I was coherent enough to
know I'd be an idiot to let this opportunity to participate in incredible sex
to pass me by.  Maybe I'd risk my heart again on him, or maybe I wouldn't,
because contrary to what he seemed to believe, he couldn't just swoop back into
my life and with a few thrusts of his mighty cock expect me to forgive and
forget that easy.  But oh yeah, I was going to let him try.

I grinned at him
and ran my hand down his abdomen until I reached his erection and gave it a
squeeze.  "Bring it on, stud.  Show me what you've got that's gonna help
me change my mind."

He didn't waste
any time.  John's hands grabbed my ass, pulling my hips forward until my pussy
was plastered against his rock hard erection.  Shamelessly, I rubbed my crotch
against his, felt the rough material of his jeans stroking my clit through my
thin cotton dress and panties.  His mouth captured mine and I moaned as his
tongue caressed mine and the kiss got even hotter.  I captured his head between
my hands and kissed him hard, wanting to devour him with my mouth.  When his
big rough hand slid under my dress, pushed aside those panties and ran his
fingers through my wet folds, I thought I'd die from sheer pleasure.

I pulled my
mouth from his and gasped, "God, that feels good.  Put your fingers inside
me, please.  I need you to fuck me with your hand."

My cunt was on
fire.  It had always been this way with him - the minute he touched me my body
turned into a raging inferno, desperate for him to fill my every opening with
his hands, tongue, cock.  I heard my panties rip, felt the silk slide down my
legs and pool around my ankles, and used a foot to kick them away and knock off
my flip flops. John's mouth sucked on my earlobe, hard and wet, while he pushed
two fingers inside me and worked them in deep, then his tongue trailed a wet
path to my breast  He nipped down on my nipple hard at the same time he moved
those magic fingers in and out and all around and I writhed and rode them hard,
moving my hips in time in time to him sliding in and out, but I needed more.  Shamelessly,
I squirmed against his palm, silently begging him to touch my clit with his
free fingers.  He finally got the hint, rubbing and circling the enflamed nub, over
and over in perfect rhythm with his fingers fucking me and his mouth and teeth
sucking and biting first one nipple and then another.  I don't know how he
managed to accomplish all three tasks together but I wasn't complaining.  When
he whispered against my boobs, "You are so fucking wet and I can't wait to
shove my cock inside you," I lost it, spasms rocking my body, my pussy
shuddering around his fingers, clenching and unclenching, juices running down
my thighs.

I almost cried
when he slid his fingers out, but when he slipped them between his lips and
sucked my juices off them, I almost came again just watching him.  That was so incredibly
hot.

He grinned at me
and said, "I am going to fuck you so hard you come unglued, but first I'm
going to eat your beautiful cunt until you scream.  And I'm going to do it
right here in the open too, so the whole neighborhood can hear you yell and
know you are mine."

It was an empty
boast, as it was unlikely anybody would hear no matter how loud I shouted
because my house was pretty much out in the middle of nowhere, which he well
knew.  But the very thought of the absolute naughtiness of fucking in the great
outdoors had my pussy pulsing and my blood racing.  I grinned back, speechless.

He had my ass on
the table, my skirt up around my waist and my legs spread wide before I knew
what hit me.  The glass was hot against my butt cheeks and when his wet mouth
landed on my pussy and starting devouring me like he was a starving man, I
shrieked, "Oh, my god!  Whatever you do, don't stop!""

His warm tongue licked
my pussy until I couldn't breathe, my hips bucking, body trembling, grinding my
sopping wet pussy into his face.  Then his mouth found my swollen clit and
sucked it full into his mouth, teasing and nibbling all those tiny nerve endings,
harder and faster until a wave of intense pleasure hit me and I came hard. 
Boneless and gasping, I heard the zipper on his jeans and then felt his hard,
familiar dick slam into me, impaling me with one long thrust.  I threw back my
head, unable to do anything but ride it out, his cock burying itself so deep
inside me that his balls slapped my ass with every thrust.  Over and over,
until finally, with a strangled moan, he slowed and gently slid out of me.

I whimpered at
the loss.  "Jesus, John, you can't stop now.  I've missed your dick so
much and I want more of it, now."

He pulled my
sweat soaked body up and against him and I wrapped my legs around his waist,
squeezing tight.  "I'm not done with you yet, baby," he said,
wrapping his strong arms around me and putting his wet tongue in my ear. 
"I'm going to suck you and fuck you all afternoon until you beg me to stop
and let you rest."   

Heat sizzled
through my already tender cunt at his words and the images they invoked in my
mind.  "Damn right," I whispered.  "Now let's get those pants
the rest of the way down so I can eat your magnificent cock properly."

BOOK: Six Months Later
8.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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