The Bad Boy Next Door: Lance & Chastity (18 page)

My eyes goggle. “You can’t be serious.”

“Get back on the counter.”

“This is ridiculous, Lance.”

“I know. On the counter.” He kicks the door closed with the bottom of his boot.

I reluctantly hop on top.

“Lean back on your hands.”

I do.

He drizzles caramel into the dimple between my collar bones, then drops the ladle in the bucket and sets it down. The caramel is hot but not burning. He plants his hands on the counter and leans forward, dabbing his tongue into the caramel pool at the base of my neck. A little rivulet runs down my breast bone. Lance catches it with his tongue, then licks his way back up. “Mmmm, that tastes fucking good. Salty caramel and a hint of… perfection.” He straightens and licks his lips. “I had no idea you went so well with caramel.”

“Me neither.” But my neck is sizzling where he licked it and my own salty goodness drips into my panties.

He ladles more caramel on my chest, spiraling it around my nipples in thin trails.

This is so wrong.

We’re in a family ice cream shop, for goodness sake!

When he grabs my breasts and goes to town with his tongue all over my nipples, my head rolls back and I moan long and low.

Why does this feel so incredible?

I don’t know, but he can do it all day.

When I’m licked clean, he pulls me toward him by the waist and we kiss. Caramel never tasted so good.

“More,” he grunts and coats my breasts again. He feeds me a drink from the ladle.

I hesitate, thinking about how I’ll have to wash the ladle afterward. I’ll worry about it later. If I remember. I drink it down and the sugar high hits instantly.

“I forgot the whipped cream.” He spurts a fluff on each nipple.

I laugh. “I must look ridiculous.”

He takes a step back. “You look like the yummiest sundae I’ve ever
eaten
…”

“But you haven’t—” I stop myself.

He grins, “Eaten you?”

I nod. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

He unbuttons my khakis and I help as he drags them down to my knees, pulling my white panties with them. The stainless steel is cool against my naked butt. Better remember to wash the counter top too.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks. “You’re distracted.”

“It’s just… I work here. I have responsibilities.”

“Your only responsibility right now is…” His fingers find my folds. “…to enjoy yourself.”

That won’t be a problem.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.”

“Mmmm-hmmm.” Eyes closed, I bite my lip and moan as his fingers make magic, erasing all my worries. This feeling of freedom and letting go overwhelms me. When Lance’s finger slips inside me, all the stress of the past two days disappears. I am in heaven again. With my own dirty devil.

His thumb circles my clit and the fingers inside me find a new spot I didn’t know I had. Unique sweet pleasure floods through me.

“What are you doing?” I gasp, breathless.

“My job.”

His fingers fuck me and rub that spot and I start to come.

“Stop.”

My eyes open. “What? Why?”

“I’m going to fuck you.”

That should scare me but it doesn’t.

He unbuckles his belt one handed and yanks at his jeans. Frustrated, he pulls his hand out of me to push his pants and boxers down to his thighs.

The emptiness I feel is instantly disappointing. I bite my lip, hungering for him to fill me up again.

A condom from his pocket appears and he tears it open, rolling it on his cock. He yanks me toward the edge of the counter top and plows my entrance with the bottom of his shaft, his fist wrapped around the base, seesawing up and down.

We watch my folds part and curl like water around the motion of his rock hard cock.

He hisses, “Look at that caramel pussy. Fucking gorgeous.”

His tip teases my entrance.

He eases in.

Slowly.

He’s a tight fit, but I relax and feel him stretch me to the max. I can barely take him, but he goes slow. I expect pain, but there is none. When he’s all the way in and his balls press against my butt, I moan.

“Fuck yeah.” He starts to thrust. Rhythmically. Slowly. Sensually.

I gasp, breathy, “Does this mean I’m not a virgin anymore?”

“Not till we come. Together.”

We lock eyes.

I nod. “Together.”

He continues slowly. In and out like he’s revealing the secrets of the universe. It feels so incredibly good.

I want this feeling to last forever.

Him inside me.

Fucking me.

And like that, something happens.

I have had many orgasms in my life. In private. This is completely different. The level of pleasure is overwhelming and I’m not even coming. I can’t form a coherent thought. I’m obsessed by the simple motion of the in and out. I don’t want to think about anything else ever again.

Just.

Fucking.

“This is my pussy,” Lance grunts desperately. His eyes are crazy again, like last night when he snuck into the bathroom. He is an animal trapped in the body of a man. Or a monster. Whatever he is, he just needs to fuck me. “Nobody else is gonna touch this pussy ever again. Nobody.” He sounds furious. “My virgin cunt. All fucking mine.”

I can’t quite make sense of what he’s saying. The in and out is scrambling my brain. But some vague corner of my mind mutters,
We’re not even dating. I don’t know what we’re doing other than having sex. This isn’t even making love. It’s ridiculous. It’s just meaningless slut fucking.
But somehow, I don’t care. I’m loving every dirty word he says and everything his dick is doing to me.

“Only I fuck this pussy. Ever. Nobody else. You come for me and only me. You understand?” He’s growling in my ear through fanged teeth, his voice low and dangerous, thrusting into me deeper and deeper. “Say it! This is my fucking pussy!”

“Yes!” I hiss. “Only yours. Just yours. Fuck me, Lance. Please fuck me hard.” He does, building up speed in slow motion until my entire body is on fire with ecstasy. I whimper and start to come.

“Now!” He grunts. “Fucking come!”

We come together. Screaming grunting dying our little deaths at the pinnacle of climax. It’s the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had. It gives whole new meaning to coming.

I think I’m hooked.

If this is what sex feels like, I want to have it again and again every day and night until I can’t think straight.

I grab the back of his head. He cups my cheek. We kiss blindly, devouring each other, breathing hard, coming down slowly, lost in our passion.

Oh my goodness.

That’s when it hits me.

I’m not a virgin anymore.

I can’t imagine a better first time.

I will remember this moment forever.

“
WHAT IN GOOD GOD ARE YOU TWO DOING
?!” Mr. Molton roars, standing in the doorway of the store room, his face red rage.

Oh.

No.

“
YOU HAVE WHIPPED CREAM ALL OVER YOUR NIPPLES!
”

I want to laugh because
that’s
what he notices? Not Lance’s condom covered cock inside of me?

Unfortunately, I don’t laugh because this is a disaster.

Chapter 13

CHASTITY

“THE CASH DRAWER IS EMPTY, CHASTITY!” Mr. Molton screams. Lance and I are throwing clothes on while Mr. Molton has a meltdown. “Where is all the MONEY?!”

“I don’t know!” I whine, jerking my pants up.

“Why the hell were you back here fucking! This is my store, God damn it! We got robbed!”

I wince, clutching my bra and polo shirt in front of my breasts. “For real?”

“NO! For FAKE! Yes we got fucking ROBBED! Because you were back here SCREWING!!!! What in HELL is wrong with YOU!! My son is in the hospital and I trusted you to cover the shop while I was gone!!!!”

“I—I—I—” can’t think of anything to say right now.
Nothing can explain my actions. What I did is unforgivable.
I am a terrible person. I am a sinner. An adulteress. None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t
—I block out the Mom thoughts before my head explodes.

“Chastity, this is the worst kind of fuck up I can imagine!! You’re FIRED!!!!”

Sheer horror strains my face. “No! You can’t, Mr. Molton! I need this job!”

“If you needed this God DAMN job, why did you FUCK this DEGENERATE in MY store room on MY time?!” He shovels both palms toward Lance.

“Easy, buddy,” Lance warns. “I’m not a degenerate.”

“Then what the FUCK are you?! A THIEF?! Did YOU steal the money?! Or did you have a friend help?! Was that your plan? Get Chastity in the back and seduce her while you ROBBED me?!”

Oh no. Leaden dread bombs my stomach. Is that why Lance closed the door when I asked him not to? Did he steal the money when he was getting the caramel sauce? I am so gullible! I totally fell for it!!

Mr. Molton grabs Lance by the T-shirt and twists it in his hand. Lance is way bigger than Mr. Molton, but Mr. Molton is so angry he doesn’t think twice.

“Step off,” Lance growls.

“My son is in the hospital! He won’t wake up! The doctors don’t know what’s wrong with him! Who are you to tell me what to do?!”

Oh, no! Caden must’ve really gotten hurt. I really am a horrible person. A terrible, selfish, short-sighted idiot.

Mr. Molton’s face crumbles. “My son!” His hand relaxes and he releases Lance’s shirt. “Get out of here. Both of you.”

“Can I put my clothes on first?” I have my pants on but I’m still holding my bra and polo shirt over my chest.

Mr. Molton doesn’t look at me. “Get dressed in the bathroom. Then get out of here.”

I grab the key from behind the counter and hurry into the women’s room to dress. I don’t check myself in the mirror, just throw my bra on over the remaining smears of whipped cream and caramel sauce and pull my pink polo shirt over my head before rushing back to the front of the store. Everything is happening too quickly. I need to do something.

But there’s nothing I can do except watch Mr. Molton unravel.

He stands behind the counter and grumbles to himself, “Why are there jelly beans all over the place? And why didn’t the thieves take the change? Fucking IDIOTS!!” He picks up the black plastic cash tray from the register drawer and throws it against the tiled floor. It cracks and spins chaotically, throwing coins in every direction in a pinging dance that takes forever to settle.

A lone penny spins on its edge on the cold marble slab. Mr. Molton stares at it, leaning his hands against the edge, unaware of the icy cold marble. When the penny finally comes to rest, he breaks into sobs.

A woman with two little girls at her side leans her head in the door and says, “Are you open?”

Mr. Molton stares at her, shaking his head, tears running down his face.

The brown haired girl says, “Mommy, why is that man crying?”

“You might want to come back later,” Lance says quietly.

The woman hurries off with her kids.

“Get out of here,” Mr. Molton sobs.

“How much was in the drawer?” Lance asks him.

“What? I have no idea! Now get the hell out of here!”

“How much do you think was in the drawer? If you had to guess.”

Mr. Molton stares.

“How much?”

Mr. Molton shakes his head, frustrated and irritated. “I don’t know. It was a busy day. I hadn’t cleared the drawer since we opened. So, a lot.”

“How much?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I didn’t steal your money. How much?”

“I don’t know. If you minus the change, the charges and debit cards, at least six or seven hundred dollars.”

Lance pulls out his wallet and starts counting out bills. “Here’s eight hundred and eighty. It’s all I’ve got on me.” He sets it gently on the counter.

I don’t even want to think about why Lance has that much money in his wallet.

“Why are you doing this?” Mr. Molton chokes out.

“Because you got robbed. Let’s go, Chastity.” He gestures for me. “Come on. I think your boss needs to be alone.”

I hurry across the shop and take Lance’s hand.

He walks me outside until we’re standing in front of his black motorcycle. “I’m taking you home.”

I wince. “I really don’t want to see my Mom right now. She’ll want to know why I left work so early.”

“Fine. We’ll go someplace else. You hungry? It’s dinner time.”

“Not really.”

“Cool. We’ll just go somewhere. Anywhere but here.”

“I kind of want to be alone right now. I’m really confused.”

He stares at me.

I wince. “Is that bad?”

He shakes his head. He looks hurt.

“I’m sorry. We can—”

“Where do you usually go when you need alone time?”

“My room?”

“We can’t take you there. How about a park. Is there a park around here somewhere?”

“Yeah. It’s—”

“Put this helmet on.” He hands me one.

“Don’t you need one?”

“I brought a spare.” He screws his own helmet on his head and adjusts the strap. “I figured I’d pick you up. You guys only have one car, right?”

“Yeah. My mom’s Toyota.”

“It was in the driveway when I swung by the house, so I put two and two together and figured you’d need a ride home. Let me help you with that.” He gently squishes my helmet on my head, flips up the visor, and adjusts the chin strap. “Not too tight?”

“No.”

He lifts me up onto the bike like a feather then swings his leg over the seat. “I’ll go slow. Hold on tight.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him, vaguely aware of the muscles beneath his T-shirt.

“Where are we going?” he hollers at a stoplight, head turned back toward me.

“Uh, let me think. I never go to the park. How about that one in North Hollywood? On Tujunga? Do you know where it is?”

“The one at Magnolia, right?”

“Yeah.”

The ride to the park is gentler than my mom drives, which is super careful. We may as well be on a bicycle. Bicycles make me think of poor Caden which makes me nauseous. I push down the guilt for now, but I know it’ll come up later.

Whir.

When we get to Tujunga, he parks the motorcycle in a metered space next to another motorcycle already in it.

He lifts me off the seat. “You still wanna be alone?”