Loose Ends (2 page)

“I thought it was you!” he said. “How are you doing? You look great!”

Before I had chance to respond, he’d wrapped me in a hug. He’d never been a skinny guy, but as I hugged him back and my face pressed against his chest, I could feel how solid he was. There was pure muscle beneath the shirt he wore. A delicious heat started to flicker between my legs.

I pulled back before I did something stupid, like allow my hands to stray toward his ass. The temptation was definitely there, especially as he
still
knew how to wear a pair of jeans. Over eight years after I’d first caught sight of that backside, it looked equally good. Possibly better, due to his bulkier frame.

“I’m good, thanks,” I replied, still checking him out. “You look pretty good yourself!”

It was true, too. Aside from the still-gorgeous ass and additional body mass, he looked good enough to eat. Working abroad obviously agreed with him. He carried a nice tan, and his hair was shorter. It suited him. I was pleased to note, though, that he still had his trademark facial hair. Ahh, the times I’d fantasized about having it brush over certain parts of my body were too many to count.

I focused back on his face before my mind wandered too much. Jonathan had obviously seen my slightly dreamy expression, though, as I saw a mischievous twinkle appear in his blue eyes. God, I remembered that look. It inevitably meant trouble.

“So,” I said brightly, trying desperately to deflect aforementioned trouble, “what are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting to see you; last I heard, you were working over in Dubai.”

“I was,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “I mean, I am. I’m home for a little while on holiday, and it was just lucky that it coincided with tonight. Who are you here with?”

“Very lucky. It’s nice to see you. I’m here with the girls.”

“Oh, they’re here, too? Awesome. Hey, have you got a drink?”

“No, I was just going to get one when I spotted you,” I lied.

“I’ll get you one. What are you having?”

“Double vodka and Coke, no ice, please.”

“Some things never change. I’ll be back in a mo’.”

I watched him walk toward the bar. Or maybe “studied him intently” would be a better turn of phrase. It seemed his ability to bring out the total perv in me hadn’t waned. Turning to the jukebox, in case he turned around and caught me checking him out, I noticed he still had a couple of credits left. Ha, more fool him for leaving me unattended with jukebox credits! I punched in the codes for a couple of my favorite songs and giggled to myself.

The girls had obviously stopped harassing the poor barman because it didn’t take Jonathan long to come back with our drinks. I accepted mine with a smile and a thank you. I took a gulp of my drink, hoping to calm my still-jangling nerves.

“So,” I said, not wanting to let the silence last any longer, “how are things out in Dubai? Are you married yet?”

I spoke the words in a jovial tone, but I was really hoping he wasn’t.

“God, no! I don’t even have a girlfriend. I move around so much that the lifestyle doesn’t really lend itself to getting to know anybody. I’m not bothered at the moment, though; I enjoy what I do so I just take each day as it comes.”

“Seems like a sound philosophy to me,” I replied.

“And what about you? You still with that, um—”

“No, that finished ages ago. It’s just little old me. To be fair, I’m so busy at the moment that I don’t really have time for a relationship. I just started my own business.”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s a first.”

I frowned. “What?”

“Us being single at the same time.”

“Hmm.” I didn’t trust myself to give a verbal response mainly because I didn’t know what he was getting at; if anything.

Jonathan looked a little puzzled, but then, we were saved from a potentially awkward conversation by my taste in music. I’d always been teased—and not just by Jonathan—about the crap I had on my iPod. So, when one of my all-time favorite cheesy songs started blaring out, there was a collective groan.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Was this your doing?”

“Your fault. You shouldn’t have left me unattended by the jukebox, especially when you had credits left!”

Slapping his hand to his forehead theatrically, he said, “I should have known it would be my fault!”

His next move took me completely by surprise. Downing the rest of his drink and putting his empty glass on the table, he said, “May I have this dance?”

Given the song was cheesy pop, it wasn’t as romantic as it sounded. Still, I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity—both to dance to my favorite song and to potentially cop a feel—so I finished my own drink and took his proffered hand.

This was no romantic slow dance; we weren’t even touching. But, after a couple of minutes of bopping around, we both realized how silly we were being and started laughing. I was almost doubled over at one point, and when I looked back up, my mirth instantly disappeared.

Jonathan was looking at me with such a serious expression that I thought something was wrong.

“What’s up?”

He said nothing, grabbing my hands and pulling me to him. My blood was already thundering through my veins as a result of the attempted dancing and subsequent giggling, so it was a wonder that the sudden proximity didn’t make me explode.

The look in his eyes was earnest, his expression serious. “I still want you, you know.”

Then, he kissed me. There was no messing around—well, apart from the previous eight years, of course—he just leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. Without a thought about public displays of affection, I slipped my arms around his waist and kissed him back, opening my mouth to admit his tongue.

It was incredible. The culmination of eight years of sexual tension and unexplored feelings. I could feel my pussy juices dampening my thong, and Jonathan’s cock pressed insistently against my stomach. If I’d have been someone else looking at us, I’d have been telling us to “get a room”.

After a few seconds, I became horribly self-aware of the fact that other people were probably thinking just that. I pulled away from the kiss then stood on tiptoes to reach Jonathan’s ear.

“Is everyone staring at us?” I didn’t dare look around and see if anyone was giving us disapproving glares.

“No,” he replied, with his arms still encircling my waist. “I don’t think anybody noticed.”

“Phew. I had visions of people shouting at us to get a room!” I laughed, then stopped abruptly when he spoke.

“Well, why don’t we?”

Chapter Three

It all happened so quickly I didn't register much of what was said on the way to find an empty classroom. Suddenly, he tried a door, mercifully found it unlocked then pulled me into the room behind him.

Once the door was shut—and locked—after us, Jonathan stepped toward me, put his hands on my hips and bent to kiss me again. He pushed me backwards until my back was pressed against the door, all the while his lips never losing contact with mine. His tongue explored my mouth, and his beard grazed across my skin, prompting old memories of me fantasizing about how said facial hair would feel between my thighs. I moaned and grabbed his ass, pulling him tightly into my body. I could feel his erection straining against the material of his jeans.

Some unspoken command appeared to pass between us, and things picked up a pace. Jonathan’s mouth left mine and started to trail down my face and neck, leaving kisses and nibbles in its wake. At the same time, he slipped his hands under my top and began to slide them up my stomach. When he reached the bottom of my bra, he continued, palming my lace-covered breasts and moaning against my neck as he felt their weight.

Flipping the cups down, Jonathan swept his hands over my already stiff nipples, making them ache for more. Moving his face back up to mine, he caught my lips in another toe-curling kiss and, at the same time, pinched my nipples. I groaned and arched my back, wanting the same friction—any friction—against my clit. I knew my pussy was soaking and desperately needed him to touch me there.

Although our encounter had been a hell of a long time in coming and I didn’t want it to be over too soon, my body didn’t care. Jonathan was obviously being led by his cock rather than his brain, too, as he broke off our kiss and yanked my top off, dropping it at our feet. Reaching behind me, he undid my bra, slipped it off and threw it down next to my top. Then, he kicked off his shoes and fumbled with his socks. I followed suit then watched as he undid his shirt. The only light in the room was coming from the corridor, through the panel of glass above the door. But it was enough. As he revealed his body, my mouth and cunt grew wetter.

He was toned and obviously spent time out of doors, topless. I was still staring when he discarded his shirt and looked at me. He grinned then nodded toward my jeans, at the same time popping open the top button of his fly. I mimicked him, undoing my top button. He undid the next button. I had no more buttons, only a zipper. Pulling it down slowly, teasingly, I stared defiantly into his eyes as I did so. Parting the material, I revealed my thong, which, happy coincidence, was sexy.

Jonathan obviously thought so, too, as his eyes were glued to it. After a few seconds of staring, he suddenly undid the remaining buttons of his jeans and started to wriggle out of them, finally dropping them to the floor and kicking them away. His black boxers were tight and clearly straining against the pressure of his cock, which, from what I could see, looked pretty sizeable.

Hooking his thumbs into the waistband, he pulled the underwear down. His erection sprang free, pointing proudly up toward his belly button from an obviously well-maintained cluster of pubic hair. I could see pre-cum already slicked across his meaty bell-end and had the sudden urge to wrap my lips around his cock and taste him.

Instead, I pulled my jeans and knickers down in one go. Moving away from the door, I stepped toward Jonathan and tilted my head back for a kiss. He obliged, and as our lips met, our hands got busy. Wrapping my fingers around his thick shaft, I began to stroke it, enjoying the feel of the velvety warmth in my hand. Returning the favor, Jonathan’s fingers slipped between my pussy lips and met with sticky heat. We devoured each other’s mouths hungrily, him sinking his teeth into my bottom lip as I tightened my grip on his cock.

I pushed my hips toward him, desperately needing to feel his touch on my clit. He took the hint, sliding farther up my vulva and finally giving me friction where I most needed it. He made small but firm circles around my distended nub of nerve endings, and I gasped and moaned into his mouth then finally went silent as my climax hit.

My cunt greedily grabbed at nothing, and I cried out as the pleasure rolled over me in intense waves. Jonathan bent and picked me up just before I went limp. He carried me over to a desk, depositing me gently down before going over to rummage in his jeans. As my heart rate and breathing started to slow, I heard the distinct sound of a condom being rolled on.

I opened my eyes and started to raise myself up on my elbows, but before I got there, Jonathan was back. Grabbing my ankles, he pulled me so my ass was at the edge of the desk. Parting my thighs, he gazed hungrily at my wetness for a few seconds before stepping between my legs and stroking his length up and down my vulva.

I moaned as his cock bumped against my still-sensitive clit. I desperately wanted to feel him inside me. I raised my ass, and Jonathan took the hint, sinking into me in one swift movement. I was so wet that his cock met with zero resistance, and soon, his balls rested against my ass. We stared at each other wide-eyed. I scarcely believed it was finally happening, and by the look on Jonathan’s face, I suspected he felt the same.

After a couple of seconds, he began to move. I wrapped my legs around his back and with each of his forward movements, I pulled him tightly into me, so his pubic bone was crushed almost painfully against mine. As delicious as my first orgasm had been, I was greedy for another. At the rate we were going, I knew it wouldn’t be far away.

I held on for as long as I could, letting Jonathan pick the pace and simply enjoying the incredible feeling of his cock pounding my pussy. After a while, he sped up of his own accord, and the faster he went, the rougher I wanted it. I encouraged him with my body, thrusting up to meet him, and with my words; releasing a torrent of obscenities.

Soon, I was teetering on the edge.

“Jon,” I said, struggling to form coherent words, “I’m gonna…unh…come.”

Muttering something even more incoherent back at me, he gripped my hips tightly and began to fuck me for all he was worth, bouncing me on his shaft like a rag doll. I felt my cunt begin to twitch and, seconds later, screamed my release. Jonathan followed closely behind, digging his fingers into my flesh as he came, grunting and moaning expletives. Then, he slumped over me, supporting his weight on one arm and resting his head on my chest. My heart pounded against his cheek.

We lay silently for a while, until his softening cock slipped from me. Then, he stood and turned his back to me. I heard the snap of rubber and the rustling of paper. He’d dropped it in the wastepaper basket. I laughed.

“I feel sorry for the person that’s got to empty that bin!”

“Me, too, but I’ll be thousands of miles away by Monday, so I don’t give a shit!”

We looked at each other silently as his words hung in the air. They’d been blasé but they’d hit us both hard. He came and sat back next to me, pulling me into his arms.

“Fuck, Lauren,” he murmured into my hair. “What are we going to do?”

In that moment, I knew that far from tying up our loose ends, we’d simply created a much bigger tangle that we’d have to unpick before we’d get our happy ending. But I also knew with every part of my being that he was worth it, so I simply replied, “We’ll work it out.”

About the Author

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story—so she did. It went down a storm and she’s never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, House of Erotica, Nobel Romance, Ravenous Romance, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also an the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at
http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk
. You can also find her on Facebook and Twitter. You can also subscribe to her newsletter at
http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
.