Boyfriend Bargain by Ilsa Madden-Mills

23

Sugar

Ican’t stop looking at his manhood. It’s huge and swollen, and I know exactly how tight it fits inside me

“You like my stick?”

I snort. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“You were thinking it.”

“Oh, you’re not only a sex machine but a mind reader too?”

“Sex machine? I like that. Go on, please. Tell me more—and use that deep Southern accent when you say it.”

A laugh bubbles up but fades away when his hand cups my cheek, his thumb stroking across my lips, tugging on them. I bite his index finger then take it into my mouth and suck. He curls his other hand around my nape.

A shuddering breath comes from him. “Do you have condoms?”

Breathless, I nod, tilting my head toward the desk. “Top drawer.”

His back is to me, and I take the opportunity to rove my eyes over his rippling muscles, watching the way they glide when he moves.

I hear the familiar jingle of keys outside my door.

Julia!

No, no, no!

I jump out of bed and throw myself at him. “Z, oh, shit, hide. I think my roommate is here.”

Looking over his shoulder at me, he gives me a sardonic eyebrow. “And this is a problem?”

I swat him on the arm just as I hear a muffled curse and the sound of metal hitting tile outside. She must have dropped her keys. Yes.

“First of all,” I hiss, “you’re naked as the day you were born, and I have no underwear on. Second, we all know you can charm the dew off a honeysuckle, but you can’t charm her. She hates hockey players—”

“You’re ashamed of me?” His tone is incredulous. “Have to say, this is a first.”

“I just don’t like people knowing my business.” I’m hustling him to the closet as I speak. “Plus I have no clue where your clothes are right now!” He points to a pile near the end of the bed so I reach over and toss them at his chest. “Get in my closet.”

He looks affronted. “You’ll pay for this later. I’ll want…things.”

I shiver, already thinking about those things.

He exhales and allows me to push him in the closet. Before I shut it, I give him a lopsided smile.

I can hear the front door opening into the darkened room just as he whispers, “Do I have to stay here all night?”

I ignore him, straighten my tank, snatch up my underwear, and slide them on just as Julia flips on the tiny lamp on her nightstand. I walk to her side and once she turns, she jumps and screams.

Her hand goes to her heart. “Sugar! I was trying to be quiet. I thought you were asleep.” She takes in my disheveled appearance and probably wild hair. I tug down on my tank top, thankful he at least left that on.

I’m not exactly sure why I don’t want to tell her. I mean, it’s not like a twenty-one-year-old girl can’t have sex, butavoidance is my answer to everything tonight.

Her hair is as much of a mess as mine, I notice, and it looks as if she might have been crying.

“Is everything okay?” I frown, taking a step toward her, but her look stops me.

She holds her hand up. “I’m fine. Just a long day at work.” She plops her purse down and sits on the edge of her bed.

I nod, leaning against the half-wall that separates our rooms. “I didn’t even know you had a job that went this late.”

She pulls her hair out of a messy bun and brushes at it until it falls in a sleek wave down her back. “Yeah.”

Her voice is taut with tension as if she’s mentally telling me to mind my own business. I forget for half a second that Zack is huddled up in my closet and take another small step toward her. “I’m a good listener if you want to talk…sometime.” Not tonight though, I think, crossing my fingers. I have to get him out of here.

She takes off her shirt and jeans and pulls on an oversized T-shirt. With a lingering glance, she looks as if she might tell me something, but then she changes her mind. She crawls into her bed, tucks herself under the blanket, and turns off her light. “Just exhausted. Let’s talk later. Right now I just want to listen to some Beethoven and sleep.”

Okay.

She reaches over to the nightstand, grabs her earbuds, and taps to start the music on her phone.

“Night,” she murmurs.

I mumble a response, but she’s already turning over and facing the wall.

I shuffle over to my side and stand at the door of the closet, debating, moving from side to side.

How am I going to get him out of here? Do I want to get him out of here?

As quiet as a mouse, I open the closet door, and Zack is sitting on top of my mini fridge, munching as quietly as possible on a lone Dorito. One of my silk scarves, a gift from Mara I keep in a box on the top shelf, is looped around his neck.

I sigh. A very large and naked man with a dragon tattoo is sitting on top of my mini fridge with a semi, eating chips with a scarf on. Priceless.

“I guess it was too much to ask for you to get dressed?” I hiss.

He licks his fingers clean. “I was too pissed.”

I step inside with him. “It wouldn’t be college if you didn’t have to hide in the closet of a dorm room at least once.”

He puts the chips down. “Is she gone?”

I shrug. “She’s facing the wall with earbuds in.”

“Ah.” He takes my hand and pulls me toward him until I’m standing between his legs. It’s hot in the closet and clothes hang in most of it, but he’s managed to push them all to one side. There’s not much room, but it is bigger than anything I ever had at Mama’s back in Alabama. On the top shelves are my favorite books, extra school supplies, and a few sweatshirts and sweaters. My shoes are in an organizer in the top as well, which gives me plenty of space in the middle for the fridge—and us.

His hand curls around my waist.

“You’re sitting here eating my food with a condom on. Seriously?” I take in the length that’s growing, jutting up at me.

He stands, looming large in the small space. He strokes himself, giving his head a twist.

“A man gets hungry, Sugar,” he says as he towers over me.

Swooping down, he kisses me, tasting like chips.

“Honestly, I don’t care where I am when I’m with you.” The timbre of his voice is husky. “Take your underwear back off. Please.” His forehead is against mine. “I want to fuck.”

I smile. I’m getting used to his demands. “I did have vodka. It tends to make me take my clothes off.”

He tilts my face up. “Ah, Miss Ryan, don’t blame all this on alcohol. This…” He reaches down, slips his hand inside my panties, and gives me a one-finger touch that’s there and then gone. “This is all you and me.”

I’m already moaning and opening my legs for him before he even stops talking.

I reach down and slip my panties past my hips and off. I twirl them around. “Happy?”

Damn, I like watching his eyes burn.

I tug at a strand of his hair. “I like how you look at me like you might die if you don’t fuck me.”

His lashes flutter. “I like it when you say fuck.”

“Fuck me then,” I say. “Quietly.”

“That’s going to be difficult. You call out my name…a lot.” His voice is raspy.

“Put your hand over my mouth.” My chest rises with a shiver of excitement.

“My pleasure.”

Need vibrates inside me, and part of me wonders if I should be ashamed of my brazenness, but I shove those thoughts away. We’ve gone this far, and I’m a woman and he’s a man, and this is the best sex I’ve ever had.

His shoulders rise and fall as he stares at me, ghosting over my hair and face. He cups my breast, flicking his finger over my nipple.

“Please,” I whisper, not ashamed to beg. Tomorrow I’ll worry about why he has this control over me, but right now, I just want him.

“Turn around and lean over the fridge,” he whispers. “I’ve been dreaming about taking you from behind.” I do as he says, facing the wall, and my legs tremble in anticipation as he parts them with his knee, his chest against my back. “Press your hands against the back wall and hang on.”

He gently traces his fingers down my skin and outlines the cameo with the white lily inside that’s in the center of my back. I shiver.

“I love your tattoo.” He reaches around, pushes my shirt up, and cups my breasts. I groan at his touch.

Then he worships me.

His lips and hands are everywhere in the quietness and small space, pushing my hair over my shoulders and sucking on the skin on my back, playing with the curve of my elbow and then tracing his hands down to my legs. He bites me tenderly and I quiver. My body ignites. Again. So ready, so open. I’ll do anything with him.

“Put your ass up more,” he whispers as he crouches behind me on his haunches, and I obey, gasping when I feel his tongue on me, licking me. His fingers spread me apart and he devours me, touching me, making me moan his name.

“Shhhh,” he whispers against my skin, his tongue hot, so hot against my skin.

When I’m a dripping mess and whimpering, aching to come, he finally stands and strokes down my back.

“I’m going to fuck you slow, Miss Ryan.” His hand covers my mouth, giving me just enough room to breathe, and I quake with excitement, needing him inside me.

Moving to adjust, I’m standing on tiptoe as he slides inside, his fingers on my clit, playing me in tune to his thrusts.

A long groan escapes his lips as he picks up speed, one hand over my mouth and one on my hip. “I love this,” he grunts in my ear. “I feel you around me, and this is the best thing I’ve felt in a really long time. I could fuck you for days without ever stopping. I don’t know why it’s so good, but….” His voice trails off as he clutches my hips, his fingers a brand on my body.

I tighten my walls around him and he lets out a groan, mumbling my name and several adjectives about my anatomy under his breath.

He’s incoherent.

And I want more.

My legs are near collapsing, but I don’t want this to end. I can barely breathe and I groan as his hips twist to get a deeper angle.

He growls, moving his legs to get a better position inside me. “You make me feel on top of the world when I fuck you. I can win a championship inside you. I could run the whole fucking world.” His voice is guttural as he goes deeper. “I want this pussy tomorrow and the next day and the next. Do you hear me?”

I nod, my juices dripping down my legs.

“I’m going to make you see stars.” He rubs his thumb across my bum, applying the tiniest bit of pressure there until I squirm.

“You like this, Miss Ryan?” he whispers.

I nod, breathing around his hand.

His wet finger presses inside me, just a little, and then back out. He plays there, so soft, so gentle, until I feel weak. I sway on my feet and his hips stop moving, his length twitching inside me as he adjusts me. Heavy breathing and silence fill up the closet and, shit, I want so much more. I wiggle back at him.

I picture how I must look, bent over and legs apart, my mouth covered by his hand, ready and open for anything. I yearn to see him, to look at his face, to pull on his hair, but right now, I want him moving inside me.

I moan deep in my throat, and he growls behind me, his lips brushing my shoulder as he picks up his pace again, sliding out and back in, excruciatingly slow.

His finger is back and goes in more, slipping inside me deeper and rubbing, tightening everything until I feel every ridge and vein in his cock. Sharp tingles ripple over me, and my mouth opens, gasping as he plays there, going deeper each time as he thrusts.

He lets out a curse and the hand around my mouth loosens and traces the curve of my cheek before trailing down my back and landing on my hip. I don’t know why. Maybe he’s losing control just like I am.

He takes my hips and owns me. Time seems to stand still as he grinds against me, twisting his hips and I…I…I can’t think. Is it always like this with him? I want to give him everything. I want to…

He whispers my name over and over…and I know…I know he’s right there with me. This can’t be how it always is. Can’t be.

“Mine,” he grunts and slides into me, and it’s such a stereotypical male thing to say, but with him, shit, it’s real and the alpha in him is electric, something I didn’t even know I wanted.

Z…he’s not like anyone I know, and in that closet, I see it. I see that he’s so out of my league, intense and raw and a hot flame, and I know—I just know I’m going to get burned. Like a moth to a flame, I’m going to be incinerated, I’m going to cry someday, but right now, I don’t care. I’ll take it.

The slapping of our bodies, the sound of our sex, the dark confined space, and the fact that Julia might be able to hear us—it sends me over the edge.

I burst apart inside that closet. I see stars and rainbows.

He speeds up, his thrusts alternating between hard and soft, rough and teasing, and I stand up higher and higher on my toes, and I don’t mind because he is all that matters and I want him to let go and get that high just like I did.

He lets out a deep groan and goes over the cliff with me, grunting and sweating against me. It’s dirty, so dirty and out of this world, and I tremble from knowing I could turn right back around and do the whole thing all over again.

A few seconds later, my hands are numb from pressing against the wall and I’m a mess as he turns my shoulders around, takes my chin, and stares down at me. His chest is going crazy, gasping for air, and he doesn’t say a word but leans down and kisses me softly, so softly, his tongue flicking against mine as if I’m fragile and might fall apart. I sag against him and for some reason, tears prick at my eyes. I blink them away furiously.

I see the medallion on his chest and I focus on it, wondering why I’ve never noticed him wearing it before.

“Nothing gold can stay,” he whispers as he hugs me, and for some reason, the depth of emotion in his gaze before we embrace…it scares me even more than the sex we just had.

I send up a silent prayer.

Please, don’t let whatever this thing is between us…don’t let it hurt me…or him.