On His Knees by Tabatha Kiss

Chapter 25

Jenna

Kissing my ouchie?

Seth tries that shit on me again, and I’ll give him an ouchie to kiss.

I wince as I slam the washer door a little too loudly. Luckily, it’s a slow hour here at the laundromat and the strange bearded guy in pink satin pants doesn’t seem to mind.

My dryer buzzes. I turn toward it to pull out my first completed load. One more and this menial chore is over. One more and I get to... go home. Where Seth is.

On second thought, I’ll just take my time.

I put my clothes in a basket and carry them over to the line of folding tables in the corner. As I grab a shirt, my mind wanders to last night all over again. Stupid mind. It’s not like this memory didn’t get enough replays last night. You gotta annoy me all day, too?

“Kissing your ouchie.” I scoff. “So stupid.”

I fold my shirt and set it aside, quickly grabbing another one.

“I fell for that crap once,” I mutter, words spitting through my lips. “Not gonna do it again. Nope. No way.”

I set the folded shirt down, absently reaching for the next.

“What the hell was he even thinking? Did he really think a kiss on the cheek would be enough?” Fold once. Fold twice. On the pile. “Did he think I’d suddenly forget who he is? Yeah, no. Not gonna hap—”

I turn my head, the feeling of eyes on me far too intrusive to ignore. The bearded man stands two tables down from me with a multi-colored stack of pants next to his half-full basket, his brow furrowed and eyes wide open with caution.

“What are you looking at?” I ask, annoyed.

He says nothing. He picks up his stack of pants, sets them in the basket with his unfolded clothes, and takes off with it toward the exit.

I guess I don’t blame him. I’d do the same if I saw some crazy girl muttering to herself in a fucking laundromat.

At least I’m alone now.

I finish folding my shirts before wandering back to my washing machine. I grab my phone and hop up onto it, hoping for a distraction a few swipes away.

There’s a new text from Heidi waiting for me with an adorable photo of her from the back. Most likely taken by Drew in their hotel room. She’s standing by the open window with a gorgeous view, the tattoo on the back of her left shoulder exposed. The left half of a monarch butterfly. Freshman year feels so long ago now.

Missing you! the text says. Butterfly emoji.

I instinctively cross my left hand over my chest and tap my right shoulder twice.

Miss you, too!I reply.

You better bring me back something nice after the shitshow my week has been.

Though, if I’m to be honest with myself, there was a moment…

No.

Stop.

There was not.

But there was one tiny moment that wasn’t as bad as I would have expected it to be. There was a second — one measly second in time — that felt... good?

Okay, to be fair, it’s been a minute since a man has touched me like that, so I can’t be responsible for how my body naturally responded to it. I can’t be blamed for the way my core quivered and my lips tingled to be touched.

And okay. Yes. I looked at his lips, and my mind flooded with images on its own.

I might have laid awake most of the night, picturing what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped it.

I might have pictured Seth kissing me.

I might have pictured myself kissing him back. That’s just human nature! That’s just what every single woman thinks about when a man caresses her face and looks at her with big, passionate, golden eyes and whispers with that deep voice. I mean… fuck.

The machine beneath me reaches spin cycle and I blink twice.

Oh, fuck.

But it was just a kiss! It’s not like I pictured us having sex or anything. It’s not like I… thought about him towering over me with my legs spread wide and our hips grinding together.

It wouldn’t mean anything if I did. So what? Should I be ashamed? Should I… fuck, this feels nice.

The machine’s vibrations tease a quiver from my core, and I swallow hard.

Public place,I remind myself. Not appropriate.

I glance around the laundromat.

Public... but empty.

I casually part my legs, positioning myself... just... right...

“Fuck,”I whisper.

Suddenly, I’m back in my bed with a man hovering over me. Not just any man, though. He’s big and strong, like a damned Olympian with dark features and heavenly blue eyes. He leans down, planting two powerful hands on either side of me, pinning me, forcing me to stay put as he parts my legs and thrusts between them.

Glistening chest.

Rippling abs.

Throbbing... everything.

I take it. I raise my knees and dig my nails into his massive back. My tits bounce. My toes curl. I smother my mouth into his shoulder as I moan for more, leaving tender bites on his skin as he holds me down even harder.

He groans with lust. Deep, manly noises that tickle so good. He gives as much as he takes. Waves splash all around us... because now we’re at the beach, I guess. Yeah, the beach! Sprawled out in the sand with the tide rolling in and washing over us, drowning out the fierce sounds of our epic lovemaking.

My Olympian pushes up on this thick arms, watching as his perfect cock pounds away at me. He’s so thick, so long and mighty, but he never bottoms out. No. He shoves that epic manhood balls deep inside of me and I scream for more. Oh-so-much more. He fucks me harder and harder, filling me completely. More waves. More splashes. Fucking more, more, more.

“Something super sexy in Italian,”my Olympian groans from deep in his throat.

I throw my head back, moaning louder. Mind-blowing orgasm lingers just a few pumps away. I run a hand down his chest, my fingers clawing over three small Greek letters inked along his right ribs.

Alpha.

Delta…

... Xi?

No.

I look into the eyes of my Olympian fuck machine, the bright blue color now faded into a bright golden brown.

No, no, no.

Seth groans, plowing me even harder into the sand.

Nooooooo!

The entry bell chimes in the laundromat.

I startle at the sound and plummet off my machine onto the floor. I quickly pull myself up and grab my phone, a foolish attempt to look as casual as possible while a woman sets a large basket of dirty clothes on the washer a few down from mine. If she noticed... well, she ain’t showing it.

Thanks, sister.

My machine buzzes. I leap into action, more than happy to distract myself from whatever the fuck that fantasy was.

Man, I have got to get laid.

I toss in a dryer sheet with my wet clothes and start up the machine before rushing right back to my phone. A few taps, and I reach my contact list.

Scrolling... scrolling...

Derrick? No.

Jack? Maybe not.

Bobby? Fuck no.

I sigh. Already bored.

I need some fresh blood in my inbox.

I return to my home screen and tap the app permanently nestled in the bottom left corner.

Little Black Book.

The best damn dick dispenser the world has ever known.

I hop on over to the classified section. Sure, I could swipe through a bunch of profile pictures and hope for a match, but this qualifies as a dick emergency. Ain’t got no time or need for small talk.

22f CNU student seeking fit & athletic m for ONE NIGHT ONLY.

No strings attached. Must be willing to meet in a public place. Likes spending a little time on his knees.

I hit the post button.

Now, we wait.