The deeper he went, the harder he went, the less control I had. Part of me wondered if I’d ever had any at all.
I couldn’t even move, just laid there on his lap with my ass in the air. My hands moved to his leg under me, gripping his jeans, bracing myself.
“Come on, Penny,” he said roughly, begging. “Come, so I can fuck you.”
His hand flexed again, and three pressure points that he pressed screamed.
“That’s right. Come on. Come for me.”
Another flex. My heart strained against my ribs.
“F-f-fuck,” I groaned as my body orgasmed, not a single thing in my control. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whispered against the leather of the couch cushion with every pulse of my body, full in every possible way and nowhere near full enough.
“Thank God,” he breathed. A flurry of motion, he moved my limp body off his lap, put my knees on the ground, and moved behind me, kneeling between my legs.
I barely possessed any awareness of my surroundings, not until he grabbed my hips and slipped into me from behind, hitting my G-spot like he fucking had radar for it.
“Fuck!” I cried, sliding my hands into the back of the cushion to hang on as the orgasm I’d thought was gone got a second wind.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Penny,” he growled as he pounded me.
His hand twisted in my hair and pulled. My orgasm thundered back to life with every pump of his hips. I didn’t even know how — it just wouldn’t stop, rolling through me like it would never end. My body was on fire, writhing and wriggling and flexing and contracting as he slammed into me over and over again, finally coming with a moan, a cry, a shudder, and jackhammering hips that hit the end of me so hard that I couldn’t breathe.
I don’t even know how we came down or how long it took or what happened after that — I blacked out from bliss.
When I regained a fraction of my senses, I found myself lying on the rug, tucked into Bodie’s side, both of us still fully clothed other than his unbuckled pants, condom still on.
I didn’t even remember him putting it on, and the fact that it hadn’t even crossed my mind when he was nailing me from behind freaked me out. But only for a second. Lucky for me, he was a trustworthy guy, and he had been since high school. Maybe it hadn’t crossed my mind because I did trust him.
That foreign thought freaked me out too.
I didn’t have too long to contemplate it before Bodie seemed to reconnect his wires, turning to look down at me with a smile.
“So,” I started, the word lazy, “if you tell me you earned your nickname by fucking girls like that in high school, I’m really going to be burned about missing that shot.”
He chuckled and ran his hand down my arm. “Trust me — that was not the case. Roddy started it. First I was D, and Jude was Judie. Then D evolved into Diddle and Judie to Dee Dee. The nickname had nothing to do with anything other than him trying to humiliate me. I didn’t see a vagina in real life until college.”
“Really?” I asked wondrously, nestling into his side a little more.
“Yeah, really. I mean, you saw me. When it came to my friends, I had a mouth and confidence to beat their asses at literally anything, but I didn’t have the courage to really talk to girls. You and I were around each other enough that I could have. I should have.”
“We talked,” I offered.
“Yeah, but not like that. I just didn’t think I had a chance. Not then.”
My heart sank. I wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but at sixteen, I had been looking for guys like Rodney — fast car, fast hands. Hell, I didn’t know how different I was now. The thought made me feel even worse.
So instead of arguing, I curled deeper into his side.
His arm flexed in answer.
“College was … fun then?”
“You could say that.” I could hear him smiling as he continued, “It probably wouldn’t have been, if not for surfing.”
“Yeah, what’s the story with that? I don’t remember you surfing in high school.”
“That’s because I didn’t. My dad tried to get me and Jude to surf with him from the minute we could swim, and we did a little when we were kids, but once we hit junior high, we were more interested in playing D&D in the basement than sports. I blame the whole reject-what-your-parents-want idea. They’re total hippies. I mean, they supplied weed to half the high school like it was fucking milk and cookies.”
I laughed. “Your mom made a mean edible. She’d put her vegan cookies in those little sandwich baggies with a ribbon on it and smile and pat your cheek when she gave it to you. Half the time, she wouldn’t even let us pay.”