Read Smut in the City (Absolute Erotica) Online
Authors: Victoria Blisse,Viva Jones,Lucy Felthouse,Sommer Marsden,Giselle Renarde,Cassandra Dean,Tamsin Flowers,Geoffrey Chaucer,Wendi Zwaduk,Lexie Bay
Tags: #City, #erotic anthology, #office sex, #kinky, #excite, #House of Erotica, #voyeur, #Lucy Felthouse, #sex, #Erotic Fiction, #HoE, #adult, #smut in the city, #public sex, #Sexy, #Erotica, #exciting, #victoria blisse, #lesbian
“Good is great,” I sighed.
Then his hand did go higher. Just a bit. Just enough to make me gasp and move my hips invitingly. I wanted to grab his hand and shove it to my sex. I wanted to force his broad fingers and warm palm to cup the swell of my pussy. Ultimately I wanted his fingers fitting into my opening and parting me. And then more of him. The hardest, manliest part of him, pushing into my willing cunt and making me...
“You’re barely breathing,” he said, kissing me more deeply. “Are you thinking dirty things?”
“The dirtiest,” I blurted.
“Then it’s time to go. Nina would kick my ass if she thought I took advantage of the new girl.”
But what if the new girl took advantage of you?
I didn’t say it, though. I just nodded and watched him drive his old sports car down roads that felt narrow and dangerous and clogged with too many fumes and not enough oxygen.
***
Nina was just as I remembered her. Tall, thin, long blond hair and clear-water eyes that made her look like something out of a fairytale. She also had a huge swollen ankle and black eye.
“My gosh, what happened?”
She patted my wrist, laughing, and opened her mouth to answer but Clint’s voice came out instead. “This is what happens when you insist on carrying all the prepared bakery boxes down from the upper storage space.”
“And you can’t see.” She blushed.
“And you scare the crap out of your favourite head assistant baker. Who is me,” he said, pointing to himself.
I shook my head. “Are you okay?”
“Fine but for my ego. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there when you arrived. And about the fire.”
“The fire,” I sighed. “Is there anywhere else I can stay? I don’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense. I should have offered to have you here to begin with.” She smiled at me and I felt a bit of peace in my belly. I liked Nina and being in her home as opposed to a big city hotel did make me feel better. But hadn’t Clint said he lived right near Nina? I glanced at him and found him watching me. Everything inside me went molten hot again, like a lava cake just waiting to be broken into so all the good and oozy bits could come spilling out.
Jesus. I was doomed.
“Thanks,” was all I could manage.
“Mr. Hammer, would you mind...”
Clint gave a mock salute and held out an arm for me to claim. “Come country lass, let me show you to your quarters.”
“And then I’ll order pizza,” Nina said.
“No need,” I squeaked. “I really don’t mind cooking a m - ”
Nina tutted. “You’re tired. We can all have pizza before we shoo Clint home.” She was eyeing us with a small smile on her face. The same look my mother got when boys came sniffing around our house, puppy dog eyed as my dad said.
“I...we...”
“She means yes,” Clint said.
Nina nodded. “Good. One double cheese and one everything. Does that work?”
“Works for me,” Clint said and tugged me along. I realised as he led me up the staircase that he smelled of musk, man and powdered sugar. An entirely intoxicating scent.
My room was a pale silver-blue colour with bright bedding - lime and orange and cobalt blue. It should have been an assault on the senses but was, in fact, gorgeous. I stared at it to keep my focus off the big man crowding the doorway with me.
He squeezed me. “How you doing, kid?”
“Fine.” It came out on a wheeze. Like I was deflating. Embarrassing.
He chuckled and my stomach tumbled and curled with arousal. My pussy was wet, my nipples hard, my hair chaotic, my breath a freight train. He squeezed my shoulder and whispered in my ear. “You sure?”
“Just...hot.” It was a lie but all my scrambled brain could think of. I was horny, is what I was.
“In this air conditioning?” He was grinning. I could feel it but I refused to look at him. If I looked at him, I might kiss him again.
As if by magic, the air cut on and the vent at our ankles started to spew cold air on our feet. “Um...yes?”
He pushed past me and dropped my bags on the bed while I stood there clutching my purse like a moron. Then he was back, pushing into my space but not actually touching me. Not until his finger curled below my chin and he kissed the very tip of my nose. Juices slipped out of me, wetting my panties and my heart skipped a beat before resuming its already erratic cadence. “If you’re this hot now, it’s going to be a long hot summer.”
I nodded. “A long, hot hammer,” I said. And then I squeaked. Had I just said that aloud?
“Well, Jones, I am flattered.” He was trying not to laugh, I could hear it in his voice. “I think you have time to hop in the shower before pizza. I’ll see you downstairs.”
I caught his t-shirt in my fingers and twisted it for a second. Just to stop him. Just to see if I wanted to be a bigger idiot. I did. When he bent his head to me, I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Hot and brief and fierce - lips and tongues and teeth colliding before he put his hands on my hips and steadied me. “Shower, Jones. I’m trying to be a good guy.”
Damn him for being a good guy. I went to shower.
***
It was hard to focus on pizza and conversation with Nina when my body kept whispering to me to go curl up against Clint and touch him - see if the hammer part of his name was appropriate. He caught me staring once and winked. I almost choked on my pizza.
“So you two seem to be getting on well,” Nina said, looking smug. “Did Clint tell you he only lives two doors down over the thrift store?”
I shook my head no. He’d said close. I had no idea that close.
“You’ll like the thrift store,” Clint said. “Lots of good stuff for practically no money.” Then he stood and dusted off his hands. He gathered plates and napkins and debris. “Gotta go. I need a long, hot...shower.” His eyes were unreadable.
I swallowed hard, my bite of pizza tasting like cardboard in my mouth. I was picturing him naked. Soap all over his body, that tattoo revealed, hair wet, muscles glistening, cock hard and ready and in hand and -
“ - home, Jones?” Nina said.
“Um...”
“I think she’s tired, Nina,” Clint said.
“No! What? I’m sorry. I drifted off. I think I have bus-lag. Can you get bus-lag instead of jet-lag?” I babbled. Then I laughed, pleased that I sounded only mildly mentally compromised.
“I said, why don’t you walk him home? He can keep his car parked out front. And yes, I do believe you get travel lag from any form of transportation.”
“She’s fine, Nina. I’ll see you both in the morning.“
“No, I’ll come!” I announced wildly and then my cheeks went hot. That was an awesome thing to announce. “Let’s walk. Show me your hammer. Your house!”
Nina chuckled and covered her face and I fought the all too real urge to flee the scene and slink back to my tiny little lakeshore home. This was a nightmare.
Outside the air had not cooled. It was like getting smacked in the face with a wet mitten. “How do you people live here?” I gasped.
He shrugged and took my hand as if we’d known each other forever. “This is where we live. So we live. I know lake living is cooler at night.”
“Much. Here...not so much.”
“Part of it’s our weather and part is all the concrete and steel. This isn’t even the city proper right here.” He turned me to the brick façade of a small store. “This is city adjacent.”
“Can I come up?” I asked, suddenly bold, with the brick biting at my back and his lips so close to kissing me.
“No.”
I blinked. “No?”
“No. I want you to not be bus-lagged the first time you’re in my bed.” He kissed me once, his tongue tasting of the sweet soda we’d had with dinner. “Now walk home so I can see you’re safe.”
He stood watching me as I meandered - a bit stunned - back to Nina’s house. I waved and he waved and in the streetlight glow he grinned at me, looking very much like a beautiful predator.
It was going to be a long night, I figured.
***
The sun assaulted my face and I blinked. The summer sky was lit brilliantly and Nina was knocking. “Doll, you need to get up if you’re going to be at the - ”
I bolted up and let out a cry. “My alarm! My alarm didn’t go off!”
“It’s fine - ” She’d cracked the door and peeked in.
“I’m so sorry!”
I pulled my jeans on before my feet even hit the floor. I shoved my feet - sockless - into my red and black checked Vans and spun in a circle.
“Jones!” she barked.
I froze. “What?”
“Take a breath.”
I did it.
“Clint is downstairs with coffee waiting for you. You’re not late and you can you know...brush your teeth and whatnot.” She smiled at me and I felt my limbs start to loosen.
“Okay.”
“Good. Now remember...”
I waited.
She laughed at me. “Breathe.”
“Right,” I said. “Breathe.”
The day was a blur. A Nina-less blur thanks to a doctor’s appointment and her phone call to say it wasn’t a sprain, it was a fracture. And she needed a boot.
Clint and I were up to our asses in alligators as my daddy said and we baked and decorated and sold our weight and then some in cupcakes and pastries. The motion and the fast pace of the store soothed me. I was able to throw myself into the familiar territory of working and when the day was done, I was pleasantly tired. We had worked well together, Clint and I, and we’d behaved. Barring two stolen kisses and a few random touches.
This was bad. You didn’t date guys you worked with. You didn’t get involved. And yet...it seemed perfectly logical and entirely comfortable. Which made it an even worse idea and yet -
“Come home with me,” he whispered in my ear as we were washing up. Donna had just arrived, her hair tortured into spiked horns today. Over it she wore a hot pink bandana sporting skulls. Somehow she looked both adorable and frightening.
“I - what happened to being the good guy?” I didn’t mean it. I was torturing him.
“I’ll be the good guy after. I’ll cook you dinner, after. I’ll ply you with wine, after. I’ll - ”
“Let’s go,” I said on a breath. “Hurry.”
The urgency in my voice made him chuckle. The dishes were quickly stacked in the drainer and we handed off the next shift to Donna. She gave us a finger wave and an evil smile. She knew, I realised - any sane and seeing person would - and I didn’t care.
Twenty-four hours of flirtation felt like twenty-four days. The short drive - seven minutes according to the dashboard clock - felt like forever. We hit his front door and bounced, him trying desperately to fit his brass key into the lock. One hand gripping my breast, the clever thumb sweeping back and forth despite our clumsy grappling embrace. My hand was on his zipper and I felt the perfect hard length of his cock tucked in his black and white chef pants.
He grabbed my hand, moved it, pinned me to the door as it started to drift open. “I told you,” I said, nipping his lower lip.
Now that we were doing this, all my inhibitions had fled. All my worry and all my fear. It had gone like smoke out of a kitchen extractor fan.
“What? You told me what, Jones?” Before I could answer, he’d dipped his head to suck my tit through my thin bra and equally thin Nina’s Nibbles shirt. My nipple rose up to meet him, a hard nub of eager flesh that was just aching for him to do it again - suck, lick, bite. All of it. Yes.
“That Clint Hammer was a wrestler name.”
“Huh,” he said and scooped me up. Before I could even make a noise, he was taking the steps to his apartment two at a time.
“Don’t drop me, don’t drop me, don’t drop me,” I wheezed as he sprinted.
“Do you always worry this much?”
Another door, another key, his big hand on the back of my calf to hold me steady. I was flung over his shoulder like some heroine in a B movie and my pussy thumped merrily in time with my racing heart. I wanted him to be my B movie hero. My box office boyfriend. My...fuck...I just wanted him.
It would be a long hot summer but this would make it more interesting. And even hotter. I’d needed a change, but even more I’d needed some wildness. I needed a lover and some risk and yes, some pleasure. To feel life like a sharp stab of electricity and energy under my skin.
“Hello?” he said, pulling me back to the conversation.
“Yes?”
“Yes, you always worry this much or - “
“I’m a born worrier, but not now. Where’s your bedroom Clint? Where’s your bed?”
His bed was big and white. White sheets, white comforter, white throw. It matched his uniform and I had to laugh. “It’s all the colour of flour,” I said, surprising us both by rolling fast when I hit the bed and coming up astride him.
“Take your clothes off,” I whispered. I ran my finger along the length of his hard on and felt that rigid flesh jerk beneath my touch.
“Look who isn’t so worried now,” he said, pinching my nipple so hard I felt my cunt flex.
“You make me feel comfortable. Like favourite recipes. Like chocolate cake,” I said. I kissed him and tasted cinnamon and sugar and coffee on his warm tongue.
He ripped his shirt off and I worked his pants. There was a brief moment of nothing but tangled fingers and then he batted my hand aside to do it himself.
This was my official kick off to summer. Here it was, me branching out from everyday life. “Hurry.”
“Why hurry?” he asked.
“Because I need it now and then, if you want...if I can stay - ”
Now he surprised me by flipping me onto my back and ripping my t-shirt over my head. Together we got my pants off and his fingers hooked my panties dragging them down. “Jones, you can stay as long as you want.”
I lost my words because his mouth settled on my hipbones and then my belly just below my navel. My skin rippled and danced from the stimulation and I felt a slick of my own honey slip out of me. When he settled his mouth between my legs, I let my thighs splay. I pushed my fingers into his sinfully dense hair and held on as his tongue lapped at me, parting me like flower petals to gather the sweetness between my legs. A thick finger wormed into me and then a second. Clint flexed those thick fingers three times and I came, offering a cry up to his skylight, currently lit by flashes of heat lightning.
Thunder rumbled and another flash lit the tall windows.