Cherry Popper (The Reckless Series Book 1)

Cherry Popper
The Reckless Series 1
Jade Sinner

C
opyright © 2016

2016 Edition

Cover art: Jade Sinner

Editing: Printed Matter Editing

Formatting:
Indie Formatting Services

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

2016 Edition License

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I
didn’t sleep
worth a fuck last night. How could I, when I saw her face every time I closed my eyes?

I imagined fucking her in no less than ninety-nine different ways. The horny lobe of my man brain was more than happy and able to supply all the images to accompany the fantasies happening in my head. My favorite was the one where she was lying on the bed with her legs spread, inviting me to eat her pussy.
Fuck.

She was sleeping just down the hall, wearing only that short, tiny silky gown. My dick knew it and the fucker stayed stiff all night.
Dammit, why’d she have to come into the kitchen wearing that?
My cock and the devil sitting on my shoulder tried to convince me all I had to do was walk the short distance to her bedroom and I could be inside her pussy within a few minutes. And no one would know.

Emma Briggs. Within my reach yet completely unobtainable.

I was six when she was born; I’ve known that girl all of her life and most of mine. From the time she could walk, she spent her days tagging along behind Ryan, Brantley, Drake, and me.

Always slower. Always weaker. Always so soft, sweet, and delicate.

She’d have chosen death over admitting a single one of those facts back in the day. But we didn’t care. She was Ryan’s baby sister.

Our little Em.

That was then. This is now. And our little Em isn’t so little anymore. She has grown up, and she’s making me fucking miserable as I lie here on the sofa in the Briggs family room.

I need to jerk off. Maybe cumming would bring relief from the ache in my balls—or at least make the discomfort bearable. And I bet getting off would better equip me to handle being around Em today.
Fuck, it’s spring break. I’ll be seeing her all week. No way I can take seven days of this.

I slip my hand into my shorts and grasp my cock, leisurely doing the five-knuckle shuffle under the quilt as I recall seeing Emma last night for the first time in more than a year.

Holy shit. I’ve never seen her look that way. She stole the breath from my chest. Knocked it from me like I’d been run over by a goddamn eighteen-wheeler.

Her dark, thick hair is longer. She’s always worn it straight but last night it was curled and swept over one shoulder. And her eyes—fucking sapphire magnets. I’ve seen them no less than a million times yet I could hardly stop looking at them. I think it’s the first time I can recall being so strongly drawn to something on a girl besides her tits, ass, or pussy.

The red backless top she was wearing was sexy as fuck––one of those where it comes up and around the neck, leaving her shoulders and back completely exposed. Her sun-kissed skin called out to me like a siren. A seductress. A fucking temptress.
Touch me, Ben. Kiss me. You know you want to.

Damn, damn,
damn
. Her perky tits looked like nothing less than perfection pressing against the fabric of her top. And I’m pretty sure I drooled a little when my eyes followed her mile-long legs until they disappeared beneath the tight denim skirt hugging the curves of her hips and ass.
I swear to God those curves weren’t there the last time I saw her. I would have noticed.

Her shoes pissed me off. Fuck-me pumps. She had no business wearing those for another guy.

Emma ran over for a hug the second she saw me, same as she has for years, but this time was different. My dick immediately recognized the change, too. The fucker spasmed and came to full attention when our bodies collided. And then, too soon, I had to release her and watch
my
Em go out the door with another guy.

On. A. Fucking. Date.

Brutal. Nearly killed me seeing her leave with some asshole, who I knew without a doubt, would try to get under that skirt and between her legs.
I will kill that fucker if he touches her.

I was glad when she came home—a little too glad. I had to keep myself in check so Ryan didn’t pick up on what I was thinking and feeling about his little sister.
He would kill me if he knew what was going through my head about her.

I spent all night imagining her legs wrapped around me while I pounded my cock into her tight, wet pussy. And that’s how I got into this shape now. My own fucking fault. I shouldn’t be having thoughts like that about Em.

Every inch of her sweet little body called out to me. All. Fucking. Night.

I know she’s still a virgin. That sweet cherry is in there. Ripe. And mine for the popping.

I close my eyes and pump faster as I picture Emma lying on the bed with her legs spread, inviting me to touch her. “Emm.”

“Yeah, Ben?”

I open my eyes and see Emma leaning over the back of the couch.
Fuck, I can see straight down the top of her gown. And I was right. Her tits are pure perfection.

Her smiling face hovers above mine but then her eyes move and widen as they become transfixed on the jerky movement of my hand below the covers. “Be … ennn?” Her voice is low but thick with shock.

Hearing my name on her lips in that particular moment is all it takes for me to detonate. I reach up and grab her behind the neck, pulling her down for a kiss as I blow a huge load beneath the covers.

“Uhh, Em.” She swallows my groan as a soft moan escapes her lips.

She opens her eyes when I release her. And stares at me, saying nothing.

Fuck. Me. I’m in deep shit. I just kissed Em.

While. I. Jacked. Off.

My best friend’s little sister is all grown up. And I fucking want her.

She will be mine.

E
mma has come
to help Ryan and me pack our belongings at our apartment in Chattanooga; we’re moving home. Clarification: Ryan, Brantley, and Drake are moving home. I’m renting an apartment in Lynchburg about ten minutes from the Briggs residence so I can be close to my girl.

I took extra hours and graduated a semester earlier than Ryan, Brantley, and Drake. Got my master’s in accounting seven months ago and started out commuting to my job in Lynchburg. Ninety minutes one way from Chattanooga. It made zero sense to spend fifteen hours a week driving back and forth, but more importantly, commuting stole precious time from Emma. Staying at my parents’ house in Lynchburg made more sense. And it meant I could see Em whenever she was able to slip away from her parents.
Damn, we’ve done a lot of sneaking around to be together for the last few months.

The five of us—Ryan, Brantley, Drake, Em, and I—are in Chattanooga tonight. Tomorrow is moving day so it’s our last night in the two neighboring apartments we’ve shared for the last four years. I’m not sad but my pals are seriously mourning the loss of their freedom. It has to suck knowing you’ve been living on your own for years and now you’re moving back to live with your parents. No more college fun for those three fuckers.
Time to adult.

Leaving this life behind doesn’t bother me. I have everything I need waiting for me in Lynchburg.

What does bother me is that Em’s asleep across the hall. Ryan gave her his bed for the night. Sort of. He got trashed and passed out on the couch downstairs.

Emma Briggs: within my reach yet completely unobtainable.

Ain’t that always the case with her?

Sleep isn’t even close to claiming me when my bedroom door opens and a soft, warm, luscious body slides in next to me. “Em, what the fuck are you doing? Ryan will kill me if he finds you in my bed.”

“He’s had so much liquor he’s dead to the world … at least until lunch tomorrow.”

Emma crawls over my body to straddle my hips, kissing the side of my neck, and rocking her pussy against my erection. “Why do you do this to me when you know I can’t touch you?”

“You’ve been saying for months you can’t touch me.” She grabs my hands and puts them on her waist as she rolls her hips in a circular motion. “I. Say. You. Can.”

That’s what my dick keeps telling me, too. I think the two of them are in cahoots.

Touching her now could end badly. I won’t chance ruining this. “The state of Tennessee says I can’t but it’s really not about the law. It’s about your brother, my best friend, and what he’ll do to me if I touch you one minute before you turn eighteen.”

“Tennessee is so dumb for making eighteen the age of consent. It’s sixteen in almost every other state. But I have news for you, Ben. You’re still going to be six years older than me after my birthday. I’m never going to catch you. Ryan isn’t going to be on board with us being together regardless of my age. I’m always going to be his baby sister.”

“I have a better chance at survival if we wait.”

It’s been three
long
months. My cock has stayed hard with only the little bit of relief my hand could provide. I’ve ached with need to be inside this girl. Every. Fucking. Day.

No one can believe Ben Westbrook stopped screwing everything with a hole. They’re all burning with the same question: Why?

Only one answer.
Her.

Emma Kate Briggs.

I love the fuck out of this girl. Obsessed like a goddamn madman. I can’t get enough and I haven’t even fucked her yet. We’ve barely even touched. Kisses—that’s all I’ve allowed. But not after next week.

I’m going to fuck every hole she has.

She grinds against my hard dick. Dry humping. That’s what kids do, but I’m no kid. Haven’t been for a while.

That damn devil is sitting on my shoulder, yelling in my ear.
Fuck what everyone thinks or says. Take her. She’s yours. And she’ll feel so good.
That son of a bitch has taken up permanent residence there since I started seeing Em. I’ve ignored him for three months. But not tonight. “Show me your pussy. I want to see what I’ve waited so long to have.” I know it’s wrong even as the words leave my mouth but I can’t help myself. I’m a horny motherfucker who can’t touch the girl he loves.
I need something, maybe just a taste, to get me by until I can truly have her next week.

I turn on the bedside lamp after she moves off me. Her dark hair is in a messy bun on top of her head and she’s wearing knee socks, pink cotton panties and one of my old concert T-shirts. I get even harder and pre-cum leaks from the tip of my dick when I see the dark pink circle in the crotch of her panties. “Fuck, Em. I can see how wet you are.”

Her legs fall apart and she touches the wet spot with her fingertips.
Just like so many of my fantasies.
“The proof of how much I want you.”

I’ve never touched her pussy. I don’t know what it feels like to run my fingers through her folds when they’re slick from need and desire. Or what it feels like to push my fingers inside her sweet little wet cunt while she rides my hand. Or what it feels like to push my finger into her tight puckered hole.

But I’m going to know.
Only seven more days.

“Take off your panties.” She pushes her thumbs inside the waistband and lifts her sweet cheeks as she shimmies them down her hips and legs. She presses her knees together, reminding me she’s never been naked in front of a man until now.
She looks so innocent like that.

I hold out my hand. “Give them to me.”

She hands over her underwear and I bring them to my nose. My dick dribbles again when I smell her feminine fragrance, her sweet nectar filling my lungs. “You smell fucking delicious.”

“Take off your shirt. I want to see your tits.” I’ve spent months picturing what they look like. And now I’m going to find out.

She crisscrosses her hands and pulls her shirt up and over her head, exposing her full, lush breasts. “So fucking beautiful, Emma.”

She cups them from below and pushes them up and together.
Holy. Shit. She looks like a naughty schoolgirl in those fucking socks.

“You’ve never touched them.”

“And I won’t now either even though I’m dying to. Trust me. I want to pinch and suck them so fucking bad I can hardly stand it.”
Maybe even titty fuck them if she’ll let me.
Her breath hitches and I wonder for a sliver of a second if I said that last part out loud. “That’s right, Emma. I’m going to touch them. Suck them. Pinch them. Bite them. You’ll wear my mark when I’m finished with you.”

Dilated pupils have made her normally blue eyes nearly black. “That’s what I want, Ben. To wear your mark. To be all yours.”

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