Nothing More Beautiful (24 page)

“Jesus, Maci.”

“Ashley then,” I said, with desperation in
my voice.

“No, I’m not going to ask her either. You’ll
just have to take my word for it, okay?” She shot me a look that
said she was done with the conversation. “Why don’t you just ask
Vince later what happened between them?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I grabbed myself a glass
and poured another porter. She started back for the hall and I
tailed her. “But if you change your mind, I’d really appreciate
it.”

“Forget it,” she said with finality.

“All right, all right. God, so
touchy . . . I thought you’d enjoy the
challenge.”

She shook her head, grinning. “I’m not going
to take the bait, Maci.”

“Had to try,” I said, entering the kitchen,
almost spilling my drink. We took our seats, and I did spill a
little on the tablecloth, but luckily missed Danielle. I didn’t
want to push her over the edge into crabbiness.

The rest of the dinner went well, mostly
just introduction talk, including what my friends did for
professions, which prompted Ashley to talk about her investment
firm. She boldly asked if Vince would be interested in a
proposition. Polite as ever, he agreed to hear her out later in the
evening. Alma remained silent through much of it, her sadness
visibly growing deeper the more wine she drank—and she drank a lot
of it. We cleared our dishes to the counter by the sink. Becky was
the last at the table, talking more than eating, a factor I hoped
didn’t pertain to her weight loss.

Vince was rinsing off the plates when Becky
got up and made her way to the sink, but she tripped over the thick
mat in front of the sink, spilling what remained on her plate all
over his crotch. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry.” She snatched up a towel
from the counter, bent down, and started wiping away the sticky
cheese, her strokes spanning from his waist to his mid-thigh, right
over his penis. It was as if she was rubbing him down to get him
hard.

I’d never been the jealous type, but seeing
her down there, stroking like she was, launched a wave of jealousy
in me. It was then that I knew I’d definitely never be comfortable
with a threesome.

Vince looked at me in panic, his wide eyes
asking what to do, before he finally stepped back. “That’s all
right, I’ll just go change. That’s what they invented washing
machines for anyway, right?”

She giggled, straightening up. “So sorry. I
didn’t see the mat.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted.

“Where’s your broom?” she asked. “Do you
have a mop?”

“Becky, really, don’t worry about it. Go
join the others.” Vince nodded at the group that had shifted into
the library, now scanning his shelves. “I’ll handle it. Go.”

She nodded slowly. “O—okay.” She put down
the rag and joined the others.

“She was a little enthusiastic, don’t you
think?” I said, picking up the plate from the floor.

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? She was practically jacking
you off.”

“She’s
your
friend,” he said in
defense. “Besides, I think she was more frantic than
intentional.”

I grinned at him. “If you say so.”

ALMA WAS THE FIRST
to
leave, swearing she had work to do in the morning, but really she
was falling asleep from too much alcohol. It was good she was rich
and had a driver, though she could have stayed in one of Vince’s
guest rooms. Bridgett left second, and then the rest left a few
minutes later at about one in the morning.

“That was fun,” Vince said, removing his
bowtie.

I sat on his bed. “Yeah, it went really
well,” I agreed.

“Your friend Ashley is a tenacious one. She
wants to set up a meeting at her firm to discuss handling my
financial portfolio.”

“Really? She asked you that tonight?”

“Yeah, it was all right. People ask me stuff
like that all the time. They know I’m young and have a lot of
money. I might take her up on her offer and see what they can do.”
He kicked off his shoes and advanced toward the bed. “But I think
we have other business to discuss.”

“You mean Alma?”

Vince halted, taken aback. “Alma? You mean
her drinking? She does that from time to time. It’s nothing to
worry about.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant, though it
was odd,” I said. “I actually wanted to talk about your
relationship with her.”

“Oh.” He resumed his trek from the closet to
the bed. “What do you want to know?”

“How long did you date?” I lay back on the
pillows. “You never really clarified that.”

He had taken off his pants and it was
slightly distracting. He sat down, his back against the right
bedpost. His penis bulged in the boxer-briefs he had changed into
after the accident. “From February to June in 2012, so about four
months,” he replied, his voice steady.

“How come you never slept with her?” The
words slipped out faster than I could filter them.

“It just never worked out,” he said
passively. “I guess we never connected that way. No chemistry, you
know? Then we mutually broke things off soon after we graduated
with our Masters and started the company.”

“No chemistry? But she’s so pretty?” I
stared at him, unconvinced by his explanation. “Both Ashley and
Danielle were commenting on her looks all night. Even if there’s no
chemistry, wouldn’t you at least try
once
, to see if it’s
just nerves?”

He frowned and gave me a small shrug. “I
don’t know what you want me to say. We never had sex and that’s the
truth. Are you saying you don’t believe me?”

“No, I believe you. I’m just trying to
understand why not.”

He laughed. “Would you prefer that I had
slept with her?”

I considered the question for a minute.
“No,” I said at last. “I’m just a little shocked that it never
happened.”

He scooted closer and ran a finger up my
thigh. “Well, if it means anything, I think we have a lot of
chemistry.”

The soft touch awoke the passion from
earlier in the evening. “Is that so?”

His finger went up and down my leggings,
each time getting closer to my clit, and soon I forgot all about my
fears concerning him and Alma. I gasped when his palm stopped on my
clit and held. I looked down at his bulge, the underwear barely
containing his hard-on. The transition from discussion to arousal
was so fast, it seemed like desire had suddenly flooded my body,
and there was no way I could stop it—but I didn’t want to even if
it were possible.

He withdrew his hand and pulled out his
notepad with the list. “Which one do you want to cross off
tonight?” We regarded the thirteen remaining fantasies together.
When my eyes hit number thirteen I knew what I wanted. I pointed.
“This one.”

His penis responded with a jerk, fighting to
break through the cotton. “Pick up where we started?”

I nodded. He stood and pulled down his tight
boxer-briefs. His erection bounced with life. I crawled off the
bed, my eyes hungry. My lips wrapped around his smooth skin,
sucking, as I slid down his shaft as far as I could go. It was so
strange how simultaneously soft and hard his erection was. His hips
thrust forward, and I gagged, but didn’t flee like I had before,
trying to stay calm.

I slowly glided back and rolled my tongue
around his tip. He shuddered with a groan. His stomach and hips
flexed, and while I glanced up, I could see each muscle of his
six-pack. Seeing his toned body urged me on even more. I ran my
fingers across his chiseled stomach as I sucked harder and another
groan escaped his mouth. My left hand grazed his skin, stopping on
his butt for support—
and
because I liked to squeeze it. I
moved down the length of his shaft, deeper than before, almost to
the base, but it was too big for me to reach. I kept reminding
myself to breathe through my nose so I wouldn’t choke as his body
reacted.

One of his hands reached around and cupped
my hair. He opened his eyes and gazed down at me, his brown eyes
boiling with passion. “You look so sexy when you do that,” he
breathed. His hips flexed again, forcing his shaft deeper, and I
sucked harder in response.

I rested at his head and circled it with my
tongue in big, wet strokes. He tasted salty and delicious, and I
could feel the slickness of his pre-cum as my tongue maneuvered
around his swelling head. He abruptly stopped me and lifted me to
my feet. Kneeling, he tugged on my tight leggings and thong,
inching them off in the steamiest way possible that made me crave
his—
cock
. The word popped in my head. It sounded dirty and
erotic . . . and I liked it. I wanted to please
his cock as much as he had pleased my clit the week before.

His hands gripped my butt and pulled me
forward. He smiled up at me as his tongue connected with my clit
that sent a jolt of pleasure through my body. “You shaved, too,” he
said, pleased. “It’s so smooth.” He explored the whole shaven
region. Then he returned to my clit, and his tongue flattened as he
applied pressure to his strokes. His hands squeezed my butt and I
let out a soft moan. “So firm,” he whispered.

“I want you in my mouth,” I begged after a
minute of his slow, methodic tongue massage.

He stood, wiping his mouth. His cock was so
hard and engorged, it looked like he was going to come right then.
“I bought this, too,” he said, taking a calm breath. He walked to
his nightstand and took out a clear bottle from the top drawer.
“It’s tangerine flavored.”

“Lube?” The word sounded so foreign and
naughty to my ears. I hadn’t expected it, and I think it showed on
my face.

“Was it a bad idea?” he asked,
cautiously.

“I’ve just never used it before,” I said.
“It was always a joke that it’s for old people, but after reading a
few chapters of ‘
The Guide
,’ I know it’s definitely
not.”

He smiled, relieved. “I think I should be on
bottom. I don’t want to crush you.”

I moved forward and squeezed his cock,
eliciting a grunt. “You’re so sweet.” I directed him to the bed,
released my hold, and pushed him down. I took the sides of my dress
and pulled it up, tossing it to the floor, then unhooked my bra,
freeing my breasts. He buried his head in my cleavage as I pushed
my boobs together. Withdrawing for breath, he ripped off the
plastic packaging to the tube, popping up the lid, pouring a
handful of lube onto his palm. His hand reached for my pussy and
rubbed the entire area. A tremor shot through my body. I bit my
lip, letting the feeling envelop me for a second while he kissed a
nipple.

“My turn.” I extended my hand, palm up,
wiggling my fingers. He squirted half my palm full. As he set down
the bottle, I ran my hand down his cock to his balls, massaging
them.

“Fuck,” he gasped. I pumped his shaft a few
more times before swinging my legs over his. Swatting the pillow to
the floor, he lay down, his back flat across the bed. I scooted
back so that we were in perfect 69 position. His fingers slid up my
legs and around my waist, lowering my clit to his tongue. I wanted
to scream in ecstasy, but held it in, focusing on the tip of his
head. The lube tasted like sweet orange Creamsicle—delicious. I
licked right underneath the tip, the male sweet spot, I found out.
He thrust up, sending his cock into my mouth, and I could feel him
at the back of my throat, tickling my uvula. I forced him back,
sucking, swirling around and around.

His tongue penetrated my pussy, and then
glided down to my clit, upside down. “I could eat this all day,” he
said in a heady voice. Letting his words seduce me, I could feel
that wonderful pressure building in my body, as his tongue and nose
worked, rubbing, licking. The lube added a slippery, exciting
aspect. I had felt wet on the inside before, but this time I knew I
was wet on the outside, and then I noticed a finger massaging the
entrance to my pussy. I cried out when he inserted it. Everything
was so slick, it went right in. He added another finger after a
minute.

Pumping his shaft with my right hand, I
squeezed and fondled his balls with my left hand, playing with his
tip all the while. I couldn’t tell who was louder, him or me, as I
tried to focus on pleasing his cock. It grew more difficult by the
second. My hips had a mind of their own, in rhythm with his fingers
and tongue.

Pleasuring while being pleasured was the
most erotic experience. There was nothing like it, but it was much
harder to maintain, and at times I forgot what I was doing, falling
away into the sweet sensations. Resuming my strokes, Vince called
out, “Harder, harder.”

I grasped his shaft with more vigor, but he
kept asking for more pressure, harder, harder, until I was
squeezing as firmly as I could. His head had swelled so much, it
barely fit in my mouth, so I continued with my tongue,
swirling.

His fingers, tongue, and nose were moving so
fast—keeping pace with my hands—that I had to shout out, “Softer,
softer.” He complied for a moment, but soon he was lost in my
grip.

“I’m gonna come,” he warned. I put my mouth
fully over his head, preparing myself for what was about to happen,
stroking his long slick shaft as fast as I could. His head swelled
a bit more, signaling his climax. Suddenly, his cock pulsed,
shooting a stream of semen straight at the back of my
throat—surprise flooded my body. He cried out, over and over, and
my hand never stopped until he stilled, empty.

His penis throbbed, still stiff, the blue
veins bulging. I rolled off him, hot semen in my mouth. His eyes
were barely open, but when I turned to him, he gazed at me, elated.
I swallowed the oozing liquid and his cock responded with an
aroused pulse. “That was so hot,” he said, his breath rough. I
slowly licked my lips, my eyes locked with his. I had never felt so
sexy and erotic.

He waved me to him, and as I leaned in, his
hands wrapped around my body, pulling me into his arms. The hard
kiss that came next surprised me, his tongue in my mouth,
exploring, swirling, sliding across mine. I could sense his
satisfaction—his gratefulness. He pulled away, smiling. “Now it’s
time for me to finish what I was doing.” He lay back down, clutched
my hips, and slid down across the sheets so that his head was under
my pussy.