A Mess of Reason (14 page)

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Authors: A. Wilding Wells

Tags: #romance, #erotica, #hea, #best friends, #country music star

BOOK: A Mess of Reason
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“You want me to stop bringing up the
elephant in the room? The fact that you’re getting married next
weekend…you want me to ignore that? No.”

“Please, can we have one night of just total
fun like old times without talking about it, and him? This is my
last weekend as a single girl, please. That’s the whole point of
this party!”

“Nope.”

“Why not?” She’s semi-pissed. Her eyes are
like impenetrable shields, dark and brooding, filled with
tension.

“Why not? Why fucking not? Seriously, Tess?
You still haven’t ’fessed up as to why you
have
to marry
him. And yet you’ve been prancing around here playing house all
goddamned day in your panties and sweatshirt like I’m your fucking
sorority sister. Tess, not that I need to point this out, but you
are a major cock tease who’s got a massive rock on her hand, which
equals a Do Not Enter sign on her pussy.”

“You want me to put some pants on?” The
virgin purity of the look she’s sporting makes me laugh out
loud.

“I didn’t say that.”

She has the tiny ramekin bowl up to her
mouth and she’s licking the last of the lobster pot pie straight
from it, literally tonguing the entire thing. The edge, the inside,
the outside. Giving it a rimmer of sorts. I wish to hell I was
videoing this because it’s hotter than fuck to watch her tongue and
lips move so seductively. And again, this is not new: she always
eats this way. She’s suggestive in just about everything she does.
Provocative is her nature, but now it’s different.

“Then what do you want me to do?” she says
mockingly. Fine by me, sister.

“Make a choice, because I can’t make it for
you—but you are making it really fucking hard to be stranded alone
with you.”

“Because you want to fuck me?”

There’s simply no misinterpreting her. I
take two steps towards her and wrap my arms around her body and
empty logic out of my brain. Then I make love to her eyes while
laying on a simmering, seductive, panty-dropping voice. “Because I
want to tie you up to that bed and strip you naked and fuck you
seven ways ’til Sunday. Yes, Tess, I want that. But, that,
sweetheart…is not going to happen, and you know all the reasons
why.”

“It wouldn’t really be like cheating,
because we’re best friends.” She practically sings it like she’s
Polly-fucking-Anna.

I think she actually has convinced herself
of this idea. Another lie. She’s decided she wants to mess around
with me, then run off and marry him. She seems to be glossing over
reason number two. But that makes sense, as it’s all she’s ever
known. Shiv in the heart much?

“You can call it whatever you want. I’m not
playing that game, baby. And by the way, should you be drinking so
much?”

Let’s see if she takes my bait and ’fesses
up. A big part of me still wonders if she’s also pregnant—another
reason she has to marry him. But not a word, and she’s drinking
like a fish. I realize one bender weekend might not hurt an embryo.
I’m a guy, hell…I don’t know.

“Since when do you ration my liquor, Sister
Mary Prudence?” Her answer comes wrapped in a cold-blooded
stare.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“You are so cryptic tonight. This is my
bachelorette party: I’m supposed to be getting drunk, you’re
supposed to helping me. Now line up some of those penis colada
shots like a good best friend would do!”

“So bossy! You’re a big girl, Tess, whatever
you want.” I put three penis shots in a row. Then two shots of
tequila for me, without the penis topper, of course. I can’t drink
out of a penis-covered shot, even for Tess.

“Eww, I don’t think I like creamy
shots.”

“I don’t know, Tess…you sucked them down
like a champ. You got skill, girl.” She’s licking the cream from
the penis, then off her lips, and I find myself at a loss once
again. I just can’t help but watch her tongue. She knows exactly
what she’s doing because her eyes never once leave mine, as a tiny,
crooked smile sits on the edge of her lips, making me want to do
every naughty thing conceivable to her.

“You want to be my next victim?” Relentless,
right?

“You want to stop threatening to blow me?
You’ve been telling me for fifteen years what a great blow job you
can give. Jesus, Tess. Go pick out a game—there are only about
twenty choices, every one of them dirtier than the last. You girls
are raunchy.”

“What did you think we were going to do
here, have a friggin’ knitting circle and talk Bible passages?”

She hops off the counter and skips over to
the coffee table as if she’s sixteen. Her legs are gorgeous and
well muscled, with perfectly shaped calves and thighs that seem
never ending. She bends over the table, giving me a full shot of
her ass. And yes, I take it all in. It’s as if she’s head-butting
my groin. Her panties are lacy, red, and sexy as
all-fucking-get-out. They’re a tiny bit see-through, as I can see
her ass crack showing…barely. They’re the sort of panties that only
her fiancé should be seeing—but the hell if I’m not gonna look.

“Oh, oh…perfect. Dirty Dares, that’s what
we’re playing! Rox got this online when we thought you and Striker
were coming. Oh my God, some of these are really bad. Yes, yes,
yes! Are you going to be able to strap on a set and really play
this with me? You cannot bag out and be a pussy when the hard dares
come along. This is a drink or dare game, so get the tequila.”

“Drink or dare, I don’t need a set of balls
for this. What kind of dares? Run around in the snow, then flash me
your ass kind of bullshit?”

“Oh, you are so bad boy, aren’t you? So
tough, Mr. Quarterback. Please. These are naughty, Scout.”

“Might I remind you, I have never had to
drink in all of our history together while playing drink or
dare—unlike someone else I know. I think you’re the one that needs
to strap on a set, sister; you’re already asking me to get the
tequila set up. I dare you to make it through the whole game
without having to do a shot.”

“Oh, fuck off. I can do that. I’m no pussy.
But if I have to promise to take every dare, so do you.”

“Easy. Done. I’m guessing you want a few
shots now? A little liquid courage, princess?”

“Three,” she says as she saunters back to
the kitchen, hugging the game against her chest. Behind her are the
French doors that lead out to the hot tub. The snow is coming down
more heavily than ever, lights in the kitchen dimmed, candles set
around by the dozens, fire crackling away, Christmas music blaring.
It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but it’s who she is. I don’t think
I could have designed a more perfect weekend. Well, that’s not
true—if Creed weren’t in the picture and she was on her back
underneath me, buck naked, that would be the perfect weekend. But
this one… It’ll do.

“Coming right up. You want the penis topper
or not?” I can’t help but dropkick her a soft (or shall I say hard)
one.

“Not. I’ve had enough cock today.”

“Is that so? No more idle threats, then?” I
shoot her a solid double-eyebrow raise and give my lips a rimmer
with my tongue to tease her. Okay, I eye-fuck her a little, too.
And of course she lingers in it with me. Neither of us can help
ourselves.

“Enough plastic cock.” Don’t underestimate
her. She means it.

“Thought so.”

She hops back up on the counter and I nestle
a barstool up next to her. We clink glasses, do one shot, then grab
the second.

“Cheers, baby. May all your dares come
true.” We clink glasses again, throw the shots down, and begin the
game. Tess dumps all the dares into the box top, making sure
they’re all upside down so we can’t cheat…as if we’re seven or
something, right?

“Ladies first.” I shake the box over her
head, and she pulls out a card.

“Oh, this is so easy,” she says, giggling.
“By the way, you don’t get to throw your card in for an exchange;
you have to do the card you pick. And the other person has to
comply no matter what. Got it?”

“Are those the real rules or are you already
redesigning the game, Sass?”

“Those are the real rules. Okay, so my card
reads, ‘Give oral to the fingers of the person to your right.’ Oh
yay! May I have the honor, Scout?”

“Are you sure you and Rox didn’t write these
cards up yourselves? This is custom made for you.”

She takes my right hand in hers. I’ll admit,
I’m kind of turned on by this one. Not that Tess hasn’t licked my
fingers before, but giving them oral…this she’s never done. You
know it’ll be hot.

“Enjoy the show,” she says in an overtly
flirty tone as she flashes me a crushing smile, then bats one of
those wide-eyed looks at me, all full of lust and promise. Little
Miss Innocent, this one.

Her tongue circles around the tip of my
forefinger slowly, eyes on mine all the while. She’s an
irresistible tease. Could bring any man to his knees. She traces
her tongue down to the valley between my fingers and plays a little
down there, sort of akin to licking my nuts. Then, squeezing those
two wet fingers together a bit, she drags her tongue up and down
between the slit, sort of like I want to do to her cunt right this
very minute. Then she plunges them both into her mouth and sucks
hard, all the while moving her tongue in and out and over them,
spreading them and then squeezing them closed.

I’m rock hard. This is quite possibly one of
the most erotic, sensual things I’ve ever had done to me, and let
me tell you, I do and have done everything. She’s moaning,
thrusting her chest at me, squirming her ass around—all of it. My
fingers are sliding in and out of her mouth slowly, and holy mother
of God, she controls every move, pumping small fucks into her mouth
with them, all the while peppering in even deeper moans as if she’s
about to come. Her lips are soaked with saliva and her tongue is
magnificently undulating in and out and around…sweet Jesus, if she
keeps it up, I may literally come. Then she pulls my fingers out
and drags them down the front of her sweatshirt, brushing straight
over her right breast.

“Did that make you hard?” she asks
triumphantly as she draws her knees up to her chest.

Her voice is silky, soft, and indulgent. Can
you stand her? She rocks my entire being; she’s the female version
of meth.

“Tess, Tess, Tess. You are a very naughty
girl. A very sexy naughty girl. It’s my turn—hold up the box.”

She throws her head back and bursts out
laughing. I’m dying to kiss her. Dying. But I resist because if we
start that now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop anything.
Rules or no rules.

“Pick a yummy one,” she sings in a teasing
tone. I grab a card and read it silently. Then I read it aloud
while chuckling. This one a complete no-brainer: she’ll be soaked
and slipping off the counter in no time.

“My card, Miss Harlow, reads, ‘Talk dirty to
the person to your right. When you’ve completed your mission, have
them show proof—wet or hard—depending on your victim’s sex.’ You
think you’ll be able to show me a hard-on, Tess?”

“Oh, this is a good one for you! Get
talking! I want hear how naughty you can be. I want wrong, bad,
naughty…got it? Give it to me hard…fuck me with your words. Ragdoll
me.”

She’s clapping. Laughing. Smiling. Her eyes
are glittery, and a rush of pink shoots into her face when she says
“Fuck me with your words.” And you know what? I’m going to. I’m
going to fuck her so hard with my words that she won’t be able to
walk because her sex is going throb as if I licked it for an hour.
She thinks she’s gonna get a little tiny feather tease, I’ll bet,
but no. I’ve got her blueprint—I’ve had it for fifteen years,
remember? And since I can’t slay her with my actual cock, I’ll do
it verbally, like a jackhammer. Fifty shades of who?

“Come here.” I keep my voice deep and quiet,
already taking pleasure in the fireworks I see popping inside of
her. I pull her to the very edge of the counter, spread her legs
apart and nestle myself right between them. Her panties are against
my zipper. And about those those panties…yeah, well, I’m about to
verbally fuck them right off her sweet ass. I cage her with my
arms, one on each side, pinning her hands under my own as my face
is inches from hers. The magnetism between us is undeniably
white-hot volcanic. My heart is beating like I’m really about to
fuck her, a titanic fuck that’s going sink her…and that’s because I
am.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

TESS

 

 

“I’m gonna verbally wreck you…eat you out
with my words and then, baby, you’re show me how wet I’ve made you,
and just how much you liked it.”

His eyes are smoldering, electric-blue pools
as he says those words inches from my face, his devil-may-care look
staring me down, fucking me, that irresistibly devastating smile of
his making my pulse race. I’m defenseless—he drugs me with his
charms. He could stop right now, because yes, I’m already wet. Damn
the chemistry between us…fuck if I’m not feeling all thermal power
station. But for the life of me, I am not going to miss this. This.
Verbal. Deep. Penetration.

Oh, I know. You don’t need to tell me he’s
going to bring me to my knees orally—with no oral. You think I’m
kidding? It’s gonna be two hits. Him hittin’ me…me hittin’ the
floor. Stud. (He could trademark it.) Yep. All this is about to go
down. He has full security clearance on my most intimate thoughts
and I’m pretty sure my vagina’s going need a time out or some sort
of detention later because of the way it’s already acting up. He’s
going to tell me all the things he wants to do to me, the very
naughty, yummy things I want him to do, things he won’t do unless I
bare myself and break off my engagement to Creed.

The thing is…as you know, Creed’s safe for
me. Safe is good. Safe = secret kept undercover. Undercover =
normal. Creed doesn’t need more of me than I’m willing to give.
Creed doesn’t care that he’ll never see me naked in any form during
daylight, that his entire body will never lie flesh-on-naked-flesh
against mine. He’s fine screwing in the dark, not seeing my eyes—or
anything else, for that matter. He’ll never know about my melted,
torched skin because his hands will never make their way onto my
back or chest, which feel like a road map knit with fishing line.
If you must know, our sex is good-ish. I usually come…and sometimes
we do it again unless he’s got whiskey dick or he’s too high. It’s
not passionate sex, though, in the way I wish it were. But it’s
fine. I’m okay with fine.

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