LikeTheresNoTomorrow

Like There’s No Tomorrow

Caitlyn Willows

Hot, hungry and horny, Jim’s looking for a night of
scorching no-name sex. Desperate to feel alive, Julia’s on the prowl for a hot,
hard body before the Marine Corps sends her back to war. Who knew a one-night
stand could be more than either of them ever hoped for? Or that they’d have
such little time to enjoy it? Sometimes a person has to take a chance. Do
something a little crazy. Live like there’s no tomorrow.

Like There’s No Tomorrow

Caitlyn Willows

Chapter One

Jim Roderick had spent the last month holed up in a two-man
tent with three other Marines, sweltering day and night in the fucking desert,
playing at games that were too real elsewhere in the world. He hated every
second, even when he was thanking his lucky stars it was only training. It
reminded him too much of the real thing—a nightmare he’d relive day and night
for the rest of his life.

It’d taken an hour to shower the sand and grit from all his
cracks and crevices. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get rid of another
logjam swelling his balls. All the jerking off in the world didn’t ease the
itch to be buried in a hot, tight, wet pussy. It was on Jim’s short list of
things to do tonight—cold booze, hot meal, hard, no-name fuck. He wasn’t
particular about where he got them either. He wanted it fast and he wanted it
now.

So here Jim sat in the corner booth of a place called
Sally’s with a cold beer perspiring in front of him. He could have gone for a
nice, cold chardonnay. The grungy gunnery sergeant riding his shoulder had
argued,
I’m a Marine, damn it, we drink beer
. A cheeseburger with fries
and onion rings was on the way. Steak and baked potato would have been better,
but he didn’t have the energy to argue with his bossy conscience again.

As things stood, he should’ve nixed the onion rings,
considering he was looking to get laid. But the kind of sex he needed didn’t
come with breath mints. Besides, he had those in his jeans pocket, along with
five condoms. Overly optimistic, but what the hell.

While Jim waited for his heartburn of a meal to arrive, he
checked out the pickings for the last item on his to-do list. Music thrummed
through the place, the bass so deep it actually hurt his internal organs. A few
potential candidates gyrated to the song. Jim crossed them off. Any woman who
worked that damn hard for attention had an agenda that smacked of
hunting-for-a-ring.

His dick argued the point. It was one fuck. In and out. He’d
run the drill before, nothing more than a drive-by.

Jim swigged his beer while he considered diving in. Hell, he
could probably do ’em all tonight. He was that horny.
Line ’em up, barkeep.

Nope, it was never as simple as that with those kinds of
chicks. A woman on the hunt for a military husband had a nasty bag of tricks.
Knocked Up Trap being number one. A young, infatuated Marine was easy prey.
Some of the older, horny ones were too. Jim didn’t plan to be one of them,
although he sure fit the
older
and
horny
part.

A bleached blonde breezed in from a side door. She looked
like sunshine in the sea of brunettes surrounding her. Her entourage cackled
and took the booth in the corner opposite him. Blondie flashed him a promising
look as she glided into the last spot and made sure Jim got a damn fine look at
her big tits. She had dream cleavage. A valley so deep it could swallow a man’s
dick and it’d take a month of Sundays to find the way out.

Damn, I want to tap that.
His cock agreed.

Jim dropped his free hand to his crotch and indulged his
lifelong companion with a hard stroke.

“Would you like some help with that?”

Jim snapped his hand away from his dick so fast he swore he
heard denim rip. The whiskey-rough voice didn’t match the little redhead who’d
slipped into the booth beside him. Light freckles were splashed across her
nose, her shoulders and down between what passed as cleavage for her small
breasts. Hell, she sat so close Jim could swear he saw her bellybutton down her
loose top. Check that—a dress. And from what he could tell, she wasn’t wearing
much more than that.

“Wh-what?” For a guy who needed to get laid, you’d think he
could find a better opening line.

“This?” She squeezed one hand over his dick.

Jim nearly shot out of his seat. His bitch of a hard-on took
over, pressing into her hot grip.

A smile lifted the left corner of her mouth and the eyebrow
above it. She slid her hand away and rested it on his thigh. It felt as if
she’d left third-degree burns behind. He was about to grab her wrist and put
her hand back where he wanted when the fucking waitress slid an overloaded
plate on the table before him. Eating was the last thing on his mind now.
Well…eating food, that is. He wanted to lift that little green dress to find
out if she was a real redhead, and if she cropped that hair as short as she did
above, and if its curls were as cute as the ones around her head.

Or maybe she didn’t have any hair at all. Damn, he loved a
clean-shaven woman. He liked eating pussy, the feel of her getting all hard
under his tongue, the rush of juices when she came.

“Mmm…onion rings.” She reached for his plate. “Mind if I
have one?” That smile flashed his way, helping to shut down what little
upper-brain function remained. “It’ll make us even, cancel each other’s breath
out.”

“Help yourself.” She could take ’em all if she delivered
what she was hinting.

Jim’s shields went up. Little Red was awful pushy. Maybe she
had an agenda of her own, beyond the obvious I-want-sex.

“Go ahead,” she said. “I know you want to.”

“Want to what?” A thousand things went through his head.
None of which dealt with caution. All involved Jim and her fucking like monkeys
on crack.

She grabbed his hand, put it on her knee, then pulled it up
her bare thigh. Jim’s body took over at that point and his hand kept moving
until it hit pay dirt—wet, hot,
bare
pussy, except for a little tuft at
the top. He slid in, shoving his fingers deep. Her clit felt like a rock under
his thumb.

“If you make me come, I’ll be forced to return the favor.”
Her voice was low again. That tone that says I-want-to-be-fucked.

Jim didn’t budge. The dare was worth the risk. Walking out
of the place with come-soaked jeans wasn’t. Then there was the whole public
indecency, locked in jail, and all that. The Marine Corps sorta frowned on those
things. He’d be looking at counseling at the very least, court-martial and end
of his career at the worst. Depended on what mood his commanding officer was in
at the time. Either way it’d be a blot on his otherwise pristine record.

Still, she was hot and he loved how her pussy squeezed his
fingers. He could only imagine how those tight muscles would feel around his
cock.

“Yeah, I can see the looks when I stand up with wet jeans.”
Yet he kept his hand where it was. He wanted to see Little Red try to hide a
public orgasm.

“Hmm…” She snagged another onion ring and brought it to
Jim’s mouth. He took it without hesitation, kept his gaze steady, his thumb
busy over her clit. Red’s hand shook a little. She picked up a tall glass of
some cloudy drink he guessed was a Vodka Collins and started to sip.

“You gotta name?” he asked.

She looked at him from the corner of her eye. “Doesn’t
everyone?”

A hiccup jerked her arm. Jim’s shriek of surprise nearly
drowned out the music when her icy drink hit his crotch. His erection wilted
and his dick tried to crawl up his ass.

“Oh dear.”

Jim scrambled for the napkins. Red reached them first. Heads
turned their way, then dismissed them as nothing. Everything happened so fast,
but it felt like an eternity.

“How clumsy of me.” Her tone suggested otherwise as she
pressed the napkins to the puddle soaking Jim’s jeans.

He coughed to cover a groan. Back at attention, his cock
screamed for freedom. Red must have heard it. She stripped his zipper open and
had his cock waving proud behind those tissue-thin napkins.

He’d been frozen in place before but never like this. Jim
didn’t know whether to yank her hand away or wrap her fingers around his
erection. They were in a bar, for fuck’s sake! He went with the second option.
She had a chokehold on his cock. If he moved the wrong way it stood a good
chance of snapping off. Red had him good. So damn good.

Jim chanced a look Blondie’s way. Another Marine had closed
in on her, bugged-out eyes trapped by her cleavage, the erection bulging his
jeans a lick away from her too-red lips.

“She’s not for you.” Red adjusted her grip, tenting the
napkins over Jim’s cock head. “Barely legal. You need a woman who knows her way
around the bedroom, not someone who’ll just lie there. You want…
experience
.”

She squeezed again and he nearly yelped. His hips thrust
into her fist.

“Easy there,” she cooed. “We don’t want to get caught. Trust
me. I’ll take care of this,” she said as she squeezed, ”and you won’t need to
move a muscle. All you have to do is stay quiet.”

“Trust you? I don’t even know you.”

She gave a smile that promised more pleasure than Jim could
imagine. “Isn’t that the point? The allure?” she finished in a whisper.

God, it was. He’d never been more turned-on in his life.

Jim gripped the edge of the booth and tried to look as if he
was intrigued by her conversation. Not that she said anything. Her fingers did
the talking, drumming along the throbbing under-ridge of cock in time with
pulsing squeezes. His gut burned. Fire settled at the base of his erection, in
his balls. His sac was as hard as his dick, hugging his body.

Shit.

Not one stroke. Not a single thrust. He was so close to
coming he could taste come on the back of his tongue. He closed his eyes,
ground his teeth. A groan rumbled its way up. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t
stop any of it. And sure as hell didn’t want to.

Red’s lips covered Jim’s. He jerked at the contact, losing
the momentum of orgasm, then let her swallow his groan as he swallowed her
tongue…and spewed into her fist.

Jim blanked out. Saw white sparks behind his eyelids. When
the fog cleared, their lips were still tight, her tongue urged his back to
life. Then she slowly eased away on a sigh that said all Jim couldn’t.

Red tucked his flaccid partner away. He had the presence of
mind to zip up. As she helped herself to a french fry, he crawled his hand up
her leg. She clamped her thighs closed, trapping his hand before he reached his
goal.

She pushed gently at his arm. “I’m good.”

Jim wasn’t. She’d just given him a topnotch hand job. He wanted
to return the favor and didn’t much like being let off the hook. He knew his
share of guys who didn’t give a rat’s ass if their lady of the moment came. For
all his trash talk about how he wanted this night to go, Jim wasn’t one of
them. Not being able to give her an orgasm made him feel…cheated.

Jim didn’t budge. He sure as hell wasn’t going to force the
issue. But he wasn’t above a little coaxing.

“Sure?” He rubbed his thumb over her thigh, inches away from
honey.

Her eyes glazed. She swallowed hard and reached for her
drink. Anyone else might think she was ignoring him. Jim knew better and tried
not to grin like a fool when she parted the gates. Heat swamped his hand. He
draped his free arm over the back of the booth, leaned closer, and plunged in.

Red’s gasp sucked the air out of the suddenly silent bar. Or
it felt like that since it came out between songs. Jim did a quick check around
to see if anyone noticed. Looked as if most of them were in their own worlds.
That was fine by him. He played with her clit, flicking it back and forth under
his thumb while he ticked off the seconds before the next song. She wrapped her
fingers around his wrist, her grip tighter and tighter while time dragged out.
Jim didn’t know if she was going to shove him away or pull him in deeper. He
prayed for deeper and nearly groaned at the thought of his cock plunging into
her heat.

He buried his face against her neck and inhaled. No perfume,
just woman. God, he loved that. Fresh and clean with the scent of
I-need-to-come woven in.

She relaxed when the song clicked on, fingers slipping up
his forearm, eyes glazed, expression begging him to continue. The tune was a
driving beat but Jim kept his strokes slow. Every time his thumb passed over
her clit he swore it got harder and hotter. Her slick pussy made it easy to
roll and roll. The muscles inside tightened, sucked his fingers inside, and Jim
was pretty damn sure they wouldn’t let go until Red did.

“Please don’t nibble my neck,” she gasped.

That pulled his head up. “Why not?”

Her cheeks pinked.

“Hot spot?” Jim couldn’t keep from grinning.

“Yes.” The flush deepened as she looked away.

Damn, she was kissable. He did it. Slid his mouth over hers
and eased into a kiss he hoped matched the one she’d given him. His cock was
hard again, demanding attention. It could be a selfish prick at times.
She
was his focus. He wanted her orgasm more than he’d wanted his own.

Seriously?
his inner gunny asked. Jim ignored that
too.

He imagined her tits in his hands, the nipples hard and
ready. How she’d feel naked and writhing under him when Jim nibbled her hot
spot. None of it helped the growing problem in his jeans. Her lips tensed under
his. Thighs trembled and clamped around his hand. He dropped his arm to her
shoulder and pulled her close to help steady her and hide the fact she was
ready to blow from the rest of the world. She fumbled for Jim’s waist, fisted
his shirt, and came, soaking his hand with her juices.

He caressed her thigh as he moved his hand away. Ending the
kiss took a little longer. Even when it stopped, Jim didn’t want to move away.
He butted his forehead to hers and watched those long red eyelashes lift until
deep-green eyes smiled at him. That sealed the deal for him. He had to get this
woman in his life…uhm…his bed.

“Need a new drink?” The waitress popped up from out of
nowhere, startling them both.

“Yeah, we’ve had a little mishap with this one.” He pushed
Red’s empty glass her way. “Water too. And,” he looked to Red, “would you like
something of your own to eat?”