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Authors: Olivia Starke

The Virgin Bet (6 page)

BOOK: The Virgin Bet
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“Please,” she begged. “I need more.”

He growled, a sharp jerk rid her of her bra, and his hot mouth covered her breast, his teeth surely leaving behind bruises as he took sharp nips of the soft skin. But she wanted even more, he made her mad with indescribable desires. Her nails raked his back, drawing out more feral sounds from her new lover.

“You’ll be the end of me,” Brent said on a ragged breath.

She said nothing, her teeth finding his shoulder. She bit down, and he bucked into her. “Ah, sweetheart, just like that,” he called out.

He wedged his hips between her thighs, and she felt his hard cock press into her slit. Her insanity grew, and she thrust against him, instinct taking over. She’d envisioned her first time a fumbling and fuss-filled event where she’d try to figure things out as she went along. She
never
imagined this height of lust, of greedy need.

He reached out, and yanked open the top drawer to the night stand, withdrawing a foil packet. A condom. It seemed larger than life in his hand. His eyes found hers.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He slid off the bed long enough to rid himself of his boxer briefs, while she wriggled out of her panties. She watched, fixated, as he sheathed his cock in the latex. When he returned to her, he slipped his hand between her thighs, stroking his fingers within her pussy.

“You’re so wet and ready for me,” he said on a husky breath. He brought those fingers to his mouth, licking off her juices, before moving between her thighs again. Braced up on his hands, he stared down to her. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he said.

She did so, opening up to him. He reached between them, and traced the end of his cock through her pussy, before testing her entrance. She tensed.

“It’s okay, Tippy,” he coaxed. “Relax.”

He took shallow thrusts, while he rubbed his fingers over her clit. Shivers of pleasure washed through her as she took him further and further inside. Then he stopped, letting her adjust to his girth.

“God you feel good,” she said, arching, and moving into him.

He circled his hips, and she gasped. He slowly pulled back then thrust forward, and the pleasurable shock of the movement tore a sharp cry from her throat. He drove into her, over and over, sending her spiraling higher and higher, until she couldn’t catch her breath. He threw his head back, and she stared at the strong column of his throat.

He reached between them again, giving her clit quick flicks with his fingers. The climax slammed into her and she screamed out.

“Oh fuck.” Brent jerked out of her, grabbing her, and throwing her onto her stomach. His hand came down in a hard slap against her ass, before he grabbed her hips, yanking her into him, and burying deep inside her again. He pounded into her. “Tell me you’re mine, Temperance,” he demanded.

The turn of play left her dizzy, and breathless as her body jerked with his hard fucking. He yanked out of her, and gave her ass another hard punishing slap. “Say it, Temperance.”

She clutched the comforter, and clenched her teeth together. How far would he go now? She hoped she’d soon learn. He withdrew long enough to reach for his jeans on the floor. He pulled his leather belt from the loops. He folded it, then snapped it together, the loud
pop
making her jump. She moved to roll away from him, but he caught her, pinning her face first on the bed. The belt came down in a stinging swat against her ass.

“Say it, Temperance,” he warned, bringing his arm back up.

“No!” she challenged, feeling half-insane. It had to be insanity to crave pain.

The next lash left a sharp burning pain against the tender skin of her butt cheek. His hand paled in comparison to the belt. Crueler, but oh, so much sweeter. It came down again, even harder, and she cried out, knowing she’d come away tonight with bruises. Who was she with him? A lust crazed masochist?

“Say it, Temperance.”

She sucked air through her teeth from the pain of her injured backside. “No,” she hissed.

He brought the belt down in four more hard whacks. Tears spilled from her eyes and she whimpered. Brent hauled her up onto her hands and knees, and turned her to face him. The condom was gone, and he pushed her head down, forcing his cock between her lips. She took him in, until she gagged, then greedily sucked as he balled her hair in his hands. He grunted as her head bobbed. He brought the belt down over her ass again. She squealed and tried to shove away, but he kept her in place with his free hand.

“You’re mine tonight,” he said.
Whack
went the belt. “Mine and only mine.”

Whack!

She tried to scream, the belt’s assault now becoming unbearable, but his girth gagged her.

Whack!
“Oh fuck, Tippy, you’re incredible.”
Whack!

His release pumped down her throat. She coughed when he let her go, and wiped her mouth of the salty alkaline taste. He pushed her back, and she winced as her abused bottom made contact with the bed. She’d be sleeping on her stomach for the next week. He thrust her thighs apart, and his fingers found her pussy. He worked her clit in hard circles, bringing her to the most powerful orgasm she’d ever known within moments. Her body seized with it, and she could only utter a strangled gasp.

She lay there, staring at the ceiling, breathing hard, and trembling. What the hell had she just done? The truth left her dizzy and half-afraid of what she might be feeling for Brent.

“I’m yours,” she said in a small voice that didn’t belong to her. She was a lost woman.

****

The intensity of their play left Brent at a loss. He stared down at the lusty little redhead sprawled on his bed. He’d never taken a woman like he had Tippy, and he worried he’d scared her.
A virgin? What were you thinking?
He’d intended a gentle seduction, not a mad fuckfest. He rubbed his hands over his face and left the bed, heading for the bathroom. He cleaned up then returned, carrying a moistened towel for Tippy to clean up with. She accepted it with a shy smile, not quite meeting his eyes.

Had he ruined things with her? He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in a long time. She took up all the free space in his brain. Days thinking of her, nights fantasizing about her, she was a fever he couldn’t shake. He walked into the living room, and blew out the candles then cleaned up their picnic meal. He didn’t think he could face Tippy, at least not for a few minutes. But those few minutes turned into an hour of him sitting on the couch, staring at the wall.

When he finally returned to Tippy, she lay face down, sound asleep. He eyed her pert little ass, the crisscross of belt welts reminding him of how he’d let himself be free with her. He stretched out alongside her, careful not to wake her, and lightly stroked her fiery red curls spread over her back.

Brent thought of his high school crush, but knew if they had gone out back then, he wouldn’t have appreciated her. Not in the way a man should appreciate someone like Tippy. She was all woman. A take-no-nonsense woman who needed a strong take-no-nonsense man at her side. What they had, what he felt when he was with her, wound around his heart, making it hard to breath.
Love?
But what did he know about love? He’d never loved a woman in a romantic way before, so he didn’t have a hard and fast definition for the emotion, which bothered him. His life was ruled by hard and fast definitions. It’s what made him a good cop.

But, perhaps, what he felt for the woman sleeping next to him made him a good man.

 

Chapter 6

 

She was a changed woman—and it wasn’t due to the hot sex Tippy had had with Brent. It was because she didn’t know what she felt when she was with him. Since sleeping with him, he’d been friendly, but aloof. Like he’d made a concentrated effort to seal off a part of himself from her. And she wished she could do the same when it came to him.

She sighed, lengthening her strides along the pathway at the park. Clouds obscured the sun, and though summer was well on the way, a cool northerly wind sent goosebumps over her skin. She passed by the wooded spot where Brent had forced her behind the oak tree then made her come only yards from a public path. He truly tested all of her rules and regulations of life. And most of all he tested the boundaries of her sheer stubbornness. Yes, she’d always been stubborn, a trait she’d inherited from her father, and her father’s father. They were a ginger headed obstinate lot. She thought it kept her safe and on track in life, but now she wasn’t so sure it’d been her best option. She’d shut herself off from experiences she might have found wonderful. Brent’s firm hand had made her loosen up some of her stickily self-control.

They were supposed to meet tonight for a date, and her stomach was tied in knots. He kept her in a constant state of arousal, even when not nearby, which puzzled, and troubled her. Tippy didn’t like the feeling of being sex-starved, but that’s what she’d become. She craved him, couldn’t get him out of her mind. She plotted, and planned ways of seducing him. Different positions, new things they could try. She’d only just lost her virginity, but she wanted to be an expert in the area of love, because a sad part of herself feared he’d lose interest now that he’d conquered her. Perhaps he’d go elsewhere, needing a new thrill.

On her way back to her car, she stopped, and grabbed a smoothie from the park vender, and then drove home. She really needed to find something to do with her time outside of wall staring, and Brent-induced anxiety pacing.

“Is this what all new relationships feel like?” she asked aloud to her empty car. They hadn’t actually discussed the terms of their relationship. She feared scaring him off by wanting to define exactly what was happening between them. And the fact she feared losing him already added to her trepidation.

Her home was as lonely as ever as she settled in to stare at the TV, a reprieve of the wall. An old 80s movie played, and she did her best to focus on it. The wine bottle called to her from the kitchen, but she resisted the urge to dull her feelings with liquor—it seemed a slippery slope to start climbing. But popcorn wouldn’t hurt, so she went to the kitchen, and stuck a bag inside the microwave.

Her cellphone chirped. She saw a text message from Nick.

Nick: Got the managing job, thanks for the reference!

Her heart broke a little, the retail store he’d applied to was a hot spot, and he’d have a sound, and cozy career path ahead of him, which meant she’d forever lost her manager. Not that she’d made any progress in reopening her bookstore. Brent distracted her from everything save satisfying her hormones and her masochist side. She’d become one of
those
women who couldn’t think straight when they had their hooks in a man. And she’d so easily fallen into the mantrap, making it even more pathetic.

“Ugh.” She grabbed up her cellphone and typed
congratulations
back to Nick. The closest thing she’d had to a friend in years, and she knew now they’d drift apart. She really needed to put herself out there, and make some new friends. The local library had all kinds of book clubs, and activities, things she’d surely enjoy with people she had stuff in common with. Butterflies erupted at the idea of actually going out, and making the effort, and in true introverted fashion, she shied away from the idea. She didn’t want to get involved with people—at least not yet. Not until she figured out what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, and why she’d become so narrowly focused on whatever was going on with Brent. Once she had all of that figured out, she’d find new friends.

The microwave dinged, and she grabbed out the popcorn bag, dumping the contents into a bowl. Instead of friends maybe she’d get a pet. Her allergies forbid anything with fur, but maybe a fish tank, or the likes.

****

Three days later found her in an argument with Brent.

“I’m not going.” She folded her arms across her chest to emphasize her point.

“You’re going and that’s that,” he shot back, mimicking her action.

“But I never got attached to high school, I haven’t talked to any of those people since graduation. Going to our ten-year reunion would be awkward at best for me. Especially if I showed up with you.”

He propped up on his elbow, eyeing her. “Why would it be awkward showing up with me?”

“Because….” She trailed off, not sure how to voice her feelings. She tapped her fingers against the comforter covering the two of them.

“I’m not good enough for you?” he finished. His face had darkened, and his eyes glittered.

She shook her head, surprised at the idea. “Uh, no. You were the popular jock. I was the dork everyone tried their best to ignore.”

“But we’re adults now, Temperance, fuck what they think.”

She wasn’t swayed. Their classmates would at best gossip, at worst laugh out loud when they showed up together. It shouldn’t bother her, but it did. She didn’t have a thick skin like Brent. “So what will we tell our old classmates, that we’re
friends
?” she asked.

He fell onto his back, and looked toward the bedroom ceiling. “I think we’ve gone beyond that, don’t you?”

True, they lay in bed, her sore muscles, and backside a reminder of their rough love play just an hour before. Yes, she thought, they were beyond friendship, but what did she know about relationships?

“Well, what
are
we then, Brent? Lovers? Fuck buddies?” she asked.

“We’re….” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “A couple, Tippy. And we’ll show up at our reunion as a couple.”

She frowned at the idea, imagining the shocked looks and snickering from his school chums. She couldn’t deal with that, even with ten years between her, and high school. “Go without me,” she said in a pleading voice.

“Whatever demons you’ve dragged along the way since high school, you need to face them,” Brent said. “I don’t know what your high school experience was like, but I can tell you mine wasn’t all football and glory. I had a lot of pressure put on me to be the best football player my school had ever seen—both from my family, and from our coach who wanted to make a name for himself. There were times I wanted to drop out to get away from it.”

Tippy blinked, surprised. She’d imagined high school to be his glory years.

“I’m glad you didn’t drop out,” was all she could think to say.

He turned over, threw his arm over her stomach, and drew her in close. “Plus, the guys will never believe the hot date I brought with me.”

She snorted. “Oh yeah, I’m sure.”

He braced up on his elbow again, and gave her a stern look. “No, I don’t allow that, remember,” he said.

“Allow what?”

“I won’t allow you to put yourself down. You’re a beautiful, smart woman, and you were a beautiful, intelligent girl back in school. None of the cheerleaders had a thing on you.”

She wrinkled her nose then rolled her eyes. “Pimples, braces and all, eh?”

He dropped a kiss on her lips. “And long legs, and amazing hair, and perfectly perky breasts.”

He cupped one to emphasize his point, before flicking his thumb over its budded tip. She moaned, and arched into his caress.

“So will you go with me?” he asked, moving down, his lips hovering over her aching nipple, promising so much more if she gave in.

Tippy wanted to say no, and she clenched her teeth. Brent nipped her nipple, sending a lance of pain through her system. She hissed.

“So?” he pressed, baring his teeth, promising another sharp bite.

“Fine!” She grabbed the back of his head, pulling his mouth to hers. “Fine, I’ll go to the stupid reunion,” she said against his lips.

****

Finding a decent dress to wear to the formal event proved to be a nightmare. All lanky in bad spots, while squishy in awkward spots, made finding something that didn’t make her look like an overstuffed sausage nearly impossible. Brent had even offered to go shopping with her, but she imagined he’d like the most revealing thing in the store, and no way would she be showing that much pale freckled skin.

The last dress she tried on was an ankle length dark purple sheath. With a high neckline, and just a bit of her back exposed by a matching lace inset; it seemed perfect, and modest. She turned this way and that, and even the store clerk, who’d thus far remained mute on the topic, commented on how great it looked with her hair, and complexion. The price tag left her antsy, spending so much on a dress she’d wear once didn’t sit well with her, after all she existed on savings, but in the end she had to relent. She went to the register, the clerk rang up her purchase, and she was out the door, heading to Brent’s place. She spent a lot of time there now, the place wasn’t empty like hers. She didn’t feel as lonely, even when he was at work, and she was huddled on his couch with the TV on.

She was getting too cozy with him, a voice warned in the back of her mind. But she was a lost woman, and she decided to ride the ride as far as it’d take her. She’d handle any consequences later.

When she arrived at his place, she dug out his house key, and carried her bag inside. They’d even exchanged keys. She’d stepped into a serious relationship without even seeing it coming. Once inside she deposited the dress bag on the couch, and walked to the kitchen, wanting to have dinner ready for Brent when he got off of work. She found she enjoyed doing domestic duties—cleaning, doing the laundry, cooking meals, and having them ready when he got home. Things she
never
thought in a million years she’d like to do for a man. But she felt like she’d found her groove, something that made her feel useful, but didn’t leave her stressed out like the bookstore had.

Her thoughts wandered to more dangerous territory; spending her days maintaining his home, raising his children. Cooking meals, and doing laundry in a house full of love. Never in her life had she considered housewifery as her future, but never in her life had she met a man who made her feel the things that Brent made her feel.

Brent walked in an hour and a half later. He smiled when he saw her, and pulled her into a hug, giving her a long kiss.

“Smells amazing,” he said when they parted, inhaling deeply. “What’s cooking?”

“Baked chicken with root vegetables,” she said proudly. She’d never been much of a cook, but she was learning thanks to the internet. “Dessert will be pie I picked up at the store.”

“Fantastic.” He kissed her again, and she melded into his embrace, feeling giddy with emotion. She loved him, in that moment the realization seemed bigger than all of the universe.

She pushed away from him, needing a moment to collect herself. She waved toward the couch. “I bought a dress.”

“Let’s see it.”

She walked over, and grabbed the bag with the dress then retreated to the bathroom to try it on. Her hands shook.
Do I really love him or is it all the great sex muddling things?
She pulled the dress over her head, and zipped the side, before she smoothed it over her hips.

“I can’t love him,”
she told her reflection in the mirror.
I can’t afford to love him.

Tippy returned to the living room, and Brent let out a low whistle. “Nice,” he said.

She spun a slow circle, letting him see the back view as well.

“You’re beautiful, Tippy,” he said.

She let out a nervous giggle. “I thought you’d want to see more skin.”

He grinned. “Of course I would, but I don’t like the idea of our old high school friends seeing the parts of you that are reserved for my eyes only.”

She blushed, grateful he liked her purchase. Annoyed that she wanted his approval. She returned to the bathroom, and redressed in her comfy jeans and t-shirt.

“So have you heard who all will be at the reunion?” she asked, when Brent rejoined her in the living room, out of his uniform and dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. He sat next to her on the couch, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her across his lap, cuddling her like a small child. She snuggled close, inhaling his wonderful comforting smell.

“My whole gang except for Mike who died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. She couldn’t pull Mike fully to mind, he was only a generic collection of clothing, skin tone, and hair color in her mind’s eye. “What happened?”

“Cancer.” Brent kissed the top of her head. “There will be a memorial during the reunion for him.”

Tippy felt bad she couldn’t remember his details, but she didn’t want to ask for a description. She tried to recall more of their classmates, and found they’d mostly faded to remnants of hairstyles and clothing choices. Outside of hanging out with a couple of nerdy friends, for the most part she stuck close to home. Just like she did now—well before Brent. And she’d never taken to social media outside of promoting her bookstore.

BOOK: The Virgin Bet
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