Helena Hunting - Clipped Wings

Tenley made a soft noise, her fingers moving to my fly. She pulled down the zipper and her hand went into my boxers. I groaned as she smoothed her thumb over the head. Tenley’s grip tightened when I pushed two fingers inside her. She shuddered as I increased the pace, pumping harshly, impatient for her release so I could take her home and get inside her. She didn’t last long, as worked up as she was. After she came, she sagged against the seat, breathing hard. It took her a minute to regain control of her limbs, and when she did, her hand started to move with long, slow strokes.

“Lean back.” She pushed until I was sprawled out on the bench, one foot up on the center console, the other stretched out on the seat, my foot against the door. She kissed me as she continued to move her hand up and down my shaft, thumb circling the steel ball at the head.

I gritted my teeth, aware if she continued I was going to blow my load, potentially all over the interior of my car. It was leather, but still. “Kitten, you need to stop, I’m—”

One second Tenley’s lips were on mine, the next they were gone. Her hair brushed over my cock, the sensation making me jerk in her hand. And then her hot, wet mouth engulfed the head, her tongue swirling around and her lips sliding down.

“Jesus fuck .” I threaded my fingers through her hair. My original plan was to pull her off, but then she started sucking. She angled her head to accommodate the piercing, going slow until she found a smooth rhythm. I involuntarily guided her movements as she sank down and then came back up, over and over. I should have felt some guilt for letting her do this, especially in my car, where it had to be uncomfortable, crammed into the backseat as we were. But the less civilized side of me relished the feel of her mouth, and I wondered why I’d been so intent on keeping her from going down on me, when it felt so fucking good.

My longevity was pitiful. “Tenley, I’m going to come,” I warned, tugging on her hair.

She moaned around my dick and sucked harder, taking more of me into her mouth until I felt the head hit the back of her throat.

“Holy shit,” I groaned, grabbing the seat so I didn’t succumb to the urge to hold on to her hair and push her down. I came violently, my head smacking off the window.

When I was sucked dry, Tenley released my dick and gave the tip a lick. I made a weak sound of protest because it was so damn sensitive. She sat back on her heels, swollen lips turned up in a satisfied grin. I rolled my head in her direction, so relaxed I could barely move.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I muttered.

“But aren’t you glad I did?”

“Mm.” I motioned for her to come closer and pulled her in for a kiss. “Want to come up to my place? When I recover, I can show you how glad I am.”

Tenley sat back on her heels, her expression one of shock. “You’re inviting me over?”

I frowned. “We can go back to your place if you want—”

“No, no! It’s just . . . you’ve never asked me over before.” Her eyes dropped and she twisted her hands in her lap.

She was right. I hadn’t. Not once. I’d made myself at home in her space, reorganized everything from her cupboards to her linen closet to suit my needs. If I wasn’t buying her groceries outright, we were shopping for them together. Aside from the past week, I hadn’t slept in my own bed more than a handful of times since we’d started this thing. So why hadn’t I invited her to my place?

It wasn’t because I didn’t like having people over. Chris, Jamie, and Lisa used to come to my place all the time before Tenley happened. Granted, they were my closest friends and they knew what I was like, so they didn’t razz me too much about my anal retentivity. Nate would probably tell me it was an attempt to keep some distance. Self-protection or some bullshit psycho-babble. Except this time it seemed like it might be true, which was a fucking joke. The past few days in my condo had sucked ass because I hadn’t been with her.

I wanted her in my space. I wanted her in my bed, the smell of her shampoo on my pillows, and the scent of her lotion clinging to my sheets.

I picked up her hand and brought it to my lips. “Well, that needs to change.”

TENLEY

The windows were foggy and the car smelled like sex, even though we hadn’t technically had any. I hoped that would change once we got to his place.

He tucked himself away and zipped his fly. Shifting around, he pressed his face against the back of the passenger seat and fumbled with the release lever. It gave way and the seat folded forward, taking Hayden with it. He grinned dopily as he opened the door and practically fell out.

“Are you okay?” I asked, climbing after him.

He hopped to his feet and brushed off his pants. “I’m good.”

I’d never seen Hayden embarrassed before, or exhibiting any clumsiness. It was reassuring to know I affected him in such a way, especially since his experience far outweighed mine. Score one for putting into practice information gleaned from Cosmopolitan magazine.

We took the stairs to the second floor and stopped in front of unit 222. Hayden unlocked the door.

“Uh, can you wait here a second? I just want to make sure it’s not a mess.” His eyes shifted around like he was nervous.

He started down the hall, stopped abruptly, and turned with a shake of his head. He pulled me inside, twisted the dead bolt, and slid the chain lock into place. Unlacing his shoes, he took them off, opened the closet, and placed them neatly inside before closing the door again.

“I’ll be right back.” He kissed my cheek and left me there before disappearing to the right when he reached the end of the hall.

I shrugged out of my jacket and opened the closet door. Inside were a number of coats for various types of weather, the fall and winter ones most accessible. A rack of shoes lined the floor, the heels perfectly aligned. The upper shelving contained boxes, arranged with the same symmetry. Not a thing out of place, nothing jammed in the back. I’d never seen a closet so organized.

I hung up my coat and removed my shoes, putting them beside Hayden’s before I closed the door. He returned a few seconds later.

“All clear.” He rubbed his palms on his pants and took my hand.

The hall was painted a soft gray, a large antique mirror the only thing breaking up the color. The floors were dark hardwood, gleaming under the warm light thrown off by the ornate chandelier hanging above. I followed him around the corner and stopped short at the sight of the open concept living space. The muted gray color scheme continued throughout.

To the right was a very sparse, minimalist kitchen. The backsplash was white subway tile, the countertop dark gray granite. A bowl of fruit on the island and a soap dispenser at the sink were the only items to break up the continuity. The stainless steel appliances showed no trace of fingerprints. To the left was a dark wood dining table that would easily accommodate six guests. In the center a silver square planter with a single blooming orchid broke the spell of emptiness.

A black leather couch with hard angles and a set of matching chairs defined the living room. A solid wood coffee table sat atop a bloodred area rug. On the opposite wall a huge flat-screen TV dominated the space, and on either side were dark wood shelving units. Each shelf alternated between rows of books, perfectly arranged from smallest to largest, and decorative knickknacks or photos. The images were too far away for me to make out the faces. I recognized a few items Hayden had chosen from my time with him in the basement of Serendipity. It seemed so long ago, but it had only been weeks. Back then I never entertained the notion that I would be here, in his home.