Bite Me (Halloween One-Shot)

I kind of abandoned this story as Halloween passed, but I just couldn't let it go.  People keep scoring goals and making me all wobbly.
___

“Oh, hey Emma.”

Yesssss, I thought. But that’s what I’d been thinking for three years every time I saw Emma, which was nearly every day. It got exhausting. Still my heart jumped - or was it my dick? I honestly believed that any given day with Emma would be the day I finally got to have sex with the perfect girl.

“Mike!”

It wasn’t unusual for her to be answering this door, in fact it was probably just as likely as the owner of the place himself. But her very familiar face was surrounded by an unfamiliar mane of blond hair.

Her costume. Right. Halloween.

Which was the whole reason I was here.

“What are you, out on bail?” She moved aside to let me into the hallway. Her feet were bare, pink toenails peeking out from beneath the long legs of her sweatpants.

“Coach said I should go to the party, or it looks like I’m hurt worse than I am. Or like I’m in trouble.”

Emma looked up at me, a wry smile on her pretty mouth. “You are in trouble.”



“Guess I’m off the hook.” I wasn’t, but the sooner I got back on the ice the quicker absolution would come.

I had a two goal, four-point game two weeks ago. That night hand ended rather pyrotechnically in a drunken almost-fight outside a bar and a call to the team’s legal department from a very lenient police officer. No harm no foul, except that Coach wanted to kill me. I followed Emna’s perfect little ass into the kitchen, where a raft of Halloween supplies were strewn across the huge granite island in the middle of the kitchen.

“So what are you going to wear?”

“Can I borrow something? You said you had lots of extra stuff.” I began pawing through what looked like a random pile of costume pieces. She reached out a slapped my hand.

“That’s Mojo’s! A couple of guys were already here. I really don’t have much left, Mike. We might have to make something up.” Emma looked me up and down slowly, either thinking about what to dress me in or mentally taking my clothes off. You never could tell with her.

“Good thing you’re a stud, Green. We could just pin a number to your shirt and tell everyone it’s a bachelor auction.”

I pulled Emma into my arms and pressed her against the island. My whole body responded the way it did whenever I was within five feet of her - all senses on alert, ready to raise the flagpole at the first hint of some territory to mark. Her body fit to mine like a magnet - her breasts to my chest, my thigh slipped between her legs. She laughed but didn’t try to run. She never ran. Very confusing, this girl. One day I might just do something about it.

“You can’t afford me,” I pushed her wig back and growled into the soft skin below her ear. “But you know I do charity work.”

“Ahem.”

I looked back over my shoulder without setting Emma free. I’m sure Nicky was giving us a sarcastic look from the doorway, but his face was half-covered.

“Hey bro.”

He stepped into the kitchen and held out his arms. “How do I look?”

She squeezed out from between my hips and the wall, brushing and jostling all the important parts in the process. She motioned for Nicky to turn around. He was head-to-toe in black - high black boots, pretty tight black pants, a gauzy black shirt with a belt, plus a bandanna tied around his hair and a black mask over his eyes.

Emma made a weak sound, let her shoulders curl in and whimpered like she was crying.

“Mother of God you are so hot, Nick.” She always made her compliments as statements that brooked no argument. “I’m gonna be beating the puckbunnies off you all night.”

Nicky blushed so hard the mask was no help in covering it. He always did when Emma told the world point blank that he was a slampiece. If I, or any of the guys, ever talked to a girl the way Emma talked to us, we’d get slapped and probably sued. She had immunity.

“I think the idea is for them to beat him off,” I suggested.

Nicky drew the sword from his belt, held the point up near my face and said, “I’d get my own room on the road if I killed you. Where’s your costume?”
____

I put my head down on the table. Being this turned on all the time took a lot out of me.

Mike was sitting on the counter, feet dangling, wearing the shit out jeans and a pull over. He always looked like he was ready to fuck something, and I always wanted it to be me. Nicky had the mask and bandanna off, but was still in his all-blacks leaning that massive, climbable hulk of a body against the wall. Just that lean made me weak in the ladybusiness. Our outfits had been my idea.

“The Dread Pirate Roberts?” he’d asked. “Who will you be?”

“Buttercup. Long red dress, long blond hair. Just follow me around saying ‘as you wish’ all night.”

He smiled the way he always did when I basically propositioned him - half-acceptance, half-embarrassment. “No wonder you like this idea.”

Now we had been through two hundred costume ideas for Mike. Well, maybe twenty but we were running out of time very quickly. The Capitals team Halloween party was in two hours. We’d ordered takeout and popped a few beers because there was no sign of leaving here soon.

“Can’t I be something with you guys? Who else is in this movie?”

“The Princess Bride,” I informed him. “I thought about it but we don’t have the stuff for any of their costumes.”

Mike looked defeated - he’d let himself get excited about this party and about escaping Boudreau’s wrath for the shit he pulled after the Detroit game. Nicky and I had been there, and drunk Nicky always wanted to back Mike up in a fight. I could see how that would go - slap-fighting all around. Luckily Backstrom hadn’t gotten in any trouble because the fight was shut down before it started.

Nicky looked annoyed. He had suggested we go as a couples costume; it helped control the women who couldn’t control themselves. Not that I could blame them - he was six feet and change of solid Swedish brawn. The summer had been very, very good to Nicky. Plus he was so sweet you couldn’t help but think about licking him. The shy guy who’d been one of my best friends for the last two years was finding it doubly hard to hide himself, so he tried to hide behind me and my smart mouth. My problem was keeping my mouth off him.

Mike, of course, never tried to hide. The first time he showed me the sleeve tattoo he’d gotten in the off-season, I insisted on exploring every inch looking for where they’d hidden the little 52. It was just an excuse to touch him and we both knew it. The examination turned into a tickle fight that nearly ended - as all our interactions did - in torn clothes and rumpled bed sheets and broken furniture. Never yet, though.

“I do have one idea, we’ll need to go to your house. And you,” I turned to Nicky, “will have to take that off.”

“You said you like it,” he protested. For someone who got so awkward with innuendo, he certainly loved the attention.

“I’d like to help you take it off,” I said honestly. “Just keep it near the bed upstairs.”

Nicky blushed, Mike laughed evilly and I ovulated. Another typical day.

Fifteen minutes later, I was laying on the dark brown down comforter of Mike’s bed, openly watching him change. He had his shirt off for no reason, just because we both liked to admire him.

“You’re sexually harassing me,” he said, looking at himself in the mirror the same way I was looking at him from behind.

“So drop the jeans and do something about it.”

I wish he would. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only girl in the world Mike’s not fucking.

“One day Emma, I’m going to make you very sorry for the way you tease.”

“And me, laying patiently on your bed waiting to be spanked.”

He rolled his eyes. “How about these?”

His jeans were medium wash, probably hundreds of dollars, and they didn’t leave much if his ass or thighs to the imagination. That was exactly the point. I’d known Mike a few years ago when he’d been chubby, tending toward hefty, and worlds more awkward about his looks. Now that he’d grown into his body and figured out the science of keeping it in shape, he was understandably proud of how good he looked. I always said the only thing between him and Jersey Shore was an extra set of crunches.

“We’re going to ruin them,” I reminded him. As if he cared about the money.

“You can come shopping with me for a new pair. We’ll break in a few changing rooms.”
____

I closed my eyes against the heat rising in my face. Of course I was blushing, but Emma’s hands were also coursing over my skin, their softness broken by the prickle of flecks in what she was rubbing onto my body.

Who do I have to be the blond one?

We were standing in the kitchen. She’d had me put on a button down shirt, only to open the buttons one at a time, slowly, while looking right into my eyes. My mother would die if she saw Emma’s brazen behavior, or the way I was wrapped around her finger. There was something about Emma’s eyes, like they held the key to all her joking and flirting. Whatever she really wanted was in there somewhere. It was not inside the waistband of my jeans.

Well it is, but...

“Do you really need to go that low?” I asked, eyes closed. Her hands were flat on my stomach.

“Not at all,” she said, still touching me.

“You’re worse than the guys.”

“That’s why they love me,” she teased.

“They all think we’re really together, that we just lie to them.” I looked at her now, for a clue. The corner of her sweet lips curled. With her blond wig off, her long light brown hair was the same sexy heap I was used to.

“They’re just jealous,” she said.

I wish they had something to be jealous about.

Emma stepped back and admired her work. She’d gelled my hair away from my face, still saying it was less product than I usually wore. In jeans, loafers and an open shirt it was hardly a costume if not for the rest of her work.

“Nicky, Jesus. I want to rip that right off you.”

GO AHEAD.

One day I was going to drag her into my room and lock the door for a month. But let’s be honest, I was just too nice. Emma loved me but I wasn’t sure she wanted me at all, no matter what she said. She thought she should, but the guys who really got her were more like....

At that moment Mike wandered into the kitchen with no shirt on.

Emma is the female Mike. Which is why Mike and I both love her.

“Woah dude. You look good.” He touched my neck, making it flake. “Did she put this all over you?”

“Just what you see.”

“I’m saving the rest for later,” Emma said coming up next to him. She stole a sip from his bottle then pulled off the sweater she’d been wearing.

I had to look away. She wore a white thank top underneath with thin straps. It was cut low enough that the lace trim along the top was definitely feeling her up. Her breasts swelled, round and high and soft, pressed together in the middle to form a perfectly straight line of cleavage. Mike had no such manners.

“I’m gonna get drunk and motorboat you, Em. Just a warning.”

She had him dip his fingers in red paint and run them over her side, like he was trying to grab her with one hand. It made four dark, angry red marks across the bright fabric. While it dried, she turned toward me and held up a paper towel. I applied a temporary tattoo to her delicate skin, holding it firm for thirty glorious seconds of looking right down her bra. Then she finished her outfit by taking a pair of scissors to Mike’s work.

Emma lined us up and looked us over. Her teeth sunk slowly into the ripe curve of her lower lip as she took her sweet time ogling Mike, who flexed her her enjoyment. Then she did the same to me.

“Shit, guys. Let’s go before I get pregnant.”
____

I pulled up in front of the club. Emma was in the backseat already laughing at herself, at us. I caught her eyes in the rearview mirror and she blew me a kiss. The valet’s mouth dropped as he opened the car door.

I came around the SUV and hit the sidewalk just as Nicky was climbing out of the front seat. A long line of hopeful party-goers were huddled against the front of the building, trying their best to shield mostly-naked bodies in slutty Halloween costumes from the wintry cold. A couple of girls screamed when they saw us. Then a couple more.

John Carlson stopped dead in his tracks on his way to the door. He wore a huge cowboy hat, sheriff’s badge and leather chaps with boots. He gawked at each of us in turn:

Me, in tight jeans ripped off above the knees and no shirt, my hair perfectly dark and scuplted. Nicky, pale as milk with his hair back, his shirt open and every inch visible inch of him covered in glitter. He smiled to bare his fangs. And Emma, long brown hair tangled like she’d just been fought over, with vampire teeth marks tattooed on her neck and a shirt shredded by a bloody werewolf paw. Jacob, Edward and Bella.
“Holy fucking Twilight!” Carly said to Emma, “This must have been your idea.”

Emma smiled proudly. “Not as good as my idea for you, me and those chaps later on.”

How we made it to the VIP area I don’t know. The place was packed and while guys backed up to let us through, women moved closer to stop us. Maybe shirtless wasn’t a good idea - I would be sore as shit from flexing all night. But in ten seconds I was propositioned ten times by girls in as many different costumes. Nicky held onto Emma like a life raft and plowed right through. I was jealous of the way she protected him, even if I’d never admit to needing it.

“Fucking hell!” Ovi shouted when we made it behind the velvet rope. Everyone turned to stare at us. I felt a wave of pudgy teenager self-consciousness approaching until Emma slid her hand along the bare skin at my waist, standing between me and Nicky.

“What, am I only allowed to have one date?” she deadpanned.

The party swirled around us, drinks went down easily and I did my best to stick with the other parts of my costume. Emma didn’t seem to mind her bare arm or shoulder pressed to my naked chest all night. My hand fit so comfortably to the back of her neck. It was possessive and protective, exactly how I felt with her in a room full of other men.

Just staying in character.

I didn’t think people would recognize my costume if Emma and Nicky, or Bella and Edward, weren’t around. But I was wrong. I was also alone and at the bar. Not a good combination.

“Hey Jacob,” a very buxom Cleopatra purred into my ear. She leaned against my back and dragged her long fingernails up my bare spine. “Looking for someone to pet you?”

The guys had practically lined up to flirt with Emma all night. She was like target practice - if you got a laugh or a pat on the ass, your game was working and you could go forth to conquer available women. Emma browsed every dish on the team but she never, ever took a bite. It was as if she knew none of the women here were real, none had the chance to be what she was: permanent. Now, away from her side for the first time all night, I watched her run a hand through her hair. She glanced toward Nicky to make sure no one had bitten him, and licked her lips like she was thinking about doing it herself. My body shuddered. She was the prize.

I turned to tell Cleopatra yes and show her exactly where to put those hands, when over her shoulder I saw Emma throw back a shot, then suck on a lime. The curve of her neck, and lift of her breasts as she tipped her head - I grabbed my drink and twisted away from the girl at the bar. Emma saw me coming, her eyes flicked down to my lap and caressed their way up - I felt her gaze more than Cleopatra’s nails.

She wants this. Be a good dog, Mike, and don’t make her beg.

“You’re still alive. I thought they would have torn you apart by now,” she tipped her head toward the women standing all around us.

“Stronger than I look,” I flexed every muscle in my body.

“Not tonight,” she purred, running a hand down the line at the center of my chest. “I think we can all see exactly how strong you are.”

There were four shots left on the table. I passed her one, tapped them together and we both drained them. Emma made that pinched face before smashing the lime into her mouth. A tiny spray fell wet on my bare chest, a big drop of juice ran down her chin. My own shot was still burning it’s way across my tongue. I tossed my glass onto the table, grabbed Emma’s arm in one hand, the two full shots in the other and pulled her toward the dance floor.
____

Mike skirted the seething mass of people on the dance floor. I couldn’t see over them or over him, so I followed the hard lines and perfect angles of his naked back through the club - and into a dark corner.

“What are we....”

“Drink this.” He put another shot of tequila under my nose, and a lime atop the glass. His gorgeous brown eyes were very serious all of a sudden.

“Okay.” I lifted it in salute and we both swallowed back the alcohol. It stung the whole way down; I quickly bit the lime wedge to soothe the burn. A second after the cool, sweet liquid washed across my tongue, Mike yanked the fruit away from my mouth. Then he kissed me.

Total meltdown.

All at once I was flat to the wall, his hands in my hair and his tongue in my mouth. His knee forced my thighs open until his huge leg slid all the way up into my crotch. It was like being kissed by a high-speed car crash. One of his hands slipped down my neck and roughly groped my breast, fingers curling over the edge to find nipple. All that bare skin bled body heat so that he was hot to the touch. My hand barely made it around the curves of his biceps. Mike groaned and gave me one hard thrust, both up and in, so my heels lifted off the floor and his body wedged beneath mine.

I had seen Mike kiss a lot of girls. But not like this.

And I kissed him back. God help me. For all the flirting we’d ever done, all the smart remarks I’d ever made, I wanted a piece of him like he was the cake at a birthday party. Apparently he’d been listening. I leaned into him, slipping an inch down his thigh until I was snug in his lap, my hip grinding against his obvious arousal.

“My God, Em” he panted, taking his lips to my ear and biting hard at the soft lobe. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

I wanted to climb of out of my skin, scream at the top of my lungs and rake my nails across a chalkboard just to get it all out. We’d been friends for almost three years. Mike at his highest and lowest, best and worst - I thought I had seen it all. Now the one thing about himself that he gave away, the one thing about Mike all those girls knew over me.. well, he was half-naked already with his dick getting hard. Mike bit down on my neck, right over the vampire mark.

“Give me tonight.”

I just said, “Outside.”

Behind the club was the valet lot. We ran around the back of Mike’s big SUV and I dropped to one knee, feeling under the metal covering the bumper. I found it in a second: a magnetic second key container. He beeped it open and we dove into the back door before anyone could see us.

“Come here,” Mike hissed. He hauled me back, pushed my ass down hard into his lap and scooped up my breasts as he kissed the exposed part of my neck. He’d shaved for his costume but even a few hours of growth was enough stubble to rasp across my skin.

“Fuck, Emma.”

I struggled free only to turn around and straddle him. Mike palmed my ass with both hands. My arms spread wide along the top of the back bench seat, looking for that little button. When I hit it, the seat fell flat and Mike landed on his back underneath me. I reached between us and got a handful of his package. One long, slow push of my hand and he groaned again. I grinned at him.

“If I told you,” he struggled to say as I used my other hand to pop the button on his fly, “how many times I have,” now he sucked in a breath as my fingers burrowed beneath the soft waistband of his boxer briefs, “thought about this....”

My palm brushed over the rigid, trembling head of his cock and kept on going, measuring the thick girth and impressive length of his shaft, until I felt the springy curls of his darkest hair. His eyes were screwed shut like he was trying not to phrase into a werewolf.

“I always knew you were big,” I said, unable to stop the game.

“Suck me,” Mike said. He didn’t mean to whisper but he had no breath left. Those bottomless dark brown eyes opened just to see me lick my lips in promise and begin sliding down his body. With only a pair of jean shorts on, it was hardly a blink before his naked cock was throbbing in my hand.

“Mmmmm,” I dragged the top of my tongue along the ridge of his tip, barely touching him, while he squirmed. “I’ve thought about this too.” Then I dropped my mouth over his head and down the shaft as far as I could go. Mike locked up, hands flying into my hair. I took a deep breath and did it again, spreading my spit down his length and getting a little more of him each time. On the fourth pass, his tip hit the back of my throat.

“Fuck, babe. Get it all.”

I did it again, then worked the smooth parts with my tongue before taking him deep again. His impossibly strong hands held me still as his hips jerked upwards, fucking my mouth. I closed my eyes and did the best I could to lick and lap all parts of him before he slid into my throat on every third stroke. His thighs were rock hard beneath my hands, his ass barely touching the seat as he moved.

“Swallow it. Taste me.”

He made it a few more punishing strokes before he held my head down, so hard I couldn’t move, and roared as a hot, creamy load of jizz burst on my tongue. I swallowed quickly as two, three more splashes hit the back of my throat. He moaned and I felt the tension run from his body like water down a drain. When he fell still, I used my lips to clean him off.

“Hmmm.” I made a satisfied noise, sitting up. “Wow.”

Mike was tossed across the flat bench seat, his chest heaving. With one big hand he pulled me over him.

“Jesus Christ, Emma.”

His soft, full mouth found mine, soft at first and then more insisting. He turned toward me and deepened the kiss. He would love to taste himself on a woman’s lips. I helped myself to whatever I could reach of his incredible body.

“I have wanted to come in your mouth since day we met,” he mumbled, thankfully not trying to be romantic.

“I always thought you be the one to go for it.” I walked my fingers along his pectoral muscle. “Horniest guy on the team.”

He chuckled at my comment, taking another kiss and squeeze in the process. The back of his hand brushed my stomach. I lay down, opening the roads, letting him have the run of me. Mike’s eyes were heavy with lust. He liked the chase - and we’d had a long one - but Mike was a predator at the top of the food chain. He’d take an easy kill but tire quickly and leave. Only if his intended wanted to play, and play at his level, would he savor the hunt.

“I want you, Mike,” I said softly. The darkness pooled in his eyes.

“Tell me,” he says hoarsely. I knew he’d be a talker. Already his still-sticky penis was stirring against my thigh.

“I want a lot of things. But mostly, right now,” I put my mouth to his ear and breathed, “I want you to hold me down and fuck me.”
____

I nearly came from the words she spoke. If she’d twisted her hip I’d have soaked the backseat in wasted affection. Emma, all of her, really here and naked and asking me to do something I’d wanted to do for years. I got her jeans and panties off in a flash and she opened her knees; my hand followed heat up the inside of her thigh.

“Nuuuuhyesss,” she moaned as my thick fingertips dragged the wet trail between her legs. I went again, then a little more, pulling the folds with my fingertip. Emma writhed her breasts against my chest. This was Emma. This was crazy. It was also was the best fucking night of my life. The only thing she could be more than perfect was wild. I pushed two fingers into her all at once, slipping into dark heat and the proof that she wanted me. My whole body rocked at how tight, how small she was. How hard I was gonna have to pound her. Emma made the same weak sound she’d done when she saw Nicky in his costume.

Nicky. He’ll never believe this.

“What about....,” my voice strangled, unable to believe I would question a moment like this, “Nicky? Everyone? They all want you - your mouth, your pussy.”

Maybe it was the best time for talking because she was completely at my mercy. Before she could speak I rubbed my big thumb against her clit and she shuddered.

“Maybe you’ll be nice and share.”

She’d put that on me?

I guess there was something to be said for first dibs and finders-keepers.

I rolled on top of her and kissed her at the same time I rubbed into her happy button again. Then I pulled my fingers from her body and licked them, as I pushed the head of my cock right up to her slit. She gave me a naughty grin.

“Backseat of your car... such a bad boy,” she purred.

I wiped it off her face with a slam of my hips. Emma half-screamed as I nearly put her through the floorboards. The tip of my dick touched the only place that felt better than the back of her throat. I hunched over her and started riding, hard. She took a few punishing strokes then began moving against me, doubling the result of everything I did. Her hands were on my shoulders, my back, digging into my ass encouraging me to go even deeper. I’d never been so glad in my life for all that time in the gym. I felt invincible as I knocked tiny sobs of breath from her perfect body. Her soft places gave way and we fit together the way I always knew we would.

“Soohhhhfuckingtight,” I grunted, forcing myself in again and again. The pressure was incredible, inescapable.

“Mike, I can’t...,” she gasped, shutting her eyes tight. Her hips bucked. Her already tight pussy clenched and slipped along my shaft, pulling me out longer and twisting my cock like prying the cork out of a bottle. I pressed my face to her neck to keep from exploding.

“Come on, baby. Show me how you like it.” With discipline borne only of professional training and a lot of pain management, I slammed deep into her core. Her hands scrabbled at the seats, my back, the walls but there was nothing to hold on to. No leverage, no defense. A new wave of heat pooled inside her, she was so close.

“FuckMikeholyfuck,” she didn’t even realize she was talking.

“Louder.”

“Mike!” she said at regular volume. I’d heard Emma say my name a million times, but this was more like begging.

“I’m not done,” I hissed into her ear. “You’re gonna come and then I’m gonna roll you and fuck you all over again. Scream my name all you want, I’m not stopping.”

Emma’s eyes focused on my face. Her mouth was open, her soaked pussy taking everything my body could dish out. There had never been a moment in three years I had seen her speechless, so I kissed her as hard and deep as I was nailing her to the seat.

“Then if there’s anything left of you, I’m gonna send you in to Nicky and let him have a ride.”

That did it - I knew an instant before it happened. She rolled her head back, closed her eyes and then Emma came apart in my arms. It rolled through her, lifting me with it. Again and again, her hips twisted and her chest heaved. As promised, I held her down and fucked it right out of her. When her soundless cry finally made real noise, it was my name on her lips.

“Mike.” Barely audible. Perfect.

I really, really wanted to come. All the blood in my body was south of my waist and anything left to spill was halfway out the door already. But Emma was feisty and she’d given me the ride of my life with her mouth. I’d get a month of good nights out of that memory alone. So I kissed her as I slipped from of her swollen gap.

Emma went easily onto her side, then I wrapped an arm around her middle and pulled her to her knees. Her hands smeared the fog on the steamed up window as she arched her back and offered me another round. My cock was throbbed, equal parts pain and pleasure, at the sight of her naked and for the taking.

She breathed out as I pushed inside her for the second time, like she couldn’t believe it really felt that good. Emma was something else for my self esteem. I pushed the hair from her face.

“Look at me,” I said.

And she looked, like she always looked at me, like I was made of chocolate and covered in frosting and somehow still good for her. As I felt her out from this new angle, glowing from the way I’d ripped that orgasm from her body, Emma’s eyes lingered on my chest, my abs, even my face. My right hand held her in place, the other pushed her down till her ass hung in the air like a target.

It was like riding in a brand new sports car, one that went faster and drove more accurately than any before. Everything inch of her felt like the ground racing beneath us. The tiniest flick of her hips a precision curve. I’d talked a good game but two minutes in and I was seeing stars.

“Em, babe....”

“Touch me,” she said. I didn’t need to be asked twice. My hand snaked around her waist, fingers found the button. And I pushed.

“OhGodyessss.”

So I did it again, then slower and lighter and harder and faster and rolled it between my fingers. Emma cursed like a hockey player and ground her ass into my lap. We were both getting very far, very fast. I twisted one hand into her hair and pulled her head back.

“Come with me,” she said.

Thank God.

“Do the rolling thing again. Huuuuhrightthere.”

I followed her instructions and a minute later Emma was whimpering. She knew how to work her own lock and now she was giving me the key. I filed it away to be used every single chance I got from now on.

“OhGodnow,” she sobbed.

The second I felt her break, I let everything go. It wasn’t like hitting a home run, with a big effort and a loud noise. it was like dropping a penny in a fountain - I’d been holding so tight that it all just fell out of me. I pulsed and pumped, draining myself inside her perfection, as Emma wrung herself out on my body. Then we collapsed in a sweaty, sticky pile.

After a minute of panting, I couldn’t help myself. “Guess you’re on Team Jacob, eh?”

Emma rolled toward me. I’d been with a lot of girls I’d never really looked at, not closely. I had looked closely at Emma so many times, but this was a whole new world.

“I don’t know, Mike. Like you said, other people want this....” She wasn’t bragging, or playing. We both knew it was true.

“And what, you want him? Nicky? I know you do. If you meant half of what you ever said to me, then you want him like crazy too.”

Her dark eyes were calm. “I think I just proved that I meant every word.”

Dangerous territory. If I told her not to go, then I would be staking a claim. Emma had given me zero hint as to whether or not she was available for anything more than seeing stars in the back of cars. I could change everything with a word.

But I wouldn’t. Not with the way Nicky looked at her. I wouldn’t take away his dream, I just hoped he was man enough to take it for himself.

“He’s not fun like I am,” I warned her, wiping a damp strand of hair from her face. “He’ll probably cry after.”

“I think Nicky’s full of surprises.” Emma’s smile was sly, like she’d known all along where this would lead. Her fingers traced the tattoo along my collarbone.
____

Emma and Mike were gone a long time. And me alone in the club, shirt wide open and covered in glitter. I might have noticed the people staring, the women approaching, if I hadn’t been so sure they were somewhere together.

And they’re not bobbing for apples.

Mike was always flashy, always attracting attention. That’s why we were such good friends - he wanted it, I didn’t.

The only thing we both desired, besides winning, was Emma. It was a game of sorts, the way we all played. Mike got girls all over town, whenever he pulled up in that douchebag Lamborghini or flashed his stupid tattoo, but it was Emma’s name he said in his sleep on road trips. I never told either of them that. So while I was furious that he was off taking what I wanted, I knew it wasn’t his typical meaningless fuck.

Can’t fault the guy the one time he actually cares about someone.

Fuck, I really am too nice.

But when Emma appeared at my side, I was steamed. I was also a little drunk and frustrated, and the sight of her creamy skin and the curve of her breasts... I imagined I could see infrared, see his handprints and God knows what else all over her.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her away from our friends.

“Where were you?”

Emma blinked once. She always did that when she was censoring herself, which was almost never. You had to know her really well to know when she was thinking about lying.

“Was he good?” I hissed. She looked at my fingers denting her delicate skin. I thought to let go but instead I squeezed harder. Her dark eyes flashed.

“Are you better?” she challenged.

I growled. I would have thrown her over my shoulder if there was room to pick her up. Instead I hauled her in the direction of the front door and blew past the bouncer with the re-entry stamp.

“We’re not coming back,” I told them both.

There was a hotel across the street. I didn’t even look at Emma as I threw my credit card and ID onto the counter. One glance at my expression and the desk agent didn’t say a word. She just punched in letters and spit out a key. I made sure we got into an elevator with people because we couldn’t be alone yet.

Finally in the room, I swung the door shut, bolted it hard and turned to face Emma. Someone else might be alarmed by my obvious aggression, but she looked just a tiny bit excited. My cock twitched in my pants - I had wanted this for a long time.

“Strip,” I told her.

She arched an eyebrow. “You too.”

We watched each other undress. Emma peeled off her shredded tank top and her perfect tits nearly spilled from her bra. Then that was gone too. She slowly shimmied off her jeans, turning so I could see the bare cheeks of her ass. Wherever she’d been with Mike she hadn’t bothered to put her panties back on. I gritted my teeth at the thought, even as I took in the real life sight of the body I’d imagined so many times.

Her eyes burned trails along my skin as I ditched my shirt and unbuttoned my pants. Emma never tried to hide her appreciation of my body - it made me feel sexy, reckless. Desired. I was already half-hard as I stepped out of my boxer briefs.

“Wow,” she said softly. It wasn’t awe in her voice, it was pure desire.

I pushed her toward the bathroom. “Shower.”

Emma twisted the water to warm and stepped right under the spray. The first few drops painted dewy lines over her smooth skin, making first tracks. It was a glass stall and my huge body took up a lot of room. She didn’t say anything, just handed me a wet washcloth and emptied the entire bottle of soap onto it. The rag foamed in my hand.

I started with her legs. Emma put her hands to the glass and playfully swung her ass in the air. Without letting my fingers actually touch her skin, I squatted beside her and scrubbed the washcloth over every inch I could see - her calves, behind her knees. She kept her legs together and her ass bounced temptingly as I washed it. My dick responded with a twang. Emma lifted her arms when I finished her shoulders and moved to face me. I went back to her feet and worked my way up the front, avoiding the space between her hips and thighs. Those perky breasts were each a handful as I lifted and dropped in turn. I cleaned her chest and neck, sliding my arm behind and lifting her hair. When finally I had scrubbed her free of anything outside this room, I looked right down into her eyes and slid the washcloth between her legs.

Emma’s lips parted. She let me run around, my thick fingers obvious beneath the thin fabric. I wanted to rub her raw to make her pure, but that wasn’t Emma. That wasn’t the girl who had me rock hard and on the verge of screaming or crying, I didn’t know which. I would take her any way I could. She watched me thinking, watched me touching her until I dropped the cloth to the floor.

“Nicky,” Emma breathed, no doubt expecting a kiss.

She came right up in my arms, legs wrapping around my waist. The hot water rinsed suds from her body. I didn’t wait for permission, just pushed my throbbing cock right into her pussy.

“I’ll make you forget him.”

I spread my feet to the corners of the opposite wall, pressed Emma to the glass and fucked her as hard as I could. I prayed only that the glass wouldn’t give. Her skin squeaked along the wet surface with every thrust I bottomed out inside her hot core. It was better than I’d dreamed, better than I’d imagined Emma while I fucked my own hand in many a shower like this over the last two years. The soft folds of her body, the depth, the way she cried out when I went too hard and then when I did it again, on purpose, hurting her just a little because it felt so good. She never said a word, only held onto my shoulders and let me have my way with her.

I went a long time. My legs ached from holding and bouncing us. Emma rolled her head back and I put my face to her neck, but still I didn’t kiss her. She took my lead and didn’t try. When I set her feet to the ground she didn’t protest, but she did yelp when I plowed into her tight little snatch from behind. I was so tall she nearly slipped on every stroke. Only my arm around her waist kept her from falling as I rode my entire body weight against the firm round of her ass again and again, grunting with the effort. She reached back and dug her nails into my thigh.

My fingers caught Emma by surprise and she shuddered when I pressed them into her clit. I rubbed furiously, racing my own orgasm, taking each of her tiny cries as a small victory. She was getting close, breath hiccuping from her throat.

“Say it,” I growled.

“Nicky,” she sobbed. “Oh God Nicky.”

I forced her against the glass with a roar. I came harder than ever, searing hot and heaving. Emma screamed as her own orgasm was trapped like her body, unable to roll itself out so all that energy bounced back, doubling itself inside her. She pulled my face down to her neck where I could feel, as well as hear, her moaning. I stroked my spent cock until she was finally still.
____

Blank. My mind was blank. Mike had been a little rough with me in the car - the way I liked it - but it was play-rough, swagger-rough. Nicky had just full-on fucked me; the angry, frustrated kind of sex with a purpose, as punishment. I’d rarely seen him mad. He almost never even got annoyed. He was usually so... nice.

Jesus, that was hot.

He pulled out of me and held on, like he knew I’d drop to the floor without him. It took a minute to regain my senses. Then I turned, his huge chest running beneath my fingers until my hands were on his cheeks.

Nicky leaned down and kissed me so softly it almost didn’t happen at all.

A tear rolled squeezed from the corner of my eye and down the length of his thumb. It must have been hotter than all the other water in the shower because it was the only drop he wiped away. Then he kissed me again, tugging my bottom lip gently and gliding his tongue between. I opened my mouth to him, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me till my toes curled.

When we came up panting, smiling, he handed me the washcloth. I had to use shampoo because the soap was empty, but Nicky let me scrub the glitter off his chest. I took my sweet fucking time, then did his arms, back and his perfect, muscular ass. It was the most I’d ever gotten to look at him, or any guy who used their body for a living, naked.

“You’re perfect, Nicky.”

He smiled, looking back and down over his shoulder where I was scrubbing his lower back.

“You always say that.”

“I always meant it, but now I really know it’s true.”

He took the washcloth and dropped it to the floor. There was nothing left of anyone or anything else between us. Outside the glass door, the entire bathroom was full of fog. He wrapped me in a huge fluffy towel. Then both huge arms bent, thick biceps and chest flexed, as he lifted a towel to dry his hair. Naked in the steamy room, full-flex - I gasped.

Nicky giggled. “If you keep looking at me like that I’m going to get shy again.”

“I like you the way you always are.”

“Tonight I was mad.”

“I know.”

He shook his long hair like a puppy, then set to work drying a massive thigh. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.

“So if I’m not mad anymore, you still like me?”

I pulled the towel away from him and those arms around me. “I’d like to like you all night, Nicky.”

That blush was back, with a half-smile. “Will Mike be mad?”

Bastard wants to make Mike jealous. So much for too nice.

“He will when I can’t walk tomorrow .”

Nicky dragged me into the bedroom and spun me toward the bed, grabbing the towel off me in the process. I landed with an ‘oof!’ and he landed right on top of me. His huge hands pressed my thighs wide apart, then he dipped down between my legs and licked a wide, wet strip from right below my clit to just above it. My body rocked like I’d been electrocuted. Nicky set his growing erection to the spot and rubbed it back and forth along the crease of my body, getting harder by the stroke. His mouth came to mine. As he was kissing my breath away, he tilted his hips and pushed his dick right inside of me.

I cried out against his lips. Nicky shushed me. He was thick and smooth, with perfect rhythm. I lifted my hips up to meet his and he moaned.

“You’re better,” he said in a raspy voice, “that I imagined.”

I bucked harder, causing him to moan again and push his face into my hair, into the blanket. His huge weight felt so good pressing me down but I was the one giving him the most pleasure.

“I knew you’d be incredible,” I told his shoulder.

Without moving harder, Nicky snugged himself in deeper. It was my turn to moan. No urgency or force, he just rolled his hips like he was spinning the dial on a safe, trying to find the combination. Every weakness he exploited, shifting right or pushing down, responding to every one of my tells. Nicky worked methodically until he’d learned enough of my secrets to own me. I was shaking.

“I’m gonna come.”

“Wait for me, baby.”

He ramped up his pace, taking himself to the edge while I fought to keep a grip. Nicky’s soft grunts gave away his effort and he quickly used my body to get himself to that place. As soon as I heard his breathing catch, I stopped trying.

It was different, this orgasm coaxed from my body rather than ripped. It was like a drop of water, spreading outward, making ripples that went on and on. My body trembled beneath Nicky’s, slipping and grasping along his long, hard shaft while my back arched right off the bed. He hovered above me, eyes screwed shut, and jacked his cock quickly for the last few hard, short strokes. Then he burst, his hot release beating itself dry inside me.

Nicky dropped and pulled me into the little spoon against his broad chest. With one hand he drew the far end of the blanket over us like a cocoon. Then that huge, heavy arm trapped me in a half-hug. Nicky cleared my tangled hair from the vampire fang mark on neck and nuzzled his lips to it.

“Bella ends up with Edward,” he said quietly.

“Hmm, she does. Still got that pirate costume?”

He laughed silently, shaking us both. “As you wish.”
_