“That’s it, baby. Yes, right there.”
My hands tunneled under the ridiculous amount of material decorating the ass of my latest conquest. Why women covered their bodies in yards of the stuff, stumped me. Didn’t they realize less was more? Right now, the silky material decorated my prize like a Twinkie—its layers flipped up and over her back, exposing the coveted filling every kid desired from their cake covered treat.
I slid a hand between us and strummed her clit as she ground the heart-shaped ass that attracted me in the first place, against the abs I worked like a mother for in the gym. Finding her panty less made our little tête-à-tête in the maintenance closet of the reception hall much more convenient.
Her breaths burst forth in short pants of ‘oh’s and yeah’s’ with an ‘oh my god’ or three thrown in as I worked her into a frenzy. The pace of my fingers and hips destined to launch her like a rocket in less time than a NASA countdown, if the flutters squeezing me were any indication.
A thud against the door quickened my pace, and I hammered into her, sure to set her off into the stratosphere at any moment.
“I swear to God, Caelum, if you’re locked in this closet…”
I grinned, gave her a little prodding pinch, then covered her moan with my other hand. Liftoff. She clenched around me like a vice, and I gave up the fight immediately after with a satisfied grunt of my own. She jerked then turned her head as my finger slid from her sensitive nub. The evidence of her pleasure glossed my lips as I gave her the shush sign and motioned toward the door. Panic laced her brown eyes as I cocked an ear and kept the finger planted against my lips. A reminder we were on a mission of secrecy. I’m really a Class A bastard when all is said and done.
A rapid-fire bang, bang, bang pounded on the door as the handle jiggled where I locked it a short time ago. Experience taught me to expect the unexpected, and contingency plans were necessary for all aspects of my profession and personal life. Case in point: the jiggling lock and my friend’s exasperated voice on the other side.
“Come with me,” along with moving shadows, slipped under the door. I glanced at the single light swinging from the ceiling, paying homage to the man above who saved my ass from facing the bride and groom at this moment.
I knew that after I gave this sweet treat before me a wink and nod at the altar, I’d be peeling off her wrap of a dress between the reception line and my Best Man’s speech. Yes, I was that kind of an asshole. Ride ‘em hard and put ‘em away wet. In this case, responsibility tugged at my conscience before I dove in. Every single man alive knew weddings brought out the vipers. Their hooked fangs puncturing your freedom and poisoning your future as only a single woman could do.
My father warned me about doing the right thing when my hormones flared and I started dating. I prided myself on the fact that not once did a woman enrapture me so thoroughly that I forgot protection. With a twist of my hips, I slipped from the wedding present to myself and gave her a smack on the ass that had her standing ramrod straight with a startled “Hey.”
A crooked smile decorated my face as I tossed the condom in a trashcan to my left. “We need to get going. I have a speech to give.”
Her gaze followed my work-roughened hands as I tucked my shirt back into the tuxedo pants and zipped up. She wasn’t the only one in the bridal party without panty lines. I found commando a benefit to these situations and made good use of that when I went out on the town. Or, my best friend’s wedding, in this instance.
I grabbed my jacket and shrugged it on as Twinkie girl unrolled her skirt and smoothed the wrinkles.
“Will I see you again?”
Yeah, not so much.
“Of course you will. In about…” I checked my watch and frowned. “…five minutes if we don’t get our asses moving.”
I unlocked the door and gave a swivel of my head both ways. With a mumbled “Thanks,” and no kiss, a rule I lived and died by, I rushed off down the hall toward the ballroom where I knew my best friend waited to rip me a new asshole as he smiled at his new bride. Was it worth it? I straightened my bow tie and slid sticky fingers through my hair in an attempt to mask my rumpled appearance. Hell yeah, it was. Any piece of ass, especially the cream filled morsel from the closet, was worth it. Now, if my buddy asked me if it was meaningful…
That was a question best left unanswered.
****
The reception hall echoed with the chatter of voices and utensils on plates as guests dined on their catered dinner in groups of eight. As I approached the head table, my friend glared and motioned me closer to his chair.
“You are fucking lucky that door was locked.” His hissed enunciation on each individual syllable.
My cocky grin slipped a little as my best friend, Jordan, seethed with frustration at my recklessness. Typical playboy behavior he’d told me before, and I embodied the image. I held a microphone in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, prepared to address the crowd with my ad-libbed speech. He grabbed my jacket and jerked me backward as I leaned in to kiss Bartlett on the cheek.
“This is Bart’s day. Don’t fuck it up, man. I mean it.”
A trickle of regret slid down my spine as the woman of the hour smiled up at me with a giddy glow that only appears with pure happiness.
She and Jordan met in college. One of those love stories that made you gag and thankful you’re single in the same breath. I shivered as I straightened back up and put on my best panty-dropping grin. No way in hellwould that happen to me. True love was for suckers. I didn’t fit into that mold. I liked my freedom.
Feedback squealed over the amplifier as I flipped the microphone on. All eyes focused on me as I straightened my six and a half foot frame. I scanned the audience like the leader I was and scoped out the interested looks guaranteeing me some additional extracurricular activity later that evening. My eyes twinkled as I grinned further into the crowd and cleared my throat.
“Today was a great day…”
****
“Captain. Groupie at your six.”
Our newest engineer frowned and nodded at the doorway as the Twinkie girl from my pre-reception tryst entered the station with a platter of cookies.
“Remind me later to kick Jordan’s ass,” I mumbled and stood from the table where my crew sat for our shift briefing. If this was payback for messing around at Jordan’s wedding, I wanted assurance from my friend the debt was paid. The woman knew Bartlett from her college days, and Jordan graciously gave her my work address when she asked about me. Asshole.
“Hey, Candace.” My crew gave her a small wave from the table as I ground my teeth. The woman stopped by every shift bearing gifts for the last three weeks. Don’t get me wrong, we all loved dessert, but her constant veiled innuendos disrupted our workplace. My chief witnessed her visit last shift with a frown of his own after she grabbed my ass when she thought no one was looking.
“Knock that shit off, Captain. This is neither the time or the place.” He’d taken me aside and laid down the law. Either I get my crap together, or he’d do it for me while I was on administrative leave.
I intercepted her at the doorway and turned her back around and out into the truck bay. “We are in the middle of a meeting, then leaving for training in about ten minutes.”
She leaned close and rubbed her breasts against my chest as she balanced her tray. “I told you to call me Candy."
With a sigh, I pushed her back and shook my head. “Candace, after your antics last shift, I’ve been told you are no longer welcome at the station.” She didn’t need to know I was throwing my chief under the bus. Let him be the bad guy.
“Why?” Her tray slid to the bumper of the engine with a crash as she crossed her arms. “What about us?”
Fuck. This is why I hated wedding hook-ups. Why I chose one and done. Why I didn’t share my phone number or work number. Expectations. Women read into things. Sex meant emotion to them. Sex meant relationship. Neither of those things fit into my single life goals. “Candace, we had sex. That’s it. There is no us.”
I stepped back as she screeched in dismay. “You led me on. You lying piece of shit. How can you say there is no us?”
My hands popped up in the universal sign of ‘Whoa’ as I stepped back another few inches from the rapidly spiraling situation. I never intended to see her again after the wedding. Jordan instigated this confrontation. “Candace, you need to leave. I’m sorry you misinterpreted our hook-up. It was enjoyable, but that’s all it was.”
“You bastard.”
The slap of her hand across my face caught me off guard. I stood in place watching her exit the bay, the tap of her shoes the only other sound besides the snickers of laughter from inside the station. A package of frozen peas landed in my hand as Ethan stood next to me and followed my gaze. My engineer and the new kid to the crew, he had only been on the job for three years. Quite mature for his young age, I expected the sage wisdom he spilled with his next breath.
“Dodged a bullet there, Cap.”
I nodded in agreement, amazed I didn’t pick up on her psychotic stalker nature before now. “Yeah. You got that right.”
“I think you should call Jordan. Before this comes back and bites you in the ass.”
I nodded once more. The last thing I needed was Jordan and Bart calling me out before I gave my side of the story. “Yeah, me too.”
“Glad we had this talk, Cap.”
He clapped me on the back as I stared at the car zooming out of the parking lot in a cloud of burned rubber. I placed the peas against my burning cheek with a frown. A tingle, or perhaps a shiver from the frozen bag on my skin, crawled along my spine and raised the hairs at my nape. Somehow, somewhere, I knew karma smiled and rubbed their hands together in glee. Waiting.
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