I whimper, like seriously whimper as his words melted against the back of my neck. The heat he causes travels the length of my body, exploding in my core.

  “Good, now bring me that sweet ass of yours,” he says, grabbing my hips closer toward his hardness. I am on all fours, and he is on his knees behind me, rocking my hips into his groin.

  He runs his hand down my wetness and growls at the contact. I am a blubbering, hot mess and can’t contain the effect he is having on my body any longer.

  He then runs a hand up my back, grabbing a fistful of hair in the process, and wrapping it around his wrist.

  “Ready?”

  Boy was I ever.

  He rubs his brick hard erection across my pussy, then grabs something off the nightstand. When did he even put the condoms there?

  In my crazed sex induced state-of-mind, I hadn’t even noticed the condoms tossed onto my nightstand. I hear the wrapper ripping and steady my body to wait for the pleasure I know was coming.

  Once he puts on the condom, he pushes the tip of his dick into my throbbing wet pussy. The feeling is unlike anything I could ever put into words. Tears stung my eyes, as I bit my bottom lip tasting the blood.

  He pushes his way deeper inside me, and I let out a wail. A wail, unlike anything I’d ever done before in bed. It was primal. It was honest. His dick is so big that it almost struggles to move in and out of me.

  Cesar makes noises too. He groans and moans as he slides himself further inside me. “Fuck, you feel better than I thought you would.”

  Was that a compliment? I guess I’ll take it as one, as I push my ass further into his chest. He is controlling our rhythm with every thrust of his hips, and I am enjoying every second of it as he hits the perfect spot deep within me.

  I feel myself begin to shudder as my legs give out. I am lying face down on the bed, but Cesar doesn’t give up the passion-ridden fuck fest he is having with my body.

  I have to see his eyes. Is he wearing the same bored expression he has when he fucks the girl in the break room or is he enjoying this?

  I try to turn around, but his hold onto my body is too great. I finally wiggle enough, and he slides out of me.

  “Are you okay?” he asks with confusion all over his face. “What’s wrong?”

  I push him down onto the bed without saying a word. I climb on top of his chest and straddle his dick. With one swift movement, I sit down on his length as he lets out a low, deep hiss. His head falls back against the pillows and his eyes squeeze shut.

  “Fuck,” he growls deeply. “That’s right, Jay. Ride this big fat dick to orgasm number three.”

  Chapter Ten

  With careful precision I ride and rock Cesar’s amazing dick, picking up speed, while I hold on tightly to his shoulders. After a moment his eyes flash open and his eyes lock onto mine, as he grabs tightly at my hips. He sits up to take one of my breasts into his mouth. He sucks along my nipple and I leaned my body forward and my head back, pushing my breast further into his mouth.

  I have to admit it. Fucking Cesar has got to be the greatest sex I’ve ever had, and I definitely don’t want it to end anytime soon.

  His head falls back to the pillows, and his eyes catch mine again. The intensity of his gaze shakes me to my core, and I cannot turn away, even though I feel vulnerable and exposed as he stares at me, piercing into my soul.

  “You feel so fucking good,” His eyes wander over my body briefly until they came back to meet mine. “Do you feel it, Jay?”

  Hell yeah, I feel it. My next orgasm, the third orgasm I knew he would give me tonight, is barreling towards me like a freight train. Let’s face it, the man is a sex god. I can’t fight one more orgasm, I might as well embrace it.

  So, I rock harder, lifting my ass just a little to slam back down onto him. He hisses, growls, and even cries out a little as his body plunges deeper into mine. He reaches his hand up to cup my cheek and that one romantic gesture makes my heart thump.

  Shit, don’t fall for him, Janelle.

  Remember what this is.

  A one-time thing.

  Cesar pulls me down to meet his mouth, running his tongue along my lower lip, and as soon as our lips make contact, my body comes crashing down all around him. My body shakes as I release and he wraps his arms tight around me, riding the waves of his orgasm with me.

  I can’t really think straight as my mind, body, and soul recover from what just happened between us. Orgasm number three was a motherfucker. I don’t know if I can take another one. If I hold out and don’t come again, then he will leave, and we will never speak of this again. But, if he gives me just one more, then that would mean he would be staying here with me for a month.

  And that shit can’t happen.

  I crawl off the bed, legs wobbly as I go into the bathroom to escape his crazy hard stare for a moment.

  When I walk back into the bedroom, he is already getting dressed. His jeans are unzipped, and he is putting on his t-shirt with a frenzied look.

  “Where are you going?” I ask.

  “I’m starving, and since I have all night to have my way with you, I figure we could take a break, eat…then fuck some more.”

  “Oh, now who’s planning the night out? Should I get my notebook?”

  I find my yoga pants and slip them up my legs, grabbing my white t-shirt and throwing it over my head. We head into the kitchen as he wraps his arms around me.

  “If you’d like to take notes on how good I fuck, then by all means, go ahead.”

  “Meh, you were okay. I mean I’ve definitely had better,” I flat out lied to him.

  His eyes twinkle against the moonlight coming in through the kitchen window just before he flips on the light.

  “Admit it, I’m the best you’ve ever had. That last orgasm almost brought you to tears or was it the one before that?”

  I cough, trying not to laugh so hard. I mean well, he is the best I’ve ever had, but arrogant much?

  I blow out a breath as I smile. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s okay. You’ll get better, you just need more practice.”

  He stalks closer to me, lifting my chin with his finger to meet his eyes. “Sweetheart, I’ve had plenty of practice.”

  My playful mood deflates for a moment. I didn’t want to be reminded of the many conquests he’s had over his lifetime. I’ve heard all about them at the club

  “Don’t remind me.” I pull my head out of his grasp and turn toward the fridge.

  “Want a confession?” he asks as he stands behind me, chest pressed to my back, hand running up and down my neck, mouth so close to my ear I am getting dizzy.

  “Uh-huh,” I mumble.

  “You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

  Well the mood is gone now, spine is no longer tingling with desire, and I turn around. With both hands, I push him away.

  “God, what an awful thing to say.”

  “What?” he asks, laughing.

  I just scowl in his direction as I cross my arms over my chest.

  “Well, I think the night is over. Three orgasms are not enough to stay here.”

  Like a flash of lightning, he has his arms wrapped around my waist, lifting my feet off the ground. My back slammed into the fridge, as my legs instinctively wrapped around him trying to grip onto him, so I won’t fall.

  His lips crashed to mine, fervently, violently almost. His tongue intrudes into my mouth as my thoughts flurry all around me. My sex is throbbing at his actions, yet I think I am still pissed at him. Wasn’t I? I’m confused. He has me in a tailspin and I am trying desperately to remember what the fuck we were talking about before he lifted me up.

  He moves my body to the counter and sits me down. He pulls back and since his lips are extremely close to mine, I can almost breathe the words he speaks to me.

  “I just said you were the best fuck of my life, tell me I’m the best fuck of yours.”

  Does he need me to say it? Isn’t it obvious? He is the best fuck of my life, but maybe I’m angry because I want him to feel what I am feeling. I don’t want to be just his best fuck, I wanted more. But, wait, no I don’t. Do I? Or is it I just don’t like the way he is talking to me. It’s cheapening the whole thing. Like I’m the woman in the bar. Easy, casual, temporary. Like I’m some random fuck. Although let’s face it….that is what we had agreed on, right?

  “Cesar, I…”

  He brings his lips to mine, kissing the words out of my mouth. He breaks the kiss again and stares at me.

  “You’re not just some random woman I fucked tonight if that’s what’s rattling around that pretty little head of yours. I kind of think you’re more than that.”

  Wow, his admission takes me by surprise, although if a hot man is standing in your kitchen telling you that you are the best fuck of his life, you’d be squeeing for joy. Yet, what he said just now was so much better, and I didn’t know what any of it meant.

  Maybe that’s the problem with women, we think too much. We need to know what the root meaning is behind what every man says. I should just live in the moment like I said I would do.

  Like Cesar does.

  I try to speak for a moment as I sit tongue-tied. My mind doesn’t know how to respond in a thoughtful or rational way, but there is a vulnerability in his eyes that I feel the need to address.

  I grab his shoulders and smile.

  “Okay, try one more time. Maybe you’ll be the best after that.”

  He smiles wide and stands me up. His eyes watch hungrily as I lower my yoga pants to the floor. As soon as they are off, he props me back up on the kitchen counter.

  “Oh, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t walk straight for days,” he says, unzipping his zipper.

  “That’s a mighty big promise, soldier.”

  The moment the words left my mouth his eyes twitched, and he stilled for half a heartbeat.

  “Did I say something wrong?” I ask.

  In another half-beat, he was back to running his enlarged bare dick over my throbbing pussy.

  “I have your big promise right here, darlin’.” He smiles up at me.

  “Wait, we need a condom.”

  “I always have these fuckers around.” He reaches into his jean’s back pocket and produces a foiled wrapper which encased a condom.

  “Always prepared.” I laugh.

  “Like a fucking boy scout. Now I need to feel that pussy again.”

  He grips my hips on the counter and slams into me, and when it was over I was catching my breath from my fourth orgasm of the evening, and Cesar’s confident attitude was back.

  My body is spent; I want to sleep and I wanted to eat. We never did eat after the tirade in the kitchen. I open the fridge as Cesar pulls his jeans up over his body. I am standing stark naked in front of the cold opened fridge as I glance over my shoulder to him.

  “Modest much?”

  “You never know.”

  His strange answer perplexes me for a second, but I think nothing of it. I smile and turn my attention back on the refrigerator.

  We decide on making turkey sandwiches as we snuggle on the couch to watch t.v. It was weird having him beside me, and I almost felt odd, but his body was wrapped around me the moment we cleaned our plates from the food we devoured–and that felt good.

  Cesar falls asleep on my chest, and I don’t want to wake him. So, I sneak out from underneath him and make my way to the bedroom.

  Pulling the pillows up to the top of the bed, I grab the covers from the floor and sink into the bed for a good night’s sleep, or what was left of the night.

  I can’t get Cesar’s intense gaze as we had sex on my bed out of my mind. The look of pure heated desire is one I will never forget. No one has ever looked at me like that. It was indeed the best fuck of my life, and as I try to squeeze my eyes shut, I fall asleep replaying how amazing tonight was for me.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning, I expected to wake up and find Cesar in my living room passed out on the couch. Nope, no such luck. He was gone, once again like a thief in the night, but this time taking with him a piece of my heart.

  The deal between us was that he’d give me over four orgasms and he could stay with me for a month, but I’d only had four. So, while I am feeling a little high that I am even capable of having four orgasms, I almost felt depressed he is gone. Maybe depression isn’t the right term, but there is a sadness I feel. A disappointment.

  I continue throughout my morning cleaning the apartment and watching a little t.v after showering the sex-induced sweat off my body. Just before noon, there is a knock on my door.

  Answering it, I see a freshly showered Cesar standing there with a huge smile. He has two large duffles in his hands and looks yummy enough to eat.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I’m moving in for the month, remember?”

  I stop him from entering and shake my head, eyes wide. “No, the deal was five orgasms. I only had four, sorry.”

  I giggle slightly as he pushes his way inside.

  “No, actually the deal was I could make you come four or more times in one night and I stay here for a month.”

  What was he jabbering on about? I almost wished I had a stenographer handy, as I remember him saying five.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “I know so.” And he walks in like he owns the place and sets his bags down.

  I shut the door, unsure of what to do, and am starting to feel like this guy was certifiably crazy. Of course, I want to have sex with him again, who wouldn’t…but I need to keep some healthy boundaries in place.

  “Was the bet real to you?”

  He mutters something slightly incoherent to himself.

  “Cesar?”

  “Yeah, Jay.”

  “Are you listening to me?”

  “Of course the bet was real. All that work I put in last night wasn’t for nothing.”

  “Jerk!”

  I push his chest with my hands. I keep forgetting that does nothing. It’s like trying to push a brick wall.

  “Listen, I don’t want to be this way anymore. I don’t want to have sex with random girls, so I need somewhere to stay to get my shit together and figured this was my best option.”

  He moves over to the couch and sits his sexy ass down as I follow after him.

  “What about Mark?”

  “Nah, I like it here more. There’s food and good pussy.”

  “You’re crazy.” I shake my head at him and he laughs. A full, deep belly laugh which in turn makes me crack up.

  So, we watch a little television, nothing too serious, and then I make some lunch for the two of us. I was nervous at first about what would be expected of me. I mean did he want sex again? I wasn’t too sure, but after a while it became all too comfortable.

  My phone dinged in the middle of a film I found to watch on Netflix, so I walk into the kitchen to check my phone and see a missed text from Grant. I blow out a breath, a loud one, like loud enough for Cesar to hear and he turns his head.

  “Everything okay in there?” he asks.

  “Yeah.” I glance at the text again and read it over again.

  Can I come over tonight? It’s been a while.

  Usually, I initiated our meetups. Isn’t it funny how you can be totally alone, no men in your life and then all of sudden you have too many? Okay, two isn’t too many to count, but it was so unlike me. I guess when it rains it pours.

  I decide to ignore the message hoping Grant will get the hint and go back into the living room with Cesar.

  “You on the schedule tonight?” he asks about my work at the club.

  “No are you?”

  “Nope. Guess we can hang tonight.”

  “Cool.”

  Cesar doesn’t allow too much room between us when we watch TV. In fact, he slides me under his arm and holds me there. We watch movies well into the night, and after a while, I grow tired.

  “I’m sleepy. I’m going to head to bed,” I say. “I’ll grab you some bedding for the couch.”

  “I can get it. Come here.”

  Cesar pulls me in for a toe-curling kiss. The kiss was hot and sensual. The kind of kiss that passionate lovers share. Not casual hookup buddies. But when he pulls back from it, it almost appears as if he is afraid. So I don’t question it and just say ‘Goodnight’ and walk to my room.

  Oh, I still haven’t asked him anything about why he said my name when he was having sex with that hooker. Okay, she wasn’t a hooker, but I mean she looked and acted like one, except for the whole taking money thing. Whatever, in my mind she was trash.

  Tossing and fighting with my covers like they were the hooker, I finally fall asleep.

  * * *

  When I awake in the morning, Cesar is gone…again. And, for the next three days every morning when I woke up he was nowhere to be found.

  When he would come back, he was always a little distant.

  “Hey,” I say when he returns from wherever he goes in the mornings.

  “Hey, yourself. Do you work tonight?”

  “Yeah, you?”

  “Yep,” he said.

  “Can I ask you where you went this morning?” And every morning.

  His sexy eyes meet mine, and he laughs. Anytime I ask him something uncomfortable, he laughs it off.

  “I went home.”

  He walks into the kitchen where I am enjoying some shredded oats cereal and takes a seat on a stool next to me and my stomach drops.

  “Cesar, please don’t tell me you’re married.” This was it. The only explanation. He had a family he was neglecting.

  “No, not married.” He gives me a funny look. “I went home to water my plants.”

  Seriously? Who does this? And, most importantly why weren’t we having sex anymore?

  We had the one night, and I wanted him more and more, but he never made a move on me. All we do is watch old action movies. I glance down to my shredded oats cereal and drop my spoon in the bowl.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

 

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