Deep In The Heart Of Texas Ch 02

I always loved going out with my girlfriends. There's always a good anticipation, that question about who you'd meet. That particular night, it was just me and Wendy. I'd gotten new skinny jeans with perfectly placed rips in them that would fit beautifully into my boots and a really cute red and black striped shirt. I spent the afternoon pampering myself. I was in such a good mood. Five minutes before I wanted to walk out the door, I piled my very curly hair into a ponytail at the crown of my head, sprayed perfume through my locks and on my neck, and applied glittery pink lip gloss to my mouth. As I stared in the mirror through darkly lined eyes, I shivered. It was going to be a great night.

I pulled into Wendy's driveway and immediately my mood soared higher. Memories of Valentine's Day flooded my head and as I walked to her door, I ran my hand along the body of Nathan's blue truck. Adrenaline pumped through my body as I knocked and then let myself in. Wendy was on the couch and the boys were nowhere to be seen. An odd mixture of relief and disappointment coursed through my veins as Wendy stood up and slipped into her boots.

"What are the guys up to?" I asked on the way out the door. Again I stroked Nate's truck, wishing it was the man himself.

"They went to some bar in Fort Worth," she answered carelessly. "Where are we going?"

"Pete's?" I suggested.

"Done. I'll drive."

My stomach knotted at the thought of Nathan getting home before us; would he react to seeing my car at all?

Of course he wouldn't, I reasoned. If he'd thought about me half as much as I thought about him, I would have heard from him over the past few weeks.

The drive to Addison wasn't short, and we jammed to Bruno Mars the entire way. When we were about to exit, my phone rang. Another girlfriend of mine was at a bar a bit past Pete's and wanted us to come meet her. Wendy was up for anything, and she followed my directions to McFadden's. The scene was incredible, but miraculously we found a parking spot at the front of the lot. Amanda and her boyfriend Steven were waiting for us on the front porch, and we pushed our way through a huge crowd to get to them.

I couldn't help checking out the guys as we waited at the bar. There were a bunch of gorgeous choices, but it seemed each time I saw someone who interested me, they put their arm around a girl. Or, on occasion, around another guy. We got our drinks and Amanda led us to a dartboard. Wendy and I watched Amanda and Steven play the first round. As I sipped my drink, I surveyed the room. And that's when I caught sight of Brandon. I was surprised to see him; last I'd known, he was working security at Sherlock's. But nonetheless, there he was, looking just as hot as he'd done at Sherlock's. He cut his eyes at me once, and the shock I saw only lasted a split second before recognition dawned and he smiled. That's all it had even been about with us: flirting, eye contact, coy smirks. I hadn't even ever spoken to him.

At first I thought, that will change tonight. But then I thought maybe it would be more fun to continue our silent relationship. I bit my lower lip and tried not to smile. I looked up again and once more he flicked his eyes to me. They were always so short, those sizzling glances, but they made my nerves light up. When it was my turn at darts, I threw three precise shots, landing a bulls-eye twice. I grinned triumphantly, and when I turned to look if Brandon had seen, he wasn't there anymore. My breath came short for a second.

A waitress delivered our next round, and we continued playing darts for well over an hour. Amanda kept me well-supplied with drinks, and eventually my bladder couldn't take it anymore. Wendy and I went in search of a bathroom, and I felt Brandon rather than saw him. Without looking at him, I put my hand out as we passed him. His palm grazed mine and it felt like I'd been electrocuted.

The rest of the night, I couldn't stop searching him out. I definitely didn't want to talk to him; the fear that he wouldn't live up to the fantasy was too real. But I didn't want to take my eyes off him. I watched him break up a fight and intense passion heated my entire body.

The warm glow of alcohol combined with unbridled sexual chemistry had me ready to kiss him as we walked out the door. Whether it was a good thing or a bad one, he was nowhere to be found at that last minute. I was wound tightly and extremely hyper on the drive home. Wendy, who didn't drink when she was driving, put on a mix of dance songs, and we bounced in our seats the entire twenty minutes home.

The house was dark when we got back, but neither of us was ready to call it a night. We put on music, made ourselves new drinks, and played pool while we danced. I was flying so high, I didn't know how I'd ever come down. I wanted Nathan to come back so badly, I physically ached. When the door finally opened, it was nearing four. I stayed back from the stairs while Wendy spoke to her husband, my fingers mentally crossed that Nathan had come inside with him and not just gone home. But I only heard Dave's voice. Hoping, I continued to shoot the balls and dance, spinning, tossing my ponytail, pretending to be nonchalant until both guys came upstairs. All Nathan did was smile at me.

Two can play, I thought coyly, and went back to my game.

"Doubles!" Dave said loudly. "Wendy, you're with Nate."

I smiled and gave Dave a high-five. "We got this," I said happily.

The game was uneven: Dave was heads and tails better than all of us, but I made up for it by being heads and tails worse than everyone. I was concentrating on riling Nathan up. When he took a shot, I stood just in his line of sight, a hand on a hip or eyelashes lowered seductively. Wendy and I continued to dance, neither of us really paying much attention to the game. Wendy was working as hard to get her husband's attention as I was at getting Nate's. The only difference was, whether Dave was looking at her or not, he made the shot. When she flashed him, he smiled at her as two stripes fell into opposite pockets.

"You just make me better," he said.

I laughed. After we'd won three games in a row, Dave decided to call it a night. He disappeared into his bedroom and Wendy sat down on a window seat. "This was fun," she said. "I guess I'll go to bed too. Are you gonna spend the night or go home?" she asked me.

I looked at Nathan, who was still shooting at the balls. He didn't react to her question, so I simply shrugged. "I'm good either way," I assured her. So she followed her husband into their bedroom and shut the door.

I sat where she'd just abandoned and watched Nathan shoot. I crossed my legs and propped my chin in my hands, my elbows on my knees, biting my lip in an effort not to smile. It was easy to talk big; being presented with the opportunity to make the first move was much harder. As sure as I was that he was attracted to me, there was still the girlie side of me that wanted the affirmation. Finally I got up and grabbed a stick. "Game?" I asked.

"Rack 'em," he said.

I did, quickly, and then easily broke the balls. I was ecstatic when the purple solid landed in a corner pocket, and I took my next shot gleefully. I knocked in a yellow ball followed quickly by the white. Nathan retrieved the ball and lined up his own shot. I touched him gently on the small of his back, whisper-softly, but it did the trick, and he overshot the white ball entirely. He straightened and looked at me, shook his head, and gestured toward the table. I smirked and sized up my options.

When I felt him approach me, I steeled myself, resolved not to let him mess me up. But when I felt like this, there wasn't much I wouldn't do for this guy. When he took the pool stick from me, I knew I was in for an adventure. Nervous and excited, I glanced across the room. The bedroom door was shut tight, but who knew if they were asleep? Of course that factor made it a bit more interesting, and I leaned over the table with butterflies in my stomach. My jeans pulled across my ass as I pretended to size up a shot... although stick-less, all I could do was eye the balls. When I felt him come up behind me again, I lifted my arms in a mock-shoot. He positioned his body perfectly behind mine, leaned over me, and shot the balls exactly where I'd lined up. Two balls clicked soundly into the pockets and I giggled and straightened my back. The pool stick made no noise as he dropped it to the carpet, and he placed his hands on either side of me, not letting me turn around. My mouth went dry as I felt his own stick pushing into my ass. My panties were immediately wet and I leaned over again slightly, allowing his hips to grind into mine. It had been too long, and it was all I could do to not push him to the floor and fuck him right there. But this slow torture he'd started was too good. Neither of us made a move to remove any clothing; we simply rubbed against each other silently. It was a thrill, doing this with our friends so close. I briefly wondered if they were perhaps doing their own dance behind their closed door. But as he ground into me particularly forcefully, every other thought flew out of my brain and I dropped to my elbows on the table. Bent at nearly ninety degrees, my knees were shaking and my heart was pounding and I wanted him to fuck me like that. I'd never been entered from behind, and there was something so erotic about that. Not being able to see his face, not being able to pre-judge what he'd do... it was incredibly hot.

He put his hands on my hips to draw me further back into him and I used the opportunity to stand up and spin around. I leaned against the table and put my hands on his ass. I straddled him, my legs completely wrapped around his thighs, and pulled him tightly against me. When his crotch was flush with mine, I kissed him, wildly, hungrily. He tasted like salt and cigarettes. His passion matched mine, and soon I was laying back on the table and he'd literally climbed on top of me. He was kneeling over my hips, kissing me just as hungrily as I'd kissed him, and I reached for his dick, suddenly wanting nothing as badly as I wanted to feel him inside me. But he had other ideas, and he bucked when I tried to undo his jeans. I smiled against his mouth and again thought, I'll play with you. Tonight was about games, and it was an enticing idea.

Instead of going for his cock again, I let my fingers linger over my breasts. I traced the pattern of my shirt, back and forth across the stripes and across my torso. Red, black, red, black. When I came to the bottom, I slowly inched the hem up and teased my tummy, circling my belly button. Nathan had stopped kissing me and was watching my finger play with open interest.

"Where do you want me to go?" I whispered, hands at my waistband. When he didn't answer, only flicked his eyes up to mine and smirked, I eased my fingers between the denim and my skin. He shifted his hips to let me have easier access, but I retreated. Instead I pulled my shirt up a little further. "Here?" I asked. I stroked my sternum with my thumb. I watched his Adam's apple bob and I pressed my lips together in pleasure. "Or here?" I massaged one breast with my open palm, pulling my bra down a little and then letting it fall back into place.

As I'd hoped, mere seconds after I began my sensual stroking, he dipped his mouth to my chest. The material of my bra was wet instantly, and his tongue and teeth hardened my nipples. Heat flooded my body and I arched my back, holding back the groan that threatened to erupt from me. "Fuuuuck," I moaned instead, a word exhaled on a breath.

"Don't worry," Nathan whispered into my breasts. "We'll get there."

I felt him growing harder and harder between my legs. Keeping our clothes on heightened the sensation. When the wet bra began to rub my skin wrong, I unhooked it to give him full access, but I kept my shirt on, scrunched up around my shoulders. I felt like a teenager making out in her parents' garage. Laying on a pool table with a horny man above me made me throb with desire, but I resisted the urge to go quickly. It was decadent agony.

He moved from my breasts to my neck and I bent my head back, my elbows going weak as I plunged my hands into his hair. He was so goddamn good at this. My mouth was dry and I swallowed heavily, trying to prepare myself for what I knew was to come. I just wanted to taste him.

When I couldn't take much more, I reached for his ass. This time he didn't resist me, and I pulled him close against me, feeling his cock press hard into my crotch, denim against denim. He started to rock, back and forth, up and down, slowly, so slowly, and I matched his rhythm. I opened my legs wide and then wider still. I drew my knees up and let him hump me until I thought I'd burst, and then I reached once more for his fly. It was hard to unzip, he was so hard, but I finally got him loose. He was wearing blue boxers, and I teased myself a little longer by not reaching inside them. Instead I unzipped my own jeans and v-ed them open to reveal my pretty pink panties. He positioned his cock, hot and hard, against my already wet pussy and grinded into me again. This time the scream was involuntary, and I clapped a hand over my mouth as he grinned.

"Shh," he breathed into my ear. "We don't want to get caught, do we?"

I closed my eyes and melted into the felt. Did we? Wasn't that part of the fun?

He continued his sweet grinding as I squirmed, and just on the edge of oblivion, I pulled myself back. I sat up slowly, and he sat up with me, and I reached between his legs and cupped his dick. He bit his lower lip and awkwardly stood up, his jeans hindering every move. Once he'd planted his feet, he kicked them aside and stood there in his boxers that were also standing up. I followed suit, but I didn't kick my pants off. I did cast my shirt aside, but when I knelt in front of him, I didn't want rug burn. I pulled his dick through his fly and licked the tip. His dick jumped, and I looked up at him. He was smiling, cockily, like he'd won something, and I casually stroked my breasts until the smile left his face. His hands took up where mine were, and when he was softly fondling my nipples, I sucked his dick like it was my right. I loved this part. I could take him in without gagging, deep-throating like a champ. It was fun, making him feel so good. I knew from the different speed of his hands how close he was. When he stopped entirely, I went faster, sucking quickly and hard until he blew in my mouth. I covertly wiped the cum away as he recovered, and then I got off my knees.

"Yum," I said coyly, and then I disappeared into the bathroom.

I was bent over the sink, washing the stickiness off my cheeks, when he joined me. He'd discarded his shirt, but he was still wearing his boxers. They looked a little damp, but they weren't pulling so tightly. When he slid his hands down my pants, I wriggled, and the denim slipped right off. He turned me to face him, patted the counter, and when I jumped up, put his mouth to my thigh. It was a new viewpoint, getting to watch him, and each time his tongue neared my sweet spot, I jumped. Again the material added such a thrill. When he poked his tongue at a tiny hole in the lace, I shivered. Using nothing but his mouth, he tore at the hole until it was big enough to completely fit his tongue through. I opened wider to let him lick deeper, and he did. I came instantly, so close I'd been on the pool table.

"Yum," he echoed back to me when he'd finished.

My mouth dry, all I could do was rasp, "Shower."

He looked surprised, but he let me slide off the counter and on jiggly legs go turn on the water. I slipped out of my now ruined panties and turned to him. I kissed him once on the mouth, slid my hands into his waistband, and seductively pulled his boxers off while kissing down his chest. When he was naked, I kissed his dick once more and licked him from balls to head. The bathroom had begun to fill with steam, so I stepped into the shower. Without coaxing, he followed, and immediately had me up against the wall, kissing me under the water.

Instantly I couldn't breathe, and if I had thought I couldn't get more turned on, I'd been wrong. I felt like every cell in my body was on fire. It was so good, I didn't think I could handle it. I was so hungry for him. His tongue was on mine, then on my neck, then on my ear. I copied his every move, and then grabbed his hips and was happy to find him hard again. I guided him inside me without thinking, and let me tell you, shower sex is literally and figuratively the hottest sex ever. The intensity was only heightened by my need not to yelp. I smiled against his mouth, remembering how loud we'd been on Valentine's Day, amused that most of the time we hooked up, we had to be quiet.

As he drove deeper, I resolved to be unrestrained next time, no matter where we might be. This was too good not to share.