#Step and Repeat in Miami Beach

[violetmuses]

Tandem - Multifandom Crossover ❤️‍🩹

Title: Tandem - Multifandom Crossover ❤️‍🩹

Fandoms: “Rebel Ridge” + “Bad Boys” 

Characters: Terry Richmond + Armando Aretas

Love Interest: Female Reader 

Main Storyline: When Terry Richmond arrives in Miami, who knows what could happen next?

Tandem Masterlist

@peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda @amethyst-loves-bucky @planetblaque @sweettea-and-honeybutter @lovedlover @xjjawsomex @readingisahobby @kindofaintrovert @nelo0wesker @gg-trini @cloveroctobers @maliagurl @nobodygetsza @twinklestarslight @yassbishimvintage @sweetiepie4190 @persethegawd @mangoes03 🏷

=====

2024

Relocating to Miami, veteran Terry Richmond wanted to start life all over again after escaping the rural and dangerous town of Shelby Springs. 

Upon entry, the new apartment offered more than enough space. Justice grounded some peace, but even with his cousin avenged, time still burned. 

After taking this much-needed shower to clear emotions, Richmond dumped the weathered backpack and organized his very few items. 

Learning the brand-new area, Terry signaled that elevator and chimed down. Modern decor prolonged this lobby as sunlight illuminated. 

Just before Richmond headed outside, one different man entered the building. 

Detective Mike Lowrey of the Miami Police Department would introduce himself to staff members. 

“Someone will move here, but we'll handle everything.” Lowrey took charge. 

Red and blue overcasts crossed that Florida skyline. Even sirens wailed. 

What the hell? Terry thought. 

Just when Richmond planned to ask questions, the entrance opened. 

Officials escorted this handcuffed man right into the complex and Richmond's nerves heightened with each passing moment. 

“Yo, what's going on? You good, man?” Terry almost gritted his teeth. 

This guy named Armando Aretas wouldn't respond at first. 

Wearing this Bud Light shirt, Aretas chose one trucker hat that veiled his brown eyes. Jeans covered both legs and boots stepped along. 

“It's fine, we got it.” Lowrey noticed Richmond's concern and tried to settle this problem down. 

“What in the world?” Several people offered questions as well. 

Yet when police unfastened Armando's handcuffs, voices shared relief in all directions. 

“Come with us.” Lowrey gestured to Richmond and led Aretas near the elevator. 

“Yes, Sir.” No matter what, Terry offered respect as all three individuals moved upstairs. 

________

“It's a long story, but Armando is my son.” Lowrey stood in the hall with Richmond once Aretas settled his own apartment. 

“Why bring out that police motorcade?” Terry squinted. 

“Like I said, it's a long story. Just know that he works for the department now.” Lowrey explained. 

“Aight.” Terry cleared his throat. “If he's not in trouble, I'll feel better honestly. Thank you.” 

“You're welcome.” Detective Lowrey excused himself from Richmond and returned to Armando's space.

Time would explain what happens now. 

*****

Armando woke up as sunlight greeted the bedroom windows. Gaining this furnished apartment, he organized essentials yesterday. 

Packing his new laptop bag, Aretas left to “explore.” 

Reaching the hallway, Armando pinged this elevator and noticed that someone joined. 

“Terry.” Richmond ended up clipping his name first. 

“Armando.” Aretas wouldn't make eye contact, but followed Terry's lead with introductions. 

“You good?” Terry repeated his genuine question from yesterday. 

“Yeah. Thanks.” Armando accepted Terry's kindness. 

Heading outside, both men walked in silence as vibrant lanes of South Beach lined up. 

Cheerful voices beamed and upbeat music played out loud from vehicles while Terry acknowledged surroundings. 

“Found a coffee shop.” Richmond pointed near one storefront and welcomed Armando past its threshold. 

“Good catch.” Aretas moved. 

_____

“Morning. Could I have some black coffee and a muffin, please?” This muscular man stepped toward the counter and greeted you. His bright eyes nearly prompted your heart to rattle. 

“Got it. Anything else?” You grinned while counting his order. 

“No, Ma'am.” Terry almost smiled not long after paying up.  

“Can I have a name for the order?” You set out markers. 

“Terry.” Richmond quickly stated his own first name

“Thank you. Just wait for a second.” You prepared everything. 

Stepping out of the line, Terry gave room for  different customers, but noticed Armando using his laptop from this window seat. 

“You want something?” Terry leaned inward this time around. 

“I'll get up in a second. Appreciate it.” Aretas noticed Richmond's words again. 

“Terry?”  As expected, you called Richmond's name. 

“Be right back.” Terry reached the main counter again. 

“Here you go.” You handed out his order and smiled once more. 

“Thank you.” Terry almost grinned before sitting back down. 

______

Armando stepped up next and Terry observed everything. 

Once you rang more items and called Aretas, Armando gathered his regular coffee and took one scone, not even messing up his device. 

“Not bad.” Aretas said. “I'll have to leave soon, but thanks for helping.” 

“No problem.” Terry nodded, but looked elsewhere as this Porsche rolled near the curb. 

“Gotta go.” Taking coffee, Armando stepped outdoors and joined the passenger seat of Mike Lowrey's classic ride. 

______

Staying behind at the coffee shop, Terry observed how you handled customers and clocked out that afternoon, leaving this place just in time for lunch. 

“Excuse me?” Richmond stood from that window seat and questioned you. 

“Yes?” You welcomed him outside as this bench waited near the storefront. 

“I'm new here, so thank you for the coffee.”  Terry stepped forward and shook hands.

“Of course.” You smiled. 

“Something happened at my apartment complex yesterday. This guy moved in, but officers showed up and…” Richmond trailed off when you cleared your throat. 

“Armando Aretas…” You nearly whispered. “The police are quiet for different reasons now, but look up his name whenever you can. Most of that information is public.” 

“I will. Thank you.” Terry stood and began to walk away, but you spoke up once more. 

“See you tomorrow?” You wanted to know if Terry would come back. 

“Yeah, I don't mind. Take care.” Terry nodded and bid farewell, leaving your side. 

******

Buying his own laptop, Richmond planned to learn information. 

Nothing could've prepared him for upcoming details, though. 

What the fuck?! 

Realization tunneled this search. Soon enough, Terry's heart raced and dropped all at once. 

Aretas launched havoc on several counts and attacked officials from the Miami precinct four years ago. 

Richmond even found one vital news report from the large-scale case: 

“Famed Miami Detective Mike Lowrey was shot one evening. The video quickly surfaced online and went viral in a matter of hours. Footage first appeared on the darknet and soon spread to mainstream social media platforms. Authorities believed that the shooter uploaded this video himself.”

Damn! Terry slammed his laptop, fed up beyond words. 

No matter what, Armando's crimes remained true with permanent ink. 

*****

Another morning brightened, yet Terry's mind clouded again. 

When Armando's main door opened, Richmond almost flinched while unarmed. 

“Hey, hey, Woah! You good, T?” Armando lifted his empty hands. 

“The barista warned me and I did some research last night. Y'all left out too much.” Richmond turned frustrated without yelling. “Nobody told me about your case.”

“Dammit!” Aretas paced back and forth, quietly upset. “I can explain what happened, all right?”

“Go ahead.” Terry arched his brow. “I got plenty of time on my hands.”

_______

Sitting with Terry in private, Armando started talking first. 

“After leaving the military, I joined the family cartel. My mother planned everything and hoped that I wouldn't spare Lowrey.” Aretas grounded his truth. 

“What happened to your mother?” Terry settled the question. 

She's dead.“ Armando never hesitated with that phrase. 

“Damn, man.” Richmond attempted. “The case is harsh, but I'm sorry.”

“Honestly, there was nothing good about our situation.” Armando declined. “She lied to so many people.” 

“You learned the truth now, right?” Richmond attempted. 

“Yeah, but you know what? I really don't wanna talk about this anymore.”  Mentally exhausted, Aretas stopped debating and glanced toward his new watch.

“Fair enough. You're right, so let's get out of here.” Apologizing, Terry stood from the bench and followed Armando to this new spot. 

*****

“Hi, Terry. Good morning.” You've smiled and already learned his order as Richmond faced the register. 

“Morning. Thank you for giving the update with Armando. We've talked.” Richmond quietly acknowledged how he checked details last night. 

“Of course. We can't risk more issues if people haven't learned that case because Armando just got back.” You nearly whispered the response like code 

“You know a lot about this one.” Terry glanced around. 

“I used to work as an informant.” Still facing Terry now, you offered black coffee and handed over this muffin again. 

Wow. Richmond noted. 

_____

“Hey.” Slightly accented English rasped near your direction when Armando stepped forward. 

“I'm not a snitch.” There's no joyful greeting this time around. “We've lost too many people and I just want everyone else to be safe.” 

“I know.” Aretas completely understood your point. 

“Listen, I'm not afraid.” You arched one brow while ringing up his regular coffee with another scone. 

“I searched your name, too. Why give up the police department for a coffee shop?” Aretas moved ten steps ahead and had learned all about your skills. 

“You.” Your genuinely pleasant voice darkened for the first time. “Once the case guaranteed prison, I quit.”

“Thought you weren't scared?” Armando slyly chuckled and departed the line, waiting for his order. 

____

“Armando?” When you called his name, the area nearly silenced and almost everyone held their breath. Even Terry closed one fist to veil his mouth. 

“Ooh!” Everyone observed as you traded the items. Within seconds, Armando stepped back and didn't face drama. 

When Aretas sat back down, Terry almost smirked. 

“Why the face?” Armando clipped. 

“She hasn't kicked you out.” Richmond pointed near the register as you kept working. 

“Whatever.” Aretas casted both eyes toward that ceiling. 

______

Armando exited that local coffee shop as Mike Lowrey's classic Porsche rolled out again. Before long,  Richmond sat with privacy this time. 

When you began to leave for lunch once more, Terry still noticed your presence. 

“Don't worry.” Terry laughed and opened the front door for you. ‘I'm not hard-headed like Armando.” 

“Very funny.” You walked toward Florida sunlight and joined the storefront bench as usual. “Any plans today?”

“No, Ma'am. Still figuring out my apartment complex.” Richmond glanced toward you. 

“You'll learn.” Now, your gentle voice encouraged him. “Living somewhere new is a process.”

“I understand.” Terry nodded. 

“Oh, shit! Sorry, but I gotta go.” Your phone buzzed seconds later. 

“No problem. See you.” Saying goodbye, Terry watched you almost jog around the block for some odd reason. 

What now? Richmond thought. 

*****

Once you entered this restaurant, confetti popped upwards. 

“Happy birthday!” Members of the AMMO squad cheered after standing from this large table. 

“I thought you needed something! This is my lunch break.” You hugged weapons expert Kelly and tech genius Dorn laughed for a moment. 

“We've already cleared the schedule with your manager.” Captain Rita Secada welcomed your spot from that table. “Take this weekend off.”

“Thank you, Rita. Everything looks great!” You smiled toward the platters and would share each meal with friends. 

Just before indulging, you realized that Detective Marcus Burnett, Mike Lowrey's longtime partner and best friend, peeked around one corner. 

“Where's my niece? Happy birthday, girl!” Marcus shuffled footsteps into the private room. 

“Thank you, Marcus!” You opened both arms to hug Burnett and still observed his recovered heart. 

Not long ago, Marcus collapsed during Mike Lowrey's wedding. 

Lowrey fell in love with Christine, an experienced physical therapist. She also help .ed Mike heal with his shooting recovery that took place years back. 

“Doesn't matter if you've left the team. You're still important, Rook.” Marcus shortened one of your nicknames. 

“I appreciate it. How's everyone?” You acknowledged Burnett's family. 

“Everybody's fine. Megan just gave birth to a baby girl.” Smiling, Marcus counted his second grandchild. 

“Aw! Congratulations, Grandpa.” You laughed while messing with Marcus. Even Kelly almost giggled. 

“Pop-Pop.” Marcus corrected the title and arched his brow toward you. 

“You're still old!” You joked right back and everyone cackled. 

_______

“Happy birthday to you!” Servers pushed the cake forward as everyone sang along. 

Grateful, you blew out candles and prepared your sweet tooth, sitting beside Kelly and Rita. 

“Oh, damn! You cut the cake already?” Detective Mike Lowrey showed up with his wife Christine. 

“Might bring this party to the house, Rook. Now we're crammed in here!” Marcus chuckled. 

“Stop it, Marcus! Let's get some cake and go from there.” Mike jokes with his best friend. 

Even you hugged Christine, sharing dessert with everyone as sunset arrived. 

There was no better feeling here. 

******

Armando returned to this apartment and showered after trading used car keys from Mike at the precinct. 

Lowrey had just picked up his wife Christine to celebrate your birthday elsewhere. 

“Going back home with everybody if you wanna visit.” Mike called. “We can't stay at this restaurant all night.” 

“I don't think she likes me.” Aretas knew better than to interrupt your surprise. 

“Even you and I need to work on things, but I'm trying all right?” Lowrey still attempted. “Come over. It'd be good.” 

“I know. See you later.” Armando hung up, prepared to deal with the occasion. 

****

“Don't argue tonight.” Marcus warned both  you and Armando. 

“Hey, be careful. Now you're instigating.” Lowrey cautioned Burnett. 

“Hold up, I brought wine.” Settling down Mike and Marcus, Aretas carefully held two bottles. 

“Thank you.” Mike welcomed Armando inside and you found Christine again, heading to the backyard. 

______

“Still mad at me?” Armando offered the question while sharing cake with you. 

“No.” You shook your head. “Only cautious.”

“That's fair.” Aretas nodded in return as music played. 

“In all seriousness, how are you doing?” You wanted to help Armando regardless. 

“Better. Things are pretty quiet.” Aretas offered his vague response. 

“Started messing with Terry yet?” You laughed about one regular from the coffee shop. Terry Richmond even became Armando's neighbor.

“No, but can I ask you something?” Aretas leaned back in his chair. 

“Yeah?” You silently waited for Armando's next move. 

“You want him?” Armando clipped the unexpected idea. 

“What are you talking about?” You squinted. “We just met.” 

“Y'all smile almost every day now.” Aretas pulled his observations with Terry. Even coffee transactions looked more joyful. 

“It's none of your business, but you sound jealous.” You nearly laughed. 

“C'mere.” Throwing out trash for both of you, Armando started flirting. 

“Yes?” You stand from the table and trailed Aretas, intrigued. 

“Stop ignoring me.” His slightly accented English nearly whispered to reveal this truth. “It actually hurts my feelings.”

“Did I hurt your feelings or bruise that ego?” You corrected his phrase this time. “Get it together, okay? You're not the big bad wolf anymore.” 

Taking your words, Armando became outright silent as you walked away and started dancing with everyone else that night. 

*****

The next morning, you wake up after somehow choosing this living room floor. 

In some corner, this air mattress waited nearby and even one of Armando's wine bottles looked empty. 

What happened last night? Your now pounding mind buzzed questions. 

When Kelly emerged from the kitchen, you took random sunglasses to dodge brightness. 

“Where's everybody?” You stood up and joined K, greeted by many choices to eat. 

“Mike and Christine are running errands, Rita left, and Dorn took my car to the auto shop.” Kelly pinpointed almost everyone. 

Before you'd question Armando's spot, footsteps moved toward the living room. 

“You're wearing my sunglasses.” Aretas chuckled and gestured by your face. 

As you gaped while embarrassed, Kelly covered her mouth in shock. 

______

“What happened last night?” You offered the question between Armando and Kelly. 

“Lots of drinking and dancing.” Kelly just smiled towards you. “We all crashed down here when Mike and Christine went upstairs.” 

“How much did I drink?” You absolutely cringed right now. 

“You finished that wine bottle with Armando and danced together.” Kelly took a moment and drank water. 

“Dancing?” You then furrowed your brow near Aretas. 

“Yeah, it was fun.” Armando nearly smiled, but caught himself. 

“I definitely have some videos. Hold on.” Kelly seemed more and more humored. 

“Oh, no!” You removed the sunglasses, but still veiled your face this time. 

Just when Kelly began scrolling, Armando's phone started ringing.  

“Hello?” Both you and Kelly stopped messing around when Aretas picked up the call. 

“Dude, it's Terry. We need help, man!” Terry Richmond somehow contacted Armando. 

“What happened? I'm listening.” Aretas put Richmond on speakerphone to hear every detail. 

“The coffee shop's manager is dead.” Terry exposed that truth loud and clear. 

*****

As sirens wailed throughout and emergency lights flashed beyond direction, yellow tape met that coffee shop when law enforcement intervened. 

For the first time since quitting, you prepped one of the uniform jackets and dodged guidelines to help. Sitting back would never become an option. 

“Estimated time of death?” You questioned experts after joining that crime scene. 

“Last night around 10:00 PM.” One professional spoke up this time. 

“Quick kill. Discreet enough to avoid some outward panic.” Mike observed, requesting for you to bring Terry Richmond for questions. “Get Terry, Rook.”

“All right.” You turned away from that body bag while the forensics team moved along. 

______

“Explain what happened, T.” Drifting back to the police station, you joined Armando while Terry occupied this interrogation room.  

“Uh, everything seemed normal. Walked by the coffee shop and picked up my order as usual, but when I left that restroom to go home, there was spotting on the floor.” Terry leveled his response right now as bright eyes focused. 

Spotting? Fuck! You realized. Blood. 

“Where did you find that spotting?” You offered more questions for Richmond while Armando typed. “Did you see anything in the restroom?” 

“No, Ma'am.” Terry cleared his throat. “There's an employee door and office space located directly across from restrooms.”

Bingo! Of course you memorized the layout this year and pictured each area. 

“Who found that body?” You offered that chance just in case. 

“I found your manager sitting dead in his office chair.” Richmond's deep tone answered. 

Despite remaining composed, your heart still dropped. 

______

“We'll block this area until further notice. Who knows what else happened?” Returning to the crime scene, Lowrey took charge again. 

“Looks like another homicide case.” Marcus Burnett cringed. 

“Nope.” Lowrey declined. “Our squad just confiscated plenty of drugs, too.” 

“What the hell?” Burnett still can't believe what's going on. 

“Rook, bring Terry along.” Lowrey asked you to invite Richmond near everyone else as a precaution. 

Here we go. 

*******

Once this team confirmed an investigation, Mike, Marcus and Rita returned home before kicking off the police department's brand-new game plan. 

You bring Terry around as expected and gathered remaining members of the AMMO squad. 

“Sorry for the last-minute rush. We can't take any chances if you stay near that crime scene.” You explained this plan as Terry entered your house. 

“Don't worry. I get it.” Terry nodded, glancing around. 

“Make yourself at home. Kelly and Dorn would crash here all the time.” You welcomed Richmond. 

“Thank you.” Terry nodded and gathered his backpack, scoping the residence just in case.  

______

While Kelly and Dorn occupied one of the guest rooms, Terry showered upstairs. 

Down by that kitchen, you've set up this Bluetooth speaker and quietly played music while cooking for everyone. If only circumstances improved. 

“Hey.” Slightly accented English caught your attention and you carefully turned around. 

“Almost done making dinner. Did you need something?” You asked. 

“Where's your outlet? I just need to charge my phone. ” Aretas lifted his cell. 

“Check underneath my kitchen counter.” You gestured for a moment and finished cooking as Armando walked over. 

“Thanks.” Armando plugged the phone and washed his hands, setting the table with five plates or matching silverware like second nature.  

When that kitchen table looked ready this evening, you'd texted the group chat and everyone started heading downstairs without fail. 

“Smells good in here.” Terry almost smiled over some good news. 

“Thank you, T.” You still expressed gratitude right now. 

“You're welcome.” Terry's bright eyes almost glinted once more. 

Kelly and Dorn sat together, but Armando observed when Terry found this spot near you. 

“Let's not mention the case. How's everyone feeling?” Dorn spoke up next. 

“Never respond. We'll end up with therapy cards…Ow!” When Armando faced Terry, you stepped on his foot under the table. 

“Don't be rude.” You say.

“That hurt.” Aretas clenched his words near you and Terry sipped water to avoid laughing. 

“Get some ice or stop complaining.” You're just trying to eat and Armando frustrated nerves once more. 

“Damn!” Even Terry chuckled while Kelly and Dorn almost looked on. 

“What's so funny?” Armando clipped venom toward Richmond this time. 

“Chill…” Terry warned. “Regardless of the case, you're getting uptight now.”

At that moment, Armando stopped talking and excused himself from this table, choosing to finish his meal outside near the patio. 

Ditching your meal, you followed his path and closed the sliding door. 

______

“What the hell?” Your voice started debating. “You can't keep doing this shit!”

“Go back inside and leave me alone.” Ignoring his plate now, Aretas locked eye contact with you. 

“Don't tell me what to do in my own house!” This nearly raging tone gritted anger. “I brought y'all here for safety reasons.” 

“Why even do it?” Armando kept going. “We can take care of ourselves and you're not a babysitter.” 

“I won't leave anyone behind, not even you, Armando.” No matter what happened next, your words shared this vow. 

“Thanks.” Heading back, Aretas found his spot at the table and tried to feel better. 

******

“Everything okay?” Terry checked on both of you when Kelly and Dorn planned to sleep. 

“We're good. See you in the morning.” Armando nodded and would shower late before resting himself. 

“Aight, see you tomorrow.” Richmond dapped up Aretas for the evening, but stayed downstairs with you. 

Glancing over your shoulder, smiled for their moment of kindness. 

_____

“Don't worry. I'll straighten things up. It's the least that I can do. Terry wanted to help out as you'd reorganize the kitchen. 

“We'll work together. Deal?” You compromised instead. 

“Deal.” Terry cleared different places as you cleaned up. “So how long did you stay with the police? Y'all have pictures everywhere.” 

“About seven years.” You've signaled the dishwasher. “AMMO wasn't even founded yet when I joined that precinct.” 

“Impressive.” Terry almost whistled before fanning out this new trash bag for the garbage. 

“Thank you.” You smiled and described the origin of your nickname: Rookie. “Mike and Marcus call me Rook because of my age. It's not an academy thing.”

“You know enough information and can't feel outdated here.” Terry washed his hands before sitting down in the living room once you both finished responsibilities. 

“Yeah. It's sad, but let's just say that older CIs aren't discreet anymore.” You joined Terry. “No comfort means no details.” 

“How did you find Big Dawg?” Almost laughing, Richmond vaguely referenced Armando. 

“Someone called with an anonymous tip that night.” You explained. “We locked down coordinates and found a bloodbath sprawled out near the Miami Harbor.” 

Shit! Richmond shook his head. 

“How rough?” Terry went on. 

“No survivors: shootings, stabbings, money toppled over that dock. It was one of the scariest things I've ever seen.” You remembered the problem, but never crossed Aretas until now. 

Before Terry asked further questions, you both looked up to see Armando heading back downstairs. 

Fuck. You thought. 

Fresh out of the shower, Aretas wore this tank top with loose pants, heading back to the kitchen. 

“What are you doing?” Changing the subject, you leave this couch and watch Armando get a snack. 

“Can't sleep?” You laughed. 

“Isn't it obvious?” Aretas casted both eyes toward that ceiling and found one bowl, dumping popcorn. 

“Grouch.” Chiding Armando, you gathered more snacks to share with Terry as well. “What's wrong this time?”

“Nothing.” Aretas declined. 

“Hey, don't start that shit again. “She's just checking on you, all right?” As his deep voice returned, Terry defended you while correcting Armando. 

“Stay out of it because I wasn't even talking to you.” Aretas clipped right back. 

“Be grateful that she didn't throw us to the wolves now.” Richmond nearly sized up Aretas while talking about your home. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?” 

“Stop taking charge.” Armando backed off and gestured around. 

“What are you talking about?” Terry squinted, puzzled. 

“You moved here and everybody thinks you're special, but I can't even spend five minutes alone with her.” Armando expressed himself. “Maybe we'd have a better relationship if you'd back off.” 

“Not my problem.” Terry lifted both hands, sitting beside you once more. 

“What do you want?” You crossed both arms and looked toward Armando. 

“Don't ask me that.” His voice noticed you even more as Armando took the popcorn and headed right back upstairs. 

“What?” Frustrated, you squinted near Terry by this point. 

“It's better for everybody if you talk to him. Good night.” Arching his brow, Richmond leaves you as well. 

______

When you finally planned to sleep in your own bedroom, someone knocked. 

You opened this door to see Armando standing in the hall.

“Hey. I'm sorry for irritating you…” Your voice trailed off when Aretas stepped closer. 

“I'm sorry.” His brown eyes locked your presence when Armando sniffled quietly. “I just…”

“Yeah?” You tried to listen because his voice still mattered. 

“Nothing changes what I did, but y'all still ganging up on me doesn't help, either.” Aretas expressed more feelings. “I might as well go back to prison.” 

“Maybe if you weren't so quick to hide from everyone, things would be different.” You offered another perspective. “I just wanna solve this case and go back to normal.”

“I know. It's not easy for me, but I'll try. Get some rest, okay?” Struggling this time, Armando stepped back and you could sleep without interruptions. 

******

By morning, everyone settled around the kitchen together when you finished cooking breakfast. 

“Pass the hot sauce, baby girl?” Terry slipped that nickname by you while looking for one condiment. 

“Here, T.” You didn't even correct him and exchanged the bottle, picking up silverware to eat again. 

“Thank you.” Terry nodded and spiced eggs for his meal, moving on. 

Dorn and Kelly froze in unison here, surprised beyond words. 

“Espero que te quemes la lengua.” Using his native language of Spanish, Armando wanted Richmond's tongue to burn. 

“What was that?” Terry caught on. 

“Doesn't matter.” Aretas stood from the table and noticed Richmond once more. “Help us solve the case or leave.”

“Back up. Gettin’ tired of your attitude.” Of course Terry wouldn't fight, yet patience grew thin. 

“Guys…” Dorn wanted to settle this problem for  everyone, but Kelly stopped him. 

Terry sat back down and still warned Armando. “I thought you wanted another chance here.”

“Stop assuming shit. You have no idea what's going on with me.” Aretas defended himself again. 

Out of nowhere, your phone rings, breaking silence and moving tension elsewhere. 

Putting the call on speaker for everyone, you know better this time. 

“Hello, who is this?” You leveled this question for so many reasons. 

“Hola, Mami. Que tal?” One familiar chuckle reached your phone when Armando's old goon Zway Rodriguez picked up. 

“What did you do?!” After reaching his breaking point, Aretas snapped upon realization, held back by Terry and Dorn when hearing Zway's voice. 

“Just keep me out of prison and I'll explain everything. Otherwise…” Zway requested his own terms. 

“What?!” Armando's rage only worsened, but Terry and Dorn still wouldn't let go of Aretas. 

“Be careful, man. I'd hate for this special girl to be the next target.” Zway dropped that call, bringing everyone into this chaotic frenzy. 

******

“Are you saying that Zway killed this coffee shop manager?” As you stayed home, Mike Lowrey and Marcus Burnett gathered AMMO members near the department. 

“We'll find out soon enough.” Dorn tracked information to find puzzle pieces for the case. 

“Compromised again?” Mike questioned protocol once more. 

“No, but if we don't listen to Rodriguez, she'll be dead.” Dorn grounded the truth with your safety and planned to lock that case. 

“Be careful while you plan Zway's interrogation, all right?” Marcus and Mike also warned Captain Rita Secada. “We can't even put Armando in the same building.” 

“Fair enough. Go ahead and deal with Rodriguez yourselves.” Rita stepped out of the precinct. 

________

“Listen, be grateful. Armando would've kicked your ass, Zway.” Marcus Burnett paced back and forth while questioning Rodriguez. 

“No, Marcus. If it wasn't for us, Zway would be dead at the morgue tonight.” Mike folded both arms and stood in one corner. 

“Keep me out of prison.” Zway dared to speak this time. 

“First of all, don't fuck around. Did you kill the coffee shop manager or not?” Mike Lowrey squinted. 

“Yeah.” Zway dropped his bored response without showing emotions. 

“Why?” Mike prompted immediate eye contact, keeping composure. 

“It's all revenge.” Zway continued. “I even planted drugs y'all found at the coffee shop.”

“Revenge for what?” Mike questioned. 

“When Armando shot me near that helicopter four years ago, I fell into water, but survived.” Zway revealed. “Keep me away from prison unless you want problems.” 

Glancing toward one another, Mike Lowrey and Marcus Burnett left the interrogation room. 

_______

“It's official, y'all. Zway just confessed to everything.” Marcus exposed the truth. 

“Is it possible to keep him out of prison?” Dorn looked concerned. 

“No. We need a different plan.” Marcus shook his head. 

“We've got no other choice, then.” Lowrey darkened his voice. 

“What the hell are we supposed to do?” Marcus worried. 

“Somebody needs to kill Zway.” Lowrey couldn't turn back this time. 

_______

While staying home as a precaution, you find Terry and Armando in the living room. 

“Hi.” You spoke up. 

“Hey.” Both protective men faced your direction as sympathy reached their eyes. 

“Thank you for looking out.” You've expressed so much more gratitude. 

The doorbell prompted all three of you to glance forward, but Terry checked your RING Camera first. 

“It's Lowrey and Burnett.” Terry pinpointed your friends. 

“Let them in, T.” You offered permission, but Armando stood up anyway, ready for the next plan. 

“Before we start talking about this shit, c'mere, Rook.” Lowrey opened both arms to hug you. 

And for the first time since handling Zway's call, your eyes began to well up. Even Marcus wouldn't pass jokes. 

“What's the plan?” Your kind voice lowered without hesitation. 

“Somebody needs to kill Zway, but Armando can't do it or he'll go right back to prison.” Mike revealed this truth. 

There's no other choice. You've realized the possible outcome. 

“All right, then.” Enough was enough. “Bring the squad together and back me up. Whatever happens, I'm not going down without a fight.”

______

By nightfall, members of the AMMO squad returned to your home and prepared this attack from different corners. 

“Watch the house, Terry.” You offered brief yet vital instructions. “That's all we need from you.” 

“Yes, Ma'am. Be careful.” Armed himself, Richmond focused as you rolled out with everyone and silently waited for more. 

******

“Have Armando take henchmen, Mike!” Marcus yelled out loud while steering another motorcycle and neon lights painted streets. "Don't let him catch Zway!” 

“This is a battlefield, Marcus!” Lowrey moved among blaring engines. “No more rules. I am not responsible for Armando tonight.” 

“What about his redemption, Mike?” Marcus still attempted to be logical. 

“If Rook dies, Armando's second chance won't even matter.” Lowrey gritted his teeth over your chance to live. “Let's go!” 

______

Zway Rodriguez punched speed without fail as racing motorcycles caught up. 

Glancing past his shoulder, Zway quickly realized that someone lifted their firearm while still directing the motorcycle. 

No! Only one person crossed missions through anger four years ago. 

Armando returned. 

“It's Aretas, move faster!” Zway attempted to warn other goons. 

While Zway prepared to dodge Armando, he didn't even notice that your motorcycle joined this fight. 

“Here's payback.” You pulled this trigger and immediately spiraled Zway's route, dashing to escape between shadows. 

“Zway's dead!” Armando turned near you without removing his helmet. 

“Follow back to my house! We gotta check on Terry.” You would return home as expected. 

******

No targets, only silence. 

Terry Richmond heightened awareness while keeping watch in your home. Even distant sounds located for the neighborhood matter at this point. 

When engines revved out loud to line up vehicles this evening, Terry knew that signal. 

The AMMO squad returned. 

“Open the door, T!” You hurried to run inside with everyone else. 

“C'mon!” Terry almost pulled the doorknob this time. 

Kelly and Dorn entered first, no longer hiding in that surveillance van. 

Mike and Marcus pulled through next as Rita stepped up before long. 

When you and Armando reached this house, pain nearly dampened Terry's face. 

Regardless of the plan, it's still a miracle that you're alive. 

Just when this group would settle with relief, lights shut down as the home turned pitch-black. 

“Stay armed and keep watch here! No friendly fire.” Terry warned you and the AMMO squad. 

Within seconds, glasses shattered from rear living room windows as bullets rattled, searching for carnage. 

“Look out!” You screamed, trying to defend yourself while every moment prompted chaos. 

Yet when lights returned for the living room, everyone else glanced around, realizing that Armando and Terry no longer battled here.

“Be careful while searching for them. We gotta move!” Lowrey stepped over countless bodies while instructing all of you. 

Where did y'all go?! Your thoughts rushed as panic heightened even more. 

______

“No corras!” Rasping Spanish once more, Aretas warned enemies not to run. Seconds later, vengeful bullets sparked through lethal fire. 

“I hear Armando's voice in the garage.” Kelly finally noticed echos. “Go, go, go!” 

Scoring the garage, you found absolute carnage here. Even Terry moved forward and disarmed other goons.

“Listen! Either deal with me or I'm throwing you to him. It's your choice.” Richmond still warned targets about Aretas. 

As bullets raced, fear struck combatants every single time. 

“Give me your weapons and leave.” Terry gritted without hesitation. 

While still fighting others, everything slowed down when this bullet pierced time. 

You fell back and toppled against the hard floor right now. 

“Dammit, she's hit. Armando!” Terry barked through shock. 

As blood spilled with each passing moment, you wince despite the guard of your own vest. 

Footsteps rushed to your aid as you still recognized Kelly and Dorn. 

“Call paramedics!” Dorn hurried. 

Rita, Mike and Marcus kept fighting elsewhere in the house, not realizing your injury yet. 

“T….” You struggled, grimacing without assistance. 

“We'll handle this, all right?” Terry still planned to help right now. “Keep your eyes open.” 

Soon enough, Footfalls dashed to reveal Armando's presence. 

“Move!” Slightly accented English pulled more feelings when Aretas shoved Richmond out of his way. “What the fuck happened?!

Entering the garage themselves, Mike, Marcus and Rita stood flabbergasted on sight. 

“Aw, shit!” Mike grilled everyone over your accident. “She's losing too much blood past the vest. Where's medical?!” 

“I already called for help!” Dorn shouted with an explanation. 

“Well, medics better hurry up and reach that bullet!” Marcus exposed his anger. “My niece is dying.” 

Just when you trembled near deadly pain, sirens wailed outside once more. 

******

While beeping sounded, fluorescent lights almost blinded your vision as you woke up in the hospital. 

“Hey, Rook.” Detective Mike Lowrey joined your bedside this morning. 

“H-Hi...” As you struggled talking, exhaustion replaced that cheerful voice. 

“Just take it easy.” Mike cautioned. When you sat up, different wires aided. 

“Terry and Armando?” You looked for Richmond and Aretas. 

“You got it. I'll get 'em right now.” Mike pointed between you and the door. 

_____

“She's awake, c'mon.” Crossing the lobby, Mike updated Terry and Armando as you wished.  

“Made it. How are you doing?” Before long, Terry knocked first and held flowers, showing this rare yet great smile. 

“Tired.” You attempted.

“Better than nothing. You're still here.” Terry joined the bedside chair and sat down. 

“What happened?” You couldn't help asking questions despite everything. 

“We barely reached the hospital and experts took out your bullet during surgery.” Richmond never lied. 

“Thank you.” Your pained voice expressed gratitude once more. 

“You're welcome.” Terry said. “Have you eaten yet?” 

“I can't stomach anything. Maybe later.” Even your throat seems uncomfortable. 

“Okay.” Richmond took notice. Let me know and we'll help out.” 

Knocks resumed and Armando stepped in, no longer wearing tactical gear. 

“Hey, sorry.” Aretas walked closer. “I got some water for you and the vending machine held up.”

“Thanks.” You tried. 

“We just found out that you'll be discharged soon.” Armando revealed. 

“How soon?” You questioned. 

“Tonight or tomorrow.” Armando nodded.

“Thank you.” It's a habit just to repeat that kind phrase. 

Even while you smiled through fatigue, your mood  brightened again. 

*****

Given permission to leave that hospital, you could finally return home, but wouldn't handle work until further notice. There's no other choice this time. 

Headlines soon revealed that the coffee shop became defunct. This establishment pulled too much drama following Zway's dark investigation. 

During your recovery, even Armando helped on a regular basis and only slept from his downtown apartment when working at the police station. 

Sooner than later, Mike Lowrey and Marcus  Burnett had planned another special cookout for the department. Friends still invited you today. 

Planning to leave with Armando, you both signaled the group chat first. 

“Where's Terry?” Moving near that driveway, you haven't heard from Richmond yet. 

“I don't know.” Armando finished packing this car as you joined the passenger seat. “He might've gone to the park early or something.”

Just before Aretas would drive, another vehicle pulled up. 

Richmond turned down the driver's seat window of this brand-new SUV.  

“What are y'all waiting for? Let's go!” Chuckling through joy, Terry guided your route toward the public park. 

This happy ending could shine at last. 

[biffhofosho]

A Shot Through the Heart

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, natch.

Word Count: 17k (yeah, you read that right >.>)

Pairing: Hyungwon x OC

Trope: Anonymous sex, strangers to lovers

Synopsis: “You can’t catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton.”

The Vibe: Hopeless romantic OC meets shameless Miami Beach party, sweet and sincere Chae Hyungwon (who’s also a bit of a pathetic loser sometimes, and I love that about him, so that’s here also), probably cringey meet-cute, definitely cringey rom-com title because obvious cheesy rom-com overtones, well-meaning friends who actually have no clue what they’re talking about, body shots, stepping out of one’s comfort zone, instant chemistry, trying (and failing) to keep things casual, unprotected (not-so) anonymous sex (thank you, dramatic irony), far too romantic for what it’s supposed to be, the usual unrealistic rom-com expectations, cute ending because the author is also a hopeless romantic

A/N: Continuing the Wonnie love agenda since no one else wants to do it for me. This was most definitely for me because I’m hyper-obsessive about Hyungwon’s every charming feature and the Unseen promotion as a whole, but I hope you enjoy it, too.

You are here for fun.

As Gwen danced from foot to foot in the raucous line, she repeated the words over and over.

You are here for fun.

With searing clarity, she could hear her roommate Marie as though they were still in the car on their long drive down from New Jersey.

“It’s Miami, okay? You’re not going for a relationship. You are here for fun. Grind up against random hot guys. Make out with a stranger. I love you, but be a little fucking unpredictable for a change. Whatever, just no crushes because, I swear to god, if you even say to me, ‘He’s really sweet, Marie! I could see myself going out with him!’, I will throw up. And if the words ‘boyfriend material’ come out of your mouth, then so help me,I’m leaving your ass in Florida.”

You are here for fun.

She couldn’t even fault her friend for the rant. Gwen formed attachments, real and imagined. Hell, she was about to celebrate her 11th anniversary of fake marriage to Dylan O’Brien even though she hadn’t watched anything with him in it in years. Almost every man she’d ever gone on a date with had been followed with a relationship that left a crater of ruinous magnitude. It drove perennial bachelorette Marie crazy considering she was always the one left behind to rip the empty cookie dough tub from her roommate’s death grip and hazmat the ground zero of all the balled-up tissues.

After the latest of Gwen’s embarrassingly short-lived “sure-thing” relationships blew up spectacularly in her face, her friend had taken her under her wing and planned to show her once and for all “how to put distance between your heart and your lady parts.”

“Let’s have a little fun at men’s expense,” Marie had proposed when she’d flaunted the extravagant hotel deal she’d scored in Gwen’s face.

Now a month later, and here they were, three nights in at a palatial hotel on Miami Beach with a pulsing club in its heart and a raucous party that trickled out onto its grand pool concourse.

Their deal had been a simple one. In exchange for saying “yes” to three bullet points on her roommate’s “good time list,” Marie would pay for the hotel rooms for their bachelorette weekend. The only other stipulation on top of that was absolutely, positively no relationships.

So far, Gwen had passed with flying colors. She’d let a man buy her a drink at the hotel bar, and she’d danced with a few strangers, all without a hint of attachment. The guys were an eclectic mix of hot that had Marie rubbing her hands together and muttering “Taste the rainbow” on ludicrous repeat, but that’s all they were—eye candy. Gwen could compartmentalize that. Her friend’s plan was working. She’d felt beautiful. She’d felt powerful. She’d felt in control of her heart for once. She was ready to conquer one last, more challenging bullet point.

“You’re young, you’re hot, but you’re too damn romantic,” Marie had scolded as she’d helped her friend accessorize before heading down for the night. “Tonight, remember your mantra. You’re here to have fun. You’re not going to invent a backstory for everyone you meet. It’s okay to be a little superficial sometimes.”

“I’m doing pretty good, aren’t I?”

“Killing it, in fact,” the spicy brunette agreed.

“Damnit, I’m still so nervous every time though,” Gwen admitted as Marie had smoothed out her friend’s blonde beachy waves.

“Yeah, I know, babe, which is why I keep urging you to dip your toe instead of deep-ending everything. Contrary to what your Nora Ephron-mutated heart tells you, ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the guys you meet aren’t marriage material for Gwen Goodwin.”

“What about the one who is?”

Marie bent down and kissed her friend’s cheek. “I don’t know, but I promise you this. You didn’t meet him last night, and you’re not going to meet him tonight.”

So it had all led up to this bullet point—a ridiculous line for body shots poolside.

“Come on, you picked the best one on the list! It’s harmless,” Marie had laughed as she escorted her friend into the line. “You can’t catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton. Now, I'm going to go hit on that guy over there, and, god willing, have his beautiful, obscene mouth on mine for a bit, and you’re going to spin the roulette wheel of hot and put your beautiful, obscene mouth on someone’s sexy stomach. No regrets?”

“No regrets,” Gwen agreed.

“I’ll have my eye on you, babe. If you need me, text me,” she said as she flashed her smartwatch at Gwen.

“Will do.”

“Have fun! Love you!”

“Good luck!”

Gwen watched as Marie zig-zagged through several clusters of partygoers until she reached her target, a rather burly guy with stupendous shoulders accentuated by a compression tee. Gwen couldn’t see the guy’s face, but she could see her friend’s, and it was lit up with a smile the likes of which she had never seen from the girl. She kept her fingers crossed that things would pan out as her friend hoped.

Meanwhile, Gwen turned back to her line where the shot-takers waited alongside the line of human shot glasses. She was at least twenty people back from the table, so there was no way to know with whom she might be paired. There were just as many women in the shot glass line as there were men, all of them attractive at unprecedented levels. She was grateful she was in the line she’d chosen because she didn’t think she could survive someone of their sexiness putting their mouths on her stomach.

That’s when her eyes fell on him, the shot glass with the round face and flushed lips. He was tall and slender, dressed unassumingly for someone in his decidedly sexier line. He wore a plain black tee and a pair of slim fit jeans on legs that seemed double the length of the rest of him. Other than a few silver rings on his spindly fingers, his only accessory was a pair of now-pointless sunglasses sitting on top of his fluffy dark hair. There was nothing flashy about the guy, yet she somehow wished she had a pair of her own sunglasses just to look at him.

His toned arms were stacked loosely over a wide chest that pulled the tee at his shoulders. Pretty as he was, the man didn’t talk to a soul; if he knew any of the people around him, he didn’t let on. Instead, those big, inquisitive eyes busied themselves scanning the party like a prairie dog.

He looked at her suddenly then, and the weight of his attention made Gwen’s ankle give out in her stupid high heels. She wobbled back with a yelp, but, luckily, the girl behind her caught her elbow and helped her regain her balance.

“You all right?” the girl asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gwen mumbled along with an apology and her thanks.

“Walk much?” said some generic bro a few people back in line, and it felt like everyone at the party was looking at her.

Humiliated, Gwen risked a glance over at the shot glass, but he seemed to be the only one who had turned back, though she couldn’t help but think that a proud smile tugged at his lips.

She would give just about anything for her pajamas and a romantic comedy right about now. She contemplated slipping out of line and heading back to her room, but she’d have to clear it with Marie first because she didn’t want to just leave her friend in such a big crowd of strangers, so instead, she stayed the course with plans of making a hasty retreat right after.

As the EDM pulsed across the party deck and the palm trees shimmied overhead in the steady sea breeze, the lines dwindled quicker than she ever expected.

And of course, it was becoming abundantly clear that, short of someone passing out or running off at the last possible second, Gwen was going to be lapping tequila from the navel of the pretty boy with the prettier smile.

When there was just one couple left ahead of them, she thought about offering her spot to the nice girl behind her as a thank you. The ponytailed babe behind the pretty boy sported a crop top and a great set of abs, so technically, it would still be fun for Gwen without the creeping dread, but before she could ask the girl behind her to switch places, she heard the call from the bottle girl.

“Next!”

With a lump in her throat, Gwen approached the table alongside the man in the black shirt. He nodded to the girl behind the table and then to Gwen.

“Hey.”

“H-hey,” she said.

The bottle girl continued all business as she had that night, though she did offer the man a smile she did not offer Gwen.

While she paid for her shot, he climbed onto the bar counter easily and shimmied himself into the most comfortable position the hardwood would allow.

Everyone waited for the hem of his shirt to reveal his stomach, but it didn’t. Instead, he looked to Gwen.

“You want it, you have to do it,” he said with a toothy grin as his eyes flicked to his clothed torso.

Gwen glared at his stomach and then at his face. “Excuse me?”

He laughed and waved in surrender. “I’m kidding, just kidding!”

But it was now patently clear he knew he’d been the reason she’d stumbled, and she wasn’t going to let him halt her momentum.

You are here for fun.

Finally, the attendant grew too annoyed to keep her mouth shut and griped, “If you’re not going to take the shot, I have to—”

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it,” Gwen insisted, though she’d meant it more for her shot glass than her bartender.

With a glower at the long man stretched out before her, she pushed his shoulder back so he flattened out on the table, the grin still playing at his luscious lips finally disappearing with her determination. Her fingers curled around the hem of the t-shirt resting far too near the apex of his thighs, and, slowly, she pushed it up his abdomen. She could have just yanked it up, but she wanted to punish him for his teasing as much as she wanted to savor the reveal, so she let her palm drag across the yielding skin of his stomach.

A swath of flawless flesh appeared beneath her, tensing instinctively along the path her hand had set. Like the rest of his features, it was soft and inviting. He didn’t have washboard abs like many of the men who’d showcased on the table already; instead, she found a narrow waist flaring broader and broader the higher she pushed the shirt up his chest. His freshly tanned skin featured the gentlest dips and smoothest waves of skin she’d ever seen. His navel was delicate, cute even, though she’d never considered a bellybutton particularly cute before. All of it made Gwen’s throat feel far too dry.

The bottle girl didn’t even try to hide the way she chewed her own lip, but she poured a shot of crystalline liquid into the appetizing little divot anyway. Gwen’s shot glass laughed, borderline giggled, at the sensation, sending a slender river of booze cascading over his naked waistline.

“Cold,” he confessed.

“You’re up,” the bottle girl said to Gwen with a bitterness she also didn’t try to hide.

Gwen nodded and stole a quick glance at the man’s face. He’d propped his head on his hands now so he could watch the show and grinned so hard she expected his laugh to follow any second.

Her brow wrinkled. If he was going to play games with her, then she could damn well return the favor. Gwen splayed her hand at the hem of his jeans, her fingers spread between the contrast of silken flesh and harsh denim. She bent over and pressed her bottom lip into the pouch of skin at the edge of his navel and closed her top lip around it to form a seal. She sucked quickly, a little of his skin suctioning between her lips.

The man gasped, and his hand clasped reflexively to the back of her head as she drained the last of the liquor from his navel. The urge to kiss his tummy overwhelmed, but Gwen fought it off, though she couldn’t quite stand up with his hand still in her hair. Instead, she rolled her head to the side and caught his eye. The motion surprised him, and he yanked his hand back.

Gwen stood up and licked every honeyed droplet of booze from her lips. He tried to sit up, too, but distracted by the trail of her tongue, his hand slipped in an errant splash, and he fell back onto his elbows. It was her turn to savor a proud smile.

“One more?” asked Gwen hopefully.

He didn’t hesitate. “Okay, sure.”

“Another shot please,” she said to the bottle girl, thrusting out her card.

“Sure,” said the other woman with a well-practiced smile. “See you shortly.”

“What?”

“You can buy another shot, but you’ve got to hop back in line.”

“But we’re already here?” Gwen noted with a poignant look at the man’s exposed stomach.

“Not how it works, sweetie. See you in a bit. Next!”

With a resigned sigh, Gwen rejoined the crowd. There was only a slim hope of being paired up with the same guy again, but not knowing what else to do, she followed the snaking line to the end only to notice the man was nowhere to be found.

Gwen looked for Marie, but the crowd had swelled as the night had worn on, and she couldn't find her friend anywhere. No doubt, the girl was twirling in some random hot guy’s arms somewhere in the thicket of dancers at the other end of the concourse, but Gwen didn’t really feel like braving all those sweaty bodies.

You are here for fun.

It had been fun, she realized, but it was so short-lived that now that it was over, she also realized how little fun the rest of the night had been in comparison. Rather than spoil Marie’s good time, too, Gwen made her way to a poolside recliner and sat down to people-watch.

There were hundreds of beautiful people here, not that that was a surprise; short of some place like Los Angeles, she wasn’t sure where there was a more concentrated percentage of objective hotness. Everyone rocked a beach-ready body, many still clad in their actual swimsuits, and thanks to the tropical air, they all smelled of a perfume of sunscreen, booze, and sweat. Laughter and cheers crescendoed around her as drinks were downed and the music pumped up. Tiny asses nestled in gyrating groins as limbs snaked up and down strangers’ bodies.

But as much as there was to see, the truth was the one person Gwen wanted to watch was gone.

Another ten minutes or so had passed with her eyes firmly fixed on the body shot lines, but her shot glass never reappeared, and she found herself so painfully far from the “fun” she was supposed to be having that when a new guy sat down beside her and started to chat, she decided to invent a new backstory of her own considering Marie had banned her from inventing them for bachelors she’d met.

“I only found out mid-way through the pregnancy that my cousin was having my fiancé’s baby. So I said ‘screw them all,’ packed my shit, and drove straight down here to start having some of my own fun for once,” proclaimed Gwen with a whip and toss of her hair over her shoulder.

“Heavy,” said the bearded man with a smug, approving nod next to her, and she snickered to herself at the anticipatory predatory flash in his eyes.

But her fun at the stranger’s expense was also short-lived when she heard over her shoulder, “That’s some story.”

Gwen swiveled on her chaise to find the lithe stranger from the body shot line holding a mostly empty bottle of tequila with a spout already stuffed in its neck.

“Oh, hey,” she fumbled. “You’re still here.”

“I am.”

An awkward silenced stretched between them as she scrambled to figure out which version of herself she was supposed to be presenting.

Miraculously, the bearded man saved her at the last second. “Is this your friend?”

“Best friend actually,” said her former shot glass, “here to make sure she has all the fun she wants.”

Knowing his window had closed, the bearded man nodded and faded back into the crowd without so much as a wave goodbye, not that Gwen had room to spare another second for him now that pretty boy had returned.

“Was any of that story true?” her handsome stranger asked.

Gwen shrugged. “The having fun part is true enough. The rest might have been part of said fun.”

He smiled gently, his cheeks two kissable meringues as he added, “Sorry about before.”

“For what?”

His eyes cast down her leggings to her feet. “Is your ankle okay?”

“Oh.” Gwen wrinkled her nose and protested weakly, “Hey, that wasn’t you, you know.”

“No, of course not.”

“It was these stupid heels. I’m more of a sandals girl. I’m just not used to wearing them.”

He nodded though he was clearly suppressing a laugh. “I see. So I’m off the hook?”

Gwen cocked her head in mock consideration as she eyed the bottle in his silver-clad hand. “That depends. How are you going to make up for exposing a very tragic girl after she thought she’d gotten away with it?”

One of those rings clanked emphatically against the glass, ringing even above the club music. “What about offering a second shot like you wanted?”

He waggled the bottle for effect, the liquid inside splintering the pulsing lights.

Gwen squinted at him. “How did you…?”

He brought his finger to his lips and bent down to her ear. Thanks to the blaring music, even this close, he nearly had to shout, “I stole it.”

“What a rebel.”

“Yeah, well, I’m really motivated.”

“Uh, okay, sure. I guess that’s fair.”

“Good, because I’m all about fair. Come on. I’ll find us somewhere where you can take it.”

The innuendo simmered between them until Gwen’s thirst had expanded beyond the restraints of mere drink.

“There’s a lounger right here?” she suggested as she looked at the chaise, but he shook his head.

“That would draw to much attention. I’m a rebel and thief now, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. How could I forget?”

“Maybe we can head out to the beach, or,” the stranger hedged slowly, “I have a room upstairs if you want?”

His tone was matter-of-fact, considerate even, yet sin infused his bottomless brown eyes. It was a proposition Gwen had never considered. She was a fall-in-love not a fall-in-bed kind of girl.

But.

She was not going to fall in love on this trip, and she had never seen a man who looked like this one.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she pretended to mull it over and shrugged a shoulder to sell the act, though there had only ever been one possible outcome the moment her eyes had met his.

“Maybe it’s better if we go upstairs… I mean, we don’t want them to lock you up and throw away the key.”

“I appreciate that,” he said with a smile that left little doubt how well he understood everything.

“Let me just make sure my friend is okay with it.”

He nodded, unfazed. “I’ll do the same.”

Both of them pulled out their phones, and Gwen sent a quick message to Marie.

When Gwen put away her phone, she found the man waiting with an expectant, squishy grin on his face.

“Is your friend all good?” he asked.

“All good. What about yours?”

He motioned through the crowd back toward the hotel, and as they walked, he said, “They’re all good. Turns out they all knew already. The friend who helped me distract the bartender told the rest of them anyway, which I should have figured, I guess.”

Gwen perked an eyebrow. “They knew when I didn’t, huh? You’re not just a rebel, but a cocky rebel.”

Her companion laughed and rubbed the back of his head in his chagrin. “Maybe I’m just more of a hopeful rebel. Or a lucky one seeing as I almost lost my chance.”

She laughed now, too. “Who? That guy? No way. I think I was just amusing myself since I was bored.”

“Bored? Here, I half-expected I’d find you back in the body shot line.”

“Well, I whole-hoped I’d find you back in it, too, but since you weren’t there, that poor guy had to hear a story I’m pretty sure I stole from a soap opera.”

Her companion smirked. “I guess that makes you a rebel and a thief, too.”

“I guess so.”

They chatted easily across the busy pool deck and all through the lobby, but the second the elevator doors closed them in alone together, the conversation clotted up. It was a long and mortifyingly unbroken trip to the twenty-second floor, and the only sounds were the shush-shush of the elevator and the dull thunk of the bottle as he tapped it against his thigh.

Suddenly, he cleared his throat. “Uh, kind of embarrassed to admit this, but it occurs to me I don’t know your name. I’m—”

“You know, let’s keep it that way for now, okay?” Gwen interrupted with a tight smile.

“Huh? Oh, sure, sure…” he agreed though he couldn’t have looked more floored.

“It's nothing personal. Actually, that’s sort of the point. I have a tendency to get carried away. It’s a long, boring story, ha. And a lot less colorful than my made-up ones.”

“I'm a good listener.”

“Yeah,” she said solemnly, “I can tell that about you. Which is definitely why I need to keep things firmly in the here and now.”

“Live in the moment, I can get behind that.”

“Cool.” Gwen turned hesitantly to him just as the doors to the elevator split wide. “So, is that okay with you? Because if it’s not, we’ll just toast to this super awkward elevator ride.”

The man motioned for her to go ahead of him into the hallway before he added, “I’m not the kind of guy to turn back.”

I can tell that, too… she thought resignedly.

He led Gwen down the chic hallway to his room, where she stopped short and pulled out her phone.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Just letting my friend know where I am.”

“That's smart,” he said with a nod. “I’m on notice now, huh?”

“You got that right, buddy.”

They shared a laugh, and again, Gwen was struck by how brightly the man’s face glowed and how engaging his laugh was. Another thought popped into her head just then.

“Speaking of...” she started as she raised her camera. “Smile?”

Without a trace of surprise or curiosity, he did, and it was so blinding, it threw off the exposure in her phone, which gave Gwen the perfect excuse to snap a few more.

“How did my mugshot come out?” he asked and craned his neck to steal a peek.

“You’re a matter of public record now, sir. But I imagine it will be the first mugshot to grace the cover of Vogue.”

“Nice.”

She stashed her phone without hitting send, with a small grin for her white lie. For some reason, Gwen couldn't bring herself to share him. But he didn't need to know that.

Meanwhile, the man fished his key card out of his too-tight jean pocket and ushered her inside. He took off his shoes as soon as he walked in, much to her relief, since it meant she could finally get out of her damn heels. When she looked back up, she was at a loss.

“Shit…”

His head whipped toward her, eyebrows pinched with concern. “Everything okay?”

“I mean… Your room is so much nicer than mine.”

He clutched his heart in mock relief before he said, “What’s your room like?”

“Not like this. Small and bayside. You have a balcony!”

“Oh, uh, yeah. It’s my friend’s bachelor party this weekend, so we all kind of went all out, I guess. You want to go out?”

“Hell yeah, I do!” Gwen squealed. She made a bee line past the enormous bed and whisked open the door.

The wind was stiffer twenty-two floors up, and it bombarded her skin, fresh and salty and a little sticky but uplifting. She breathed in deeply, a smile splitting her face. The half-moon shimmied across the Atlantic swells in time with the electronic beats filtering up from the party at the pool below. She couldn’t help herself—she waved at the partygoers even though they were far too small to see much this high up.

“Aw,” her companion said sweetly. “Waving to your friend?”

“Yeah,” replied Gwen with a blush. “Not that she’ll see me.”

He joined her in leaning on the railing and waving at his friends, too. When he looked back up, his smile shifted slightly, less silly and a lot sultrier. She cleared her throat lightly and headed back inside.

With her back to the huge bay windows, Gwen could finally take in the rest of the room. It was modern and cloaked in the same jeweled beach tones of her own, but it was much more spacious, with a desk and a sofa plus a pair of chairs, while, to the left behind a half-wall, the enormous bed stretched out beneath a large padded headboard.

With a tiny yelp, her companion scrambled over in a hurry to straighten the still-crumpled covers and even out the pillows.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he worked, “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like I make my bed on vacation. Or ever really.”

Gwen meant it, but that didn’t mean she could shake the undeniably sexy implication of those tossed sheet or the image of this beautiful man stretched out naked and languid in them.

Still, he dressed the bed as quickly as he could and turned around with a flushed face. Again, he mumbled, “Sorry.”

“No worries. Hey, do you care if I use your bathroom?”

“Sure, it’s right around there,” he replied, gesturing toward the other side of the bed.

It was really just an excuse to see how much fancier it was than her own, and it did not disappoint. Instead of just a shower stall, there was a huge walk-in surrounded by glass, and instantly, images of fogged windows with desperate hand smears flitted across her mind. Just around the corner was a deep jacuzzi tub that conjured just as many filthy thoughts.

This was progress, Gwen thought. Her libido was on overdrive, which meant she could safely put her heart in the backseat. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her waves had regrettably frizzed, and she’d sweated out a fair bit of makeup, but it did make her skin glow, even under the harsh LED lighting. After a quick freshen-up and a primp to make her chest is best perky self, she returned to find the man waiting in front of the main window, adjusting the tuck of his tee in his tiny waistline.

There was just something about him—his every gesture was sweet and sincere, completely without artifice. And just like that, her heart was threatening a comeback.

You are here for fun.

Gwen shuffled in with a short wave. “I think your bathroom might be as big as my hotel room.”

He grinned. “I think it’s bigger than my apartment honestly.”

“You mean you don’t live like a high roller every day?”

“Actually, I moonlight as a broke New Yorker.”

Oh shit, he’s not far from you, Gwennie…

“You’re ruining my fantasy of the millionaire playboy in town for a big business deal.”

“My apologies,” he joked with a bow.

“So, when’s the wedding?”

He cocked his head, and it was painfully cute. “The what?”

“Your friend’s wedding.”

“Oh, next month.”

“And the groom’s not going to be mad that you’ve abandoned him?”

The man smirked. “On the contrary. Pretty sure he’s looking for any excuse to get rid of me.”

“You really are public enemy number one, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, undisputed.”

As they came down from their laughter, Gwen realized how close they were standing. This close, those lips loomed like a full moon, and she basked in their plumpness. The heat between them brought the intoxicating tendrils of his cologne forward, a fresh brightness that matched his smile, though it occurred to her he may have stolen a moment to reapply it while she’d been in the bathroom. The thought made her swallow hard.

“You’re easy to talk to,” he confessed abruptly, and Gwen tensed all over.

You are here for fun.

“Even though we haven’t really talked about anything?” she retorted.

He shrugged one thick shoulder. “Maybe that’s why. I’m kind of a wallflower at parties. I mean, that whole body shot thing was just a dare from my friends anyway.”

“Mine was like that, too!” she blurted and immediately regretted it, the way he seemed to soften all over. It wasn’t just how gentle his already-round features looked, but he relaxed against the desk into a cool lean as his usually petal-shaped eyes widened with interest.

No backstories, Gwennie, she scolded herself. Put that distance between your heart and your lady parts!

“So that’s how it happens, huh?” she continued in a sultrier voice as her finger stroked the neck of the bottle. “You do one dare, and now, you’re a full-blown criminal mastermind?”

His voice had dropped, too, along with his eyelids. “Looks that way.”

“Are you a liar, too?”

“No! What?”

She chuckled and waved the bottle between them. “What about my second shot?”

“Oh, you were serious?”

Gwen gaped at him. “Aren’t you the one who stole the tequila?”

“That was just so I had an excuse to talk to you again.”

Oh no… He was painfully, unforgivably, patently cute. Gwen could practically hear Marie threatening to leave her in Florida.

“Ah,” she said to deflect, “so you did lure me here with empty promises.”

“No! I—"

“I’m teasing,” she assured, and as she studied his saucer eyes, she risked resting a hand on his bicep, which she had to stop herself from just straight up groping when she felt the twitching muscle beneath.

“Sorry,” he said. “I just… I never do stuff like this.”

“Like what? We haven’t done anything.” He looked helplessly at her, and Gwen chuckled again. “Sorry, still teasing. When I'm awkward, I make awkward jokes. I've never done anything like this either.”

“Like what?” he echoed, and they shared a tight smile, but it vanished when he looked at her much softer this time. “Seriously, I don't expect anything.”

You can't catch feelings sucking tequila out of a stranger's bellybutton…

“I know, but I do.” Gwen swished the bottle back and forth, and he offered what she could only type as a giggle.

“You’re right, you’re right. So, um, how do you want to…?”

He spun in a circle until he nearly made himself dizzy, and she grabbed his shoulders to steady him.

“Maybe, um, you should just lay on the bed?” she suggested.

“Oh. Yeah, that makes sense. So, I’ll just…”

“Get on the bed?”

“Get on the bed, yeah,” he repeated. The man spared a quick moment to smooth his shirt over his chest and run a hand back through his thick black hair, which had the most fatal way of feathering back across his forehead in a very regrettable heart shape.

Since the moment she’d met him, the man had possessed a magnetism that had set him apart from all the other hot people at the party, but here in his room, he was borderline pathetic, tromping around like a lost giraffe between the living room and the bed as he emptied his pockets between the desk and the bedside table. When, at last, he was ready, he walked to the foot of the bed and plopped down. He looked back at Gwen with a sheepish grin and comically high eyebrows.

“Ready?” she asked as she raised the bottle.

“If you are.”

She nodded and followed into the bedroom, and the air shifted. In here, it was hotter and even more humid than down at the beach but without the benefit of a breeze.

He sat down at the edge of the bed, and Gwen crawled on the bed beside him. She strategized on how to best take her shot, and while she positioned herself, her knees pressed into the mattress as she sat up, he untucked his shirt and raised it himself.

At the party, body shots had been a game. Here, it was foreplay. Judging from the blackness in his eyes, he knew it, too. He laid back and propped up just a bit on his elbows, which cupped his stomach just the right amount into the sweetest little bowl.

“It’s different,” he murmured.

“Yeah, it is,” she whispered, too, because somehow every thing, every word, felt very loud. “I can take my time now.”

He didn’t say anything. He just waited.

Gwen lifted the bottle, and, as carefully as she could, she tipped it until a golden thread puddled at his belly. He didn’t flinch this time. Instead, he sucked in a breath which deepened the cup at his navel, and she was only too happy to fill it to its tasty brim.

“Perfect,” she said as she set the bottle on the floor. “Don’t move.”

She braced her hands on his thigh and his ribcage and bent forward. Her lips glossed the velvety skin there before she opened her mouth and sucked up the sweet, smooth liquor all too quickly. This time, though, she spared a moment to dip her tongue into the divot, and this made the man beneath her hiss.

She licked her lips and ventured a look up his heaving torso to find him totally expressionless save for his overblown pupils.

“Satisfied?” he asked in a voice swollen with the same darkness.

Gwen shook her head lightly. “Still thirsty.”

But she did not reach for the bottle. Instead, she put her lips to his stomach and sampled a new patch of skin. It yielded beneath her, and so did he. He let out a low groan that tightened the muscles under her lips.

Another kiss led to another and then one more as she nipped and nibbled at the tender flesh. There was something about the man that was simply and undeniably edible, and no matter how much she tasted, she could not get enough. Gwen helped herself all the way up to the delicious flare of his rib cage, and at the swell there, she risked a swirl of her tongue. His head snapped up as he panted out a heavy pair of breaths.

“You're driving me crazy,” he said with a slanted smile.

“I could say the same,” she agreed, and when she brought attention back to his stomach, she noticed a lonely freckle at his hip. Her lips raced to devour it, this time adding a graze of her teeth. He jolted.

“That tickles!” he exclaimed though it was followed by another groan.

Gwen responded with another twirl of her tongue to savor the salt on his skin, and the groan became an outright moan. Emboldened by each grateful sound, her hand slid slowly up his thigh, and soon, it bumped a rigid hill smothered by tight denim.

At the first graze, he jolted again but followed it with a simmering hiss as his hips bucked reflexively into her hand. His eagerness was going to Gwen’s head. She wanted more of his pretty moans. She wanted more of his pretty body.

Her hand moved more brazenly to stroke the outline of the intensifying hardness, but this time, she was the one moaning at the way his bulge filled her palm. Her forehead pressed into that gentle stomach as she rested her lips lazily at his hip bone. Meanwhile, her fingertips traveled up the zipper to the waist of his jeans and swept back and forth before her thumb centered over the button there.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

Gwen kissed his hip again before she answered, “You told me if I wanted it, I had to do it.”

“Ah, I said that, didn't I?”

“You did. And I want it.”

He sat up higher now, expectation on his face. He drew his lush bottom lip between his teeth, and that alone set Gwen’s blood aflame.

Without another thought, she placed a garland of kisses along the waist of his jeans, and when she undid the button there, her lips raced to taste the secret skin she’d exposed. Dimly, she realized she was getting too carried away on a chance encounter, but she couldn't stop.

She couldn’t stop.

The further her mouth charted down the open zipper track, the more powerful her desire grew. She smelled his cologne here, too, bright like the tropical air but deepening down to dark woods on a second, greedier inhale. And beneath all that was the smell of him.

Too hungry now, Gwen hooked her hands in his jeans and tugged down. He lifted his hips with zero hesitation, and soon enough, she had full access to all that she desired. She swept her hand over the black fabric still sheltering him and felt him lurch. She hummed.

Slowly, she peeled down the hem of his boxer briefs, and his cock sprung up gratefully. Above her, her pretty boy exhaled hard, which only grew raspier as her skin touched his rawness at last.

Gwen’s romantic heart had drawn her to a number of beds over the years, and she’d enjoyed some decent sex in that time, but even without entering her, she knew this man was special. All his skin had been babied, but here, he was silkiest, like satin over marble. One touch was enough to fuel an addiction that sent a blaring alarm of dread to the back of her mind that she might never touch another cock that felt like it was made just to please her.

She danced her fingertips down his wickedly hard length until she got to his base, where she squeezed appreciatively. He hissed and hummed and arched his back before he mumbled something low and deep that she wished she could make out because just the echo of its echo sounded devastating.

Gwen didn’t intend to take things so leisurely—she knew she shouldn’t be—but it seemed foolish to fast forward through what had to be the sexiest man she’d ever met. Her friend’s rules be damned, she was going to enjoy every second for as long as she could make it last.

He was watching her, open-mouthed, as she held him. Their eyes met. Her breath caught.

Gwen wet her lips and pressed them to his hot, red tip and let her tongue curl into the smooth channel underneath. Her beautiful stranger let out the raspiest groan as his face disappeared from her view to sag under the weight of pleasure.

Spurred on, she invited him into her mouth now, shallow at first, but a little greedier with each pass until she could take what she could of him to the back of her throat. When she was comfortable, she found the perfect rhythm to have him singing for her with every eager suck.

And he was so noisy. It wasn’t filthy words or heaps of degradation like she’d heard plenty of times before. Between his moans and the grunts and the achy sighs, Gwen realized she’d never been with a man who had appreciated her more. It was filling her up with not just pride but confidence, and it made her want to ruin him even further.

His hand came to rest on the back of her head, but she quickly plucked it aside and pressed it into the mattress. For the briefest of moments, she released him to mumble, “Stay still.”

His shaky “okay” made her chest feel swimmy, and, instead, he balled two handfuls of sheets. But the man couldn’t help himself. Though he was hanging onto the bed with white knuckles, his hips took to lifting from the mattress, and she had to force them back down, too. She knew with just a little more speed and the addition of a helpful hand, she would get him off in no time, but she was having so much fun.

It didn’t hurt that all his whining was getting her off, too, even without a single touch. Gwen couldn’t remember a time she’d been so wet or so turned on.

Again, the stranger moaned, but this time, he added with a thick rasp, “You’re incredible. You might be my dream girl.”

It was her turn to whimper, but the vibrations traveled not just through her body and straight to her throbbing clit, but they also traveled down his length in a circuit of pleasure. He sucked in a harsh breath through gritted teeth as his legs tensed and struggled in the confines of the jeans still cuffing his knees.

“Can I—” he said before another grunt cut him off. “Wait. Can I just—fuck—can we take these pants off? I want to feel more of you.”

Gwen startled. She sat up on the bed and watched, numb with anticipation, as the man practically had to peel off his skinny jeans. He worked as quickly as he could, but it afforded her a flash of an ass as cute and smooth as his stomach and legs as long and delicate as his fingers. When he sat back down at the edge of the bed, he pulled off his shirt, too.

When she came to his room, Gwen hadn’t really known what to expect. It was clear they would end up in bed, but, for some reason, she never expected them to be fully naked. Now that things had taken a much more intimate turn, the casual momentum she had built quickly siphoned away.

This time, he didn’t lay back.

Here, he sat—breathless, naked, gripping his glistening cock, and staring hopefully at her.

“I’d really like to see you, too,” he asked.

As soon as he voiced his throaty wish, a fresh torrent of lust leaked between her pressed thighs. If she had worn the minidress Marie had pitched, there would have been no hiding it.

Gwen wanted to be coy or funny or anything other than tragically eager for this man, but how could she say no to such hopeful eyes and freckled lips?

With a red face and sweaty hands, she slipped out of her shirt, leaving her in her bra and leggings. She’d been wearing the same damn burgundy lace piece for two years, but now her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t undo the last clasp she’d put on hundreds of times.

He smiled knowingly and leaned in to wrap his arms around her. It only took him a moment to rescue her, but in his arms, time had stopped. Skin to skin changed everything. Gwen was spiraling, and the only way to make it stop was to steer into her tailspin.

Their lips met not in a clatter, but gently and with curiosity. Even at first brush, the way his puffy top lip notched into the crease of her lips felt like habit, like it had been there many times before and should return countless more times.

His hands cupped her cheeks briefly before they slid back in tandem to tangle in her disheveled waves. Only then, as he held her fiercely, did his tongue slip into her mouth to their shared whimper. One of his hands glided from her hair, down the back of her neck and over her shoulder, fingertips dancing like raindrops with the same biting chill thanks to the metal at his knuckles. He traced the side of her breast and then its underside all while his lips meshed with hers and his tongue curled deliciously against the roof of her mouth.

Trapped in the riptide of the moment, Gwen reached for him, too. His skin was just as soft at his neck and shoulders as it was at his waist, and she couldn’t stop stroking every inch she could access. He was only too happy to encourage her touches, even going so far to redirect her hand from his ribs to his hair like he wanted her to pet him. She let out a needy sigh that his mouth immediately gobbled up.

It wasn’t a surprise that the man was an attentive kisser. What surprised Gwen was how much she felt in the kiss. He was pouring something into her even as he seemed to drink from her, and she didn’t want it to stop.

She didn’t want it to ever stop.

You are here for fun.

Marie’s voice in the back of Gwen’s head was the ice water the blonde needed to disentangle from her beautiful stranger. Because that was all he was.

A beautiful stranger.

Gwen pulled back. He blinked slowly at her, but she kissed his flushed lips briefly to soften the transition. The hand of hers he’d placed in his hair drifted down his arm to his thigh, and whatever emotion had knitted his brows a moment ago corrupted. With a gnaw of her bottom lip, she slipped off the bed to the floor. His eyes followed.

He didn’t ask Gwen to kneel between his legs, but he didn’t have to. She was getting good at telling exactly what he’d like best—far too good at it.

His thighs were much creamier than the Florida caramel that warmed the rest of him, and as she shuffled into position between them, her hands worked higher and higher up their breadth. His knees tightened at her shoulders. Now that she was shirtless, she had no defense against the zaps of electricity that came with each stolen moment of raw contact.

His cock strained between his hips, the head shiny with lust and the veins pulsing along its length. Gwen gripped his hilt and stroked a few times, and he sighed in relief.

Now that he was sitting up, their dynamic swapped. He loomed over her. Shadows darkened what had always been a bright face. His enormous hands braced at the edge of the bed, firing prominent veins along his forearms. His shoulders corded with heavy muscle previously concealed by his round edges. The planes of his stomach creased as he bent over her. He wasn’t about to neglect even a second of his front row seat.

Gwen brought her lips back to his member and picked right back up where she’d left off, only this time she was noisier. Wet slurps and hungry hums echoed up from between his legs, and with each one, he got a little louder, too.

This time when his massive hand curled around the back of her head, Gwen reveled in it. His nails scratched deliciously against her scalp as he threaded her hair through those elegant fingers and tugged mindlessly. She was grateful she’d forgotten to strip off her leggings or she would have been dripping shamelessly on the carpet.

At last, she picked up speed, so she closed her eyes and concentrated on her seal around his demanding thickness. Her lips chased her fist up and down his shaft so he was never without a moment of her full attention.

The messier she savored him, the more urgent his whines got and the more he bucked underneath her. The hand in her hair was now a fist full of a makeshift ponytail. Mouth full, she raised her eyes to his face. A swirl of her tongue around his tip was all it took to rip a cry from his hunkered chest.

“Wait, wait, wait!” he demanded and pushed her shoulders back. “Wow, okay, you have to stop. I’m going to cum.”

“That’s the idea,” Gwen replied as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

But the man shook his head. “I want to make this last, and I definitely don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You’re not.”

“Good… Good.”

A pregnant silence fell between them. Both of them considered where to direct the needle of their night next, but he was faster.

“You know, the view from up here really is something,” he said.

“Ha ha,” Gwen said drily, but the earnest look on his face knocked her sarcasm down a few pegs.

“Come up and see.”

He offered both his hands, and once she took them, he helped her up to the edge of the bed. When she was seated beside him again, he kissed her sweetly.

When he stopped, his forehead rocked against hers, and her eyes fluttered open.

“I really want to taste you,” he confessed in a whisper.

Gwen swallowed hard.

“You do?”

“Desperately.”

“It’s just—” she fumbled, painfully aware of the panic in her voice.

“You don’t want me to?”

She didn’t know how to explain herself without pitiful embarrassment. Most of the men Gwen had dated were keen for a blowjob but always had a dozen reasons to move things along right after. Over time, it had given her a heavy insecurity, which Marie had always assured her was utter bullshit, yet still it persisted. Gwen didn’t think she could recover from someone this desirable rejecting her, even if he was a total stranger.

“No, I mean, yeah, if you really want,” she blundered, “but… it’s just—”

She bit her lip, and he cocked his head patiently. His hand squeezed her knee, and the words came tumbling out of her mouth.

“I’m kind of a mess down there.”

“Yeah?” he said hopefully—to her complete and utter shock. “Come on, you can’t tease me like that. Now, I have to taste you.”

“What if— It might take me awhile,” she admitted from behind her hands.

Gently, he lowered them from her face to her lap, where he held them like a friend, though his hooded eyes and honeyed voice told a very different story.

“I hope it does.”

Gwen gasped and closed her eyes to steady herself. “What about you?”

He laughed. “This is about me.”

The best she could manage was a slow nod, but that was all the stranger needed.

He dropped to his knees on the floor and spread her legs enough to rub his huge palms up her thighs and back down again. The more he soothed her, the more her legs parted on their own so he could sit taller—and closer—between them. On the next sweep up, his hands lingered at the crest of her thighs so his thumbs could stroke over her swollen sex still imprisoned in her leggings.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“So good,” she replied as she collapsed onto the mattress and threw an arm over her eyes.

“Good. You can watch if you want, you know.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I’d recover from something like that. You’re, like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen as it is. That might actually ruin me for life.”

He chuckled, but it was tainted with pride. “Maybe that’s the idea.”

Gwen shot up to her elbows to argue, but that was the exact moment the man wriggled his slender fingers under her waistband and then her underwear to peel them both off. Cold air attacked her core, and though it was a relief to finally be free of her sticky prison, she was unprepared for the pad of his finger to graze over the seam of her lips. She shivered and whined.

He hummed. “You’re really feeding my ego here, sweetheart.”

His thumbs resumed the same stroke as before, but since it was over her bare lips this time, the intensity amplified exponentially. Each wave parted her folds a bit, and there was no escaping the knowledge that her arousal leaked heavily every time.

“What a pretty sight,” he murmured.

Foolishly, Gwen stole a look at the man, and the image of his keen eyes fixed on her wet cunt branded her brain just as she’d feared. She whimpered, zipping her bottom lip between her teeth to near shreds as he played with her.

She felt the first brush of his lips against her not in the careless rush of an obligation but as a leisurely kiss of a seasoned lover. There, his mouth lingered only to part for his purposeful tongue. He licked up along her seam once—twice—and on the third pass, his fingers parted her core wide. The exposure had her keening mindlessly, but when his tongue swiped through the secret skin, she cried at the top of her lungs. Her arm pressed over her eyes hard enough to create starbursts behind her lids while her other arm pressed over her mouth.

For just a moment, he pulled back. Another burst of cool air blasted her core as he hummed again, this time dreamily. “Perfect.”

He kissed the meat of her thigh once, and then drove on heedlessly. He teased her entrance for a moment before he swirled that wicked tongue around her clit with a mind-numbing rhythm. Through all of it, Gwen sank deeper into pleasure. As vocal as he had been, she managed to outdo him even with her makeshift gag. It was completely mortifying but also completely out of her control.

He didn’t try to stop her writhing or her moaning. Instead, he used them both to his advantage. Whenever she squirmed, he chased, and it made the promise of release a near certainty.

It was incredible. It was terrifying.

It shouldn’t be this easy. It had never been this easy before.

Gwen felt the blossom of his lips nibbling at her aching clit, and before she could brace herself, he’d taken her in his mouth. It wasn’t just his delicious suction that made her lungs seize but the way his tongue undulated across her eager bud.

And then he pressed a fingertip to her entrance.

Gwen’s hands flew to the sheets and dug into the mattress. Her head snapped up as she screamed, “Oh my god!”

Her eyes flew open. He was waiting.

Damn heart-shaped hair and damn heavy eyes stole what was left of her sanity right before he eased his finger inside her.

At least the unprecedented bliss gave Gwen the small mercy of forcing her flat to the bed. Her back arched, her nipples tightened, and her voice gave out. The only thing she could do was pant like some unbound creature.

His fingers were so long—world-record long, she thought drunkenly—and they explored parts of her she’d never even known were there. He didn’t race through her either, but primed her the same as she’d primed him, the devil. In only a matter of a few plunges, he knew her in ways she’d never even known herself.

In and out, in and out, he pumped that perilously long finger, each stroke sealed with a kiss of metal and knuckle. Her body hungered louder and messier, worse even than she’d promised him. Her shameless pussy dribbled like it had never been touched before, and Gwen was very, very glad she could hide in the crook of her arm.

And then he added a second finger.

The stretch was vision-whitening, the depth dizzying, but still his tongue insisted on speeding her to her ledge. Even with her face covered, she turned away because looking at him was like risking looking into the sun.

“I’m going to— I’m going to—” she stammered.

His mouth lifted then, but before Gwen could protest, he brought his other fingers to her clit. There, he kept a thorough pace just shy of what she needed. No doubt, he knew it just as she had known it with him, but with the tables turned, it felt unexpectedly cruel.

As if to contradict that, he tenderly kissed her thigh, and basic instinct drove her to look at him.

He smiled at her, and, with grit in his voice, he asked, “You going to cum for me, beautiful?”

“Yes!” cried Gwen, shuddering on his fingers. “Yes, yes, yes!”

His fingers moved faster now, across her throbbing hill as well as inside her. Pressure like she’d never felt built between her hips. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to think.

And it all happened faster than she could ever have imagined.

She unwound.

Eyes winched shut, Gwen tore at the sheets as she arched, every muscle clamped in ecstasy, before everything released and she slumped glassy-eyed onto the mattress. Somewhere below her, she heard a little refrain of happy hums and dimly felt the slick circle of a tongue collecting all that she had released.

She panted as she came down from her high, her arm flung over her face once again, feeling everything and nothing all at once. As she worked to center herself, Gwen shivered.

“That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” said the stranger who was once again idly massaging her thighs, this time with the most delicious domesticity. “You kind of glow when you cum.”

“Oh, shut up!” she wailed as she curled into a ball.

“What? Sorry, but I mean it. You do this cute little thing with your toes, like a kitten paw.”

Gwen heard him pantomiming something in the sheets, but she was too busy cringing into another universe, one where she’d kept at least a little of her dignity. She burrowed her head deeper into her arms to fight back how endearing she found him.

“Hey,” he said with the sincerity of concern. “You okay?”

“Mm-hm.”

“You liked it, right?”

Gwen peeked out through a small window behind her arms and found the man seated beside her on the bed. He looked down at her with eyes no longer blackened exclusively by desire but softened with care. She bit her lip and lifted her head as she held his gaze.

A beat passed before she said, “I loved it.”

“Well then, if that’s the case…” he said softly.

He leaned down and kissed her as lightly as a feather brushing skin. When he pulled back, there was the sweet temptation of darkness tinting his eyes once more.

“Will you let me inside you?”

“Why did you have to say it like that?” whimpered Gwen as she flopped back onto the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” he said though he sounded anything but. “Is this better? Please let me fuck you.”

She hissed. “You’re a terrible, terrible man.”

“Yeah, but I’ll make you feel so good, and I did ask nicely.”

“You did…” she murmured as she leaned up.

Their lips barely had time to fully enmesh because he had to help guide her up to the pillows since the only thing she could manage for the moment was a beached fish, half-hearted wiggle.

If Gwen thought she’d have a moment to recover between heated kisses, she was dead wrong. He caged her in beneath him, his heavy cock thudding unmistakably against her mound as his body flattened against hers. Her legs spread instinctively. Perhaps she should have taken the many, many hints that she would never have any control over herself with this man, but the way her body simply opened for him was more than a little pathetic.

At first, she threaded both hands in his hair, and he groaned into her mouth, but every little thing he did made her restless for more. She kept a hand fixed in his hair while the other now squeezed and groped the length of his back. Even if she couldn’t see it at the moment, his shape drove her wild. Not only did his definition heat her hotter than she’d ever felt in her life, but, fully pressed against hers, his skin was as decadent as cashmere.

His member, on the other hand, was as heavy and demanding as a stone on her mound. Every time he rutted against her, the base of his shaft brushing her engorged folds, she lost a little more of her sanity. She could probably cum again just like this, completely empty and yet feeling so fulfilled.

They passed some time in each other’s mouths without further expectation, but the weightier his cock pressed, the more impossible it was to ignore her basest needs. As he’d been able to do all night, he read her easily.

Unwilling to leave her lips, he groped blindly at the nightstand until he’d found what he was looking for and had to break their kiss. He held up a condom, his eyebrows up on his sweet, swollen-lipped face with the unasked question.

“Forget it,” Gwen said with a huff. “We’ve already crossed the line, I’m on the pill, and I really just want to feel you.”

“Oh, shit, are you—” he said, but she cupped his cheeks and kissed him hungrily.

She was being stupid, but the fuck if she cared.

Gwen whimpered with every sweep of his tongue, but those gave way to hitching cries as his long fingers trailed from her cheek down her arm to her hip where they danced in unreadable designs across her flesh. It was so playful, so charming that her heart fluttered to a totally different rhythm than it had all night. And that was dangerous. She needed to move this along at last.

You are here for fun.

Her hips jerked beneath him, tilting up in a kiss far filthier and needier than even their mouths’, and he pulled back with a ragged hiss.

“You are so wet again,” he growled with a glance down between their bodies.

“I can’t help what you’re doing to me.”

He cocked his head to the side, looking handsomer than any man really had a right. “Yeah?”

“Yes…” she sighed. “You make me so desperate.”

She drove her hips up again, her overheated sex grazing his base once more. His eyes flared, and Gwen felt the urge to cower.

Suddenly, he grabbed her arm and pushed it above her head, pinning it there by her wrist.

Dimly, the bass from the music far below drummed through the walls, but it was little more than a backing track to their tattered breath.

His stare was more commanding, more powerful even than the hot-forged iron branding her just shy of her center.

“I—”

Despite how badly Gwen yearned to hear the rest, he let whatever thought it was simmer on the heavily perfumed air enveloping them. His eyes searched her, from his ring-clad hand clasping her wrist to her sweat-studded breasts and back, at last, to her parted mouth.

He dove back down to her lips with another growl while his other hand fumbled between their bodies. After a moment, his hips lifted, and she felt the blunt head of his cock at her entrance at last.

She needed air to calm her ragged nerves, but thief that he was, he stole everything from her with another nibble of her lips. As his tongue entered her mouth again, he pushed his length inside her walls.

Gwen tore from his kiss to unleash the reediest moan of her life.

“Oh fuck,” he grunted. “Did you feel that?”

She had no idea what he meant, which made it all the more dangerous because she knew exactly what she felt.

Everything.

Why did he have to kiss her just then?

Why did he have to fill her like he was the only one who should ever do it again?

You’re idealizing, Gwennie, she scrambled to remind her sex-saturated mind, but she couldn’t convince herself to stop even if she knew she was. This was a man who was every bit as perfect as her stupid romantic self wanted to believe.

All Gwen could do was moan and grasp the back of his head.

He followed the weight of her hand and pressed his face into the juncture of her neck to kiss her reverentially.

“Go slow,” she implored.

He hummed in agreement and eased his hips back to draw his length to its limit before gliding back in as though he were savoring her. The moment he bottomed out, her mouth fell open in a silent wail. Gwen had never felt so full.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Open up for me.”

His voice penetrated as deeply as his cock and rendered her putty in his hands.

Each sweep of his hips was catastrophic, but it was even worse since his body smothered hers. It was too much and not enough all at once, and Gwen was glad she didn’t have use of her other hand or she’d have wrapped him up in her arms already.

She thought after the first few strokes that he’d pick up speed, but he seemed content to while away their night just like this. The only change to his smooth rhythm was the rough emphasis he added to his every thrust that drove the air out of her lungs each time. It was like he was trying to drive deeper and deeper and deeper inside of her.

Each penetration afforded her the sexiest view of the horizon of his body, and now that she was this far gone, she lifted her head so she wouldn't miss another moment. He moved with the grace of water, and the current threatened to drown her just as easily. The swell of his ass rose and fell over the heave of his back.

His whines and grunts came back with a vengeance, with the added mercilessness of being uttered along her skin. It was a devastating reminder that as much pleasure as she drew from him, he was just as greedy for her body, too.

“Need to fuck you harder,” he warned in a voice heavy with gravel. “I need to.”

“I want you to,” Gwen echoed.

If she thought this would be the reason he pulled back from this ridiculous intimacy, she was dead wrong. Instead, he stilled inside her as he lifted to his elbows, but it only brought his searing gaze to her. His enormous hand soared up to cup her cheek. His thumb traced her bottom lip before, at last, he planted his hand firmly on the mattress.

His first few thrusts stayed slow, but soon he gained speed and, with it, power. His hips slapped against hers, and each time, it sounded wetter and wetter, but it all should have been louder.

The difference was, now that they couldn’t tear their eyes away from one another, neither seemed capable of making a sound. It was all Gwen could do to remember to breathe.

Harder and harder, he drove into her until her tits were bouncing and each fuck pushed rhythmic, vibrating cries from her. Still, she could tell they were both holding something back from one another.

They knew the moment they ended, whatever this was had to end, too.

His luscious mouth parted. There were words there, half-formed, but those he held back, too, though she starved to know them.

The next thing Gwen knew, he released her wrist to push her knee up and back. The angle shifted, and she had no choice but to rip her eyes from his to watch as his cock disappeared inside her greedy cunt.

She let out a tattered moan before she hiccupped out, “So. Fucking. Good.”

“I want to be deeper,” he answered back.

Gwen’s eyes rolled back in her head. “You’re—ah—you’re already so deep.”

But he didn’t seem to hear her. He dropped to her chest again, his hips rutting truly desperately at last. He buried his face in her neck and his nose in her hair as his lips glanced across her skin in the unintentional kiss that came with every thrust.

“Deeper…” he murmured as though hypnotized.

“Oh my god!”

He hitched her thigh higher up his side so she could feel with devastating consequence the way his ribs flared with every frantic gulp of air.

“Wrap your leg around me,” he instructed.

Gwen dug her heel into the meat of his back, and he grunted, but it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Hold me tighter, please.”

As she’d feared, it was a mistake the moment she wrapped her arms around him. Strangers fucking didn’t embrace. Yet here she was, clinging on with the last of her sanity to his sturdy shoulder blades.

He smelled so good—like sex and summer—and it imprinted on her mind.

“So. Deep,” she stuttered.

The way he stretched her out clouded her mind until the only thing she could find through the fog was him.

How could he possess her so fully but make her so desperate for more of him?

Him.

“Give me your hand,” he demanded in a rush.

Gwen let one hand fall from his back to the bed, and he grabbed it quickly and pushed it up over her head again, only this time, his fingers threaded through hers and squeezed as tightly as her walls squeezed his shaft.

His thrusts switched to shorter, shallower, much faster now. Each time, his cockhead brushed over a spot inside her that robbed her of all sound and all thought. Just like that, he’d reduced her to nothing but quivering nerves and trembling muscles.

Gwen dug her nails roughly into his back same as she squeezed his hand and let him ride her for all she was worth.

Since his cheek pressed against hers, she heard his every grunt in relentless stereo. He was too needy, too desperate. It was only magnifying those same feelings inside her.

Her skin burned with sweat. Her eyes burned from squeezing them against the overwhelming pleasure. Her core burned from the friction of his perfect fucking.

He was panting in her ear, and she could feel the curl of his lip as he snarled.

Gwen moved her free hand into his hair as she clutched his head to her like a lover.

“Baby,” she cried, “baby, I’m going to cum again.”

He let out the most pitiful whine she’d ever heard in her life as his hips spurred even faster.

“Baby.”

The pull was there, starting at her chest and dragging her down.

Down.

Down.

“Give it to me,” he urged, the words nearly broken under the crushing weight of his desperation.

“Baby!”

This time when Gwen said it, it was a strangled little thing, the last breath of a woman before she disappeared beneath the waves.

It was different, cumming with his cock inside her instead of his fingers. Her walls frantically beckoned him to disappear within her, willing him to never leave. She shivered and shook and screamed with the power of a release she’d never thought herself capable.

He fucked her through it all, the smoky curl of his self-satisfied “yes…” unfurling across her skin.

And when at last Gwen had no more aftershocks to give, she laid there too limp to hold on to him at all. Her leg slipped to the bed and her hand from his hair and her fingers slackened in his, though he refused to let her go.

His strokes had grown erratic, each one accompanied by the sloppy sounds of her catastrophic release.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he said hurriedly.

Gwen knew what she wanted—what her body was demanding. She wanted him to fill her up. She wanted this perfectly handsome perfect stranger to cum deep inside her so she should could hold on to a little bit of him even after she walked out the door.

But this was the end—not just of their passionate sex but their time together. If she didn’t put distance between them right now, she was in for an even more terrible fall.

No feelings, just sex.

“My face,” she blurted.

Gwen regretted it instantly. That wasn’t what she wanted at all, and she braced for the humiliation she deserved.

But, instead, he pulled out with a strangled cry and came in the tangle of bed sheets beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he managed between heaves of breath and frantic jerks of his spasming cock. “I’m sorry.”

She watched his broad, glistening back flare as he hid himself from her, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to touch him. Her fingertips slipped in the sheen of sweat there, and his head whipped back toward her.

“I couldn’t do that,” he said dejectedly. “You’re just so pretty, I’m sorry. I know that’s what you wanted, but—”

“I didn’t mean it anyway,” she said. “I don’t know why I said it.”

Something fluttered across his dark features before his brow furrowed, and he turned away again. “Damnit, I should have never listened to my friends.”

Gwen quirked her head even as she covered up with the sheet. “Your friends?”

The man tumbled onto the mattress and spread out like a winded starfish without a single care for his nakedness, and she felt a little shame at the way she ogled that delicious stomach and his softening length now glossy and still leaking onto his thigh.

He sighed.

He was so different now from the dark, intense man he’d been only moments ago. Back was the brilliance that emanated from within that almost compelled Gwen to close her eyes when she looked at him. She could hardly believe it was the same man who’d brought her to two earth-shaking orgasms in no time at all.

“Can I confess something to you?” he said.

Gwen tensed all over, but she managed a nod of her head. “Okay.”

“This isn’t really my thing,” he continued, and her heart plummeted in ways it shouldn’t considering she’d just fucked a total stranger.

“Oh…”

Gwen realized too late how apparent the disappointment in her voice was when the man shot up and swiveled to her, his hands waving in defense. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear! I mean, I have a hard time keeping things… simple. It wasn’t just the body shot thing that was a dare. Tonight was kind of my friends’ idea. They want me to be more… unattached, I guess?”

“That’s what my friend said, too,” Gwen laughed.

“Really?” He joined her laugh until, finally, his shoulders sagged with a light sigh as he covered his lower half with the sheet at last.

“Yeah.”

“I thought I was doing pretty good there, too, but— That was just so much more than I ever expected—you’re kind of more than I expected—and I really don’t want you to think I was just using you.”

“I don’t.”

“Good. Because…” He paused then, massaging his lips together as his eyes fell to his lap. “I think their dare kind of backfired anyway. Or it’s entirely possible I’m a hopeless case. So… I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tomorrow?”

At this, Gwen stiffened. Her eyes snagged on his naked frame. Though the sheet swaddled his hips and thighs, it did nothing to hide his tummy or his shoulders or his bowed head, nor did it conceal his pencil legs and feet poking sweetly over the edge of the bed. And then she realized they were both tucked under that sheet, and it would be so, so easy to just lay back and fall asleep with him.

There it was again, that urge to romanticize someone she didn’t even know, yet everything about the guy screamed boyfriend—or worse.

Oh no.

Boyfriend.

The one word Marie had made Gwen swear not to use this weekend.

And damned if her roommate hadn’t been right all along. The hard truth was, Gwen didn’t know this man. She didn’t know what he did, she didn’t know his past, she didn’t know his ethnicity or even his damn name, and that was all there was to it. To assign any more meaning to it was every bit as foolish as everyone always reminded her she was.

Dread welled in her stomach and weighted her limbs. The best Gwen could do was offer a tight smile. “I’d really like that, but my friend has our whole day planned.”

“Oh.” He looked crestfallen, but he picked himself up quickly and slipped out of the bed in a shy, awkward rush while trying to keep his modesty with the edge of the sheet still draped around his hips. He stretched out his leg as far as he could to hook the band of his jeans with his toe. He tried to keep conversation flowing even as he struggled with the cutest little grunts very different to the ones that had just been uttered for her ears only. “Oh yeah? Going to check out the beach or the city?”

“I’m not sure,” Gwen said. The truth was they had no plans, but she had to lie because her whole body screamed to meet him again, and if she did, there was no way of keeping things superficial. The man was too cute, too sincere, and far, far too sexy to turn down a second time. “I’m not one for itineraries. I kind of go where my heart leads me.”

He stopped, jeans sagging in hand as he looked at her with a gentle smile. “Yeah, same.”

But then his smile fell away, and he raced to shimmy into his jeans, too in a hurry to even bother with his underwear, and Gwen turned her head and busied herself poking at the remote on the bedside table.

Over her shoulder, she asked, “So, what will you guys get up to then? More bachelor party stuff?”

“I never can tell with them. Even when one of the guys makes plans, the others always seem to change them. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Easiest way to get through life,” she agreed. Gwen wanted to flinch at her own voice, but she didn’t want to call any more attention to her terrible bedside manner than she already had.

In the end, it didn’t matter. The man beside her was too perceptive, and he picked up her cues instantly. “Let me just grab the rest of my clothes and clean up in the bathroom so you can get dressed.”

“Would you mind if I go first? You know, since...”

Maybe if she tried hard enough, her awkwardness could compact her into a handful of atoms, and she could just disappear.

“Oh, of course, duh. Sure. Absolutely,” he bumbled.

Gwen grabbed the haphazard pile at the foot of the bed and practically sprinted to the bathroom where she tried to lose herself in the repetition of cleanliness. At least that was automatic.

Against her better judgment, she checked herself in the mirror. She looked every bit as undone as he had made her, and she hastily combed her fingers through her bed head so she didn’t scream “harlot” when she made her way back through the hallways. She rinsed her face and neck and swished some water to freshen her breath, and when she was done, she felt brave enough to face the music.

When Gwen returned to the bedroom, she found the man dressed as he had been, though all his clothes bore the same noticeable wrinkles and bagginess that hers did.

He smiled at her, and she swallowed roughly.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

It was agony. She just wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to feel him again. She wanted to hear him in the shell of her ear again.

“So, this was really fun,” she said lamely. “Thanks for the drinks and, you know, everything else.”

He laughed shyly.

This time, as she faced his open complexion and expressive eyes, she had no choice but to be sincere. “I had a really great time.”

“You did?”

She nodded. “I really didn’t expect to meet someone like you either, but I’m glad I did.”

“Ah!” he exclaimed before he unexpectedly bowed to her. “Thank you. I feel the same.”

Gwen burst out laughing, which helped ease the pang in her heart at having to pull away. “You’re cute.”

He shrugged a shoulder and laughed, too, though his was much more forced. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and the pair stood there in a stalemate. At last, he took a step back, and she took one forward.

“So…”

“So…” he echoed.

Gwen bit the inside of her cheek roughly in the desperate hope it would wake her up, and, thankfully, the flare of pain combatted the butterflies before they could overtake her. Tightly, she began, “I’m going to head out, I think.”

“Sure, yeah,” he said as he ushered her back into the living room to the door. “Yeah, you probably should. Are you good to walk back to your room? Wait, this is your hotel, right? Do I need to call you an Uber?”

“Yeah, I’m here. All good.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

They exchanged another round of confused smiles before Gwen, fool that she was, lurched up onto her tip toes and placed a kiss on his cheek. When she pulled back, his smile slanted with an irresistible dopiness.

“You sure you don’t want me to walk you back?”

“You probably shouldn’t.”

He nodded as though he understood, but Gwen wasn’t sure she did even though she’d been the one to say it.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

“Night,” he replied. “Take care.”

He opened his hotel door, and with a nod of her head first, Gwen turned and headed down the hall with the burning notion that he was watching her walk away.

She barely made it to the elevator before she had her phone in hand, intending to text Marie that she was headed back, but Gwen got sidetracked by the memory of what now lurked in her gallery.

She opened her camera roll only to be assaulted immediately by several snaps of his heart-shaped hair and buoyant cheeks framing his dazzling smile.

“He's cute. Is that your boyfriend?”

Gwen’s head shot up. She hadn’t even realized the elevator had stopped to acquire another passenger at some point. The bleached blonde girl smiled, her wild gold eyeliner glinting in the lowlight like some forest sprite sent there just to taunt her.

Gwen locked her phone and stuffed it in her leggings pocket with a shake of her head. “Uh. Oh, no, he’s just a friend.”

“Cute friend.”

“Yeah.”

The elevator dinged at the fourth floor and Gwen nodded to the other woman. “This is me. Have a good night.”

“You too!”

Back at her room, Gwen showered quickly, hoping it would be easier to distance herself from the forbidden word now buzzing in her brain like neon.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

She considered a shower, but that meant too much time to think just as much as it meant washing off the remnants of his cologne. She could do that in the morning once her heart had sobered up from its dopamine surge.

Gwen dressed for bed the same mechanical way she had back in Room 2281, and once she was safely into her pajamas, the familiarity brought the exhaustion in her muscles to the surface. She was only too happy to climb into bed after that, and tired as she was, she remembered to send her text to Marie.

Her finger hovered over the gallery icon again, but at the last second, she forced her phone off and let the night take hold of her.

Gwen woke to banging at her door. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, and sat up slowly since her muscles ached from head to toe. She glanced at the thick drapes and caught the wan strip of light along the edges, but she had no clue what time it was until she grabbed her phone to find that it was just past noon. Even more surprisingly, she noted the slew of notifications.

Nine texts and four missed calls, all from Marie.

The banging continued, and Gwen groaned. “Give me a minute!”

At last, it quieted, and she shuffled like a geriatric over to the peephole. There, warped in the fish eye lens, was her roommate looking the perfect cross between annoyed and desperate. Gwen unlocked the door, and Marie rushed in.

“Finally,” the brunette said. “I was getting seriously worried.”

“I told you I made it back,” Gwen corrected.

“Yeah, but then you didn’t answer me at all, and I thought maybe you were passed out or something.”

The blonde squinted as she studied her friend now pacing the length of the hotel room. “Are you sure that’s it? Seems to me you’re the one who’s not okay.”

Marie shrugged a shoulder.  

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” her roommate said, still pacing. “Everything.”

Still exhausted, Gwen sat back on the bed and waited.

“Shit, it’s just— You know what, let's go to the pool. Maybe it will wash that guy out of my system.”

“That guy? The one from the party last night? Did you have a bad night?”

“No! Worse!” Marie wailed and flopped onto the bed. “He wasn't just scalding hot. He was likable! Ugh, I'm devastated. Catching feelings is your thing, girl, not mine. Damnit, I need a distraction. Tell me about your night. Please, don’t spare a single fucking detail.”

It was Gwen’s turn to shrug a shoulder. “I had fun.”

“So much fun you're not even going to tell your friend a single detail?” But then Marie's eyes narrowed, and her roommate’s skin bristled. “Or you had too much fun?”

“Hey, I slept in my own room last night, thank you.”

Marie whined. “Shit, I know. I must be projecting.”

“So what the hell happened with you last night?” Gwen said, only too happy to turn the attention away from her as she shuffled into the bathroom for her usual morning routine.

“I hardly know. We were dancing and drinking, no big deal, so I figured it was just going to be the usual fun, and it was fun, but, shit, he was just different, you know? He was like one of those lead guys from your movies, all gentlemanly and shit but more, too. Like he’s got secrets, but not the kind you want to run from, the kind you want to know. Oh my god, what am I even saying?”

Gwen smiled. “So, he was hot and charming? How is that different from the other guys you hook up with?”

“Gwennie, I didn’t even tell you about the sex. Shit, the way he moved his hips! There should be a law. And he was so diligent. He knew exactly what I wanted, and I didn't have to say a word, which was good because the only ones I could utter were swears. And I just couldn’t keep my hands off of him, you know? Fuck, not just his muscles, but his hair…” Marie laid there slack-jawed at the memory, her hands pressed over her belly.

“Sounds like you got the unforgettable night you were gunning for.”

“You don’t get it, babe. Even as he was giving me the dicking down of my life, this guy—he was, like, quietly sweet and funny? I don’t know how to explain it. He could just… smile, and it would make me laugh, like, even when he was inside, and somehow that was still super hot, you know?”

Gwen burst out laughing.

“See!” said Marie, gesturing at her roommate as she exploded up from the bed.

“I see,” the blonde teased with a lingering grin.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just, you know who you sound like?”

“You.”

“Me.”

Marie sighed. “Shit, I know. You know the worst part?”

“What?”

“This guy asked me to stay after.”

“Oh…”

“I mean, it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time I considered staying. Ain’t that some shit? But what would be the point, right?”

“Yeah…” Gwen said slowly as she thought of her thick-lipped lover. Marie’s unexpected dilemma had been just what Gwen needed to forget the ache in her core and the bigger ache in her chest, but now, it was a mirror reflecting things back far too vividly.

“Shit, huh?”

“Yeah. Shit.”

“You know the only thing to do, right?”

“Don't you dare,” Gwen warned.

But Marie was already up and moving to the door. “We’re going to the pool, and I'm going to find another hot guy because hot guys are a dime a dozen in Miami, right? I'm going to cleanse the palate.”

“Yeah, that's not how that works.”

“Look, I've never thought a guy was husband material before, let alone a one-night stand, so what do you suggest I do, Ms. Ephron?”

Gwen scowled. “Don't ask me. I've been getting it wrong so long that I'm not even sure I could trust myself to know when it was right.”

“Okay then. For lack of absolutely any other plan, this is what we’re doing. Put your swimsuit on, gorgeous. Let’s see how much Vitamin D we can get.”

Gwen sighed, but the truth was Marie’s distraction did help her forget the feeling of being surrounded by the stranger she couldn’t shake, so she slipped into her bikini, fought hard not to open her gallery yet again, and decided to dive headfirst into something new like her friend suggested if only to prove to herself once and for all that she’d idealized everything about last night.

Marie joined her in the hallway decked out in her cutest Miami-approved string bikini, already smelling of sunscreen and Flowerbomb. “Let’s do this.”

The pair chatted about their day and where they might go for their last night in town, all while studiously avoiding the topic of last night. They padded through the extravagant lobby along with a sea of other swimsuit-ed guests, their flip-flops smacking across the marble like theme music, until they emerged into the blistering Florida sun.

The pool looked very different in the daylight. There was no trace of the stage or the bars, and there was certainly no body shot table left out. It was just an ocean of sun-bleached concrete thrusting straight up to the white sands of Miami Beach, broken only by an enormous aquamarine pool, dozens of lavish cabanas, and a manmade forest of towering palms.

“Wait,” said Gwen as she scouted the bustling crowd stretching all the way out to the blue sea beyond, “you want the pool or—”

“Oh my god!” shouted Marie as she squealed to a stop and slipped behind Gwen. “It's him!”

“Who? The guy from last night? Where?”

“There, right at the edge of the pool. The one who’s shaped like a yield sign telling me slow down and give in to him again and again and again…”

“Marie!” she shouted and whirled around to face her friend.

“Oh my god, Gwennie, you have to hold me back or I am going to do irreparable damage here. Shit, shit, shit! I can’t believe I’m the one saying this. Fuck. He's looking right at me now, and he's waving with that stupid cute teddy bear smile, fuck. What do I do! What do I do!”

Gwen grabbed her friend’s shoulders and shook her until Marie looked at her. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to go over there, and I want to talk to him, and I want to hear his whole entire life story and what he wants in a woman, and then I want to take him back to my hotel room and be that woman.”

“Oh, girl,” Gwen laughed, “I never want to hear advice from you about this ever again.”

“That’s fine, just please come with me. I don’t want to talk to him alone.”

“Who are you, and what did you do with Marie?”

The brunette grimaced as she squeezed Gwen’s hands. “I don’t know! Help me!”

“Okay, now, I need to see the guy who broke my friend.”

Gwen turned from Marie toward the pool in time to catch the man who’d unmade her roommate over the course of one night. He was every bit as hot as Marie had described, with a chiseled jaw and even more chiseled abs, and he was indeed shaped like a triangle, which could be appreciated even easier since he was only in swim trunks. His skin had been worshipped by the sun, and he was sparkling thanks to a fresh dip in the pool. He lowered his muscular arm to sweep his fingers back through his sopping wet hair, and somewhere beside her, her friend whimpered.

But the blonde could only spend a fraction of a second on everything else around her because beside Marie’s hunk now was the very man who had unmade Gwen last night.

Time stopped.

He, too, was fresh out of the pool, with a towel ringing his neck and shoulders as swollen droplets rained down from thick, haphazard locks. He was out of breath, his chest heaving from his swim and his pale lips hanging open as he gulped air, just as they had when he’d fucked her to the brink of insanity.

But his eyes were as steady as ever, and they were fixed firmly on Gwen.

“Should we go over?” asked Marie, but her friend couldn’t move.

Instead, the two men began to walk the long perimeter before the bronzed man cut out the inconvenience and hopped back in the pool to wade across. Gwen was pretty sure she’d never again see anything more life-altering than these two shirtless heartthrobs pressing determinedly through the water with the ripples surging around their matching narrow waists.

The pair climbed out in horrible, horrible unison, their wet thighs flexing in time with their arms as water rushed off in diamond falls, and it was all terribly loud in Gwen’s ears. It only amplified when her stranger smiled in his darling tight-lipped way.

They padded across the concrete to the little swath of grass under a palm where the two ladies had been paralyzed.

“Hi, hello,” said the deep-voiced bronzed man. “It’s nice to see you again, Marie.”

“Hey, Hyunwoo,” she replied. Maybe it would sound casual to the strangers, but Gwen didn’t miss the uncharacteristic tremble in her friend’s voice.

“Good day for a swim,” he observed as he glanced up at the sun through the palm fronds and rubbed the back of his neck. “You planning on the pool or the ocean?”

“We hadn’t decided.”

“Ah, is this your friend you told me about?”

Marie nodded and took the chance to cling to her roommate’s hand, and with that, gained some strength. “Oh, yeah, this is Gwen. Gwen, this is Hyunwoo.”

Gwen felt the sharp squeeze at her hand, which was the only thing that made her realize she’d been staring unceasingly at her own pretty boy. She whipped her attention to Hyunwoo to smile and wave, but she could feel the burn of the other man’s eyes until she felt more naked than she had in his bed. She didn’t dare look back.

“Nice to meet you,” Hyunwoo said with that teddy bear smile, as Marie had called it. He turned toward his shirtless friend and added, “This is—”

“Hey!” came an exuberant call from across the pool in one of the loudest voices Gwen had ever heard. There stood yet another handsome man with hair dyed honey blond and chipper eyes waving at them with both arms like a used car lot inflatable. “Hey! Ask them if they want to join us.”

“Minhyuk,” scoffed the remaining stranger with a roll of his eyes, but Hyunwoo shrugged his mouth.

“What do you say, ladies? We have a cabana over there. Lunch is on its way, and we ordered lots.”

Marie giggled nervously and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I remember how much you said you like eating. I mean, if it’s cool with everybody…”

The brunette looked desperately at Gwen and squeezed her hand tighter than ever, and all eyes looked to the blonde.

“Sure, that’s cool,” said Gwen though she was anything but.

She was burning under the sun though it was nothing to the way she burned under the magnifying glass of cruel fate. Here, before the gentle gaze of the man she had forced herself to walk away from, everything came into calamitous focus.

His laugh, his easiness, his openness, his beauty. Their chemistry, their connection, their compatibility, their flaws.

Maybe Gwen had been a fool in love an embarrassing number of times, but she realized now that maybe all those mistakes had served a purpose. She could see clearly for the first time what all those men had lacked, and she’d be a much bigger fool to turn back a second time from something that felt undeniably different.

“You coming?” Marie called, and only then did Gwen realize Hyunwoo and her friend were already on their way to the cabana.

Beside her, her shot glass waited, smiling as he always seemed to be in her presence with that delicious bellybutton still glistening though this time it was from lingering pool water.

“Didn’t think I’d be lucky enough to ever see you again,” he said.

“We’re really bad at this, aren’t we?” Gwen laughed awkwardly as she took the lead and followed her friend.

With his long legs, he caught up in a single stride, and together, they walked the long perimeter of the pool without any complaint.

“Bad at what?” he asked.

“Keeping promises to our friends.”

“Nah. Maybe it was just a dumb promise to make in the first place. And anyway,” he said, looking at her keenly over a bare shoulder, “aren’t you the one who told me no itineraries?”

“Oh yeah,” she said with a red-cheeked chuckle.

I go where my heart leads…

“I take it Hyunwoo’s a part of the bachelor party?” Gwen said.

“Yup. There’s eight of us, including the groom and his brother. You’ll like them, just hopefully not as much as you like me.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And who says I like you?”

“I do. At least, I hope you do. Or maybe I’m just trying to manifest it.”

Gwen smiled shyly and nodded. “You’re right. I do.”

“Kind of funny how this worked out, huh? Your friend and my friend meeting up. Kind of feels like…”

“Blind dumb luck?”

“Destiny.” He studied her for a moment and then returned his eyes to the path around the pool. “I was going to say destiny.”

Her heart was beating out of her chest again, but this time, there was no scolding voice inside her head to temper it.

“You’re still cute,” she blurted.

“And you’re still driving me crazy.” His eyes roved over her skimpily clad figure, and he pressed his lips together. “So… Gwen, huh? That’s a beautiful name. It suits you.”

She was not prepared for the way it would feel to hear her name from his exquisite lips.

The front of her flip-flop rolled, and she stumbled forward with a cry and a flail before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he assured. He stared down at her fondly as she sheltered in the shade of his wide shoulders. Slowly, a smirk crept onto his lips. “Last time, you said it was the heels and you were a sandals girl. What’s your excuse today?”

“I’m clumsy, okay.”

“For everyone or just for me?” he teased. He leaned down, his lips to her hair, and added, “It’s okay if you say just for me. I’m kind of hoping for it.”

Gwen looked up into those brown eyes. The night had brought out their smoky depths, but the day brought out their playful hickory dimensions. So, too, had the merciless sun illuminated the finest spray of freckles dappling his cheek to puffy cheek, to devastating consequence.

“Maybe I’d admit it if I even knew who you were,” she said.

He stopped, and she stopped, too. Gwen looked at him with nervous eyes and an even more skittish heart.

She could forgive herself for all her stupid mistakes if it meant she could just get it right this one time…

Please. Just this once…

He lifted his head, caught her gaze, and closed the gap between them with one big step.

“In that case…”

Slowly, he bent down as his large hands gripped her cheeks, and just as his lips grazed hers gentler than the sea breeze, he spoke.

“So nice to finally meet you, Gwen. I’m Hyungwon.”

A/N: I know, I know. The muse obviously tried to turn this into a whole rom-com novel, but instead, I remained resolute to close this on the whimsical romantic open ending I originally intended. It got too out-of-hand as it was, if you couldn’t tell lol, so let your own romantic hearts take it from here, loves. <3 Thanks for reading!

[st4rshiptr00per]

ok heres a chunk from my seven + ace au rewrite whatever thing of midnight. i write sooooo rarely. yay

The doors of the TARDIS hummed open and a delicious, air-conditioned humidity flooded in. Ace shucked her anorak onto one of the console room chairs before stepping out, taking deep lungfulls of the chlorine-scented air. “We’re in some posh hotel in Miami, aren’t we?” “Not Miami.” said the Doctor, locking the door behind them. Ace turned a full circle, hunting for clues. She bounced a bit on the balls of her feet, took a deeper, slower breath in through her nose. “Not Miami,” she repeated, “Gravity’s too high for Earth. Ooh!” she grinned at him over her shoulder, “And the air’s got a little bit of that chemical-y fake-fresh scent in it, so it must be recycled. We’re on a galaxy-cruiser or something, right?” “Very well done,” said the Doctor, beaming. “Ace! I’m gettin’ good at this.” “But this isn’t a cruise ship.” Ace frowned. The Doctor ambled down the corridor a few steps, towards a neat armchair and side table set up against the fresh-laundry-colored wall “The gravity is stronger than Earth’s, and the air is certainly recycled, but we’re on the surface of a planet. There isn’t any atmosphere outside; the hotel itself was prefabricated and lowered piece by piece from orbit, then put together by remote-operated constructors.” “Alright,” Ace said, “How’d you figure all that out, then?” He passed her a logoed pamphlet from the side table. “Brochure.”

A set of plaques at a hallway junction indicated the directions of the foyer, restaurant, lifts, and the spa and pool. Ace swatted the doctor’s shoulder. “C’mon, I want to see the pool.” “We have our own pool,” he said, “and you hardly ever swim in it!” “I know, but this is a hotel pool.”

Through the dome of the sunroof a distant blue star spilled light onto the pool waves, casting blue shimmers all around the room. People lounged on beach chairs, soaking it up. Others, waiters, came in and out of the spa entrance with drinks on trays, dodging expertly the overhanging leaves of tropical plants. The whole thing was ringed by tall windows that showed a gleaming landscape — crystals in blues and greens sprouting up from the ground, diamond-white bluffs and spires reaching to the blue-black sky, rainbows refracting crazily through everything like spilled gemstones. Ace muttered a series of expletives that would’ve made the Doctor shake their head if they weren’t too busy smiling. She jogged around the circumference of the pool, getting askance looks from several sunbathers, to get a closer look at the crystalline vista. As she approached the window something shifted. Once she was within a few feet of it suddenly the view seemed to flatten, like she’d looked from the wrong angle and an optical illusion had broken. “It’s just a screen!” “I’m afraid so,” said the Doctor soberly. They pulled the brochure out of their pocket, flipping to the back page and the final paragraph, in a much smaller font, which contained phrases like ‘For the safety of our guests’, ‘ultra-realistic simulated environment’, and ‘heavy radiation shielding’. “This planet’s star sheds a form of exotic radiation, as well as deadly levels of ultraviolet light. It’s only safe when filtered through the highest rating of radiation-filtering glass-plex, and even then not for more than a few minutes, which would make it exceptionally bad for sunbathing.” “So I’m guessing these fake windows have UV lights in them so you can still work on your tan without having to crisp up like a slug on hot pavement, then.” “Precisely.” Ace leaned back against the backdrop, staring around at the guests. “All these people flew who-knows-how-far and payed who-knows-how-much so they could pretend to be in a tropical paradise that doesn’t even exist. You could get the same holiday experience with a light-therapy lamp and a travel documentary.” The Doctor leaned next to her. A passing waiter gave them a tight smile and he tipped his hat in return. “Oh, the planet outside really does look like that. Minus a smidgen of color correction to keep with the interior design scheme.” “That’s almost worse.” He chuckled. “I think it’s charming. Humans are so drawn to a mystery, they’ll push the bounds of whats possible just for the chance to stand near it. Here we are, at the very edge of human existence -- and the drinks are complimentary.” “I suppose.”

[snifflesthemouse]

[amitojsinghblog]

Former property manager Jason Levy in prison for grand theft

Former International Village Property Manager Jason J. Levy, who was fired by the Board of Directors last April for gross misconduct along with the association’s former management company American Management Group (AMG), has pleaded guilty to first-degree felony grand theft and money laundering charges for embezzling more than $1.5 million from Dezer Hotel Corporation, a Miami Beach-based hotel chain that he managed before coming to International Village. Mr. Levy was booked into a Miami-Dade County jail last month and was transferred to a state prison facility on December 29.

The embezzlement scheme for which Mr. Levy was convicted was carried out over a four-year period from about 2005 to 2009, during which he created fraudulent company invoices for purchases or work that never took place and then pocketed the money for himself. After being fired and sued by Dezer Hotel and arrested and charged by the state, Mr. Levy filed for bankruptcy in an attempt to avoid paying back what he had stolen.

In 2012, despite being under criminal prosecution, and despite the overwhelming evidence of his guilt, Mr. Levy was hired by AMG and the previous Board of Directors to serve as International Village’s property manager. And unfortunately, though not surprisingly, Mr. Levy’s crooked habits continued unabated during his two years here.

But when the current Board of Directors fired Mr. Levy and AMG last April for the reasons I explained in my April 16, 2014 blog post, we had no idea just how far his fraudulent activities went. Since that time, our search and review of the association’s records has revealed that Mr. Levy, while managing International Village, engaged in an embezzlement scheme similar to what he was convicted for in the Dezer Hotel case, in addition to other misconduct designed to defraud the association of hundreds of thousands of dollars. Amazingly, some of these activities took place with the full knowledge and cooperation of at least one former Board member, which I will elaborate on in a future email/blog post. The Board of Directors has been in consultation with legal counsel about this serious matter and we are taking the appropriate steps.

Among the questions that need asking: Why was Mr. Levy hired by AMG despite being under felony prosecution for embezzlement? Why did the previous Board of Directors under former Board Presidents Marvin Tow and Charles Fitzpatrick hire AMG (in a secret March 2012 meeting that was improperly closed to unit owners) without conducting a simple background check on the company or its candidate for property manager, in gross violation of their fiduciary responsibilities? And how much did former Board members know about and participate in the fraud and misconduct that took place while AMG and Mr. Levy were managing International Village?

It is rumored that Mr. Tow, who was soundly defeated for reelection last year, has decided to run for the Board again this year, with the apparent goal of rehiring AMG. After all, bringing back AMG – despite their obvious wrongdoing – has been Mr. Tow’s mantra since the company’s contract was terminated. He even started a pro-AMG blog to praise the company and Mr. Levy (describing him as “exceptionally talented”) and to attack the current Board for firing them. When AMG vindictively sued me for doing my duty as a Director to expose the misconduct that led to their firing, Mr. Tow cheered and claimed that AMG’s bogus lawsuit (which it has since dropped) was “personal,” and just last week he repeated his defamatory lie that the association had paid for my “personal legal bills,” despite knowing that the association’s insurance carrier covered my defense in the case as it was obligated to do because it dealt with association matters.

Marvin Tow, let me make this perfectly clear: I’m proud of my role in helping International Village rid itself of AMG and Mr. Levy by blowing the whistle on their malfeasance. Getting rid of these crooks has saved the association more than a million dollars over the last year (as I have previously reported), and I would gladly do the same all over again – lawsuit or not. I’m not intimidated by AMG and its tiny but vocal corps of defenders, and I’m certainly not afraid of you. Should you decide to run for the Board, let me also put you on notice that your unwavering support of a now convicted felon and the company that hired and continued to defend him to the bitter end will certainly be made an issue in this campaign. Your complicity and cooperation in some of the fraudulent activities that AMG and Mr. Levy engaged in while you served as Board President also will be an issue.

[reviewtimess]

Former property manager Jason Levy in prison for grand theft

Former International Village Property Manager Jason J. Levy, who was fired by the Board of Directors last April for gross misconduct along with the association’s former management company American Management Group (AMG), has pleaded guilty to first-degree felony grand theft and money laundering charges for embezzling more than $1.5 million from Dezer Hotel Corporation, a Miami Beach-based hotel chain that he managed before coming to International Village. Mr. Levy was booked into a Miami-Dade County jail last month and was transferred to a state prison facility on December 29. (See recent prison photo.)

The embezzlement scheme for which Mr. Levy was convicted was carried out over a four-year period from about 2005 to 2009, during which he created fraudulent company invoices for purchases or work that never took place and then pocketed the money for himself. After being fired and sued by Dezer Hotel and arrested and charged by the state, Mr. Levy filed for bankruptcy in an attempt to avoid paying back what he had stolen.

In 2012, despite being under criminal prosecution, and despite the overwhelming evidence of his guilt, Mr. Levy was hired by AMG and the previous Board of Directors to serve as International Village’s property manager. And unfortunately, though not surprisingly, Mr. Levy’s crooked habits continued unabated during his two years here.

But when the current Board of Directors fired Mr. Levy and AMG last April for the reasons I explained in my April 16, 2014 blog post, we had no idea just how far his fraudulent activities went. Since that time, our search and review of the association’s records has revealed that Mr. Levy, while managing International Village, engaged in an embezzlement scheme similar to what he was convicted for in the Dezer Hotel case, in addition to other misconduct designed to defraud the association of hundreds of thousands of dollars. Amazingly, some of these activities took place with the full knowledge and cooperation of at least one former Board member, which I will elaborate on in a future email/blog post. The Board of Directors has been in consultation with legal counsel about this serious matter and we are taking the appropriate steps.

Among the questions that need asking: Why was Mr. Levy hired by AMG despite being under felony prosecution for embezzlement? Why did the previous Board of Directors under former Board Presidents Marvin Tow and Charles Fitzpatrick hire AMG (in a secret March 2012 meeting that was improperly closed to unit owners) without conducting a simple background check on the company or its candidate for property manager, in gross violation of their fiduciary responsibilities? And how much did former Board members know about and participate in the fraud and misconduct that took place while AMG and Mr. Levy were managing International Village?

It is rumored that Mr. Tow, who was soundly defeated for reelection last year, has decided to run for the Board again this year, with the apparent goal of rehiring AMG. After all, bringing back AMG – despite their obvious wrongdoing – has been Mr. Tow’s mantra since the company’s contract was terminated. He even started a pro-AMG blog to praise the company and Mr. Levy (describing him as “exceptionally talented”) and to attack the current Board for firing them. When AMG vindictively sued me for doing my duty as a Director to expose the misconduct that led to their firing, Mr. Tow cheered and claimed that AMG’s bogus lawsuit (which it has since dropped) was “personal,” and just last week he repeated his defamatory lie that the association had paid for my “personal legal bills,” despite knowing that the association’s insurance carrier covered my defense in the case as it was obligated to do because it dealt with association matters.

Marvin Tow, let me make this perfectly clear: I’m proud of my role in helping International Village rid itself of AMG and Mr. Levy by blowing the whistle on their malfeasance. Getting rid of these crooks has saved the association more than a million dollars over the last year (as I have previously reported), and I would gladly do the same all over again – lawsuit or not. I’m not intimidated by AMG and its tiny but vocal corps of defenders, and I’m certainly not afraid of you. Should you decide to run for the Board, let me also put you on notice that your unwavering support of a now convicted felon and the company that hired and continued to defend him to the bitter end will certainly be made an issue in this campaign. Your complicity and cooperation in some of the fraudulent activities that AMG and Mr. Levy engaged in while you served as Board President also will be an issue.

Steven Miley

[suite05finder]

Salon Suite Rental: A Guide to Pricing and Budgeting

In the vibrant city of Miami, the beauty industry is thriving, and many professionals are opting for a more independent path by renting salon suites. If you’re considering joining this growing trend and searching for salon suites for rent in Miami, understanding pricing and budgeting is crucial for your success. This guide will help you navigate the financial aspects of renting a salon suite in Miami FL, ensuring that you make informed decisions that align with your business goals.

Understanding the Costs of Renting a Salon Suite

The cost of renting a salon suite in Miami can vary significantly based on several factors, including location, size, amenities, and the specific salon suite community you choose. Typically, you can expect to pay anywhere from $500 to $2,000 per month. Here are the primary components that affect pricing:

Location: Areas like South Beach or Downtown Miami might have higher rental prices due to their popularity and foot traffic. In contrast, suites in suburban areas may offer more affordable rates.

Size and Layout: Larger suites with more space to accommodate additional services (like massage chairs, styling stations, or nail stations) generally cost more. Assess your needs to determine the appropriate size for your suite.

Amenities: Some salon suites come fully equipped with furniture, lighting, and decor, while others may require you to bring your own. Suites with additional features like a break room, receptionist services, or advanced equipment can have higher rental prices.

Lease Terms: Many salon suite providers offer flexible lease options ranging from month-to-month agreements to annual leases. Shorter leases may have a higher monthly rate but can be beneficial if you’re unsure about your long-term plans.

Budgeting for Additional Expenses

When renting a salon suite, it's essential to look beyond the monthly rent and consider additional expenses that will impact your overall budget:

Utilities: Some rental agreements include utilities like water, electricity, and Wi-Fi, while others do not. Clarify this upfront to avoid surprises in your monthly expenses.

Supplies and Inventory: As an independent beauty professional, you’ll need to stock up on products and supplies to serve your clients. Estimate your monthly spending based on the services you offer and create a list of essential items.

Insurance: Professional liability insurance is vital for salon suite owners. This cost can vary, but budgeting for insurance will help protect your business and personal assets.

Marketing and Promotion: To attract clients, invest in marketing your new salon suite. This could include creating a website, social media marketing, or local advertising. Allocate funds for promotional efforts, especially in your first few months.

Setting Your Pricing Strategy

Once you’ve established your budget, the next step is to determine your pricing strategy for services. Here are some tips to help you price your offerings effectively:

Research Competitors: Look at what other beauty professionals in your area charge for similar services. This information will give you insight into market rates and help you position your prices competitively.

Factor in Costs: Ensure that your pricing covers not only your costs but also provides a profit margin. Consider all expenses, including rent, supplies, and marketing.

Offer Packages: Consider offering service packages or membership options to encourage repeat business and client loyalty. This approach can help stabilize your income.

Conclusion

Renting a salon suite in Miami can be a rewarding venture, providing the freedom and flexibility to build your brand. By understanding the pricing structure, budgeting for additional expenses, and setting a strategic pricing plan, you can ensure that your salon suite business thrives in this bustling city. Whether you're looking for salon suites for rent in Miami FL careful planning and budgeting will set the foundation for your success.

[imaginexwwe]

SPRING BREAK - Roman Reigns

Just a little idea of mines 💡

•

IT ONLY TOOK 1 WEEK IN 2015 TO TURN Y|N'S LIFE UP SIDE DOWN

•

"Y|N," I heard my name being called by my out of breath bestfriend as she came running back to where I was laid out on my beach towel. "Y|N." She repeated a second time after I had ignored her when she first called out to me.

I groaned silently, taking my shades off. "What, Tori?" I asked, propping myself up slightly on my elbows. "Why are you breathing so I hard?" I again asked, squinting my eyes, partly because of this bright ass Miami sun and partly because of Tori's huffing.

I mean she's breating so hard, you'd think she'd just ran a marathon or something.

Before answering me, Tori grabbed at her half drunked water bottle, taking a long sip, holding up a finger.

"Damn," She said once she had put the water bottle down. "I needed that. Like you don't even know." Tori added, a giggle escaping her lips. "It's hot."

"And you were just running like you stole something." I replied with a giggle of my own. "Or someone was after you."

Tori shook her head. "No, no one was after me," She began explaining, a smirk forming on her face. "But I did meet this guy at the bar and I invited him back to the house tonight."

Is she serious?

We've been in Miami for less than a day and she's already picking up guys at a bar and inviting him to the house.

Correction, my dad and step mom's beach house.

"Can't you just go back to his place or something?" I asked, with a sigh. "I really don't feel like spending my first day or any day of spring break listening to you moaning out some random dude's name. Plus my dad will kill me if they knew I had a guy in the house. You know how strict that man is."

Tori shrugged, looking around at nothing is particular. "Do you see your dad here?"

"No..."

"Me either," Tori said, with a sigh of her own, the only difference between hers and mines, was that hers was more of a happy kind of sigh. "And you won't have to listen to me moaning out," She paused all of a sudden as if she was thinking. "Fuck, I forgot his name." She laughed as she leaned back on her towel. "But whatever, you won't be focused on me and the possibility of me moaning my guy's name because he promised to bring his friend so you'd have a guy who's name you could moan."

I shot a glare over at her. "I'm not fucking some random dude," I gasped out. "He could look like Pennywise for all I know."

"Okay, one," Tori replied, holding up a finger again. "I'm sure he's hot as fuck, cause the guy I invited back is hot as fuck and hot as fuck people tend to run in the same circles." She said making me almost choke on the coke I had just swallowed.

Did she have to say fuck so many times in one sentence?

"And two," Tori spoke up again, after giving me a moment ti calm down from my coughing fit. "If he did look like Pennywise, I won't let him in."

I nodded, leaning back down on my beach towel. "Better not." I playfully threatened, as I slid my shades back on.

"Oh and I'm not saying this will come up," I heard Tori once again speak up. "But if it does..." She did one of her dramatic pauses as her voice slowly trailed off. "Tell him you're twenty one."

The fuck?

"Why?" I gasped out, not getting an answer from Tori. "How old are these guys, Tori?" I immediately questioned again, still not getting an answer. "How old are they?"

"Bitch," Tori laughed, flicking a small amount of sand onto my leg. "Just do it."

I shook my head, brushing the sand off my leg.

I knew this wouldn't just be a relaxing girls week.

The thing I didn't know is how crazy our last week of spring break 2011 would be.

•

THAT NIGHT

•

"Oh, god," Tori, exclaimed bursting in to my room, as I stood in the mirror. "I am so jealous of your guy."

I bit at the inside of my cheek, overlooking everything about my appearance from my make up, to the dress I was wearing. "Should I have gone with the tight fitted dress instead of the loose one I have on?" I mumbled, not having heard anything she'd just said.

Tori reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me away from my mirror. "Y|N, you're gorgeous, tight dress or no tight dress." She responded, placing her hands on my shoulders giving me a slight shake. "But did you hear what I said about my guys friend?"

"No..?"

Tori squealed, bouncing slightly as she still had her grip on my shoulders. "The man's so sexy, he'd make you orgasm just by looking at you." She said, causing me to give her a look.

"So did you?"

Tori, furrowed her eyebrows at me, tilting her head. "Did he what?" She questioned.

I huffed. "Did he make you orgasm when he looked at you?" I asked, just barely able to hold my laughter in as I realized how extremely ridiculous Tori's words sounded coming from my mouth.

"Nope," She pouted. "He didn't look at me. But I know what I'm talking about." Tori added, once again grabbing my arm. "C'mon, before you find something else to over analyze."

I sighed, allowing my bestfriend to lead me downstairs and into the area of the house where the guys were at, which I guess you could call it the game room or whatever.

I mean it has a pool table in the center so...

"Guys, this is Y|N," Tori said loudly, getting the two guys attention. "The person who owns this house, so if you fuck something up she'll fuck you up and I'll help." She spoke again, causing me to bite down on my lip in attempt to keep from laughing.

There was no way in hell, my five foot, three inches ass, and Tori's five foot four inches ass was beating these muscular men.

But I guess we'll have to try since Tori's put it out there.

"Y|N," Tori's voice rang in my ears, snapping me from my thoughts. "This is Chaz," She said, continuing her introductions, and even though she said Chaz, her eyes and his reaction seemed to say that she had gotten his name wrong. "And this is Joseph." She added, nudging me, I guess to let me know that was the friend who's here for me.

Damn, I thought.

Tori was not wrong about him.

"You could just call me Joe." Joseph, I mean, Joe said taking a few steps closer to Tori and I, his hand outstretched to me.

"Excuse me," Tori giggled, a bit sarcastically. "He's just Joe."

I nodded, ignoring Tori as I reached out to take Joe's hand. "Y|N." I replied, mentally cursing at myself for saying my name again, after Tori had just announced it literally thirty seconds ago.

"Nice to meet you, Y|N." Joe responded, flashing a bright smile to me.

If his gaze wasn't enough to make a pool down there, his smile definitely would get the job done.

"And I'm Chad." Tori's guy from the bar cleared his throat as I continued to have this weird moment with Joe, my hand still in his. "Not Chaz."

I slowly pulled my hand away from Joe's, about to respond to Chad only to be interrupted by Tori as she turned on some music from her phone.

"Enough with the names." Tori groaned, turning the music up even more than it already was. "Let's do shots!" She shouted bringing over a bottle of Hennessy, placing it down on the pool table to go over and search for shot glasses.

The fuck did that come from?

"Tori," I gasped, the second she came back to the group with the shot glasses and a bottle of coke, I'm guessing to chase the liquor with. "Where did you get this?" I asked, glaring at her as she gave me a look.

"From the bar downstairs." She said through clenched teeth, before forcing out a quick laugh. "Forgot you had it?" She asked, playing off my question with one of her own.

I guess not to bring suspicion to the guys or our age.

She did say to tell them we were twenty one if the question came up.

I forced out a laugh of my own. "Right..." I trailed off. "I guess I forgot I had that considering I'm more of a wine drinker than a Hennessy drinker."

Tori mumbled a barely audible, "mhm..." as she began pouring the brown liquid into the miniature glasses, handing them out to the four of us. "To spring break twenty eleven and to new friends."

Ugh, my dad's gonna kill me whenever he does come back here, and sees his liquor's missing.

But maybe he won't notice.

Maybe.

"To spring break twenty fifteen and new friends." I repeated after Tori, Joe, and Chad, throwing my head back and downing my shot in one gulp.

Fuck that burns, I thought to myself as the brown liquor quickly made it's way down my throat, then almost instantly threatened to come back up.

"Take a sip of this." I heard Joe say, as he reached out to me, passing me a plastic red cup. "It'll help it stay down." He added, a smirk now replacing his smile.

And even though he was smirking, it wasn't a sneaky smirk where I felt worried.

It was more of a proud smirk, I that makes since.

I took the red plastic cup, feeling the coldness from the coke soothing the burn that the Hennessy left behind. "How did you know I needed this?" I asked, just knowing my cheeks were red from embarrassment.

"The look you made was similar to the one I made when I had my first taste of Hennessy." He explained, with a chuckle. "Then I discovered it was easier with a chaser."

I nodded, biting at the inside of my cheek. "But I didn't see you chasing it." I replied, noticing Joe had only poured me a bit of coke, and none for himself. "And you definitely don't look like someone who's fighting to keep it down."

Joe again chuckled. "I'm used to it."

"Oh, well," I said, bringing my hand up to twirl a piece of hair that fell in my face. "Like I said, this isn't my go to."

"I know," Joe replied, coming a little closer, reaching out to tuck the piece of hair I was just twirling behind my ear. "You're more of a wine person."

"Exactly." I whispered, suddenly unable to tear my eyes from his.

•

It was now a little while into the party, the music from Tori's phone was blasting even louder and she had taken Chad up to the room she was staying in while we were here.

I was a couple more shots of Hennessy in and had finally built up enough liquid courage, as they say, to lean in for a kiss from Joe while he stood between my legs as I sat on top of the pool table.

After a few seconds of sloppily making out, I slowly pulled away, breathlessly, giggling at the smeared lipstick I left on him. "I got lipstick on you." I said, running my thumb along his lips trying to wipe as much off as I could.

"I don't care." Joe quickly replied, sticking his tongue out just enough for it to brush against my thumb, before bringing his face down to the my neck, almost immediately finding my sweet spot.

A soft moan escaped from my mouth as I bit down on my lips. "Mmm..." I mumbled, enjoying the feeling of Joe's lips on my neck. "Wanna move over to the couch?" I finally was able to ask, before letting out yet another moan.

Joe pulled away from my neck, lifting me up from my spot on the pool table, and over to the couch and the second he made contact with the leather couch, I pushed him back, allowing myself to be on top.

I leaned down, reconnecting my lips with his, my hair falling around us while our tongues fought for dominance.

His hands slowly traveled up into my dress, stopping at my butt, as he pushed me even closer into him.

It was like my body now had a mind of its own as my hips began to rotate on top of the buldge that was now poking through his jeans.

The feeling of him pressing up against me giving me a sensation I don't think I've ever felt with any of the other guys I've been with in the past.

What is it about this man?

But as fast as the feeling had started, it stopped when I heard my bestfriend's voice getting closer and closer.

"I promise I wasn't squinting at your dick, Chaz," I heard her say, as I glanced down at the man underneath me. "It was something in my eye, that's all." Tori spoke again, her voice and footsteps now sounding like they were right outside the room Joe and I were I'm.

A loud scoff was heard, followed by Joe's friend's voice. "Oh, something just so happened to irritate your eyes the second I took my boxers off, Tori?"

Feeling a laugh coming, I immediately clasped my hand over my mouth.

"It was a coincidence." Tori replied.

"Joe..?" Chad could be heard calling out, seemingly ignoring Tori's previous statement. "Joe?" I heard him call again, before eventually coming into the room where Joe and I were. Tori following closely behind. "Ready to go?"

Joe shook his head, a frown forming on his face as he looked from his friend to me. "Do I look ready to go?" He sarcastically asked, motioning to me as I sat comfortably on his lap.

"But dude, you drove." Chad mumbled, awkwardly standing in the doorway, eventually letting out a sigh when he realized Joe had zero intention in leaving right now. "Fine, I'll just walk." He said, turning around, almost bumping into Tori as she made her way into the room. "And for the last time, my name's Chad not Chaz." He told her before disappearing out the room, and eventually out the beach house.

"Whatever," Tori said smirking as she walked over to the couch me and Joe was currently occupying. "Looks like it's just the three of us." She added, squeezing in the narrow space that was left on the couch.

I pouted, leaning my head down to reat on Joe's chest for a second before bringing it back up, glaring at my bestfriend. "Seriously Tori?"

"What?" She asked back, pretending to be clueless as to why I was quickly becoming frustrated with her.

I rolled my eyes, looking down at Joe.

Lust was very much evident in his eyes, as I'm sure it was in mines.

Was I really gonna let her ruin the mood between me and him?

Fuck no, I mentally answered myself before I quickly stood up, extending a hand to Joe as he looked slightly confused.

"Let's go upstairs to my room." I said, quickly pecking his lips.

The taller and much bigger man nodded silently as he held onto my hand and allowed me to lead him upstairs.

I don't know what had gotten into me.

Maybe it was the few shots of Hennessy.

Maybe it was the sexy stranger I'd come to know as Joe.

Or maybe both.

But whatever it was, I knew I wasn't ready for the night to end.

Not yet, anyway.

"Don't forget to use a condom!" Tori yelled put as we made our way up the stairs.

•

PART 2

[imtooscaredforthis]

Entrapment

Ghostface x Reader

Chapter one: Secratary-In-Training

Mentions of: Anxiety, A Slightly Creepy Boss, and none really

A/N: A NEW GHOSTFACE X READER? YEAH BABYYY! I’VE BEEN SO EXCITED AND ITS FINALLY HEREEE But I’m super proud of this and stuff so :))))

Tags: @gloomyladyy @froegis @darthwhorecrux

Pacing back and forth, you fidgeted with your hands, trying to decide what to do for what you guessed was the fifth time tonight. It’s a simple question. Do you make that nerve-wracking phone call and possibly wake someone and waste their time? Or do you just go get some rest?

The decision should be clear, and yet, you’ve been hesitating for the past forty-five minutes now. You’d probably be able to make up your mind if you weren’t trapped in this godforsaken bachelor’s pad. You should take a walk. But it’s late at night and your apartment is in a bad neighborhood, damn it.

Groaning, you thread a hand through your tangled hair, before getting to your feet and walking over to the phone. It’s been four days (five in an hour or so) since your interview with The Roseville Gazette. You thought you hit it off with the Editor In Chief, but now, it seems like you were wrong.

You don’t even know what you did. You could’ve sworn he liked you, and the interview went great, from what you could tell. “You know what? Screw it. I’m doing it.”

Pulling the landline off of the hook, you dialed the number, calling him. You twirled the cord with your finger, listening to it ring. It wasn’t long until he picked up, and immediately, you regret it. Your body tenses and your hands get all clammy. You were preparing to leave a voicemail, but not actually face him. What do you do? What do you say?

“Hello?” At least you didn’t wake him. He did sound a little tired, but not to the point where he just woke up.

You almost forgot to speak until you heard him repeat himself and ask who he was speaking with. “Hi, sorry, this is Mr.Jamison, right? My name is _____, if you remember. You interviewed me the other day for that open journalist position.”

You can’t stand how anxious you sounded, your voice shaking slightly, almost as if you were on the verge of tears. “I remember.”

“I was just wondering-”

“Listen, sweetheart. Your writing’s good. You just don’t have the experience that’s required. I’m sorry, but the position is already filled.” He replied, making your stomach drop.

“But I did that Internship at The Palm Beach Post. I don’t have experience because I just graduated. This was going to be my first job, and you could just have someone train me.” You need this job.

Money has been tight, and The Roseville Gazette is the only news source around here, it seems. You can’t afford to move, and there is no way you’re working at some shitty fast food restaurant to stay afloat.

“Please, I‘ll do anything. I don’t even have to work as a journalist. I really need this job sir, please.” Your desperation grew, and you didn’t care how embarrassing this would be, as long as you get a job.

There was a soft sigh on the other line, one that makes some hope flutter in your heart. “Since the current receptionist’s out on maternity leave, the company’s gotten a temporary replacement. She’s been flaky, so I guess I could give you her job for the next couple of months.”

“Thank you, sir. You have no idea how much this means to me.” You gushed, relieved that you got a chance at this.

“Don’t mention it, and don’t call me sir. Come in by nine tomorrow morning for training.” With that, you thanked him and wished him a good night, before hanging up the phone.

Finally, you could relax, knowing that you were making a step towards your future. It was just a baby step, due to the small change of plans, but once you convinced Jamison you would be a good journalist, some good progress could be made.

Patience. You just needed patience. You had plenty of time, and your dream life of being a famous reporter in Miami will come soon enough.

For now, though, you need to get some sleep. You have a long morning ahead.

--

After almost sleeping through your alarm, you managed to get ready and rush off to work. The office is only a couple of blocks away from your apartment, so you walk there. Not that you have a choice though, since you don’t have a car.

The mornings always smell like engine exhaust and wet dew mixed together, due to the wildlife and city overlapping, and the fact that you get to spend so much time walking next to the road or through crosswalks, where someone almost hits you with their car every single time.

While Roseville is urbanized, it’s a small town compared to the huge city you used to live in, so you are used to this sort of thing. The walks, the smells, the shitty drivers, everything.

You managed to make it into the office somewhat on time, at 9:01. The desk that used to be occupied by that sweet old woman who you supposed was the replacement, was now empty, and it seemed like where you would be working, so you set your things down, looking around for Mr.Jamison.

He was in his office, which was just right next to your desk. He popped his head up from behind his monitor, glancing at you, before getting out of his chair and walking over.

If you had to guess, you’d say Mr.Jamison is middle-aged. His hair is a greyish black and is slicked back with some sort of gel, and he sports a bushy mustache to go along with it. Today, he’s wearing a normal white dress shirt with black suspenders and pants, his sleeves rolled back to his elbows, revealing his forearms.

“How are we doing today?” He greeted, putting a hand on your shoulder. You glanced at it for a moment but decided not to think much of it. He’s just being friendly, don’t make it weird. “I’m good, thanks. How are you?”

“I’m doin just fine. Let’s get into this, shall we? Your job is pretty simple, you sit here, answer the phone, transfer calls, fax things, etc. I’ll help walk you through some of the jobs you have here.”

And so began your training, with Mr.Jamison showing you self-explanatory tasks that you already know how to do. You know how to use a monitor, you know how to use a fax machine, and you know how to use a phone. He should know that too, considering you put it in your resume and told him just last night.

You tried not to seem too annoyed about it, saying a few small, “I know”s or a “Yeah, I’ve done that before.” But he didn’t seem to get it.

--

Rachel chuckled to herself lowly as she peeked through the blinds of the breakroom. “Jed, Jed, check this out.”

Getting her partner’s attention, she motioned for him to walk over to her. He did as told, looking through the blinds and seeing a rather young woman talking with his boss. “What happened to Ronny?”

“Oh, you know how Jamison is. He likes his secretaries young and dumb. I told you that poor old lady wouldn’t last long. I wonder how long she will, though.” She murmured, and Jed couldn’t help but wonder the same thing.

[binickimaging]

Step and Repeat Miami Beach | Binick Imaging

Binick Imaging creates premium step and repeat in Miami Beach for events, galas & brand promotions. Elevate your next big occasion with custom backdrops with razor-sharp logos. Call Now - 786-420-2067 Explore More - https://www.binickimaging.com/step-and-repeats/

[violetmuses]

Safe Haven - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Title: Safe Haven - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Armando Aretas meets you for the very first time after escaping law enforcement. @deja-r @probablyintensemuses 🏷

====

2024

Brackish air continued greeting every single corner when Armando Aretas discovered this beachfront home located steps from the ocean.

His motorboat capped for good, but two oars set just in case. Given no other choice, Aretas rowed through exertion until this moment happened.

Using more strength to keep surviving, he pushed that motorboat out from sea and grounded this vessel near sand, dumping the oars with his spot.

Limping through each step, Armando barely reaches that front door of this unknown place and feels exhausted for the first time in quite a while.

Seeing the doorbell, his bloodied finger pressed the chime and its own sound brought melodies that could hopefully wake someone up tonight.

For once, I need help. Aretas thought, genuinely nervous.

Interior lights brightened through the gorgeous house at last. Armando sighs relief as this silhouette moves closer and closer up front.

“Oh my…” The door nearly swings open when you realize what's going on.

You know exactly who is bleeding on your doorstep tonight.

Dangerous criminal and fugitive Armando Aretas showed up out of nowhere.

“Hey, hey! It looks bad right now, but please don't be scared. I won't hurt you, okay?” Armando lifted both gloved hands through complete surrender.

“The news...” Your voice continued trembling with so much fear. Headlines warned about this dangerous man over and over again.

“I know, I know, but please…” Armando nearly stammered to repeat himself.

As Armando still wears this tactical uniform from battling James McGrath, his knees buckle against the bridged porch steps, and your heart drops.

Drying blood painted your entry scarlet red when Aretas fell down and curled his own weakened body, devastatingly injured at this point.

“I'm right here. Grab my hands!” You knelt toward his eye level in an effort to reach out before Armando could lose immediate consciousness.

By some miracle, Armando kept using strength to pull himself back up. You then help Aretas enter the house and hobble right beside this stranger.

Your own sense of kindness refused to watch him die.

______

The First-Aid kit and other essentials salvaged wounds as Armando took up space on your couch.

“Mission?” You offered this possibility while finishing up.

“Yeah, we…” Armando struggles through slightly accented English while the injuries persist. “Shit!”

“Sorry.” You've apologized to this man during every single painful moment.

“It's okay, baby…” Armando slips the endearment, but your thoughts don't even notice what happened.

You just wanted his pain to settle down.

____

Sitting with Armando for this late-night meal, you both stay in the living room for obvious reasons.

“Is your motorboat waiting on the beach?” You still questioned the situation once Aretas explained what happened with Miami's AMMO squad.

“Mmm-hmm.” Shirtless for bandages while taking careful bites, Armando nodded. “No more fuel.”

“Where are you going?” You have no clue where his destination stands.

“I don't know.” Aretas clenched his teeth while sitting up for a moment.

“Stay here.” Your words cautioned. “You can't risk leaving in daylight anymore.”

“You sure?” Armando squinted.

“Yes.” You reveal this smile and hope to protect him.

No matter what happens next, you want to offer peace.

[gagosiangallery]

Gagosian to Present New Works by Jennifer Guidi at Frieze London

October 7, 2021

Gagosian Announces Infinite Waves Solo Presentation of New Works by Jennifer Guidi at Frieze London October 13–17, 2021

LONDON, October 7, 2021—Gagosian is pleased to announce a solo presentation of new works by Jennifer Guidi at Frieze London 2021. Titled Infinite Waves, it brings together nine paintings and nine works on paper that take inspiration from nature and the essential role it has played during the pandemic. Infinite Waves will be on view at the fair, and a selection of the works will be available online in the Frieze Viewing Room and on the Gagosian website from October 13 to 17. The new paintings come from a body of work called Painted Universe Mandalas, in which Guidi covers the raw linen canvas with an even coat of sand. The trowel used for application leaves behind lines that form an initial layer of repeated pattern and texture. The second layer is a painted ground of thin oil washes and line drawings. In these new works, Guidi approaches the grounds in a new way, thinking of each as its own impressionistic landscape painting, drawing from the work of Claude Monet and Pierre Bonnard. The final step in the process is painting the marks of the mandala, unifying the layers, and activating the colors to create the optical vibration felt when one stands in front of the works. Each painting is both an independent meditation on color and energy as well as part of a larger whole. Guidi chose the top mandala colors based on how they would interact with each other within the installation, having selected the underlying colors intuitively for how they would react with the surface. Guidi notes that through this process she was “searching for a way to have a freeing part of the overall structure.” Guidi has employed a similar approach at a more intimate scale for the group of works on paper. The series was conceived alongside the paintings and plays an important role in the overall installation of Infinite Waves. The source of Guidi’s inspiration for these new works was nature and the challenge of capturing its ever-changing light and color. “They are about creating space and mood through color,” she notes. “I think of them as a celebration of life after a dark time—a dark time of the pandemic where nature was a main source of consolation.” Jennifer Guidi was born in 1972 in Redondo Beach, California, and lives and works in Los Angeles. Collections include the Hammer Museum, Los Angeles; Marciano Art Foundation, Los Angeles; Rubell Family Collection, Miami; and Sammlung Goetz, Munich. Exhibitions include Field Paintings, LAXART, Los Angeles; Visible Light/Luce Visibile, Museo d’Arte Contemporanea di Villa Croce, Genoa, Italy (2017); One Day at a Time: Manny Farber and Termite Art, Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles (2018); and From Day to Day, de la Cruz Collection, Miami (2019). To receive a PDF with detailed information on the works, please contact the gallery at inquire@gagosian.com. To attend the fair, purchase tickets at frieze.com. __________ FRIEZE LONDON Booth E3 October 13–17, 2021 Regent’s Park, London _____ Jennifer Guidi, The Radiant Glow of Our Passion Within (Painted Universe Mandala, SF #9E Lavender – Natural Sand, Blue, Green, Yellow, Pink, Red Ground), 2021 (detail), sand, acrylic, and oil on linen, 76 × 58 inches (193 × 147.3 cm) © Jennifer Guidi. Photo: Brica Wilcox

[genevievemd]

The Exception.

A/N: Was this what I should have been writing? No. Did I do it anyway? Yes. Because I have no self control and restarted the books again. Someone take VIP away from me.

Set after chapter 5 of book 2. Ethan finds out that MC (Genevieve) kissed Bryce at the music festival and is heartbroken at the thought that she’s moving on. (Even though she’s not. Bryce is not Ethan and Gen only wants Ethan, despite her best efforts to move on, but he doesn’t know that yet)

Just some angsty longing because that’s all that the beginning of book 2 is and I love exploring Ethan’s side of it since we only get MC’s. 

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Genevieve McClure)

No Warnings, just painful yearning.

Ethan sees her as soon as he rounds the corner. She’s standing at the nurses station, talking animatedly with Dr. Trinh, her green eyes sparkling as she hides a laugh behind her hand. He stops dead in his tracks, and he can feel his anger after the board meeting dissipating at the sight of her - despite her being the cause of that anger.  

She’s wearing the red dress today, the one that brings out the color in her cheeks. It’s one of his favorites, though he’d never dare admit it out loud. He shouldn’t even be having a favorite dress or any thoughts like that about Genevieve in the first place. Not while she’s on his team, and certainly not while he’s her boss. 

But even knowing he shouldn’t, hasn’t stopped his mind from drifting to Gen every spare second of the day. It’s like he’s haunted by her, by the memories of her. Every moment together in the last year plagues his heart and mind. The vision of her in blue in Miami, the way she’d kissed him at the opera house, her hand in his as they watched Naveen leave the hospital. Her in his kitchen, in his bed. Her brief but relieved smile when he went to her ethics hearing, the way she sighed his name in the quiet of her bedroom. 

Every single moment between them plays on repeat, making it harder and harder to stay away. It’s as if deep down he already knows he belongs to her. That every part of him is already branded with her name.

She is all consuming and dangerous and thrilling. 

But, he cares too deeply to jeopardize her development as a doctor by giving in to his desires. No matter how badly he wishes to waltz down the hall and kiss her until they are both out of breath. 

He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about kissing her since the other night. When they sat on the couch in the diagnostics office, close enough where the smell of her perfume took over his senses, and he could see the small freckles on her cheeks. 

It was the closest he’d been to her in weeks, and he can still feel the tremor in his fingers, fighting to keep from touching her. Can still picture the way she looked at him when she so easily brought up the question of marriage, the tilt of her head as she spoke. 

It’s love, Ethan. It doesn’t have to make sense.

That four-letter word has been keeping him up all hours of the night, struggling with the notion that perhaps he was, in fact, in love with Genevieve. That his deep care for her far surpassed the true definition of the word care. 

You don’t long and ache and need someone this adamantly if you only care for them.

Ethan’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t realize Genevieve’s walking towards him until she’s practically in front of him. He quickly looks down at the chart in his hand, trying his best to not look like he was just staring at her like a damned love stricken teen. 

But she doesn’t even notice him, too lost in conversation to realize he’s there. He flicks his eyes up at her and Sienna as they pass in front of him, trying his best to catch a word of their whispered conversation. 

“I still can’t believe you kissed Bryce at the festival.” 

Ethan looks up fully at Sienna’s words, as they cut through him like a knife. Twisting into his heart slowly and excruciatingly. 

He doesn’t hear Genevieve’s reply over the thundering in his ears, his eyes following her down the hall as the air leaves his lungs. 

She was doing exactly what he had feared for weeks. 

Moving on. 

Though it was he who told her that they can’t be together, his decision to reset their relationship, it didn’t stop his heart from breaking right there in the hospital corridor. Logically, Ethan knew it was bound to happen. A woman like Genevieve won’t wait around forever, nor would he want her to. But thinking and knowing she was leaving what was blossoming between them in the past were two completely different things. 

He takes a deep breath before quickly walking back to the diagnostics office. The burning ache in his chest worsening as he imagines losing Genevieve completely. 

She wouldn’t have to hide a relationship with the surgical resident. He’d have to see it, every day. Watch her be happy with someone else, see her smile for someone else, kiss someone else, every damn day. 

All because of him, his rules and the line they couldn’t and shouldn’t cross. 

He swings open the glass door, briskly walking over to his desk and bracing himself against it, head dropping as he closes his eyes. The sheer thought of her falling in love with a man that wasn’t him making his stomach drop and his heart flip. 

The bone deep regret of letting her go washes over him, as he forces the images of Genevieve in the arms of another out of his head.

Ethan takes a deep breath, fighting against the overwhelming urge to run to her. Find wherever she is in the hospital and take her into his arms, profess his - 

He shakes his head, forcing that godforsaken word out of his thoughts. He can’t be in love with her, she’s unobtainable and there’s nothing he can do to change it. 

There’s a knock on the door and Ethan looks up to see the very thing that’s ripping him apart. She’s eying him cautiously like she’s afraid to fully entire the office. Like she’s afraid he’s still angry with her. 

And he is, she went against his wishes and now the team will have to solicit high paying patients but right now the anger no longer seems to matter. Not when she’s all but slipping through his fingers.

Genevieve bites her lip briefly before speaking, a nervous tick of hers that’s entirely too distracting on a normal day, let alone in the very moment he’s trying to keep himself from running to her. 

“Are you okay? You look upset.” Her voice is warm, her eyes full of concern and it twists the knife in deeper.

He could tell her the truth, he should tell her the truth. They’re alone in the office, the hallway is empty - it's the perfect moment to grab her, kiss her and promise to never let her go again. Ethan open’s his mouth to speak but the words die on his tongue. 

He can’t do this, he won’t do this. 

The stakes are too high, the consequences too damning. Logic has to win over the longing in his heart. No matter how much it will break him. 

“Ethan?” She tilts her head, taking a few steps until she’s fully in the office. 

He clears his throat, the air suddenly too thick to breathe, “I’m fine.” He stands up straight and fixing his coat, trying his best to hide the pain that's overtaking him. “Are you done for the night?” 

“Yeah, I just wanted to check in with you before I left.” 

“I have nothing left for you today, so you’re good to go.” 

“Okay.” She gives him an overly cautious smile and it feels like the chasm he’s created between them grows deeper. 

Genevieve turns for the door, but hesitates after a few steps. Her back is facing him, but he can still see her twist her fingers and there’s no doubt in his mind, that if she were to turn around, he would see her brows furrowed and her lips pursed in thought. 

He watches her take a deep breath, and he braces himself for whatever it is that’s about to leave her lips. Perhaps she had noticed him practically lurking in the hall, knows that he overheard her conversation with Sienna and is about to plunge the knife back in. But she says nothing, quickly gathering herself and walking out of the office without a backwards glance. 

Ethan runs a hand down his face as he falls back into the chair, eyeing the spot where she just stood. The intense need to follow her taking over every nerve in his body. He isn’t sure how much longer he can keep himself from her, keep up the fight and pretend like Genevieve isn’t everything he’s ever wanted, everything he needs. Not if he’ll be forced to watch her with Lahela day in and day out. 

The thought alone is enough to send him to his knees and make him want to throw out every rule he’s ever set for himself, consequences be damned. She’s already been the exception to them all since the day they met, so effortlessly and breathtakingly shattering every single one with a smile on her face. 

He’d do anything to see that smile. Hell, he let her use that damn picture of him on the beach for his pictagram because he knew it’d gift him a laugh, let her write Gen is the best as his first post without protest just to see her beaming with joy. 

She’s the exception, one Ethan isn’t sure he’s ready to give up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: Title taken from one of my all time favorite movies, which happens to star Lily James (who is Gen’s FC) so the title was an ode to that. Also because Gen is the exception to all of Ethan’s rules. I hope you enjoyed this baby bit of angst filed longing. I promise to post fluff next. - Sara (I’m gonna go watch The Exception now, i love it so much. I don’t even care that it’s 2 am)

tag list: 

@queencarb, @overwhelminglyaquarius, @me-and-my-choices, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @crazy-loca-blog, @a-crepusculo, @drakewalkerfantasy, @ohchoices, @adrex04, @udishaman, @drariellevalentine​, @custaroonie​, @archxxronrookie​, @terrm9​, @maurine07​, @openheartthot​, @gryffindordaughterofathena​, @aworldoffandoms​, @caseyvalentineramsey​, @dulceghernandez​, @elwetritsche75​, @emotionalswift2, @thegreentwin, @starrystarrytrouble​, @utterlyinevitable​, @angela8754​, @fireycookie​, @sizzlingcashherohumaniod, @jooous​, @3riche, @open-heart-ramseyyy, @iemcpbchoices

LMK if you want to be added or taken off 😊

[kpopchangedme]

Sun-drenched [M] - Youngjae

Every time you opened your mouth something outrageous came out but unfortunately, your new dorky step-brother seemed to be immune. You couldn’t tell if Youngjae was actually that clueless or if your reputation preceded you. 

Protagonists: Choi Youngjae & You

Word Count: 4.6k

Genre: NSFW - Cringe Fest - Smut - slight exhibitionism - f*ckgirl - Stepbrother!au || [One Shot]

[The Pleasure Chest: A Cringe Fest]

GOT7 | M.list

Your mother was doing that thing with her hair again, slightly shaking her head every time her new beau spoke. Every single bob invariably made her blonde curls spring. How disgusting. You had asked to be bleached once, a few years ago, and she had the audacity to claim it would look cheap on you. So unfair. 

She hadn't met her fourth husband for more than 6 months before she did just that. She thought it made her look younger, but Miami-midlife-crisis was more like it. It wasn't pretty wheat blonde, it was white yellow-ish banana buttercream. On-sale daffodil... Much like the sad ones Youngnam had gotten her from the convenience store yesterday.  They were now awaiting certain death in a crystal vase husband-number-two had gotten her for God knows what occasion.

You rolled your eyes when your latest stepfather started going over safety rules again. At your dad's there was never a need for them and if you correctly remembered the last time you had lived with your mom... You smiled, imagining how Dr. Top Surgeon would react if he found out his perfect church-going wife used to pop pills like candy and store a very impressive bong in the third drawer of her kitchen.

That would make for a fun scene. 

The goodbyes seemed to stretch half an eternity in the living room, after which you got dragged to the hall where the speech began all over again. Your mom gave you a short hug, more of a shoulder squeeze, then she pulled back and frowned with intent as much as her botox allowed. You shrugged off her silent don't-screw-this-up warning, already waving goodbye to her husband. Shoo shoo, you thought, sending the adults off to a far far away location. 

As soon as the door shut behind, you squealed in excitement. 

Summer had officially begun! 

Moving half across the country to fake “house sit” their new place while they honeymooned in Boca wasn't exactly what you had scheduled for your vacations. But when Youngnam accidentally let the words infinity pool and cars – as in with an S – slip out during the weekly video call, not even the dread on your mother’s face could’ve deterred you from flying over. 

As it turns out, Dr. Choi was loaded. 

Something you probably would’ve figured out earlier if you’d bothered showing up for the ceremony at all. Unfortunately, the wedding hadn't matched your Spring Break’ schedule and you decided having been present to the many previous ceremonies should be considered enough daughterly care for a lifetime. 

As you bent to the freezer for a celebratory parent-free popsicle, you felt the eyes of that gift-that-came-with-the-house glued to your ass. He briefly glanced down at the flash of your stomach’s skin when you jumped to sit on the counter. 

Surprisingly enough, your mother’s many rings had never once come with a step-brother before...

Usually, she went for the bachelor or womanizer types and those had the decency to never have baggage. Dr. Choi was a break of pattern and the news came with complete horror on your part.

For as long as you could, you had made a duty of never meeting his son, pretended he didn't even exist. So when the bubbly blended trio came to pick you up at the airport yesterday, you had been shocked.

They had said soloist of the local Choir and you’d heard; loser. Piano lessons? Dork. All-boys school graduate? Stuck-up. Computer Science Major? Nerd alert.

No one had talked about… That.

As a matter of fact, Choi Youngjae himself had not spoken much either, but he was certainly looking... 

And there were few things you enjoyed more than having a man's undivided attention.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen in all his glory, your new step-brother was staring, as usual, watching intently as you sucked your popsicle. You made sure to make a show of it.

“So… What about lunch?” He finally asked even though it was barely 9. Just to rattle him you hummed on the sugary treat as a reply. Mission accomplished. “S-Should I order pizza?”

“Don't worry, I’m easy...” Youngjae’s gaze fluttered down to your belly ring again. Boy, if he liked that one he had a few things coming. “I’ll eat anything if it's on you.”

Gaze widening, he pretended to look at something over in the living room and walked away.

Wait no, the poor guy literally bolted out of the kitchen to escape to safety. So fast one could wonder if this whole first exchange was the fruit of your devious imagination.

Oh no, you had just traumatized your babyish step-bro.

It made sense, you were one scary bitch.

All-boys school graduate? Virgin, you mentally took note. 

Or perhaps your mom had said something about you devouring the souls of poor innocent men. They said the apple never fell far from the tree. Grinning like a shark, you discarded the melting popsicle in the trash.

This promised to be one Hell of a summer break. 

______________________

“It’s been more than 10 minutes...” Chimlin flipped the phone over to yell unintelligibly at her demonic baby twin sisters. Despite the protection, you winced. “No DMs.”

“Then he hasn’t seen it yet.” Artlessly reporting for BFF’ duty was a lot more fun face to face, but for a few months, video calls would have to do. “Trust me.”

“I don't know,” she whined, going on all over again about how her boyfriend hadn’t picked up the phone since their nightly routine fight of yesterday. 

Sometimes you wondered if you’d even follow her back on Insta if you met this current sad version of herself. Kinda hard to tell, but she used to be the coolest baddest chick on campus. Then she was partnered with that Italian exchange student for a Statistic class, disgustingly dripping pheromones, cash and European pizzazz. Yes, Statistics. The most boring course ever, let's be real. But Chimlin was a genius, the deadly hot kind. No matter how shit-faced she was, that girl could track the B-52s and Gin Tonics’ calorie count of each respective member of your girl squad, not that she'd ever had to care herself.

Then Massimo came. At first, he was just a casual hook-up, but he managed to worm his way into her brain and grew there like a tumour. By the end of last semester, they were full-on steady-going together like in cringy 90s rom-coms. He was always stuck to her like a parasite.

Gone was your favourite 4 feet 11 party animal.

“Do you have any idea how many bitches Mas could meet this summer?”

You snorted, “Not even close to the number of dicks you could have in Pattaya if you wanted to.”

“Phatthaya,” she corrected automatically with a dramatic eye-roll. “That’s the thing, I don't want to. I only want one dick and he's miles away.” She waved her hand to brush it off right as your mouth opened in protest.

Her Italian barnacle did want to remain with her on campus for summer, but Chimlin thought she had better plans that involved a lot more beaches and fruity drinks. She simply couldn't live with her own poor life choices now and you were just about to tell her so when a flash of skin on the screen distracted you.  

“What else have you been hiding?” You sing-sang, impressed by the view. 

She glanced over her shoulder, “That's my uncle. Like... He’s literally my mom’s lil’ brother. Gross.”

“I know what an uncle is and that's a very hot one if I’ve ever seen one. You can look.”

“We’re not all depraved sluts like you.” She only half-teased with a sharp laugh. “How's the cute new brother doing, by the way?”

“No idea.” You flipped the camera and zoomed on Youngjae's bedroom window like to prove a point. The curtains were drawn, concealing anything worth mentioning from view. You were lounging by the pool on one of those fancy long chairs, much as you had been for the past week. Margarita, sunscreen, repeat. If this boring routine went on, you’d be so tanned by the end of summer no one on campus would recognize you. Sometimes you did think Youngjae's curtains were wobbling, maybe he was spying on you but it could all be your imagination. “Typical. He's been in hiding from me since day one.”

“I don't blame him.”

“Don't blame me for wanting him either. He's a good boy in a bad boy’s body.”

“I don't even know what that means...”

“No one does. But he's not cute, he's hot. I need him all over me and I've been telling him so, but he's strangely elusive. I think he hits the gym above the grocery store on the corner, I should join.”

“Stalker.”

“I don’t stalk, I live in his house.”

“No wonder the poor guy doesn't go out of that room, I bet he picked up on all your slutty energy.” In the rectangle screen, Chimlin switched to tan the other side and you did the same, laying on your back.

“Ha ha. He'd have to be moronic not to,” you were holding the phone above, casting a partial shadow on your face.

“Your legend precedes you. He's scared you're gonna trap and fuck him.”

“What else am I supposed to do when you've abandoned me and flew to the other side of the world? You know I need a summer project.”

“And of course, it had to be a guy.”

You were so glad she stopped whining about Mas for a minute that you let that one slide. “Well, I am not a needlepoint kind-of-girl.”

“Right, hey maybe it isn’t the incest that’s creeping your brother out. Maybe he's gay.”

Someone snorted out loud at that – not you – and you sat up in alarm.

Two guys were standing by the edge of the pool.

“No, he's not,” said the one on the left, a smile in his voice. They were directly in your sun, so you had trouble making out their features. One silhouette was slightly slumped, the other tall and all limbs. You suddenly felt very exposed, dropping Chimlin to fasten your bikini top in a hurry. This show wasn't for strangers to enjoy.

“Who are you?” The second man asked, clearly lost.

“She's it,” the other echoed.

“Who are you? I live here.”

“We're your brother's social life,” the frisky one smiled largely, kind of in a dangerous way that you immediately recognized for your own. Friends, they were Youngjae's friends and they very clearly overheard your embarrassing banter with Chimlin.

Flushing – a rare occurrence – you brought a hand to shield your eyes from the sun while you corrected; “Step-br–”

A sharp voice cut in, “She's not my sister.”

Behind, Youngjae was standing awkwardly by the patio door, a stern look on his face. He didn't seem surprised his people were there. He didn't even glance in your direction before disappearing back as you blankly stared after him. 

“Well, thank fuck,” the you-guy turned to wink, following him inside. “Good luck with your summer project! I’ll root for you!”

In a daze, you picked your phone back up. Chimlin was still there, waiting dilligently to be briefed on what just transpired. You puffed your cheeks, mentally preparing for what was to come.

______________________

Swear to God, Youngjae had not come out of that room for two days.

Two.

Fricking.

Days.

Maybe he had a fridge in there.

Maybe he only came to life after midnight like a vampire to avoid the whore squatting his dad’s house. 

Whatever his annoying friends told him had certainly made a lasting impression. You just hoped he wasn't the type to go cry to parents whenever something happened. You had no intention of going back to your tiny dorm all alone and sad for the summer just because you hurt his feelings by finding him bangable. Or worse, at your father's.

What was he even thinking?

You had not done anything wrong. Pushed a bad joke a little bit too far perhaps, nothing to get all worked up about. No reason to get shunned out of your mother's life again. 

Youngjae's reaction, or lack thereof, was way out of line.

It's not like you had actually done anything to him. He was such a prude. A prude that eye-fucked you all the time!

Church baby boys were the worst.

What an ass.

.

.

.

Three days?!

Three days of an overly empty house. The atmosphere had gotten so heavy, the air so tense you couldn't even think about anything else. There was nothing left to do. Just sit on the couch inside or by that dumb infinity pool, starring at the drawn curtains of your step-brother's bedroom. They weren't wobbling anymore.

Which was what you were actively doing this afternoon, ruminating your dark thoughts for hours. You didn't even notice you were getting dangerously warmer. When your timer went off, announcing it was sunscreen time again you nearly fell from your chair. 

Doing the legs was the easiest part, your favourite to be honest. They were one hell of an asset of yours. You were massaging the thick lotion on your right calf when something at the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

For a heartbeat or two, you thought you were hallucinating. 

Youngjae had finally reappeared. 

He was standing at the end of the pool, a knapsack thrown over his shoulders. His thumbs were hooked in the straps, hands dangling to his sides like dead weights. If he looked like a young boy at first glance, the heated look on his face was one of a man.

Frozen still, you gulped. True to form, he kept staring for a long moment before turning to the house and you thought he was about to go into hiding again – but oh no, fuck – he was actually pacing towards you. 

“I’m back.” Youngjae blurted out awkwardly, mouth twisted. 

Yours was opened in a mix of disbelief and shock. He was actually addressing you. “Back?” From where the corner store?

“Yes,” his eyes ghosted over your poor excuse of a bikini before anchoring themself back to safety in yours. Again, horny eyes. If you were warm earlier, now you were burning up. “I thought it'd be better if I stayed away at Bam's for a few days…”

Right? No one could actually stay between four walls so dilligently. It made sense. You were so dumb.

Apparently, your confusion was evident. “Didn’t you notice I was gone?” No, you had not. So your step-brother was so freaked out being around you that he actually moved out for a few days. Had you gotten that bad? Jesus. “Anyway, I’m back home with you now.” 

Youngjae took a step closer, kindly getting in your light so you'd stop squinting at him. He looked even hotter in the bright light of day, sweat pearled between your breasts. He frowned and bit his lower lip waiting for a reaction. The things you'd do to that perfectly proper mouth. 

Of course, what came out of yours at the moment was less than appropriate. He was right to be scared, you weren't safe at all.

“Wanna do me?”

Yes, you were that bad. Terrible indeed.

“Do I-I,” he gasped for air – oops, “w-what?”

“My back,” you clarified smiling like a prisoner that hadn't been fed a good meal in days, “sunscreen.” The poor man should've stayed far far away from you. 

You weren’t crazy or desperate, but you couldn't resist. You had been patient and unusually upright so far. You deserved a treat. You were hungry and you knew your step-brother wanted you too, he wouldn't have felt the need to hide away otherwise. Youngjae had an interesting duality, shamelessly thirsting over you one minute and getting flustered and embarrassed the next. He must have been deeply unsettled by your open invitation because before you could flip over, he had claimed possession of the bottle. 

Or maybe he just didn't need to be asked twice this time. He knew. He wanted to give in to temptation. Why would he even come back here otherwise? 

Laying down, you reached to undo the bikini strings, pressing your loosely covered chest against the rough towel on the chair. You waited.

“You must really hate tan lines,” Youngjae said in your back, sounding tormented, “it seems you're never properly wearing clothes.” He sat down in slow motion like an obedient little boy as you grinned. 

“Are you ever gonna put your hands on me?” You teased once more, it was like a string was tugging up your insides through that dirty mouth of yours. You wanted to keep pushing him, wanted to find out what it'd take to make him break. And just fuck you really. It was fighting the inevitable by now. 

Every guy you met wanted to have you.

Usually, you didn't have to beg.

“I'm trying not to,” he admitted the obvious. “I promised I would never touch you,” Youngjae grumbled and you jerked in surprise when lotion spurted on your lower back. “Promised my father I’d treat you well.”

It made sense, a good boy would never disobey and do his dirty step-sister. If your legend preceded you, his golden son’s reputation certainly did too. Honestly, this promise made the taunting easier and even more tempting. It made for a funnier challenge and the spark in Youngjae's eyes when he looked at you hinted you could break him if you really tried.

You were about to defy his ethics again when words went back down your throat, letting way to a sharp sigh. He had suddenly fully committed to applying your sunscreen, fingers exploring your skin. You asked to be touched and he had risen to the occasion, firmly rubbing the lotion on your naked back. 

Earlier you had every intention of teasing him further by enjoying this a little too much, but you weren’t sure it was entirely voluntary when the first moan escaped. If he wanted to keep it PG, he probably should’ve stopped right there, but it didn't seem to deter your step-brother. He kept going, massaging you along the way. His thumbs traced circles up your spine until one of his palms cupped your nape. 

Perhaps this is what an erotic massage was supposed to feel like, heaven. Every stroke was totally appropriate, very perfect boy-ish, but still, your toes were curling. After a few minutes, Youngjae's breathing was heavy, he was enjoying this impromptu contact just as much.

You both had made yourselves obvious these past weeks; him with the eye-fucking, you with the open-truths. Clearly, the forbidden nature of your desires would make for an even more intense experience. You couldn't even imagine how it'd feel to take it further now. 

“I've never had a step-brother before,” you mewled, mentally following the downwards path of his hands.

“I bet you love messing with me,” he replied, barely audible. 

His pianist’s fingers were now haltingly sliding up your ribcage. He wasn't rubbing in anything anymore, just caressing all he could reach. 

He was right, but you wanted more. That was the sexiest thing that happened to you in forever. Having a guy want you bad enough he had to hide away to resit, and now having his hands on you. You wanted him everywhere, all over. You didn’t care; step-brother promises or not.

Giving in to temptation, you turned around, resting on your elbow. Your untied bikini had not followed so you watched as his face fell in realization. Youngjae's mouth opened in awe, eyes glued to your bare perky breasts. At the moment, there was absolutely nothing going on in that male brain of his. He didn’t move; you helped.

As soon as you put one of his hands on your chest, he came back to life. 

“Jesusfuck,” he breathed out, completely winded.

Wow.

Church baby boys were the best.

Entertained, you reached for the sunscreen, pouring lotion on yourself again. “You aren't done.”

“I…” Youngjae swallowed back his protests, cupping your boobs with both hands. He couldn't even look up anymore, enthralled by your nakedness.

No matter what their intentions were, it seemed good guys were still guys after all. If you had known he was this easy to overwhelm, you would’ve walked around topless sooner.

“The neighbours will see us...”

He didn't seem to mind that much, seeing as his thumbs were stroking your pierced nipples relentlessly. If those middle-aged housewives you only caught glimpses off looked over the edge now, they’d have a pretty impressive show. 

“Let them,” sitting, you snaked a hand to his dramatic bulge. Your mouths got so close you felt his breath ghost over. Beaten by your expertise, his shorts’ button came undone first, his fly was even more compliant. 

The moment of truth.

Youngjae's whole body shook when you took his cock in your palm. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Fuck, he was so hard and flushed for you. He pinched your erected nipples in response and you felt a familiar vivid jolt of pleasure and pain down to your toes. Not a virgin, after all, no doubt he would handle you just fine. 

You pressed your mouth to his neck and sucked, right where his Adam's apple bobbed.

That's it, all for you. You were so going to eat up that good boy.

“Mmmm, I’ll tell daddy you’re treating me so fucking well...”

Of all the filthy things you had said so far, this was the one that got the strongest reaction. The wrong one. Youngjae jerked up to his feet, tugging at his shorts in panic. He swore a dozen of times, out of his mind as you stood there, frozen still.

“Sorry,” he offered at last, pitiful before running for his life to the house. 

Fuck.

No.

Surely you were feverish. 

Having a heatstroke.

You had imagined the whole thing.

You had not just being left out cold by a man.

This type of shit never happened to girls like you. 

It took a few minutes to gather back your thoughts and when you did, you decided this wasn't even close to completion.

Without wasting a second more you stormed inside the house, almost flying upstairs to that mythical off-limits bedroom of his. You didn't bother banging, he was in such a hurry he forgot to lock behind, so the door flew open. 

Like a scene straight up from a bad porno, Youngjae spun on his computer chair, a hand still wrapped around his fully erected dick. You couldn't believe your eyes.

“Are you jerking off?” He was already pulling up his shorts again to cover himself, caught red-handed, blushing as though you hadn't been doing it yourself a moment ago.

“I’m sorry, I don't think you–”

“Please don't stop on my behalf,” you waltzed in, confident, and sat on his well-made good boy's bed.

“W-What?” Youngjae blinked, even more, rattled by the sight. 

He didn't leave because he didn't want you, he clearly did. He probably only left because of his father and that dumb promise he mentioned.

“Is this how you've been dealing all along?” You laid back on the comforter, smirking and remembering all those afternoons by the pool you’d thought you’d seen his curtains fall. He certainly enjoyed spying so it gave you an idea. He could try to resist you all he wanted, you'd still made him cave. “You don't want to touch me, right?” Your step-brother nodded, spellbound. “Because you're the perfect son.”

He swallowed hard, “But you keep… Saying those things, sunbathing… And to my friends...”

“Yes, you’re right... So let's start over.” You sighed in fake contrition, “I'm sorry, I've made this so hard for you. I’ll be good too from now on.”

Youngjae scoffed in disbelief, “You are sitting topless on my bed.”

“Oh,” looking down at yourself, you cupped your breasts. “I thought you liked the looking.” His cock was standing up, glorious testimony to this mess. “Don't worry, I get it. I promise I won’t let you touch me...” Throwing your head back without breaking eye contact, you moaned and lightly twisted one of your pierced nipples. “But I’ll make you watch...” Out of his mind, Youngjae did just that as you caressed your own chest for him. Somehow his eyes on you now burned even better than his hands earlier. 

You were so turned on, so worked up by all the days of teasing and loneliness. Your hips started swaying on his bed, craving some fiction and release. 

“You're crazy,” his voice was laboured but he had yet to escape again. This time you wouldn't have followed.

“I-I'm so wet, Youngjae...” Giving in, your right hand fell to your sex, rubbing your last piece of clothing. He was captivated. 

“Fuck it,” he immediately breathed out in surrender, hand wrapping around his dick. That was it, you finally had him. He was all in, playing along with your new favourite family game.

No touching, just innovative teamwork.

You had to establish ground rules, but pushing them was what fun was all about.

“I want you so bad...” You mewled, slipping your middle finger inside your bikini bottom.

Stroking himself, Youngjae groaned, “So you’ve been saying baby, but now you have to show me.”

Oh shit. You were going to come so fast if the golden son had other surprises like that. In a hurry, you wormed out of your panties before he could change his mind once more. In front of his fully clothed self, you laid back, touching your damp slit while he observed intently. The whole experience was surreal, your mind was buzzing, overwhelmed by the wrongness of it all.

It felt so amazing though.

Touching yourself for your step-brother was the sexiest thing you’d ever experienced, and you were very accomplished. You would’ve done anything he'd asked of you, and Youngjae knew that but he abided by his dumb rules. Standing up he came closer, boxer messily shoved down from his earlier haste, one hand was in his hair, the other working hard. You kept rubbing your clit repeatedly letting him see, hastening the pace until you were numb all over, panting. 

“Youngj-jae, I-I–”

Moaning, you broke faster than you had ever with someone, then again no one knew how to make you reach your own high better than yourself. Paroxysm made your thighs jerked as the pleasure waved through you, annihilating all sense of your surroundings.

When you came back, your step-brother was giving up too, bursting in thick spurts of hot cum all over your body and chest. His eyes were wide opened in black elation, intense, not missing a second of the show as he came on you. His whitish-gray seed painted your bareness in ribbons until he was completely emptied.

In silence, Youngjae dropped next to you on the bed, hands covering his face as you both caught your breaths. His now softening dick was still protruding out of his shorts and underwear for the world to see. It probably made for quite a view; your naked body covered in semen right by your respectable step-brother’s way more humble cock.

If your parents came home early, they would both have a stroke.

Youngjae sort of kept his word though... For today at least. 

Because now that you had him all over, you knew you were going to crave him under you.

And no man had ever resisted your charms before.

Step-brother or not.

[The Pleasure Chest: A Cringe Fest]

GOT7 | M.list

[snarkwrites]

tease me | tim speedle | mature.

Notes: 

So this is kind of picking up where my one shot for Tim Speedle that I wrote for Christmas left off... I just felt like revisiting them, maybe a few months down the road. When her Christmas visit has turned into an extended stay and they’re all nice and settled and stuff... I decided to write filth.

I needed this, okay? I needed it. Literally no one asked for this but I wanted it, so here we are. If I have to yearn and thirst, you guys gotta suffer with me.

Warnings:

First of all, this content is not made for folks under 18+ years of age. And if you’re not a fan of sexual content, you will not like this, I can almost certainly guarantee that. If you choose to continue reading beyond the warnings, this is your problem. I warned you up here what you were in for.

If you are sticking around, this contains : unprotected sex, oral sex - female giving, teasing / nude selfies, and a little bit of dirty talk. Body fluids. That’s about it, honestly.

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave​ 

@twistnet​ 

                               [ faq | tag list doc ] 

The excitement I felt was so great that my hands were shaking a little. As a result, it was harder to get that perfect image to send Tim. Finally realizing that I wasn’t going to be able to pose myself seductively enough and manage to hold the phone in my hand to take the photo at the same time, I slipped off Tim’s bed and slunk across the room, unzipping my suitcase.

Once I’d found my tripod and set it up, propping my phone on it and setting up a timer to take the photo, I hurried back to Tim’s bed, draping myself across it lying on my stomach. My legs poised so that my toes were up. My hair falling down to frame my face and just barely hiding my eyes and the covers on his bed doing an okay job at making the photo a little less full on risque.

The flash lit the bedroom momentarily and I got up, slinking over to where I’d placed the phone, inspecting the photo. Once I deemed it worthy of sending, I opened the text conversation I had going with Tim.

[ Blondie ] Good morning, handsome.

[ Blondie ] I hope your day’s going better today. I’m just here, waiting...

[ Blondie ] attachment

[ Blondie ] I missed you in bed this morning… and in me.

Satisfied that I’d stayed well within that fine line of sexy but not too over the top after I re-read my messages, I hit send on the last one and flopped across Tim’s bed, stretching lazily. The sunrise was just starting to peek through the floor to ceiling windows and I slipped out of his bed, wandering over to stand in them and peer out, my eyes fixed on the view of the beach across the street from his place.

I tried to imagine his reaction upon receiving the texts I’d just sent while at work in the crime lab and the thought had me smiling to myself a little.

Yeah, I realized that I was stirring things up, but I didn’t care. We were making up for lost time. Coming to Miami like I had on a whim around Christmas was hands down, the best thing I’d done thus far.

My cell phone rang on the bed and I hurried back over, pouting a little when one look at the screen revealed that it was my boss and not Tim like I’d been hoping.

I sighed and picked it up, answering.

I couldn’t keep putting off a permanent decision and I knew this. It was either here or there. I was either about to uproot myself and make the move to Miami a permanent one or I was going to have to set a date to return to New York.

And as I gazed out the window at the beach across the street, a thought hit me.

Home was wherever Tim Speedle was now. I couldn’t imagine going back to New York. I didn’t even want to think about it. So with that realization in mind, I spoke up, interrupting Rex.

“I’m not coming back, actually. I won’t be renewing my contract with your agency.”

“You’re quitting? You can’t quit now, doll… you gotta strike while the iron is hot. And right now, there are some major names in the fashion world askin about you.” - his words had me laughing and shaking my head, because for the entire time I’d been modeling and stuff, Rex was always saying this. My big break was coming any minute now, he just knew it. Or there were people asking about me.

Until, of course, they mysteriously stopped. And I was left with my photography studio as my sole source of income.And honestly, I just wasn’t enjoying the modeling thing anymore. I’d never really wanted to get involved in it in the first place. I’d gotten to a point where I took less and less jobs.

“Sure they are, Rex. They’ve been asking for me since I was 21 and I signed with you and yet… I haven’t hit my big break yet.”

“Hey, whoa.. What about that bit part in the soap opera I got you?” Rex reminded me.

 I choked on my laughter and shook my head, pacing Tim’s bedroom.

“It was for an unnamed coma patient. I didn’t even have any lines. All I had to do was lie in a hospital bed and moan occasionally.” I reminded him, clearing my throat and repeating myself, much firmer. “I’m not renewing my contract. I’ll be moving to Miami soon. I’m thinking about opening a photography studio here, actually.”

“Okay, fine. It’s your life, baby girl. You do you. I just hope this little fling of yours down in Miami doesn’t backfire, kid.” Rex replied and then promptly, he hung up the phone on his end. I eyed the phone in my hand before laughing and shaking my head. After I deleted his number, I dug around in Tim’s shirt drawer, finding one of his thin gray t-shirts and I made my way down the hall, starting to clean the apartment a little bit. By the time I finished and was lying in the sunshine down on the beach, a quick look at my phone revealed that he should be getting a chance to look at my earlier texts.

I found myself staring at the phone, practically on pins and needles at this point.

XXX

Eric Delko stepped into the Trace area of the crime lab where Tim was working. The radio was cranked up, blasting Def Leppard. That probably explained why Tim hadn’t seen or heard the texts he’d gotten, Eric mused as he picked up his best friend’s phone, wandering over to where Tim stood, analyzing evidence from an earlier crime scene.

He cleared his throat and Tim nearly jumped a foot into the air, turning to glare at him. Eric held out the phone and chuckled. “You’re getting texts, Speed. I came in to see if you were still up for grabbing a bite. Or if you had other plans.”

That last bit was said in a teasing tone that Tim picked right up on. But Tim chose not to take the bait. Instead, he grabbed for his phone and unlocked it, going straight for his texts.

And when he saw what she’d texted him over the course of the morning, he nearly choked on a sip of bottled water he’d taken. His cock started to strain against his jeans and Tim shuffled his feet, trying to will the situation down.

Eric, of course, was taking it all in and he chuckled, mimicking the sound of a whip being cracked. “You’re so fucking whipped, Speed.”

“I’m not whipped.” Tim grumbled, giving Eric the middle finger as he laughed and shook his head. He was used to the good natured teasing. And his near death experience not so long ago had shown him that life was too short to let everything bother him like he’d done prior to.

He tore his eyes off of Eric, letting them settle on the picture she’d texted him earlier. Biting his lip. Mental images of the night before -and pretty much every night since her surprise arrival at Christmas, flashing through his mind like scenes from an explicit movie.

“You’re staring at the screen in a daze, man. The only other reason you’d be doing that is… Oh hell… She’s sexting you right now, isn’t she?” Eric tried to peer at the phone but Tim combatted this by turning away from his friend completely and squaring up so that his shoulders blocked the view a little better.

Eric chuckled. “I’m gonna go wait in the hall. Give you two a little privacy.” he teased again before ducking out of the lab, door swinging shut behind him with a soft thud.

 And the second Tim knew for sure Eric was out in the hall and out of his hair, he smirked to himself, throwing caution to the wind to text her back.

,, Two can play this game, blondie.” he thought to himself as he fired off texts to her.

[ Speed ] Morning, baby girl. 

[ Speed ] It’s going. Definitely a Monday.

[ Speed ] I can’t wait to get back there, fuck.

[ Speed ] Fuck… I’m so hard right now. You realize you’re startin something right now, yeah?

[ Speed ] Baby girl, I miss being inside of you. Just standing here thinking about how wet you get for me… The way you moan my name so loud. 

[ Speed ] 8 o’clock. My bed. What you wear doesn’t matter because I’m gonna tear it off either way…

[ Speed ] I love you, baby girl. Only 7 hours to go. ;P

After he’d sent the last text, he took a few deep breaths to attempt getting himself under control all over again, and then he stepped out into the hallway, catching up to Eric who chuckled and shook his head. Tim gave a lazy shove to the other man and through laughter he questioned, “Why are you bustin my balls anyway, man? Are you not doing the same with Calleigh right now?”

“ You’re the one who really didn’t get around much before, Speed. I’m your best friend. Kind of my job to bust your balls about your new girl. Speaking of… Calleigh was wondering if you two wanted to do something as a group sometime. She really wants to meet her.”

Tim chuckled and shrugged. “I’ll ask her tonight.”

XXX

The sound of my cell phone going off beside me on the beach towel had me waking up from my lazy little cat nap. I sat up and stretched, grabbing for it.

I fidgeted a little as I read Tim’s responses to the texts I’d sent him that morning. Biting my lip, I eyed the time.

Six more hours now. I blinked in shock. Had I really taken an hour nap on the beach?

It felt kind of nice.

[ Blondie ] Oh, trust me. I know exactly what I’m doing, baby.

I decided to push things just a little further. Since he was teasing me right back. Fair is fair, right? I posed myself and raised my phone so that the camera managed to catch my whole body and I took the picture.

[ Blondie ] attachment

[ Blondie ] Ugh, you’ve got me so wet right now. I can’t stop thinking about the way it felt this morning when you had your head between my thighs. 

[ Blondie ] What if I don’t wear anything? 

[ Blondie ] Fuck… I wish you were here right now.. Those hands all over my body.

[ Blondie ] I need you. I’m aching right now, baby.

Taking a few deep breaths to center myself, I sent the last text and stood, gathering my beach towel and stretching. I needed to get back to the apartment and take a shower. My thighs clenched as the thought spurred forth a series of mental imagery that had me aching. Tim pressing me against the wall of the shower and hitting his knees, spreading my legs and licking me clean. The little bite marks he left behind that were starting to fade.

I made my way back to the apartment and stripped down, stepping into a nice cool shower.

XXX

His eyes settled on the clock on the wall and he tapped his fingers against the desktop impatiently. It felt like time was crawling by, almost moving backwards.

His phone buzzed against the wooden desk and he grabbed it up, putting in his unlock code. His eyes danced over the texts she’d sent back to him. He let out a ragged deep breath as soon as the attachment was downloaded and he could see her posing in that little neon pink bikini, biting her lip. His eyes roamed over the picture and he smiled softly for a few seconds before saving it. 

“Fuck. You’re tryin to kill me today, baby girl.” he mumbled, mostly to himself as he turned his attention to responding to the texts she’d sent him.

[ Speed ] You tasted so fucking sweet. I’ve been dying for another taste of you all day, baby girl.

[ Speed ] If you don’t wear anything, that just makes it easier for me. 

[ Speed ] I might have to take you against the door though.

[ Speed ] I’m so hard I could break right now, baby girl. Wanna bury my cock inside you so deep…

[ Speed ] I’m on my way. Just fifteen more minutes. The slowest fifteen minutes of today, apparently.

[ Speed ] I want you naked. Waiting on me in bed. 

After he hit send, he set to finishing up the remainder of his paperwork and once that was done, he couldn’t get out of the lab and back to his apartment… To her… fast enough.

The drive across town seemed to take hours and not minutes.

XXX

My eyes settled on my cell phone screen and almost as soon as I realized just how close it was to time for Tim to be getting in from work, the wetter I got in anticipation. My cunt was throbbing already. We’d been teasing each other all day long. That teasing had me beyond ready for what I knew was coming my way as soon as he stepped through the door.

I’d just put the spaghetti I’d made us both onto plates when I heard the door shut. His heavy soled boots hitting the floor beside it with a soft thud. I bit my lip and called out to him, “In here, baby.” so he’d come into the kitchen and I went back to setting the table.

His arms wrapped around me from behind and he nipped at the shell of my ear, muttering against it “Something smells good, baby girl.”

“Spaghetti… Nonna’s sauce, too.” I answered, turning in his arms to press myself against him. He melted into me, putting my back right against the edge of the dining table and his mouth found mine in a hungry and biting kiss. My arms wrapped around his neck and I whimpered as his hands wandered down, grabbing hold of my ass, squeezing and rubbing me against him. I could feel him straining against his jeans already and if I thought I was wet before, I could feel my thighs slipping right off of each other in seconds. One of his hands left my ass, wandering up the hem of the tee shirt I’d taken out of his drawer to wear after my shower. When his palm settled against my throbbing cunt, I whimpered, rocking against it, breathless. 

He growled into another deep and bruising kiss as soon as he realized exactly how wet I was. Wordlessly, he scooped me up and carried me down the hall to his bedroom, pushing the door open, not bothering to break the kiss. He placed me on the bed and followed me down, settling over me.

The kiss broke and he gazed at me hungrily.

“I made food..” I barely managed to gasp the words. He licked his lips and spread my legs, leaning down and muttering against my mouth as his hand skimmed the inside of my thigh and settled against my aching cunt all over again, “I know, baby girl.. But I’m not exactly hungry for food right now, ya know?”

My back arched as his hand squeezed my center and he rocked himself against my lower body, letting me feel his cock straining at his jeans, getting even harder. His lips trailed down my neck lazily and he mumbled against my skin, “There’s something else I wanna taste so much more right now…” 

As he moved down my body, I tried to reach down between us, giving an impatient tug at the waistband of his jeans that only had him stopping to meet my gaze, chuckling quietly as he shook his head. “Not yet, baby girl.”

“Tim, please.” I moaned out, squirming and rocking against him, desperate for any kind of friction. What I really wanted was his cock buried inside me, but I knew he wasn’t going to give me that yet. Not after I’d been teasing him all day like I had.

Now, he was going to tease me.

His teeth caught on the hem of the tee shirt I’d borrowed of his to wear and he tugged it upward, playfully growling as he did so. Pulling me up so he could pull the shirt over my head and tossing it into the floor of the bedroom. While he had me sitting up, I went for the button and then the zip on his jeans and rose to my knees, pulling him into a greedy and biting kiss as I mumbled against his mouth with a soft giggle. “It’s my turn now.”

“Oh it is, hm?” he gasped as my mouth broke from his and started to ghost down the side of his neck. I gently shoved him against the mattress and the lower my mouth worked down his abdomen, the more I could feel him tensing with each little kitten lick, nip or kiss I left behind as I worked my way down. I tugged down his jeans and the boxers beneath and his cock sprang free, making me moan. Tim raised up slightly, watching as I dipped my head, taking his cock in my mouth, dragging my tongue across the tip and then lazily down the vein that ran the length of it. He shivered and his hands dug into the comforter and tangled up in my hair as he bucked his hips against my mouth carefully.

I wrapped my mouth around his length tighter, taking him deeper in my throat and the grip on my hair tightened as he groaned and rocked his hips against my mouth more urgently. This only made me smile to myself as I pulled my mouth away, a soft pop lingering in the air after suction was broken. After I caught my breath, I wrapped my lips around his cock again, bobbing up and down. His fingers tugged at my hair, guiding my mouth deeper until I felt the tip of his cock starting to hit my gag reflex. His other hand clutches the blanket. I kept at it, his groans and quiet growls and the way he moaned his name only spurring me onward. Until he was tapping me to get my attention.

I licked my lips, wiping my mouth and he  was raising up, grabbing hold of me and pulling me up his body. 

“I can’t wait, baby girl. Gotta have you right now. Fuck.” he groaned against my mouth as he captured it in another hungry and frenzied kiss. He slammed me down on his cock, gripping my hips as he pumped me up and down and I whimpered, my head falling back and my cries shattering the quiet of the apartment as they echoed off the bedroom walls. My nails dug into his shoulders and upper back lightly, raking over his skin as he filled and stretched me with his cock. 

“Oh fuck, Tim.. Baby, yeah. Faster, baby. C’mon.” I pleaded as my orgasm built quickly to an intense level I almost couldn’t keep at bay. His fingers squeezed my hips and he bucked himself up into me from below. Raising a hand, he reached up, catching hold of my jawline. Pulling my mouth down against his and conquering it in a deep kiss. His teeth hooked on my bottom lip, tugging at it and scraping against it and I whimpered as he started to slow down right as I felt my body tensing up and I could feel my orgasm about to shatter through.

He sat up, mumbling against my mouth, “Not yet, pretty girl. Not yet.” as he started to fuck into me slower… deeper. My head fell back and I bounced up and down on his cock until his hands slipped down my sides, squeezing my hips and bringing my movements to a grinding halt. He tilted my chin so that I had to look down at him and his mouth dove against mine, muttering softly into the kiss, “Easy, baby girl. I’m so fucking close right now.” and licked his lips as we pulled apart to breathe.

His hands moved down my body, gripping my ass as he started to buck into me from below and pump me up and down on his cock all over again. Slower. Almost so slow that I could feel him sinking in with each thrust, inch for inch. I was begging, whimpering his name over and over as I tried to get us going faster again, but he chuckled, gripping my ass harder, keeping me as still as he possibly could and shook his head no.

“Tim, c’mon baby, I… fuck.” I whined, begging for release. He muttered lazily against my mouth in a low and husky whisper, “After all the teasing today, baby girl… I’m gonna take my time with you.”

A shiver passed through me as his lips danced down my throat lazily, his teeth latching onto my skin here and there, leaving little marks behind as he continued to slowly fuck into me and pump me up and down on his cock. His lips moved slowly along my collar bones and I gasped, my head falling back in sheer bliss as he started to fuck into me deeper, the angle making every single deep drive feel amazing.

I dragged my hands through his hair, tugging at it as I buried my mouth against his, just to keep myself from screaming his name over and over when he continued to fuck into me deep and slow, pulling me up far enough with each drive that I could feel inch for inch of his thick cock as it buried back inside of me all over again. My fingers dug into his shoulders and his upper back and he shivered, nipping at my breasts as he circled my nipples with his tongue, teasing them to points, blowing on them softly, making me whimper and squirm in his lap, trying to speed up the pace.

He stopped completely, leaning his forehead against mine, taking my face in his hands as he gave me a deep and slow kiss, his lips locking around my bottom lip and tugging gently as it broke again for us to breathe.

“Love you so much baby girl. Having you here is amazing, you know that?”

I remembered my decision and at his words, I beamed softly, muttered back against his mouth with a soft giggle, “I’m glad you think so… Because honestly, I don’t want to leave.”

“You don’t have to, baby girl.”

“I’m not going to, Tim.” I answered, watching as the slow and lazy grin played at his lips, tugging the corners of his mouth upward. His hands smoothed over my hair and he pulled me against him as he started to fuck into me again.

Slow and deep. Lazy thrusts. He meant every single word of what he said when he’d told me earlier that he was going to take his time with me. And after my little surprise news, I could feel him relaxing.

I felt more relaxed too. I’d been feeling that way since I decided to stay earlier in the day.

We had all the time in the world now and I didn’t want to waste a single second of it…

I just wanted to enjoy being here, with him.

Because wherever Tim Speedle was, I knew that was where home was for me.

I gripped his face in my hands, pulling his mouth back against mine, pleading for my release. I ached for it. “C’mon, Tim, please baby?”

His grip relaxed on my body and I started to bounce up and down on his cock faster, whimpering and moaning, dragging my fingers over his back and through his hair as my orgasm shattered through, leaving me shaky, my walls clamping his cock as I rode out my high, milking his cock as it started to throb and he started to fuck into me harder and deeper, bottoming out, capturing my mouth in a deep and lasting kiss as his own orgasm took over and he filled me up.

“Feels so good, baby girl, fuck. I love the way it feels when you’re coming for me. You take me so well.” 

I deepened the kiss, my hand resting across the back of his neck as I did so. As we slowed to a stop and sat there, kissing and touching, he tilted my chin, making me look at him. Rolling his thumb over my bottom lip as he gazed at me in sheer adoration and I gazed right back at him in the same way. My eyes settled on the scar he still had from the life saving operation after he’d been shot and I lowered my lips, feathering a kiss over the wound. He chuckled, tilting my chin up, biting his lip.

The growling of our stomachs had us sharing a look, bursting into quiet laughter and Tim muttering quietly against my mouth, “That spaghetti’s cold by now. Want me to reheat it?”

“Yeah.”

He captured my mouth in another lingering kiss and mumbled against my lips with a chuckle “stay right here, baby girl. I got it.” as he let me settle into the bed and slid off, grabbing his boxers and slipping them back on, making his way down the hall and into the kitchen.

I smiled to myself.

Yeah, this really does feel like home.

[suppermom]

People are back to being copycats trying to mimic my previous blog and some at random f****** talentless people throughout the ZIP code are trying to have verbage repeat and don't know what plagiarism is cuz they're that minute and the IQ scale life is not the same there have been so many changes we just had another 9/11 anniversary date where people celebrated the anniversary of 9/11 which we don't generally do MSNBC was nice enough to recap some of the other people's children who were affected by September 11th on flight 93 both my sons are considered to be college years one is approaching College outside of the traditional homeschooling and the untraditional education of public school for some time and he has not picked a major he's still a designer and a singer and an older brother so he has a lot on his plate with that my other son is still in the military and that is on point we did a lot of planning researching military schools boarding schools and everything that his father and I had imagined during our brief Union we still hurt from September 11th and his grandparents have had a really gracious time traveling the world together as one they said a lot of really high standards and good examples of what a marriage should be and none of us have had the option to step foot into the house cuz it's our family home like it's we don't want to cover the walls with September 11th news and all of that we want to be able to fill the house with our own successes right now I'm no longer realtor from a contractor and I refuse to go with this weird repeat of contract education and I want to say real estate review cuz it's all repetitive and none of it has changed the money is still not the greatest cuz it is commission oh Mama you're still the highest paying job on the planet cuz 30% from the first check does Mount out to be a pretty good ira for myself I have roommates now and before I didn't have roommates in California I opted the roommate status to a lot of people who are sick of living in Arizona and nobody came to visit me or to live with me in California so it's nice to come to Arizona and have those same people offer the roommate status right now it's just me Vero and PR and we're GT yelling at Planet fitness cuz 24 hour fitness and LA fitness and eagles fitness got outrageous with their bill to early b******* I have no new talents other than recaptivating my ex-boyfriend's life with my feed to his siblings and the move to Miami before the end of the year because that is where I plan on going with one friend maybe two if PR wants to go with Barrow has been a part of my friendship and childhood for a really long time so it's nice to be around people who work just as hard as you and know what it is to be set up and planned in your daily and your lifestyle it's a really good lifestyle we don't we don't want nothing but the best you know what I mean I know New York is very far away and I've always asked you to come and visit so Arizona is further but when we get to Miami maybe you can come there and visit and see some ladies on the beach cuz that is our home that's my home Arizona is a home away from home just like California is a home away from home there's no news yet haven't gotten much reality TV and so let's see what happens as of now Bradley and I do not get along I do not need to hear him breathe I prefer not to hear him breathe cuz he has been a breach of parentage for a really long time and I still own the right to a lot of his images for domestic violence and non-payment of his judgment Miami's going to do him some justice and imminent domain his largest shoe box house.

#mwah new digits leave a voicemail I'll call you back 480-600-3505

Skylar Kennedy