Malcolm - The Meeting (A Cocky Smiling O Story Book 3) Read online

  It hasn’t been that long since he went down on me on the couch, followed by a less urgent fucking. My core is tender and satisfied, yet as my tongue darts to my lips and I caress his velvety length, my satisfaction is waning.

  “Mandy, you don’t—”

  I don’t let him finish as I sheath my teeth and take him between my lips.

  “Fuck!” His recurring growl sends tremors to my pussy as I concentrate on sucking him, taking him deeper into my mouth until he reaches the back of my throat.

  It’s been so long. I fight the urge to gag. It's not that there is anything gag-worthy about Malcolm’s cock in my mouth. I love not only the taste of us, but also the control, the way he is allowing me to work him at my own speed.

  “M-Mandy…” His words are breathy as I move up and down.

  I add my hands so I can service his entire rod. Though I didn’t know it was possible, as I suck and stroke he gets harder than before. Faster and faster I bob my head as this sexy man trembles at my touch.

  I roll his balls between my fingertips as my tongue swirls his tip. Tighter and tighter his balls pull toward him as I suck and lick.

  His breathing quickens when all of a sudden he pulls away. The apartment, which I finally noticed is a very nice place, echoes with a pop as he pulls out of my mouth.

  “Turn around.”

  Only momentarily confused, I do as he says, still on my knees.

  Malcolm reaches for my ass and pulls it higher. “On all fours, beautiful. I’m taking you from behind. You’re too sexy. I can’t resist.”

  My ass wiggles with anticipation as I do what he says. Up on my hands and knees, I spread my legs farther apart.

  “Look at you,” he says.

  “I can’t…”

  My words trail away as he describes what he sees. Though it should embarrass me, it doesn’t. The appreciation in his deep tone increases my need.

  “So fucking beautiful. Your pussy is pink and wet. I can see both of your holes. The way you’re dripping, I want to fill them both.”

  His words rumble through me with desire and dread.

  My head slowly shakes back and forth as my ass tingles and pussy clenches. "I-I've never." His finger traces my exposed core, dipping into my pussy and spreading our cum over my tight muscles.

  Suddenly his finger pushes through the barrier, going where no one has ever gone.

  It’s erotic and forbidden. Instead of pulling away, I back toward him, little by little taking more and more.

  As his finger finds a rhythm, his other hand rubs my clit. The two sensations are all consuming. Just as the pleasure grows, I cry out. His cock dives deep inside my pussy. He’s filled both of my holes, creating the most amazing sense of fullness I never knew existed.

  “Jesus, that feels…it feels…”

  “You feel fucking perfect,” he says, finishing my sentence.

  This time the build is slower, but more intense. His finger in my ass was the spark of lightning that ignited a new wildfire within me. Rubbing my clit was another streak of lightning. Flicker by flicker, the energy continues to grow, the heat and intensity rising until I am on the brink of a devastating explosion. A volcanic eruption grows and grows, the pressure consuming me as his cock thrusts and his fingers delve and twist.

  I willingly rock, pushing toward his invasion, wobbling on my knees as he pounds into me.

  We are animals, so primitive and raw.

  The pressure, the emotion, all continues to climb. Malcolm’s apartment fills with our pants as we both fight to breathe, his lips nip at my shoulder and neck. His cock pounds relentlessly as my pussy clenches and strangles his cock.

  How could I possibly cum again?

  I don’t know, but all at once we both surrender to the inevitable. To my momentary embarrassment, I not only cum, but also squirt, my legs becoming a flowing riverbed as our mingled cum runs downward.

  Malcolm collapses on me as my knees give out. His heart beating erratically against my back, he engulfs me in his embrace. Pulling out, leaving both of my entrances empty, he rolls me to my back and stares down into my eyes.

  “I don't want to let you go. I want more than one night with you.”

  Jase runs around the living room in his pajamas and Superman cape as I listen to Sally’s apology for the fifteenth time. I grip the cell phone tighter as I smile at my son’s imagination.

  My mom brought him home this morning on her way to the store. And even though she eyed me up and down and asked what time I got home, I didn’t spill.

  I didn’t tell her that it wasn’t until the sun was rising or that I’d awakened in Malcolm’s bed with his arm draped over my waist. I didn’t say that I am completely battered and bruised in the most delicious way. I didn’t say that my core and legs are tender or that I am completely satiated. Instead, I told her the truth: I never met up with Sally because Brian had an emergency at work and I didn’t meet my blind date.

  Of course, that left a lot of the facts out, but it wasn’t a lie.

  “You have to give it another try," Sally says. "You know I would never have left you hanging if it wasn’t out of my control. Brian feels awful.”

  “Sally, stop. I don’t want you to feel bad. The thing is, I’m not sure I’m ready. I tried. I really did. I think I should concentrate on Jase and work and let fate work out the rest.”

  As the words move from my lips through the phone to her ears, I close my eyes.

  Fate.

  That’s what Malcolm was. Not a blind date, not an arranged meeting, but fate. Fate set up our meeting and who am I to argue with fate.

  Sally is talking. I'm not sure what she is saying, but I assume it is her apology rephrased or perhaps her argument against my stance.

  “…can’t live like a nun for the rest of your life.”

  “Look at me!” Jase proclaims as he jumps from the couch to the floor. “I’m flying!”

  “You are!”

  He runs toward me.

  “And I’m fast!”

  “And loud,” I say with a giggle. “I’m talking to your Aunt Sally.”

  “Hi, Aunt Sally!” Jase yells as he waves and rushes toward his bedroom.

  “Besides,” I say to the phone, “I have Superman here. I don’t think I need any other men, not with Superman.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Don’t make me call your mom again.”

  I almost say that she wouldn't dare, but we both know she would. “The thing is…” I lower my voice. “…I met someone last night. The night wasn’t a bust. I’m not sure I’ll ever see him again, but it was—” I search for the right word. “—fun.”

  “What? Holy shit! You met someone—like met them? You let me ramble on for hours and apologize a zillion times and you were holding out on me?”

  I shake my head playfully. “You were only apologizing and rambling for minutes, not hours. And I’m holding out on everyone. He was…nice.” I smile as I recall his description of nice. “And for the record, that doesn’t mean uglier than shit. I mean nice. He was funny and cocky and confident and complimentary—”

  “Oh my God! You met someone. Did you sleep with him?”

  “Remember me...I’m a nun?”

  “Amanda Jane Wells, spill or I’m coming over.”

  I shrug. “There’s really nothing to spill. It was one night. I’d promised you and Mom I’d remember what it was like to be a woman for one night. I did. End of story.”

  “Wait! No. Do not end the story. I can hear something in your voice. I don’t know if you slept with him, but you—” She pauses. “—you did something that made you remember what it’s like to be a woman. I can hear it!” Her last phrase is so loud that I move the phone away from my ear.

  “It doesn’t matter. I told him it was just for one night.”

  “What? Why?”

  Jase runs into the living room, right up to my chair, clutches a jar of peanut butter to his chest, and falls with an agonizing groan to the floor. If he were allergic to peanut
s I may be concerned, but he isn’t.

  “Oh my goodness,” I say. “What’s the matter, Superman?”

  “It’s my krip-o-night…I’m dying…”

  I smirk, thinking he has the whole kryptonite thing wrong. “Sally, I need to go. Superman is dying.”

  “I need answers.”

  “I think he’s hungry. I’m pretty sure I can save him. If I don’t, I’ll let you know.”

  “A. Man. Da.” She elongates my name.

  “Nothing more to tell. Bye. Love you.”

  I wrangle the jar of peanut butter from Jase’s tiny hands and kiss his nose. He’s so cute with his eyes closed. It’s a moment of peace before he returns to full speed.

  Within seconds, he’s dashing around the kitchen as I make his lunch.

  “Mom?” he asks, his big blue eyes, just like his daddy’s, looking up at me.

  My heart skips a beat as I do a double take. How hadn't I realized? Malcolm’s eyes are similar, a deeper blue than mine. The recognition hurts my chest. Was that why I was so attracted to him? He didn’t really look like my husband. Jackson had sandy blond hair. Malcolm’s is dark, closer to mine. Yet it was his eyes, the way they stared at me, that made my tummy do flip-flops. The way they stared not only at my eyes and soul, but also at my core, taking in my naked, exposed body and complimenting everything he saw...I fight to breathe.

  “Mommy?” Jase tugs on my shirt.

  My hand is on the peanut butter lid, but I hadn’t moved.

  “What, baby?”

  “I’m not a baby,” he says matter-of-factly.

  “No, you’re not.” I bend down and poke his tummy. “But you’ll always be mine.”

  “Even when I’m old?”

  “Yep,” I confirm with a kiss to his nose. “Now, let me make your lunch.”

  “What if I don’t like lunch at school?”

  I look down, taking in this growing boy. My heart hurts at the thought of him entering school. Sure, he’s been in preschool, but this is real school. It’s the beginning of growing up, growing older, and moving away. Swallowing back my emotion, I plaster a smile on my face. “What makes you think you won’t like it? You like lunch at ABC.”

  His little nose scrunches. “Not always.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what. If you don’t like some of the lunches, I’ll pack you a lunch on those days.”

  His eyes widen as if I’m the best mom in the world. If only he would never change his mind. “Really?”

  “Yep. I’m pretty sure that we’ll know the week before what they’re serving. If there’s a day you don’t want to eat what they have, I’ll make you a sandwich.”

  “And apple slices?”

  “And apple slices.”

  "Can I get a new lunchbox?"

  "Of course."

  His little arms wrap around my legs. “I love you, Mommy.”

  My fingers tussle his sandy blonde curls. “I love you more.”

  As I carry Jase’s plate to the table, I hear my phone ding. Shaking my head, I say, “Your Aunt Sally needs to drop it.”

  “Drop what?” Jase asks as he scoots into his chair.

  “Never mind.”

  He dives into his sandwich, apple slices, and glass of milk as I reach for my phone.

  Malcolm is on the screen.

  How? How could his name be in my phone?

  I swipe the screen and read the text.

  I hope you don’t mind, but I sent myself a text from your phone while you were asleep. That way we each have the other's number. BTW, you have the cutest snore while you sleep.

  My palms moisten. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  I keep reading.

  We left this thing with us open. I know you said one night, but without sounding desperate, I meant what I said. I want more.

  My eyes close as I try to push away memories of last night, of how great it was, how great he was.

  Now that you know you have my number, I’m waiting for your call or text. Until then, sweet, incredibly sexy Mandy, I'll be busy imagining your response.

  I shake my head.

  Shit!

  “You never did tell me what the issue was with the guy you were supposed to meet,” I say into my phone, my feet up on my coffee table as I listen to Mandy’s giggle.

  I didn’t think she’d call. She didn’t all day Saturday. I kept my phone with me the entire day, even refusing to answer the hundred calls from Brian after the one when I told him it was alright. I wasn’t mad, but I didn’t want to go out with Sally’s friend. I needed to concentrate on work. After all, that was what brought me to this town.

  “I’m embarrassed to say it,” she says softly.

  “My curiosity is going wild.”

  “Well, my friend and her boyfriend think he’s been off the dating scene because he can’t—” She giggles again. “—because he can’t get it up.”

  My cheeks rise as my expression mimics some stupid teenagers. “Then I would guess that you went home with the right guy.”

  “Well, yeah. You didn't seem to have a problem with that...either time.”

  “Either?” I ask. “Beautiful, I think it was more like five times and no, it wasn’t a problem. It wouldn’t be a problem now either.”

  “I-I…this is what I can’t do. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just talk. I can get it up just at the sound of your voice.”

  “Oh my!”

  “That’s it. Now if you’d moan or whimper, in that cute way you do—”

  “Malcolm, stop,” she says in a hushed tone. “I can’t have phone sex with my son asleep in the other room.”

  Fuck. I’d forgotten about her son. It’s not that I care if she has a kid. I love kids. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have chosen my new profession. I wouldn't have gone back to school and gotten my degree. “Sorry. I forgot.”

  Mandy goes quiet on the other end.

  “Don’t stop talking. I was just imagining that pink blush on your cheeks. I’m not really getting off, not yet anyway.”

  A long sigh fills the silence, coming from her end. “I-I had a good time…”

  “I had a better than good time. It has been a long time since I’ve had such an amazingly good time. I understand you have responsibilities. I get that. I’ll take whatever time you can spare.”

  “How?”

  “How?” I repeat her question. "What do you mean?"

  “Don’t you work?”

  “I do. This is Sunday night. I work during the week. You?”

  “Same.”

  “And your son goes to bed…” I let my sentence go unfinished.

  “Tonight is early, because he starts school tomorrow. But as I said, I don’t plan to introduce you. It’s not fair to him.”

  My head nods. “As much as I want to come to your house and cum at your house...and make you cum at your house—”

  “Malcolm!”

  “Right. As I was saying, I get it. I respect it. Can we perhaps plan another date? A real one. Dinner and drinks. Not pizza and rehydration.”

  “I don’t know, I liked pizza and rehydration.”

  “Fuck, now you’re the one with the sexy tone.”

  Mandy giggles again and I imagine her cheeks turning pink.

  “I need to check with my mom. She and my dad will probably watch him. They’re great.”

  “When does he go to his father’s house?”

  When she doesn’t respond, I get the sickening feeling that I’ve overstepped my bounds. “Mandy, sorry. None of my business. Please, talk to your parents. My friend is determined to get me to meet that nice lady, but I told him that I’m seeing someone.”

  “No! Malcolm, we met. We aren’t seeing one another.”

  “Oh, sexy. I’ve seen you—all of you—and I want to see it again and again.”

  “No promises. My friend is after me too. But I don’t want to see anyone. Well, anyone...”

  I can hear in her tone she has more to say. I sit up
, my feet on the floor as I grasp the phone. “Anyone?" I encourage. "Go on.”

  “Anyone except you.”

  Yes!

  I ease into the booth and smile toward Malcolm’s welcoming expression.

  “Hello, gorgeous.”

  My smile grows. “I’m sorry this is a late dinner. I wanted to wait until my son was in bed.”

  Malcolm shakes his head. “Not a problem. I ordered you a glass of moscato. I hope you don’t mind.”

  There’s a tug in my chest, remembering how Jackson used to do that. Though I have friends who would be offended by a man ordering for them, I’m not one of them. On the contrary, I’m pleased that he remembers the wine I like. “I don’t mind. Thank you.”

  Malcolm reaches across the table and opens his hand, palm up.

  Slowly I lift mine and place it in his. My eyes flutter as his fingers encase mine. The energy at our connection ripples through me, warming and waking me. It’s like electricity bringing me away from my long day at work, my concerns over Jase’s kindergarten, and life in general. For only a moment, I fantasize how it would be to have Malcolm’s warmth and support every evening.

  “You’re too far away.”

  My gaze moves back to him and his sexy smile. “I am? We’re touching.”

  His brow lifts suggestively. “Not in as many places as I’d like.”

  “Didn’t you promise me dinner and drinks?”

  “I did.” Just as he speaks, the waitress arrives with glasses of water, a glass of moscato, and another of beer.

  Once she’s gone, Malcolm says what I was thinking. “After a long day at work, it’s nice to sit here and talk, share a drink.”

  I nod. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “Tell me about your job.”

  I take a deep breath. “Can all that wait?”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t really know. I think I want to enjoy being with you without it being too real. My job has its ups and downs. I love my company and coworkers. My boss can be a bitch.” The fingers from my other hand fly to my lips. It’s one thing to say that to Sally, but I don’t know Malcolm well enough.

  His laugh resonates filling the space of our booth. “Now don’t get all shy with me. I guarantee I heard worse expletives from your lips than that each time you came apart with my cock buried deep inside you.”