Eye Candy

“Shit.” Again, her thighs begin to shake, and she rolls up unto her toes and pants my name, over and over.

I pull back and stare. “Fuck. Are you coming again?”

Beth doesn’t answer. She can’t. She’s moaning and cursing because she is.

And there is no fucking way I’m not feeling that around my cock this time.

“Hold on. Fuck. Just hold on for me.” I stand and twist her around so we’re facing each other. Her eyes are wide. Her head flops on my shoulder.

“I can’t. I can’t stop,” she pants, elbows bent above her head. “Reed, hurry.”

I lift her up and set her on the edge of the table, grab the base of my dick, and sink in.

Wet. Tight. Perfect.

Fuck.

“Beth,” I gasp, just the first inch inside. “Good God, holy fuck.”

“Fuck me. Please!”

I guide her legs around my waist and reach around her to pull the rope free from the table. She stretches out on her back, arms still bound, which she keeps above her head. And when I watch her lips form that word again, hurry, with her eyes rolling closed, I squeeze her tits and thrust in.

“Yeah. Fuck yeah. Just like that,” I pant, bucking into her wildly.

“Reed.” Her body locks up, her pussy jerking my dick as her orgasm rips through her. “Yes! Oh, God. Don’t stop.”

“I can’t,” I tell her. I bend down and suck her nipple into my mouth, moaning against her slick skin. “Ah, fuck. Fuck! Touch me. Fucking touch me, Beth. Please.”

Beth’s fingers slide into my hair and tug until my eyes water.

“Ah, yeah, God. Fuck yeah.” Blood rushes in my ears. My orgasm races down my spine and tingles in my balls. “Close,” I grunt. Growling into her cleavage, I fuck her deep, keeping myself from getting too rough with her, and I think I have it—that discipline it takes to keep from getting too lost, too wild in this moment, but then I feel her nails dig into my scalp, and it’s over. I can’t.

And doctor’s blessing and all, so why not?

I lean away just enough to watch her, keeping her hands in my hair, and fuck her mad, crashing my hips against the back of her thighs. The table beneath us drags along the floor, screeching over our grunts and heavy breaths. Beth’s heels dig into my back. Sweat drips from my brow onto her tits, and I lick it up. My vision blurs. Right there. Right there. I suck and suck on her skin until she demands I bite her. And when my teeth sink into the plump flesh around her nipple, I come with a growl.

“God . . . damn,” I murmur, breathless and body spent. I kiss the red sting away and lick up to her neck, moaning, “Beth. Beth. Beth.”

Her name is my favorite sound.

She hums in content beneath me, stroking my hair. “Well done, Mr. Tennyson.”

I smirk, lifting my head to meet her eyes. “I wasn’t too . . . me, was I?”

It’s still a fear, even though I have all the assurance I need. I know it’ll always be something I worry about.

I couldn’t live if I hurt her.

“You were perfect.” She hits me with that smile, my smile, and sighs. “Everything. You were everything.”

I look down at her flushed cheeks, her messy hair falling out of her pony, and her lips—wet and ready. I bend and take them in a kiss that matches my dependency for this woman. Heavy. Pulse-pounding. And all-consuming. Even in the moments after, when my limbs can barely hold me up and I couldn’t feel more connected to Beth, it’s still there. That desperation. I’m hopeless against it. I’m hopeless against her.

In this bar, I’ve always been. From that very first kiss.

“I believe we have a party to get ready for,” I murmur, kissing her softly now.

“Mm. Just a few more minutes of this.”

“A few more minutes, and I’ll be hard again.”

“I know.”

I lean away, eyebrow cocked. “Good Lord, Beth. I just made you come how many times?”

She bites at her lip, fighting a smile. “I don’t know. Three?”

“Are you still horny?”

“It kind of doesn’t go away,” she reveals. “But, I mean, it’s not me. I read something about pregnant women being like this. It isn’t weird or anything.”

I chuckle and press a soft kiss to her mouth. “Well, that settles that. We’re having thirty kids now. One after the other. TLC will probably offer us a show.”

“Reed,” she giggles.

“I could stop working. Hell. You could stop working. We can just fuck all day and collect our checks.”

“And eat,” she says, beaming up at me and no doubt remembering the time I suggested we do those two things, and only those two things, for the rest of the day. “Actually, I am pretty hungry. Maybe we can break for a snack real quick, and then I can tie you up?” Her brows wiggle suggestively.

Tie me up?

Yeah fucking right.

“You would hate every second of that, and you know it,” I say, knowing how my wife gets off better than she does.

“I’m not sure.” She pinches her lips together, thinking. “I might like it.”

“Beth.” I give her a look.

“What? Reed Tennyson, from McGill’s.” She gives me a look back, which she loses almost immediately when a laugh tears from my throat.

“God, I can’t wait to do this for the rest of my life with you,” I say, kissing her smiling lips.

“You and me,” she murmurs, her bound arms tightening around my neck.

I breathe deep, loving the way that sounds but even more, loving that soon, it’ll be changing to us—you, me, and her. Layla.

I close my eyes, happy, relaxed, my life so fucking good because of this woman.

The same one gently tugging on my hair and shyly requesting, “Um, Reed? About that snack . . .”





LUKE


The line I’m standing in moves ahead a couple feet when another group is instructed to “Stay on the path. Don’t divert, or you’ll regret it!” by some kid dressed as the Grim Reaper.

He holds out his scythe and tries to look intimidating as thunder claps from stereo speakers mounted to nearby lampposts, and four teenage girls squeal and run past him, disappearing into the dark woods.

“I’m so scared! I might pee myself!” a young girl behind me shrieks.

“If anyone touches me, I’ll die!” another cries before breaking into excited laughter.

Two kids holding lightsabers carry on a fight just off to the side while they wait their turns. They can’t be any older than Nolan. And for yet another time tonight, I shake my head and wonder what the fuck I’m doing right now, because aside from their parents and whoever oversees the lighting and special effects at Weber’s Haunted Woods, I am the oldest motherfucker here.

Halloween is a holiday for kids and women who want an excuse to dress up. I don’t have any reason to be coming to shit like this anymore. I haven’t been to one of these things since I was in middle school. And if it weren’t for the voice that turns my head every fucking time I hear it, I wouldn’t be standing here now.

“I’m not cutting in line. Relax, before your hair frizzes out any more.”