Distant Desires Page 3

  He flicked at it again. My body reacted the same. Over and over he touched it, cajoling the already swollen bud into a desperate fervor. And then he pulled away.

  But not completely.

  He went back to sliding his finger into my opening.

  “More,” I begged, unable to keep quiet anymore.

  “More what?” he asked.

  “Use more than one finger.”

  Two fingers filled me and stretched my walls. It’d been a while since I had sex and I felt tight. The stretching action was beyond welcome, like it was way overdue. His fingers began a circular motion, spinning around inside me.

  I made little sounds of pleasure because holding them in was impossible. And then his free hand found my clit and pressed down, creating a sweet pressure.

  My inner muscles clenched around his fingers as I searched for sweet release.

  It was so slick between my legs he moved with ease, slipping out of my hole and making me cry out, but even as I protested, his fingers moved up and down my slit, slipping down into the base of my butt crack and then back up to penetrate my hole again.

  “Don’t stop,” I whispered as he pumped his fingers farther inside. His palm settled over my clit, pressing down as his fingers splayed out over my lower belly. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, the two fingers inside me curled forward and pleasure burst through me like a bomb demolishing an entire building.

  I shouted with the release, my body arching up off the table as I cried out, and every part of me shook. He kept pumping his fingers, coaxing out more and more pleasure until I collapsed against the leather, boneless and drained.

  Seconds ticked by. He withdrew his fingers. I glanced down, noting the way they glistened from my orgasm. I felt the penetrating gaze from beneath the hood, and then he took his drenched fingers and wiped them on the inside of my thigh. I shuddered. Every single part of me was uber sensitive from what I’d just experience.

  The sucking motion on my breasts stopped and the cups disappeared. I was so utterly relaxed that I didn’t even care I was completely naked and shaking on a table in the center of the room.

  I was pretty sure… No, I was totally sure I had never felt so completely satisfied, ever.

  “First part of experiment is over,” he said, standing over me.

  “I want to see your face.”

  “Next time,” he said, wrapping his fingers around my wrist.

  “Next time?”

  “I’m not done with you yet,” he said. His other hand wrapped around the top of my head.

  A little thrill raced over me with his promise.

  Then I remembered what other promise he made. He said I wouldn’t remember this.

  I didn’t want to forget the kind of world-rocking pleasure I just experienced.

  “Please,” I said, touching the hand on my head. “Don’t make me forget. I want to remember.”

  His fingers went lax against my forehead as I held on to his wrist. Bright neon light flooded the room, and I squeezed my eyes shut, turning away my head. The next thing I knew, I was being laid on something hard and cold, something that wasn’t nearly as comfortable as the leather chair.

  I opened my eyes.

  I was back on my street, my Jeep just feet away. I was dressed in my jeans and shirt. I looked up at the sky, expecting to see something hovering overhead.

  The only thing I saw were stars.

  No ship. No aliens. Nothing.

  I stood up. My legs felt wobbly at first as I moved forward. What the hell just happened to me? Maybe I was hallucinating. Maybe someone slipped something in my soda at the bar.

  I walked toward the Jeep, the seam of my jeans rubbing against my crotch. I paused. Where the hell were my underwear? And why did I feel so wet and stretched down there?

  On impulse, I looked beneath my T-shirt. I wasn’t wearing my bra, either.

  It was real.

  I remembered. He didn’t take away the memory.

  What’s more… He said he’d be back.

  the craving

  I

  couldn’t concentrate. It was like my body still hummed from that night.

  I still looked the same. I still talked and walked the same. But everything was different.

  Aliens existed. They knew about us, our planet… and they were curious. Instead of being freaked out like I probably should be, I was curious. Now more than ever, I wanted to see the face he kept hidden. I wanted to know where he came from, why he was here, and why he chose me.

  Maybe it was stupid of me, but I wasn’t even frightened. I didn’t feel threatened by him. By any of them. Was I being blinded by lust? Was I literally letting my libido think for me? I had been scared when I was first taken onto the ship.

  And then he started touching me. His curiosity drew out my desire, and my reaction to the things he did seemed to propel him further. I’d never experienced anything like that before. Could I even call it sex?

  It was pretty one-sided. The only part of him that entered me was his fingers. It was like he was solely intent on pleasing me and only me. Usually, with guys, it was about their pleasure. There would be a little kissing, a little fondling here and there, and then they would jump right to the part where they were sticking their cock inside me. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy sex with guys; it was just that I never really felt like they tried to please me.

  But that night… oh, that night had been nothing but pleasure. He seemed to know exactly where to stroke, when to apply pressure, and when to take it away. His gaze was often times penetrating, and I think I understood why. He was intent on my reactions. He wanted to know exactly what I liked.

  I couldn’t be scared when someone’s sole purpose was to see what satisfied me most.

  It had been over a week since that night, but I still thought about it almost constantly. At night, I would look up into the sky and wonder if he would actually come back like he said. I waited for him. I craved him. I wanted more.

  A sharp thud in front of me caused me to jerk suddenly and press a hand to my chest. The noise of the bar pressed in on me, flooding back, reminding me I was supposed to be working.

  “Soph,” Matt said from the other side of the bar. “Are you okay?”

  I glanced up into his concerned face. Tonight his eyes looked green. “Yeah, of course. I guess I was just daydreaming.”

  He smirked. “Well, it must have been a good daydream ‘cause you’ve been standing there for five minutes.”

  “Shit,” I said and put the beers and martini on my serving tray.

  “Who’s the guy?” Jess said, sidling up beside me.

  “What?”

  She grinned. “The guy? A girl doesn’t daydream like that unless there’s a guy.”

  I felt Matt’s stare, and my cheeks heated. “There’s no guy.”

  Jess made a sound like she didn’t believe me. “Sure there’s not.”

  I shrugged. “Nope.” And then I went off to deliver the drinks.

  I kept my head focused on work the rest of the night. Every time I found myself gazing out the window, up at the sky, I would yank back my thoughts and tell myself to stop it.

  I was being ridiculous. Maybe I was losing my mind.

  I mean, aliens? That was outrageous. Maybe it had been a really realistic dream. The odds of something like that actually happening were like zero.

  Maybe I was sexually frustrated and that dream was my body’s way of getting what it wanted. If that were the case, then my body had some pretty freaky fantasies.

  By the time my shift was over and the bar was emptying out, I wanted to go home and go to bed. I was exhausted, mentally and physically. After putting away all my stuff and tallying up my tips, I put away my apron and grabbed my bag from behind the bar.

  “Hey,” Matt said, coming up behind me as I was stepping around the counter.

  “Ugh, busy night,” I said.

  “Tell me about it.”

  I smiled at him over my sho
ulder. “You probably have a pocket full of phone numbers.”

  He shrugged. “You seeing someone?”

  I wrinkled my nose. Why would he be asking me that? “No.”

  His eyes narrowed on my face like he thought I was lying. “I want to know, Sophie.”

  “I told you,” I said, spinning all the way around to face him. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

  “Jess seems to think otherwise.”

  “Jess doesn’t know me.”

  “You’ve been distracted lately.”

  “And you think the only reason could be a guy?” I said, annoyed. Never mind that he was sort of right.

  He plowed a hand through his hair and sighed. “Sophie.” His tone held a hint of warning.

  “What does it matter anyway?” I asked. “It isn’t like I haven’t dated guys before.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt is all.”

  There he went with his big brother attitude again. “I’m not going to get hurt, Matt. I’m fine.”

  “You can call me anytime. You know that, right?”

  “I’m sure the girl of the night wouldn’t be too happy with your kid sister interrupting her date.” I said the words kind of bitterly, surprised at the way I sounded.

  I needed to get the hell out of here. I was losing my ever-loving mind. I spun on my sneakers to rush away, but he caught my arm and towed me back behind the row of shelving beside the bar where we kept extra napkins and stuff.

  “Kid sister?” he asked, pinning me with a stare.

  I shrugged. “Isn’t that how you think of me? Why you’re getting all bent out of shape because you think I’m dating some guy who hasn’t come to sit at the bar for you to scope out?”

  Most all the guys I’ve dated in the past have all ended up at the bar, waiting for me to finish my shift. Matt always plied them with beer to loosen their lips so he could ask them a ton of questions. It was so annoying.

  His hand slapped the shelving right beside my head and he stepped forward, pinning me against the wood and crowding my personal space. My heart began to thud in my chest; it became hard to breathe.

  “I do not think of you as my sister,” he growled, leaning in. The green of his eyes was deep tonight, like the moss covering the bark of a tree. It was probably because he was wearing a hunter-green polo shirt with his jeans.

  “Oh,” I muttered. His words actually stung a little. I knew he wasn’t interested in me—like in the way a guy liked a girl—but I still always felt kind of special to him because I thought he saw me as a little sister.

  I took a deep breath. Even hurt, I was still affected by his nearness. Even after a full shift in a rowdy bar, he smelled good. Like he hadn’t even broken a sweat making drinks and slinging beer all night. He was clean and spicy, a deep scent that tantalized my thoughts and scrambled any words I might have said.

  “You think of me as a brother?” he said, lifting his eyebrows.

  Of course I didn’t. Hell, I considered it a good thing he was an only child because I would have felt sorry for any sister he might have had. That poor girl would have been tormented for life with such an enticing sibling.

  “I thought we were friends,” I said, indirectly answering the question.

  His body language relaxed, making me realize how tense he’d been before. The change in his posture brought him a little closer. I looked up to see if anyone was watching us, but I couldn’t see over his broad shoulder.

  “We are friends,” he said softly, dragging the pad of his thumb down the side of my cheek.

  I felt like my insides were filled with quicksand and I was being slowly dragged in, being buried by that single, innocent touch.

  He pulled his hand away and my eyes inadvertently followed. “Hey,” he said, tipping up my chin so he could look into my face. “If you need me, you call. I’ll drop whatever I’m doing and be there.”

  I couldn’t say anything. My tongue felt thick and my throat felt swollen. Instead, I nodded. Before pulling away completely, Matt tugged the end of my ponytail and gave me a lopsided smile.

  I stood there for long seconds, even after he went back behind the bar, before I could move. What just happened? Why did it feel like something between Matt and me just shifted?

  I really was losing my damn mind.

  First, I think I’m abducted by aliens, and now, I’m imagining Matt was implying some kind of interest in me beyond friendship.

  I rushed out of the bar and into the parking lot at the side of the building. I sucked in lungfuls of cold air and let it burn my chest and clear the fog clouding my head.

  I tore the band out of my hair and let the dark strands fall down around my shoulders, then hopped into the Jeep, throwing it in reverse and pulling out onto the two-lane road. The wind pushed at my hair, and I welcomed the strands against my cheeks and eyes.

  I needed a distraction. A distraction from myself.

  Maybe I was just sleep deprived. I’d been up and down every night the past week, looking out the window. A hot shower and bed was exactly what I needed. Maybe I would just sleep in and skip class in the morning. Surely I’d feel better, less confused.

  As I drove, I couldn’t help but think about Matt, the way he touched my cheek earlier, the way he declared I was not his sister.

  Was he trying to play me? Play me like he played all the women who sat at the bar, all the women he took out on dates and likely never called?

  I wasn’t going to be a victim to his charm. I knew better. But damn, why did he have to look at me like that?

  My headlights speared the empty road as I headed toward my apartment. Usually, I enjoyed the drive home from work, the cold air, the night sky, the long grass illuminated in the yellow glow from the Jeep. Not tonight. Tonight, I didn’t pay attention to any of it. Tonight, I only wanted to go home.

  Beneath me, the Jeep stuttered. I pressed the gas all the way to the floor. Still, the car didn’t obey. It shut down right there in the center of the one-lane road, slowly rolling to a halt.

  I pulled out my phone to look at the time. It was dead too.

  It was just like last time. Like last week. The minute I was returned from the spaceship, my phone was working once more and so was my Jeep.

  The last words he said while I was up there… in his ship echoed through the deepest recesses of my mind. I’m not done with you yet.

  A jolt of anticipation shot through me like a lightning bolt in a rainstorm. I tilted back my head and looked up as bright light filled the darkness overhead.

  the satisfaction

  I

  was brought aboard the hovercraft again. This time he didn’t come below to get me; I was drawn up alone.

  He was waiting for me, still hidden in the folds of the silver robe, still keeping his face from my eyes. Part of me whispered that I should be afraid, that they could be back to do something awful to me, something they’d been planning this entire time.

  The other part of me was secretly thrilled. I wanted more; I wondered what new kind of pleasure he would introduce me to.

  “You came back,” I said, not moving from the spot I was delivered to.

  “We are not done,” he said, his accent washing over my body and making me tremble. It was like I was one of Pavlov’s dogs, but instead of being conditioned for food by the sound of a bell, I was conditioned for sexual pleasure by the sound of his exotic voice.

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “You’re very healthy for your species,” he replied. “A good candidate.”

  “A candidate for what?”

  “For more research,” he said.

  A heavy feeling dropped into my lower abdomen, and the place between my legs began to throb. I resisted the urge to squirm under the idea of more “research.”

  “Come,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the center of the craft. The leather chair was already raised from the floor. It was cast in a blue-ish tone from the lighting overhead.

  I did
n’t obey immediately. I just stood there as he approached the chair. When he realized I wasn’t following, he flicked his hand toward me and an invisible force towed me closer.

  “Remove your clothes,” he told me.

  I swallowed.

  “The pleasure you felt last time, I will deliver more.”

  I pulled off my clothes. I could tell you I did it because I was scared of what he would do if I refused, but that would be a lie. I wanted to undress; I wanted more.

  When I was completely naked, I slid into the chair. The little massaging vibration was already on and so was the heat. I relaxed against it like I was at the spa. Strangely, I wasn’t embarrassed to be completely nude, completely exposed. If anything, it turned me on more.

  He came to the side of the chair. The hood fell down low as he tilted his head down. “It intrigues me how your kind feels so much pleasure.”

  “You don’t?” I asked.

  “No. Our bodies are made differently than yours.” He reached with those overly long, marble-like fingers and wrapped them around my breast.

  Instantly, my nipple hardened.

  “For example, a touch like this would not affect someone like me.”

  I moaned a little because he squeezed gently, the heat from his hand penetrating my skin. He plucked at my nipple like he was playing a guitar, and my flesh started to quiver and hum. My breast throbbed with so much need I couldn’t help it. I reached up and grabbed it, squeezing firmly and making a sound of relief.

  His hand left my breast and traveled down my ribs, climbing over my hipbone and around to my thigh. “Roll over,” he instructed.

  I stilled and glanced up.

  “Onto your belly,” he said.

  Slowly, I did as he bid, rolling so my chest and belly pressed against the chair. The massaging motion of the chair tingled my already sensitive breasts. He adjusted my legs and unlatched the chair, spreading my thighs wide.

  I felt both his hands on my butt cheeks, like he was tracing their shape and palming the fullness. His fingers crept up to wrap around the small of my back and then drag up my sides to tease the rounded part of my breasts sticking out from beneath me.