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BAG BOY
CHAPTER 4
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Bagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboy
Not gonna lie, I freaked out a little bit when I didn't hear from her the next day or the one after that. I checked my phone a bazillion times, even rebooting it and bugging my best friend Emmett to text me three separate times just to make sure it was working properly.
Had she grown bored of me? Had I been too passive? Too eager?
I watched the store like a hawk, pacing the break room during my mandatory fifteen-minute breaks from the floor, praying she wouldn't choose to shop while I was trapped behind the heavy steel door.
What if she came into the store and completely ignored me? That would be the worst. Crap, what if she had moved on to another bag boy? That slime ball James would kill for the chance at a lady like . . . Hell, I didn't even know her damn name. How'd I think I held an exclusive claim on her body?
I hated myself a little bit for how much I cared. So she was hot and horny and kinky as fuck. The woman was clearly a cock-tease. After all, what had I actually gotten out of this twisted relationship so far, a few bites of blueberry pie and some new material for the spank bank? Hell, I could buy myself a frozen Mrs. Smith's and queue up my own porn anytime I wanted and save myself the angst this chick was bringing into my life.
I snapped the rubber band against my wrist, wondering if I was a damn fool to still be wearing it.
Cougarcougarcougarcougarcougarcougarcougarcougarcougar
I gave him a couple of days to miss me. I was not a woman to be taken for granted. Been there, done that.
What time do you get off work today?
His response was immediate. Such a good cub.
3
Bring me your schedule when you come to the house.
Did you need a delivery from the store?
Nope.
At 3:12, my doorbell rang. We'd have to talk about his speeding. Later. I schooled my smile and opened the door.
Damn! A bouquet of Gerbera daisies caught me off guard. Judging by his crooked grin, he enjoyed that.
He pressed the flowers into my hand. "Good afternoon."
"These are beautiful. Thank you." I stepped aside to make room for him. "Come in. I'll go put these in some water."
"Oh. I could do that for you," he offered shyly, ". . . I mean, if you want?"
"Ah, of course! This would be that famous Nature's Bounty service?"
"Well . . . no, this is just me," he said. Fuck, he was adorable.
What a refreshing change from the greedy, impatient boys I'd brought home before. This one didn't mind working for it, seemed to enjoy it, even. I liked that.
"Knock yourself out."
He gave me a happy nod and breezed past me toward the kitchen as if he lived here. A few minutes later, he returned to the living room with possibly the least artful flower arrangement I'd ever seen: stems and leaves shoved in one big clump into a too-tall vase, colorful buttons gasping for breath at the lip. It was awful. I loved it.
"You're really getting to know your way around my kitchen."
The way his eyes danced, it appeared he was as pleased about that as I was.
I gave his arm a light squeeze. Note to self: nice biceps. "Why don't you set those right here?"
He bent gracefully to the limestone coffee table and smoothed his tie on the way up. He'd made a real effort to spiff up for our "date." His shirtsleeves were neatly buttoned, tie tightened into a neat knot, and he'd even tamed his wild hair—though none of that would matter soon. The outline of his erection formed a sizeable ridge across his crotch.
"I thought it would be nice to get to know each other a little better."
His lips curled into a smile, his perfect white teeth gleaming behind soft, kissable lips. I liked that he waited for me to explain.
"You can ask me anything you want," I told him.
His smile grew brighter. Apparently, he'd been stocking up.
"However"—I lifted my finger to his chest—"every question is going to cost you one article of clothing . . . of my choosing. Think of this as hangman-meets-strip-poker."
The smile flattened; the eyes darkened; his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. Shit just got real.
"So . . . do you have a question for me?"
"Yes." Fully clothed, he didn't hesitate. "What's your name?"
Ah! Question number one, eh cub?
"Isabella Marie Swan."
He practiced the words as if memorizing nuclear launch codes. His lips danced around the consonants, stretched for the vowels. He'd never forget my name.
"My friends call me Bella." I answered the rise of his eyebrows. "Yes, you may call me Bella. I'd say we're friends, wouldn't you, Edward?"
Nodding vigorously, he remembered to verbalize not one second too soon. "Mmhmm. Absolutely."
Stepping forward, my toes just touching his shoes, I loosened the bulge of his meticulously knotted tie and untucked the loop from all around his collar. Except for his eyes following every movement of my fingers and the quickening of his breath, Edward stood as still as a mannequin while I unbuttoned his shirt. His nipples gathered into tiny peaks as I uncovered him inch by inch.
He sucked in a sharp breath when I tugged the tails of his shirt free of his pants. It took all the self-restraint I possessed not to run my hands through the smattering of light brown curls dusting his pecs. Today is not about that, I reminded myself, then guided the shirt over his shoulders to the floor behind him. The tie hung slack between his tightened nipples.
My young cub had been hiding quite a nice body under that uniform, lean but solid, fit but not gym-rat lumpy. The arms were strong without overwhelming his chest and shoulders— ahh, there were those yummy biceps. His skin was as smooth as butter, practically begging to be licked. Especially the tantalizing V that disappeared into his pants.
"That hangman's noose is a little droopy." I reached in to tighten the knot at his throat and straighten the tails resting on his belly. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. My knuckles skated against his pale skin, and he pebbled with goose bumps.
"Would you like to ask me something else?"
"Definitely." His eyes lit up as if he had a thousand more questions, and he'd spent the last few minutes prioritizing them in his head. "Are you married?"
"A-plus, cub. That is an excellent question to ask a lady who's undressing you in her living room."
I grasped his belt buckle with both hands and jerked his hips around a bit more than was necessary for the sheer pleasure of watching his abs flex to steady him. I tugged the leather through the loops with a dramatic swoosh. "No, I am not married."
He nodded, relieved.
"Next?" If he wanted to waste another article of clothing hearing about my sonofabitch ex, I'd tell him anything he wanted to know.
"Do you have many other . . . cubs?"
God, he was sweet. It made me ache that he cared. "No, Edward"—I opened the button at his waist and unzipped his fly—"you're my only cub right now."
"Okay." His short-lived smile disappeared as the pants came down. His cock strained against the white briefs, marking them with the first drops of arousal.
I shoved his pants down to his light brown Vans. My next play was the briefs, and we both knew it.
"Your move, cub."
He swallowed hard, licked his lips, and went for it. "May I kiss you?"
How he managed to be charming with his pants bunched around his ankles, I'd have to ponder later. I was more than curious what kind of a kisser he was, whether he'd be good right off the bat or if I'd have to teach him. Anyone could see he had the proper equipment; his lips were two ripe cherries plucked off the tree. I hooked my fingers around the waistband of his Under Armours.
It seemed only fair to answer him before I tugged down his briefs. "Yes, you may."
He gasped as his cock sprang free and slapped his belly. I was not disappointed by what I saw though like most of them, the boy needed an introduction to the fine art of manscaping. I savored the revelation of his thick, cut cock as I pushed the underwear down his legs with my foot.
His shoulders squared as he drew himself up, stiffening the rest of his body to match his erection. He stood admirably still except for the restless drumming of fingertips against his sides while he fought off the reflex to cover himself, which would've been a serious no-no. Despite his discomfort, he offered up his body on a silver platter, and I feasted my eyes on the banquet. I was enormously pleased Edward was both wise enough to recognize the test and strong enough to prevail. This one had some serious potential.
Lifting my gaze from his midsection, I met his anxious expression with a gentle smile and offered a tender message, almost a sidebar to our game. "Easy does it, cub. You're doing great."
The tight line of his lips twitched and loosened into a disarming half-smile. Caught off guard, I surprised myself by rewarding him with an outlandish compliment, one I normally would've held in reserve for much later. "I'm very pleased by what I see."
He exhaled heavily as the worry lines on his forehead smoothed out, and the tension left his jaw. He grinned at me, and I couldn't help but grin back.
"Did you want to actually kiss me or just know if I'd allow it?" The poor thing had forgotten entirely, I feared, and I really wanted that kiss. Besides, he'd more than earned it.
With an adorable, self-deprecating huff, Edward shuffled toward me, ran his palms up my arms—a bit of a liberty taken there, but I was disinclined to call him on it—and drew me to his lips, taking care not to rub his naked body against me. His gaze penetrated my own so deeply, I felt momentarily trapped—not that I couldn't escape, but I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to.
His lush lips met my mouth; his tongue brushed mine ever so briefly before pulling away. It was the gentlest of kisses, finished before his slightly minty taste registered on my tongue. My lips tingled as the air touched them again.
He could've taken more, and I would've gladly given it, but I was starting to see that was not his way.
"That was nice," I whispered, our mouths still within striking distance.
"Yeah." The lips that had just kissed me so tenderly stretched open into a brilliant smile. Was it the kiss or knowing how deeply he'd pleased me that had made him so damn happy?
I drew back, falling out of his arms though it was the last thing I wanted to do. Still, decorum was vital. "Did you have another question?" He didn't have much to lose at this point. Socks, shoes, and a tie.
"Yes." His cheeks turned red as he fumbled for courage.
Now he felt embarrassed? What could be more blush-inducing than losing his briefs? He had me curious as hell.
"May I take off your shirt?" he asked.
Oh my, my. The kiss seemed to have injected a dose of recklessness into the boy. I crouched to untie his shoe, stalling while I fought with myself. It would be so easy to say yes. Too easy. I imagined him lifting my shirt over my head, unhooking my bra, looking at me in that way he had, as if there were no one else he'd rather be looking at, lifting his hand to my breast. My nipples voted yes.
Edward shifted his balance while I lifted one foot and tossed away his shoe.
I glanced up, past the bobbing erection. "No, you may not."
His expression registered a flicker of disappointment, but he didn't appear surprised, or for that matter, daunted. Nor did he pause before firing off the next request. "May I take off your shorts?"
I peeled away his tan sock. "Nope."
"Will you take off your shirt for me?" Ah, the hopeful gleam he shot me when he worked that one out!
"Nope, but nice try." Bye-bye, shoe two.
He shrugged and gave me a good-natured grin. I liked that he understood that sometimes the answer was no, and he was still willing to risk it. Eventually, his strategy would pay off, just not all at once. I would've been extremely disappointed if he'd quit before losing every article of clothing. The tie and one sock remained.
He paused for a moment, perhaps prioritizing his remaining requests for maximum impact. "May I see your underwear?"
I pulled off his sock and helped him step out of his pants while I measured my response. Obviously, I knew what he wanted. I'd flashed him the other day in my car, and he was hoping for that and more. Today was about fanning the flames, not burning down the house.
I stood and reached for the top of my tiny white cutoffs. "You may."
His eyebrows lifted with the corners of his mouth as if pulled by a puppet master from above. His gaze followed my fingers as they worked open the button. I grasped the zipper; his mouth fell open. I could almost feel the breath he sucked in as I lowered the metal tab, tooth by tooth, revealing the tiny bow of my hot pink bikini bottoms.
The zipper came to a rest, and I moved my hands to the sides so he could see what little there was to see. "Ta-da!"
His grin broke loose. He honestly seemed overjoyed. "Thank you," he said, raising his gaze to my face again. Shit, he was easy.
I shook my head and smiled at him. "You're welcome." I liked that he didn't pout when I zipped myself back up. He was a glass-half-full kinda guy.
I wished he had more pieces of clothing to bargain with—and I guessed he did, too—but he was down to the drab brown tie. I plucked the pointy tip from his belly and raised it toward the ceiling. "All that's left is your noose. Make it count."
His Adam's apple bobbed. He licked his lips. I couldn't wait to hear this.
"Go on, cub," I whispered into his ear. "Asssssk."
With my face tucked into his neck, he was able to summon his courage for the final request. "Will you touch me?"
Bagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboybagboy
I never thought she'd do it. And the way she hesitated before slipping my tie over my head, I'm not sure Bella did either.
Funny how fantasies don't begin to prepare you for the real thing. I might have puffed my chest out a wee bit as her palm met my chest. She'd bumped her knuckles against me earlier, but that was just a tickle, a tease. This was more than a touch; this was Bella really feeling me, taking my measure as a man.
She slid her hand across my pecs and trapped my nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Her brown eyes widened; she pinched.
I sucked in a sharp breath. She eased up on my nipple.
"Breathe," she whispered. Easier said than done. The woman was a fucking goddess.
I'd messed around with girls before, even managed a few sloppy fucks in my short-lived college days, but that horny fumbling couldn't compare to this. Those other times were like wading in a baby pool; I was in the deep end now.
My body was vibrating with need. Every touch was bliss.
Her fingers skimmed down my arm and plucked the rubber band at my wrist. "I like that you didn't try to trade this for a question."
I nodded, taking credit for a thought that hadn't entered my muddled brain.
She lifted my hand and placed it on top of my dick. Covering my hand with her own, she curled our fingers around my shaft and dragged my hand up and down its length. I threw my head back with a hiss.
She put her lips to my ear. "Watch," she murmured. "Watch us work your cock together."
I let out a whimper that might have been embarrassing if I weren't too horny to care. She was driving me out of my damn mind.
I did as she told me and lowered my gaze to our joined hands. I watched, fascinated, as she jerked me with my own hand. After days of teasing, it seemed she was finally going to get me off.
My soft grunts filled the silence of her living room, rising above the slide of skin against skin. She applied more pressure. I moaned. I was about to splooge all over her expensive rug.
"Are you gonna come for me, baby?"
"Fuck! Yes!"
She let go and swooped up my underwear off the floor.
Stuffing the material into my hand, she stepped back to watch, and—biting her lip—tucked her hands into the front pockets of her tiny hot pants. Her expression reminded me of how she looked fingering herself in her car—flushed cheeks, open mouth, half-lidded eyes. Sexy as fuck.
I wadded up my underwear around the tip as best as I could. Left to my own devices, finally, I fisted my aching cock for all of three seconds and bucked like a wild bronco when the orgasm hit. I couldn't remember ever masturbating standing up, and I feared gravity and volume would win out over my underwear. I clamped down with my right hand so not a drop could escape.
She was smiling when I opened my eyes, definitely looking pleased. With herself or me? Both maybe.
I was beginning to grasp the chasm between horny cub and hungry cougar. She was unpredictable and maybe even a touch cruel, but that just heightened the challenge, made the reward that much more worth the effort.
I'd done something right today, and I couldn't wait to please her again as soon as she would allow it.
A/N: Oh, he sure is an eager beaver... not to mix my animal kingdom metaphors!
Thanks for all your sweet notes on Cougarella and Cubward, and please keep the ideas coming at me! MWAH to Chayasara for fixing my words and to all you cougars for getting excited about them!
XOXO
~BOH
