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CHAPTER THREE

Find A Mojo, Lose A Mojo

P ete was shirtless when he answered the door. My breath caught in my throat as I eyed him up and down, taking in his broad shoulders, the forest of black curls on his chest and stomach.

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes, Melanie Black.”

With that, he dragged me in and slammed the door shut. He pulled me to him, his hands suddenly all over me, his mouth pressing urgently against my own. His dick was hard and jabbing up against my hip bone, almost painfully. His lips parted and his warm tongue sought mine.

My nerves were consumed by a flare of heat, and I responded with a fierceness that surprised me. I arched my body against his, tangling fingers into his dark curly hair, dragging his face even closer to mine.

The bed was only metres away, but it suddenly seemed like that was too far.

He tugged at my singlet, and I raised my arms up helpfully, allowing him to drag it off.

The appreciative moan that escaped his lips when his hands met my bare skin reverberated all the way through me.

I ran my fingers down his torso, enjoying his shuddering response.

I unbuttoned my shorts and let them drop to the ground, stepping out of them hastily while fumbling with the drawstring of his pants. He reached down and undid them in one fluid movement. Slipping them over his hips (and his big throbbing dick), they fell to the floor.

His mouth was on my neck, his teeth gently grazing the skin of my throat. I gasped hoarsely, running my hands down the warm expanse of his back, sliding them under the waistband of his boxer briefs. He moaned again, like an animal. Wet heat gushed from my pussy at the sound.

His fingers were on my back, holding my hair away as he unhooked my bra.

The clasp popped open and he tore it off me, one hand already cupping a breast, pinching and twisting at my nipple enough to make me gasp in pleasurable pain.

His breath was hot on my throat as his other hand slipped between my legs, his fingers exploring my wetness.

I reached down and gripped the thick, pulsing shaft that had been pressing insistently against me, stroking him frantically.

“Fuck, Mel, you keep that up and this’ll be over before it even begins,” he muttered hoarsely into my ear, nibbling on my earlobe as he plunged a finger into me.

“Well then, you’d better get this,” I gave him a dirty squeeze, “inside me.” I was panting, rolling my hips to ride his finger, giving him a taste of what he could look forward to.

With a grunt, Pete lowered me to the floor, fumbling for a condom in the pocket of his discarded pants. The next few minutes were a delicious, throbbing blur of tangled arms and legs, of his warm body pressed against mine, inside mine.

Afterwards, we both lay panting on the floor beside the lounge.

His legs were still entwined with mine, and his fingertips trailed up and down my torso, in between my breasts, all the way down and then back up again.

I shivered with the sensation, with the pleasant aching between my thighs.

The rumours were absolutely true – he was very generously proportioned.

I sighed with sleepy, post-sex satisfaction. Pete nudged at my shoulder once. I ignored it. He shoved me a bit harder.

“Mel! Gorgeous, you’re gonna have to get up. You don’t want to fall asleep on the floor – think about how much you’d hurt in the morning. ”

That roused me. I had a match to play tomorrow. I’d forgotten about that in my horny haze. I pulled myself up with a groan and ran a hand through my messy hair.

“Fuck, Mel, you are so damned sexy!” Pete groaned, pressing his hands against my hips. I was suddenly wide awake again.

“Well, you’re not so bad yourself,” I replied coyly, peeking at him through my lashes. He pulled me closer. I gasped, he was loaded and ready for round two.

“Do you think we can make it to the bed this time?” he asked, and I giggled, letting him pull me in that direction.

In the early hours I very quietly let myself out of Pete’s apartment and tiptoed towards the lift. I’d left Pete sprawled on his bed, snoring.

Swiping my card in the door, I eased it open as quietly as I could. The TV was off, but Joel had left the kitchen light on. I wondered if that was his way of apologising for being a douche earlier.

I sneaked up the hallway and into my bedroom. I really wanted a shower, but I was afraid to have another one in case I woke Steve. I pulled off my clothes and slid naked into the sheets.

It was two-thirty. I really needed to sleep.

I couldn’t.

God, did I just do something really stupid? I asked as I stared into the darkness. I didn’t get an answer.

I sat up, reaching for my phone to turn on the music quietly. But even the husky, romantic tones of Jace McKenzie, my favourite singer, couldn’t relax me. If anything, I felt more tense now than before being pounded twice by Pete.

The sex had been decent. Pete had moves, said the right things – he told me how sexy I was, how much I turned him on, how hard he was about to come.

But it just hadn’t felt right. How was it possible to feel like I’d used Pete, and like Pete had used me, at the exact same time?

“Did the trunk live up to its reputation, Stink?” Joel whispered as he opened the door. I slipped further down under the covers – if he found out I slept naked, I’d never live it down .

“Who invited you in?” I whispered through clenched teeth. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I invited myself. Was the Wookie sex as hot as you’d been hoping?”

I grimaced, overwhelmed by the need to unpack it with someone.

“I’m not sure … I mean the sex was fine … more than fine, but I don’t know. Something was missing,” I muttered.

“A foreskin maybe?” Joel asked cheekily.

I fought my twitching lips. “Are you telling me you have one of those?” I asked before thinking about how inappropriate that was.

Joel raised an eyebrow, his hands slipping to the tie of his shorts. A weird little sound gurgled out from the back of my throat.

Joel’s lips curled upwards, and he folded his arms. “I’ll leave you to ponder that one on your own, Stinky.”

“I really need to get some sleep now, Joel,” I grunted. He stood up. My stupid, traitorous eyes snapped straight to his crotch. He noticed and his grin widened as he moved to the door.

“Good luck with that.”

He left silently, and I squeezed my eyes shut to try and clear the vision of the more-than-friendly bulge in Joel’s pants.

Oh God, how was I going to be able to sleep at all with that vision stuck in my head?

Apparently I could.

I woke up what felt like minutes later to Steve thumping on the door.

“Get up, Mel!” I could tell from the tone in his voice that he had some idea about what had happened last night, and he wasn’t happy.

I felt hungover even though I hadn’t had even a sip of alcohol, and sore, not just between my legs. Not a good sign. Struggling out of bed, I padded my way across the hallway to the bathroom. The door was locked. I banged loudly, rubbing at the sleep in my eyes with my other hand.

“Joel, hurry up! I need to shower!” I shouted. The lock clicked and the door swung open.

“Trying to save a bit of time by undressing on the way to the bathroom?” Joel leered down at me.

In my groggy state I’d forgotten that I’d slept naked. I couldn’t even bring myself to care.

“Please get out of my way,” I sighed. Joel stood to one side of the doorway, naked himself except for the towel wrapped around his waist. I had to squeeze past him to get into the room.

“You know, Mel, you look very nice naked. Maybe I could join you in the shower? Help you wash off the stink of Eau de Bigfoot?” he murmured.

“You could try,” I retorted. “Depends on how attached to your testicles you are. And keep it down will you – your dad does not need to know about last night.”

As I closed the bathroom door, I heard him reply in an undertone, “I think he’s already figured it out.”

I tried not to think about that as I tied my hair back and showered hurriedly. Rubbing sunscreen into my face, I winced at the dark circles under my eyes. Oh well, nothing I could do about it now. Hopefully some coffee and breakfast would perk me up.

I tucked one foot under me as I sat down in front of a bowl of Weetbix and fruit.

“Sit straight Mel! You don’t want to twist your back like that!” Steve snapped. I complied obediently, chewing on a fingernail. Joel gave me a sharp look. I stopped chewing and focussed on eating my breakfast.

I was overtired, disgusted with myself, and now Steve was mad at me. Could this day have started any worse?

After breakfast, I tied the laces on my tennis shoes and adjusted my boobs in my training singlet. If I thought I’d been shaking in my shoes before the quarter-final, I was having my own personal earthquake today.

“Deep breaths, Stink,” Joel reminded me from the table. He peered at me over the top of Buff magazine, reaching out to squeeze me on the arm. “You’ll be fine, don’t work yourself up into a lather.”

“Careful Joel, if you keep it up like that, I’ll start thinking that you actually care.” I was proud that my voice didn’t tremble.

“Hey, I’m your personal trainer now. I’m all about ensuring not just your physical fitness, but your emotional wellbeing too.” He grinned lopsidedly at me before burying his nose back in his magazine.

To distract myself from the nerves, I walked over behind him and read over his shoulder.

“Wow, ‘Butt Clenches for Every Situation’ sounds really … deep.” I commented wryly.

Joel turned to me and winked. “Good to see you can still read, Mel – I’ve heard that one-night stands with overly hairy men can cause blindness, you know.”

Steve walked back down the hallway, scowling. Sweat broke out all over me, trickling between my shoulder blades. I reached down and pinched Joel hard on the arm, feeling a sick satisfaction when he flinched. He’d snitched. I was sure of it.