Page 255 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

MELLY

I didn’t work today. Usually I did, but I said I’d fill in for Ethan, the part-time librarian, so he could go to San Diego with his girlfriend for spring break.

He was swapping with me, one of the days being today, so I didn’t go into overtime while he was away.

There was no library budget to pay anyone time and a half.

When we’d worked out the change of schedule, I didn’t know I’d be having sex with a burly lumberjack the night before. Or get caught by his four snooping brothers. Or stay up all night tossing and turning because I couldn’t stop thinking about what we did.

How I behaved.

How had I behaved? Completely anti-Melly Harwood. I’d suggested picking out lube from an online store. My cheeks heated remembering, although Daniel had been bemused and game. What man wouldn’t be up for a little butt stuff?

I wasn’t sure if it was Daniel himself that brought out the naughtiness in me or the fact that he’d given me the space I needed to let go. By space, I meant his house. I loved, loved, LOVED the idea of being able to do, be, act, feel, move, scream–whatever verb I wanted–with him there.

It had been freeing.

Exhilarating.

Wild.

Naughty.

And I hadn’t been a good girl.

I’d been a bad, bad girl and he’d told me so.

I was no longer a virgin and my sore pussy was proof. I couldn’t help but smile.

Because I wasn’t working–and an odd day off was outside of my routine–I did my meal prep first thing, then climbed back in bed and read the latest paperback that I’d yet to put into circulation. A perk of being the town librarian was first dibs on books.

I had my pillows stacked and I was propped up, glasses on, book in hand.

Fred was on her dog bed by the window. This time of day, the sun streamed over her and she was on her back, little legs sticking up in the air.

The noise outside from the landscaping crew didn’t faze her.

I’d peeked out when I got my coffee earlier, saw them unloading a mini-bulldozer, and went back upstairs.

With my bedroom at the back of the house, I’d pretty much ignored them and settled into my book.

Today’s story was a hockey romance. The hero was a professional hockey player and she rescued him in a snowstorm. The sex scenes were scorching and between my own sexy times from the night before with Daniel and this book, I was horny.

I couldn’t help but giggle. I had sex! Actual sex. Not in the dark, beneath-the-covers stuff, but like a romance book. With my own lumberjack. I could still feel him, my pussy a little sore. Mallory would say that my vagina was reminding me it wanted more of Daniel’s dick.

Right now.

He wasn’t here, but my toys were. I had a solid relationship with all of my sex toys. I used them with such frequency I invested in rechargeable batteries. Once Daniel left for Scotland, I would probably have to order more.

I bit my lip, eyed my bedside table. Masturbating was usually a nighttime thing.

After my shower and right before I went to sleep.

An orgasm sleeping pill. But nothing was routine about today, or how I felt.

I set my book down, reached across the bed and fished through the drawer.

I saw the big dildo that I’d told Daniel about.

Now that I saw–and felt–his dick, the toy wasn’t that impressive any longer.

My pussy clenched at the possibility of being fucked by it, especially since I loved the pulsing vibration feature, but I wanted Daniel inside me, not silicone.

In its place, I grabbed my favorite in-a-rush vibrator, the one I called a clit sucker. Rubbing my thighs together, I was all about coming and this one had a powerful, delicious tug that got me there ridiculously fast.

Working my sheets and comforter down, I came up onto my knees, spread them wide, lifted my nightie with one hand and got to work, positioning the circular opening over my clit. I pushed a button on top three times and felt the device turn on and at just the setting and pulling action I liked.

Closing my eyes, I adjusted the little sucker tip until I felt it tug exactly right.

Suck. Pause. Suck. Suck. Pause. Suck. Pause. And so on.

“Oh, yes,” I whispered, imagining Daniel’s head between my thighs again. He wasn’t as precise as the toy, but he was so much better. Beard. Fingers. Lips. Growls.

The pull from the vibrator was doing its job. It was strong and powerful and getting me to orgasm fast.

I was right at the edge and arched my back, tilting my hips into the toy for even more contact. I cupped my breast with my free hand.

The doorbell rang.

My eyes popped open. Who? What…?

Suck. Pause. Suck. Suck. Pause. Suck.

Oh that felt good, so I ignored the door. Come on, orgasm!

The doorbell rang again.

I groaned because I was right there.

They’d go away, whoever it was. I needed to finish and then I’d answer it.

Suck. Pause. Suck. Suck. Pause. Suck.

Yes. “Yes!” I cried, thinking of Daniel and wishing he would fuck me, that the clit suction was really just a tease. My pussy was so lonely now that I knew what it felt like for him to claim it.

A growl cut through my orgasm focus.

I whipped my head toward the voice. There in my bedroom doorway was Daniel.

Body tense, eyes heated, hands undoing his jeans, then reaching in and stroking himself, as if he couldn’t make it a second longer.

“Such a bad girl,” he murmured. “Don’t stop.”