By: Susan Fanetti

~ 1 ~

“Oh, fuck! Luca, fuck. God, yeah!”

Rhiannon was taking her sweet time, so Luca grabbed her hips in his hands and got her moving faster. The knuckles of his right hand complained sharply. “That’s it, sugar. C’mon. Let’s go.” He shifted his ass on her sofa and got in deep, and then, finally, she went off.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck me! Yeah, yeah, yeah! I’m coming! Now, right now!”

Thanks for the bulletin, he thought and let himself go with a groan.

She dropped onto his chest, and he let her get comfortable, enjoying the waning throbs of her pussy around his cock. Rhee was a good fuck, though maybe he was finding himself at her place a little too often lately. She was convenient. He spent a lot of evenings at Quinn’s; Hugh Quinn, the proprietor, was an old friend. Rhiannon worked there. He knew she was down, and it was often just easier to pay her a little attention toward the end of a night and give her a ride home on his Duc.

Lately, easier seemed, well, easier. His appetite for the conquest had abated somewhat. Just in the past couple of months or so—if that. He didn’t know why. An obnoxious little shit of a voice in the back of his head kept whispering that it had to do with his older brother, Carlo, getting married to a woman he’d thought about maybe just a little too much. He didn’t want Sabina for his own, and he never fantasized about her—or, anyway, he’d stopped casting her in his fantasies once it became clear that she and Carlo were a sure thing—but there was something about them that made Luca feel ‘off’ in some way.

No good could come from thinking those thoughts through. But whatever—lately he’d been concentrating on sure pussy. Rhiannon, Lynne—Heather, when he could pin her down and get some time with her.

But Rhiannon was draped over him now, kissing and licking his neck, sweeping her hands up his arms and over his shoulders—his right shoulder was kicking up a little fuss tonight—and purring like a cat in cream. It was all just a little too cozy for Luca’s taste.

“God, Luc, that was fantastic. You and your giant dick have just about ruined me for any other guy. You know that, right?” She kissed him, nipping lightly at his bottom lip.

“Nah, Rhee. Lots of guys better for you than me. Pretty much all of ‘em.” He gave her ass a gentle swat. “Up you go, sugar. I gotta roll.”

“You could stay the night sometime, you know. I’d be good with that.”

“I’m up at the ass crack for work, Rhee. You know that. Don’t want to fuck with your sleep.” He didn’t sleep over, ever, with anyone. Hell, he didn’t go near their bedrooms, and he didn’t bring them to his place. He liked to be the one doing the leaving; that way he could be sure the leaving happened when he wanted it to.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fucked in a bed. That led to cuddling, which led to complications.

Not that Rhee wasn’t managing a decent cuddle right here on her sofa. He swatted her again, a little more firmly. “C’mon, girl. Up you go.” When still she didn’t move, he lifted her up off him and set her on the sofa next to him, then got himself up to his feet as he pulled off the condom.

“You make me feel wicked cheap, Luc, always bailing the second your dick starts to go soft.”

The spent condom still dangling from his fingers, he looked down at her. “Sorry, Rhee. I don’t mean to make you feel bad. We can stop this.”

“No—I don’t want that. I just want…”


She shook her head and grabbed her Quinn’s t-shirt from the floor in front of the sofa. She had great tits, with tight little pink nipples that always looked like she was freezing. He was sorry when she pulled the shirt on, but those nipples stuck right up, practically vertical, tenting the cotton and the Quinn’s logo. “Nothing.” She nodded toward his upraised hand. “Your hand’s bleeding again. I’ll get you a bandage.”

“Nah. I’m all set.” He tied off the condom and took it to her little galley kitchen, dropping it in her garbage bin under the sink. Then he rinsed his bloody knuckles under the faucet, trying to ignore the dirty dishes stacked high.

He fucking knew better than to punch some asshole in the mouth. He’d end up with a nasty infection if he wasn’t careful. He wrapped his hand up in some paper towels and went back into Rhiannon’s living room, closing up his jeans as he walked. She was standing in the middle of the room, her panties back on now, too, holding his t-shirt out to him. He took it with a nod and a little smirk of thanks.