Bunnies and Batteries

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

ISBN: 978-1-77130-300-2

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: Cameron Yeager

WARNING:  The  unauthorized  reproduction  or  distribution  of  this
copyrighted  work  is  illegal.    No  part  of  this  book  may  be  used  or
reproduced  electronically  or  in  print  without  written  permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This  is  a  work  of  fiction.  All  names,  characters,  and  places  are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

BUNNIES AND BATTERIES

Angelina Rain

Chapter One

Grace looked out the kitchen window, phone clenched in her

hand, and contemplated getting professional psychiatric help. Stalking
her hunky next-door neighbor couldn’t be healthy. Yet, she couldn’t
pull herself away from the glassy frame that overlooked his backyard.

Clay Sawyer stood in the middle of his lawn, clad in a ripped

pair of denim cargo shorts and a white t-shirt. His blond hair looked
wet with sweat and he ran his arm across his forehead before turning
away. He bent over slightly and his fine derrière was in full view. She
licked her lips, imagining running her fingertips along his delicious
behind.

Grace had met Clay three years ago when she bought her little

house right next door to his. Every time she would go outside, he
would come out too. They would talk about their lives, families, jobs,
past lovers, and dreams. At first, it was just friendship, and she was
okay with that. However, as the conversations grew deeper, longer,
she started to fall for him. He was everything she looked for in a man:
loving, honest, and would make a great husband and father if the fates
deemed it so.

Sometimes while they talked, her panic attack disorder would

sneak in, causing her heart to race and her cheeks to burn. Her words
would come out as stutters, and her body would tremble. Clay never
seemed to notice, though. He wouldn't stare at her like most people
would. He accepted her, never questioning her suddenly strange
actions.

Grace tried to keep her panic attacks under control, and for the

most part, she was pretty good at it. She had trained herself to close
her eyes, breath, and shut the world out when the phantom heart
attack took over.

She sighed deeply as she recalled the time he had asked her

out on a date.

One gloriously warm night eight months ago, she leaned

against her iron fence talking to Clay. He lingered close to her that
whole night, only the thin fence separating their bodies. Taking her
hand, he caressed his thumb over her palm. "I enjoy your friendship,
Grace, but I want more." He brought her hand to his lips.

Suddenly the edges of her vision blurred, and panic settled in

her chest. Her heart started to beat so hard she was short of breath.
Great time to have a panic attack!

"Are you okay?" Concern flashed through his features as he

ran his hands up and down her arms.

She tried to answer. Tried to push her illness aside. She closed

her eyes and swallowed hard, as icy fingers traveled over her spine.

"You're shaking."
Grace wanted to run into his arms and kiss him. The amount

of care she heard in his voice took her breath away.

Sweat broke out all over her body. Something buzzed in her

ears and her skin seemed to burn.

Clay cupped her face in his hands, lifting her chin. She opened

her eyes and saw heartbreak reflected in his. "I was about to ask you
out, but given your reaction, I think you'll say no."

But I'll say yes! She opened her mouth to speak but no words

came out. Nausea swirled within her, and the contents of her stomach
emptied out all over his shirt, pants, and shoes.

He stepped back, a look of disgust etched into his face. She

wanted to say she was sorry, but instead tears sprang to her eyes, and
she ran into her house like a scared animal with her tail tucked
between her legs.

That had been mortifying.
Even now, as she stared out the window, all she could

remember was that night. That horrible, terrible, panic attack stricken
night.

They hadn't spoken since. Yet, she couldn't forget him,

couldn't forget the great conversations they shared before she ruined
their chance at more.

"Hello?" a voice over the phone asked, bringing her back to

the present. The memory faded quickly, replaced by reality. Grace

shook her head at her foolishness. Here she was, on the phone with
her mother, wishing she could be in the arms of the man next door.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"
"I asked you how’s work going?"
"Oh, work."
Clay picked up a large wooden log and ran his hand along the

surface. She imagined his fingers running along her surfaces. Her
breath caught in her throat and Grace swallowed hard.

"Well, my boss cut my hours." She worked as a secretary at a

large landscaping company, but business wasn’t going so well. With
declining accounts and a cheaper competitor, Grace was surprised
they asked her to work at all.

“You were already living pay check to pay check. What are

you going to do now?”

Clay put the wooden log on a table saw and turned around. His

gaze shifted toward her window and she took a quick step backward
to avoid being seen. Her bare foot landed on something furry, and a
whimpering noise filled the kitchen. She jumped and screamed. The
cell phone flew out of her hand and danced in the air until it
gracefully fell onto the kitchen table. She wasn’t so lucky as she
plopped ass first onto the cold tiled floor.

Cello scurried under the table. Glancing at her with fear filled

eyes, he belly crawled to the back door. Grace rolled her eyes at the
Sheltie she adopted a few months ago.

“Grace?” her mother asked through the phone. “Gracie?”
She crawled onto her knees and placed her arms on the table,

pulling herself up.

“Grace? Honey?”
She grabbed the phone and slowly put it to her ear. “I’m here.

I’m fine.”

“What happened?”
“I tripped.” Grace stood and glanced out the window again as

Clay eyed her house curiously. Cello scratched the wooden back door
with his paw and the annoying sound grated through her nerves. She
went to the door and let the skittish dog out.

“So what are you going to do for money? Are you looking for

a part-time job?”

Peeking her head out the door, she waved at Clay. After

waving back, he returned to his work. The bright mid-afternoon sun

was so bright that Grace was blinded once she shut the door. “I’m
looking but not finding anything.”

“You should get married. Find a good husband to take care of

you.” Aw, and here I thought this conversation would be the one
she’d forget to mention my single status.

“I did get one offer. I signed up to review products online.”

Best to deter her mother from talks of marriage. One would think that
a woman who failed in marriage several times would not want her
only daughter to make the same mistake. However, Grace knew her
mother was a hopeless romantic, and no amount of failure was going
to deter her from doing it again, or wanting others to do it as well.

“And how much does that pay?”
Glancing back one last time at the window, she looked at

Clay, then went into the living room and looked out the large front
windows. “It doesn’t pay anything.”

“Doesn’t pay anything?”
“No. The company ships me a product for free, I get to use it

and review it, and I get to keep it.” That was if the product ever
arrived. She’d been waiting weeks already for a shipment.

“That doesn’t sound like a good deal. You don’t get paid.”
“But I get to keep the product for free. And it could be

anything, from beauty products to cleaning supplies. It could even be
a vacuum cleaner.” A UPS truck turned down the street. “I’ll be
saving money by not having to buy that stuff.”

“What happened to your vacuum cleaner?”
“Cello ate the cord.”
“Who’s Cello?”
“The dog I adopted. Remember, I told you about him two

months ago.” It was just like her mother to forget about her newly
acquired fur-baby as she didn’t care for animals herself.

The UPS truck stopped by her house and the driver climbed

out. He carried a package, but unless it contained a super small,
portable vacuum cleaner, she doubted her wish was about to come
true. “Mom, I have to go.”

“Whoa-what?” mother stuttered.
“The deliveryman’s here.” The man was halfway up the

walkway as Grace headed toward the door. Cradling the phone
between ear and shoulder, she sighed the little black box that he
handed to her, then took the small brown package.

She closed the door as the deliveryman walked away. “Well,

Mom, I have to go but it was nice talking to you." She hung up before
mother could protest.

Grace took the package into the kitchen. It was a small brown

cardboard box that weighed between five to ten pounds. Definitely
not a vacuum cleaner. The return address was from The Goody Bag
Warehouse. She’d heard great things about their products. A co-
worker told her about the job offer, said she used the products herself
and that they were all aimed at women and making their lives better.
Grace could hardly wait to open the box and delve into the free
shampoos and body washes, scented candles, and cosmetics. She
grabbed a steak knife out of a drawer and cut the box open. A single
sheet of pink paper lay atop the contents of the box. It read:

Dear Grace Alderson,
We at The Goody Bag are very sorry at the time it took us to

mail out your free products, and for any inconvenience this delay may
have caused. However, we are offering you a monetary payment if
you could have the reviews posted on our website,
TheGoodyBag.com, by midnight of August 6

. We have sent you four

items to review, and if the review is posted on or before the date
mentioned above, you will be paid one hundred dollars for each
product reviewed.
Sincerely,
Trina, at The Goody Bag.

She put the letter down. Midnight August 6

? But that was

seven hours from now! Grace didn’t have the time to test and review
four products in such little time.

Outside, a saw pierced the silence and her gaze drifted to Clay

who was doing something to the wood, but his back was turned to her
and she couldn’t see what. Glancing back at the box, she delved her
hands into it and searched for the first item. Grace expected a body
wash or a tube of lipstick, but instead she pulled out a box with a
plastic window showing the product. It was a purple stick with plastic
bubbles making up its shaft. The bubbles ranged in size starting with
one smaller than a dime to the biggest one being larger than a
doughnut hole. At the very end of the stick, right after the largest
bubble, was a hook large enough to put a finger through. The box read
Anal Beads, and the thought of inserting that into her rear made her
heart beat faster and palms turn warm. Her nipples hardened and she

glanced in Clay’s direction. She’d never had anything shoved in her
rear extremities, but if he were doing the sticking Grace doubted she
would mind.

Turning her attention back to the box, she put the anal beads

aside and pulled out the next item. It was a tube of chocolate covered
strawberry flavored lubricant. Putting that aside, she pulled out a box
of condoms that promised to alternate between cooling to warming
and supposedly felt like naked skin. Reaching into the package one
last time, Grace pulled out a box with a long pink dick with a bunny
attacked to it. The box read Jack Rabbit Vibrator and according to the
yellow star on the box, it required two AA batteries. Right below the
yellow star, there was a hot pink post-it note attached to it.

“I included the batteries in the box.”
She delved her hands into it and found a package of batteries.

The Goody Bag was very sufficient, except they forgot to include a
testing partner. Grace considered how to test the items without the
help of a man, and besides using the vibrator and the beads, she had
no idea how to experiment with the condoms. The condom box read
extra large, but her fingers were long and thin, so she couldn’t glove
them with the latex rubbers.

What if she walked outside and asked Clay to help her? Yeah,

right! After she threw up on him, she really doubted he would agree
to help her. She could imagine Clay calling the cops and saying, “It
was her, the crazy sex pervert next door. She wanted me to shove
things up her ass.” What would her mother think after hearing about
that?

She was about to put the items back into the box and cancel

her reviewer status when her fingers grazed over the letter. One
hundred dollars for every item reviewed and a pile of bills that begged
to be paid. Could she really walk away from that?

Glancing out the window, she studied the blond hunk as he

played with his wood. Grace envisioned herself with her hand
wrapped around his strong cock. That hard muscled body probably
contained a nice, long, thick shaft with a velvety head. She imagined
running her tongue along its tip, lapping up the pre-cum.

Her thighs started to tingle as liquid heat spilled inside her

pussy. Her nipples hardened and started scrapping against her lacy
bra. Closing her eyes, she thought of Clay’s mouth on her breasts, his
tongue flicking across her hard nipples.

She turned her gaze away from Clay and glanced at the deck.

Cello lay on the lounge chair with his paws in mid-air and his male
extremities in full view.

“Nasty dog,” she murmured and pulled the vibrator and beads

out of their boxes. She glanced at the packages and smiled at the
name of the brand that made both products. Bunnies and Batteries. It
had a nice ring to it.

After running both of them through some warm, soapy water,

she inserted the batteries into the vibrator. Grabbing all her new
review products, she headed to the living room.

It was modestly decorated with ivory colored walls, large front

windows that were shaded by a weeping willow outside, and
hardwood floors. The furniture was scarce and modest with a red
leather couch against one all, matching recliner by the windows, and a
television set right next to the fireplace. In the middle of the room
stood a glass top coffee table and two end tables on each side of the
couch. She closed the vertical blinds and pulled out a blanket from the
coat closet. After spreading it across the couch, she stripped off her
denim shorts and maroon tank top. Standing in her lace bra and thong
set, a chill ran past her and her gaze fixated on the pleasure devises on
the coffee table. She unhooked her bra and let her breasts fall free.
Her nipples hardened more against the chill in the air-conditioned
house. She closed her eyes and imagined Clay running his fingers
along the sensitive buds, his hand enclosing around her breast, as her
other breast was sucked in his mouth. Her pussy clenched, and warm
juices escaped her vaginal lips and onto the thong. When she pulled it
down, it was warm and moist and smelled of arousal and sex. Grace
tossed it on the floor and lay on the couch.

It was too silent, and it started to kill the mood.
She grabbed the remote control from the end table and turned

on the television set to one of the many soft nature sound music
channels the cable provided. Grabbing another remote, she turned on
the electric fireplace.

Once she lay back down and closed her eyes, Grace ran her

hand along her breast and her index finger around one pink nipple.
Only it wasn’t her finger she imagined. It was Clay’s. Heat billowed
in her belly. Her pussy ached with need. One hand covered her mound
and when her fingers came away, they were slick and wet with her

juices on them. She trailed those juices over her thighs and belly
before reaching for the vibrator.

She opened her eyes enough to grab the toy and the flicker of

fake lights danced around the walls. Closing her eyes again, she let
the nature instrumentals soothe her, as the low buzz of the vibrator
blended with the music. Upon placing the vibrator on her inner thigh,
pleasant sensations swirled through her, and her pussy tingled to feel
them. She moved the vibrator closer to her core, and the pleasures
multiplied. The instant the tip of the toy touched her folds, liquid heat
exploded within her and Grace’s skin became feverish. However, in
her mind it wasn’t the vibrator at her lips. No, it was Clay, touching
them with his hot tongue. Spreading them apart as he licked at the
juices flowing from her cunt. The vibrations inside her pussy rippled
through her. The beaded round base circled around her vaginal lips
and those sensations alone made her body tingle. Add to that the deep
pulsing inside her from the vibrator’s penis head, and her legs started
to tremble. The little rabbit ears vibrated, rubbing against her clitoris,
sending little shock waves from her pussy to the back of her neck.

She tightened her grip on the base of the pink vibrator and

pulled it almost out, pushed it back in again. With her free hand, she
pinched her nipple and her pussy clenched in response.

“Oh, yeah,” she moaned. “Oh, fuck my pussy.”
She increased the speed of her hand and the vibrator rocked in

and out, in and out.

“Oh, yeah.”
Her back became hot and the blanket under her felt as though

it would spontaneously burst into flames. She pinched her nipple
harder and threw one leg over the back of the couch.

“Oh, fuck me. Make that cunt beg.”
Pleasure rippled through her and her other leg slipped onto the

floor. The sensations were out of this world. Is this what Clay would
feel like?

Her hand ached from pulling the toy in and out. The flickering

lights danced behind her closed eyelids. The juices inside her swollen
pussy leaked around the vibrator, and the sound of it made her heart
beat faster.

“Oh,” she moaned and switched hands.
Little prickles of heat raced through her.
“Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.”

The little hairs on the back of her neck rose.
“Oh,” she moaned.
Her legs started to tingle, starting at her toes and moving up to

her core.

She wished it were Clay who pleasured her, not her own hand.

“Oh, Clay.”

The liquid inside her mounted. As her back started to arch, an

oddly familiar male sound wafted toward her.

****

Clay’s gaze shifted to Grace Alderson’s house, and something similar
to longing filled him. He couldn’t believe the pull that woman had on
him. Nor could he explain why he wanted her so much. Sure, she was
stunning with her long blonde hair, those big, blue doe eyes, and that
sprinkle of freckles on her nose and cheeks. Her lips were full and
thick. And she was a little shorter than his six-foot frame by a couple
of inches. Oh … and that body! She was curvy, very curvy, with a
nice round rear and a set of hips that swayed as she walked.

It wasn't just her looks that attracted him though. Sure at first,

when they were just friends talking to each other over the three foot
iron fence, it had been about the looks. That was until the short
conversations turned into three hour-long discussions. He had fallen
in love with her then. But he didn't fall instantly, it took time. After
each encounter, he cared for her a little more than the last one. Until
one day, he woke with the realization that he loved her, wanted to
marry her, and how the hell could he do that when they were just
friends.

He rubbed his face, trying to relieve it of the tension he felt

inside his heart. How could he even fall in love with anyone he hadn't
even had sex with? Hadn't even kissed?

Damn, he was screwed. He still loved her, desperately, and

would do anything for her, but her feelings weren't mutual. He was
such an idiot for letting her get under his skin and make herself
comfortable in his heart. At one time, Clay had believed that Grace
felt the same. He had seen love sparkle in her eyes, had seen how
nervous and fluttery she would become when he tried to flirt with her.
She was shy, and he thought that nervousness was endearing. He'd

thought it was because she was attracted to him, but learned the
opposite to be true.

Clay had taken a chance. He tried to claim her heart, her body,

her full love, and return it all to her tenfold. Instead, she ripped his
heart out. He could still remember that horrid look on her face when
he tried to ask her out on a date, tried to take their relationship to the
next level. God, she was so repulsed by him that she threw up! How
could he have been so wrong about her?

Clay returned his attention back to the woodcarving that was

starting to look like the figure of a woman. His muscles rippled as he
pressed the button on the jigsaw. The device came to life with a buzz
and a vibrating jagged blade. Putting it to the wood, he cut a piece.
Splinters flew in every direction, landing on the soft green grass.
Once he turned off the jigsaw and put it on the ground, Clay bent
down and blew out a soft puff of air. Splinters flew off and danced,
almost glittering in the bright sunlight. Grabbing a sheet of sandpaper,
he smoothed the edge he had just cut off. Then, he blew the remaining
splinters off the surface and ran his fingers along the curvy lines of
the carving.

His fingers traveled from the breast line down through the

narrow waistline and down to the flare of shapely wooden hips. He
had been hired to create a six foot tall artistic wooden statue of a
naked woman. It was supposed to a random woman, but the curves
were starting to look familiar. It was Grace’s figure, he realized, and
while his hands were touching wood, he imagined touching her
instead. He wanted to touch Grace, wanted to feel the smooth surface
of her skin.

His cock hardened at the lustful thought running through his

mind. He gripped the wood, admiring the weight and feel of it against
his skin. The surface of it was warm and smooth.

“Ouch!” He pulled his hands away and looked at his left palm.

Damn splinter!

Clay abandoned his yard and woodwork and made his way

into the house through the kitchen door. He grabbed the pair of
tweezers that he kept on the windowsill just above the sink for
moments like this.

The sunlight streaming through the window gave him enough

light to see the little splinter lodged into the middle of his palm.

Carefully, he put the tweezers over the sliver of wood and squeezed
the metal sides, pulling the splinter out and dropping it into the sink.

Glancing down, Clay groaned. His shirt was covered in wood

dust. Careful not to get another splinter, he peeled the shirt off and
threw it on the floor. Running his hands under the soap dispenser and
cold water, he washed the remaining wood off and splashed some
water on his chest and abs. The cold felt good against his heated skin.

After toweling himself off, he walked back outside into the hot

early evening sunlight.

Glancing to the right, he noted Cello at Grace’s kitchen door.

Clay ignored the dog and headed to his workstation where he picked
up the jigsaw and pressed the button.

“Woof, woof.”
The dog turned to him and Clay saw the begging in his eyes.
Damn it! He turned off the device and put it back down.

Jumping over the fence, he intended only to open her kitchen door
and let the dog inside. However, the instant he went to do it, a low
scream pierced the air.

It was feminine and throaty and almost seductive. Like a

whimper, one of possible pleasure or pain.

Maybe she was with …
No, he brushed the idea away. He hadn’t seen any man enter

her house. But what if she had fallen and hurt herself?

He opened the door and Cello rushed in, running straight to

his water bowl at the corner by the kitchen table.

Another moan pierced the air.
“Grace?”
No response.
He stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind him.

Clay hadn't been inside her house since their friendship ended. There
were several times when she had invited him over for pizza and a
movie when they were just friends. Before he ruined it with his
romantic intentions. Her place hadn't changed. He took in the same
light kitchen with its white walls, white floors, and pale wood
cabinets and table. The appliances were a light ivory and a bit aged. It
was the black marble countertops that brought life into the small
space.

Stepping into the next room, he came into the dark living

space. Flickering shadows of light from the fireplace danced across

the walls, and soft music came from the television. Yet, what grabbed
his attention was Grace.

She lay naked on the red leather couch, a black blanket under

her back. One long, shapely leg thrown over the back while the other
was on the hardwood floor. Her head was on a little red and black
throw pillow. Long strands of golden hair were scattered around her
head like a halo. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open, as another
soft moan escaped those luscious lips.

One hand tirelessly pinched a hard pink nipple. Her breasts

weren’t big. They were a perfect handful, or mouthful.

His breath caught in his throat and his mouth fell open as he

watched her. He wanted to touch those breasts with his hands, his lips,
his tongue. He wanted to bite onto one of those nipples and pull it
lightly until she screamed for more. He wished to hear that soft moan
again. And again!

Grace had a pink vibrator inside her core, pulling it in and out.

The smell of sex filled the room and his erection rubbed against the
fabric of his boxers. The scratch of it pained his penis head and he
stuck his hand inside his shorts and stroked himself. The feel warmed
him all over, and he wished it were her hand instead. His gaze fixed
on Grace as she continued to pull the vibrator in and out.

He knew he should leave. Knew it was wrong to stand there,

uninvited. Yet, Clay couldn’t tear his gaze away. He watched, mouth
agape, with his hand in his shorts. The strain became too painful and
he pulled out his hand.

Grace switched hands, tweaking her other nipple as she

continued pulling the vibrator in and out. Her legs started to tremble
as she arched her back. Her mouth fell open and a scream escaped her
throat. "Oh, Clay," she said around a moan.

His cock jutted inside his shorts. Did he hear right? Did she

really just say his name? Her eyes were still closed, so she couldn't
possibly know he stood before her. Could it be that she felt some of
the same emotions toward him that he felt for her?

A groan escaped his throat at the thought of her returning his

love. He bit his bottom lip, regretting the sound he made. He stared at
her face as her eyes opened. Her pupils were dilated, and her eyes
were a darker blue than usual. Their gazes met. Her face quickly
turned from pleasure, to shock, to panic, and she screamed as an
orgasm ripped through her.

****

Grace opened her eyes and her gaze locked on a set of blue eyes. As
though taken out of her imagination, Clay Sawyer stood in her living
room.

Her heart rate increased as she tried to breath deep.
She should have stopped, but her orgasm was close, too damn

close. The lights started to dance before her eyes, and before she
knew it, spasms ripped through her. Her pussy started to clench and
release around the pink vibrator as she fell back against the couch
cushions. A scream escaped her lips, and all this time she couldn’t
tare her gaze away from his.

There he was, standing in her house, watching her as she

pleasured herself.

This had to be a fantasy. No way could it really be happening.
As her pleasure slowly eased, reality hit her. Clay was in her

house, watching her masturbate. She was both scared and aroused at
the same time.

Sudden chills raced over her body and a cold sweat covered

her brows. Her heart raced as though running a marathon. Great!
Another panic attack!

Her hands trembled as she pulled out the vibrator. It was

covered in her wet juices. Grace threw it on the cushion and grabbed
the black blanket, quickly draping her body with it as she stood on
shaky legs.

“What are you doing in here?”
“Cello wanted to come in.” He looked uncomfortable as hell

but cleared his throat and met her eyes. "Why did you call out my
name?"

Before she could wrap her mind around what had just

happened, he moved close to her, too close. Her breath lodged in her
throat. Nausea swirled within her and she closed her eyes.

"Did you know I was in the room?"
She shook her head. It felt like she was falling.
"Were you fantasizing about me?"
She tried to take a step backward but his arms snaked around

her. She lost her grip on the blanket and it crumpled to the ground,

leaving her naked body exposed. Her body was burning up, the panic
so strong she could taste it.

Breath. She urged herself. Breath. Don't throw up on him

again. Tears almost sprang to her eyes at the memory.

Grace opened her eyes, forcing herself to act normal.
Clay stood before her but his eyes were downcast. “Luscious,”

he said and lifted his gaze. His pupils were dilated and a much darker
blue than usual.

Her breath caught in her throat when he pulled her to him. The

strain of his erection jutted against her belly and she regretted the feel
of his shorts instead of skin. Her heart beat faster. But not the sick,
feeling faint kind of fast. No, her heart was racing from lust. She had
managed to push her panic at bay, at least for now.

His mouth engulfed hers and heat exploded around her. His

hot tongue lashed into her mouth, seeking, searching, tasting.

Clay’s hands moved up and down her naked back before one

snaked over the front and cupped one breast.

She moaned. The feel of his hand on her was better than she

imagined. His palm was large and calloused from hard work.
Possessive. He squeezed her breast softly, and liquid heat pooled
inside her pussy. It suddenly felt empty and all she wanted was to feel
his cock inside her. She put one hand on his side, mere inches above
the waistline of his cargo shorts, and pulled her mouth away from his.

He ran a finger along her cheek as she lifted her gaze to his.
“If you want me to leave, just say it and I’m gone.”
Did she want him to leave?
She looked down at the strain of his shorts and the bulge in

them. All she wanted was to see that bulge, to touch it, taste it, feel it
inside her. Grace had wanted to be in his arms for so long, how could
she say no to him now? Her panic didn't seem to be as severe this
time, and if she could keep it at bay and show him how she really felt,
she would do just that.

“What do you want?” His hand trailed up and down her back,

massaging it softly. “Tell me what you want.”

Grace couldn’t look up and meet his gaze. Nerves that she

tried to control still danced around her head. "You," she said, her
word a whisper.

With trembling fingers, she trailed the line of his waistband

and her fingers came together on the zipper. Slowly, she pulled it
down and the shorts flapped open.

Before she could proceed further, Clay cupped her face and

kissed her lips. His mouth was warm, the kiss tender at first, desperate
with every dip of his tongue. She moaned against him, her pussy
drenching because of his kisses.

"Touch me," she moaned against his mouth.
Gently, he sat her on the couch and spread her legs, resting

them on his shoulders. He pulled her close until she was on the edge
of the cushion. Clay blew a cold breath into her core, tingling and
tickling her. Grace squirmed and bucked her hips. He buried his head
between her legs and separated her folds with his tongue. The heat of
his mouth raced through her body. She gripped the cushion with both
hands, digging her fingers into it as the sensations seeped in. His
tongue lapped through her again, finding her clit this time. She closed
her eyes and moaned, throwing her head back as she rode the passion
within her. She never imagined it could be like this.

Clay flicked his tongue over her clit and she felt it all through

her back, in her neck, in her toes and fingertips. It was like magic.
She'd had sex before and honestly hadn't known what all the hype was
about, why people seemed to lose their minds over it. Now she knew.
Now she felt what others had all along. It was the best feeling ever.

His tongue flipped as he dipped two fingers inside her. He

moved them slowly at first, then faster with every stroke. Her fingers
dug into the couch cushion until her knuckles turned white. It was too
much. Bliss raced through her in waves, like sea waves crashing over
and over on a sandy shore. She came around his fingers, clenching
and releasing them as her heart raced and her spine tingled.

Clay pulled his digits out of her and licked the wetness away.

She was in awe as she reached out and touched him, gripped his head
and pulled him up. When their lips crashed against each other, she
tasted him and herself. The taste was exotic, like a drug, alluring and
seductive. Fresh arousal seized her and she needed him again. Needed
to taste him. To touch his hard cock, to truly feel what it could do.

She shifted until she knelt on the floor and he stood before her.

She pulled his shorts and boxers down all at the same time, careful so
as not to hurt his straining erection. His cock sprang out, almost

hitting her in the face. She angled her head a little and stuck her
tongue out, touching the tip of his dick.

Slowly, she sucked him into her mouth. He tasted like man:

salty and absolutely exquisite.

His breath caught and she smiled recalling all the products

she'd been sent. She reached out toward the coffee table and took the
flavored lube. It was a shame to cover his taste, but she wanted to see
how it mixed with this added flavor. After uncapping the bottle, Grace
drizzled the clear liquid over his cock and rubbed it in with her hand.
His groan was music to her ears as she again took him into her mouth.

The taste of him combined with chocolate strawberries

lingered on her tongue. She sucked him, curled her tongue around
him, until he was almost shaking with his impending release.

Clay pulled himself out of her mouth. His breathing was hard.

"Baby, if you don't stop, I'll come in your mouth." He panted. "And I
want to be inside you."

She stood up and ran her hands over his chest, loving the hard

muscles under her fingertips.

He kissed her lips and wrapped his arms around her back,

holding her close. Only when he pulled away did she notice his gaze
was on the toys atop the coffee table. He picked up the plastic anal
beads stick. “Do you like using these?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never actually used them.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Really? Than why do you have

them?”

“I signed up as a product reviewer. This is what they sent me.”
“So you’ve never used this before?”
She shook her head.
He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it. Clay

turned her around so her back pressed into his chest. He bent her over
and placed her hands on the back of the couch, making her kneel on
the cushion.

He bit her butt cheek. “Do you want me to shove those beads

up your ass?”

Oh, yes! The thought made her head swim. She nodded.
He cupped her mound and moved the heel of his hand around

in small circles. “Tell me how much you want it."

“I want it,” she begged.

He licked her butt cheek while one hand massaged her clit and

the other came up to cup her breast and pinch one rosy nipple. "I'm
not convinced."

“Please," her voice quivered with need. "I want to feel it in my

ass." I want to feel you in my pussy.

Something cold and liquid touched her anus and she sucked in

a breath as lubricant leaked down her thighs. Then one small bead
entered her anus. It was slow, very slow, and she moaned when it
made its entrance.

“Now what do you want?”
“Shove the next one in me.” Please, oh please!
He moved over her and whispered in her ear, “Stop me if I

hurt you.” He pulled away.

Her pussy pooled at his caring words. “I don't think you could

ever hurt me.”

Oh, damn. Her nipples ached from pleasure. Her pussy leaked

and begged to be penetrated. And her ass … her ass needed to feel
those beads stretching it.

He shoved two more beads in and she arched her back,

gripping onto the back of the leather couch. A scream escaped her lips
and heat flushed through her.

He sat next to her and tapped on his lap, motioning her over.

As she straddled him, Clay pulled one nipple into his mouth and
sucked it, flicking his tongue over it, over and over again, before
gently sinking his teeth around it. Hot spasms raced through her.

His arms snaked around her, gripping her ass. Then he shoved

two more beads inside her and her pussy leaked out some juiced onto
her thighs and his. She leaned back and he pulled her nipple with his
teeth. Pleasure and pain swirled through her and she moaned while he
groaned. Her nipple escaped his clutches as she reached out for the
pack of condoms on the glass table top.

Clay put his hands on her upper back and pulled her back to

him. Her hair danced over her shoulders and in her face. She swiped
at it before opening the box. She pulled out a single condom and
ripped the wrapper open, pulling it out of its cocoon. Slowly, she
lowered the rubber over Clay’s erection. His cock jutted and he
groaned.

She repositioned herself over him and slowly descended onto

his cock. It was long, thick, and hard. And it was hot. Very hot. Her
entire body broke out in sweat.

He filled her, fulfilled her, and she had never felt better.
Grace pulled herself up and it was as though an ice cube was

placed inside her pussy. Cold ran along her body and she descended
back on him and into the heat. As she lowered herself over him, Clay
shoved the rest of the bead stick into her ass. Her legs vibrated as she
pulled herself up. Cold encircled her and Clay pulled the beads out,
almost to the last one. When she lowered herself over him again, the
heat and the beads both entered her simultaneously. She increased the
pace, riding out the waves of hot and cold. Pleasure started mounting
and her pussy and ass clenched. The orgasm started as a ripple, slow,
nearby, but she couldn't grip it. And then it exploded within her. She
arched her back, then collapsed on top of Clay, with his cock still
inside her and the anal beads still in her ass. Her mouth opened over
the softness of his neck and she kissed his flesh.

Clay groaned deeply and moved the beads in and out, each

stoke quicker and harder. As a second orgasm rippled through her, she
cried out in pleasure. Her bottom lip roamed over his before claiming
it into her mouth. Again she started to move her hips over his. Her
legs were heavy but she forced herself to ride him. She had to let him
release too. Grace wasn't sure she could handle another orgasm, as the
last still danced inside her, but it was about him too.

The sound of flesh against flesh was music to her ears as she

rode into another orgasm. Her pussy clenched and released around
him, milking him, and he groaned loud and hard as his hands dug into
her body, gripping her as if holding onto dear life. Deep inside her, he
jutted his juices into the condom as her cunt squeezed it around him.

He pulled the beads out of her ass and another small set of

shockwaves rippled through her. Finally, she collapsed against him.
They sat like that for what seemed like forever until she lifted herself
off his lap. Her legs still twitched.

Clay pulled her into his arms and she laid her head down on

his shoulder. She was completely spent.

His hands moved up and down her back, caressing her softly.

She lifted her gaze and saw something she couldn't pinpoint in his
expression. Heartbreak? Disappointment? Did he not enjoy her? Did
he find her repulsive still?

"What's wrong?" Her voice broke while she asked, afraid of

the answer that would follow.

He shook his head but met her eyes. His own were intense.

"Why did you call out my name when you were playing with that
vibrator?"

She turned away, pulled away, suddenly nervous again. How

could she explain to him that she loved him, was in love with him? He
wouldn't believe her, not after she threw up on him when he asked her
out. And surely he didn't feel the same. Clearly, at some point, he had
had a crush on her, maybe he could have fallen in love with her
eventually, but she had closed the doors to that possibility.

"Answer me," he urged.
She closed her eyes, feeling tears prickle them as she got

ready to bear her soul to him. "Because I have wanted you in my arms
for a long time."

His intake of breath was audible but no words followed.
This was a mistake! She should have said nothing! Why did

she confess that much to him? Would she make it worse if she
confessed the rest? Would she dare? "I don't know how, but I fell in
love with you back when we were friends. And I still love you." The
words rushed out before she could change her mind about speaking
them.

She covered her face in her hands, certain that when she

opened her eyes, he would be gone. Moments passed. The clock
ticked in the background. He placed his hand on her lap and she
almost jumped.

"I thought you were repulsed by me," he spoke softly.
She looked up at him, meeting the confusion on his face.

"Why would you think that?"

"I tried to ask you out, to tell you how I felt, and you threw up

on me. That's not exactly a good sign."

She felt heat on her cheeks and knew they were red. Grace

glanced down, suddenly not able to look into his eyes. "I'm sorry."

He lifted her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. "Then

why did you throw up on me?"

She closed her eyes, feeling the panic flood her again. "I have

a sev …" she started to stutter, "severe panic dis … disorder." Breath.
Breath. Calm down. Breath. She exhaled deeply and cleared her

mind. "I can usually control it, but sometimes when I'm nervous and
taken aback I get so dizzy and nauseous that I throw up."

His hand slipped from under her chin and he pulled her to his

arms again. "You should have told me. I would have understood."

She was warm in his embrace. Swallowing hard, she prepared

to answer. "It's embarrassing. I didn't want you to be repulsed by my
problem. But I guess I repelled you anyways."

He tightened his grip around her. "You didn't repel me."
Grace glanced up at him now, shocked by his words. "What?

But you looked absolutely disgusted when I threw up on you."

"Well yeah, it was gross. But I wasn't repulsed by you, just the

mess. You snuck into my heart and I fell in love with you. I knew we
were just friends, but I wanted more. I thought you were so grossed
out by the idea that you threw up. I was heartbroken."

It was her turn to shake her head now. A lump formed in her

throat and she breathed deep to dislodge it. "I wanted to be more than
friends too, but I ruined it for both of us."

"You didn't ruin it." He took her lips with his. "I still love you,

and I still want to give us a try. What do you say?"

She kissed him back, kissed with all the pent up emotions

inside her until her body started to melt in his. "I say yes."

****

A Year Later

The day she received her first shipment from The Goody Bag

was one of the best days of her life. It was the day Grace and Clay
started dating, the day she wrote her first set of reviews, and the day
she made a lot of money while having fun.

She smiled as she closed the front door. Package in hand,

Grace crossed to the kitchen and set it on the table. Her thoughts were
on all the happy things that happened throughout the year. From Clay,
to a new job, to an array of free sex toys. Life had been good to her.

She sighed contently and opened the newest box from The

Goody Bag. As she surveyed the new items, she knew tonight’s
anniversary sex was going to be out of this world good. Her pussy
already creamed at the thought of later.

Hurriedly, she took her new toys upstairs to the bedroom,

stashing them in the winter scarf drawer she now shared with Clay so

he wouldn’t see what was in store for him tonight. As she shuffled the
scarves and covered the boxes, her fingertips grazed over a small box
that didn’t come from The Goody Bag.

Grace pulled out the small dark blue case. Was this her

anniversary gift? This was wrong. She should put the box back and
pretend she didn’t find it. But … who was she kidding?

Grace flipped open the lid and gaped at the glistening diamond

ring inside. She sat on the floor, staring at the luster of the jewelry
when a shadow fell upon her. Glancing up, she met Clay’s smiling
face.

“So much for my big romantic dinner plans.”
She blushed. “Did I ruin them?”
He sat on the floor beside her and pulled her into his arms,

taking the box out of her hands. “Do you like your gift?”

Grace nodded.
“Good. But in order to actually wear it, you need to answer

one question first.”

Emotions swam through her. Happy tears leaked from her

eyes, and she kissed Clay with everything inside her. “Yes,” she
whispered between kisses.

“I didn’t ask the question yet.”
“I know. But the answer is yes.”

The End

www.angelina-rain.com

Other Books by Angelina Rain:

www.evernightpublishing.com/pages/Angelina-Rain.html

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Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com