Badd Luck Read online

  I definitely needed more.

  I withdrew my hands from the back of his jeans and found his belt. I tugged it free of the loops to loosen the prong, and then unthreaded it from the buckle. Pried open the button of his jeans. Tugged down the zipper. He was commando, and his cock sprang free, right into my waiting hand.

  HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT.

  Corin Badd was hung like a goddamn horse. I whimpered at the feel of him in my hand, a massive, thick, hot, hard, steel-under-silk rod. Slick and smooth and warm, veiny. Long, so long. I moaned yet again, and had to break the kiss so I could open my eyes and see what I was clutching.

  God, it was so fucking beautiful.

  His cock was...glorious. There was no other word for it.

  I dissolved into disbelieving laughter, giggling breathlessly as I gently began to glide my fist down his length. "Jesus, Corin."

  "What?"

  I squeezed him. "This. God, this thing is so much more than I ever expected you to be packing."

  He brushed my shirt and bra up out of the way to bare my breasts to the air, and to his eyes. He cupped their heavy weight. "Same here, babe."

  I stroked him, because now that I had my hand on this beautiful cock, there was no way I was letting go. Especially with the way he was playing with my breasts. The air was slightly cool as the evening drew down on us, but his breath was warm.

  Wait, his breath?

  I'd closed my eyes again, relishing the magnificence of his cock, just gently exploring his length as he toyed with my tits.

  But then I felt his breath, and my eyes flew open; he was leaning in, mouth open, and his tongue was extended: I opened my eyes just in time to watch his tongue flick against my nipple, and then his mouth closed over my breast, and I went limp, my hand squeezing around him involuntarily.

  "Shit, Corin, shit...that feels so good," I breathed, unable to stop the words from pouring out of me.

  His hand was on my other breast, playing with my nipple, tweaking and twisting and rolling it, and his tongue and mouth were doing wild, wicked, delightful things, and he still had another hand free.

  Which went to my jeans, flicking open the zipper and button in another single deft move, and then his fingertips were leading the way under the elastic of my underwear, seeking my opening.

  I wanted to warn him, but I couldn't. With his mouth on me, with the state of arousal I was in, the way he was playing my body like an instrument, I was going to last about ten seconds if he directly touched my clit. I was like a virgin teenage boy getting his dick touched for the first time. In this state I was going to last all of half a minute max before coming all over the place.

  I wanted to warn him, but I didn't. Not only couldn't, but just intentionally did not want to: I wanted him to find out the fun way.

  Which...he did. Oh god and holy shit, did he find out.

  I lost all control over my body when his fingertips slid over my mound, and then became incapable of any kind of rationality when his long middle finger delved over my seam, tracing the outer surface of my vagina before brushing back up the opening. My head tipped back and my mouth fell open, and my hand spasmed around his cock, and my spine arched as he mouthed my nipple. And then, oh...and then his finger parted the lips of my pussy, starting at the bottom and gliding up and sliding inward on the upward journey, until he came to my clit.

  I gasped sharply at this touch, jerking.

  "Cor..." I breathed, meaning it as a warning.

  He just growled wordlessly, sucking on my nipple, pulling it away until my breast was stretched out and the ache of the suck was so intense I cried out, eyes flying open, head rocking forward, and his eyes were open, on me, watching me as he slid his middle finger into my channel, gathering the dew of my arousal and spreading it over my clit.

  Was this real?

  Was this happening?

  Was this another wet dream?

  It felt so real, but it couldn't be real. This was Corin.

  It was Corin, the boy I'd grown up with, had milkshakes with, watched Yo Gabba Gabba and Power Rangers with before graduating to Dawson's Creek and Seventh Heaven, the boy I'd once caught trying to smoke oregano, the boy who had dared me to steal a pack of cigarettes and then dared me again to smoke one with him...I'd done both, and we'd gotten caught and grounded. This was Corin, the boy who had shared each of his teenaged conquests with me. The boy I'd watched come alive onstage, blossoming into a rock star.

  This was Corin.

  I opened my eyes, and understood in my blood and bones that this was real, that he really did have his mouth on my tit and his fingers in my pussy, and that I was seconds from coming apart...

  "Oh, oh god, oh god," I whimpered, feeling the orgasm beginning to blast through me with sudden and ferocious power. "Corin...Corin!"

  He snarled, lupine, gently gnawing his front teeth over my nipple, just hard enough to send me over the edge, and I squeezed his cock so hard as I began to come that he gasped in pain, and that was when awareness rocketed through me.

  I had his big, perfect, beautiful cock in my hand. I glanced down, thrashing my pussy against his fingertip, which was circling my clit to draw the wild ecstasy out of me, making me whimper and bite down on shrieks. I glanced down, and saw his cock in my hand. Huge and pink and thick, straight, straining upward, the plump tip even plumper and broader out in the open, now smeared with glistening pre-cum.

  I was coming and coming, orgasming so hard I couldn't even thrash, coming so hard I couldn't even gasp or whimper, could only sit upright and fall backward, tensed, paralyzed. Corin wrapped his not-busy-in-my-pussy hand around my back, holding me upright, for which I was thankful, because I'd been about to fall over backward.

  Involuntarily, once again, my hand began sliding as I regained control over my muscles. Jerking upward, grinding downward. Corin, his mouth still paying homage and reverence to my breasts, now flitting from one to the other as I descended from the peak of orgasm, glanced up at me, his brows furrowed.

  I had another moment of a disoriented sense of reality, where I again attempted to comprehend that this was real, Corin making me come, my hand on his dick, sliding and gliding, bringing him closer to that same edge. His hips were flexing and he was forgetting what his mouth was meant to be doing, and his eyes were heavy-lidded, and his jaw was tensed, frozen half-open. This was Corin I was doing this with. He was my best friend. Was this wrong somehow? No...no. It wasn't wrong. If anything it was all too right, something that should have happened years ago but never did--

  But...Corin?

  Not Canaan.

  Corin.

  It was backward somehow.

  I felt him tense, every muscle tightening.

  "Jesus, Tate. Fuck." His forehead was resting against my breasts, their peaks smashed against his face, and he was gasping, nuzzling them.

  God, that was beautiful, the intensely affectionate--even loving--way he nuzzled my breasts as I touched him, stroked his length.

  This wasn't a dream, was it? It wasn't a wet dream, a fantasy, or a daydream.

  "Is this real?" I heard myself say.

  "I don't fuckin' know," he growled back. "If it ain't, I don't wanna know."

  "I dreamed about you, like this," I murmured.

  "I dreamed about you, too," he said.

  "This isn't a dream, though, is it." That wasn't a question.

  He growled again, and his hips were moving nonstop now, flexing in time with my steady strokes. His eyes flew open and met mine. "No, Tate, this isn't a dream." I think he said it as much to remind himself of that truth, saying my name out loud to make it seem more real.

  Because it felt like an erotic daydream. Too perfect to be real, the way it had so smoothly and naturally escalated from a kiss to touching to...this.

  To him, moments from coming.

  I sank forward, off the chair, to my knees, so we were both kneeling on the dock, both of us with our jeans open, his now down around his thighs. I had him in both ha
nds, because he had way too much cock for just one hand. He clutched my breasts and groaned, pivoting his hips with increasing need.

  "Tate?" His breath of my name was a query.

  "Yeah, Cor."

  "I can't stop it anymore."

  Fuck, oh fuck. What do I do? Let him come on the dock? Into my hand? I hadn't thought this part out.

  I panicked, a little. What was I ready for? I don't know, I don't know, I don't know--

  So fast, so soon, unexpected, too much.

  He was groaning, grinding into my hands.

  I met his eyes, and I saw the moment he finally let himself go, when he could finally hold back no longer. His mouth fell open and a breathed curse--"FUCK!"--fell from his lips with a heavy sigh, and he thrust into my hands once more.

  It wasn't a conscious decision. I didn't think it out, didn't plan it, didn't even know it was on the table as an option--

  I sank down, hunching forward, both of my hands clutching his cock, stroking hard, jerking swiftly in short, sharp movements around the base.

  My lips closed around him, taking that beautiful plump pink crown into my mouth.

  "Fuck...Tate!" This was a raspy gasp of utter shock, and intense, overwhelmed bliss.

  God, he tasted good, felt good, and was so perfect. So amazing. God, this wasn't real, was it? I got to do this? I got to taste this incredible man's cock? So fucking good. He held utterly still as I sucked the cum out of him, swallowing for all I was worth as he came and came and came, coming so much it went beyond my ability to keep up, and I had to break the suction and open my mouth to gag and gasp and swallow a breath of air, but he was still coming, and it shot onto my tongue in a thick tangy salty hot pool. I buried him in my mouth, stroking just beneath my mouth with both hands, not taking more than an inch or two of him, to just beneath the ridge of his circumcision.

  "Mmmmmmm..." My moan was involuntary, tasting him, feeling him in my mouth, the insane eroticism of this.

  He was groaning as I sucked the last few droplets out of him. "Tate, oh my fucking god...Tate!"

  I finally straightened, his cock slipping out of my mouth with a comically audible pop.

  We stared at each other, both of us gasping breathlessly.

  "Holy shit," I murmured, staring down at his still-hard cock, now wet with my saliva and leaking dribbles of cum.

  He slipped his finger into his mouth, the finger that had been inside me. "Yeah...holy shit."

  I laughed, a sudden huff of disbelief. "Did...did we just...did we really just do that, Cor?"

  "I think..." He couldn't seem to take his eyes off my boobs, which were still bare, as the T-shirt and bra were still rucked up over them. "Yeah, we just did that."

  "Holy shit." It was all I could think to say.

  He nodded, equally stunned. "Yeah...holy shit," he said, echoing his own words.

  It all washed over me, suddenly. The fact that I'd just given Corin Badd a blowjob. That he'd fingered me to orgasm. We'd kissed, and that kiss had been...beyond incredible. That my orgasm, just from his fingers and a little attention to my tits, had been more intense than any other I'd ever had, bar none.

  But the kiss? God...

  A kiss I'd been somewhat prepared for. What we'd just done...not so much.

  Panic started to blast through me.

  "Corin, I..." I shook my head, overrun by an onslaught of emotions. Too much, too much.

  I stood up, hurriedly refastening my bra, stuffing my tits back into it, and tugging my shirt down.

  Then, with one last glance back at Corin, I fled.

  Deleted Chapter 8

  Corin

  * * *

  I was paralyzed momentarily, watching Tate run from what we'd just done.

  Paralyzed by confusion, by my own maelstrom of crazy emotions regarding what we'd just done, how it had felt, and about whom I'd done it with. I mean, it was Tate.

  This was the girl who had had her first period in seventh grade, in English class, and had been too scared and embarrassed to say anything, didn't know what to do. So I'd feigned a sudden illness so I could run out, and she'd gone after me "to see if I was okay" and then I'd escorted her to the bathroom, found Aerie in a different class and pulled her out so she could help Tate figure things out.

  There are so many stories like that I could tell, each crazier than the last. Getting stoned together for the first time, on the top floor of a parking garage near the docks. Sneaking onto the ferry to the airport and onto the tarmac, nearly getting run over by a jet and then knocked over by jet wash, Tate stumbling backward into me, me into Cane, and Canaan into Aerie, in a row like a set of dominos, before finally being caught by security and hauled home to face our angry parents. Her pregnancy scare senior year, when her period was a week late; she'd shown up at Brett's garage, where Bishop's Pawn practiced, sobbing, hysterical, Aerie hot on her heels, as confused as the rest of us because Tate had kept her fears to herself until she couldn't keep it in anymore.

  That was her way, though. She kept her shit locked down tight until it all came boiling over.

  Like this, now.

  I was also paralyzed by the intensity of everything that had just happened. Disbelief, incredulity. I mean, I've been around, if you know what I mean, but nothing--nothing--could ever compare to what just happened with Tate...what she made me feel.

  Fuck, when she sank to her knees with me, when she put her mouth on me, fuck...it was--I don't have words. Beyond incredible doesn't even start to describe it. I had no idea she was going to do that, and neither did she, I don't think. I don't know. I just know I was still shaken by it, trembling, weak in the knees.

  Finally, I realized I had to go after her. I shot to my feet, grabbed my T-shirt, and tripped down the dock, hurriedly pulling up my jeans as I ran.

  My momentary paralysis had felt like it had lasted an hour, but in reality it was maybe a minute, probably less, in which I stared after Tate as she ran down the dock and into the woods. I caught up to her easily, mostly because she'd only made it a few steps into the forest before collapsing against a tall, thin pine tree, sobbing.

  I eased up behind her, putting my hands on her shoulders. "Tate?"

  "What the fuck did we just do, Corin?" she wailed, twisting to put her back to the trunk.

  Her eyes were red and wet with tears, her gasps coming like hiccups. I wiped the tears away, from beneath her eyes, from her cheek.

  "We got carried away, is all."

  She laughed, a raucous, bitter, bark. "I sucked your cock, Cor."

  "And I sucked your tits and finger-fucked you."

  She blushed hard and put her hands on her face, shoulders shaking; I wasn't sure if she was crying or laughing or both, now. "God, Corin. What have we done?"

  I wasn't sure what she was feeling. Regret? Guilt? Confusion?

  "I..." No words came out, and I tried again. "Are you...are you upset? Like, mad at me?"

  She laughed again, but this time it wasn't bitter, more...tender? Amused? Somewhere in between those two. "No, Cor, no. God no. Why on earth would I be mad at you?"

  "I don't know!" I said, with a little too much emphasis. "I don't know. I'm confused by why you're freaking out."

  "Because we can't go back! There's no undoing this, Corin! We can't ever be just friends again." She shook her head, tipped it back, sniffing, and wiped her fingers under her eyes.

  "Being just friends went out the window the moment you Skyped us, Tate."

  "We were drunk," she protested.

  "Not so drunk you didn't know what you were doing," I said.

  "I know, but..." she trailed off, shaking her hands out. "I think that was probably a case of alcohol bringing things to the surface that would never have gotten out otherwise."

  "Exactly," I said. "This has been brewing for a while."

  "But...it happened so fast, and I--I wasn't ready for any of it." She met my eyes, her tears drying up. "The kiss, I wasn't ready for us to kiss like that, for it to be so...so..."
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  "Intense?" I supplied.

  "That kiss was a fucking game-changer, Cor." She had her spine to the tree, her hands behind her back, staring up at me. "I've never in my life been kissed like that."

  "Me either."

  A silence, then.

  Tate shook her head. "I don't know where to go from here, Corin."

  "Back to the cabin? We should see what Cane and Aerie are doing," I said.

  She nodded. "Yeah, I just...I need another second."

  "I understand," I said, daring a step closer to her. "I could use a minute or two to finish getting my shit together myself."

  She allowed me to approach, staring up at me. "You seem pretty calm to me."

  "I'm not. That whole thing was as overwhelming for me as it was for you." I ended up not quite pressed up against her, but my hands were resting on her waist.

  "Really?" She hooked her thumbs in my front belt loops.

  "Really really."

  Tate snorted a laugh. "Don't you go quoting Shrek at me."

  "I'm sorry, I just--"

  She interrupted me. "Corin, I don't want you to think I regret what happened back there." She tugged my belt loops so I was flush against her. "Because I don't."

  "You don't?"

  A shake of her head. "No, not even a little. I was just overwhelmed by how suddenly it escalated into something so intense, and I didn't know I was going to...that I'd...that it would feel like that, that you'd--" She stopped, biting her lip.

  "What?" I asked. "That I would what?"

  "You've always been hot. I've always known you were sexy, but..." She dropped her eyes, and then returned them to mine. "I had no idea you were packing that in your pants. If I'd known you looked like that, I'm not sure this would have waited so long to happen."

  I laughed. "Tate, when I lifted your shirt up and got my first full look at you, I--" My turn to shake my head in disbelief. "I couldn't believe how fucking perfect you are. Like...growing up, I had these moments where I saw you as not just my best friend who was a girl, but as a woman, with a woman's body. When I saw you like that. It was just these isolated moments, but even then, I never imagined you'd have such..." I trailed off, unsure how to finish that without sounding like a crude caveman.

  "Big tits?" she said for me, laughing.

  I rolled my eyes with a shrug and a tip of my head. "It's more than that, Tate. It's not just about the size. Yeah, they're not exactly small, which I definitely enjoy. But they're...they're just perfectly shaped."