8:

"What do you want, Sugar?" JC asked.

Sugar took a step toward him, then another . . . and another. He flinched when she placed her hands on his chest and moved them in slow circles. He could smell the alcohol on her breath. "Katie, have you been drinking?"

"Just a tiny bit," she giggled. "Lance needed company. It’s not a party if only one person is drinking."

"And where was Justin?"

Sugar’s faced scrunched up in thought. She shrugged. "Home, I guess, the party pooper," she said, sticking out her tongue and rolling her eyes.

"Oh. So what do you want?"

"I want you," she said simply. JC looked at her. She was fading in and out of his wallpaper design. <i>Wait a minute, when did I get wallpaper in here? Oh, who cares . . . </i> He made his eyes focus on the woman standing before him. Her hands felt good, the way they were rubbing all over his body. He was thankful he had taken to sleeping in only his underwear – boxerbriefs tonight – as her hands crept lower. He groaned. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that this was wrong. He grasped at that thought, but it flitted out of his reach. <i>Oh, who the hell cares, anyway. I need to get laid.</i>

JC leaned down and captured her lips, attacking them with the ferocity of a caged tiger. He pushed her back against the wall, tearing at her clothes. He didn’t care if he ripped them to pieces, but then, neither did she. Her shirt landed on the back of the couch. Her bra was somewhere on the rug in front of the fireplace. He didn’t take the time to remove her short skirt. Instead, he just flipped it up around her waist and ripped the delicate fabric of her lacy underwear. She whimpered a bit at that discomfort, but he silenced her by shoving his tongue into her mouth. She didn’t resist.

They had to break the kiss to breathe. JC took that opportunity to step out of the black boxerbriefs he’d been wearing. He pushed down on her shoulder a bit, and she knew what he wanted. She dropped to her knees and placed her mouth around as much of him as she could. He hissed in pleasure and placed his hands on top of her head. She didn’t like that very much, but he wasn’t pushing, just guiding her movements.

He released his hold on her. It was good like that, but not good enough. "Stay," he barked out when she moved to stand up. She did so, trembling half in fear and half in desire. She felt him behind her. He had lowered himself to the ground. She felt his hand on her back, pressing forward. She leaned down, supporting herself on her hands. His long fingers trailed along her spine, across her ribs to her belly, and down.

JC grinned when he felt how wet she was. He reveled in his male power. He hadn’t done anything to turn her on, and she was fairly dripping. "Tell me you want it," he said.

"I . . . OH!" She stopped as he trailed his finger lightly over her sensitive flesh. "Yeah . . . like that," she babbled. She stopped and she whimpered as his hand crashed down on her ass. It wasn’t a hard hit, but it did sting.

"SAY IT!" he ordered gruffly.

"Oh, God, YES! I want it. I want you to fuck me like a rabid dog!" Had he actually been listening, he would have been rolling on the floor with laughter, but he wasn’t paying any attention to her words. He slammed into her from behind and she screamed.

"Oh . . . Oh YEAH! Just like that, baby! HARDER!" Her screams turned into wordless yells and moans as the pleasure mounted. She felt his hand on her, squeezing her breasts, fondling her nipples, and moving lower. When he touched the place she most wanted him to, she exploded with a guttural scream. Her vision went dark and she could have sworn she saw stars. The knowledge that he had sent her over the edge into oblivion was enough to make him join her.

Afterwards, they collapsed on the carpet, panting. JC went to sleep, his world still spinning. Sugar crawled over to the couch. She put her shirt back on as best she could with half the buttons ripped off, then collapsed on the cushions.

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