Sunday – one shot



“Keep your hands right there, or I’ll find a use for this duct tape. Just let it happen, baby.”


Gripping the king-size-bed posts tightly, Paul grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut. His head flopped back to the mattress. He didn’t know how he got himself into those situations.


For a nice change, it was a rare cloud-free day on a weekend, and they were taking full advantage of it. Everyone was basking in the bright sunshine on the beach.


One minute, he was gulping down an ice cold beer—there might have been a shot or three of ‘shine in the mix—and the next he was naked and flat on his back.


He couldn’t remember leaving the blanket on the sand. He didn’t know how he managed to get back home. He reached to scratch his head and a lightning fast hand slapped it away.


“What did I tell you?”


The growl behind her words warned him she was completely serious and wouldn’t put up with his bullshit.


She never put up with his bullshit.


He peeked at her through his lashes and those huge, deep brown eyes ensnared him.


Like a wolf caught in a steel bear trap.


Paul was pretty sure that was how she reeled him in. It happened every damn time. He’d fought a horde of ravenous newborn vampires, but that little brunette was the most dangerous creature he’d ever come across.


Sweat glistening on her pale skin, a beautifully nude Bella kneeled beside him, her thigh pressed against his, and he trembled with a spike of fear. Anxiously, he eyed her instruments of torture: a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby and an ice cream scoop.


“You know you want it.”


“Babe, I think I remember saying I’d fix you a sundae, not that I’d be a sundae.” He flinched at the whine leaking through.


“Look. It’s either this or the Coffee Coffee Buzz Buzz Buzz, and you like the Chubby Hubby.” She smirked at him and dug into the carton.


“I ain’t the one eating it.”


“You will be.” She winked at him. “Besides, you’re so hot, it’ll melt before I can eat it all.”


“You think I’m hot?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.


She gave him that disgusted look she’d become a true master of, turned her hand, and released the dripping glob of ice cream and pretzel nuggets right in his crotch.


He couldn’t contain the shocked hiss as the frozen confection hit his overheated skin.


“Just let it happen, baby,” she cooed.


Another hiss escaped when her fingers began to smooth the rapidly melting goo over the length of his dick.


He almost screamed when her tongue started lapping it up.


He did scream, and crack a bedpost, when her lips slipped over the head and sucked—hard.


The other bedpost was a goner when he came.


Gasping for breath, he panted out, “That was the best damn sundae I’ve ever had.”


“Told ya you’d like it.”



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