I Heart That City: Body Shots

Mechele Armstrong

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Joe and Daphne go to I Heart That City every Thursday night to celebrate being together one more week. They almost lost their marriage and themselves to a former lover, who only wanted Daphne. When Amos sees the happy couple, h...
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Joe and Daphne go to I Heart That City every Thursday night to celebrate being together one more week. They almost lost their marriage and themselves to a former lover, who only wanted Daphne.

When Amos sees the happy couple, he knows he must capture them on film. Only he really wants to capture them for himself. Inviting them to let him take pictures only makes his longing more intense. And he's not the only one feeling the sexual spark. Joe and Daphne find themselves attracted to the man who seems to find both of them desirable.

One problem: they've taken a break from threesomes. When they decide to try and see where things go, passions explode with body shots on camera, and on Daphne and Joe with tequila. But Daphne's past has her in its sights and it could ruin everything.

Joe turned the corner away from the bar. He should let it go. Give in to the sexual heat between them. Knew what this might do to that. But he couldn’t look the other way. “I didn’t see him.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel at the admission.

Her breath caught before Daphne answered. “Neither did I.”

Admitting it was good. “You were looking.” He tried to keep his voice even. Peaceful. Didn’t want to start trouble. He wasn’t successful. Couldn’t find anything else to say to soften what he’d said. After all, it was the truth. But it was better to find out why she’d been looking then to let this fester. He’d learned that back when the trouble began.

“I…” She took a deep breath. In the dim light from the streetlights, he couldn’t see her face. But he’d seen the color rise enough times to know what she looked like. “I felt someone staring. I searched for the source. That’s all.”

The source. How appropriate a term.

“Did you feel it too?” She turned away to look out the window as he turned another corner.

“Yes.” And for a brief second, Joe had wondered if it was him too. Instead, he’d gotten a brief glimpse of a man with short, dark hair and even darker eyes. A lithe body. A man who’d stared at them like they were candy and he was a child ready to munch. Before Joe had walked them out the front door.

He stopped at a red light.

“You thought it was Gary.” Her hand moved to his to cover it over the center gearshift. “Why would he come there? He knows it’s our spot.”

Which was exactly why he’d come there. Joe didn’t say it. Daphne could be naive when it came to Gary. “I don’t know.” He sat waiting for the light to turn green. He’d spent a great deal of the past year waiting for so many things, especially the last six months. “But then I didn’t understand a lot of the things he did.”

“I didn’t either.” Her teeth gritted together. “Can we not ruin our perfect evening by talking about him? And the past?” Her hand squeezed his.

And with her action, his heart squeezed too, tapping out beats that threatened to break it apart. It did them no good to talk about the past. They’d made it another week and needed to celebrate that. Focus on their relationship. On the future. Not events that could never be altered.

He relaxed.

Besides, Gary hadn’t even been there. It had been some stranger.

“Did you see who watched us?” Everyone had once they’d kissed. But only one set of eyes had kept watching. As though he couldn’t get enough of watching them. And Joe found himself intrigued. Why would he watch a couple walking out the front door when so much was going on at the bar in front of him?

She nodded, the movement barely imperceptible in the light. “I did.” Stretched her long legs out in the floorboard. Kicked off her shoes.

His gaze drew to her tan pants. What was under the material? Would be fun finding out later. Or maybe even now. “I didn’t know him. Did you?” He slipped his hand up from under her hand to cover it. His thumb stroked across her skin.

“Nope.” Her breathing hitched as his fingers and thumb continued to stroke her and dominate her hand. “Didn’t know him.”

The light changed, and he sped off.

He heard the click of the seat belt and saw she’d unbuckled herself. He sat up straighter in his seat. His heart thundered in his chest. “What’re you doing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Her voice raked across his senses. He watched her from the corner of his eye while keeping his main focus on the road. He’d drive home the long and slow way instead of the direct route. That would give him more reaction time if he got distracted. And from past experience, she intended to get him distracted.

He headed for Monument Avenue, instead of Patterson, the faster way home. Would take this slow. Like they’d taken everything the past six months.

She shifted closer to him. Placed a hand on his chest.

It burned like a brand. Like it always did. Her hands could always heat his skin. Didn’t matter where or when they touched him.

Her hands rubbed him as he kept his eyes on the road as they bounced along on the cobblestones. Why didn’t they live closer to I Heart NY? He’d asked himself that question a million times. They’d moved out to the west end instead of staying city bound. Least they didn’t live in the far west end of the county. Short Pump had started out as a blip on the map. Now it was its own little city. Too many people too close together for him. They lived in a quiet, older neighborhood.

Her hand moved down across his stomach to meet the waistband of his jeans. Slipped the button from the loop and wrenched down the zipper.

He panted, needing her hand on his rock-hard cock. Much like she’d grasped the gearshift earlier, he wanted her to clasp him. To clutch him. To tighten and go up and down around his length.

She splayed his pants open as wide as they would go.

Ran her hand down into the depths of his tighty whities to find his cock. He widened his legs, keeping one foot on the gas pedal.

A light turned red up ahead.

He stopped, looking at the statue in front of him, trying to gain some control. Robert E. Lee, confederate general of the Civil War. The South had lost the war, though a few still wanted them to rise again. Richmond had been the capital of the Confederacy. A legacy that still resided in the sleepy city with monuments and museums.

He was going to lose it with her hand touching him. He always did.

Her hand caressed him with determination and softness. Slid all the way around him with silken touches.

Maybe he shouldn’t have taken the slower way home. He could have taken the downtown expressway to I-64. It would have been quicker to get off at Parham and scoot home that way. ‘Course he might have ended up sliding into the wall on either side of the train track, which ran down the center of the expressway. Especially when her hand squeezed like that.

His cock throbbed.

Her hands lingered over him. “So hard.”

“For you, baby.” She was the only one who got him so aroused he never seemed to find words to describe it.


A smile curved his lips up. That he could bring a writer to the state of not being able to express herself always made him arrogant.

The light turned green.

She lowered her head.

“Fuck.” He thrust his hips up toward her waiting mouth. Shifted his gaze between her head and the road. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Oh yeah, should live closer to the damn bar.

Her mouth met the tip of his cock. She used her hands to pull him more out of the pants and laved her tongue around him.

His whole body drew up from the contact of her warm mouth on his sensitive skin.

Needed to turn on the air-conditioning despite the still-chilly winter temperatures. Heat rose across his body as he broke out in a sweat.

With each pass of her mouth and tongue around him, he lost himself in sensation.

A car stopped abruptly in front of him.

He pressed on the brakes. “Move it.” He let out a growl and tapped on the horn with two short blasts.

She removed her mouth from him, cooling him down immediately. “Eager for something? Or to get somewhere?”

“Hell, yeah.”

She laughed, a full-out one of pure joy.

His wet cock tightened. How he loved to hear her laugh. Good thing they’d not focused on the past tonight but on the future. And on the loving. An area they’d never had any problems in.

Her mouth returned to him.

He straightened up further in the seat.

She laved around the end of it before sucking him into her mouth. Not once, but several times.

Until he thought he might die from the pleasure of her mouth on him.

In and out, she took him.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

Two minutes from home. Two minutes from the bliss of her body. Two minutes from finding out what she had on under those pants.

He could do this.

His hips thrust wildly against her mouth.

She took him in willingly. Excitedly. His heart pounded in his chest until he could barely hear. He drove slowly down Patterson Avenue, carefully turning onto their street, taking time as he neared both the house and extreme pleasure being wrung from his body.

The house was in sight. Front porch light on. Welcoming windows.

Home free.

Until she suckled on him, taking him down as deep as she could get into the heated recesses of her mouth. The car came to a rolling stop on the street, not the driveway. He managed to pull the gearshift up to get the car into park before his climax rocked him.

The blasting orgasm made his hips buck wildly.

His hand gripped the steering wheel so hard it seemed like something should break. His whole body shivered from top to bottom.

Afterward, she lifted her head with her mouth shining. Even in the dim light, he could see her.

His come.

An aftershock racked his body.

She licked her lips, swallowing again like she must have done when he pumped her mouth full. “Yum.” She drew out the last sound to hum against him.

He closed his eyes, taking his hands from the wheel. His breath labored in his chest to keep up with his racing heart.

A light brush against his cheek made him look over at her.

Her eyes shone in the light from the dashboard. He couldn’t see much of her face. But he saw she smiled. “Happy one more week, Joe.”

“Happy one more week, Daphne.”

Copyright © Mechele Armstrong


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