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Trust Me

Olivia Cunning


  Melanie climbed out of her car and stretched the aches out of her limbs, back, and butt. She was so glad to be home, and as she gazed up at the big A-frame log cabin surrounded by woods and nature, it hit her. This beautiful place really was her home now. Gabe hurried up to the house to let the dogs out. His regular dog-sitter had taken care of them while they’d been gone. Beau was instantly jumping for joy on the porch beside him. Lady limped out, her ears droopy and her big brown eyes sad.

  “Last trip for a while,” he said to her, scratching her head. “I promise.”

  Melanie grabbed an armload of her stuff from the trunk and was halfway to the porch when Nikki’s Bug pulled up behind Melanie’s car. Nikki stepped out of the little melon-orange car and stood with her hands on her hips, assessing Gabe’s gorgeous home.

  “I thought rock stars lived in mansions,” she said.

  “It’s my castle,” Gabe said, helping Lady off the porch while Beau went to investigate the newcomer.

  “It’s a beautiful house,” Melanie said. “I absolutely love it.”

  “Because you have great taste.” Gabe offered her a wink.

  “Doggie!” Nikki said, practically launching herself on top of Beau, who backed off with his tail between his legs before leaping forward again to give Nikki a full-face tongue bath. They rolled around in the dust for several minutes like a pair of rambunctious puppies before Lady went to check out the potential new member of their pack.

  “Oh, you poor thing!” Nikki reached a hand in Lady’s direction. Lady gave it a sniff and then a timid lick. Soon she was lying on her back, wagging her tail and getting a vigorous, apparently much appreciated, belly rub.

  “Lady will never leave her alone now,” Gabe told Melanie, his face bright with mirth. “That dog is addicted to belly rubs.”

  And that was how Melanie and Gabe ended up unloading both cars while Nikki became well acquainted with the dogs.

  Later, Nikki sat perched on a stool at the breakfast bar while Melanie and Gabe worked to throw a meal together. Nikki’s new furry friends sat on either side of the stool with their faces pressed against her outer thighs.

  Nikki sighed. “You two belong together,” she said. “Just look at you. Cooking without arguing. Road trip without arguing. Pick up crazy friend from the loony bin without arguing. Do you two ever argue?”

  Melanie smiled at Gabe, recalling that the last time they’d had a disagreement had been because Nikki had kissed Melanie and made it clear that she wanted her. “Not often.”

  “So can the dogs be in the wedding?” Nikki asked, reaching down to scratch each behind the ears. Puppy love was totally a thing, and both of Gabe’s dogs had it bad for Nikki.

  “I don’t see why not,” Gabe said as he added more olive oil to the fresh salad dressing he was mixing.

  “Wouldn’t that be a recipe for disaster?” Melanie was immediately imagining a doggie tug of war with her veil and dogs marking their territory on pews.

  “My dogs are well behaved,” Gabe said, but Melanie was far from convinced.

  “I’ll put together some ideas and we’ll vote,” Nikki suggested.

  “As the bride, my vote counts double and breaks all ties.”

  Gabe smirked at Nikki. “In other words, no dogs.”

  Dogs should take puppy-dog-eyes lessons from Nikki. If a pooch sported the current look she was giving Melanie, he’d easily get any treat he desired. But Melanie didn’t fold. She added another layer to the lasagna to avoid Nikki’s pleading stare.

  “How about a skydiving wedding?” Nikki asked.

  Melanie sprinkled parmesan cheese on top of the final thin layer of sauce. “Absolutely not.” She lifted the ceramic dish and turned to the preheated oven in the wall, which Gabe opened for her.

  “Beach wedding?”

  “How about we have it here?” Gabe asked.

  Melanie stole a kiss. “Fabulous idea.”

  “In the trees?” Nikki asked. “Where will the guests sit? The dusty driveway?”

  “No one ever said chairs have to be set out in perfect rows,” Melanie said. “Just scatter them about the forest.”

  Gabe snorted. “I never knew you were such a rebel.”

  He swatted her butt playfully, which somehow turned into a rear-end-massaging embrace fueled with a passionate kiss. He pressed his rapidly hardening cock into her hip, and her knees buckled. If he found scattered chairs sexy . . .

  “The dogs would be more comfortable here,” Melanie said, wondering what she was getting into, but she decided the smile Gabe gave her was worth a slobbery ring-bearer pillow.

  “You hear that?” Nikki said. “Your daddy’s getting married and you’re invited.”

  Lady barked, and Beau echoed her—the low but loud sound making Melanie jump.

  “How long does that lasagna need to bake?” Gabe murmured in Melanie’s ear.

  “At least forty-five minutes,” she said.

  “Hey, Nik,” Gabe said, “if I’m not done devouring your friend in forty-five minutes, could you take the lasagna out of the oven?”

  Nikki grinned. “You got it.”

  Melanie tripped over a squeaky toy as she trailed after Gabe, already anticipating all the delicious things he’d do to her body. She supposed Nikki being there did have a few advantages. Not burning the lasagna, for one. Entertaining Gabe’s fur babies, for another. She was sure she’d think of more advantages later.

  At the door to the master bedroom, Gabe made an unexpected detour to a separate door just to the right. Melanie wondered why they were going into a closet—at least that was what she assumed the unexplored area behind the door led to—but was surprised to find it was a very small bedroom, perhaps designed as a nursery since the rest of the bedrooms were on the opposite side of the house. Her heart warmed at the thought, but then her entire body flushed when she realized that instead of a cradle or crib, the only object in the room was something that reminded her of a small mechanical bull with various straps and gizmos attached, and what she could only describe as a giant dildo in its center.

  “What the hell?” she said under her breath as he tugged her into the room and shut the door.

  “I was going to wait to show you this after dinner,” he said, “but knowing it’s here, finally ready to ride, I just couldn’t wait.”

  “Is this what I think it is?” She edged closer, approaching slowly as if the contraption might spook, rear up, and kick her in the face.

  “I’ve been working on it for years, but ultimately abandoned it until recently,” he said, his eyes full of excitement. “I wasn’t sure what it was missing until I woke up in the middle of the night a few nights ago and knew that the failed prototype I had planned to try out on you last weekend was the missing link.”

  Melanie cringed. The thing looked—well—violent. It was black, covered in faux leather, with studded straps, buckles of various sizes, and a few ropes. Red satin sashes dangled from the rear like a kinky tail.

  “The, uh . . . man part . . .” She licked her lips and swallowed. “It’s a bit large, don’t you think?”

  “Fully adjustable,” he said with pride in his voice. “It starts out small and you use this . . .” He handed her a remote control with at least twenty buttons. “. . . to increase the length and girth to your liking.”

  She pushed a button, and the shaft began to piston up and down. Despite her trepidation, Melanie felt a tingle of excitement between her legs. Gabe took the remote from her and shut off the thrusting cock.

  “I think all single ladies need one of these,” she said, “but if you have a partner . . .”

  Gabe smirked. “He gets the remote.”

  In her experience, men did love to fiddle with remote controls. With her heart thudding, she wondered what “channel surfing” would feel like while strapped to this crazy, yet intriguing, invention of Gabe’s. His gadgets and devices had never failed to send her soaring, so this, his magnum opus, would undoubtedly be phenomenal.

 
“Show me more,” she said, running her hand along the side of the pommel. The material was cool and smooth.

  “You need to be naked for that.”

  “I’m not sure I’m prepared to climb on board,” she said.

  “Oh.” His shoulders sank as she knocked the wind out of his sails.

  “I don’t mean never. I just mean . . .”

  He took her by the hand and led her to a big black case sitting in the corner. “At least come see the attachments.”

  He knelt and opened the case, and she dropped to her knees beside him for a closer look.

  “These are skins,” he said. “They fit over the dong.”

  She giggled at his use of the word dong, but had to admit the skins were fascinating. They were all made out of the same surprisingly supple grayish material that was shaped to fit over the phallus and stretch to accommodate the lady’s size preference. The surfaces varied from smooth to lightly textured to bumpy to having various tickly-looking strands at the tip. There were skins with ridges, knobby projections, and rows of bumps along one side or the other.

  “Why so many different textures?” She’d already picked out one that looked like it would rub her front wall in just the right spot, but she wasn’t about to tell Gabe that. Not yet.

  Gabe grinned at her. “Every pussy is different. What feels good to one woman might hurt another. Do you think the gray color is a turn-off? I could add pigments to the polymer to make the skins more interesting or create various flesh tones or . . .”

  “I don’t think the color matters. I always wondered why vibrators were purple and red. Like that’s hot in any way.”

  “Must be a reason,” he said. “I’m sure there are people whose job is to determine which color is most likely to increase dildo sales.”

  Melanie giggled, wondering what such an employee’s resume looked like, but knew Gabe was right. That was totally someone’s job.

  “So gray is okay?”

  “Let’s slide a skin on and see how it looks.” She nonchalantly handed him the skin she most wanted to try out.

  He kissed her under her ear. “That one’s going to make you squirt.”

  Exactly. She loved how this man understood her anatomy and how he was unashamed to take the time and ask the questions required to figure out what gave her the most pleasure. So many men just went at it, hoping by some miracle that they were doing it right, and if not, oh well, must be something wrong with the woman.

  He helped her rise and used the remote to decrease the length and girth of the phallus before showing her how to stretch the skin over it and snap the dildo’s wide square base securely into place in what she could only describe as the saddle.

  “The gray looks good with the black leather surrounding it.” And staring at that now-small phallus with that big bump on the top—that she could get in exactly the right spot by altering the size and girth of the shaft—had her pressing her thighs together to calm her irrefutable excitement.

  Gabe pushed on a spot behind the phallus, and a smaller, more slender dildo shifted into position behind the first.

  “Optional anal stimulation,” he said before uncovering a ridge in front of the main phallus. “And clit vibration. What do you think about adding suction?”

  Her breath stalled in her throat. “Yaaaassss,” she said as she forced the breath out. “That clit-sucky thing you made . . .” She produced a full body shudder. “Dear lord, every woman needs that thing in her life.”

  He chuckled and pulled her into his arms, her breasts pressed firmly into his hard chest. Which reminded her of another gadget he’d invented that had rocked her world.

  “What about those buzzy nipple clamps?” she asked. “Could those be an attachment?”

  “Already are,” he murmured, lifting the hem of her shirt and caressing the bare skin of her lower back with both hands. “So what do you say? Are you brave enough to take it for a ride?”

  “Fuck yeah, I am,” she said, yanking her shirt off over her head.

  He pulled her back into his arms, cupping her bottom in a strong grip and kissing her senseless. “I love you more with each passing second,” he said when he finally drew away.

  “I know the feeling,” she said, breathless and giddy and more than a little anxious to climb aboard his . . . “What do you call this thing, anyway?”

  “Haven’t named it yet.” He scowled in concentration. “How about the Pleasure Pump?”

  Melanie winced and shook her head. “So not sexy. You can do better.”

  “Maybe inspiration for a name will strike me while I watch you get off on it.”

  She grinned. He seemed as excited to start her maiden voyage as she was. His fingers moved to unfasten her jeans, and he kissed her deeply while he slipped her pants and panties down her thighs as far as he could reach. She moaned a protest when he broke the kiss, but groaned in pleasure as his lips began to journey down her neck, along her collarbone and down her chest so that he could push her clothing lower. Her jeans were at her knees when he latched on to one nipple, sucking so hard through the lacy fabric of her bra that she had to cling to his shoulders to keep her balance.

  He helped her out of her pants and slid one strong hand up the inside of her thigh, stopping just short of touching the parts of her so molten with desire for him that she was in danger of catching fire.

  “Gabe,” she murmured, her thighs trembling with need. “Please.”

  “I have some lube,” he said. “Or we can do this the old-fashioned way.”

  “What’s the old-fashioned way?”

  He dropped to his knees and scooted closer. “Allow me to show you,” he murmured, a wicked gleam in his eye. He looped one of her legs over his shoulder, grabbed her ass and pulled her already throbbing pussy to his mouth.

  “Ah yes, I definitely prefer this. Guess I’m an old-fashioned kind of girl,” she said, her hands holding on to his head, fingers tangled in the long silky strands of his strip of hair.

  His soft laugh teased her sensitive and already slick skin before his tongue and mouth went to work on her clit. The way he roughly massaged her ass cheeks was equally responsible for getting her juices flowing. Her head dropped back as she lost herself to the feel of his mouth and fingers, all tugging at her in ways that quickly increased her excitement. He released her ass with one hand and slipped two fingers inside her. She cried out and then gasped in surprise when he pulled them out and moved them to her ass. Oh yes, this was far better than lubing up with an artificial product. When he decided she was wet enough—was the ocean wet enough?—he eased her back to standing on her own—an incredible feat on her wobbly legs—and then showed her where to put her foot to mount his invention.

  He became weirdly businesslike as he positioned the pathetically small and slightly flaccid dildo inside her. She was so turned on that it actually felt good, and she rocked against it impatiently, wishing it were larger, harder, and pistoning into her like she’d seen in Gabe’s earlier demonstration. Next, he fastened a bunch of straps to hold her legs in position, which shifted her clit against that intriguing ridge he’d showed her.

  “Hold here,” he instructed, pointing out two handle grips on either side of the saddle-shaped center of the device.

  She complied, her anticipation building with each added component. The straps around her thighs were incredibly sexy for some reason.

  “Anal stimulation?” he asked, as if he were asking if she wanted ketchup with her fries.

  “Do you really need to ask?”

  She squeaked when he messed with something behind her, and then he abruptly walked away. She turned her head to watch him remove several somethings from the case of skins.

  “What kind of shape do you want?”

  She laughed. “For my butt?”

  “I don’t have as many varieties yet. I’ve been focusing mostly on vaginal stimulation, but I know you like a little tickle in the rear.”

  “You pick,” she said, not sure if she was
flushing with embarrassment or excitement. “Just hurry.”

  He returned and without showing her what he decided on, he attached it with an audible snap and then shifted her slightly. Something pressed against her rear entrance but didn’t penetrate her.

  “Do you want the nipples clamps too?” he asked.

  Jeez, she’d be ready for the nursing home by the time he got her hooked up to the thing.

  “I’m all in,” she said.

  He bit his lip. “I think that might be a bit much to start you with. Maybe next time.”

  He was probably right, but she couldn’t help but be disappointed.

  He stepped back and looked her over, adjusting a strap here, tightening a rope there, until he seemed satisfied. Melanie decided she was either in for the ride of her life or would soon be having the most embarrassing trip to the emergency room in the history of sexual deviants. But she didn’t have time to worry because Gabe