Giving in - Sex Stories

Giving in

The orange juice I’d been pouring into a glass for breakfast slipped from my grasp and crashed to the ground as my sister’s boyfriend waltzed into the kitchen wearing nothing but boxers. He was all tanned skin and rippling, lean muscle. So sexy. Snap out of it, Ally! I told myself. That fact that he was with Sarah didn’t stop my eyes from roving over his defined chest and across his hard six pack, all the way to the tantalising v leading into his black boxes and back up to his sexy arms and broad shoulders. A smirk of masculine satisfaction shaped his full lips and I threw him a dirty look before retrieving the orange juice carton and starting to clean off the tiles. I hated that he was so sexy and that he knew it. Caleb Jackson is a jerk. He’s cocky, entitled, cynical and brutally honest. Not company anyone wants to keep. Yet, he’s so intriguing to me. Why? It’s the secrets in his smoky blue-grey eyes, the haunted expression that sometimes shapes his gorgeous face? I don’t even know. Sarah is constantly complaining about his attitude even though they’ve barely been together a month, yet she stays with him. For his money, I think—not that gives me an excuse to check him out and think about him so much. But that’s all it is, thoughts—not actions. There’s nothing wrong with that, right? I wasn’t so sure anyway. Especially considering the dreams I’ve been having about him lately... When I stood up with the soaking wet cloth, Caleb was leaning against the bench with his arms ...

... folded across his impressive chest, just staring at me. It made the muscles in his arms look so good. His eyes lingered exactly like they shouldn’t. Typical man slut. It still made my heart take off double time. His dark coffee coloured his was shoved back from his face but it didn’t make it look any less messy. His square jaw was stubblef lightly and it emphasized his sexy mouth. Caleb’s cheek bones are high and with his eyes and perfect jaw, he could be a male model. Especially with his body. “What do you want?” I asked moodily. “I think you know the answer to that question, Amanda,” He purred in his deep, husky voice. “You are with Sarah. Besides, I’m seeing someone.” “That pretty boy kid with the dyed blond hair?” He snorted, emphasizing the kid part. “You think he can make you feel even a fraction of what I can?” This conversation was dangerous territory. I spun around on my heel and headed out of the kitchen briskly. Too briskly, on the wet floor. My legs slipped right out from underneath me and my back started to twist uncomfortably. I braced myself for the hard tiles but instead was pulled against a hard, warm chest. God, he smelled so incredibly good. My fingers gripped his strong arms and harsh sparks of awareness shot all through me. His hands were twisted around my waist, managing to touch bare skin because my shirt had ridden up. His fingers rubbed on my lower back, like he had every right. I pushed against his chest, knowing that all he had to do was kiss me and I’d ...