No Strings Attached Read online

  Table of Contents

  More Books by Jiffy Kate

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About The Authors

  No Strings Attached

  Copyright © 2020 by Jiffy Kate.

  Cover design and formatting by Jersey Girl Design

  First Edition: February 2020

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to retailer and purchase.

  More Books by Jiffy Kate

  Finding Focus Series

  Finding Focus

  Chasing Castles

  Fighting Fire

  Taming Trouble

  French Quarter Collection

  Turn of Fate

  Blue Bayou

  Come Again

  Neutral Grounds

  Good Times (coming summer 2020)

  Table 10 Novella Series

  Table 10 part 1

  Table 10 part 2

  Table 10 part 3

  New Orleans Revelers

  The Rookie and The Rockstar

  TVATV (coming fall 2020)

  Smartypants Romance

  Stud Muffin (Donner Bakery, book 2)

  Beef Cake (Donner Bakery, book 4)

  Standalones

  Watch and See

  To keep up-to-date on all Jiffy Kate news and releases, signup for their newsletter and receive Holiday, a novella by Jiffy Kate, for free -- click here

  Chapter 1

  The lights flicker, alerting everyone the program is about to begin. I place my empty glass on the bar and turn to the attractive blonde waiting for me.

  “Are you ready?” she asks politely, slipping her hand into the crook of my elbow.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Letting out a soft laugh that does nothing to quell the nerves beginning to build in my stomach, she leads me down a dark hallway.

  When we reach our destination, she gives my arm a reassuring squeeze and turns on her six-inch heels, leaving me with a small group of men. We look like a bunch of cookie-cutter assholes—expensive suits, clean-cut faces, two-hundred-dollar haircuts.

  Chuckling to myself, I release a breath and with it some of the pressure building in my chest.

  It’s like when I’m a few hundred feet from a summit or on a downhill slope of an off-road ride. My body needs to pressurize, or my chest will explode from the adrenaline spiking.

  An older woman steps out from behind a curtain and explains the rules of the game, but she gets drowned out by the blood pumping forcefully through my body. It’s okay. I know what I signed up for.

  My name is called and my body tenses. A blindfold covers my eyes, and my remaining senses are called to action. The mixture of smoke and perfume in the air assaults my nose while the taste of the whiskey still lingers on my tongue.

  My skin tingles with excitement as my ears focus on the voices calling out from the crowd.

  I’m led onto the stage and introduced. Cheers and whistles greet me, boosting my confidence and allowing it to overshadow my fears. My guide, Cindy, loops her arm through mine and turns me in a circle, pausing briefly so the audience can get a good look at my ass.

  Once I’m turned back around, Cindy instructs me to remove my jacket, which I’m happy to do. The stage lights are fucking hot. As sounds of appreciation begin to die down, she then asks me to remove my shirt.

  Even though this is my first time being an active participant, I’ve been here before as a spectator, and I know the fun is just about to begin.

  It’s amazing how the loss of my sight makes it so I can feel everyone looking at me, watching me. It’s thrilling, liberating, and my pulse speeds up in anticipation of what’s next.

  There’s a hum—an energy—that takes over the room.

  Now that the crowd is primed and ready, Cindy interrupts the low roar. “Let’s start the bidding at fifty dollars.”

  Bids start flying, but I don’t pay attention to the numbers being shouted. However, there seems to be a bidding war going on and it fuels my eagerness.

  My dick begins to stir.

  As a victor is announced, everything begins to feel like an assault on my senses—women yelling, hot lights, anticipation. I’m caught off guard when Cindy places my hand into the hand of the winner.

  Warm, soft skin somehow puts me at ease. Her palm isn’t sweating, but I bet mine is. She seems to be the opposite of me in every way I can judge—smaller, calmer, confident. I gladly let the woman lead me down the front steps of the stage and maneuver me through the crowd, away from the noise.

  When she stops abruptly, pushing me forcefully against a wall, my dick immediately stands to attention, remembering why we’re here.

  “I can’t wait to get my hands and mouth on you,” she growls softly, her lips brushing my ear, making me ache for her touch. Pulling on my hand, she practically drags me down what I’m guessing is a hallway.

  Close by, behind closed doors, the muffled sounds of other people fucking fill the air.

  As much as I love the visuals of sex, hearing people scream out in pleasure is simply intoxicating. The sounds caused by an orgasm are almost as good as the feel of one.

  We turn a corner and the woman holding my hand stops, opening a door and leading me through. Once the door is closed behind us, she sighs. The relief in her voice matches exactly how I feel.

  I want her.

  I have no idea what she looks like or what her name is, but she’s all I want.

  Her hands on my face are the only warning I get before her mouth attacks mine. Soft, sweet kisses don’t exist here, only raw and passionate, needy and devouring. Her fingers brush over my erection through my pants, and I hiss at the contact, causing her to groan.

  Before I can recover from the heady kiss, she has my belt undone and my pants on the floor, guiding me backward. Pushing on my shoulders, she forces me down until I’m sitting, and then her touch is gone. The sound of two heavy shoes hitting the floor is followed by the rustle of fabric, and my pulse quickens with the thought of her being naked. Listening to her undress is the sweetest torture, and I briefly worry I won’t last long when I’m finally buried inside her.

  Quick, loud breaths fill the room—hers and mine.

  She doesn’t sound nervous, just turned the fuck on, which makes me even harder, if that’s possible. Her sweet, musky smell teases the air, making my mouth water. Sensing she’s close, I reach out. The tips of my fingers graze skin, and latch on, beginning to explore. I’m rewarded with toned legs. Working my way up to her hips, I squeeze her flesh, relishing how soft and
full she is, before pulling her to me. My mouth connects with her smooth stomach, and I kiss it, my tongue tracing the area around her belly button, nipping at her flesh.

  She runs her fingers through my hair, scratching my scalp, and I practically purr. I don’t think I can wait any longer.

  I need inside her.

  I need release.

  Sliding my hand farther down, I find her bare pussy and slip my middle finger through her folds to see if she’s ready for me.

  “Fuck.”

  I can’t help but sink my finger as deep as it’ll go, my palm putting pressure on her clit. Her soft gasp fills the room. Adding another finger, I pump into her, twisting as I pull out. When I bring them to my mouth, tasting her, she groans, her hands tightening in my hair.

  She likes my fingers.

  And she likes me tasting her.

  “You taste so good,” I tell her, unable to hide the smirk on my face, loving that her breathing has picked up and she has me in a vice grip.

  She’s turned on.

  She wants me.

  And she tastes like good and evil all wrapped into one.

  I want to taste more of her, have her mouth on me, but I can’t wait any longer.

  I have to fuck her.

  Now.

  As if she read my mind, she releases me and I hear the rustle of a foil packet. She rubs her hand up and down my shaft a few times before sliding a condom into place. I smile when her hands go to my shoulders and she straddles me, loving that she’s just as impatient as I am. When I lean forward, my mouth finds a nipple, and I greedily suck it into my mouth, swirling circles around the peak with my tongue. Her breasts are full and heavy in my hands, and I’m hopeful I’ll get the opportunity to fuck them, too.

  She whimpers, her hips rising, impatiently searching for friction.

  Releasing her tits, I grab my dick and drag it through her wetness, eliciting more whimpers and groans, pleas for more.

  “Take it,” I tell her. “Take my cock.”

  Bracing herself on my shoulders, she slides down, making us both moan in pleasure.

  So. Fucking. Good.

  “Yes,” she breathes out.

  Giving her a moment to adjust to my girth, my mouth goes back to worshipping her luscious tits.

  She’s an altar and I never want to leave.

  Slowly, she begins to move and my hands find her hips, gripping them as I move her up and down my dick.

  “Oh, fuck,” she moans, and I couldn’t agree more. I keep my lips latched onto her tits, carefully biting her nipple every time I thrust into her. She pushes my shoulders until I’m lying down flat, but she stays sitting up in order to ride my cock.

  I love the blindfold, but I wish I could watch her. She moves with wild abandon under my hands, and the smack I give her ass only encourages her, making her yelp and then moan, “Oh, God.”

  I’m not God, but right now, I feel like one.

  She gets louder and louder as I feel her pussy start to tighten and spasm around me. I find her clit with my thumb, and she screams as her orgasm takes over her body in waves. It seems like there’s more than one. I allow her to squeeze and ride it out until I can’t take it any longer. The sensations are too much for me to handle, and I flip her onto her back so I can speed up my thrusts.

  Grabbing for her leg, I hold it up by my shoulder, angling myself to go deep, wanting to feel her come again. I press into her clit.

  “You...feel so damn good. So warm...so tight,” I tell her, my words and breaths coming out in pants as I feel my balls begin to tighten. Chills cover my skin and I fucking come like I’ve never come before. The spasms are so forceful I can hardly hold myself up. I’m still recovering, groaning at the sensation of her hips slowly meeting mine, when she reaches up and removes my blindfold.

  We share a brief moment of eye contact, and I’m not surprised at all that she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And it’s not just the lack of blood in my brain.

  She’s fucking gorgeous.

  I’m not sure how long we stare into each other’s eyes, but it crosses a line of comfort… longer than necessary, longer than what is acceptable for someone you just met… fucked.

  Suddenly, her soft, warm body tenses and she begins to move, working her way out from under me.

  “Thanks,” she says, standing and immediately going for her clothes lying over the chair in the corner of the room.

  I watch as she slips a white lacy dress over her head, only given the pleasure of her backside. Her wavy brown hair is messy and falls loosely around her shoulders.

  Between the mind-blowing orgasm and the vision of her, she has me entranced. It’s not until she starts to put her foot into a black combat boot that I realize she’s going to leave, causing my heart to leap into my throat.

  I’m still lying here with my cock out. She can’t just leave.

  “Where are you going?” I ask, my voice sounding a bit panicked.

  She looks up at me halfway through pulling her second boot on and just stares at me. Then she squints her eyes before furrowing her brows. “I’m leaving.” Her tone is clipped, and she sounds annoyed, nothing like the breathy, panting moans from ten minutes ago.

  “Yeah,” I say, sliding off the bed. “I see that.” I pull my pants back on, tucking my dick in safely before zipping up. “But I don’t even know your name.”

  Standing there, she gawks at me like I have a third head, but she doesn’t say anything, just continues putting herself back together. Her fingers comb through her hair, trying to tame it. She has the freshly-fucked look perfected, and I smirk again, knowing I did that to her.

  When she turns toward the door, I feel the need to fill the silence, say something, anything to make her stay.

  “That…” I say, pointing back to the bed. “That was phenomenal.” I sound like a lawyer arguing his case, daring her to disagree with me.

  She turns around and sighs deeply, crossing her arms over her chest. “It was pretty good.” The quirk of her eyebrow and twist of her lips makes me want to press her up against the wall and show her pretty good.

  It was fucking at its finest, and she knows it.

  “Pretty good?” I question, my voice getting louder.

  “Look,” she says in exasperation, “I’ve gotta go.” She doesn’t give me another second, not even a backward glance. She just picks up her bag off the floor, tosses it onto her shoulder, and walks out, leaving me there with a semi hard-on, half-dressed.

  She still turns me the fuck on, even though she’s blowing me off.

  “Thanks!” I yell out the door behind her. I want to run after her, but she’s apparently done here. We’re apparently done here. Looking around the room, I check to make sure I didn’t leave anything. When I see the blindfold on the crumpled bed, I walk over and lean across to grab it. Unable to help myself, I breathe deeply, desperate for any lingering proof that the sex was as good as I thought it was. That happened. The sheets smell like sex—like her and me. I think about stripping them off and taking them too, but instead, I shove the blindfold in my pocket and walk out.

  I know it’s supposed to be fucking without any connection, like a one-night stand on steroids. And I was okay with that, in theory. I thought I could do it—get an adrenaline rush all while getting my dick wet. Get in and get out—no strings attached. But now, I’m not so sure.

  That might have been the single most amazing sexual experience of my life, and I don’t even know the girl’s name.

  I’m obviously going to have to do this again.

  It can’t end like this, with her walking out on me and never seeing her again. I need to at least know her name and maybe what her plans are for the next fifty years. At the very least, I need to fuck her one more time.

  Chapter 2

  “So,” Sebastian says, making himself comfortable, perched on the edge of my desk. “How did it go?”

  “It went,” I tell him, staring at my computer monitor, suddenly feeling clos
e-mouthed about the whole thing.

  He scoffs. “Yeah, dipshit. I was there.” Pausing, I know he’s waiting for me to expound on the situation. When I don’t, he huffs out his frustration as he stands and places both hands on my desk, leveling me with his stare. “I want details.”

  “She was...great.” I almost said pretty good, but I don’t.

  “Just great?” he asks, making it sound like an insult.

  I let out a deep breath through my nose and run a hand through my hair. “It was phenomenal. The best fuck of my life. Is that what you want to hear?”

  His face splits into a wide, knowing grin as he nods his head. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” He claps his hands together and walks over to the pool table that sits in the middle of my office. “You wanna head back over there with me again this week?”

  Racking the balls, he waits for my reply, but honestly, I don’t know. Sure, it was pure ecstasy, but what if I don’t get so lucky next time? What if the next time is horrible? I could get a wanna-be porn star and have to listen to twenty minutes of exaggerated moans of pleasure. Or she could be a squealer. I’ve never liked that.

  What I really want is to know her name.

  I want to be with her again.

  I don’t want another random fuck.

  Sebastian breaking the balls brings me out of my thoughts. “I don’t know. I might be busy this week.”

  “What’s with you, Jude?” He pockets a stripe and continues around the table, looking for his next move. “You’ve been acting weird since last week. I thought maybe it was because you didn’t like it, but you say it was phenomenal, so what gives?”

  “That’s the thing. It was so phenomenal I don’t want to try it again.”

  He’s going in for another shot when he suddenly stops, his eyes still on the green felt of the pool table. “So, you’re saying… What are you saying?” he asks, looking up at me with a confused expression, similar to the one she gave me.

  “I’m saying she was phenomenal.”

  “Oh, shit. You didn’t get all weird on her, did you?” he asks, worry etching his face. “Look, man. I got you into the club on my word. You mess this up and I’ll beat the shit out of you. Do you know how hard it is to even get an invite?” His face is turning red as his eyes squint in accusation.