Chapter 5 — Without Looking

The stranger eased Emily down onto the bed and followed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He was tall enough that when he settled over her, he covered her completely—shoulders, chest, and the whole length of him blocking out most of the cheap motel light.

Emily’s hands went to his back. The bruises under her palms made him flinch again, but he didn’t pull away.

Then he kissed her neck first. She tipped her head to give him more room and felt his mouth open against her skin. His hands found the hem of her shirt and pushed it up. She lifted her arms so he could get it off. The second it was gone, he tossed it somewhere behind him and went back to her mouth, then lower.

He kissed across the top of her bra, down between her breasts, and over her ribs. When his mouth reached her stomach, she sucked in a breath and felt him smile against her skin. His fingers worked the button of her jeans open while he kept kissing lower, dragging his mouth along the soft line just above the waistband.

Then Emily’s brain caught up.

“Wait—”

He stopped immediately, head lifting, hands still on her open jeans.

“What?”

“I haven’t shaved.” She stared at the ceiling. “I mean it. It’s bad.”

His mouth twitched. “How bad are we talking?”

“I wasn’t exactly planning on ending up in a motel with a stranger tonight, alright?”

She almost said I just got out of the county, and shaving my pussy was the last fucking thing on my mind in there, but the words slammed into the back of her teeth and stayed there.

Instead, she went with, “You know, I work really long hours…shifts.”

He looked at her for a second longer, then the laugh he’d been holding finally slipped out—quiet, surprised, and not mean.

“You’re serious.”

“Yes, I’m serious. Stop smiling.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

He was. He tried not to and failed. “Alright. Come here.”

He leaned down and kissed her neck again, while one hand slid under the open waistband of her jeans and then under her underwear. His fingers moved slowly, not pushing, just finding her—

And stopped.

The hair was thicker than he’d expected. Coarse against his fingertips, warm from her skin.

He could feel the difference immediately—the way it caught slightly against the pads of his fingers before he reached the smoother, slicker heat underneath.

Emily felt the exact second he felt it. His hand went still against her.

She stared at the ceiling. “I told you.”

“Yeah,” he said, voice a little rough. “You did.”

“It’s bad.”

He smiled again. “It’s just hair.”

“Well, it’s a lot of hair. Told you… Didn’t really have time to…you know.”

He huffed something that might have been a laugh against her neck. The sound vibrated against her pulse. “I think they’re sexy, actually.”

“Don’t lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.” His fingers shifted slightly, just resting there, not moving yet.

The hair tickled the side of his hand. He could already feel how wet she was further in—heat and slickness coating the tips of his fingers even without him pressing deeper.

“It’s normal,” he added. “People have hair. It’s not a crime.”

“I still feel weird.”

“You’re not weird for not shaving.” He kissed her neck once more, lips open against the side of her throat. “But you want me to stop?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No.”

“Alright.”

His hand started moving again. He didn’t try to avoid anything; he just worked with what was there, fingers sliding through the coarse hair until he found the wetter heat underneath. The hair dragged against his skin with every small movement, thicker near the top, softer and soaked where she was already open for him.

Emily’s breath went short the second he reached her clit.

“If you’re that worried about it,” he said against her throat, “I don’t have to look. I can still make you feel good without seeing anything.”

She didn’t answer right away. Her hips shifted once under his hand, almost automatic, pressing up into the pressure of his fingers.

He took that as permission and started rubbing her—two fingers sliding through the wetness that was already there, the hair making everything feel denser under his touch.

He circled her clit slowly and gently, the slickness letting him move smoothly even with the hair catching between his fingertips. He kept his mouth on her neck the whole time, kissing and occasionally biting just hard enough to make her jolt. Each time his teeth scraped her skin, her thighs tightened around his hand.

Emily moaned as her hands fisted in the sheets. She tried to keep quiet and lasted about ten seconds before a rougher sound left her.

He smiled at her reaction and adjusted the angle of his fingers—pressing flatter, using the pad of his middle finger right over the swollen spot—and the next sound was louder.

“Fuck—”

“There?”

She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see it with his face against her neck. “Yeah. Right there. Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He kept the same rhythm, steady and focused, while his other hand braced beside her head so he didn’t crush her.

Every time her breathing got more uneven, he pressed a little harder or changed the circle just enough to keep her from getting used to it. The hair dragged slightly against his fingers with every movement, matted against her skin where his hand kept working. He could feel how much wetter she was getting—slick coating his fingers, the heat of her almost startling against the cooler air of the room.

Then Emily’s thighs started to shake. She turned her face into his shoulder and bit down on the muscle there when the tension finally broke.

“Ah…fuck…”

The orgasm hit hard enough that her whole body locked up under him. She made a broken, muffled sound against his skin and kept shaking while he worked her through it, slowing only when she twitched from being too sensitive. She clenched around nothing, pulsing against his fingers in small, involuntary waves.

He left his hand there a few seconds longer, feeling the last of the tremors, then carefully pulled it out of her jeans. His fingers came away shiny and warm.

Emily lay there breathing hard, staring at the ceiling, face hot.

He looked down at her. For a second he just stared at his own hand. Then, without any warning, he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean, eyes still on her while he did it.

Emily gasped. “Oh, wow.”

He raised an eyebrow, then pulled his fingers free and gave her a look that made Emily’s face heat all over again. Then he sat up and reached for the shirt.

“You’re leaving?” she asked.

He pulled the shirt over his head, then reached for his hoodie and worked his arms into the sleeves.

“No.”

He tugged the hoodie down over his shirt, still watching her with the faintest smile.

Emily frowned. “Then why are you getting dressed?”

“I’m grabbing something for you. You wait here.”