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Follow the Signs
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Mystical Signs, Sagittarius
FOLLOW THE SIGNS
BY
MICHELE IMIOLA
www.VenusPress.com
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
FOLLOW THE SIGNS
Copyright © 2006 by Michele Imiola
ISBN: 1-59836-415-4
Cover Art © 2006 by Ravencrest Images
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the United States of America.
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Dedication:
For Jon who made me laugh and Serissa for all the stories--you two made the time go by quickly.
Prologue
Mike Sutherland slid his cock in deep, the tight rim squeezing around him like a vice. He groaned as his eyes shut, a feeling of satisfaction overwhelming him. There wasn’t a better place to be than inside a woman. This one’s ass was extremely tight and even though well lubricated, he still had to push with some force each time he moved. The brunette lying beneath him moaned as he pulled back, her hands now fists as she grabbed and pulled on the cotton sheets. Her ass followed his cock backwards, beckoning him on.
This had been her idea. He was all for a quick suck and then maybe a long fuck but when she suggested he take his ‘hunk of meat’, and put it in her ass, he wasn’t about to turn her down. Shit, he’d never turned down any woman for that matter. A second later, she held out a bottle of lube to him and he found himself quickly squirting a healthy amount of liquid over his cock and fingers and then applied some in her ass. He heard another groan and it didn’t sound good.
“Hey…” he paused, suddenly unable to remember her name. How in the hell could he forget her name? His dick was in her ass, for God’s sake. He knew her name before at the rehearsal dinner. He’d said it several times, keeping it on the tip of his tongue because he planned on putting his tongue into her before the night was through. Now, with his cock bedded in deep, he couldn’t recall what she went by. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t stop,” she giggled and Mike was caught short by her girlish behavior. He hadn’t been with a woman who giggled quite like that. He wondered if she was drunk. They’d had a lot to drink and she’d kept up with him.
He paused again, wondering if she was over eighteen. She had a set of breasts that certainly made her look older and she obviously had done this kind of thing before…but still? He stopped altogether, wracking his brain to come up with a name. He thought it started with a ‘C’ but for all he knew it could have been a ‘K’. He began to think all the women’s names he knew that began with ‘C’ but none of them seemed right for the giggling nymph under him.
“Get going back there,” she prompted him. He looked down at the creamy curves of her cheeks and his cock nestled tightly between. Her skin was smooth and his grabbed hold of her hips as he pushed in again.
“Hey, umm,” he paused again. He hated asking the woman’s name in the middle of the act, not that he’d had this problem before. He didn’t want her to think that he was only interested in fucking her. But in this case, it happened to be true. His only interest was fucking to get his mind off of other things, like the wedding he had to attend tomorrow. He’d been positive that fucking this nameless woman or any woman for that matter would make him forget everything…for about an hour. After that, he’d start drinking again and could really forget every problem he had in the world, at least until the hangover in the morning.
“I’m Christine,” she giggled. He didn’t mind laughter during sex but he preferred the husky sound of a woman who acted a little older. The way Christine laughed, she sounded way too young with too much to drink. They’d had wine with dinner and even hit the bar afterwards, using cocktails as foreplay. Mike had a bottle of champagne sent up to her hotel room and that disappeared quickly. He’d only had a glass. Maybe she was drunk and didn’t know he was fucking her ass. Hell, was she old enough to drink?
“Christine,” he said quickly, as if he hadn’t forgotten but was caught up in the moment. “How old are you?” he blurted out. He winced at his directness. Smooth, Mike. Real smooth.
“Old enough to know I like what you’re doing, so get going,” she giggled again. When he didn’t move, she added without a giggle, “I told you everything at dinner.” Mike couldn’t seem to recall much about dinner other than wondering when they were going to go to bed.
“I’m twenty-four. I’ve just graduated with my MBA and I’m Mia’s cousin from Kansas City. Now do you think you could get moving back there?” Mike needed little prompting as he pushed and pulled back, his erection feeling every tight inch of muscle that surrounded it. He could feel her pelvis clenching, squeezing tightly and then release.
It felt great but he knew he needed to get out of there. Hell, he hadn’t even been able to remember her name. He needed to stop screwing everything that moved and breathed. He had to get over his infatuation with his best friends fiancée and he needed to get a life. But first, he was going to fuck Christine and then maybe do it again and after that, maybe he’d focus on his real problem.
Mike leaned forward, running his hands down the soft skin of her back, wishing it was Mia lying face down on the bed. Christ, there he goes again, thinking about Mia Maxwell—who—starting tomorrow would be Mrs. Mia Kingsley, the wife of his best friend, Jason. He needed to just stop thinking about her but he couldn’t seem to help himself.
Eight months ago he’d met Mia, and unfortunately, so had Jason. They were at Hannigan’s having a scavenger hunt and the items being hunted were women of the sun signs. The object of the hunt was to find a woman with the sign you picked out of a hat and convince her to sleep with you. Jason had been lucky, meeting Mia who happened to be the sign he needed to find. Jason’s luck doubled when Mia didn’t slap him as he told her the requirement to win the hunt was a videotaped fuck-session. Mia not only didn’t slap Jason, she slept with him, filmed it and let the rest of the men of Delta Tau Delta Fraternity watch it as proof. Mike fell in immediate lust for her and after eight months, it hadn’t abated. Now tomorrow the woman of his dreams was going to walk down the aisle with his best friend.
“Fuck,” he said loudly.
“Yes!” Christine said breathlessly. “Fuck me harder, Mike.”
The fact that she’d remembered his name made him want to laugh. Maybe he was the one who was drunk. He just needed to finish this and get the hell out of here. He wasn’t really interested in Christine or any other woman for that matter. He wanted the red-headed vixen that flirted with him, teased him to no end but always went home with another man. He wanted to fuck her so badly he couldn’t think straight; obviously not if he was in Christine’s ass in the first place.
But that wasn’t ever going to happen. Mia was in love with Jason and as much as Mike hated the fact, he was happy for them. Jason was a good man and a great friend. He couldn’t help that he wanted his best friend’s woman. He wished he’d met her first. He loved her no-bullshit attitude and the raw sexuality that just seemed to pour out of her. Most of the women he met were like Christine, not t
hat there was anything wrong with her, but there wasn’t any connection other than sex. For once in his life, he wanted something more.
“Would you get moving?” Christine asked as she wiggled her hips, getting his attention again. She had a nice looking ass but after tonight, he no longer wanted to see it or her. Mike began thrusting, willing his cock to just explode so he could get to that bottle of Jack he had in his hotel room. He could spend the rest of the night getting drunk and trying to remember what he was supposed to do as the best man.
He pushed forward, grabbing her hips again and just moved mechanically. It’s just fucking. Just do it.
“I want you to meet my parents tomorrow,” Christine said and Mike stopped cold as his erection began to shrink. One thing he didn’t do was meet parents and having her parents at the wedding didn’t bode well for avoiding the situation.
Mike pushed again, trying to build up the hardness he’d lost, demanding his cock not fail him now. He really wanted to pull out and leave her and her undeniably fuckable ass. But if he did that, he knew he’d be the topic of conversation amongst the bridesmaids and he couldn’t have that. He had a reputation to protect. He wrapped his hand around Christine’s hips and felt between her legs. She was wet and he rubbed her clit while he rocked his hips. He didn’t think he could come but he’d be damned if she didn’t. His reputation would be more than damaged; it would be irreparable.
He worked his fingers quickly, making Christine squirm, which helped his flaccid state some. Her clit was hardening and he heard her breathing become a little ragged. She was squeezing him again, her pelvis twitching as tiny little waves of shocks jolted through her. He could feel it in her ass. That brought his cock up to full staff and he took the advantage, pushing again as his fingers strummed her body into a climax.
Holding on to her hips, Mike began to thrust hard, his balls slapping skin as he moved faster. He blocked his mind of every thought and just fucked. Soon he was coming, knowing it didn’t matter who was before him except that it was warm, tight and he couldn’t stop coming if he tried.
“That was great,” Christine said breathlessly as she fell onto the bed, taking Mike’s cock with her. Her brown hair was a tangled mess, covering her face as she lay there limp. He untangled his limbs and his dick from her body feeling as if he wasn’t actually there. He just fucked some woman whose name he couldn’t even be bothered to remember. The woman he wanted to fuck was marrying his best friend and he was the best man at their wedding.
Yeah, life was great. He needed to stop messing around and find a woman who rocked his world and just not in bed. He had to quit acting like a whore, sleeping with every female who even remotely looked at him. He should stop thinking with his dick and worrying about Ms. ‘Right Now’ and go after Ms. ‘Forever and Ever’. He had to figure out what he wanted out of life, something more than just fucking nameless women wishing they were someone else.
He wanted what Jason and Mia had; something that was cosmic, ethereal, something that only the stars could grant. It was a tall order but he could do it. He glanced at Christine. She moved the hair off her face and he saw her lips. They had been great to kiss…maybe he’d have another go with her.
Yeah, life was just fucking great. He’d need more than a fuck and a bottle of Jack to get it figured out.
Chapter One
Paige Remington glanced at the checklist and then moved behind the bar. It was over thirty feet long and covered a good portion of the back patio of the Kingsley estate. She glanced at the bottles of alcohol lined up in a row, inspecting the labels and making sure everything was in place.
This was the largest watering hole for the wedding reception and needed to provide a lot of liquor. There were two other stations set up on either side of the dance floor, close to the seating arrangements but this bar would be the center of attention. She glanced at her watch, noting the time. The wedding should be over by now and the guests on their way. Despite spending the past twenty-four hours getting the groom’s father’s estate ready for the reception, her job was just beginning and she loved it.
Weddings were special times and Jason and Mia were the perfect couple to cater for. They were easy going, letting Paige do her job. After selecting the menu and showing Paige where they planned to have their reception, the rest had been Paige’s baby and she loved to put on a show. She liked to see the look of contentment and excitement when everything went according to plan. It gave Paige a sense of fulfillment and meeting her customer’s needs was part of that.
Paige checked the cooler, knowing champagne would move fast. She had extra cases on hand because she knew from past experiences that champagne went down easy, and she never wanted to hear they’d run out. A pouting bride and a pissed-off groom where not a good combination so she always over-planned every occasion. She tried to make sure nothing was overlooked and hoped she hadn’t forgotten anything.
Noticing there was room for a few more bottles so she opened another case, easily slipping the tall green bottles towards the back. She grabbed a bag of ice and ripped it open, pouring the chips over the warm bottles, urging them to chill quickly.
She turned back to the bar, giving the area one final look. She noticed a man leaning against the bar, his two arms holding his body in place. His head was bent forward and his blond bangs shadowed his face. She glanced around, looking for Marlene. She should be here already. Her break should have been over fifteen minutes ago. She should be standing at attention, awaiting the first order, which by the looks of it, was this man.
Paige moved down the bar, placing her clipboard onto the counter rather loudly. The blond lifted his head and Paige paused, catching a glimpse of gorgeous blue eyes. Her body tightened with instant heat and then she paused. He looked familiar.
“What can I get you?” Paige asked quickly. He had a beautiful face with full lips but he was still a customer and she still had a job, even if she just out right wanted to kiss those lips, no questions asked.
“Jack, on the rock,” he responded, watching her. Paige moved efficiently, having spent a lot of years doing just this task. She grabbed a glass, filled it with ice, poured two fingers worth of whiskey and turned back to her customer, forgetting for a moment he was gorgeous. That stopped her short. Customer, drink, deliver…she told herself but for some reason, his eyes held her like a deer in headlights. She just couldn’t move as she felt every part of her body react. Where had she seen his face before?
As he grinned, a dimple showed at the center of his left cheek and Paige felt a warm heat rush through her as if she’d swallowed the drink herself. She placed the glass down, rather clumsily and moved back.
“Wedding over?” she asked quickly. Shut up, Paige. Obviously it was over. He wore a tux, had the cummerbund in the color of the wedding party and he was asking for alcohol…or he could have skipped the wedding, which many guests did and went straight to the reception…or he could be someone no one knew, a wedding crasher here for the food, women and of course, free booze.
“Yep,” he said, watching her over his glass as he took a big swallow. He shook the glass, mixing the dark liquor with the ice and then finished off the drink. “Can I get another?” Paige noticed his eyes looked slightly blood shot already and thought maybe she should offer a Bloody Mary instead. But she grabbed the glass and poured him another Jack. He took another healthy swig and put the glass on the counter, letting out a big sigh as the alcohol settled. She wasn’t sure if it was good or bad.
“Everything okay?” she asked curiously. She didn’t want to be nosey but this was a wedding and the man seemed less than enthused to be here. He had to know the wedding party—unless he was just there to get drunk.
“Great,” he muttered and lifted his eyes at her. “Just fucking great.” That wasn’t the response she’d been hoping for. As a bartender, she’d learned firsthand to ask few questions and listen a whole lot. Most people drank to forget, to get drunk or to get laid. She thought this guy was probably going for a
ll three.
“There was a wedding?” Paige asked, suddenly panicked. She hoped to God there had been a wedding. She had food prepared for over three-hundred guests and no, it could not be returned.
“Oh, there was a wedding all right,” he said, putting his elbows back on the bar. Paige noticed his height then, taller than her five-foot ten inch frame barefoot but as he leaned forward, he was closer to eye level with her and she had her flats on.
“Tell me,” she said, wanting to add ‘before I go into a fit of panic’. He raised a brow at her and hoped he didn’t think she was one of those women who got all giddy over weddings. She thought they were beautiful, plain and simple. Maybe she’d do it herself one day, if the stars were aligned properly.
“Well,” he said as he gave a quick roll of his eyes, “I guess you would call it beautiful, a memorable event and now it’s done.” Paige stood perfectly still. She hadn’t expected that kind of answer and then she realized she didn’t know what she expected. Maybe this guy was anti-weddings.
“You’re in the wedding party?” she asked, curious who this strange and too sexy man was. It was driving her nuts that she couldn’t remember where she’d seen him before.
“Best Man,” he said, tipping his glass to her in salute. He drank the rest and then laid the glass down close to her, obviously asking for a refill. She leaned and grabbed the bottle, pouring more than two fingers worth and looked up at the Best Man. His eyes were a fascinating blue and they were glued to her chest.
Paige looked down quickly, praying the stupid button that kept popping open on her shirt hadn’t popped out, leaving a wide gapping slit down the front of her blouse. She could feel her nipples puckering against the black vest she wore over her blouse. Smart move as her nipples hardened even tighter.