Cravings

The club was busy. But then, it usually was on a Saturday night. Jack had his eye on the dance floor. Namely on his wife. Alexis and her best friend Stephanie were having their monthly ladies’ night out. Or rather ladies’ night in as he didn’t like them leaving the hotel. Not that they minded. What couldn’t they find at Allure? They had the works done at the spa, had an expensive meal at one of the best restaurants in Vegas, and now were living it up on the dance floor. And all in the safe confines of his hotel. Just how he liked her—safe and confined.

It gave him peace of mind.

Well, it did when assholes didn’t try to hit on her. Jack’s jaw clenched, and he made his way to Alexis when he saw the asshole start to make his move. After six years of marriage, the sight of it never got easier, but he had learned to control his first impulse—beating the shit out of any fucker daring to go near Alexis. Now he only stepped in if anyone dared to lay a hand on her.

Growth and maturity. His wife was so proud.

And Jack was all about making his wife happy.

Always.

Alexis had already put the asshole in his place by the time he reached the edge of the dance floor so instead of approaching her, he pulled out his phone. He hit a button and brought it to his ear. “It’s time.” Disconnecting, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and waited. It didn’t take long for the first beats of (Everything I Do) I Do It for You to start. The song was an oldie, and he knew the people dancing wouldn’t be happy, but it was their song, so he didn’t give not one fuck.

As expected, people started to migrate off the floor, but not Alexis. He saw her eyes dart around the perimeter. They landed on him. Then he got her smile. The special one she reserved just for him.

She crooked a finger and like a fucking trained dog, he didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t even think to hesitate.

Her arms twined around his neck, his hands landing on her ass, when he reached her. She looked up at him, her smile still in place, her curls framing her gorgeous face, and her amber eyes shining in the overhead lights.

“How did I know you were going to do that?”

He played innocent. “Do what?”

“Play our song so you could come over and claim me.”

One of his hands caressed the bare line of her back—his favorite spot. Well, one of many favorite spots. He shrugged a shoulder. “Is it a crime to want to dance with my wife?”

She twined her fingers in his hair. “If that’s all it was, then no. But it seemed like convenient timing.” She yanked on a lock of his hair. “I had that guy under control.”

He shrugged again. “Never said you didn’t.”

Her lips pursed and he wanted to kiss them. “It was implied.”

He gave her a knowing smile but refused to say anything else incriminating. They grew quiet as they were transported into the song. She was plastered against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

They swayed to the music.

And when the song came to the chorus, he bent his head and sang the words into her ear.

He felt her shiver.

And press closer against him.

After a few more beats, she tipped her head back and looked up at him. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”

“What’s that?”

“Vanilla ice cream.”

His brow puckered. “You don’t like vanilla ice cream.” She was a chocolate girl, rocky road being her favorite.

Her smile grew mischievous. “I said I was in the mood for it, not that I’d be eating it. I have it on good authority that it’s your favorite.”

Liking where she was going, he smirked. “I’m also partial to chocolate sauce and whipped cream.”

“Umm,” she purred, making his dick so hard it pressed painfully against the zipper of his slacks. “Yes, but chocolate sauce can get very… sticky.”

“I’ll be sure to lick my bowl clean.”

And that’s when he got her sexy-as-fuck laugh and the creamy line of her throat as she tipped her head back.

He hated to bring it up—especially as something else was already up—but… “What about ladies’ night?”

Alexis looked to her right and Jack followed her gaze to find Steph dancing in her husband’s arms.

“Somehow I don’t think Steph will mind if it ends a little early.”

Jack agreed and added, “Nor Max.”

The last chords of their song faded away. “What do you say we get out of here and go home.”

He grinned down at her. “I say that will take too long. My parents have the girls for the night, why don’t we go upstairs to the penthouse.”

“What about the ice cream?”

“We’ll stop and get some on the way.”

Jack didn’t waste time dragging Alexis out of the club after they stopped to inform Steph and Max of their deflection. A development, Jack noted, that didn’t upset either of them much if the gleam in Max’s eye and smile on Steph’s lips were any indication. He had a feeling ice cream sundaes were in their immediate future, as well.

They made a pit stop at the mezzanine level ice cream parlor to stock up then hit the penthouse elevator. Jack inserted his keycard, hit the up button, dropped their bag of goodies to the floor, then captured his wife.

She didn’t protest.

Not even when he arched her back over the handrail, his fingers finding the very short hem of her dress, his hand traveling up her bare thigh.

Then he did something he’d wanted to do for the last hour while watching her move her luscious body on the dance floor.

He kissed her.

Not just any kiss.

The kiss.

The one that told her exactly how he felt about her.

How much he craved her.

How much he loved her.

Her fingers went to the back of his head and tangled in his hair. He always left it long enough for her to grab hold. He loved the bite at his scalp, and the graze of her nails never failed to give him goosebumps.

She tasted of wine and the berry lip gloss she wore and Alexis.

Sweet.

Potent.

Intoxicating.

His hand slipped under the silk of her panties, palmed the globe of her ass, and squeezed.

He swallowed her moan and fed her a growl.

Anticipation was making his dick throb. He’d never been more excited for vanilla ice cream and knew just the spot he wanted to lap it from first.

The elevator came to a smooth stop and the doors parted.

It had been a while since they’d visited but housekeeping kept the place clean and dust free. Looking around, he had fond memories of the place. His lips twisted into a smirk. Some more than fond.

The place used to be his home. His sanctuary. And then he’d met Alexis, and he’d wanted nothing more than to be invaded by her.

All their firsts were done there. On that couch. The bed upstairs. The desk in the office. He took her virginity in that very bedroom.

Fuck, he needed to get a grip or they’d both be coming before he even had a chance to get the damn lid off the ice cream container.

Hooking the strap of their goodie bag over his wrist, he scooped Alexis into his arms and took the stairs two steps at a time, reaching the top in record speed.

He tossed her on the bed, and after a small bounce, she laughed, getting up to lean back on her hands so her tits were pushed out front and center, her feet—in sexy-as-hell, red, fuck-me pumps—crossed at her ankles.

“Hungry?” she raised her brows.

Dropping the bag on the nightstand, he tugged at his tie, yanking it off. “Starved.”

“Good.” Reaching behind her neck, she unhooked a strap and the halter-style bodice fell to her lap, revealing her naked breasts—the cut of the dress making it impossible to wear a bra.

Lucky him.

He had a flashback of another outfit—halter style—the one she wore while cocktail waitressing. The outfit she’d worn the first time he’d made love to her.

And it had been love.

It had been love at first sight with his Alexis.

Her nipples puckered under his stare and her tit’s bounced in a tantalizing way as she dropped to her elbows. “The ice cream is melting,” she purred, and the husky note spurred him to action.

He ripped at the buttons on his shirt, tossing the fabric aside before stripping off the rest of his clothes.

Alexis wiggled her feet. “Shoes on or off?”

“On. Definitely, on.”

Her throaty laugh filled the room as he reached into the bag and pulled out the pint of vanilla ice cream.

He placed a knee to the bed. “But I do want your clothes off.”

In a few deft moves, he had her lying before him bare. Grabbing the ice cream, he settled between her legs and pried off the lid. A mound of swirled, creamy soft serve came into view.

He dipped his finger in, scooped out a bit, and brought it to her lips. Her tongue darted out and licked his finger.

“How is it?”

“Soft, creamy,” she licked her lips, “and delicious.”

Fuck, she was killing him.

He scooped out another dollop, this time coating her nipple.

Her breath hitched. “It’s cold.”

He smirked. “I’ll warm it up.”

Capturing her nipple, he sucked it between his teeth, and swallowed down the ice cream before warming it with his tongue.

She arched into him and moaned. He did it again then switched breasts. Then went down, drizzling her abdomen with chocolate and taking his sweet-ass time while licking it up.

“Jack!”

“Right here, sweetheart.”

“Hurry.”

He knew what she wanted, but he wouldn’t be rushed. Instead, he paused in his descent to tongue ice cream from her navel.

She was squirming, her movements growing frantic.

Fuck it.

He tossed the ice cream container to the floor, reached under her thighs, and lifted, bringing her to his mouth.

“Yes.” Her head fell back, the long line of her neck exposed. His dick throbbed but he ignored it, working her with his lips, tongue, and fingers.

And then she spasmed, and he took his dick in hand and planted himself deep.

Nothing felt better than being inside his wife. He pulled out, then surged back in. Her legs wrapped around his waist, the bite of the spiky heels, digging into his ass.

Her fingers clutched at his shoulders. “Oh, God, don’t stop.”

He found her clit with his thumb, gritting his teeth as he worked both it and her, wanting her to come again before he exploded. “Come on, baby. Find it for me.”

“Jack!” She arched and then quivered in his arms.

Growling Alexis’s name, he stilled, emptying himself into her.

He felt her go limp, and he collapsed on top of her, being careful not to give her his full weight as he buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent as he caught his breath.

His lips skimmed over her jaw, found her mouth.

He kissed her.

The kiss.

And it was fucking sweet.

She looked up at him, eyes lidded, giving him his smile. “Was it good?”

His lips curled, giving her a sexy smirk. “Sweeter than fucking vanilla ice cream.”

I hope you enjoyed this ice cream-sweet short story. Want to know how Jack and Alexis got their start? If so, you can find Alluring here.