Meet the Naturals: Lucy Stark

Part Five of our story is written by Lucy Stark, an NA reader and writer. Look for her books in the near future. If you haven't read Part One, Part Two, Part Three, and Part Four, please read them first. Don't forget to stick around to the end for a chance to win awesome prizes.

The Boy Next Door (Pt. 5)

It was pretty sweet, walking into a party that contained so many people I went to high school with on the arm of Ben Simons. It was also pretty sweet how many people he introduced me to as the swim team’s mascot for the Jensen incident. It made me sound like a mermaid or something.

“Can I get you a beer, Natalie?” Ben asked, his breath warm against my ear. I shivered and nodded. The way he said my name was... pleasant. He walked off and I needed to cool down. I slid into the pool and breathed in the familiar tang of chlorine. It reminded me of Ben’s scent. And his neck. And his lips. Well, I was not cooling down any time soon.

Pushing off against the smooth concrete, I relaxed into a float and closed my eyes against the setting sun. The sounds of the party faded as the water lapped against my ears. Ben Simons’ date. So far, my evening was really making up for the Derek debacle. Plus, all that time squatting in his closet meant I was feeling pretty good about my legs in this bikini.

Legs that were suddenly not alone. A finger trailed soft and hot over my infamous right knee. Through a cracked eye, I saw Ben. He’d left the beers on the edge of the pool. Fine by me. I was much more interested in a taste of him at the moment. His finger traced the shape of my thigh, past the soft hollow where the string of my bikini bottoms rested. I shivered as it brushed up my side, grazing the side of my breast.

“You are one hell of a woman,” he murmured. The deep sound of his voice seemed to vibrate deep in my belly. I smiled as his finger continued its agonizingly slow ascent towards my chin. He tipped it up and bent down to kiss me. My lips just barely touched those of the most gorgeous swimmer to ever grace the lanes of Central High, and already my desire for him was Olympic-sized. His tongue danced around mine. It was a good thing he’d moved his arms around me, because I forgot to float.

I leaned into him, his face in my hands, forgetting to breathe. He guided us towards the edge of the pool and out of the way of a rowdy game of Chicken. Pressed into his body, my back to the cement, I could tell he had an Olympic-sized desire too. His head dipped and he nipped at my neck. I groaned and tilted my head to give him better access. One of his hands tangled in my hair and tugged as the other slid around to my abdomen. He nudged my legs apart with one of his as his fingers slipped beneath the lycra and did award-winning things to my vulva. I opened my eyes with a gasp as I came, the sunset casting the ripples of the pool as orange as the fireworks in my head. I threw my head back in bliss, and promptly crashed it right into the beer bottles. They clattered noisily to the deck, drawing the attention of about twenty of my former classmates.

“Nice work, Swim Team Mascot!” someone yelled, followed by a round of laughter. So much for being discreet.

“We should go inside,” Ben’s voice murmured huskily through his grin. He pulled me out of the pool and began to cut a path through the crowd. It seemed to have swelled since I got into the pool. The crowd wasn’t the only thing, I reflected as I followed Ben’s muscular back.

“Slut.” The voice came from the deck chairs to the left. Ben and I stopped at the same time.

“Derek.” Ben’s voice held the calm anger of someone who was about to--yep, he was pulling his arm back to clock that little fuckshovel for a second time. I put my hand on his bicep.

“May I?” I asked him. He smiled, and bowed in Derek’s direction. I flexed a couple times, and delivered the most epically damaging crotch-knee of my career. It was my turn to bow as I left Derek sobbing on the deck and headed into Ben’s house.

We’d hardly gotten into his room before he was on me.

“You, Natalie Baker, are dangerous.”

“Mm-hmm,” I moaned into his mouth.

“And tough as nails.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And the sexiest girl I’ve seen since high school.”

I pulled my head back. “Who was the sexy girl then? April Taylor? Shawna Mataya?”

He pulled my lower lip into his mouth and shook his head gently at the same time. I darted my tongue against his until he let me go.

“Julia Albin? Cady Stark? Oh! Emily King. You guys dated for like, ever.”

This time when he pulled my lip in, he bit it.

“You, stupid. I had a crush on you all through high school, but you were intimidating.”

“Me? I’m a kitten.” I attempted to purr, while taking his pants off at the same time. Wet swimsuits tend to stick more than jeans do.

“I thought you’d eat me alive.” He pushed my hands against the bedroom wall and slithered out of his trunks himself. The best part about string bikinis is that you will never have to watch a man struggle to get them off, even if they aren’t as obviously experienced as Ben Simons. A few quick tugs and we were naked, dripping, and breathing hard in the middle of what had to be his childhood bedroom.

I shoved him, and he fell easily onto the bed beneath the Muse poster. I hopped up to straddle his tanned, chiseled body.“Oh, I will,” I promised, as I pressed his willing hands onto my breasts and rubbed hard against his cock, sliding back and forth as Ben groaned.

Lucy Stark loves wine, boys, and macaroons, not necessarily in that order. She thinks writing kissing scenes is hard, but not nearly as hard as writing her bio. And writing her bio is certainly not as thrilling.

Look for Lucy's NA romance SOUTHERN ROCK to arrive Fall 2013.

Here's your chance to enter two giveaways. Come back tomorrow for PART 6, the conclusion of our story and a chance to win more prizes. 

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