Girl-Nerds Like it Longer (Erotic Romance) Book 4

  GIRL-NERDS LIKE IT LONGER

  BOOK FOUR OF THE GIRL-NERD SERIES

  BY RACHEL DUNNING

  Copyright © 2013 Rachel Dunning.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Cover Design Copyright © 2013 Rachel Dunning.

  Cover Photo Copyright © 2013 iko.

  Obtained from Shutterstock and used with permission.

  Smashwords Edition

  ISBN: 9781311408624

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  By Rachel Dunning:

  Know Me, #1 Truthful Lies

  Find Me, #2 Truthful Lies

  Finding North, #1 Naïve Mistakes Trilogy

  East Rising, #2 Naïve Mistakes Trilogy

  West-End Boys, #3 Naïve Mistakes Trilogy

  Like You, #1 Perfectly Flawed Series

  Christmas Comfort, #1 Hot Holidays Series

  Girl-Nerds Like it Harder, #1 Girl-Nerd Series

  Girl Nerds Like it Faster, #2 Girl-Nerd Series

  Girl-Nerds Like it Deeper, #3 Girl-Nerd Series

  Girl-Nerds Like it Longer, #4 Girl-Nerd Series

  For news of upcoming releases, visit:

  http://racheldunningauthor.blogspot.com

  Table of Contents

  FOREWORD

  PROLOGUE

  GIRL-NERDS LIKE IT LONGER

  MORE STEAMY BOOKS

  FOREWORD

  Size matters.

  And in the case of the Girl-Nerds series, shorter has always been better. Because that's what this series is about: Short, fun, and sexy.

  Except in the case of this particular book. This one is longer. Much longer. Longer than all the others. In other words, it's the longest.

  But there really is no pun intended in that at all.

  Sort of not.

  Enjoy. ;)

  Love,

  R

  P.S. It goes without saying that this book is intended for adults only.

  If you want news of upcoming releases, please subscribe here:

  http://racheldunningauthor.blogspot.com

  PROLOGUE

  Someone gets jealous...

  GIRL-NERDS LIKE IT LONGER

  -1-

  I was done giving people direct access to my hard drive. What Nathan Lockwood did to me had been a bigger shock than finding out the NSA was probably spying on all the times I maybe navigated to that "Sexy Dude with Abs Shows Off his Gleaming Tool" link on my computer. The terabytes of lustful desire I'd felt for Nathan after I discovered he'd secretly videoed us having sex on our first time, were reduced to nothing more than fragments of permanently deleted files in my mind's recycle bin.

  I needed a memory-wipe of him. The only problem is that human memory is Read-Only Memory. Once it's written, it can't be erased—at least not without mistakenly nuking a few important system files necessary for a proper boot-up.

  My sexual bandwidth was spent. And I wasn't willing to upgrade or renew my contract either. I'd had enough of being the "bad girl" and drowning my sorrows in sex. I was ready for the plunge. I was ready for what those mail-order brides in those cookie-cutter Russian dating websites look for when they put up semi-nude photos of themselves in the hopes of catching some American fish who will give them what they truly need.

  And it ain't money.

  I was ready for the big L.

  That I loved Clayton Remington, the boy with eyes so blue they could double-up as a Facebook background, was not in question. I'd come to know this already. I'd come to accept that the love-bug I had for him had somehow installed itself as far down as my system BIOS. (For those of you less technically minded, that basically means there's no getting rid of it!)

  I'd come to accept that the worm had been launched and now it was replicating itself in the semi-conductors of my veins. There was no going back.

  I'd also come to accept that I'd dumped Clayton, that I'd then spent months sleeping with another man—an experienced and physically dominant man. And I'd come to accept that, although I might certainly grant Clayton entry through my newly opened gateway, Clayton might not want to send me an entry-request in the first place.

  -2-

  After the mortifying night of me discovering about BadAssTexan Nathan's voyeuristic activities, and his fetish for recording the girls with which he slept, Clayton and I spent the night together in his dorm room.

  In sleep-mode.

  I'd successfully logged off of Bad-Ass Nathan's network and requested deletion of my account and personal data from him. In other words, we'd officially broken up. I think me sending his laptop through his sliding door windows with a crash had made that clear enough.

  The next morning, Clayton powered up before I did, and when the webcam of my eyes finally saw the sunlight, I saw he was dressed in denims and a white tee. He sat on the dorm bed across from the one I was on. His tee said, in big-black-letters, FRONT-END. I knew that shirt. On the back it said, WHERE IT ALL REALLY HAPPENS.

  In his hands was a magazine that said WAVE on the front and had a picture of a dude that looked like he was about to be crushed by one big mofo of an ocean wave!

  "Sleep well?" he asked me.

  I looked at him from under his warm comforter and said, "M-hmmm."

  I was still a little sleepy, but Clayton's sex appeal was too strong to have me doze off again. Besides, he and I hadn't really spoken in so long that I'd never been able to say that I liked his longer hair. So I said it now. "I like your hair."

  "Yeah, makes me look more like a surfer." He grabbed a few golden strands by his neck and looked at them.

  "You gonna let it grow more?" I asked.

  "Nope. This is good enough."

  It wasn't only the comforter making me warm. It was also his English accent.

  "So, was...she...actually divorced this time round?"

  "She?"

  "Yeah, the, um..."

  "The sugar-mommy," he said.

  "Right. Her." I sat up.

  Although it had been so long ago, I couldn't help thinking of how Clayton and I had sat in almost this exact same configuration while the snow had come plummeting down and I, for the first time in my life, had gotten moist and squishy and orgasmed to high heaven because of a boy.

  But, not today. Not today.

  I'd been a virgin last year. Now, I'd had so much freaking sex that I was fast approaching cheap-website skank mode. And even though I might tell myself that I loved Clayton, I really had to make sure this time. All that sex with Nathan had made my processor feel a little...overheated.

  "Layla, you listening?"

  "Sorry, what?"

  "I said, yes, I learned my lesson the first time. So I only got together with her this time once she'd officially divorced her husband. But is that really the first thing you wanted to ask me this morning?"

  "No, I'm sorry..." I moved my mahogany hair around my ear. I'd decided to keep it that color, although I was definitely going back to my geek clothes now. "I was just trying to make chit-chat."

  "You know we're beyond chit-chat, don't you? I mean, especially seeing as you told me you love me yesterday."

  My brow went cold. "I didn't tell you. I texted it to you."

&n
bsp; "Same thing."

  God, his accent felt like hands rubbing Vicks Vapor Rub on my chest. "And?"

  "You said you wanted to take this slowly."

  "I did. And...I don't expect you to tell me you love me as well but—"

  "I love you."

  "Wh—sorry, come again?" I said.

  "I said, I do love you..."

  We stared at each other silently.

  Now, here comes the part I struggle with when it comes to love. The thing I don't like about it:

  Computers are nice and dry and should be kept cool with fanning systems and cooling systems and all sorts of systems.

  This freaking wetware I carried around between my legs wouldn't stop gushing when no one pressed the button for it to gush in the first place!

  Yes, my lips below were...um...rather moist and warm now. Clayton had just told me he loved me!

  "Layla?"

  "Yes?"

  "Love isn't enough."

  "I'm sorry... What?"

  "Love, it is not enough. You and I fucked too quickly, too soon. You hurt me when you left me. Hurt me bad."

  "I know." I was looking down now, at the comforter on my knees.

  "I've loved you ever since that first night we spent together in this room. I loved you when you ran off with that...older guy— How old was he, by the way?"

  "Thirty-three or so. But your sugar-mommy is also old."

  He grinned.

  "Hey!" I said, pointing at him. "You're blushing!"

  "Am not."

  "Are too!"

  He inhaled deeply. "Well, now we're both a little more experienced than before."

  "You were always experienced," I said, feeling the heat on my skin pick up with every sentence. My panties below were soaking already, and it wasn't getting any better.

  Clayton shrugged at the statement. "Layla, if we don't get out of my room, we're gonna end up taking each other's clothes off faster than a quad-core processor."

  His eyes dazzled me as he'd said it. He was right, of course.

  I shook my head. "Freaking hormones. Can't they just listen to an on-off switch like real machines do?"

  "Maybe we're not machines."

  "Of course we are!"

  "Wet machines."

  "Exactly," I said, rolling my eyes. I realized I'd given him a little insight into my little plumbing problem down there.

  His eyes bulged. "God! And you wanted to take it slow..."

  My skin felt like it had chili peppers all over it. I felt moisture break out of every pore under my tee. "Clay, I'm so...confused—"

  "I love your accent, you know that?"

  "Huh?"

  "I said I love your accent."

  "Really? All you British types have such a better one."

  He shrugged. Then I saw him shift his legs slightly. "If you're British, British is not sexy. American is."

  "You're so logical."

  "Layla." Now he sounded stern, serious. "I'm not one of these...Texan Alpha Males or whatever you romance readers call it—"

  "I don't read romances."

  He chuckled. "Sci-fi?"

  "Is there any geek who doesn't read sci-fi? There's a lot of fact in sci-fi."

  "Layla, I'm trying to find excuses not to rip your shirt off and wrap my lips around your breasts. And you telling me you read sci-fi is not helping. Next you're probably gonna tell me your favorite book in the whole world is Ender's Game."

  "My favorite book in the whole world is Ender's Game."

  "Do you believe in The Matrix?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you believe in god?"

  "The Matrix is god."

  "You make me so horny. How did a bunch of geeks like us end up being such sex-crazed college kids?"

  "I think all college kids end up being sex-crazed at one time or another."

  "Layla, I was trying to tell you something!"

  "Sorry, go ahead."

  He finally put his magazine down. Then he shifted his cock over with his hand, not even trying to hide it anymore. I had to look away.

  And, you guessed it already, gush.

  "What I was trying to say is, I am no 'BadAssTexan'—"

  "Ha ha, that's not funny."

  "Sorry, I admit it was a small dig. I mean, what a username! Anyway, stop interrupting! I'm...me. And, well, I don't know what you guys did but I imagine it involved very little talking and a lot of screwing."

  He waited a second, his eyes scorching me.

  I nodded slightly, feeling a little shallow at how he'd put it. "It was more than that...sort of."

  "I'm not trying to put you down. You did what you did and it's not my place to judge. But all I suppose I'm trying to say is...well...if you're not ready for sex, I'm definitely not ready for it either. Because...I can't just fuck a girl and then have her leave me."

  My eyes felt prickly suddenly... "I know, I'm sorry about—"

  He put his hand up. "No, that's not why I'm mentioning it. I can respect your fears, especially after what you told me about how young you were when your dad passed. I'm just telling you this because I also think we should"—he swallowed—"wait."

  He looked as if he was trying to convince himself more than me.

  I felt a force push me toward him, even though I wasn't physically moving. The honesty and intimacy of the moment was making me want to do the exact opposite with him that I'd done with Nathan.

  It was making me want to make love to him...

  "You wanna go get something to eat?" I asked, trying to find something mundane we could do that would allow both of us emotional wrecks to move on and not rip each other's duds off.

  He didn't answer, just looked at me. Then he said, "If you want."

  "Well, um, I mean, or we could hang out here..."

  He swallowed. I saw the smallest of twitches by his crotch.

  He was hard, I could see it.

  And I was wet as a lake.

  I cleared my throat.

  Silence lingered...

  It lingered more.

  He cleared his throat again.

  "Layla," he said, his voice cracking, "because I do love you, I won't fuck you. Because I don't think you're ready for it. Am I right?"

  He was. The hormones were singing and dancing inside me, lighting up fireworks and going to town at a Brazilian carnival. But those were hormones. I needed a break from that shit!

  I nodded tightly.

  "Then let's get something to eat."

  He stood up abruptly. It sent a whiff of his cologne my way.

  I stood automatically as well. It was so fast that my hard nipple grazed against his upper arm.

  I saw the hairs on his bicep stand on end.

  My eyes closed briefly with deep desire.

  Before I knew it, he had me against a wall in his arms. And he breathed oxygen into me.

  -3-

  It was fast and primal. A drug. Two users in withdrawal thinking of nothing but how to get their fix.

  His lips and tongue were heroin. Delicious honey for a starved body.

  His smell was soapy, his hair fresh with the scent of shampoo. Its moist strands tickled my face while the sounds of touching tongues smacked up into this room.

  I felt my legs spreading.

  He pressed against the middle of them with his pelvis and, when he did, I gave a "Mmmmmmm" which came out mostly as a deep groan.

  The drug was making me light-headed and fogging my thinking.

  It was a daemon process, running around in the background without user interaction.

  We couldn't move fast enough. With my lips still locked on his, I started grappling for his belt. He tried for the button of the pants I never took off last night. Our hands got in the way of each other. We kissed some more, as if we knew that the moment we stopped kissing would be the moment we'd realize we should stop all of it.

  My index and thumb hurt from trying to undo his denims button.

  Meanwhile, he got mine open.

  The
circuit-board of my body stopped transmitting for a second as his hand hunted down my pubis, toward my center. When his two masculine fingers thrust high up into me, that circuit-board went into overdrive.

  All system messages were redirected to one area—down low. My mouth stopped functioning, my hands stopped moving, my eyelids stopped responding.

  My legs lost strength.

  He pressed against me so that it hurt a bit on my coccyx but which prevented me from falling. Gravity resulted in an even deeper plunge inwards from him because, as much as he was pushing up, my body was dropping down.

  He speared and dug inside me.

  The long moment of physical and mental paralysis changed to one of renewed strength as waves travelled through me with every jab he made inside me.

  And, all this time...we kissed. Never once stopping.

  More relaxed now, less frenzied because the taste of his meth had eased my withdrawal, my hands got to work.

  I undid his pants finally and pulled down his zip. I pulled down his boxers. When I grabbed his cock and started pumping it, his body mellowed against mine on the wall.

  Meanwhile, I'd found strength again in my legs. He was the one who was weak now. His brow rested on my temple while my hand went to work on him and his own hand pushed and tugged into me.

  I heard him growl, felt him pulse and twitch under my palm as I squeezed him up and down and stretched his skin.

  I felt him move backwards an inch but I pulled him toward me commandingly by his hard-on in my hand.

  He started groaning. My bicep began to burn. All my thoughts were on his shaft, his orgasm, his explosion when—

  It caught me by surprise. It was actually the pain in the back of my head that first let me know I was climaxing, because my back had arched so violently that I'd hit the wall with my head.