“Please do.” She bites her lips and relaxes into me more.
I’m harder than a rock in a second, because the fabric of her tiny panties are soaked, and she moans when I stroke my finger across her clit. From a distance, anyone looking at us would see just a couple close together. They wouldn’t notice the way Justine’s fingers are digging into my arms in desperation, or the way her lips part and cheeks flush with arousal.
I slip past the fabric of her panties with a groan. “You’re soaking wet.”
“I can’t help it,” she says. “It seems to be my default state around you.”
“Just thinking about you makes me hard, Justine. I’m desperate for you. I can’t explain it.” I move my finger deeper, seeking her entrance and watching her chest rise and fall faster with excitement.
Justine shakes her head. “I shouldn’t want you.”
“Are you admitting that you do?” I ask with a smirk.
She groans as I slip inside her. “I think my pussy did that for me.”
“Yes, it did.”
I close the gap between us, letting my mouth fall on hers, and we fall into each other again. The same way that we did earlier today. It feels dangerous and inevitable. And we need to get out of here before I bend her over the railing.
“My apartment is close,” I whisper against her lips.
“Is it the penthouse?”
I laugh. “Yes it is.”
She laughs too, but it’s breathy and low. “I fucking knew it.”
I help her rearrange her dress before pulling her down the sidewalk with me. We have to get there, and she feels the same. I don’t even say hello to the doorman on the way in because we’re moving so quickly. Scanning my card in the elevator, the doors aren’t even closed before my lips are on hers again. When I scan my keycard, the elevator makes no stops, so I’m pulling the dress off her shoulders even before the doors open again.
The polite part of me thinks I should give her a tour of the place. But the feral part of me knows that we don’t have that kind of time. Her dress hits the floor in the lobby along with her purse and shoes. I pull away long enough to take in the matching bra and panties she’s wearing—all black lace against her creamy skin. Oh, fuck.
I scoop her into my arms and stride down the hallway to my bedroom. The room is dim with the last remaining light glowing in the windows, and I lay her out on the bed so she’s spread before me like a feast. “I wasn’t joking,” I said. “You are my dessert.”
Hooking my fingers into the elastic of her panties, I draw them down her legs and toss them aside. Then I’m pushing her legs apart and taking my fill. Justine moans as I lick into her, already shaking.
She tastes rich and sweet. Perfect.
I push her thighs wider so she’s spread open, and I see her grasp the comforter in tight fists. Her pussy is gorgeous, that perfect pink that matches her nipples, glistening in the fading light. I seal my mouth over her clit, sucking deep as I tease her from underneath, listening to the shake in her breath and feeling the growing tension in her legs.
“Tell me what you like,” I say, whispering the words into her skin. There’s nothing that I want more than to make her moan my name. I swirl my tongue over her clit before diving down and dipping into her entrance. Justine arches underneath me. “Tell me.”
“I can’t think,” she says, more breath than words.
I crawl up her body until we’re face to face and kiss her hard, letting her taste herself on my tongue. The way I’m laying now, my cock is pressed up against her spread legs. So close, and so far.
“Do you want me to suck your clit until you scream?”
“Yes.”
I move my mouth to her neck and shoulder, pushing the strap of her bra off with my teeth. “Do you want me to fuck you with my tongue?”
“Fuck,” she mutters as I sink down her body again.
“I can tease you until you’re begging me,” I say, peppering the skin around her belly button with soft kisses. “And then tell you no.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she says, looking down at me.
“Wouldn’t I? We could find out.”
She smirks down at me. “You still think you can boss me around?”
“I think I can make you feel good enough that you won’t care who’s calling the shots. You’ll just want to come.”
I graze my teeth against her inner thigh, thoroughly enjoying the shudder that passes through her. I know exactly what to do now. And I take my time. I slowly lick her thighs and move closer, pressing kisses and licks to the creases of her legs. On her mound. Everywhere but where she wants me to be. Completely random so she never knows where I’m going to touch her next. I love it. She doesn’t.
“Fuck, you’re going to kill me,” she says.
“We can’t have that,” I mutter, barely brushing my lips across her clit.
“Oh,” she makes the sound before biting her lip, not wanting to show me how much she wants it. Even now we’re in that battle—the one that makes me want to push her buttons more. Further. The one that drives the spark between us.
I go back to teasing before I lick her once. So softly, but her legs contract at the feeling and I push them wide again. Slowly I build up the way I’m touching her. Kissing and licking and sucking every part of her, harder and harder until I cover her in one long stroke of my tongue, and she breaks, shaking and groaning, more of that pure flavor flooding my mouth.
Once isn’t enough. Not nearly. I plunge my tongue deep inside her, fucking her as the orgasm runs through and straight into another one. Justine cries out, her voice echoing off my walls, arching into my tongue.
Fuck, I’ll never have enough. I need more. Right now.
I strip off my clothes and grab a condom before rejoining her on the bed. She’s still lost in the aftermath of her orgasm, and already reaching for me. I pull her in to a kiss before turning her over and slamming into her from behind.
Perfect heat and epic pleasure. It’s just as explosive as the first time we came together. I can’t breathe. Just moving on instinct, I drive in to the hilt over and over. I can’t hold myself back, and I don’t try to.
“Fuck, yes,” Justine cries out, and I let myself go.
I fuck with a frenzy, letting lighting build in my spine until it breaks, the release completely blinding me. My own voice echoes as I finish, and we collapse together, breathless and spent.
She laughs softly, turning toward me as I slip away to dispose of the condom before coming back. “That was a pretty good dessert.”
“Better than the ones at Lena’s?”
“I don’t know about that, but easily just as good.”
She’s smirking and I drag her to me so I can kiss her. “I guess I’ll just have to work harder next time.”
“Maybe,” she says, resting her head on my chest. “But before that, I might need some actual dessert.”
9
Justine
The faint chime wakes me with a start. My phone. Chiming from where I left it. Where did I leave it? I focus. I’m not in my bed. Where the hell am I?
The sun is just rising through the windows and I look over to the handsome, peaceful, sleeping face of Keenan. I’m in Keenan’s bed.
He looks even more perfect in sleep, totally relaxed and unaware of his own beauty. I hadn’t intended to stay all night. But he fed me chocolate for dessert and then we had more amazing sex. Slower the next time, but no less passionate.
The chemistry between us is indescribable. It sings like a living thing between us. Why did I wake up? Oh right. My phone. Where I left it in my purse which is on the floor along with the rest of my clothes.
Slowly, I creep out of the bed. It’s a little chilly, but nothing unbearable. I find my purse and dress and shoes scattered across the foyer. It’s a total cliché. I grab everything and bring it back to the bedroom before creeping under the covers again. It’s five a.m. I have to wake up soon anyway for an early client, but I’m tired enoug
h that I want to hit snooze a little bit.
The text is from Lila. I told her that I was going on a date last night, and there are a bunch of texts from her asking where I am and if I’m okay. The last one is the one that woke me.
Got up to use the bathroom and saw you still hadn’t texted. Please just let me know that you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere.
I smile and text her back. Hey, sorry. Very much not dead. It was a good date. I pause and look over at Keenan. A very good date.
That’s a fucking understatement.
I don’t expect her to answer right now, not when it’s this early. For a few minutes I let myself rest with my eyes closed until the sunrise outside is bright enough that I can’t ignore it and I need to make sure that I have enough time to get home and change before I go and visit Harold. My early bird client that prefers his visits to be absolutely first thing in the morning.
Last night I used Keenan’s bathroom, and I know that it’s huge, and has one of the most luxurious showers that I’ve ever seen. I don’t think that he’ll mind too much if I use it. At least I hope not.
The shower is clean white marble, spacious with those heads that spray water from all angles. It’s like being caught in a storm of water in absolutely the best way.
Keenan made a joke about this shower last night in the middle of him delivering yet another ridiculous orgasm. Fuck, he was good. We were good together. Even after all that, I want more of him, and I feel myself growing wet. I don’t have time to wait for him to wake up, as much as I want to, but my hand creeps between my legs, seeking quick pleasure that won’t be nearly as satisfying. I’m slick enough that it’s easy, and it won’t take long.
A hand snakes around my waist and I nearly scream before I realize that it’s Keenan behind me. Every inch of his lean length, cock pressing against my ass. One arm locks across my chest, holding me to him while the other replaces mine. “If you wanted more,” he says low in my ear, “I would have said yes.”
“I know.”
Keenan doesn’t let me move away, instead he keeps me pinned to his body, and teasing me. His lips graze my neck, and he finds a rhythm with his fingers that makes me tense. Pleasure rises, sure and sweet and fast. He’s relentless, using everything he learned about my body to drag the orgasm from me.
It’s not explosive. It rolls in like the tide. Smooth and inevitable, covering my whole body with bliss before fading away and leaving me gasping under the stream.
Keenan doesn’t stop there, helping me wash, running soap over my body before lathering my hair. There are few things in life that rival one’s hair being washed. It gives me chills. I could live for this kind of luxury, and I immediately stop the thought in its tracks.
Even though this has been amazing, Keenan and I are still from two different worlds, and still stand for very different things.
Keenan hands me a towel when we step out of the shower and pulls me in for a kiss when I wrap myself in it. It’s comfortingly domestic. Not necessarily in a bad way. “I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up,” I tell him. “Believe me, I would love nothing more than to play hooky with you. Stay in bed and have sex all day. But I have an early client.”
He smiles at me. This isn’t a smirk or anything meant to rile me up. It’s just a smile. “It’s okay. I know that I’ll see you soon.”
Yesterday I might have been upset by that assumption. But now it feels right. I will see him again. The thing between us is too real to be denied. “Thanks, though I’m sorry I can’t stay and…help.” I glance down at his erection.
Keenan chuckles. “I’ll survive, don’t worry, but I might step back into the shower.”
I bite my lip. “Okay.”
“I’ll text you later,” he says, stepping back into the spray.
I watch him for a moment, and he looks at me as his hand starts to move, and I blow him a kiss before leaving. I need to leave before I drop the damn towel and call in sick. I quickly dress. I’m going to need to move fast to get back to my car and apartment and change, but I do make it.
I’m right on time pulling up to our offices. Sometimes I do the actual grocery shopping, but for the most part—especially for clients like Harold who are early in the morning—the shopping is taken care of by someone else and I just pick up the groceries before heading over.
But when I walk inside, it’s not the normal happy atmosphere that I’m used to experiencing in the morning. Everyone looks a little somber.
“What’s going on?”
Morgan, my supervisor, looks at me. “We got word that 120 Asher is going to be demolished in two weeks.”
That’s Harold’s building. “What?”
“Yeah, we had no idea. The permits came through yesterday I guess, and some developer is going ahead with a project that will get rid of the building and the park behind it. I guess the residents are going to be compensated.”
“Holy shit.” Dread pools in my stomach. The building where Harold lives is pretty old, and it houses more than a few clients. Compensation for being displaced is great, but a lot of these people have owned their apartments for many years. The check they’re likely to get probably won’t cover the absurd cost of a new place to live or a nursing home.
The park behind the house provides much needed exercise and fresh air for a lot of people living in that building. Yeah, the building is a little run down, but it’s not something that needs to be demolished.
“Yeah,” Morgan says. “We’re going to see what we can do but it came out of nowhere. You were already planning to help us with the downtown demonstration, right?”
“Yeah, of course.”
That one was the one that I had mentioned to Rose. Gathering signatures from people to make sure some downtown green space was preserved and not sold off to make more high-rise buildings.
“Well that’s been pushed aside for this,” she says. “This is way more urgent.”
I nod. “I’ll do whatever you need me to.”
“For now, just see your clients. I’ve got to try to get hold of people on the city council. And after that we’ll see what we can do about organizing. And if the worst of it does happen, we’re going to need people to help find new placements.”
Fuck. This really is bad. If developers are going after older buildings, it’s only a matter of time before all of our clients are hit. I can see someone easily trying to justify demolishing Rose’s building. I can think of a bunch of them that could be targeted for this.
I grab the first of Harold’s groceries and start to move them out to my car. This is ridiculous. What kind of asshole would want to displace a bunch of people? Especially seniors with nowhere else to go?
My stomach curls in fear. “Morgan, which company is doing the demolishing?” Please don’t be him. Please be literally anybody but him. If there’s any good in this universe, it will give me this small favor.
“Silverman & Blake,” she says.
The bag slips from my hands and crashes to the floor, spilling cans of soup that go rolling. “Shit,” I say, scrambling to pick them up before they go everywhere.
Morgan is by my side in a second. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “It just slipped.”
But that’s a lie. I’m very much not okay. Not after hearing that. Not after knowing that I slept with someone who could be this callous. Not just slept with him, but let him in. Thought about the possibility of continuing on a path with him.
My heart and body both still want that, and the news that he could do this makes me ache. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he doesn’t know who lives there.
Or maybe he does, and he’s exactly who I thought he was all along.
What do I do now?
10
Keenan
Today has been a fucking amazing day. From waking up with Justine to that moment in the shower and how hard I came after, to the seeming wave of sunshine that I’ve been riding ever since. Everything seems a little bit brighter and easier.
I sent Justine a text just before noon asking her if she once again wanted to have dinner. No response yet, but I have high hopes. Especially after that smile that she gave me this morning.
Justine isn’t like anyone that I’ve ever met, and deep down I know that it’s more than just a simple attraction. There’s something between us, and now that we’ve connected, I’m determined to see it through one way or another.
I check the time. I suppose it’s okay to text her again. It’s been a couple of hours.
Hey. I’ve been thinking of you.
She’s probably working, so I don’t worry when she doesn’t respond right away. I just start to lose myself in my work again. We’re planning a new expansive development to the north, and it’s really exciting. Open land provides far more ground-up possibilities than the lots in the city usually provide. So we’re designing an all-inclusive community. Everything from student living for the local college to restaurants and a coworking space alongside the housing.
It’s honestly the most excited that I’ve been about a project in a long time. Doing this, it can be a little boring sometimes. The same forms and papers and steps and approvals over and over again. It can be monotonous, even if the end product is usually rewarding.
I lose myself in my work so thoroughly that the next time I look up it’s the end of the workday, and there’s still been no response from Justine. Anxiety suddenly bubbles in my gut. After the close call of the accident yesterday, that’s where my thoughts go. Is she all right?
I type out another text to her. Miraculously, because of my mood, I’ve gotten through all the work I absolutely have to do today. And if she wanted to join me out or at home, that would be wonderful.
I’m heading home. I’d love to see you, if you’re free.
I walk the short distance home—as I do most days. Justine would probably laugh and tell me that she would expect me to be driving some absurd luxury car. And I have the cars. Several of them. But Portland is a beautiful city, and especially in the summer I prefer to walk.
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