He explored her pussy, his fingers rubbing her folds, and she rode his hand, undulating her hips at every advance. No doubt he had skills, his deft thumb flicking her in a mad rhythm, on par with his three fingers sliding in and out of her, claiming her, each time deeper, faster.
Moans fled her lips, and soon ripples of pleasure washed through her, making her shake into his arms. Sweat slicked and freshly fingered, she could barely breathe. “God. This…is…was…”
“I know, baby,” he said, then rested his forehead against hers. But she needed more. She wanted him completely inside her, and quick. What should have ended her thirst for him only enhanced it.
She touched his belt, fumbling to open it. “Do you have a condom?” she asked, giving herself a mental high-five for asking such a critical question when her mind was nothing more than a glorious fog.
“Yes,” he hissed out then fished his wallet from his pocket.
She unbuckled his belt, and while he grabbed the foil packet and tore it open, she slipped her hand into his boxer briefs. Wow. A hot, enormous cock vibrated in her palm, and she licked her lips. How on earth would she fit all that…meaty goodness into her sex? She clutched it, reveling in the velvety skin and thick girth.
He withdrew himself from her to roll on the condom. Her sigh filled the air, those two seconds stretching into eternity. He flashed her a devilish grin, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
She willed that thought away. Screwing this sexilicious man was about having fun, enjoying it, not making demands.
He dipped his head down, and she linked her arms around him. “You’re killing me, but it’s going to be a sweet death.”
“The French call it a small death,” she said, wrapping her legs around his torso.
He kissed her nose, sending all kinds of toe-curling thrills through her. “I’ll make sure it’s a big one for both of us.” Maybe he used the sweet caress as distraction as he positioned his rod at her entrance and slowly rubbed the fat head on her folds.
“Hope you’re not overselling yourself.”
He traced his tongue over her neck, causing a bolt of adrenaline to almost combust in her veins. “Never, cara mia, never.”
She shivered and lifted her eyes to him. She found him grinning, watching her intently. Silently, he asked her if she was ready for more. As a response, she shifted a bit to accommodate his cock. He curled his lips and drove his dick inside her.
At every inch, she made herself a mental note to relax and enjoy. Her walls clung to his flesh, and when he finished entering her, she gasped. An ache stabbed at her. God, he was big. Sweat slicked her forehead and neck. For a few seconds, they remained joined, still, and her pussy produced another coat of her pearly essence as if her body knew she needed to have him.
“You’re big,” she said, doubting he’d never heard it before. Now he was with her, inside her, and she refused to think of him pleasuring any other woman, though, she was sure he had…
“And you’re tight, but we’ll figure it out,” he said, and captured her lips in another long kiss. He nibbled her upper lip and lifted his hand to cup her breast. Soon, her shoulders dropped a notch, and she felt him moving inside her.
She wrapped her legs around him more tightly for support. She loved the sensation of being completely filled by him. With his other hand, he began to touch her hot bundle of nerves. She wished he weren’t so good at it. He worked her clit, his thumb flicking, pinching it without relent. He amped up the rhythm of his thrusts, each time withdrawing his dick faster and fucking her deeper, all the way to the hilt.
He stopped caressing her breast and lifted her left leg, stretching it so her ankle rested on his shoulder. “Fucking hot,” he groaned, and this time when he continued the torturous in-and-out dance, he rammed into a profound place inside her.
She let out a raw moan, her heart about to burst in her ears. Thumps of each beat became louder. She knew she was stretching to the max to accommodate him, their contact airtight. “So. Deep,” she said, barely choking out the words.
“I know, tesoro.” His voice was gruff, haunted, and erotic. She had no idea what his occupation was, but he could definitely moonlight as a sex phone person and make buckets of money from his accent alone. “I’m feeling it, too… I love being inside you.”
He nibbled her lip again, his teeth grazing her flesh. She slipped her fingers into his shirt, feeling his amazing shoulders, the taut muscles tensing under her touch. She bet he looked like an Adonis 2.0 when naked, but right now they were both too turned on to even take off their clothes. She scratched his skin, squeezing him closer. He let out a couple of groans and retaliated, fucking her faster, intensifying that pull and push about to drive her insane.
Her breath came out in bursts, and soon pleasure exploded in her pussy, sending charges of heat through her. She clutched him, coming undone in glorious, long-lasting spasms like nothing she’d ever experienced.
“That’s right,” he said, pumping harder into her, his heavy, full balls slapping her sticky thighs as he claimed her.
She was barely getting over the orgasm when he resumed his sweet torture of her clit, and suddenly, the climax reignited and her body sizzled again. Confused, she embraced him for support, unsure if she was still peaking from last time or if this was a bonus.
“Next time I fuck you, I want to come all over you. On your big tits, deep in your sweet pussy, on your ass, in your mouth. I want to coat you with my cum so there’s no doubt where you belong.”
His dirty words ripped her apart, like she approached a cliff, and they pushed her over the edge. She closed her eyes and fell hard, her body convulsing. She opened her mouth to call out his name, but only managed to choke out a whimper. He growled before releasing himself into her, shivering.
Then he planted a kiss on her forehead, and she blinked. No, this hadn’t been some crazy erotic dream. She had just been freshly fucked by a man who she’d never met before. A man whose name she didn’t know. A walk-in client.
“I have to ask. What brought you to my salon?”
Chapter Two
Marco ran his fingers down his face. The post-climatic haze cleared out of his head as he withdrew from Lily then removed the condom and threw it in the tall, lined trash can. She pulled down her apron and smoothed her hands over it, and he almost wished he could take her again.
In less than two minutes she’d hate him. When he told her he was here to buy her salon, she’d be furious. And even then… Even with that possibility, his body still throbbed and tingled. His mind might catch up with reality, but the most honest part of his hadn’t. Screwing her hadn’t sated his hunger; it only worked as an appetizer for the exquisite banquet he planned to feast on. That he would feast on.
“What?” she asked, sensing his hesitation. She walked to the door and returned to the shop’s interior. “Why did you come here? You don’t need a haircut, do you?” she said, tossing him a glance over her shoulder.
He followed her out of the bathroom. After what they’d shared, she deserved nothing but the truth. “No.” He stalked toward her as she turned around and faced him. “I’ll start with my name. I’m Marco Giordano.”
She tilted her head to the side. “I’m Lily Jenkins. Should I know who you are?”
“Frank Stewart has been in touch with you,” he said, grateful his trusted employee had kept their identity undercover for the time being. He and Nico didn’t like revealing themselves until it was strictly necessary. People could use his family’s wealth as leverage for asking for more money, just because they had it. Using a third party made more sense.
In slow motion, Lily stepped back, the contours of her face hardening. The soft, warm, willing woman he’d just screwed disappeared. Disappointment flickered in her eyes. Marco’s spine locked into place, tension brewing in his gut. “You want me out of the shop?” she asked.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but yeah… Everyone else in the strip mall has agreed to sell their suite.”
&n
bsp; She folded her arms over her chest. “Well, I haven’t.”
“I understand, but you’re behind on paying your bills. Even if we didn’t insist on doing this, you’d have maybe, what? One, two months? Three, tops, until you file for bankruptcy.”
She flattened her lips with a slow shake of her head. “I can’t believe this. You walk in here, hit me with your good looks and devil dick, and expect me to hand you the key to my suite? A place that was passed on to me from my parents?”
“Lily, when I came in here, I didn’t have an evil plan to sleep with you,” he said, for the sake of being proper, even though they technicality hadn’t slept. “I wanted to talk to you about your situation and help you see you’re better off selling your suite to us. We’re offering you well over the market value, and I’m willing to increase the offer.”
“No. I don’t need your charity. You used me,” she said, then erased the distance between them and slapped her palm on his cheek.
Merda. His skin stung a little, but the fact she slapped him awakened a reaction other than pain. His body roared, recognizing her touch even if in a much different way than minutes earlier. Renewed desire charged through him. Lily was passionate, vibrant, downright sexy—and she belonged in his bed.
“I didn’t come in here with the intention of seducing you. I apologize for not making it clear who I was, but who cares? Once we laid eyes on each other, nothing else mattered,” he said, holding her gaze. “If I have a devil dick, you have a heavenly pussy.”
An adorable wave of red spread across her cheeks and neck, a telling fact that she at least agreed with him on their strong pull. “Well, it happened. We’ll have to get over it and move forward.”
“I don’t want to get over it. I want to relive it. To do it again and again.”
She shrugged. “Tough luck.”
Maybe Elizabeth was right. His life would be easier if he didn’t need a contract for everything. The teenage boy in him, the one who took his father to a rehab clinic, disagreed. Contracts, for everything, made his life less complicated. He knew what to expect and what to give—without that structure, he’d be vulnerable to a give-and-take dynamic, and he’d lose. “I have a proposition for you. You have a debt that’s going to suck you dry. Let me take care of it. I’ll pay all your debts and find you another place nearby.”
She stood, hands perched at her waist. “It won’t be my mother’s. I used to come to this same place as a little girl. I once broke my arm running on that sidewalk,” she said, pointing to the window. “I won’t ever have the connection I have to this place somewhere else.”
He curled his fingers into a ball then uncurled them quickly. The sad look on her face made him want to rush to comfort her, but he had to be strong. Sentimentalism had no place in the business world. Another lesson his father had taught him early in life. “No, but it’ll be a more modern setup, in a better neighborhood, in a place that’ll give you more chances to succeed.”
She unfolded her arms and let them fall to her sides. “Why can’t I succeed right here?”
He perched his hands at his waist. A pang of frustration stabbed at him, but he breathed in and out quickly and continued. “Because I need the space to make a garage for the restaurants, shops, and the entertainment area we’re creating. This exact location is perfect. Think about all the jobs we’ll offer to those who need to work.”
“All the jobs? Like you care about the common man? You must be joking. Besides, even if I sell it to you, I won’t be able to afford a place like one of those you mentioned.”
“Yes, you will. I’ll…give you money,” he said, the words escaping his mouth without his permission. Shit. Moments with her and he was already making bad business decisions.
She threw him a skeptical look. “Why would you do that?”
Wheels began to turn rapidly in his brain. If he helped her financially, what could he possibly ask for? He cleared his throat. “Because I want something in return.”
“Ah. Of course. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. What can I possibly offer you?” she asked, unruffled.
What indeed? His lip curled into a smile. She’d be shocked in a second or two, but he needed to finish his proposal. Contracts dictated his life, so why not make a dirty one? “I want your body in my bed. One month. Then I’ll move you to a place where clients will appreciate your talent.” And I’ll never bother you again. Certainly, four weeks would be enough to water down the fire between them.
She lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not a hooker.”
“No, you’re not. You’re a brilliant woman, who’s also very proud. You’re a woman who excites me in a way I haven’t been in a long time. I don’t mean to offend you. Let’s say we’re two regular people who met through mutual friends or at a bar. We date for one month, figure out we’re not a match outside the bedroom. It could happen. What would we get in the end? False hopes and heartbreak at best. What I’m doing is ensuring you’ll get the backup you deserve in this shitty situation, while I get what I need,” he said, remembering the abandonment with which she’d come in his arms. His pulse raced with the image alone. He couldn’t wait to have her come again, several times. He couldn’t wait to savor her over and over.
“You talk like this is a business deal.”
He reached into his inside pocket and grabbed a business card. The dynamics of the boardroom had taught him to keep his poker face. If she knew how much he wanted her to say yes, she’d have the upper hand. “It is. I’ll draw up a contract. Two, in fact. One is a confidentiality agreement, and the other one states you’ll be mine sexually—only mine—and I’ll give you what you want at the end of the month.”
“What you’re offering isn’t what I want.”
He grabbed a pen and added his personal cell phone number to the back of the card. When he stepped forward to give it to her, she jerked away, as if the minimal contact with him would start a chain of events she’d rather crush. “It’s the best offer you can get. I’ll pay all your debts, pay well above market value for your space, and set you up in a coveted location.”
She shot him a mocking smile. “An Italian knight in white and shining armor saving me from harm all because of my heavenly pussy. The stuff Shakespearean poems are made of.”
He suppressed a chuckle, intent on showing how serious he was about his proposal, and put his business card on the shelf. “I’m giving you twenty-four hours to consider my offer. After that, it’s off the table.”
…
“Hi, Mama.” Lily walked into the nursing home’s shared living area. Several folks talked either to each other, or to the TV displaying a daytime talk show. She had wanted to bring her mother flowers, but for the past few weeks she’d been saving however she could.
“Hi, sweetie,” her mother said, and when she stood from the recliner chair, she did so more slowly than usual, her hand resting at her hip.
“Are you okay?” Lily asked. Her mother sure looked younger than her seventy-one years, as Estelle Jenkins had always taken good care of herself. After her husband’s death a year and a half ago, she’d decided to go to a retirement community where she’d still be pretty independent but would have help if needed, especially after a hip replacement surgery and other age-related health concerns.
Estelle waved her off. “I’m fine, honey. I attended a beginner’s ballroom dancing class yesterday and am paying the price now.”
“Mom… Be careful.”
Estelle’s blue eyes sparkled. “I’ve been careful my whole life, dear. Wife of a pastor. Can’t a girl have some fun?” She winked with her trademark wit, and Lily’s heart squeezed in her chest.
She gave her mom a hug that lasted longer than intended, finding comfort in the warmth of her embrace. When she disengaged, Estelle looked at her with concern. “What is it, munchkin?”
Well, munchkin is broke and about to sell her soul to the devil. Lily ran her fingers into her hair, messing up her ponytail. If Marco had meant it, she had just over two
hours to make the decision that could change her life and corrupt every value her father had instilled in her. Maybe she deserved it—if she hadn’t screwed Marco, she wouldn’t know what it was like. The way he touched her and made her feel would be enough reason for her to pay him for a screw—if she could afford it.
“Is it a man? Did my Lily finally meet someone special?” Her mother smiled, and they walked through the Japanese-themed gardens.
“I’m not sure special is the word. I’m not ready to talk about him or anything,” she said, glancing down at the pebbled path.
Estelle chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes. You know, when I met your father, I wasn’t a practicing Christian. I was scared, at first, because he felt so strongly about what he stood for. I didn’t know if I could live up to that.”
“How did you know?”
“I gave it a shot,” Estelle said. “I don’t regret it. Your father gave me everything I needed. By the way, how’s the salon?”
“Oh. It’s doing well.” Lily used the same response she’d given her mom for months. Her heart burned with regret every time she’d said it, but she refused to say anything else until she clawed her way out of the mess she was in. She’d seen how selling her family’s assets had devastated Estelle, and she’d promised her mom—and herself—after Dad’s funeral, she’d do whatever she could to always keep the salon. That part of their past wouldn’t, couldn’t, be destroyed.
“Maybe one of these days you can take me back for a day trip,” Estelle said. Once a month in the past year, Lily had summoned Estelle’s clients from back in the day and brought her mom for a fun “girl’s day” at the salon she’d called home for decades.
“Yes, we’ll arrange something.” Fear churned in her stomach. In less than two years, her mother had lost her husband, battled breast cancer, then endured a hip replacement surgery. She’d left their house and moved into the retirement home. She’d lost so much, yet kept positive, in high spirits—no doubt always looking forward to those days when she visited her old stomping grounds and remembered the occupation she dearly loved. What if she had to give that up, too?
Good Girl Gone Bad Page 2