Guilty as Charged

by Harlow James

  “Pretty much. Like I said at Home Depot, the place is my sister’s and her husband’s, but I’m renovating it for them.”

  “I love the dark blue walls.” Her hand reaches out to touch them before she glances down to her feet. “And the dark hardwood. Did you make the design choices?”

  I nod. “Yup. I picked out the tile too.” I tease as she smirks across the room at me.

  “I vaguely remember that I found the tile you purchased.”

  “Well, I was going to pick that one out anyway.”

  “I see.” She moves into the kitchen and then finds the concrete floors beneath her heels. “I was about to kick off my shoes, but I don’t want to walk on concrete. You definitely need to get cracking on installing that tile, Javi.”

  “Well, how about you sit up on the counter then.” I pat the granite that I installed last week. She eyes me skeptically before fully entering the kitchen and hopping up on the flat surface. Her heels comes flying off as she arches her feet and lets out a groan that awakens my dick. He was half-awake just watching her walk around my place, but after that noise, he’s fully aware and raring to go.

  “Would you like some water?” I open the fridge and take out two water bottles, handing one to her without waiting for an answer.

  “Thank you.” We both take a drink, stewing in the awkward silence. I’m not sure what to say to her. But the way she looks perched on my countertops makes me envision multiple ways that the evening could go. I’m a guy and that’s the first place my mind veers instead of focusing on why the woman is in my house to begin with.

  “So, are you going to show me how to lay some tile, or what, Javi?” There’s a challenge in her voice that has my heart beating wildly in my chest.

  “You’re not exactly dressed to do dirty work, Princess.” My eyes travel down her body, appreciating every curve and stretch of bare skin I can see.

  Sydney looks phenomenal in workout gear, but seeing her dressed professionally does something to my libido that I’ve never experienced before. Scenarios of bending her over and hiking up her skirt play through my mind quicker than I can push them out. I turn around to adjust myself before she speaks so softly, I almost miss what she says.

  “We don’t have to do that then,” she mutters and my neck coils in her direction again, catching a glimpse of her looking across the room at me.

  The confident little vixen from before has diminished slightly, revealing a timidness in her eyes that wasn’t there before. This woman sitting high up on the counter is sparking a curiosity within me that I know I should ignore. I shouldn’t push to see what she suggests we do instead. I should just let her go, encourage her to leave, and go back to the way things were.

  But the other part of me, the needy man I’ve been stifling for months is begging to see if the way she’s eating me up with her eyes means she wants me as badly as I want her. It’s the first time I’ve admitted it to myself, but I’m beginning to think that I’m not the only one coming to that realization.

  I stalk across the space, landing in front of her as she uncrosses her legs and invites me between them. My body moves willingly as the heels of her feet dig into my ass and her arms move up from the counter and toward her neck.

  “What is it that you want, Sydney? Why are you really here?” If what I think is going through her mind is true, I want to hear her say it out loud.

  My heart lodges itself in my throat as I watch her hands slowly trail up her chest, landing on the buttons of her white, silk blouse as her fingers deftly pop the first button open. A prick of awareness shoots up my spine while my eyes find her aqua ones and there’s a heat mixed with fear in those bright blue orbs, studying me as her fingers release the next button.

  “I want …” she trembles before clearing her throat, channeling more resolve, and then speaking stronger, commanding me with her voice and body. “I want you to show me what it’s like for someone to make decisions for me that don’t result in frustration or anger. I want you to show me what it’s like to be pleasured, wound tight within an inch of my sanity until I’m begging for you to let me come.” She takes a deep breath of courage and then continues. “I don’t want to think about what comes next, whose expectations I have to live up to … I just want to let go. Be owned. Can you do that? Can you show me what it’s like to be with someone like you?”

  I arch my brow while the speed of my heart increases three times the normal rate. Sydney Matthews is basically commanding me to fuck her and I’m speechless. Never in a million years did I ever think I’d be in this position.

  “Someone like me?” I question, wondering exactly what she means by that as my hands move from the counter to her hips.

  How does she see me? Does she look at me the same way I look at myself? Like a man with a past, a boy inside that never felt good enough, that vowed to protect my family at all costs, a vow that haunted me in prison? Does Sydney know about my past? Does she look at me like I am just someone to pass the time with? Or is she looking for more than that?

  What are her intentions here?

  “Yeah. A bad boy. A man that knows how to fuck. A man that I shouldn’t want, but do.”

  Fuck if those words didn’t give me goosebumps and send blood rushing full force to my dick. It seems to me that Sydney Matthews needs someone to fuck her into submission. And I can’t deny that I want to be the man for the job, despite this inkling in my gut that tells me this couldn’t possibly end the way I want it to.

  It’s been six months since I’ve felt a woman wrapped around me, since I’ve felt the soft and silky skin of the female form that could easily become an addiction.

  And the more I stare at Sydney, the more of her delicate, white flesh she exposes to me as she splits the row of buttons on her blouse and pulls the fabric apart, the more I realize that I could easily become addicted to her—like a drug that only one hit of could send you into a downward spiral.

  “You want me to fuck you, Princess?”

  She pauses in her movements and juts her chin out. “I’m not a princess, and I don’t want you to think of me that way, Javi. You may think you know me as someone from your past, but I’m not that girl anymore, and something tells me you’re not the same boy from all those years ago either. So let’s not be them. Let’s be two consenting adults with so much sexual tension burning between them that the only way to release it is to smother it with so much hot sex, we’re left a sweaty mess afterwards.”

  Seems Sydney knows when to relinquish eloquence in her words and simply ask for what she wants. The question is, do I want to give it to her?

  ***

  Sydney

  Javier’s eyes penetrate me as I slowly pull the fabric of my shirt apart, revealing my satin demi-bra beneath. It’s not the sexiest thing I own, but there’s no contemplating that detail now.

  As I was following Javier to his house just moments ago, something within me snapped. Maybe it was the pressure this evening from Andrew and my father to give him a chance. Maybe it was the hellish day I had at work, or hellish week really.

  Or maybe for once in my life, I just wanted to give in to temptation, ask for someone to fulfill the desires that flood my mind at night. And the more I thought about it, the more I drew on every interaction between us, the more my mind was made up.

  Javier was the man for the job, and I wasn’t about to walk out of his house without at least putting myself out there.

  Now his golden eyes are searing across my skin, his hands digging into the flesh at my waist, and his body is so tense, I’m afraid he might snap like a rubber band. My body is shaking as I wait for him to acknowledge that I’m basically stripping in front of him and asking him to fuck me. It was a risk, but I’m hoping he won’t ask me to leave. The last thing I want is to drive home with my tail tucked between my legs from being turned down by the first man I’ve felt brazen enough to tell what I want.

  “I didn’t hear your answer, Sydney. I asked if you wanted me to fuck you?” Hi
s voice is cracking as I feel like his resolve is crumbling.

  So I nod, and then confirm with my words so there’s no doubt. “Yes. I want you to fuck me, Javi.”

  He tilts his head to the side, watching me as I fight my nerves. “I’m not programmed for more, Sydney. If you want sex, I can offer you that. But nothing more.”

  I’m not going to acknowledge the twinge of disappoint that forms in my gut with those words because in all honesty, what I truly need from him right now is just sex. Even though the more I get to know this man, the more I want to know all about him—who he was back in high school, who he is now, why he walks around and keeps everyone at a distance. But for right now, I’ll take what I can get.

  “Understood.” I bob my head up and down as Javier’s hands climb up my arms and push my shirt off of my shoulders. I move my arms out of the sleeves and then toss the fabric to the ground somewhere below us. The tension crackling between our bodies is enough to ignite a stick of dynamite, but I’m waiting to see where he takes this.

  “Good. Now let me show you how a bad boy likes to fuck.”

  An incomprehensible sound comes out of my mouth as I salivate for his touch.

  “You want to be told what to do, Princess?” he asks, as he trails his fingers up and down my arms and then across my collarbone, as if he’s committing a map of my body to memory through his touch.

  “Yes.” I sigh as my head falls back and I soak up the heat that lingers on every inch of skin he caresses.

  “You want me to be rough?”

  “God, yes. I want whatever you give me, Javi. I want you to tie me up, fuck me hard and fast, and make me scream. I want you to deliver on the words you told me in Home Depot.” I’m writhing as his fingers dip down into the cup of my bra and he pulls the fabric down, revealing my hardened nipples.

  “Fuck,” he mumbles lowly, but I catch it. And then with a snap of his fingers, my bra is unclasped from the front and my breasts are completely exposed to him.

  “I hope you’re sure you can handle this, Princess, because once I start, I’m not stopping.”

  “Don’t you dare stop,” I exhale, craning my neck forward again to watch him hover over my chest. His eyes pop up to mine just as he darts out his tongue and licks the tip of my nipple, hardening it to a sharp peak. I’m so fucking turned on right now, I could probably come just from him doing that a few more times.

  “I’m the one in control. Now, stop talking and let me do what I do best.” His lips move across the skin of my breasts, teasing every inch around my nipples but never landing on those peaks again. My breaths are a struggle as every touch ignites my need for this man even more.

  When did this out-of-body craving for him develop? How did I not see this freight train of need coming as it’s hitting me? Because the more his calloused fingers run across the skin of my stomach and his lips tease my collarbone, the more I realize that I’ve never felt this buzz from a man’s touch before.

  And as that realization hits me, his mouth finally closes over my nipple again, causing my entire torso to arch back and revel in the sensation of his hot and wet mouth.

  “Pinch your other nipple,” he commands before returning to his work—licking, sucking, and biting my right nipple with ferocity.

  A spark of lust hits my chest from his command, turning me on even more. That’s exactly what I wanted, for him to tell me what to do, to not have to make decisions on my own, especially when it comes to my pleasure. And it seems that Javier is an expert in that arena.

  I find my left nipple frantically and pinch, rolling the nub between my fingers as his mouth continues to work the other one as I let out a low moan. Then one of his hands slowly snakes up the inside of my thigh and my breath catches in my throat.

  “Move your hand,” he says, swatting mine away as he latches on to my left breast now and his other hand moves higher between my legs, his finger scraping against the drenched fabric of my thong.

  I’m barely breathing at this point and all he’s done is suck on my breasts. I don’t know if I’ll be able to remain conscious if we ever make it to sex because I’m struggling to take in air so badly right now.

  His head pops up and our eyes lock as Javi retracts both of his hands from my body, a wave of sadness washing over me from the loss of his touch. But then he reaches up to his head, flicks off his hat, and then pulls on the neck of his shirt, lifting the cotton up his body until it passes over his head and reveals the chiseled chest to me that I’ve been dying to see. And lord, was it worth the wait.

  Mountains and valleys of muscle grace my eyesight as I study his pecs and the ripples of his abs. The man clearly takes care of himself and it shows. And that skin, the bronze flesh that is such a contrast to my own, calls out to me as saliva pools in my mouth. I have a sudden need to lick every crevice on his body, but I guess that can wait.

  “Lift up your ass.” His hands move to my skirt as he pushes the fabric up my waist until it pools at my hips, leaving me sitting on the cold granite in nothing but my thong. And it’s at that moment I’m so very grateful I just got waxed.

  Javier eyes the scrap of white satin covering the apex of my thighs and then flicks his eyes up to me. “I hope you’re not fond of these,” he says, and before I can answer, his hands grip the strings at my hips and rip the fabric apart. He pulls the flimsy remains of my thong from my body and holds it up in the air while maintaining eye contact with me. Then he brings it to his nose, inhales deeply, and stuffs them in his pocket.

  Holy fuck.

  “Damn, you smell good. I bet you taste even better.”

  I gulp down the inadequacy I feel in my throat as Javier lowers himself to the ground between my legs and pushes my thighs open. I can’t recall the last time a man went down on me. Even my last boyfriend only did it a handful of times.

  But as I watch Javier lick his lips and then nudge forward, I have a feeling it won’t even compare to what I’m about to feel.

  “Spread your legs wider, Princess.” His palms press me open and lift my feet to rest on the counter, and then his hands move around, grip my ass, and pull me closer to the edge of the surface. “I can’t wait to devour this pussy,” he growls before he dives in and steals the oxygen from my lungs with the first swipe of his tongue across my flesh.

  “Holy shit!” I yell before lying back on the granite while trying to concentrate on everything Javier is doing between my legs. His tongue has a mind of its own, moving so meticulously across my slit while flicking my clit, that I can barely follow or track what he’s going to do next.

  I close my eyes and remind myself to breathe, gasping each time his mouth closes over my clit and sucks the nub between his lips. On instinct, my hands reach for his head, gripping the soft strands of his hair as my entire body tightens. He’s working me over like it’s his job and a part of me wonders if he applies that same work ethic in every aspect of his life.

  The loss of his tongue on my sensitive flesh alerts me that he’s moving, so I open my eyes and bend my head up to assess what’s happening. But Javier’s eyes are still locked between my legs as I feel his hand now move along my slit.

  “Do you trust me to give you pleasure, Sydney? To know what you need, even if it’s something you’ve never done before?”

  “What … what do you mean?”

  His gaze lifts to meet mine as he licks his lips. “Has anyone ever played with your ass before?”

  I shake my head, even though that’s something I’ve always been curious about.

  “Can I? I know you’re not ready for my cock, but I want to show you how good that can be …”

  “Okay …”

  “Trust me, Princess. You’ll wonder what you’ve been missing out on once you come with a finger in your ass.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before licking his fingers and plunging two inside me, the force causing my body to coil in response.

  The slide of his fingers through my wetness starts to build an orgasm
within me in seconds, especially once his tongue finds my clit again.

  I track his movements, wondering when he’s going to cross the boundary that I’ve never played with before, keeping me on edge as I anticipate it.

  I never thought I’d let a man have this much control over my body before, but the way Javier is owning me right now, I question why I’ve waited.

  Maybe I’ve been waiting for him.

  Suddenly, I feel a slight pressure between my cheeks right below my pussy as one of Javier’s fingers starts to press against my other hole.

  “Relax, Princess. Don’t fight it.” Using small pulses, he pushes past the barrier and enters me so now three of his fingers are working in and out of me at the same time in two different places.

  And I’m trembling from how good it feels.

  “Oh, God,” I mewl as his tongue returns to my clit and he works me over, higher, and higher until the pressure is so strong, I break and fall over the edge. Javier never lets up, licking me and fingering me faster through my climax until he senses I’m coming back down to earth.

  I’m lying limber on the counter, willing my heart to slow down before Javier’s voice brings me back to reality.

  “Stand up,” he demands, and it takes me a few moments to realize that he’s already done the same. I was in such a heady post-orgasmic state that I never sensed that he moved.

  Sliding down the granite until my toes touch the ground, I glance up at him and see an animalistic need in his eyes, like he’s about to break free from his cage and devour me.

  “Take your skirt off.” As I look down, I realize my bra was still around my arms and my skirt is pushed up past my belly button, so I do as I’m told and remove them both, loving how free I feel right now having someone else tell me what to do.

  Javier pops the button on his pants, shoving them down his legs along with his underwear, granting me a full frontal view of his beautiful, ink-covered body as he stands back up, and a cock that makes all of my other lovers look like chumps.