by JD Hawkins
“Now I really want you…” I say, the words seeming to come from a part of me that I never knew existed before.
I put my fist to my mouth to stifle another giggle, and then keep it there when he puts more ice in his mouth and traces his cold lips from my toe to my ankle. A tender, rolling sensation that makes me press my other hand to my pussy. The cubes against my back still making me squirm, pulling me between the heat of my sex and the chilliness of my skin.
His cold kiss moves up to my knee, so slow it’s as much torture as it is bliss. I shudder and shake, losing myself again. Squeezing my breasts, pulling my own hair, nails trailing across my stomach.
When the ice, his lips, draw slowly up my inner thigh I start to beg.
“Oh God… Yes… Don’t… Don’t stop… Please…”
The pleas come out as low whimpers, and when his lips go excruciatingly close to my pussy I let out a squeal and press my face to the side, against the couch, stifling a low moan there. I grasp for him when he reaches my navel, pulling his hair, grabbing his back and pulling him up higher on top of me, against me, inside me.
He draws his face up over mine, drops the last of the ice cube into my mouth and it tastes so sweet I feel it go all the way down my body. When I open my eyes, his are so close I can look at nothing else. Green circles, flecked with black, the eyes of an animal, set in the flawless face of this man. Our eyes locked, I feel his cold breath over my sweating skin, see the smallest tension in his hard expression. The head of his cock presses against my wet lips and I let out a groan.
“Please, I need you… Give it to me…”
He pushes into me slowly, but every millimeter feels like a mile. I’m wet from head to toe with sweat and ice, back arching and flexing as he opens me up. I groan from the back of my throat, hook my arms over his head, feel my weakness against his muscles. More and more he pushes me open, filling me up.
I let out a gasp, feeling like I can’t possibly take more, that he can’t possibly have more, and yet more comes. My legs high around his sides, squeezing during the sporadic moments I have control over my body. The head of his cock deep inside me, that knot being tugged again. I open my eyes for a second and see his eyes glazed over with lust.
“You like that?” he asks.
Nodding, I whimper, “More… More… Oh God…”
“I’ll give you more, Mia. Every last fucking inch.”
“Yes…”
He runs his cool tongue over my breast as he pushes his cock further, finishing in a bite against my neck, pulling my quivering skin in his teeth. I grip his face and press my tongue against his ear, biting his lobe. His cock fills me, opens me, pulls me. His tongue draws fire across my other breast. He smacks it, the pain only a different kind of pleasure now. His bite, his cock, his lunging back, his squeezing biceps—all these joys overwhelm my body and soul, my mind long gone—until I’m in the sweetest oblivion.
Cock pounding deeper and deeper, my body moving without thought now, pulling him in, pressing him back, even though I feel like I might lose my mind to this and never get it back. He’s going to fuck me crazy.
I don’t even see the edge coming. It happens so fast, it’s like a car crash. I don’t even realize I’m screaming. My fingernails in the lines of his back. His tongue against mine. My thighs squeezing him inside further. His hand pinching my nipple. And then he pulls his cock back, one last time, the absence of it almost painful, my pussy widening over the head, and then thrusts one last time, hitting so deep my breath catches in my throat and every single muscle in my body tightens one last time.
It feels like something’s breaking inside of me. It feels like a lifetime of tension exploding. The knot finally broken apart, bliss radiating through every fiber of my being, every electrified pore of my skin. As the second orgasm washes over me, I let out a quavering, low moan. I clasp his shoulders tight, feeling the heat of his own come through the condom, the tight squeeze of my pussy bringing him to where I am—in absolute rapture.
The pulses seem to last forever—and still not long enough—before giving way to smaller ripples. A vibrating, cool contentment that wraps around me like the tightest blanket. Every breath I take still making my body tingle, every exhalation making me melt a little more. In the daze of the afterglow I don’t even notice Colin taking off the condom and going to the bathroom. Not until he comes back and kneels beside where I’m sprawled on the couch, pushing my damp hair away from my face, and plants a soft kiss on my shoulder.
I open my eyes and smile, the sight of his body still pleasing to the eye even after I’ve had the best of it. I murmur a soft chuckle.
“I should get going,” he says softly.
I nod. He stands and puts on his pants, his shoes, then grabs his shirt and coat.
“Wait,” I say, as he’s heading for the door.
I sit up myself, and for some stupid reason cover my breasts, as if only just aware of my nakedness, as if it’s suddenly an issue, then I pull my hand away. Suddenly I feel a little cold, and this time it isn’t that sexy.
He stops and turns, looking so casual that he makes me feel a little embarrassed for even wanting to say what I want to say.
“Um… What happened here… It… Uh…”
Colin steps back toward me and squats to meet my eyes. “It was just a one-time thing,” he says. “You don’t have to worry about me getting weird on you or anything.”
I breathe a deep sigh and laugh a little with relief. “Right. Yeah. Good.”
His expression goes a little tender, then he looks down bashfully before returning my gaze. “Honestly, I’m kinda glad it happened though,” he says, his tone like I’m an old friend. “You’re…” His eyes scan my body a little, the glint in them finishing the sentence for him. “Incredible. I could hardly concentrate with you around. Glad I got it out of my system.”
I look bashfully away and shake my head before looking back at him. “Yeah. Me too,” I say, smiling at him like we’re sharing a joke. “I’m not the type to… I mean…”
“I get it. You’re a professional woman. Your focus is your work. And you don’t want anything to get in the way of that.”
“Exactly,” I say, relieved. Did he just read my mind or something? “I just… I guess I’ve needed to blow off some steam for a while, you know?”
“We all do. Don’t worry. Believe me, I’ve got my own reasons for wanting things to be professional between us. Once I’m out that door,” he says, pointing, “I won’t speak a word about what happened. Not even to you. As far as I’m concerned, I walked you home, you gave my jacket back, and that was the end of the night.”
“Okay… Good,” I say, very much enjoying the clear rules. I point at the door. “That door. Once you go through it…” I whip my hand across my face. “Whoosh.”
Colin repeats the gesture, repeats the “whoosh,” then stands up and leaves, casting one last amused look at me before he leaves. I let my body crash back onto the couch, and start to think about how the hell I’m going to clean up the mess we just made.
9
Colin
I wake up feeling rough. The good kind of rough. Rough like I just went twelve rounds in a tough fight and won. Rough like I just spent time in the wild. Rough like I just had a good time. I’ve got a bad headache, the alarm that woke me felt like being hit with a blunt object, but there’s a satisfying, spent looseness in my muscles—and the sting of a few scratches on my back reminds me of why I feel this good so early in the morning.
As I climb out of the sheets and blink myself fully awake, memories of the night before flash behind my eyes like a trailer specially made for me. Her pretty face concentrating hard on my shoulder, her wild, damp hair splayed across her couch. The red mark on the softness of her inner thigh when I moved the ice across it, her cute smile when I gave her my jacket.
My shoulder aches a little as I get up, but it only brings the memory back even clearer. I let the movie play out in my mind as I go straight into
the shower to get ready. The water hitting me clears my headache, but it also clears a little of my good feeling as it wakes me up. That’s when I start to realize exactly what I’ve just done—gone back on the promise I made to myself.
I fucked a coworker.
And not just any coworker, but one I’ve got to work closely with.
If I’m honest with myself, I never stood a chance. Not with a face like hers. Not with a body like that. Maybe it’s a good thing it happened early. Clear out the tension, get it out in the open and make sure we’re on the same page. Better than walking around like a horny animal whenever I get a glimpse of her. Letting her distract me from my work with those beautiful... Shit, who am I kidding? I’ll still have to fight to keep my eyes away from her, but at least the mystery’s gone. Some of it, anyway.
Those sensual memories feel a little tainted now. A sense of frustration developing as I get dressed in front of Real Housewives. An angsty, twisting sense of irritation, of something wrong. Except the more I focus on it, the more I think it’s not regret that I did it, but that I won’t do it again…unless there’s some way for us to—
Fuck, Colin. It’s not going to happen. Get a grip…
I grab my coat and click the TV off. I wasn’t paying attention anyway, rare as that is. Shoes, keys, phone, wallet, and I’m out the door, but my thoughts are still in the same place. Another worry hits me: I haven’t even considered what Mia’s thinking the morning after. Is she regretting it? Is she over it? Is she as knotted up about it as I am?
I call an Uber to take me to the Three Flamingos where I left my car last night, and it pulls up within a couple of minutes. I get into the back, and bar a polite greeting, say nothing else so I can gaze out the window and think.
Pretty much the only thing I know about Mia is that she’s professional. A career woman. Maybe a little obsessive; certainly dedicated and focused. Not the type of person to go blabbing about last night to everyone in the hospital, or make it into an issue. But then again, she didn’t seem so focused when she was grinding against my cock and dripping ice-cold kisses into my mouth… And God knows I’ve been a bad judge of women before.
No. That’s not fair. Mia’s nothing like the women I’ve met before. I might not know much about her, but I know that.
“Thanks, buddy,” I say, when the cab pulls up outside the Three Flamingos.
I get out and walk across the lot to my own car, now one of only a couple there. The place was new to me yesterday, but now the entrance reminds me of plenty. That spot where I watched her walk with my coat on, a little drunk so her steps were uneven, but the extra sway in her hips electrified me. I really was just trying to be a nice guy. The coat, the walk home… Just normal, friendly neighbor stuff. I never meant for it to lead to what it did.
What was I supposed to do? Let her freeze and leave her to fend for herself? I guess sometimes you try to be the good guy and just end up a different kind of bad guy.
Either way, my mind’s made up. I won’t say a single word about it. In fact, I’ll go out of my way to find her on her shift just so that I can talk to her about boring work stuff and act completely oblivious—just to confirm what I promised. Set her at ease. Set myself at ease.
After drawing a line under my thoughts and deciding to leave it there, I let out a deep breath and concentrate on navigating the midday traffic. Minutes after I let my conscious thoughts go, those memories surface again, and I arrive at the hospital with images of Mia’s bouncing breasts and heart-shaped ass in my mind. So vivid I almost can’t see reality.
Somehow, I manage to park my car with the echo of her moans ringing in my ears like a catchy tune. I get out and walk to the hospital entrance. No gifts for the reception nurses today, but I did find out that Jessie likes K-pop, so I can always bring that up to start the day off right.
Through the entrance, several pairs of eyes turn in my direction from the lobby, though I’m getting better now at ignoring all the attention. Judging by the bustle, it looks like another typical day. The lobby chairs almost entirely taken, a crowd of people milling around at reception looking frustrated, the early stages of what might be an argument between a nurse and a small group to the side. Busy, but I’m getting used to busy. And liking it.
Suddenly, I see something. Not even a full “something,” just a hint of it, though it’s something so bad that even a hint freezes me on the spot and violently rips the good mood out of me. I feel the blood drain out of my face, body turning to stone.
Short blonde hair in an asymmetrical bob cut. The edges so sharp you can immediately tell getting close to her is dangerous. I can only see her from the back, but it’s enough. I know that shade of blonde, the length of it, the shape of it, better than anything. It’s scarred into my brain like a trauma.
She’s standing around reception among some other people, so I can’t see the rest of her, and there’s a nanosecond of hope in me. Maybe it’s just a trick of the light—maybe another woman decided she wanted her hair to look like a warning. Maybe…
But no. One of the other guys shifts and I catch a better look at her.
Shit.
If I felt like stone before, I feel like a corpse now that I’m sure it’s her. That dominatrix stance. Corset-shaped waist. Tailored, skinny dress pants. Cropped leather jacket over a black top. Angular shoulders that pull back, her posture so confident she’s almost bending backwards. I catch only a glimpse, but a glimpse is enough to open a whole vault of memories I can’t handle.
She laughs at something, turning as she does so. Seeing her face is almost painful. Cat eyes. Pinched nose. Cheekbones higher than royalty and a wide mouth that smiles easy—lies easy. Her eyes find me, and there’s not a hint of surprise. It’s as if she knew I was standing here. Eyes in the back of her head. Probably got them when she made a deal with the devil.
After breaking free from the group she moves toward me with her panther sway, and I hold my ground, bracing myself to slay the demon all over again.
“Saskia,” I growl through gritted teeth. A word said with suppressed anger, but she still smiles gleefully when I do. She stands a little too close, letting me decide if it’s confrontational or affectionate. Mind games as always. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She raises a thin eyebrow, smile turning for a split second into a defensive sneer, then laughs one of her little sparkling, jagged laughs.
“Colin…” she whispers in a low, smoky voice, relishing the sound of it on her tongue. It feels like she’s chewing me up already. “You look really, really great.”
“I shed a few pounds—and a few bad memories.”
Another flinty laugh and she leans in, hand going to my chest, though she takes it away before I can do anything about it. Her cat eyes narrow, and she tilts her head as her smile goes thin. I know the look. It means lust, or ambition, or the urge to destroy. For her those things all tend to come at once.
“Don’t get moody on me now, Colin.”
It’s said with an intimacy that makes my skin crawl, though it could just as easily be a threat. Everything Saskia says could be taken two ways. That jarring, husky voice is like something physical, and I can almost feel it wrapping around me, about to squeeze, to crush.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I repeat. “How did you find out where I work? What do you even want from—”
I feel something on my arm and hear a voice to the side, but it takes me a moment to remember where I am, what’s going on around me, my whole being focused on the bad memory that’s resurfaced right in front of me.
“Morning, Doctor Pierce,” Bob says with a big smile as he steps beside us. “Glad to see you got in on time—smart of you to leave early last night. Things got a little crazy afterwards. Some of the dancing… God… I’ve seen seizures with more restraint. We ended up being some of the last to leave!”
I manage to peel my eyes from Saskia to offer him a perfunctory smile. “Morning, Bob. Glad you made it out alive.”
/> Bob smiles at Saskia. Saskia smiles back at Bob. And there’s a brief pretense that everything’s fine until Bob speaks again and blows apart my entire life.
“I see you’ve met our new administrator, Saskia Long. Fresh from Dunhill, if you can believe it.” He leans a little closer. “She’s also on the board of several important institutions. Oh, yes. You can see why I was so excited now, can’t you? Ms. Long is going to spearhead a renaissance at Santa Teresa. Things are going to get pretty good around here.”
Saskia accepts the praise mildly. She loves compliments, but they’re never enough. “Colin and I have worked together before actually,” she says, enjoying the memory. “Very closely, in fact. At Dunhill.”
“Really?” Bob says, pulling his head back as if to assess me anew. “How about that. Small world, eh?”
“Mm. Such a funny coincidence,” Saskia says, but we both know coincidence had nothing to do with her taking this position.
“So then nobody will understand more than you what a coup this is for Santa Teresa,” Bob says to me, slapping my shoulder. “And what it means to have Saskia in charge of everything. Daily operations, making up all the schedules, keeping an eye on efficiency, managing every single department top to bottom—”
“Oh yeah,” I say. “I know what it means, trust me. I know all too well what it means.”
Bob smiles. “Whew! It’s a weight off my mind, I’ll tell you.”
I find myself nodding along easily even as there’s a sinking sensation inside of me like I’m stepping up to a gallows pole. Saskia’s mildly amused gaze upon me, sucking out the will to live with whatever dark arts she practices, leaving nothing but a bleak sense of dread.
“I can’t wait to get started,” Saskia purrs at Bob. “I just love a challenge.”
“Let’s get to it then,” Bob says, and Saskia flashes me one last smirk before sashaying away.
There’s no two ways about it.
I am deeply, royally, unequivocally fucked.