Easy Come (Plaything Book 1)

by Tess Oliver

  I looked across the room. Trey's big feet were propped up on the arm of the couch, but that was all I could see of him. Again, he stuck to his word.

  I slipped my panties off and pushed them aside. It was hard to believe I was about to do something so wild, so out of character, but as a reporter, I'd always found my best stories emerged when I took chances, when I stepped out of my comfort zone. And this was way out of my comfort zone. Or at least it had been until Trey's teasing narration had aroused me to the point where I was crazy in need of being satisfied.

  I picked up the vibrator. It glistened with lube just like a real erection would glisten with pre-cum.

  "Georgie," Trey's deep voice trailed across the room and reignited the fire between my legs he'd started a few minutes earlier. "If you have any questions—"

  "Nope," I called back too quickly. "I pretty much know where things are. Thanks."

  His deep, quiet laugh followed.

  I pressed the tip of the toy against my pussy and sucked in a breath, not expecting the power behind it. I closed my eyes and rubbed it along the folds. My legs dropped open as the vibrations and the lubed tip relaxed me, renewing that urgent need I felt earlier when Trey spoke dirty words to me. The handy little device coupled with my own preference for pressure and placement quickly brought the heat of blush over my skin. My pulse raced as I felt my body react to the toy. I pushed the vibrator inside and hardly had to do anything but hold it in place. It did all the work, along with the helpful little clit stimulator working its own magic. I moved the shaft inside of me just slightly and brought my legs closer together.

  As I turned on my side, the vibrator brushed a hidden gem of a spot inside of me, a place I didn't know existed. It set off a wild sensation in my pussy.

  My eyes drifted shut. I couldn't stop the soft mewling sound coming from my throat. I was sure Trey could hear me, but I didn't care. My body and mind had gone liquid with the exquisite feeling of the vibrator tapping the inner spot. Through the haze, I could hear Trey's voice calling to me from the couch. It should have snapped me out of my erotic fog, but I was in too deep.

  I eased off on touching the G-spot, the incredible button I'd found, because I wasn't ready for the finale yet. I was enjoying the opening scene too damn much. As I hugged the vibrator between my thighs, I sensed a shadow standing over me. I gazed up at the handsome face, the intense gaze, the confident jaw.

  Trey was watching me. He'd broken his promise. It should have angered me enough to stop. But it didn't. Somehow, having him watch me, took me right over the edge. My pussy and my entire body convulsed with an orgasm that seemed to roll on forever. As the waves subsided, I removed the vibrator and unfurled my body. I was physically exhausted from the intensity of it all. I stared up at Trey feeling somewhat helpless and stunned. I couldn't explain my reaction to his watching me with the vibrator except that I was feeling aroused again at the thought of it. I'd silently invited him to an intensely private moment, and I'd welcomed his intrusion. Was this me? Was this that sexually liberated side of me, the side that took pleasure from being watched? Or was it just this particular man who had awakened those latent, erotic tendencies just by being so damn appealing? It seemed I definitely had some reflections and thought provoking questions for my notebook.

  "I'm sorry." His voice was low and gravelly. "You weren't answering. I thought you might need some guidance," Trey added, looking not the slightest bit ashamed or regretful that he'd stood over me and watched me climax.

  He saw that I was sleepy and still a little heavy lidded from the drinks. He leaned down, and for a second, my skin pebbled with gooseflesh thinking he might take me into his arms or caress me or just touch me to assure me he had some inkling of attraction to me.

  I could feel the disappointment through my entire body as he reached down to the quilt folded along the bottom half of the bed and lifted it up over me. He tucked me in without even a brush of his fingertips or mouth. It might just have been because I craved cuddling after good sex, but I badly wanted his touch.

  There was no smile as he tucked the quilt around me and pushed a pillow under my head. In fact, it seemed his jaw was slightly strained. He almost looked angry. I wasn't sure how to respond and wondered if I should just climb out of the bed and get dressed.

  Then he lowered his mouth to my ear and dropped his deep voice low. "That was a lie. I walked over here because I fucking wanted to watch you come." With that, he turned the lights down and walked out of the room.

  I curled into a cozy ball under the quilt, the lubricant and faint feel of the vibrator still fresh in my pussy. With the whiskey and Trey's last words floating around my head, I fell into a luxurious sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  Trey

  I sat on the balcony hoping the brisk night air would extinguish some of the heat, but it seemed the only way I could cool off and stop thinking about the half naked beauty in my bed was to jump feet first into a frozen pond. And even then, I was sure it would take hours for my pulse and heart rate to slow.

  My phone buzzed. It was Zane. I drank the last bit of my beer and answered. "Hey."

  "How's the sexperiment going?" Aside from his biting wit and the dark copper hair and brown eyes that made the women melt at his feet, Zane was the super brain of the group. In our first year of high school, he'd set a goal to get straight As and a scholarship. He was well on his way until his divorced mother married a disgusting slob of a man. The guy turned out to be an abusive asshole. When Zane caught him trying to strangle his mom, Zane grabbed a kitchen knife and stabbed the jerk. The man didn't die, but Zane ended up in a foster home for a year. By the time he returned for his senior year, he'd fallen behind in academics. His enthusiasm for excelling was gone. But he was back on top now and his marketing skills had helped put Plaything on the Fortune 500 list.

  "I don't know why I thought I could handle this." I got up and walked to the railing running along the balcony. The night was free of fog, and I could see all the way to the end of the city lights where the ocean began.

  "Why is that? Chase said the reporter was one of those hot studious types, with all the right curves and brains to match."

  "I'd say Chase was spot on with that description. But like you said, I have to keep my hands to myself or risk getting in trouble. And I'm not sure I've got that kind of control."

  "Ah, bullshit, just pull out your phone and dial up one of the many women you have in your contact list. That'll take the edge off."

  "Nope, I don't think that's going to do the trick. But I'll get through this. It's for the company, right? That fucking Chase. If he hadn't dumped the owner of the magazine, she wouldn't be so hyped on having an article about Plaything."

  "Well you know Chase. Always thinks with his dick. But I'm more interested about what I'm hearing in this phone call. Sounds like Mr. Cool has finally met his match. Who'd have thought the brainy, journalist type was your thing? Although in high school, you did always have a hard on for that cute English teacher."

  "Shit, you and that memory of yours. You never forget a fucking thing."

  "Forget? You used to sit up front and stare at her like she was some damn centerfold model. Hey, which reminds me, Aidan invited a bunch of models to Sunday night's party. Have you invited your reporter friend? Could be a good place for her to see that we're all just a regular bunch of people running a successful company."

  I laughed. "Regular, my ass. Especially when we're drunk and surrounded by models. But I might invite her. It could fit in with my plan." A sound behind me made me turn toward the glass doors leading to the balcony. Georgie had changed back into her dress. Her hair was slightly ruffled. Her cheeks were pink as she waved through the glass.

  "I've got to go, Zane. Later." I hung up.

  I slid open the door and stepped inside. Georgie avoided looking directly at me as she lifted her phone. "I just scheduled an Uber driver to pick me up."

  "What? Why? You're welcome to stay the night. I'll sleep i
n the guestroom." That suggestion was meant to appease her. Instead, it seemed to make her frown.

  "No, I don't want to intrude, and I prefer to sleep in my own bed. I told them I'd wait outside." She still didn't lift her eyes to me.

  "Georgie, is everything all right?"

  "Yes," she said quickly. "I had a lovely"—her frown turned to a weak smile—"an interesting time. I want to get home and do some writing." She finally lifted her face to me as she tapped her head. "Lots of stuff and reflections floating around up here. Thank you again."

  I walked her to the door. "I'll wait outside with you."

  "You don't have to. It seems like a very safe neighborhood."

  "I have to buzz the car inside the gates." I walked out onto the porch with Georgie and had seriously begun regretting the whole idea. But now the thought of her walking out of my life for good left me with a cold feeling. I didn't want to let her go. I wanted to know her. I wanted to know what she liked to eat for breakfast. I wanted to know about her past and her future. I wanted to know what it felt like to hold her naked in my arms, stuttering my name on long hot whispers as I brought her to climax.

  "We're having a cocktail party Sunday night for the company and other important people. I would really like you to come. It might be a good way to do some research."

  Two headlights appeared at the gate.

  "I'll think about it. Good night, Trey." Georgie hurried down the driveway to meet the car, rushing off as if she wanted to leave my house and never return.

  Chapter Eleven

  Georgie

  I sat under the flickering light bulb hanging over the small kitchen table in my apartment. Tiger, my big orange tabby cat, stretched his body out across the table and curled his long tail over the notebook. I flicked his tail away, but, like a spring, it curled right back. Tiger leaned his head forward, and he pushed it against my hand for some ear rubbing. I put down my pen to grant him his wish.

  After the Uber driver dropped me in the parking lot, I'd trudged up the two flights of stairs to my apartment feeling lonely and more than just a little disappointed in myself. I had considered myself a gutsy, daring reporter. At first, this story idea had seemed like just the edgy piece I needed. But I'd thrown just a bit too many of my feelings into the mix. After changing into pajamas and making myself some hot tea, I had sat down, thinking I had at least enough ideas to start the story. But my journaling session hadn't been terribly productive.

  I sat back against the chair and looked down at the notebook I'd been staring at for an hour. My tea had turned cold and my ideas had too. I had, however, written the name Trey in every high school doodling font I could remember, and, of course, each time I'd written his name, I framed it with a heart. The man had transformed me from a confident, award winning journalist into a blushing school girl, a school girl with a crush on a boy who only wanted to use her to cheat off her math test. Trey had no interest in me except he knew I could give his company free advertisement in a widely circulated magazine. That sobering reality had prodded me from the warmth of his bed and out the door of his house.

  I dropped the pen and got up from the table. I switched off the light and heard Tiger's padded paws hit the floor and trot behind me as I headed to the bedroom.

  Meredith could have her reporter position. A broken heart had never been a part of the job description.

  Chapter Twelve

  Trey

  My hand hovered over my phone for a minute before I coaxed myself to pick it up. As much as Georgie had insisted everything was fine, she had left my house upset. I blamed myself. I should never have betrayed her trust by walking over to watch her on the bed. I couldn't help myself. I'd gone to the very edge of self-control with Georgie, but hearing her quiet moans across the room had finally broken my steely resolve. Obviously, it was a stupid move, and now, I'd no doubt, lost her confidence. If I was smart or had any sense, I would just let it go, let her go and wait to see what she wrote in the magazine. But all my smarts and senses seemed to have disappeared the second Georgie Dempsey walked into my office.

  I dialed the number she had given me. I half expected it to go to voicemail and was thrown off guard when she answered. "Hello."

  "Georgie, it's Trey, Trey Armstrong."

  "Yes, I thought it might be. Listen, I'm sorry I scurried out so fast last night."

  "No," I spoke up quickly. "I went back on my promise. I don't blame you for wanting to leave. Look, we can just drop the whole thing. I don't want to push you into doing something that makes you uncomfortable."

  She paused. "Actually, I went to bed last night telling myself that this just wasn't going to work out. Then I woke this morning, and instead of feeling relieved by my decision, I felt utter disappointment in myself. I'm usually not such a delicate flower. I want to continue with this sexual awakening. I pulled myself out of bed this morning and wrote a good three thousand words. I want to keep going. Unless of course, it no longer interests you. I can only imagine how busy you are. I could just continue by myself."

  "That doesn't sound the least bit fun. If you still want my help with this, I'm glad to lend a hand. Or whatever else it might take. I mean no physical contact still. I will stick to that rule." Even if it is the fucking death of me, I wanted to add but decided against it.

  There was a longer pause on her end, and I thought she'd changed her mind again. I was sounding too damn enthusiastic. "Sounds like you need to give it more thought."

  "No." The word shot back to me. "No, I've given it plenty of thought. As unusual as last night was, I realized that my sex life hasn't just been peanut butter sandwiches. It's been plain bread. And I'm talking about that white, flavorless kind. I learned some things about myself. I felt—My body reacted in a way—Never mind, you'll have to read all about it in my article. So, yes, any help or advice you want to give this plain bread girl, I'll take it."

  Instantly, my cock reacted to the idea of helping her. I shifted on the kitchen chair to relieve the pressure. Even though no amount of publicity was worth the physical torture I was going to go through helping Georgie find her sexual self, I couldn't say no. Mostly because I wanted to be near her.

  "It's Saturday and the weather is great. Why don't I take you out on my boat." The suggestion popped into my head and out of my mouth before I'd given it much thought.

  "You have a boat? Of course you have a boat. You'll need to excuse me. I'm one of those regular people who is thrilled when I have extra money to buy a ticket to a movie with a boat in it, let alone enough to ever actually own a boat. Yes, I'd like that. Where should I meet you?"

  "I can pick you up."

  "No, I'd rather just meet you. That way I'll have my own car just in case."

  "All right." I made sure to push away the disappointment in my voice. It was clear she didn't completely trust me. Couldn't blame her. "The Bridgeport Marina, slip eighteen. I'll see you in an hour. Bring a swimsuit. I've got everything else you'll need."

  Chapter Thirteen

  Georgie

  Slip eighteen at the marina contained a beautiful boat, with a nice shiny white hull and lots of slivery chrome. But the thing that really caught my eye was the glistening, shirtless man in swim trunks and a blue captain's cap.

  Trey's white smile gleamed out from under the shade of his hat. He waved and climbed down from the top deck to meet me at the dock. He lowered a small gangplank, and I walked across and onto his boat. White and blue striped seats lined the stern, and there was plenty of sunning space at the bow. I'd been on a few ski boats, a rented party pontoon and a whale watching boat. This was definitely my first time on a luxury yacht, although it was smaller than I'd imagined.

  "Welcome aboard the Plaything Two."

  "It's beautiful. Why two?"

  He pointed to the much bigger yacht in the next slip. "That's Plaything One. I use Two for shorter day excursions."

  "Ah, yes of course. Silly me for asking."

  Trey picked up the small duffle I'd packed for
myself. It contained two bathing suits, my one piece and a much skimpier bikini that I bought on a whim during a shopping trip with my friends. It was in September so all the suits had been marked ninety percent off. I'd decided the deal was too good to pass up. I hadn't gotten the courage to wear the suit anywhere except in front of my bathroom mirror. I wasn't sure I'd have the courage today either.

  The ocean breeze pushed off my wide brimmed straw hat. With amazing reflexes, Trey caught it before it sailed off for good. Trey handed it back to me and took note of my shorts and t-shirt. My khaki shorts came to mid thigh and the t-shirt was a bit too big, but Trey looked me up and down as if he could see right through the fabric. Instantly, those few moments in his bedroom where he basically seduced me with just his words and nearness came back to me, and the warmth from the sun seemed to sweep over my skin and rest snuggly between my thighs.

  "I'll show you to the bedroom."

  His suggestion made my eyes round.

  "So you can change into your swimsuit," he added. A cocky smile followed.

  He led me down a few steps into the cabin. There was a small, luxurious sitting area surrounded by windows that provided a view from every side of the boat. We continued on into a bedroom that was big enough for a king sized bed and a sitting area. Everything was decorated in masculine colors. It seemed no comfort was overlooked. A large wooden trunk sat at the end of the bed. Trey placed my bag on it.

  He swept his arm around. "Do you like it?"

  "What's not to like?"

  Trey stepped close enough that the fresh scent of his soap wafted toward my face. Whatever brand he used, it was like a damn aphrodisiac. The scent coupled with his nearness took me back to the night before when I had been nearly delirious with wanting him to touch me. I couldn't believe how easily Trey stirred me sensually. I'd even written about it in my journal, when, after sleeping with my thoughts and a few erotic dreams, I had woken with a new enthusiasm for our plan. I'd gone to bed thinking this was done, and I was going to give it up before I ended up emotionally shattered. But I woke more determined than ever to see this through and write a spectacular article to go with it. As my fingers moved over the keyboard and the words flowed along with my self-reflection, I realized how important Trey was to the process. He was the expert and I was the willing pupil. I just needed to keep my heart wrapped up and out of reach. This was to be strictly physical. The whole damn thing. And even if Trey had no inclination to touch me, I needed him to guide me to those erogenous zones on my body that had been hidden all this time, just waiting to be uncovered by the right person.