With an animal growl, Elson flipped her over and spanked her ass. It was so unexpected she tensed and whipped her head around. His smile was ruthless, and she loved it. She had absolutely no force left. It was all him now.
Elson rained spankings down on her ass. She was too orgasm-stupid to keep count, but it felt like a lot. They just kept coming, these raw smacks and slaps, until her skin sizzled. When her eyes focused, she saw how red her cheeks had become and felt like she’d swallowed wool. Every spanking was torture now. They were all so damn hard that she tried to roll over, but he wouldn’t have it. He kneeled on her thighs to keep her in place. She turned to one side and the other, but there was no escape. He had her good.
“No, stop! Stop!” Kim squealed as tears formed in her eyes. She blinked, and those tears spread across her lashes. The whole room sparkled, but the spanking didn’t stop.
“Something new.” Elson’s voice was dark, but regulated. “Like we said—eat you breathless, then eat you some more.”
It hurt so much, and it was real pain, genuine and intense. She tried to squirm away, but he wouldn’t let her move. Every slap was another slice of hell. She flinched when he raised his hand and howled when he lowered it, screamed when his palm struck her blazing flesh. She was crying now, honest-to-god tears, and no pain had ever felt this good.
“I said I’d spank you raw.”
“Mission accomplished,” she bawled, her breath hitching with every sob.
There was no hesitation in his actions as he climbed off her. Sure she was free to move, but damned if she had the energy for it now. When he pulled her to the edge of the mattress, she let her body slide against the mess of covers.
“What if I fuck you?”
All Kim could manage was a whispered, “Yesss.”
Her toes met the floor, but she didn’t stand. She couldn’t. She lay there, facedown on Elson’s bed, legs spread for him, hoping he’d get inside her soon. Damn soon.
When his fat cock penetrated her, it was too much and not enough. Something deep inside of her panged, and she clenched her pussy muscles, making him groan. He grabbed her waist hard, pulling her into the saddle of his hips. She made herself a toy for his pleasure, a rag doll. All her energy had been taken by force, by orgasms and spankings, and now she was a body of bliss.
Every time her searing ass met Elson’s pelvis, she whimpered. Her flesh prickled with heat. As his thumbs moved down her rear, pressing into her cheeks on both sides, she muttered a litany of obscenities, blurred together by sensation and emotion. “Fuckmefuckmejustfuckme!”
He did. He fucked her so hard she felt it in her toes. Her body buzzed and a familiar sensation reappeared in her belly. “Holy fuck, I’m gonna fucking come!”
“You come!” Elson commanded, thrusting so fast it made her weak.
“I’m gonna fucking come!” she cried, like saying it again made it even more true.
There was something about Elson’s voice, about the way he breathed and wheezed and grunted and growled, that she felt in her body. Her thighs were on fire from the inside out, and her pussy groped him, milked him, begged him to come. God, did he ever!
“Fuck yeah!” Elson rammed her robotically, like some mechanical force was driving his hips.
When Kim closed her eyes, the last of her tears spilled onto Elson’s sheets. She could just see the come exploding from his cock and filling her pussy. She could see his white coating her pink, and the thought made her moan.
Kim didn’t move when Elson collapsed beside her. Breath eluded them. Words did too. Even later, when Elson got under the covers, she had to stay on top. Her ass was still blazing.
“You really did a number on me.” She kissed his cheek. “Thanks.”
“So, was that something new?”
She laughed. “You bet.”
“Thinking of moving in with me now?”
She took a breath, gazing up at the car poster above his bed. “There ain’t enough room in this apartment for the two of us.”
This time, he laughed. “Would you at least consider spending a few nights here? With me? Hmm?”
Elson looked so cute when he begged, and Kim couldn’t help smiling. “After sex like that, how can I say no?”
OVER A BARREL
Tamsin Flowers
Bonnie Bryant hated winter weather. Even before she skidded on a patch of sidewalk ice and broke both her wrists the week after Thanksgiving. Not one wrist, like the old ladies who’re unsteady on their feet or the kids who are running too fast to avoid a snowball, but two. Both her arms were in plaster from the wrist to the elbow. Now she didn’t have to go out in the snow, but she had cabin fever and her mom’s chicken soup to contend with instead.
In short, she was miserable and feeling sorry for herself. And frustrated. There are certain things you can’t do with plaster casts on both your wrists.
“Come on, Bonnie. View it as a well-earned break from work,” said her mother, ramming a sofa cushion down behind her daughter’s back. “God knows, you worked enough hours overtime before Thanksgiving.”
“Mom, I can’t afford to take time off work. There are people in the office who would kill for my job and they’re probably already warming up my seat.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Melba Bryant.
She was too busy and Bonnie found it exhausting to watch her scurrying around the living room, putting things away in the wrong place and tidying what didn’t need to be tidied. She closed her eyes and wriggled on the cushions to try and make herself more comfortable.
“Right, I’m done.”
Melba’s voice from somewhere behind the couch cut through to her consciousness. She must have dozed off.
“I’m away now. I’ve left cut up sandwiches on the table for your lunch and I’ll be back at six to sort dinner. Anything you need from the store?”
“No, Mom.”
Bonnie shook her head sleepily, but then she remembered.
“Mom? Will you put the key out for me, please? Jason Haynes from the office is dropping by later to go over some files.”
Melba came round to the front of the couch.
“For the love of god, why won’t they leave you in peace? Well, at least this guy can tell you who’s after your job.”
“It’s him, Mom. He’s the one after my job.”
When the key turned in the lock at a quarter after four Bonnie was watching an episode of Dexter she’d missed earlier in the run. She scrabbled for the remote, which dropped with a clatter to the floor and skidded under the couch. As Dexter pierced his victim’s heart with a stiletto, Jason Haynes walked into the room and dropped his attaché case noisily on Bonnie’s dining table.
“Not disturbing you, am I, Bonnie?” he said, as he shrugged out of a sharply cut black coat flecked white with snow.
“I was just switching off,” said Bonnie, pointing toward where the remote fell. “Would you mind?”
Her cheeks burned. She hated Jason Haynes and hated the idea of him coming to her apartment. But the boss had left her with no choice. Jason needed information to complete some of her tasks and there was no way she was venturing back onto those icy sidewalks with both arms in plaster.
Jason bent down and retrieved the remote, silencing the gruesome noises coming from the television.
“Good to see you’re finding useful ways to fill the days,” he said.
Bonnie scowled but she knew better than to dig herself into a hole by trying to justify her viewing choice.
“Okay, Jason, let’s get on with it,” she said.
He nodded and she watched him as he moved one of her dining chairs closer to the couch and retrieved his case. His jet-black hair, always so perfect in the office, was a little wind-ruffled and speckled with rapidly melting snow, and his clean-shaved cheeks were rosy with cold. But other than that, and a slight water mark on one of his shoes, he was his usual pristine self. His charcoal suit was too expensive to show a crease and his shirt-tie combination was, as ev
er, in relentless good taste. How did he afford to dress so well given they were both doing the same job? Bonnie felt positively dowdy, slumped on the couch in her sweats.
He pulled a pile of folders out of his case and settled on the chair.
Bonnie sat forward on the couch and tried to feign interest. God, this was awkward.
“You want coffee?” she said. “Sorry, I should have suggested it before you sat.”
“I’ve gotta make my own, right?” he said with a wry smile.
“’fraid so,” Bonnie said apologetically.
“I bet you could do with one?”
“Only if you’re…”
“Show me where everything is, and I’ll make you the best cup you’ve had all day.”
“Easy,” laughed Bonnie, “Seeing as you’re only in competition with my mom.”
The ice was broken, so to speak, but once they were seated again, albeit with great coffee, Jason was all business. He opened the first file on his lap and pulled out a tender document Bonnie recognized. All those hours of slaving before Thanksgiving, distilled into four sheets of paper.
“The Bertram tender?” she said. “How’s it going?”
“Look, Bonnie, I had to put off submitting it.”
“What the fuck? It was supposed to go out the day I fell. It was all ready.”
“I was going to send it off but then I gave it a quick read-through, just for typos.”
“And?”
“And you’d made some pretty basic mistakes in your calculations.”
Bonnie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Jason, I went through those figures half a dozen times. There were no mistakes. And Walter approved them.”
Walter Brown was their mutual boss.
“There were mistakes, Bonnie.”
Jason’s tone brooked no argument, but that was exactly what he was going to get.
“Who do you think you are, coming in here and acting like the boss when, in fact, we’re both at the same level and I’ve been working for the company longer?”
She’d been doing these tenders for years; he’d probably missed a stage out of the calculation and then assumed it was her error. But Jason didn’t rise to the bait.
“I went over it with Walter and he agreed with me,” he said calmly. “I submitted the new version this morning.”
“Jesus, Jason, you can’t do that. Bertram Brothers is my client.”
“Bonnie, we work for the same company, for fuck’s sake. They’re all our clients. You messed up and I got it sorted. Don’t be angry with me for saving your ass.”
“Saving my ass! Yeah, and I wonder how Walter views it.”
“If you don’t like what’s going on in the office without you, might I suggest you hurry on back?”
Bonnie was furious, furious enough to take a swing at him with one of her casts. But luckily for Jason, he was saved by the bell. Bonnie’s cell phone sounded the klaxon that indicated her mother was on the line and, still glaring at Jason, she picked up.
“Mom, I can’t talk now, I’m in a meeting.”
“With the man who wants your job, right?”
This topic of conversation had to be right off-limits, with Jason sitting opposite her, surveying her apartment while he waited for her to finish.
“Mom!”
“Bonnie, it’s important. It’s the car. I can’t get it to start and your father thinks the carburetor’s gone, whatever that is. But basically I’m not going to be able to get over to do your dinner.”
“Shit! Sorry, Mom. When do you think you’ll be able to get here next?”
“I’ll let you know. You better call a friend.”
Bonnie dropped the cell phone on the couch with a sigh. Jason had obviously been all ears.
“Problem?”
“Evidently,” snapped Bonnie. Jason was not the person in whom she wanted to confide her domestic problems. And damn him for sitting there looking so cool, calm and collected—not to mention bloody handsome—as she got more and more flustered.
“Bonnie, I was only going to check if you needed any help with things,” said Jason, “but obviously you don’t.”
“That’s right, Jason, I don’t. Now, if we’re done?”
“We’re not.” Jason pulled another file from his pile. “Walter wanted me to talk to you about a new tender, for a new client. He thought your input would be useful.”
“Really?”
“Bonnie, grow up. I’m not out to take your job or steal your next promotion. Let’s go through this tender and make it the best we can and then, seeing as your mom can’t come, I’ll make your dinner before I go.”
And as if to make peace with her, he smiled at her. The full-megawatt Jason Haynes smile; the one that made her stomach flip even as she glared back at him. She bit back the sarcastic reply on the tip of her tongue.
“Thanks, Jason. Her car won’t start, and I’m pretty useless on my own with these.” She held up her two casts in an apologetic gesture.
Jason was as good as his word. They worked on the tender for an hour and Bonnie had to grudgingly admit to herself he knew what he was talking about. The result was better than anything she could have produced on her own. When they finished, Jason stashed all the files back into his attaché case.
“Now I’m starving,” he said. “Is there enough for two?”
This couldn’t have surprised Bonnie more. In the three months they had been working together they hadn’t so much as shared a cup of coffee let alone a meal together.
“I don’t know what Mom was going to cook but there’s always pasta and tomatoes and bacon, if you can do something with those?”
Jason headed for the kitchen and Bonnie struggled up from the couch to follow him. If she couldn’t cook, the least she could do was tell him where everything was. She perched herself on a stool at the breakfast bar, letting the weight of her casts rest on the counter.
“Wine?” said Jason.
“There’s a bottle of white in the fridge,” said Bonnie. “Glasses are over in that top cupboard, and you’ll find a corkscrew in the drawer.”
Minutes later Jason had the bottle open and Bonnie was listening to the familiar glug-glug-glug of wine being poured. He held out a glass to her.
“I can’t hold it,” she said.
“Got any straws?”
When she shook her head, Jason came round to her side of the breakfast bar and slowly raised the glass up to her lips. She took a sip and, when he tilted it again, a large gulp.
“Thanks. That’s the first mouthful of wine I’ve had since the accident and, boy, does it taste good.”
Jason laughed and gave her another sip. Then he turned his attention to chopping onions and tomatoes to make a sauce for the pasta.
“What else have you been missing since you’ve had those things on your arms?” he said as they sat opposite each other at the dining table thirty minutes later, large dishes of pasta steaming in front of them.
He’d been most attentive throughout the cooking process, and Bonnie was on to a second glass of wine.
“Taking a bath,” she said. “I have to go in the shower with plastic bags on my arms and mom has to help me wash my hair. It’s humiliating, like being a little kid again.”
“You don’t like people looking after you, do you, Bonnie? You’d rather do it all on your own.”
He saw she was struggling to get the spaghetti onto her fork.
“Here, let me,” he said, shuffling his chair around to her side of the table.
“Nobody likes to be babied,” she said.
He gave her another mouthful of wine and then fed her some pasta. Bonnie wondered if she was getting a little drunk but it was such a pleasant change from the finger food her mom had been preparing that she didn’t care.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Jason. “It’s nice to let someone else take the strain, from time to time.”
He swept a stray lock of hair back from her forehead and tucked
it behind her ear. It was a totally natural gesture, with no self-consciousness at all. It made Bonnie wonder if he’d had experience in looking after invalids.
“So I suppose you can’t get dressed or undressed on your own, either?”
Bonnie felt her face flame red. It seemed like such a silly thing to get coy about, given the circumstances, but suddenly all she could think about was Jason’s tanned and sculpted hands removing her clothing. All of it.
“I don’t need any help from you, if that’s what you were offering.”
She heard his sharp intake of breath at the idea of it. It was time Jason Haynes got going. But he obviously didn’t think so; he topped her glass up with wine and held it to her mouth.
“No, Jason, I’ve had enough.”
He immediately put the glass down.
“Sorry if my behavior’s been a little crass,” he said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”
With a rush of heat between her legs, Bonnie suddenly knew exactly what she’d like Jason to do for her. She could hardly believe what she was thinking, but then these bloody casts meant she’d had to go two weeks already without an orgasm. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you could ask your mom to do for you.
“Bonnie?” Jason’s voice cut into her thoughts like a knife into butter. “What is it?”
Bonnie shook her head but her face flushed with embarrassment. Again.
“I’m fine, Jason. Thanks for everything you’ve done.”
Jason got up and carried their empty plates back to the kitchen.
“When d’you think you’ll be back in the office?”
Bonnie shrugged. “As soon as these are off.”
“We’re missing you.” Jason took a step toward her. “Correction. I’m missing you.”
Without thinking, Bonnie stepped in to meet him. He put his hands on her shoulders and his dark, sultry eyes locked on to hers. It seemed a little surreal for him to say he was missing her at work and to now be standing in what certainly qualified as each other’s personal space.
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