Wicked Wolff

by Reese Spenser

  “Hello.” The caller speaks first.

  The voice is familiar, but I’m having trouble placing it.

  “Is this a bad time, Sunshine?”

  “Dorian.” My voice takes on a sultriness that surprises me.

  “God, I fucking love it when you say my name,” he groans

  “How did you get my phone number?”

  “I always get what I want, Miss Frost.” His words wrap around me, snaking between my thighs. “And I want you.”

  “Are you saying you want to sleep with me?”

  “No. We won’t be getting any sleep.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m saying I want to fuck you, turn you out, take you all night long. I want you raw and climbing the fucking walls begging for my cock.”

  I don’t know what it says about me that I’m completely turned on by his filthy mouth. But the moisture between my thighs does not lie. And that’s when I hear my mother’s voice.

  ‘Bad boys ain't no good, but good boys ain't no fun.’

  Dorian is definitely a bad boy. He’s sex incarnate, temptation personified and all my dirty dream in one enticing package. He’s also the big bad wolf ready to devour me if I let him.

  I force the lie pass my throat and say. “I’m sorry if I led you on today Mr. Wolff, but I don’t want this. I will not become a Hollywood stereotype and I don’t want your attention.”

  His silence is deafening but his next words speak volumes.

  “As you wish.” The line goes dead, and Dorian is gone.

  The sudden absence of him has me pacing the floor wondering what tomorrow will bring my way.

  Entering the lobby of Gray Wolff Studio Tuesday morning I feel like all eyes are on me. The security guards are staring as I approach. Swiping my ID badge, I pass through the security turnstiles.

  “Good morning, Miss Frost.” The youngest of the two men greets.

  A quick look at his ID badge reveals his name.

  “Good morning, Officer Eastman.” And since I’m not in a hurry this morning, I greet both men. “Officer Coates.”

  The senior officer smiles in response and I continue on my way. I enter my dressing room before the team from hair and makeup arrives. However, wardrobe has already selected my attire for today.

  When Joel yells cut, at one o’clock I’m famished. I tend not to eat while I’m cooking.

  “Take ninety minutes everyone. You deserve it, we’ve had a great start today.”

  We began shooting at eight this morning. And for the most part everything went smoothly. There was an issue with lighting, but that was soon corrected. I also feel more in sync today. I have always felt more at home in the kitchen. And now that the set kitchen is organized to my liking, the flow is seamless.

  In my dressing room I change my shoes, preparing to walk a few blocks to Jacques Marie,’ a bistro I spotted yesterday with the most wonderful aromas wafting out onto the streets. Officer Coates waves as I exit the security turnstile to leave the building. The parking lot of Gray Wolff Studio is packed, and I wonder for the umpteenth time if Dorian is in the building today.

  The bistro is everything I hoped it would be. The food is delicious, and the atmosphere is friendly. My eyes are focus on my notes when I hear a familiar voice.

  “I hope you enjoyed the meal, Miss Frost.”

  Lifting my head, the smiling green eyes of Officer Eastman meet my gaze.

  “I did, very much.” I find myself smiling back. “Are you having lunch here as well?”

  “Not exactly. My family owns the place.”

  I look around the moderately filled room, making a more thorough observation.

  “It’s quite lovely. And very authentic.”

  “My uncle Jack came to the states to help my mom out, after my father died. He stayed on and they opened this restaurant together. They are both French and love to cook.”

  “I can relate. I fell in love with France and cooking at an early age.”

  “Would you like to meet them, Miss Frost?”

  “I would, and please call me Olivia.”

  “Alright, as long as you call me Kyle.”

  Standing I follow Kyle to the kitchen.

  “Uncle Jack.” Kyle calls out, and a man peeks his head out of an office. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

  A man who looks to be in his early fifties steps out of the office. There is very little family resemblance between Kyle and his uncle. His brown eyes rake over me with what I’ve come to recognize as sexual interest.

  “Olivia this is my uncle, Jacques Renard.” Reluctantly, I offer my hand and he kiss it.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Renard.”

  “Uncle Jack, this is...”

  Mr. Renard interrupts Kyle when he says. “Mademoiselle Olivia Frost needs no introduction. Her beautiful face is on billboards all over Los Angeles.”

  I feel myself blush under his scrutiny. I take an involuntary step back when he holds my hand too long.

  “The pleasure is mine,” he says, releasing my hand.

  “Is mom still here?” Kyle breaks the tension.

  “You just missed her,” Mr. Renard informs Kyle.

  “Maybe next time,” Kyle says to me, before checking his watch.

  We say our goodbyes and I’m ready to leave the bistro. Kyle walks back to Gray Wolff Studio with me. We share a few laughs along the way and by the time we reach the lobby I feel like I’ve made a friend.

  Reaching into my purse I pull out three tickets for my cooking demo and book signing.

  “Bring your mom and uncle. I would love to have a familiar face in the audience.”

  Accepting the tickets, Kyle thanks me and we go our separate ways.

  The next four hours are very productive and at the end of them Joel calls cut once again. I’m headed to my car when I hear heavy footstep trailing behind me.

  “Good job today.” Joel says as he passes me.

  “Thank you.”

  “See you tomorrow morning, Miss Frost.” He says before climbing behind the wheel of a black Audi SUV.

  I follow suit sliding behind the wheel of my car, exiting the parking lot after him.

  The rest of the week goes off without a hitch. I returned to Jacque Marie’s on Friday. This time I have lunch with Kyle, and I meet his mom. Marie Renard-Eastman is a charming woman, warm and inviting. She moved to America after she met and married Kyle’s dad, an American serviceman. Mrs. Eastman raised four children with her husband before he died five years ago. It was always her dream to open the restaurant with her husband. But when he died, she shared that dream with her brother Jacque, and they made it a reality.

  Aside from our love of French food, Kyle and I discover we have a lot in common. We both enjoy jogging, we’re both the youngest of our siblings and we share a love of wine collecting. That’s what brings us to a food and wine event today

  Sunday evening Kyle and I wrap up our outing, with dinner and a wine tasting. We sample wine from a family owned vineyard. There are several couples taking part in the wine tasting, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be here with someone I was in love with. Would the scenery appear romantic to me, would my lover be as intoxicating as the wine? I shut out thoughts of Dorian the moment they enter my head. I focus on the glass of wine instead. A Cabernet Sauvignon.

  Following the Sommelier’s instruction, I place the glass against a white background of a sheet of paper.

  “Wine tasting starts with your eyes.” The Sommelier tells the group. “The white background gives you a sense of the color, help to determine if our red wine is translucent or opaque.”

  The Cabernet has a dense rich purple color that clings to the glass.

  “Next we swirl the glass to coat the inside of the glass with a layer of wine.”

  I swirl my glass on the tabletop in little circles, when I notice some of the participants having trouble swirling freehand. They follow my example. I know from experience that t
his process will amplify the smell and increase the evaporation rate of the wine.

  “Take a large sip and swish it around your mouth” The Sommelier demonstrates, and it almost looks like he’s chewing. “This process gives you a good feel of the wine’s texture and flavor.”

  The wine is a full-bodied dry red with bold tannins. With grapes from the Napa Valley, the wine is fruitful, rich and ripe in style.

  “Now swallow,” the Sommelier instructs. “If you’re staying for dinner the Cabernet Sauvignon pairs perfect with lamb, beef, aged cheddar and pecorino cheeses.”

  When the wine tasting comes to an end, the group claps collectively. Kyle and I purchase a couple of bottles of the wine before taking the drive back to my place. We both have work tomorrow and staying out late on a Sunday night is not an option for me.

  Kyle walks me to my door and when he leans in to kiss me goodnight, I give him my cheek.

  “I had a really great time.”

  “I sense a but,” Kyle says.

  “No but; I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good night Olivia,” he says as I enter my condo.

  I listen at the door as he walks away. I forgo the glass of wine on the balcony in favor of curling up on the couch and watching a movie. And for some reason the urge to watch Gone with the Wind will not go away. Clark Gable is charismatic as Rhett Butler, but all I see is Dorian Wolff and the wicked intent in his captivating gray eyes.

  Chapter 5

  Dorian

  TO STAY IN PEEK PHYSICAL condition, I’m used to working my body past its limit. Engaging in various physical activities this week has also kept my mind off her. Like a goddamn horny teenager, she has kept my jeans tight and my palms sticky. I can’t seem to stop thinking about her. I’ve tried to quell the hunger I have for her but jacking off hasn’t helped. The thought of her only makes me harder.

  I still can’t fucking believe she said no to me. And somehow that makes me want her more. I also can’t believe I’m home on a Saturday night. I haven’t been back to the Asylum since I played with Eve a week ago. The same fucking night I imagined my cum spilling from my cock and sliding down Olivia’s throat. That was the first time I envisioned a woman other than the one I was with.

  Now that Olivia has walked into my life, she has me wishing I knew more about gentle caressing and sweet words. She’s so nice and clean, I want to tarnish her a bit and make her dirty for me.

  A Marilyn Monroe marathon on television has me fantasizing about another beautiful blonde. I close my eyes, giving in to the fantasy. Casting Olivia Frost as my leading lady.

  I remember how her mouth felt against mine, how the sound of my name passing her swollen lips inflated my cock. My dick twitches now, growing thicker and longer in my pants. Freeing my cock, I fist my shaft and I imagine its Olivia’s hand stroking my length. I don’t know how long my fantasy plays out before I’m trapped in a nightmare.

  “If you're a good boy, I'll let you come.”

  I’m startled awake from a nightmare when a riptide of fear threatens to pull me down into the darkness. Disgusted by my body’s betrayal, I make my way to the shower. Washing away the sweat and shame that clings to me I begin to feel almost human. But I can’t wash away the memories of the past.

  I’m dressed and out the door seeking refuge from the only place I’ve ever found it. The Asylum. I’ve had my share of nights fueled with Bourbon and bad choices. That was my existence before I found what I needed.

  Entering the Asylum, the DJ is blaring Rihanna’s S&M. The fucking lyrics becomes an aphrodisiac hardening my cock.

  Feels so good being bad. There's no way I'm turning back. Now the pain is for pleasure. 'Cause nothing can measure. 'Cause I may be bad but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it.

  Approaching the bar, I feel more like an animal, wild and primal, than a man. When I see Eve, I don’t make a move toward her. Jen has my attention tonight. A gorgeous full-figured blonde with blue eyes. She sees me staring and she joins me at the bar.

  “What’s up stranger? I haven’t seen you all week,” Jen greets.

  “I’m here now.”

  She looks over at Eve and back at me. “Eve looks disappointed.”

  “She’s looking for a new master and that’s not me.”

  “So, what’s your pleasure tonight, Sir.”

  “For now, something quick and dirty to take the edge off.”

  Jen drops to her knees and I let her suck my cock; she shows me her gratitude with eagerness.

  After a less than stellar weekend, Monday morning is a raging shit storm. I’ve managed to avoid Olivia for the past week. But that streak comes to an end when I enter the lobby of Gray Wolff Studio. Coming face to face with her and the goddamn security guard with his hands on her. It was enough to have me stalking toward them with unknown intentions.

  “I didn’t realize you’ve been moonlighting as a security officer, Miss Frost. Am I not paying you enough?”

  I don’t give a fuck that it was a dickish thing to say. And I don’t miss the daggers in Olivia’s eyes when she meets my gaze.

  “If you must know Mr. Wolff, I’m not on the clock.”

  “Yet you would jeopardize Eastman’s job by distracting him from his duties.”

  The moment Olivia’s indignation gives way to embarrassment, her cheeks turn a rosy pink. And I want to bend her over my knee and spank her until her ass is the same color.

  “I’m sorry Kyle,” she says. “I’ll see you later.”

  Kyle nods, he’s wise to keep his mouth shut.

  Olivia leaves in a huff and I follow her. She makes no effort to slow down, and I’m practically speed walking to catch up to her. Olivia enters her dressing room and I’m seconds behind her when she attempts to close the door.

  “You don’t get to walk away from me or shut the goddamn door in my face,” I shout.

  Olivia spins around like a scene from The Exorcist to face me. Her icy blue eyes are like glaciers, possessing a coldness that moves slowly up my spine.

  “What gives you the right to intrude in my personal life?”

  “When you decide to conduct your affair on my time.”

  “You’re such a fucking hypocrite.”

  “Excuse me!”

  “You’re okay with conducting an affair as long as it’s you fucking me.”

  “You will watch your language when you speak to me.” I’m fucking seething; no one talks to me like that.

  “I call bullshit.”

  “Don’t test me, Miss Frost.” I warn.

  “Or what.” She steps to me and her raw tenacity challenges me.

  Challenge accepted.

  Whether you view a spanking as utterly odious or deliciously erotic, it’s not the act itself but how it’s wielded.

  Pulling Olivia to me, I wrap my left arm around her waist bending her over my arm.

  “Let me go!” She shouts.

  “Not until you get what you deserve.”

  “You wouldn’t dare put your hands on me,” she says, struggling to free herself.

  “You have no idea what I would dare.”

  Landing three quick smacks to her ass, she shouts. “Stop it! Let me go!

  My palm connects again and again, twitching from the heat of each blow.

  “Ow! Stop it! Let me go!”

  Olivia’s cries ignite my basic animal instincts and I love every delicious fucking second of it. I release her after I’ve spanked her ten times. I’m so fucking hard my cock is pressing unbearably painful against my zipper. Olivia slapping my face does little to reduce the size of my swollen cock or the heat melting away the icebergs in her eyes.

  She fucking liked it.

  Olivia takes a cautious step backwards as I step closer.

  “Do you think brute force will get me to change my mind?”

  “No; but it got you to mind your manners.”

  The dressing room door opens and Jean from wardrobe enters, carrying
the outfits Olivia will wear on set today. At the sight of us, Jean’s eyes roam from me to Olivia. Tension fills the room stifling the air.

  “Good morning.” Jean says, breaking the silence. “I would’ve knocked, but I didn’t think anyone was here this early.”

  “It’s alright Jean.” Olivia assures her. “Mr. Wolff was just leaving.”

  I know she’s not trying to fucking dismiss me, like I’m some dirty goddamn secret. I’m Dorian fucking Wolff, and I’m not going to start losing sleep over the opinion of sheep. Jean can believe what she likes. And I make that perfectly clear.

  “Miss Frost and I haven’t finished discussing the importance of manners.” My gaze never leaves Olivia, daring her to test me again.

  Sensing correctly that she has walked in on something private between Olivia and me, Jean makes a hasty retreat. The door shuts behind her and I lunge at Olivia not sure if I want to kiss her or spank her ass again.

  Olivia takes the decision away from me when she accuses me of sexual misconduct. Like a fucking flood, everything I’m feeling for her gets washed away. My cock deflates, the passion racing my heart and the energy charging the air between us. It all disappears under a shit storm of shame.

  Chapter 6

  Olivia

  IT HAS BEEN FOUR WEEKS since Dorian kissed me. And three weeks since he spanked me after seeing me with Kyle. I’ve tried to forget the way I felt in his arms. And I’ve tried to make myself feel outraged by the spanking he gave me. The truth is I enjoyed it. I wanted it. I wanted the kiss and I wanted his hands on me. Over the past few weeks, he has dominated my thoughts, but dominating my body is his goal. Or at least it was.

  There is something wicked in Dorian and it has awakened something savage in me. Something that craves illicit pleasures. I’ve discovered that I’m desperate for it.

  Desperate for him.

  Keeping busy has been my saving grace. And Kyle who has become a wonderful friend. After the incident with Dorian, Kyle has slipped effortlessly into the friend zone. And he’s at my book signing and cooking demo today to support me as a friend. He brought his mom along and I can’t say that I’m disappointed that his Uncle Jack was not able to make it.