Night Owl (The Complete Serial)

by M. C. Cerny

  “Casey, I dictate how this happens.” He grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it off over his head, dropping it to the floor. He kicks off his shoes, unbuttoning his jeans. He pulls them down, along with his underwear, leaving my boss standing there in all his naked erect glory.

  A hand comes to cover my mouth and I realize it’s my own. “Oh, my god,” I mutter, looking him over. I like what I see and he knows it. James Austin is one cocky son of a bitch.

  8

  James

  Casey is flushed a sweet shade of mottled pink. A sheen of sweat glistens on her skin and glows like diamond dust in the reflected light. Her tangy musky taste still lingers on my mouth. Legs wide and naked, with the exception of her boots and shredded stockings, her fingers clutch the sheets. Her hair surrounds her like a dark halo. My fallen angel. My dick is hard and pulsing, finally free from the confines of my jeans. It’s eager to find a home in her wet heat.

  I know she likes what she sees when she lets go of the sheets and lifts a finger, beckoning me to join her on the bed. Smiling, I look her over, taking in the sight. Is it wrong that I want to snap a picture with my iPhone so I can remember this forever? I wonder if she would let me, but I refrain from asking her.

  “Did you like that?” I ask, crawling back over her body. I lean over her and let my skin touch hers before lifting back up again teasing. Her eyes are closed, long eyelashes fan dark spikes against pale cheeks. She nods, smiling and opening those eyes of hers. I shake my head. “Words, Casey. I want you to always be talking to me… on the radio, in the car, over the phone, in person, and especially in the bedroom. I want you always communicating with me.” I push a lock of messy hair behind her ear, tugging it, and tilt her face up to mine.

  “Yes, James. I liked it very much.” Her tone is snarky. Such sass from this girl.

  “Did you now? I couldn’t tell.” I let my fingers trace the lines of her smiling face.

  “Now you’re just being cruel, James.”

  “Hmm, am I?” I look at my silver wristwatch, the dial visible in the dim light from her window. “You know, you made me wait eighteen months and it’s only been fifteen minutes.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m still not sure we should be doing this. Are you punishing me?”

  I reach down and pinch her nipple, earning a yelp. Before she can smack me or push me away, I grip her hands over her head and lean my body down against hers, keeping her trapped on the bed. She tries to dislodge me with her hips… unsuccessfully.

  “For each month you’ve said no, I’m exacting a minute of torture. So am I punishing you? In a matter of speaking, I am. This is going to be the longest three minutes of your life, sweet girl.” Growling against her ear, I nip the lobe gently, earning a delicious moan of surrender.

  “Be kind,” she whispers and softly kisses my cheek.

  Using my nose, I nudge her face to mine. “Always.” I kiss her lips, forcing her to open her mouth. Sweet strawberries and her tang wrap around my tongue. Her kiss is heaven with a kick in the ass. Our bodies rub together, creating heat. I calculate the time in my head. Even if I have to unman myself to last that long, it will be three minutes.

  “Wait.” She tries to lift up and I pause. If she says no, I might just cry, but I’d never force her.

  Gritting my teeth, I take a breath before speaking. “What?”

  Her eyelids flutter once before her tongue darts out to lick her top lip. “Protection?”

  Looking down, I smile at her. “I haven’t been with anyone in over eighteen months. I’m clean.” Her eyes open wide, likely surprised by my confession. I let one wrist go and palm the softness of her belly. Crazy as it sounds, I’d love to stick a child in there and watch her plump with my seed, but that’s another conversation for another day.

  “I take my pill daily. There’s been no one else since I started working for you.” She looks down at my hand and then back to my face.

  “Why have we been torturing each other?” She doesn’t answer and I let my cock, hard and pulsing, rest at the apex of her center. Her hips lift to meet mine and grind against me. The wetness between her thighs makes my thrust slip against her skin as I pull away just enough to fall lower and press against her, the tip of my cock pushing in between her lips. “Casey, sweet girl…,” I groan, feeling her clench.

  “We can’t go back from this, James.” I feel her open her legs a little wider and take a deep breath, preparing herself for me.

  “I don’t ever want to go back.” I want her more than anything.

  I push in fully, feeling her hot channel squeeze me. Feeling her muscles contract against me as I slowly thrust in and out is glorious. I’m rendered insensible by Casey Cole. I clutch her face between my hands as I thrust into her body, which meets mine stroke for stroke. I watch her face contort in pleasure and she moans as I brush messy tendrils of hair from her face. She turns her face to my palm and I feel her lower body contract.

  “We still have another two minutes, sweet girl.” The squeal of displeasure is loud, making me laugh as I slow my thrusts down, barely touching the spot she wants so badly.

  “You’re shameless, James.” Casey tries to wrap her legs around my hips, but I don’t give her the chance to lock her ankles around me. Pulling out, I flip her over onto her side, holding her against me. Our breathing is harsh, our bodies overheated.

  “I’ll make it worth the wait,” I whisper hoarsely against her neck, licking her skin. Hugging her body close, I keep a grip on her hands and arms, forcing her to keep still. It’s a slightly awkward position, but one that lets me maintain control. I use my knee to pull her legs apart and slip my cock back in, not giving her the time to think about it. My free hand slips over her body and between those luscious thighs to play with her clit. I gently flick it when I push deeply into her.

  “Oh god, James.” I feel her body relax with the pleasure, and I kiss her neck, sucking on the skin. It’ll leave a mark on her I want the whole world to see. No more hiding, no more pretending, no more faking it. Her moans become sexy little grunts as I pump faster and flick her harder, rubbing the slick skin. I let my tongue roam her neck before biting her and sucking, making another visible love bite. I plan on making a chain of amethyst colored bruises around her neck for the whole world to see before the night is over.

  Finally, her body convulses and I continue to thrust mercilessly, taking my own pleasure, spilling deep inside her core. I hold her close to me as she comes down from her orgasm, and I have no intention of letting her go.

  Kissing the back of her head, I tell her, “Sweet girl, make no mistake about it. You are mine.” Her hands, which I’ve released, snake around my neck, and I pull out so she can turn over to embrace me. She looks worn, sleepy, and not likely to escape from the bed anytime soon. A gentle kiss pecks the corner of my mouth as Casey settles into a slumber, the beginnings of a small smile curving her lips.

  II

  On Air

  When love is anything but sweet…

  9

  Casey

  After tossing and turning most of the night, my eyes open slowly. Lying in bed, I moan groggily as I reach over to pick up my phone, sliding the bar over to check for any messages.

  BossMan: Going “radio silent” isn’t going to deter me. Meet me for lunch. Please?

  Nervousness flutters through me as I swallow the lump of uncertainty in my throat. I’ve managed to avoid James all week… which isn’t saying much considering he gave me an orgasm to last me for years, or that I’ve been running from job to job every day since the “night to change all nights” occurred. I held out for eighteen months to not be that girl. I’m not afraid to say the situation has me chicken shit nervous and ready to fold my cards. My pride lays tattered on the floor with my ripped stockings I left there as a reminder.

  Dog walking is keeping my booty in check, while my penchant for things like peanut butter and caramel keep my curves sweet. I finally give in to the big boss man, and now I’m ru
nning scared with my tail between my legs. I can’t help the way I start panting, and my legs wobble at the mere thought of James circling his tongue around my nipple or flicking my clit.

  He’s a god in the bedroom.

  And I’m, well… I’m just me.

  Uncertainty, with a mixture of shame and excitement thrown in, is what keeps me backpedaling from James Austin. He’s too much to handle, way too much for me. I contemplate answering his message with one of my own. Yes… No… Shit, I don’t know. I toss the phone into the mass of covers, pushing my body up. Coffee is the deciding factor. I can’t make any rational decisions without a caffeinated elixir coursing through my veins. Then I’ll decide what to do with my hot boss and his “hot dog”. Snickering, I put my feet on the floor and get my ass in the bathroom.

  This morning, I am in a rush to drag a Pekingese named Charlie through the park. Passing through my living room, I throw a sheet over the mirror, so I’m not distracted by the naughty things I crave so badly with him. Hazy visions of wanting James to spread me out in front of it nearly make me collapse on the sofa. My pulse accelerates dangerously fast, and I can’t decide if my blood sugar is low or if I’ve become a sex addict. I don’t have time for a bakery treat from Pauline’s, my favorite bakery or a quickie in the sack with James. Neither will do me any good if I miss my appointment with Charlie’s pain in the ass owner. James is a damn good distraction.

  Running out of my apartment dressed in denim leggings, a cranberry-colored wool jacket, black scarf, hat, and ballet flats, I slam straight into a solid mass. Stench like rotting cantaloupe permeates my nostrils and my throat closes on an automatic gag. I’m pretty sure I never want to see or eat fleshy orange fruit ever again.

  “Oh, dear Jesus…” As I attempt to cover my mouth and nose, a wiry arm attached to a similarly gross body pushes me back against the wall with enough force, my head snaps against the cheap, thin sheetrock.

  “Casey, you’ve been having guests over?”

  It’s my jealous freak of a neighbor, Devin. I don’t know how he knew I was leaving my apartment this morning. I look past his shoulder to his door, which is cracked open, and see a large TV in his living room, some video game paused on the screen. Looking back at him warily, his eyes are bloodshot and his skin is pale. He probably gets as much sleep as I do and that’s not saying much. Usually, he just makes inappropriate comments, leaving me unmolested. This is the first time he’s done anything physical. I am more annoyed than scared of his antics today.

  “Let me pass.” I struggle to push him off of me, nervousness making my push more of a weak prod. He’s rude and disgusting, making my stomach turn sour with bile. Grunting, he throws up his hands and I scoot away from him, making it to the stairs in a frantic jog. Peering over my shoulder, I see him slam his apartment door. I shake it off, racing down the two flights of my second story walk-up, busting out the front door to the street, chest heaving. James won’t like knowing Devin approached me, which is exactly why I don’t plan on telling him.

  10

  James

  I “finger fuck” the screen of my smart phone, sliding the bar back and forth slowly as if that will magically influence her to respond to my morning text. I’ve been sitting in my office for over an hour, flipping through reports, Casey occupying my thoughts heavily.

  My stubborn girl.

  Thinking about how she came in my arms repeatedly makes me want to jump up from my desk and drag her back to my house. I tried that once and she kicked me out of her apartment without even a thank you or a kiss to sweeten the blow of rejection. This secret keeping shit is better suited to superheroes; I much prefer to be the villain and plunder.

  A slight knock on my office door distracts me for a moment. “Come in,” I say, hoping whoever it is will go away so I can continue to dwell in my Casey-laden fantasy.

  “Sir, you have a call on line one.” Michelle, the executive office administrator and something of my PA, pokes her head inside, nodding to the phone on my desk. I must not have heard the damn thing buzzing me. A dial tone permeates my office.

  “Thank you, Michelle.” Dismissing her, I answer the phone, annoyed and expecting another rabid advertiser to deal with. Don’t I have a marketing department to take these calls? “Hello, James Austin.” I rest the phone in the crook of my neck, waiting, paging through another set of papers, glancing and organizing numbers in my head.

  “Good morning, James.” Soft. Sultry. Instantly, I perk up at hearing her sweet voice.

  “Casey…?” I’m confused why she didn’t call my personal cellphone. She has my number and I have been pestering her since that night to use it anytime.

  “So… I found myself in the neighborhood this morning.” It sounds like she’s outside. A car horn blares in the background, muffling her voice, and I smile when I hear the annoying yapping of her companion.

  “Really? Any reason you didn’t just call my cell?” I lean over my desk. Her voice has such a profound effect on me, I have to adjust myself. I’d give anything for a pair of loose lounge pants right now instead of my confining suit pants. Fuck, maybe I’ll just change the company dress code policy. As the owner, I’m sure I can do whatever the fuck I please.

  Hashtag… lounge pants.

  “Because you can’t be inappropriate on a company line.” Casey is sassing me and I cluck with disapproval. Little does she know I’m pretty sure my dick is inappropriate right now fully attentive to her voice. Since tasting that sweet pussy of hers, I think I’ll be doing a whole lot more of whatever the fuck I want from now on. I’m completely addicted to this girl.

  “Where are you?” I want to see her. Honestly, I wanted to see her this morning, hair tangled between my fingers, legs parted for my lips to kiss her into submission. However, Casey had other ideas and kicked me out after one night, torturing me with refusing to answer my calls or texts the past week. I don’t think this is a case of regrets, but I’m determined to figure out what the heck is going on in her head.

  “Behave, James.” A pant comes through the phone and I hear her breathy shushing of the dog.

  “Come to the office.” I’m determined to have my way.

  “No.”

  “Are you afraid to see me?” I listen to her hesitation. Bingo.

  “Of course not.”

  “Liar.”

  “Hmmmph. James, I–”

  “Okay, so you won’t come to the office to occupy my very empty lap at the moment. Let me come to you.”

  “No.”

  “Casey, why the hell are you calling me if you don’t want to see me? Obviously, something is going on with you. Tell me what it is.” Growling into the phone, I’m pissed at my own inability to control myself around her. I know something is wrong, but she won’t tell me what it is, and now I’m pissed off with worry.

  “I just… I guess I wanted to hear your voice, but you’re bordering on crazy, so I need to go now. Good bye.” Hearing her hang up, I place the receiver down gently when what I really want to do is fling it across the room in frustration and the last thing I need is a pesky office PA barging in to help. I thought getting between her thighs would be a repeat experience. A given. Now I’m fighting with giving her space instead, and making a tactical retreat.

  11

  Casey

  Tapping the phone against my forehead, I sigh, slipping it back into my pocket. “Okay, I know Charlie. I was being girly and needy.” My furry companion, Charlie dances back and forth on his leash, yipping.

  Taking a deep breath, I admit that I called James to hear his reassuring voice. The run-in with Devin freaked me out, but I don’t want to get James involved. It’s not his place to protect me. He’s already running interference on the weirdo sending me shit at the station which has been reported to the police with no leads to go on. Devin inadvertently triggered my anxiety over it, that’s all. Even if James means well, it’s misguided and at times overbearing. The last thing I need to be doing is encouraging him to jump in as my
rescuer. It’s not fair to James, especially if I’m going to be maintaining a professional distance, or trying to at least. Mixed messages are not cool.

  Glancing up, I look at the sleek apartment building in front of me. Tall grey metal and stone block out the sunlight. Wind barrels down the sidewalk, chilling everything in its way. I actually was in the neighborhood, which is why I called the office number. I wanted to make sure that’s where James was so the temptation was removed from me altogether. I would never enter his building, his home uninvited. Windows on the first floor showcase a large security desk in the foyer, and fountains bubble in a mock lounge atmosphere for the rich to frolic and play. Definitely not my scene.

  More excited barking comes from my companion as a large dog passes on the sidewalk. The owner is looking down at me and pulling the overly-friendly dog away. Charlie strains on the leash I’m holding, so I’m forced to follow suit or be dragged by fifteen pounds of annoyance. “Come on, Charlie. Back home we go you vicious little beast.” I tug gently. Once the dog has turned the corner, Charlie gives up with a pathetic whine. I whine internally myself. My body wants James, but my mind resists, and my heart’s jury is still out.

  The next building over is my stop. It’s a little less of everything compared to James’ building, but the woman who owns Charlie pays me well and has referred me to several other new clients, so even if she’s a Grade A bitch, I can’t discount that she’s kept me out of dire straits with my own meager finances. “Bitches be paying” repeats in my mind like a rap song I wouldn’t normally get to play on my show. Something about FCC rules and regulations I have to obviously follow. Censorship was a real drag sometimes.