by Colet Abedi
He turns to face me, the look on his face intense. “Come and get it.”
I realize I’m still standing where he left me.
I haven’t even moved an inch. His eyes meet mine challengingly. If I step forward and take the drink, this will be it. This man will take my virginity and introduce me to passion; of that I have no doubt.
Or I can chicken out and save myself for a future boyfriend.
Yeah, not so much.
I walk toward him, boldly meeting his gaze. My decision seems to relax him, and he gives me another one of his sexy smiles. He hands me my drink, and we clink glasses. Both of us are quiet.
I turn so that he sees my profile, and I notice how he stares at me in an almost territorial way. I feel the heat from his gaze like he’s physically touching me. It feels like minutes go by as he looks me up and down, studying me like a piece of art.
“Why did you come here?” he suddenly asks.
I look at him. “No personal questions.” My voice is firm, surprisingly calm.
He cocks his head to the side.
“It’s not personal,” he says arrogantly. “I don’t care about who you are outside of this room. All I want to know is how you like it.”
My heart slams in my chest.
I feel the heat rise to my face, and I try to remain calm, but it’s too hard. As much as I want to be blasé about sex, I’ve never done it before. I’ve imagined it. I’ve fantasized about it. I’ve masturbated to it. But I’ve never actually done it.
He notices my apprehension.
He takes my drink out of my hand and places it on the bar. Then mystery man steps in front of me, his tall, powerful body invading my space.
The sexual tension is so tangible; it could light the club on fire.
“Wild?” His voice sounds almost tender, but I know I must be imagining that.
I look up at him.
“How do you like it?” I counter, turning the tables on him.
His smile is slow, sure. “Every which way.”
My stomach clenches.
“Then you pick,” I whisper, almost teasingly. I’ve never been one to be afraid of anything, and I’m not about to start now.
He steps into my space. His arm reaches around my body, and his hand cups my ass and pulls me up to his cock.
“Slow, first.” His voice is raspy, his mouth against my ear. “Like a dance, while I get to know your body. And then fast, hard, to make sure you feel me tomorrow and remember the way I fuck you when you go about your everyday life.”
I’m soaking wet.
I practically moan in longing as my hand moves on its own accord, pressing against his rock-hard abs.
“And then wild, like your name,” he says, and I fall into his strong embrace. “Like an uncontrollable storm, frenzied, beautiful, and perfect.”
Now.
I didn’t realize I said the word out loud, but he heard me, and he doesn’t disappoint. His hands cup my ass and pull me close to accommodate his large cock.
“I want to taste you now,” he commands.
I lift my face to his, and for a second, we lock eyes.
“You must be a fucking witch,” he growls before cupping my face in both his large hands and bringing those sensuous lips of his down to mine.
Time stands still.
It’s more than electric. It’s fucking cosmic. It’s like I’ve been dying to taste these lips my whole life.
His mouth moves over mine slowly, as he promised. His lips brush against mine softly, torturously, until he finally deepens the kiss, and his tongue finds mine. It’s like a slow dance, erotic and leisurely, like we’re on a first date. My hands move up his rock-hard chest before encircling his neck. The kiss deepens as he captivates my senses with his erotic storm.
I feel his hands move down the length of my body, over my ass, and along the fabric of my dress before moving back up and finding the zipper again. He unzips the dress slowly, and before I know it, the back is open and the straps fall loosely down. The top of my dress is barely covering my nipples.
He robs me of his mouth and puts a few inches between us. We’re both panting with longing, our eyes locked. He moves his hands to my bare shoulders and oh so slowly pulls down my dress. I feel the cool air on my naked breasts hardening my nipples. He keeps his gaze locked on mine until my dress falls to a heap at my feet.
All I’m wearing is a black lace thong and black high heels. I’ve never felt more exposed or sexy in my entire life.
“Step back,” he commands, his eyes bright with desire. “I want to look at you.”
I do as I’m told.
I watch as his eyes trail a path from my face to my breasts and down the length of my legs to my feet before they move back to meet my gaze.
“You’re fucking beautiful.”
I’m so turned on, I think I’ll die if he doesn’t do the erotic things he just promised.
I want to see him as naked as I am. “Take your—”
“You’re not in control, Wild,” he says sharply, shaking his head. “This is my game. My rules. My speed.”
If anything, that turns me on even more. My breath hitches when he takes a step toward me.
“What did I tell you?” he whispers. “Slow, hard, and wild. That’s the game we’re playing tonight. That’s the speed we’re going. Do you understand?”
I can only nod.
“Good,” he says. “Now slowly take your panties off.”
Oh, fuck.
My hands tremble as I take hold of the top of my lacy thong and slide it down my hips before letting them fall at my high-heeled feet. I start to lift my heel out of my shoe.
“Leave them on,” he commands.
I stop and stare at him. My heart races while he takes another long lingering look at my body.
“Now turn around and walk to the bed,” he says.
I take in a deep breath and do as I’m told. When I reach the edge of the bed, I stop. My hands clench at my sides as I try to remain calm. My every sense is now hyperaware. I can feel him staring at me.
A complete stranger.
Seeing me naked.
The only man to have ever seen me naked.
A stranger.
“Bend over.”
I shake my head, protesting.
“I can’t—”
“These are my rules.” His voice is like velvet, wrapping around me like a caress. “If you want to play my game, in this room, you do as I say.”
I close my eyes, throwing caution to the wind and do as I’m told. Again. I place my hands on the edge of the bed and lean over. The simple act makes me burn with desire, knowing how exposed I am—to a complete stranger.
A beautiful one.
The most handsome I’ve ever seen.
I hear him inhale sharply, and I feel a surge of satisfaction knowing he’s just as turned on as I am. Within seconds, his hands are on my ass, massaging my skin. I push against the rough fabric of his jeans and rub against his cock. I close my eyes and moan in desire, the friction heating me up quickly, my body craving release.
He lightly slaps my ass. “Don’t move unless I tell you.”
It’s not fair, I want to scream at him. But I don’t. I wait. And I don’t have to wait long. His hand slides down the length of my naked back while his other remains firmly on my ass. He traces my spine until he reaches my core and wastes no time slipping two fingers inside. I moan out loud as I grind my pussy into his hand. It feels so good.
He leans his body over mine, still fully clothed, his mouth against my ear. “You’re so wet for me,” he whispers.
I can’t speak while I concentrate on the pleasure I’m receiving from his fingers. He works me with expertise, knowing where to press, when to stop, when to move in deeper, and when to pull out. I fist the black sheets and throw my head back in ecstasy.
“Yes,” I can barely say as he works me. I move against him, letting him finger-fuck me until I’m screaming my orgasm into the bed.
I’m shaking in the aftermath, barely aware of him flipping me around and moving between my legs. He licks me until I’m on the verge of coming again. His mouth… God, those lips and tongue… they’re magic. He takes care with every fold, expertly licking, sucking, and even blowing until I can’t think again, and another orgasm rocks my body.
I hear him rise from the bed. I open my eyes, satiated but strangely craving those arms and body on top of mine. I watch him pull off his shirt, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from drooling. His body is the stuff of dreams: perfect, chiseled, rock hard. His chest is wide, tanned. His arms are long, muscled, sinewy. And those abs. God, those abs. I want to lick every inch of him. His hands move to unbutton the top of his jeans, and I watch with great fascination.
Within seconds, that large, beautiful cock of his springs free. And it’s everything I thought it would be. My stomach tingles. My insides burn with longing as I lift my knee up, inviting him in.
His emerald eyes stay on mine while he undresses.
I don’t know where he gets the condom from, but he rips it open and puts it on before climbing onto the bed to lean over my body. His hand palms my breast, teasing my nipple before lavishing it with the same attention he gave my pussy only moments before. My body arches up to him, and I rub up against his cock.
“Look at me, Wild,” he says.
And I do. Our eyes lock.
“Slow. Then hard. Then wild,” he promises before he plunges inside, filling me to my core.
There is a moment of discomfort, but then it’s gone. I see a look of shock before I pull his face down to mine, trying to adjust to his size and the feel of him inside.
“Give me what you promised,” I command when he doesn’t move.
It takes a moment, but then he leans down to me and starts to kiss me slowly, sexually. His hands cup my face, and he begins to move carefully, allowing me to get used to the feel of him. It doesn’t take long. I lift my legs and take him deeper inside, then wrap them around his waist. He pumps into me, driving me to the brink. His hands massage my breast as he passionately kisses me, our tongues entwined as he moves in and out.
“Oh my God!” I cry out as he pushes deeper, moving slower, faster, harder until I’m on the precipice of coming again.
My body’s tingling explodes around us. I tremble in ecstasy as I scream into his mouth.
Moments later, I feel his body tense around me before he finds his own release.
I am no longer a virgin.
Chapter Three
“Somebody had a good weekend.”
I smile at Tony, my fellow roommate and studio intern as we organize the mail and scripts before we have to distribute it accordingly to different executives. We are the lowest in the pecking order of the studio—the men and women who do all the runs, get the coffee, make sure everyone has what they need, and basically take all the abuse from the mostly sour-faced Hollywood executives. It’s a humbling job, but to get the best experience in the business, this or working in the mailroom at an agency is a rite of passage, to bigger and better.
“Something like that,” I tell him with a small smile.
I didn’t see Tony when I got home early Sunday morning, and I pretty much slept through the day. Kerri didn’t come back to the house until Sunday night and locked herself in her bedroom. We texted each other to make sure the other was okay and left it at that. I know Kerri had seen me leave with my mystery man, and I sent her a rocket ship emoji when I got home.
And honestly, that pretty much summed up my evening.
Just thinking about the rest of the night and the sex made me start to sweat.
Holy. Almighty Lord. Above. Good. Holy. God.
Sweat.
As he promised, my mystery man gave me the hard after the soft. God, did I get him hard.
An image of his hard cock filling me, pumping into me from behind until I couldn’t stop screaming for him to please never stop, comes to mind.
“I’m waiting?” Tony’s impatient voice breaks into my sinfully amazing reverie.
I’m kind of annoyed he interrupted.
Tony walks up to me and stares me straight in the eye. He’s my height with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. He’s agent handsome. Well groomed. Always put together. Not my speed. And thankfully, I’m not his. So we get along great and already have a brother-sister relationship. He likes to pick on me, and I do the same in return. He’s a person I know will be in my tribe for life.
I meet his gaze and lift a brow. His eyes narrow as he studies me, then they round.
He takes a step back and shakes his head in amazement.
“No shit.”
I feel myself start to blush. No way he can tell.
“You got laid.”
Good God. Is it that obvious?
“Multiple times.”
I look away, mortified.
“More than multiple times.” Tony sounds impressed.
“Tony!” I all but shriek at him, and we look around the giant room filled with a bunch of nosy assistants and interns.
He holds his hands up in defense.
“I mean, I’m surprised. Not that you got laid cause you’re gorgeous,” he says, giving me a backhanded compliment. “But I never took you for the fuck-’em-at-a-crazy-secret-Hollywood-sex-party kind of girl. I’m assuming that’s where it happened because that’s where you guys went on Saturday night. I know this because I saw the invitation hanging out of Kerri’s purse. Along with various drug paraphernalia, but let’s not get into that.”
My mouth is hanging open.
Like horrified, I-want-to-die open. Please-put-a-gun-in-my-mouth-now open.
“I’m dead,” I simply tell him.
“Stop.” He waves his hand at me like we’re talking about something as trivial as the weather. “I’m the coolest guy at this studio now. I’m lucky enough to share a house with you and Kerri, two of the hottest interns who happen to troll weird, underground sex cults.”
“It wasn’t a cult. It was a club,” I whisper in horror. “It isn’t a cult.”
“Oh my God,” he says in excitement. “You’re gonna go back!”
“Please stop talking!” I all but yell at him as I turn bright red.
“You’re going back.” He stares at me in awe.
I look away, unable to meet his gaze. Yes, I am planning on going back, but that’s only because… It’s only because I have to find him. I have to have him one more damn time. But Tony doesn’t need to know that. No one does.
“I’ve gotta go drop these off upstairs.” I grab a pile of scripts just in from the agencies.
“Oh, we’re so talking about this tonight,” Tony says as he points at me. “I’ll bring very cheap wine since it’s all I can afford.”
I can’t help but laugh. Tony refers to the horrendously low salaries interns are required to take. We can barely make ends meet. But even though we struggle, there is a kind of camaraderie in it that binds us all together.
“I’m serious, Wylder,” Tony warns as I take off in the opposite direction. “At the very least I want PG-13 details.”
“Stop talking!” I shout, and some of our coworkers look over at us. I run into the elevator and hit the button to the floor the highest-level execs are on. When the doors open again, I get out quickly and make my way to Henry’s boss’s office. Shockingly, I don’t really care I have to see him today. Since we broke up, I’ve dreaded every time I had to encounter him, but not now.
Now, everything’s changed. I might love my mystery man.
I smile amicably when I reach his desk.
Henry looks up at me and purses his lips, giving me that half smile I used to find sexy. Now I think he looks kind of weird. And maybe a little constipated. He brushes his brassy hair away from his face and, as per usual, looks me up and down.
He stares at my face for a second before shrugging.
“Looking good today, Wylder,” he says, complimenting me, and acts as though he’s given
me the winning lotto ticket.
“Thanks.” I hand the scripts and other mail to him.
I smooth my black, knee-length pencil skirt and wait to see if he needs me to do anything for his jerk of a boss. Yes, he’s a jerk and a walking cliché. He’s the definition of the typical Hollywood executive. The interns refer to him as President DB, a.k.a. President Douche Bag.
“Wanna get out of the office early today?” Henry asks as he crosses his arms. “Go to the ’Bu?”
The ’Bu is short for Malibu. Henry must have hit his head on something this morning.
“With you?” I let him see how much the idea repulses me.
Henry rolls his eyes.
“Unfortunately, you’re not that lucky,” he says with some disdain. “We’ve got a top-secret script in from Darren Weiss. Every director in town is dying to look at it, but his first choice and the studio’s is Jamie Donovan.”
Henry hands me the manila envelope holding the precious script, his voice serious. “You drive to Jamie’s house. You hand the script to him. You sit outside his office, and you wait while he reads. When he’s done, he gives you his answer. If it’s yes, you say thank you and take the script. If it’s no, you say thank you and take the script. No matter what, you take the script.”
He hands me a buck slip with Jamie Donovan’s address.
He stares at me with curiosity. “You don’t look excited.”
“Should I be?” I shrug.
“He’s pretty popular with the ladies,” Henry tells me with a knowing smirk.
“Really? I’ve seen a few of his movies, but don’t know what he looks like,” I say truthfully.
“Well, trust me, you should be thanking me.” Henry goes on, to my annoyance. “I can name a few interns who’d kill to trade places with you.”
“Like Sheila, the one you’re currently dating?” I can’t help but hit him back.
Henry’s face turns red in anger.
“I’ll be sure to report back and let you know what I think,” I say with a sugar-sweet smile and bat my lashes. “If he’s that good looking, I’m sure I’ll be fantasizing about him in no time. I mean seriously, I can’t think of anything hotter than a famous and successful director.”