Operation G-Spot

by Jodi Lynn Copeland

  Minutes ago Fiona had been sure she’d never make it another second without Simon’s hands on her body, his tongue buried in her mouth. The arrival of the food had faded her lust a little. Just enough that she could enjoy introducing Simon to the taste-bud-tantalizing delights of her heritage. After describing each dish in detail, she loaded their plates with a little of everything while he opened the wine she’d ordered to go with the meal and poured them each a glass.

  She took several bites of food, moaning over the way each separate ingredient exploded on her tongue. Washing the food down with a drink of wine, she watched Simon attack his food with gusto, emitting moans of his own. Had hers sounded as provocative? Every sound out of his mouth sent a new shiver of need coursing through her, until her blood was back to its earlier boil and her pussy so damp it was liable to leave a permanent stain on the seat.

  Thinking he needed a bit of his own medicine, Fiona had a few more bites of the main entrees and then turned to dessert. She pulled the goblet of tiramisu toward her. “You know everything about me, from what you said the other night. Tell me about you.”

  The words had the desired effect; they lifted his attention from his food to her face. She skimmed her finger along the top of the tiramisu, coating the digit with chocolate as light as air and kissed with the rich flavor of mocha underlain with sweet liquor. She pulled her finger into her mouth, suckling it long after the heavenly dessert was gone.

  Some of the heat had died from Simon’s eyes as he ate; it returned now, igniting them to that mesmerizing shade of smoke. “I lead a very boring existence.”

  She laughed. “Somehow I can’t see that. What about your parents? Do you have them, or were you hatched on a rock?”

  “I have them.”

  “And?”

  “And they’re alive and well. How’s the tiramisu?”

  “Succulent.” She sank her finger into the dish again, savoring it just as slowly as the last time, moaning her bliss aloud. “Closes up at the mention of family,” she said as she went back for more of the delectable dessert. “Interesting.”

  “You a shrink now, too?”

  His expression was teasing, but something in his tone didn’t sound amused. “It’s part of my job to read people, know whether they’re lying or not.”

  “I’m not too shabby at it myself.” His mouth curved in a naughty smile. “Right now you’re wishing I’d stop eating food and start eating your pussy.”

  Fiona’s cunt gave a throb. She shifted on the chair, rubbing her tingling thighs together. “Wow. You are good at that.”

  Simon pushed his plate back and stood, extending his hand. She took it, assuming he would lead her to the bedroom. Instead he guided her to the door. “It’s almost seven. I’m going to be here any second. You’d better be ready.” He opened the door and slipped out into the hallway.

  Realizing the game he played, she laughed anxiously. It was ridiculous to feel so excited at the prospect of him opening the door to find her half-dressed and wet with need when he’d not only watched her put the teddy on but she’d worn it all through dinner. Fiona shook with excitement all the same.

  She jumped with his rap on the door. Remembering she was supposed to be the one in control, she took a quick calming breath, then asked, “Who is it?”

  “Simon. I hope I’m not late. I ran into traffic on the way over.”

  She opened the door a couple inches, peering out at him. “Just checking to make sure it’s you.” Amusement lit his eyes, and she almost laughed again. Holding on to the humor, she opened the door the rest of the way and grabbed for him. Fisting his shirt in her hand, she yanked him inside the suite, closing the door with her foot. His breath rushed out on a gasp as she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him up against the wall.

  They both knew what was about to happen, but he seemed as excited by her actions as she was. His pupils dilated; his eyelids drooped. “What are you doing?” he asked innocently.

  “Fucking you. Stand still and let me.”

  With a hiss of his zipper, she had her hand in his pants. His cock leapt into her fingers, huge and hard, and her mouth watered in a way that put her response to the heavenly tiramisu to shame. Going to her knees, she withdrew his erection from his pants and ran her tongue over the weeping tip, greedily licking at the precum.

  He groaned and she looked up at him. “Do you like to be sucked, Simon?”

  “No.”

  Fiona lost character with the word. “No?”

  Humor shone in his eyes. “It disgusts me when a woman puts my dick in her mouth.”

  Oh. The answer had been part of the game. For a second there she thought he was the only man alive who didn’t love getting head. She fell back into character, narrowing her eyes at him in a punishing glare. “Then you shouldn’t have been so bad, because that’s exactly where yours is going. Put up a fight and I’ll draw it out all night.”

  Simon fell out of character to give her an elated look. “Really?”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Only if you want me to implode on the carpet.”

  Clearly he didn’t, as he gripped the base of his shaft and guided it back to her lips. She took him in gladly, thrilling in his rich masculine scent as she licked the length of his dick. He pushed his pants and briefs down his hips, and his balls sprang free, brushing against her chin. She used her hands on them, petting their heavy weight while she sucked his cock with skills honed by wasting her time screwing too many men who didn’t mean a thing to her, in the hopes that one of them would be her Simon. But, of course, one never was. Not until two nights ago.

  Fiona couldn’t change the past, so she saw that Simon derived the most pleasure possible in the present. Cradling his ball sac in her hand, she licked over the rough pink flesh and then pulled a nut into her mouth, suckling it with a force meant to bring him to the brink fast.

  He groaned. His hands clamped down on her shoulders, his fingers pressing painfully into her skin. “Unless you want your hair full of cum, I suggest you quit.”

  “I’d like it in my mouth, thanks.”

  Taking his cock back into her mouth, she milked him with the force of her lips, clamping down a little more with each thrust, until the slick slide of his shaft turned to an uneven pump and grind. Using one hand at the base of his cock, she moved the other between her legs, driving two fingers into her pussy through the hole in the crotch of the teddy. She murmured a cry of pleasure with the entry. Simon’s fingers once more dug into her skin, his cock jumping between her lips. Seconds later, his shout of release shook through her as a delectable quiver that had her fingers driving upward in a hard thrust that summoned her own orgasm. Riding on the wave of climax, she swallowed his cum to the last drop, then licked the tip of his cock clean.

  His eyes dark with passion and his breathing shallow, he pulled her to her feet. “You weren’t kidding about that blow job being the best ever.”

  Thankful for his arms since her legs weren’t feeling any too stable, Fiona laughed. “And just think, we still have the parts to act out where you watch me finger myself and you tackle me into bed and fuck me until neither of us can remember our names.”

  5

  Fiona curled into Simon’s body, not wanting to open her eyes and acknowledge morning had arrived. Last night had been incredible. Anything but average.

  She took pride in her ability to stand on her own two feet financially. She’d never cared if she had a man in her life on a permanent basis. Cuddling had never been her thing, and while small talk was nice, she could do it with girlfriends or relatives. Or so she’d always believed all that stuff. After another helping of tiramisu, more of which ended up on their bodies than in their mouths, and two more amazing rounds of sex, both of which ended with her climaxing like she’d been doing it her whole life, she’d eagerly curled into Simon’s arms and they’d talked until she’d fallen asleep. If he’d been secretive about his family at first, it had to have been merely because he’d had his
mind on sex, because the second time she’d asked, he’d offered the information freely. They’d discussed most everything but his job and that only because it hadn’t come up. Whenever he woke, she would ask about it.

  Or maybe he was already awake, Fiona thought an instant later when Simon brushed his mouth along the back of her shoulder, stubble tickling her nerves to awareness. The hand that had held her through the night moved from her waist to slip between her legs. Two fingers pushed into her intimate folds and caressed her clit. Pleasure built slowly, sweetly, cascading warmth through Fiona until orgasm washed over her in a blissful wave of release far gentler than anything she’d experienced last night. In some ways it was much more enjoyable.

  Returning his hand to her waist, he nuzzled her ear. “Good morning.”

  Shivering as delightful sensations rippled through her, she grinned. “It most certainly is. If I woke up that way every day, I’d have to quit my job. Somehow I don’t think a smiling-like-a-loon defense attorney would go over well.”

  Simon quit nuzzling to roll her onto her back. In a serious voice, he asked, “Would you really quit your job?”

  “Of course not. I love being a lawyer. There’s not a lot of laughs in it, but there’s nothing quite like the high of winning a case.”

  For a second she thought she saw anger pass through his eyes, but obviously it was only her imagination as he gave her a suggestive smile and tweaked her nipple. “Nothing at all?”

  Laughing, Fiona squirmed under his touch, new heat building in her sex. “Nothing other than that.”

  He tweaked her other nipple and then lifted his hand away to pull her back up against him and lazily stroke her hip. Disappointment reared its head, but she tried not to be too upset. He’d given her more orgasms in the last fifteen hours than all her other lovers had managed combined. Then there was the fact that it was still early. They had the room for three more hours, and after that their apartments were only a quick walk away from each other.

  They had the rest of their lives for pleasure. Except for the fifty to sixty hours she had to dedicate to the law firm each week. What about his job? “What do you do?”

  “I thought you knew.” Simon sounded more pleased than surprised that she knew nothing about his career. He hesitated before saying, “I write and illustrate comic books.”

  “You work for kids. How refreshing.” She hadn’t lied about loving her job or the thrill of winning a case for a client she believed was innocent. Winning cases for those clients she felt were guilty and who she worried about walking free on the streets left her cold. Then there were those cases she had to take on as part of her responsibility with the law firm. She’d much rather bring joy to a child than deal with a reluctant and often belligerent client.

  The soothing slide of Simon’s hand along her hip stopped. He released her and rolled out of bed, quickly tugging on the clothes he’d worn yesterday. Then he’d looked handsome. Now he looked rumpled, but surprisingly not in a bad way. Rather sexy. She didn’t want him going out for coffee looking like that.

  Was that jealousy talking? She never would have believed herself the type.

  He started for the bedroom door without a word, grabbing his small suitcase before disappearing into the suite’s main room.

  Fiona’s thoughts of jealousy died while her stomach clamped down on an immediate sense of dread. Coffee didn’t require a suitcase. She tossed back the covers and jumped out of bed, hurrying into the main room. He was already at the door. “Where are you going?”

  Without looking back, he reached for the doorknob. “Home to work.” The chill in his voice sent a shiver through her. “The kids are anxious for the next issue of Small-Minded.”

  Was that supposed to be some kind of cut? She would be the first to admit she could be small-minded, but she hadn’t been with him. Had she? “Simon?” He turned back, malice clear in his eyes. She resisted taking a step back by reminding herself she didn’t get intimidated. Though, with that glare, he would have made a formidable attorney. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “Not at all, Fiona. You fulfilled my expectations perfectly.”

  Liz: You around, Fi?

  Fiona stared at the Instant Messenger box. She’d logged on to her computer to conduct research for a case. The ache in her belly that surfaced the moment the chat window popped up told her to ignore Liz. Her need to share what happened with Simon wouldn’t allow it. Even if the night had meant nothing more than sex to him, her Simon wouldn’t have left the way he had unless something serious was wrong. If she hadn’t been naked, she would have chased after him and demanded an answer. Or maybe she wouldn’t have, since he only lived across the courtyard and she’d been dressed the majority of the three days since he’d walked out on her and she’d yet to run over there and demand an answer.

  Ignoring her bellyache and the sense of foreboding that accompanied it, she started typing.

  Fiona: I’m here. What’s up?

  Liz: Do you know what your guy does?

  Fiona: He’s not my guy and yes. He makes comics.

  Liz: X-rated suspense comics about a female serial killer who gets her kicks by fucking men and then snuffing them out. I thought his name sounded familiar when you mentioned it. The latest issue of Hell Bent came in the mail yesterday, and it clicked where I knew him from. You need to check the series out, Fi.

  Fiona: You read porn?

  Liz: It isn’t porn; it’s erotic suspense and I’m telling you, you need to check Hell Bent out. Pay attention to the villainess.

  Fiona: Fine. I’ll check it out. I’m sure Wild Honey carries it. I have to get some research for a case wrapped up now, but I promise to pick up a copy first thing in the morning.

  Liz: Don’t forget. And don’t see Simon again until you do.

  “How’s your girlfriend? I was hoping we’d get to meet her today.”

  Jonah groaned at his mother’s question. He’d managed to forestall sharing Sunday dinner with his parents, but when they’d showed up at his place with dinner in tow tonight, he could hardly tell them no. “I don’t have a girlfriend, Ma. I told you that.”

  His dad gave him a disapproving look. “You best not be sleeping with women off the street. All the diseases floating around these days, you just can’t risk it for a few seconds of pleasure.”

  “Jonah!” his mother shrieked. “You better not be sleeping with some trashy hooker. She finds out how much you make in a year and she’ll be winding up pregnant and expecting you to marry her.”

  And this was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to spend time with his parents. He’d always looked forward to their visits, but then Fiona had come along and screwed things up just the way he knew she would. Guilt slammed him in the gut with the thought and had him barking out, “For Christ’s sake, I’m not sleeping with a hooker.”

  His dad looked heavenward. “Thank the Lord.”

  “She’s a lawyer.” Jonah clamped his mouth shut around the word. Why had he said that? It had to be the guilt.

  The hurt look Fiona had given him just before he walked out on her had haunted him for days. She deserved it for the way she responded to learning what he did for a living. Of course he hadn’t told her exactly what he did—he wasn’t about to risk her picking up an issue of Hell Bent and recognizing herself. But he might as well have told her that he cleaned shit pits for a living, the tone of her voice had been so amused.

  With her insane toenails and her throaty laughs, he’d allowed her to get to him. And that had been an asinine thing to do. She was a moneygrubbing, blood-sucking lawyer, not someone who gave a damn about the rest of humanity, let alone some guy she’d randomly made her playmate for a few days. It wouldn’t be any more than that. He’d already taken too big a chunk out of his self-respect by wanting her so damned bad and giving in with hardly any fight.

  “Does she know about what happened with Lisa?” his mom asked, looking like she was torn between being thrilled and being stunned with his admission.


  “No, and she won’t. It’s just about sex and it’s over anyway.”

  She frowned. “This isn’t like you.”

  “I doubt many kids talk to their parents about their sex lives.” Jonah purposefully misunderstood her. Fiona had given his mom hope by leaving her shoes outside his door. He refused to fan that hope any higher.

  “That’s not what I meant,” she continued, unfazed. “You like this girl. I can tell.”

  “She’s a woman, and no.” He’d been roped in by her quirks, stuck with fantasies about her from all the times he’d witnessed her masturbating and having sex, but he didn’t like her.

  He shot his dad a “help me” look. His father didn’t look any more interested in changing the subject than his mother, but he stayed true to the man code and gave in. “You been keeping up with the Tigers, Jonah? Pudge is on another homer streak.”

  Perfect. Sports talk. A guaranteed way to drive his mother out of the kitchen and away from talk of Fiona. The enemy, who deserved everything she’d gotten thrown her way, and he wasn’t going to feel guilty about it a second longer.

  Leather felt like shit riding up the crack of her ass, Fiona decided as she stalked across the apartment common area. More than one person stopped to do a double-take over her getup. She sneered back at them, cracking her whip and laughing maniacally over their reaction.

  Oh, but she was saving a few laughs for Simon. The asshole.

  The elevator to the fourth floor seemed to crawl today, and she spent the entire trip letting her temper build. She still couldn’t believe the size of his balls. When they’d been in her mouth, they hadn’t seemed that ungodly huge. Thanks to Liz, she knew they were, though.

  The elevator pinged, announcing her arrival on the fourth floor. Fiona stepped off, grinning over the thought that Simon’s balls were about to get a whole lot smaller. When she reached his door, she didn’t bother with the doorbell or the old-fashioned approach of knocking but turned the knob and let herself in. She didn’t see him immediately, so she shouted for him. “If you still want your balls attached when I leave, get your sorry ass out here now!”