by Imani King
“Damn, boy. Don’t do this to me.” She put her hands over her face. “I thought I was over this fever!”
I unbuckled my jeans and slipped them off. I stepped to Gabi and brought her hand to my cock. It stiffened under her long, elegant fingers. In the months since we’d moved to Berkeley, she’d gained even more confidence, learning how to please me with her hands, her sweet, soft tongue. She grabbed me and stroked me through my briefs, slipping the fingers of her other hand in the waistband and pulling them down. Increasing her speed, she worked my cock, her fingers soft and velvety, her skin cool.
“Oh God, Gabi,” I groaned. She moved her thumb over the head of my cock again and again, making me pant. She stepped away and pulled off her shirt. Unhooking her bra, she let her breasts fall free. And standing there before me, she circled her small, dark nipples with her fingers, sighing and gasping.
“So this is an anatomy lesson, Red? You going to tell me about the weight and volume of my tits?” She lowered her hands and unhooked her jeans. I brought my hand to my cock and stroked myself. Watching her was the best aphrodisiac I’d ever known. And to think, I could have her whenever I wanted her. I could make her scream out with pleasure, pin her down and taste her sweetness every day. She pulled her panties off with her jeans, even more beautiful than she had been on the night we were first together. I went to her and lifted her onto the kitchen island. She yelped and kissed me, her legs wrapped around my waist.
“That’s a lesson for another time. Right now, let me tell you about tall men. Our anatomy is very particular.” I brought my hand between her legs, and rubbed my fingers on either side of her sex, carefully avoiding her clit. “Fuck, baby, you’re already wet,” I said, licking my lips. “Goddamn.” She moaned, trying to press herself against my hand, but I pushed her away. I moved my finger up and around her clit, barely stroking the edges of it.
“Wha… what about your anatomy? You were going to give me a lesson…” She leaned her head back, her breath catching in her throat. I flicked my finger over her clit. Once, twice, three times. “Ohh, oh God,” she moaned, her voice throaty.
“The thing about tall guys, this is the perfect height—” I slipped the head of my cock inside of her, parting her open and holding myself at the entrance. “For fucking beautiful women.”
Gabriella
Red thrust inside of me all at once, his cock filling me to the hilt. In the past few weeks, I’d gotten used to his size. But every time he pushed his cock inside of me, I felt stretched to the brink, like he might break me. It was like that fear I’d had when I first came home to Los Angeles—that I’d fall in love with the danger of life there, that I’d get addicted to it. Well, I had. But it wasn’t in the form I’d expected.
“You like that, beautiful?” I bit my lip and tightened my thighs around his waist. Red’s hips rocked against mine, moving in agonizingly slow circles. His movements were slight at first, building in intensity with each small thrust. Hitting against my clit with each thrust, he ignited the spark of hot desire in my body.
“Yeah,” I moaned, trying to rock closer to him.
“Be a good girl and let me make you come. No impatience, baby. Trust me.” Pulling back, he rammed into me hard and grabbed my hips. I put my arms behind me and watched as he filled me again and again. My sex pulsed, wanting more, needing more, begging to be filled like only he could do. “Gabi, baby, you’re so wet.” His voice rasped, full of lust. He buried himself deep inside, his hips meeting mine, each thrust meeting my clit and sending hot waves of pleasure through my thighs and into my belly.
“Oh God, Red,” I whimpered. It was all too much, too perfect, and I didn’t want to come yet.
“Touch yourself for me, Gabi,” he said. He slowed his pace and raised one hand to my breast, palming it, tracing his fingers over my nipples. Little shocks seared through my nervous system, creating a perfect circle of arousal. I almost couldn’t respond, couldn’t will myself to move from my position. But I loved to obey Red, loved for him to watch me. I lowered my hand to my pussy, finding the button of my clit, the space between our bodies tight and hot. I stroked myself, and the pressure inside of me rose until it could no longer be denied. “You want to come for me baby?”
“Yes, please.” My voice was barely a whisper. He started fucking me again, his movements so drawn out that the world seemed to be going in slow motion around me.
“Not just yet,” he said. Raising one hand, he gripped me hard on the waist. I thought for a moment, through the haze of lust, about the past months of my life. Before Red, I’d never met a man that made me want this. And before him, I’d never wanted a real relationship. We had put each other in danger. Our romance had been a whirlwind, but in the end, we’d saved each other.
Red increased his speed, thrusting with a rhythm so natural that it feels like we’re thinking with one mind, our bodies fused in perfect harmony. I pressed my fingers into my clit, and each movement of Red’s body came down against my hand, bringing me higher and higher until I’m lost in sensation. The coil inside of me tightened, needy, desperate, on edge.
“Please,” I begged, as he pumped into me faster, his body tensing in time with my own. “Please, Red, let me come.”
“Come on my cock, Gabi.” His words were dirty, but they came out with aching, gentle sexiness. If it were six months before, I would have blushed hard, and my body would have frozen completely. But in that moment, with Red, I knew I could open my body, my heart, release myself fully with him. The coil tensed to its peak, and I pulled my hand away from my clit.
“Oh fuck,” I groaned. I came, closing my eyes, fire and light exploding through my mind, and then slower, winding through every inch of my body. The orgasm centered on the length of Red’s cock, filling my pussy again and again, but it shattered through me in rambling waves, everywhere all at once. A whimper escaped my throat, desperate, unconscious, and I cried out. I tensed around his cock, closing my eyes. He pumped into me harder, slamming into my body again and again, losing the slow, controlled movements he’d teased me with before.
“I love you, Gabi. I do,” he said. He groaned and thrust hard inside me once more, coming deep inside.
“And I love you.” I closed my eyes again and caught my breath. The wounds of the past would still cut deep, but at least I’d have someone who would help heal them, once and for all. Before I told Red I love him the first time, I hadn’t said that to anyone in years. I’d certainly never shared any closeness with my father, and with my mother, her happy times were few and far in between. When I opened my eyes, I found Red’s gaze locked on mine.
“From the moment I saw you,” he said, “I was caught in your spell, Gabi. I never knew it would all happen so fast, but I’m damn glad it did.” I laughed, the sound ringing out through the kitchen.
“You go quick from dirty to sweet.”
“Just the way you like it,” he said.
“Yeah, I guess I do. Especially the sappy romance part. I was always a sucker for happy endings.”
Red kissed me again, covering my mouth with his.“A real Hollywood romance. Is that what we are?”
“More like Northern Cali at this point, but that’s the way I like it.” I looked around. This was the house he’d finally spent money on, bought for a life filled with happiness, a life that let him move on from the dark secrets of his past. He lifted me and put me down on the floor, and I walked toward the shower, feeling his gaze on my body.
“I’m hoping to give you another anatomy lesson soon,” he said. I looked back at him and watched as he opened a fresh pack of gum. It was a silly habit, but one he’d formed when he quit smoking three weeks ago. There was a simple beauty in that gesture—now his life was focused on the little things that would make both of us happy.
This was the freedom we’d both craved for so long, finally free of the weight of our lives.
And how beautiful it was.
MORE FROM IMANI KING
If you liked My Billionaire H
itman, you’ll love Scandalous. Read on for an excerpt…
September 7, 2016
Eight Weeks until Election Day
“How did you talk me into working for the Reynolds campaign again? I’m not this type of woman!” I laughed out loud as I followed Kelly Hernandez, one of the best campaign managers in DC. Connected, brilliant, and beautiful, Kelly had managed to pull me away from my steady job at The Washington Foundation for Internships—and onto the campaign trail. She grabbed my hand and pulled me up to the line in front of Rye, one of the hippest bars in the city. And the place where all the most connected politicians came to unwind.
“Because you are the brand new outreach director for the Reynolds campaign in Virginia! The only candidate who stands a chance against Janice Howell! And an independent to boot! He’s insane for starting so late in the race, but I just know he can win it.” I laughed and followed Kelly into the bar, her flouncing pink skirt leading me like a beacon into a new life.
“Damn, I’m never here for happy hour. Shit’s crowded, Kell.”
“That’s because of the news. People are hearing about this last minute addition to the Virginia race, and the town is all abuzz. We’ll grab a table and maybe meet someone who knows something about what Greg Reynolds is doing. He is our brand new boss.” She grabbed me by the suit jacket and pulled me to a table near the window, motioning wildly for a server. As with every movement she made, Kelly was immediately noticed. A server came our way and threw two drink menus on the table before trying to run off to another customer.
“We’ll have two blackberry GNTs. Thank you,” Kelly shouted, reaching out to tap the server on the arm. He nodded, annoyed, and went off behind a busy bar lined with blue and khaki-clad lobbyists and perhaps even a congressman or two.
“Don’t you already know all the secrets there are in this city?”
“Well, the ones worth knowing, my dear Sonia.” She looked over my gray linen summer suit and gently tugged on my sleeve again. “You know, darling, on the campaign trail, you might need some new threads.” I laughed. She was never one to hesitate when it came to telling me about fashion. “I can call Carolina Herrara for a suit or two. Even a gala gown.”
“Kell, the last thing on my mind right now is my wardrobe. I just ran out of my office in the middle of the day—”
“Darling, it’s 5:30 in the afternoon. It’s hardly the middle of the day. Besides, your work days are about to get a whole lot longer, and a whole lot more interesting.” All around us, the bar was abuzz with chatter. I couldn’t make out what was being said, but I did hear the name “Reynolds” every few words, just as Kelly had predicted.
“I hear Reynolds has some kind of vendetta against Janice Howell,” Kelly said. “He’s desperate not to see her win. That much is clear from what he’s told me. It’s not just the politics with him, which is so curious. He really thinks she’s malicious, and that his bid is the only moral thing he can do. He’s a billionaire from his family name, of course, and no one in this town knows of him. There’s barely a picture of him on the internet. Unknown. But my connections tell me he can win, and we’re going to help him do it.”
“Oh my god, Kelly, what have I gotten myself into?” I wondered just how glad my boss would be if I waltzed back to the Washington Foundation that moment and went right back up to my hot, dark office.
“You’ve gotten yourself into an exciting election season.” The bored-looking waiter delivered our drinks, and I immediately started sipping, savoring the bubbles of the tonic and the slight sweetness of blackberries mixed with mint. The Southernness of DC sometimes amused me, even though I’d been raised as a Southern girl myself. The alcohol began its work in my body, loosening my muscles and taking away some of the anxiety I felt about the whole leaving-my-job situation. It wasn’t a thing I did. None of it was a thing I did — only for Kelly, the one politico I’d loved working with when we were both fresh, green, and canvassing for Obama’s first election. “Now just sip your drink, darling, and let all of your problems fade away. Tomorrow, we tackle the Reynolds campaign and meet with him in person. And while you’re sipping, listen to the golden gossip that’s falling all around us. It’s gold for the job we’re about to do… and that’s getting this good man in office.”
I did as Kelly said, angling my body toward the bar so that I could hear more of the conversations drifting around us. I nursed my drink, downing it a bit faster than usual.
I hear he’s the silent owner of Reynolds Metals. You know, the tin foil people. He had a billion dollar deal and…
Kelly winked at me. She’d heard the same thing. She waved at the waiter and he brought us another round of GNTs. I hastily finished my first, the alcohol buzzing in my body and seeming to heighten my senses. It was incredible, being here with this truly exciting, brilliant woman on the eve of our big break so late in the campaign season.
Janice Howell isn’t pleased. In fact, she’s fucking livid. There’s some kind of past there, and she knows that he can…
Yeah, she’s a beast alright, but she has the ear of the Minority Whip, and she gets shit done in the Republican Party when no one else…
“It’s all around you darling, the rich backstory that will make this campaign so special. I’d never in a million years thought that I’d get to work on something as exciting as this. And I was so surprised when Reynolds called me. I’ve worked on senate campaigns, but none as high profile as his. And none as contentious.” I sipped the sweet drink, probably far faster than I should have, especially for a lightweight drinker like I was. But it felt good. And Kelly was right. Reynolds and Howell were the talk of the town, and in a swing state like Virginia, the campaign was bound to get heated. The bodies at the bar were all leaning into each other, mouths whispering in ears, with occasional furtive glances thrown over their shoulders. Save for one.
Curious. A man sitting by himself at the end of the bar, just staring into his drink. He had salt-and-pepper hair, broad shoulders, and a straight, firm jawline. There was something about his very presence that commanded, authority and respect. As I studied him, I saw the power contained in that firm, tall body. A shock ran through my system. Why was such a handsome man sitting by himself, and just staring into his drink? There was no reason for it. A thrill ran through me as I watched him from afar. He turned, as if he could that someone was watching him. His midnight blue eyes cut through the crowd, focusing on me for one moment. First I’d quit my job, and then a man—an attractive man— had noticed me. I gulped and looked back down at my drink. When I looked up, the man was looking at the bartender again.
“Fine, Kelly. You had me sold the minute you walked in today. You know I live for this.” My eyes darted over to the man in the corner again. Just what was he thinking when everyone else in here was talking about the Reynolds and Howell rivalry? Maybe he was one of those rare tourists that wandered into Rye and got lost in the politico crowd. Those eyes though… I hadn’t felt anything like that for years.
“I did. I did know it. I’ve been waiting for something like this.” The waiter cleared our drinks and brought us another round. I was beginning to feel lightheaded and pushed away the third GNT, running my fingers over the cool water condensing on the glass. The bar was growing more and more crowded, and Kelly got up to stand at the bar, pulling me along with her. I gripped my drink and followed, lost in the swarm of gossip and pondering. The buzz in the air was nothing like what I felt at the Washington Foundation, not even during our own gala season. Yes, this is what I lived for. It was what I’d been waiting for. I glanced again at the man sitting at the end of the bar, taking another sip of my drink. Kelly had already inserted herself into conversation with two politicos who had no idea how important she was. She could put on the good girl glitz in a moment, and she already had them hooked. She’d have the whole campaign figured out by morning, and she’d probably have Janice Howell in her grip.
I set my drink down and walked towards the bathroom, flicking my eyes toward the
man. His deep, midnight-blue eyes caught mine for a moment, and I felt that shock again. I put my hand over my heart and walked along to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Those eyes… something in them was deeply sad. But beautiful, just so beautiful. I fell against the wall and pulled my fingers through my hair, the black curls an unruly mass in my fingers.