Caged

by Shanna Ehrlich

  Stepping up to the bar, he pretended to get the bartender’s attention and didn’t give her a second glance. It was when he felt her accidently graze against him, he knew he had her. Turning, he found her looking right at him, pretending to feel bad about invading his personal space.

  “My bad,” she explained, twirling her hair like a half-wit. “I guess these heels and drinking don’t go too well together. I didn’t mean to bump in to you.”

  “Yes you did,” he replied with a lack of expression, keeping his eyes trained on hers. He stepped closer and eliminated most the space between them. “But I don’t think I mind. I’m Braxton,” he reached out a hand and took her dainty fingers in his, “and you are possibly the sexiest girl I’ve seen all night.” That was an outright lie, but he never cared too much about lying to get ass. He just took them home to fuck, he didn’t need to respect them.

  She ran her other hand down his bicep. “Nice to meet you Braxton. I’m Mel.”

  “Want to get out of here Mel?” He indicated toward the door with the tilt of his head.

  “Where are you thinking?”

  “I have a car out front and I live five minutes away. Are you up for it? I promise you won’t be disappointed.” Yet another lie. They always left disappointed because he kicked them out as soon as he finished.

  “Sounds like fun,” she whispered in his ear and with her hand still in his, they turned and left the club.

  When they arrived at Braxton’s penthouse he walked in ahead of her and tossed his keys, wallet and phone on the counter, noticing his maid must have come earlier in the day as the place had a slight lemon scent. Mel followed him into the kitchen and then to the living room.

  Finding the remote he clicked on the fireplace while unbuttoning his belt buckle and removed it from the loops. “Take your clothes off,” he commanded without wasting any time. “I want to see what’s under that dress.”

  Mel did as she was told in her best seductive manor, pushing her tight dress down her body, but it did little for him. She was soon standing in all her glory and the only thing she had going for her were large, natural breasts.

  He walked up, pulling her by both ass cheeks to meet him, and buried his tongue in her mouth. As they kissed he fumbled for a condom out of his back pocket, not sure exactly what he would do with it because his dick still wasn’t hard. Just seeing her in the bar somehow made him hard, but the naked woman in front of him didn’t. He thought about the napkin once more and that finally did it for him.

  Spinning Mel around, he bent her over the couch and just as quick had his dick out, condom on and slammed into her. She wasn’t ready for it, how could she be? His cock would make most men envious and he didn’t do anything to help get things going on her end, but he didn’t care, continuing amongst her grunts. It didn’t take her long to come around though and she met him thrust for thrust.

  “You like that babe? You like fucking my tight little pussy don’t you?” She tried to dirty talk, but Braxton just wanted her to shut the fuck up. He kept going and so did she. “I love how hard you fuck me!” she yelled. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

  Stop was exactly what he did. He pulled out of her as fast as he entered, roughly picked her up from the couch and spun her around while pushing her down to her knees and ripped the condom off. He shoved his dick in her mouth, fucking her face, finally enjoying the quiet except for the occasional gag. He imagined it was the girl from the bar sucking him off and felt his orgasm building.

  “Tell me when,” she broke away to say, but Braxton gripped the back of her head and pushed back in.

  He took her rough, not caring her head knocked into the couch. He was so fucking close. Fisting her hair, he thrust in as far as he could, spilling himself down her throat.

  “What the fuck! I told you to tell me when,” Mel complained, wiping the spit from her lips.

  Braxton shrugged and zipped up his pants which he had barely bothered to pull down. “You liked it.”

  Departing for the kitchen he poured a glass of wine and waited for her to dress before walking back into the living room to find her lounging on the couch.

  “Did you get me one?” She nodded toward the wine glass.

  “I didn’t,” he said point blank. “I actually think it’s time for you to go.”

  “Excuse me?” She sounded shocked. They always do for some reason. What makes them think he would want to spend more than five minutes talking to them after sex, when it took less than that to get them there in the first place?

  “Did I stutter? I said get out. You got what you came for, now leave.” He made a shooing motion toward the exit.

  Picking up her heels, she huffed toward the elevator, not bothering to stop and put them on. “You’re a fucking asshole!”

  “So I’ve heard,” he patronized, relieved she was leaving without putting up much of a fight.

  The next morning Annie woke to a splitting headache. Sharing a room with Trevor, who was still passed out, she fumbled around in the dark toward her suitcase and rummaged through looking for a dear friend of hers. “Hello Aleve,” she quietly mumbled to herself and fished out two.

  She stood from her crouched position, leg muscles protesting from their long night of dancing, and made her way to the bathroom. Water bottles were ungodly expensive so she made do with tap. Filling a short crystal glass, she placed the pills in her mouth and downed the entire cup. Then filled it again and drank another.

  After a scalding hot shower, she felt mildly better. Scurrying through the morning necessities she brushed her teeth, blow dried her hair and went back in the dark room wrapped in a towel to search for clothes. She pulled out light dyed jeans, black Ralph Lauren sandals and what she hopped to be a black tank top, but really any shirt would do. They were just planning to do the tourist thing. She wasn’t worried about looking exceptionally cute.

  Fifteen minutes later Trevor was still sleeping and Mandy and Sara hadn’t made an attempt to call. Annie figured they were still sleeping as well. Being a nice friend she decided to wake them all with a large Starbucks coffee. She had noticed the shop across the street from the hotel when they first arrived. Coffee was her weakness and she was always looking out for the next cup.

  When she walked through the coffee shop doors she was instantly hit with the smell of fresh-brewed beans, and happy to see for a Sunday morning there weren’t too many people in line. It was warm out so she ordered her Trenta coffee on ice and three Venti Frapuccinos for the others, as well as four lemon pound cakes. They were on vacation. Splurging a bit on calories was a necessity.

  “Looks like you’re recovering from a fun night,” said the man behind her.

  Annie couldn’t help but think it was a weird thing to say to someone. Was it really that obvious? Should she have reconsidered not putting on make-up? Turning around she gave the stranger a half smile and then lost it completely when she realized who he was.

  “No one orders a Trenta unless they’re trying to conquer the world or they’re completely hungover. I’m guessing it’s the latter?” He cocked an eyebrow and Annie stood speechless, admiring his gorgeous features. He looked just as she remembered, maybe more so up close and in the light of day.

  After a couple seconds of trying to get her tongue untied, she finally responded. “Just a little,” she lifted her hand up to show the measurement, “but good to know you can only tell by the size of my coffee.”

  “I don’t know you well enough to tell any other way, but if this is what you look like hungover, I can’t wait to see what you look like on a normal day.”

  Her stomach did a little flip flop and once again she was short on words.

  “I’m Brax by the way,” he held out his hand.

  “Bethany.”

  The fake name sprung from her mouth on accident. It was a name she always told guys who hit on her, but she didn’t mean to tell it to this guy, especially after feeling the intense chemistry coursing through her hand and down between her legs
. She never felt anything like this before and had an odd urge to jump on him. Maybe it was a good thing she gave him a fake name.

  “Nice to officially meet you.” He shook her hand while rubbing his thumb along the back, and if it were possible for her heart to beat any faster it did.

  “You too,” she replied, transfixed by the look of her petite hand in his.

  Annie wasn’t a small girl, average would be more like it, but he made her feel small and in the best way possible. His muscles, so well-defined, he looked like he could pick her up and carry her away, could break her in half if he wanted to, but the caress of his thumb told her he wouldn’t.

  “Here you go miss,” the employee behind the counter interrupted their moment to hand Annie the four bagged up pound cakes she had ordered. Hesitantly she released his grasp to place the cakes in her purse. He seemed reluctant to let go too, but maybe it was just her imagination.

  On a whim, Braxton decided to walk to the office that day. It was a fairly long walk and not something he did often, but he needed to clear his head. There was a lot going down that night. He was almost to his office building when he noticed her exiting the hotel. She looked different from the night before, in jeans and her blonde hair down and wild, but he recognized her in an instant. Like a magnet he was drawn to her and lightly jogged to catch up and follow her into the coffee shop.

  He felt confident when he first walked in, but once he was in line, talking to her, he didn’t know what to say other than, can I take you in the bathroom and fuck your brains out, but he didn’t think that would go over very well. Instead, he ran a hand through his long dark hair and waited with her. He didn’t even drink coffee, not often anyway, but he would today. He’d do anything if it meant being near her. It was a strange revelation. He never wanted a girl before, not like this. Pussy was pussy, it didn’t matter where he was getting it, but suddenly it mattered. “Are you here on business or pleasure?” he asked, holding back a cringe at the lame pickup line.

  “I’m with a few friends for vacation this week. How about you? Business or pleasure?”

  “Neither. I live here. Or I guess both if you want to get technical.”

  “Oh. I just assumed since I saw you at the hotel…” she trailed off and inched closer toward the cashier as he answered and moved down with her.

  “Well that was business. My office is just across the street, so I schedule meetings at the hotel often. How long are you here for?”

  “Till Friday.”

  A young preppy cashier worked the register and declared her total. While she reached in her purse for her wallet, Brax leaned in and swiped his own card.

  “I got this.”

  “What? No, you don’t have to do that.”

  “Of course I do. It’s only fair after last night. When a guy gets a blowjob the least he could do is buy the girl breakfast,” he winked and blood rushed to her face.

  “Blow job shot,” she said toward the cashier in defense, and smiled, shaking her head at him. “For future reference, when a guy gets a blowjob does he also announce it so everyone in Starbucks can hear?”

  “Touché,” he responded, laughing deep, yet quiet. “See, now I really do owe you breakfast,” he insisted, while paying for his own drink.

  After Braxton finished paying, he placed his palm on her back and guided her over toward the pickup area. The electricity was still sizzling and he could swear he felt her shiver at his touch. Closer to her now he got a whiff of her perfume and it did nothing to stop his dick from getting harder than it already was. Feeling like a teenage boy he tried subtly to use the counter top to keep it hidden.

  The barista called out their order and Braxton helped Bethany get hers into a carrier. She picked it up carefully and took a few steps toward a nearby table with him following on her heels.

  “Well…” she said looking down, not knowing where to go next with the conversation.

  He didn’t know where to go with it either. This was all new territory for him. He wanted her more than words could say. There was just something about her. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Sure she was good looking, had an ass he could imagine squeezing, and plump lips that would look great wrapped around his cock, but it was more than that, he met girls everyday who fit that description. Braxton was embarrassed to admit, even to himself, this went beyond looks, it was something deeper, a connection he never felt before. They barely spoke to each other, but he already knew she was different. Maybe it was just a vibe he sensed, but it was there. She was acting shy, barely interested, a complete contrast to her behavior at the bar, and he could tell she was hiding something, putting on a front, he just didn’t know why, and wanted to find out. Scratch that, needed to find out. But she also had a tray full of drinks she was bringing back for people. She couldn’t exactly sit around and talk to him all day. He had other things he needed to do too. It was probably for the best.

  Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, he forced himself to let her go. “Looks like you have some drinks to get back to your friends, so I’ll let you get going.”

  “Okay,” she said uncertainly. Disappointed maybe? “Thanks for the drinks by the way.”

  “No problem.”

  Bethany turned to leave and something in his gut clenched. He couldn’t stand the idea of letting her walk away, of never tasting her, feeling her. What the fuck was going on? He wasn’t a boyfriend kind of guy, he wasn’t about to offer her his number or ask for hers, but he still had to try. She felt it too. He knew she did. Sensed it with every part of his being.

  Reaching out he grazed her light on the elbow. It was a tentative touch, but enough to get her attention and she turned back toward him.

  Without breaking eye contact, he removed the drink carrier from her hands and set it on the small, round table beside them. She seemed to know what he was going to do. Her eyes widened, her body tensed, but she didn’t push him away.

  Still holding her by the elbow he stepped closer, testing her reaction. She stood stock still, her breathing picked up, her eyes closed. If that wasn’t an invitation, he didn’t know what was.

  He brought his lips close to hers, could smell her minty breath as he let their mouths finally meet. It was innocent at first, just lips on lips, and when he felt her relax he opened his mouth and dipped in his tongue.

  That was all it took for her averseness to disappear completely and he pulled her closer, digging his fingers into the small of her back, letting them dip lower. She didn’t stop him, instead she joined in on the exploring, settling her hands on his face, then his hair, his back, moving like she wanted to touch him everywhere all at the same time.

  The chemistry of the once timid kiss was soon off the charts, no longer appropriate for a Sunday morning in the middle of Starbucks. Not like he cared. He’d fuck her on one of the tables if he thought she’d let him, but he got the feeling she wouldn’t be up for the idea.

  Braxton broke the kiss first, still holding her close, and she panted for breath. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you last night,” he confessed, settling the side of his forehead to hers.

  “I’m glad you did.”

  “Would you be glad if I did other stuff to you?” he whispered into her ear and bit soft on the lobe.

  Bethany didn’t respond, but tilted her head back and gazed up at him with her mouth parted like it was something she was considering.

  His hands still resting on her lower back, he pulled her closer. So close she could feel his need for her. “Come next door with me to my office. Text your friends and tell them the line is long and you’ll be back soon, or hell tell them the truth, that you’re going to spend the morning fucking the hot guy from last night and they should go get their own damn coffee.” He pressed himself up against her again and a small moan escaped her mouth. “You’re going to love it. I’ll make you feel better than you ever have before.”

  “Is that so?” she asked. Her sex literally clenching at his words. “Has any
one ever told you you’re conceited?”

  “Not conceited, just confident. Come on,” he encouraged.

  Annie wanted nothing more than to give in to what he was asking, to be beneath his strong, powerful body while he moved in and out of her. Her vagina was practically begging for it, ready to combust at first touch, but going home with a stranger wasn’t something she would ever do. She had never had a one-night stand in her life, and while she was vacationing to let loose a little, she didn’t need to be that loose. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  “Yes, you can,” he said with authority, placing his mouth on her neck, gliding his tongue on the sensitive skin to remind her of what she just felt, not like she could forget.

  She stood in his arms for a few minutes, not really debating on going up to his office, but just reveling in how good it felt to be held by him, which was odd since they really had just met. She was basically hugging and kissing a stranger, but it felt so right, normal even, like they had done this a thousand times before. She read up on love at first sight back in college, not saying that’s what this was, but it had crossed her mind. The research deemed it implausible, stating it mostly had to do with sexual attraction, and while that was ever so present, it was more than that. It was like a part of her knew him already. “This is crazy. We don’t even know each other.” She said it more to herself than to him, not fully understanding why she wanted him so bad, and why she was still standing there. “I just can’t. I’m not like that.”

  Placing her hands on his chest she pushed away again, but he held her firm, not used to rejection. She should have told him the real reason, that would have sent him running, but a part of her, a selfish part, didn’t want whatever they had to end just yet. How could two people have such immediate-intense feelings for each other? Did he feel it too or was it just her?