Strip Poker: Bad Boys Club Romance #2

by Olivia Thorne

  In turn, I took more time to explore his body – to luxuriate in tracing the muscles in his back, to clutch his perfect ass as he drove himself inside me.

  And that cock… oh my God, the things he could do to me with that cock…

  As we lay there panting again afterwards, I gasped, “Okay… maybe we’ll rethink that ‘no sex’ part.”

  He laughed, then said sleepily, “…good…”

  I don’t remember anything after that.

  57

  I awoke the next morning on my side, squinting at the light peeking in through the crappy curtains, which did absolutely nothing to stop the sunshine.

  I was too drowsy to be fully conscious. I rolled over –

  And immediately saw Vic lying on his back, still asleep.

  The previous night came rushing back in one lightning-fast montage.

  Party –

  Poker –

  My room –

  Sex –

  More sex –

  Even more sex –

  I immediately panicked.

  Oh shit oh shit oh shit!

  This was a disaster.

  Not only had I slept with him once, I’d slept with him – what, three times?!

  Oh God…

  I looked at him sleeping, and for a second I was distracted by the gorgeous lines of his chest and torso, the way the morning sun etched his muscles with deep canyons of shadow, turning his body into the most gorgeous painting you’ve ever seen –

  Plus there was the way the sheets bunched up below his waist, hiding one particularly beautiful piece of his anatomy.

  I kind of wanted to pull away the cloth so I could see how big it was when it was soft – something I’d never done, not even once last night. Jesus, he could stay hard forever – it was like a gift –

  NO! a voice in my head screamed. That thing under the sheets is what got you in trouble in the FIRST place!

  That was when I really started to panic: when I realized my job was over.

  There was no way Vic was going to do anything I told him to after this. It would just be a non-stop parade of bullshit and out-of-control behavior.

  Especially since he knew I really, really liked sleeping with him.

  Damn it!

  I’d given away any bit of leverage I had.

  Not only that, but it wasn’t like I could bargain with sex. He’d just laugh in my face and go find another dozen floozies who would give him whatever he wanted.

  DAMN IT!

  I was totally wound up and freaking out over the end of my career (and possibly life as I knew it) when Vic woke up.

  He opened his eyes a sliver and looked at me, then smiled sleepily. “Mm… morning, beautiful.”

  The affection and ease in his voice lessened my freak-out considerably… though not entirely.

  “Good morning,” I said, though I knew I sounded stiff and formal. I pulled the sheet way up past my chest, almost to my chin.

  He lifted his head the tiniest fraction to look past me at the sunlight flooding in through the chintzy curtains. “Are you pulling that same trick you did in Vegas to wake me up?”

  “No. It’s just a cheap place with bad curtains.”

  “Yeah, it would seem you’re just as much a victim as me.”

  “True.”

  “Mm. Bad planning on your part.”

  “Yeah, well…”

  “You sleep good?” he asked, like there was nothing more normal in the world than to wake up next to a co-worker after winning a bet to have sex and then making her come umpteen times.

  “Fine,” I said.

  “I’m amazed I slept at all,” he grinned.

  Oh great. Here it comes, about how he ‘did me all night long’ –

  “You’re such a snorer,” he said.

  “WHAT?!” I said, totally taken off-guard. “I am not!”

  “Like a saw on a log. Z’s all night long.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Nope.”

  “You were probably just hearing yourself,” I said, caught up in his playful mood in spite of myself.

  “Nope. I’m the perfect bedmate.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I am. Don’t snore at all.”

  I snorted. “I’m just glad you’re not a cuddler.”

  He got a look of mock hurt on his face, like I’d seriously wounded him. “I like cuddling!”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Oh, you just haven’t been cuddled right.”

  Uh oh.

  I could see where this was going.

  “No – ” I said pointing at him.

  “C’mere,” he said with a big grin, and reached out with his giant arms.

  “NO!” I shrieked with a laugh, and tried to leap out of bed –

  He grabbed me, pulled me back in, and wrapped me up in his strong arms.

  “NOOO!” I laughed hysterically as I thrashed, unable to break out of his grasp.

  We lay there like that on our sides, him spooning me from behind.

  “Thaaaat’s it,” he murmured in my ear, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Just enjoy the cuddle.”

  I could feel the tickle of his beard on my skin.

  I could also feel something else.

  Something long. Soft but firm, hot bare skin brushing against my ass as I squirmed.

  “I think you’re just a closet cuddler,” he murmured in my ear.

  “I am NOT!” I laughed, but my mind was on his cock rubbing against my ass.

  I could tell it was getting bigger.

  “Come on – it’s okay,” he whispered. “You can embrace it.”

  I’d like to embrace SOMETHING in this bed…

  His whispers, the tickle of his beard, and the feeling of his cock against my skin – all of it was enough to make me completely forget my paranoia and worries about my job.

  And to make me very, very wet.

  I stopped struggling, but I kept moving my lower body – arching it forward and backward, softly brushing against his shaft.

  I felt it get hard enough to straighten up. I pushed against him harder, feeling him slide along the groove of my ass cheeks.

  “Hey,” he said in a fake warning voice, “you keep doing that, we’re not going to keep cuddling.”

  I laughed. “ANYTHING to keep from cuddling.”

  “Anything?” he whispered in my ear.

  Oh God…

  I stopped moving.

  “Anything,” I said breathlessly.

  I felt his arms release from around me, and one of his hands lifted up my right leg.

  His hips pulled away from my ass. He had apparently grabbed his cock, because I felt his hand brush the inside of my thighs.

  Then I felt his fingers touch my pussy as he guided his swollen head to my lips.

  A very, very slow push, and the tip of his head was inside me.

  “Oh,” I cried out, feeling pleasure rush up and down my body.

  His left arm was underneath me, and he crooked his wrist so he could play with my breasts – caressing them, squeezing them, tweaking my nipples – as he slowly eased an inch inside me, then pulled it out… then pushed two inches inside me, then eased it out…

  “Ohhhhhhh,” I moaned. I’m sure my face looked like I was in pain, but I was in bliss instead.

  He went so slow… kissing my neck as he gently rocked his hips… stroking my g-spot with the swollen head of his shaft… the angle of his body behind mine providing the perfect angle to put pressure in all the right places…

  He rolled onto his back and pulled me with him. Now, with me naked on top of him and my back to his chest, both his hands were free to explore. One hand returned to my breasts and played, squeezed, cupped me – and his other hand went to my clit, where he wet his fingers with my juices and slowly began to massage me. Gentle circular motions at first. All the while, he slowly kept rocking his hips, driving his cock deeper and deeper inside me. Then, as he began to thrust faster, he rubb
ed my clit firmer, up and down, with more and more pressure…

  I was losing my fucking mind. With nothing to do with my own hands, I grabbed the sheets on either side of our bodies and clutched at them as my orgasm starting building, one small contraction leading to another, a chain reaction in slow motion.

  He was going harder now, faster, both his cock and his hand – and suddenly I felt him bite at my neck, a tiny nip of pain to accompany the pleasure –

  Then his hand slipped from my breast up to my throat.

  I can’t explain why I loved it, but I did. Maybe it was the heightened sense of danger as his fingers gently pressed at my neck. Maybe it was the feeling of being out of control – literally in the hands of someone else. Whatever the reason, his touch thrilled me – sent my heart racing faster – made every sensation even more intense.

  My vision went slightly dim at the edges as my orgasms built to an overwhelming crescendo. I was screaming and holding onto the sheets for dear life as my body writhed and bucked. He intertwined his legs with mine to keep me from moving too much, and it gave him even greater leverage to drive himself deeper inside me. Harder. Faster.

  There was a pressure inside me that wasn’t just him – a building need to let go, to surrender completely –

  I screamed one final time in orgasmic released as wetness flooded down my thighs and over his shaft.

  As soon as he felt me come all over him, he bellowed. His fingers tightened around my throat and I felt him explode – small hot spurts of wetness deep inside me.

  He slowed down his hips as his spasms lessened, then halted altogether. He let go of my throat, and the fingers of his other hand gently caressed my clit instead of rubbing it. He unlocked his legs from mine, then slid out of me – but stayed in the same position, his chest to my back.

  My entire body was trembling.

  “Good morning,” he whispered, and I turned my head and stroked his beard.

  “Good morning,” I whispered back, and kissed him hungrily.

  58

  We took a shower together in the small bathroom, in a mildewed alcove about the size of a telephone booth. It was a pretty shabby, pathetic affair (the bathroom, not the sex), but Vic managed to keep me laughing throughout.

  And I finally got to see his cock in something other than a fully erect state.

  DAAAAMN.

  It was gorgeous – thick and heavy and long, with a surprisingly large set of balls to rest on. The shaft just sort of swung pendulously whenever he moved. He was the epitome of the term ‘hung’ – not just because he had a huge package, but because it just hung there, swung there, heavy, solid, thick…

  And very, very hot.

  I took every chance I could to lather him up below the waist.

  “I think I’m the cleanest I’ve ever been in my life,” he teased as he returned the favor and soaped up my breasts.

  “That makes two of us,” I said, as his slippery fingers slid over my nipples and tweaked them gently.

  We probably would have had sex again, but the shower was too damn small.

  “Hey – you want to get out of here?” he asked.

  “The shower?”

  “Yes, but what I really meant was this whole beautiful establishment you call home.”

  “Fuck you,” I laughed. “It’s not like I enjoy living here.”

  “So let’s go somewhere else.”

  “Where were you thinking?”

  “My boat.”

  Oh GOD.

  “No thanks,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “What?” he asked, offended.

  “I don’t need to see all your hoochie mamas and models – and I don’t want you parading me around before you take me in the back and – ”

  “No no no no no,” he said. “Nobody’s there right now but the crew. Once I left for Vegas, I told them to let the party go till sunset and then kick everybody off.”

  I looked at him dubiously.

  “I swear,” he laughed, and held up his hand like he was pledging on a Bible. “It’s just the captain, the first mate, the cook, the maid, and a couple of other people. I’ll tell them to keep out of our way, you’ll never even know they’re there.”

  I thought for a second. It would be pretty amazing to be on that boat, just the two of us…

  But it was a bad idea. I knew it was.

  Further fraternizing? Even more blurring of the professional lines?

  On the other hand, we’d already pretty much blurred any lines there were left. Five times now, in fact.

  What was a little more?

  “No parties,” I said.

  “None. Just you and me.”

  I sighed. “This is a bad idea.”

  “Why?” he asked as he held me close. I could feel the warmth of his bare skin on mine, and it was intoxicating.

  I could also feel something else, soft and big and solid, brushing against the inside of my thigh. That was even more intoxicating.

  But I resisted.

  “We’re supposed to be working together. I’m supposed to be reigning you in, not sleeping with you.”

  “So let’s go have a business meeting… on the boat… and in bed,” he murmured in my ear. “I want this to keep going. We’ll work it out.”

  “Right.”

  “I don’t think you realize how much I want you,” he whispered. “I don’t think you know how much power you have over me.”

  That gentle pressure against the inside of my thigh was moving, even though his body wasn’t. Growing bigger, slowly lifting, pressing up between my legs, firmer and more insistent by the second.

  A small moan escaped my lips as I felt the head of his cock swell against my wet lips.

  “I think we’re going to have to start the business meeting here,” I whispered back as I reached down and began to stroke his shaft.

  “Seconded – motion passed,” he said with a grin, then lifted me up in his arms.

  It was ridiculous how strong he was – how he could just manipulate me any way he wanted, moving me here or there with the same ease I would have shifted a pillow around.

  I definitely didn’t mind, though.

  He put his hands under my ass, then slowly lowered me down on his fully erect cock, adjusting me so that it lined up and slipped right in.

  “OH!” I cried out as the head entered me. Then I looped my arms around his neck and squeezed for dear life as I slowly took in his entire, gorgeous shaft.

  I was wrong about the shower being too small for sex.

  It was exactly the right size.

  59

  Once we were finished and were toweling off, he asked, “Shall we adjourn to the next business site?”

  “Yes,” I said, “but no more sex till then, or we’re going to need to keep taking showers, and these corporate apartment towels suck.”

  “You got it,” he laughed, then moved my wet hair from the back of my neck and kissed me.

  I closed my eyes, looped my arm around his head, and sighed.

  I could get used to this kind of a working relationship…

  60

  Vic

  Good God a’mighty.

  The sex was not only astounding, but I always wanted more. I mean, I always want more, but Mr. Johnson doesn’t always cooperate, if you know what I’m sayin’.

  Not a problem with Monica. She kept me hard all the time – like I was mainlining Viagra.

  The last twelve hours had been incredible. I was hoping the next twelve would be even better.

  So the first thing I did was text the limo driver: Get to that corporate housing place you dropped me off at last night ASAP!

  Then I texted the maid on the yacht: Get the place spic and span IMMEDIATELY!

  Then I texted the chef: I need an incredible breakfast spread and mimosas by the time we’re on board – roughly one hour.

  Finally I texted the motorboat guy I normally used when my uncles wouldn’t let me borrow the helicopter: Need a lift to the yacht
in 45 minutes.

  Surprisingly, things went off without a hitch.

  The limo driver was there in twenty-five minutes. The drive without traffic to the marina took about thirty minutes – thank God it was Sunday morning – and my boat guy was ready and waiting. A little over an hour after I texted everybody, Monica and I climbed the floating gangplank to the yacht.

  I have to say, it was a whole different world without a party going on. There was a peacefulness I wasn’t used to. Hard to get peace when there’s 100 drunk chicks bumping and grinding to deafening music.

  The place was immaculate, just as I’d ordered. And the breakfast spread on the main deck was perfect – omelets with crab meat, mimosas, and strawberries with cream.

  Awesome job, team! Everybody’s getting bonuses!

  Monica was suitably blown away. She couldn’t stop talking about the food and the view of the bay, which was pretty fantastic with all the sailboats out.

  And from there, things only got better.

  It was a lazy day of sex and talking. Lots of sex. And even more talking – which, surprisingly, I liked almost as much as the sex.

  She let her hair down in a way I hadn’t really seen. The closest had been that first night in Vegas when she was drunk.

  I still didn’t find out a ton about her. She was sort of gun-shy on giving out details, but I did discover that she’d gone to NYU undergrad in business, then Wharton for her MBA. She seemed really driven, which was cool. As a poker-playing layabout, I’m always impressed with people with a lot of ambition.

  Not inspired, mind you – just impressed. After all, I like being a poker-playing layabout.

  Speaking of which, there was plenty of ‘laying,’ if you get my drift.

  On the bed… in the pool on deck…

  One time I took her from behind, with the upper half of her body outside my bedroom window, arms braced on the window frame, boobs swaying back and forth as we went at it. God she was hot. Anybody out on the bay with a high-powered telescope got a hell of a show.

  And being able to fuck her without a condom – DAMN. I’d forgotten how good that felt. With all my past bad behavior, I’d always had to wear a condom – but there is absolutely nothing in the world like being inside a beautiful woman, hearing her coming, and then you coming inside her without anything between you. There’s this primal UNH feeling, a deep-down pleasure, that keeps you coming back for more.