by Kira Blakely
“Tell me what you want,” he said.
“You know what I want,” I replied, my hands clamping down onto the hard roundness of his ass.
“I want to hear you say it,” he said. “I want you to say it loud and fucking clear.”
I was up to the challenge.
“I want your prick, Connor Rex. I want you to take that fat cock of yours and shove it deep into my pussy, and then I want you to fuck me until I come hard.”
His narrowed eyes made it clear that I’d said the magic words. Without wasting another moment, Connor reached down, took his cock by the base, and entered me with a long, deep thrust.
“Ohmigod, ohmigod,” I shrieked as each inch of him entered me.
I squirmed underneath him as he filled me, barely able to contain the pleasure that set each and every one of my nerves on fire with otherworldly delight. Connor let out a low moan as he put his last inch into me, a look of animal intensity painting his features.
I needed him hard and I needed him fast. But Connor, as always, moved at his own pace. This time very literally. He shifted his hips, penetrating me again and again slowly, each thrust deep and full and deliberate.
Soon, I fell into his rhythm. What had started out as intense and animalistic rutting was melting into something else, something more passionate, something that spoke true to the love between us. I pressed my hands down hard on his ass, guiding him into me time and time again, each push of his hips guiding me closer and closer to the orgasm that I’d craved since my eyes opened that morning.
Connor ducked his head down and kissed me, starting with my hard, pink nipples, licking the flesh around them as he did. Then, his thrusts still steady and deep, he moved his lips up my body, kissing along my collarbone. The sensation sent shivers over my skin, and I couldn’t help but run my hands through his thick hair as I bucked my hips, my back arching with delight.
“Don’t stop,” I moaned, feeling the orgasm draw closer by the second. “Please don’t stop.”
His unceasing pace made it clear he had nothing of the sort on his mind. Soon, the pleasure became almost too much to bear.
“Baby,” I moaned. “Please—I’m gonna, ahh, ah—!”
The orgasm that flooded my body at that moment felt like a great knot untying. The sensation of almost unbearable sensual pleasure exploded from my pussy, spreading outward until every square inch of my body was alight with bliss. I writhed my hips, unable to stay still as I came.
Connor was next. With a heavy shudder he unloaded himself into me, the explosion of his prick pushing me just a little further, a little deeper into the orgasm. His face tightened and his hips plunged deep as he filled me with his seed.
Goddamn, there was nothing like it.
Moments later Connor collapsed on top of me, both of our bodies heaving and sweaty. Connor’s abs glistened with a sheen of sweat and I found myself unable to take my eye off of them.
“Well,” said Connor, finally speaking. “As lovely as the idea of staying in bed with you all day sounds, there’s a boy in the other room who’s about to wake up very hungry.”
“Message received,” I said. “Let me hop in the shower and I’ll be out to help.”
“Take your time,” said Connor, placing his hand on the flat plane of my stomach. “You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen.”
“It makes the food taste extra good?” I asked with a smirk.
“Take a shower, stinky,” he said, planting one last kiss on my forehead, then hopping out of bed.
I watched the bar muscles of his ass ripple as he walked to the bathroom, unable to look anywhere else. When I was done, I swooped into the bathroom, planted a kiss on his forehead, and hopped into the shower.
The last few months had been totally crazy, to say the least. Once the fallout from the Richter incident cleared, Connor and I quickly decided that a life together was exactly what we both wanted. The plans for the LA move began in earnest, and after what seemed like the blink of an eye, Connor, Hunter, and I had moved into a beachfront home in Santa Monica.
The next month was even more chaotic as Connor settled into his new job and I began the process of applying for jobs at magazines in the city. But that didn’t take long—I brought my draft of the Connor article to a local who’s-who publication and they hired me on the spot. Between work, getting the house furnished, and making sure Hunter was settling into his new school, the time had just flown by.
Time had flown by so fast, in fact, that I was only just now realizing that Connor and I were no longer fake-engaged. We were real-something else, and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. But I didn’t want to make things even more complicated by bringing up the matter. We had plenty on our plate for now.
“Morning, Alice!” shouted Hunter from the kitchen table as I stepped into the main, open room of the two-story home.
“Morning, champ,” I said, planting a kiss on his forehead as I tightened the sash of my robe.
Connor stood facing the stove, the smell of something delicious wafting into the air.
“What’s on the menu for this morning, Chef Connor?” I asked, sliding into the seat next to Hunter and mussing his hair.
“Pancakes, pancakes, and more pancakes,” said Connor. “We’ve got the kind with bananas, we’ve got ’em plain, we’ve even got ’em with chocolate if you’re feeling extra spicy.”
“Chocolate!” shouted Hunter.
“The man knows what he wants,” said Connor.
“Takes after his father,” I said with a smile.
Connor gave me a wink as he loaded up a plate for Hunter.
“Dad, can we go to the tar pits today?” asked Hunter as he doused his cakes with rich-looking syrup.
“Sure can,” said Connor.
“Cool. Then you can give Miss Alice her surprise!”
“Whoa, what?” I asked, turning to Hunter.
But his mouth was full of pancakes—he wouldn’t be much good for explanations.
“Buddy!” shouted Connor. “Surprises aren’t surprises if you blurt them out, dude!”
“Sorry,” said Hunter, the word muffled by the food.
“OK,” I said. “I gotta know what the surprise is now.”
Connor killed the skillet and turned toward me.
“No time like the present, I suppose,” he said.
“For what?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“Why don’t you come on out onto the balcony,” said Connor, his tone grave. “Might be better to discuss it out there. I’ll meet you there.”
With that, he headed toward the bedroom. My heart began pounding in my chest. What could he possibly want out to talk about out there? Had he decided that he was done with all of this? That moving out here together was a mistake? I supposed that I was about to find out.
I stepped out onto the balcony, letting the sweeping beach vista calm my heart. I missed New York at times, but being able to dip my toes into the surf whenever I wanted was a tradeoff that hadn’t been too bad.
Connor didn’t keep me long.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I repeated.
He stepped closer to me, a serious expression on his face. I felt my blood run cold as I prepared for the worst.
“What’s this all about?” I asked.
Connor looked away for a moment before answering.
“I’d been thinking about how I was going to say this for the last month. I’d been imagining the perfect place, the perfect time, the perfect view—all of that. But now I’m realizing that any place is perfect, as long as I’m with you.
“Alice, I love you so much that it’s sometimes hard to believe. You coming back into my life was unexpected, but I can’t imagine a greater gift. And when I think about how close I was to having lost you forever, it makes me realize how important it is that I never let you go.”
By this point, my heart felt like it was going to burst, both from the anticipation of what was next and
from Connor’s words. Tears welled in my eyes.
Then, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a small black box. With a casual flip, he opened the top and presented me with a gorgeous diamond ring.
“Alice Holiday, will you make me the happiest man alive? Will you marry me—for real, this time?”
I almost wanted to laugh at that last part. Instead, I threw my arms around him and pulled him close as he slipped the ring on my finger.
“Yes!” I shouted. “Yes, yes, yes!”
I planted my lips on Connor’s and we kissed long and deep.
“Gross!” came a little voice from the balcony door.
Connor and I turned and sure enough, there was Hunter, a scrunched-up expression on his little face.
“Does that mean she said ‘yes’?” he asked, his blue eyes wide in anticipation.
“Sure did,” said Connor.
“Yeah!” he shouted, running toward us and wrapping his arms around our legs.
Connor lifted Hunter up and gave him a kiss on the head.
“I love you, baby,” said Connor, taking my hand into his.
“I love you, too,” I said. “Always and forever.”
As if we didn’t have enough to worry about, now there was a wedding to plan. But I wasn’t worried. As I stood with Connor and Hunter, the three of us the family that I’d always longed for, I knew that we could do anything. And as I considered the future ahead, a sense of joyfulness came over me that was so complete I though I might not be able to handle it.
I was happy, I was in love, and I couldn’t wait for what was next.
THE END
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She needs a fiancé for Christmas, so I’ll pretend.
Hard not to when a gorgeous virgin walks into your strip club.
She’s thinks this is an escort service, and that I’m for hire.
Man is she in the wrong place.
Blair is everything I’m not.
Loving. Gentle. Family girl.
I’m rude, arrogant, and do what the fu@k I want.
Right now, I want her.
So, I’ll play the good fiancé.
Tell the family all the right things.
Kiss her in all the right ways.
And when we’re alone?
I’ll claim that sweet innocence.
Make her soul mine and her body tremble.
I don’t want it to end.
And I damn sure didn’t expect to feel this way.
After this, she’ll have more than just memories.
I have a special gift in mind.
Chapter 1
Samson
The inside of my strip club didn’t smell cheap. Light perfume, walnut, a hint of musk no matter the time of night or day.
I strode through the carpeted lobby and yawned, my gaze on my cell as I worked on scheduling meetings. My head was still pounding from the after effects of last night’s party: a private Victoria’s Secret affair at the Four Seasons, blonde models in lingerie, and champagne on tap.
Boring. All so fucking boring.
And I had an entire day of business meetings to chase it with. Like following Stroh rum with, well, more Stroh rum. Gag.
I stowed my phone, looked up for Phillipe, my assistant, and lost my breath.
Holy shit.
The woman, nah, fuggit, the woman – she deserved the inflection – hovered outside the thick doors that led to the stage and the scantily clad girls beyond.
Hazel cat-shaped eyes, a petite button nose, and lips that begged for a kiss – dimpled at the bottom. She opened that mouth, then closed it again with a light click of her teeth. Young. This one was young. Twenty-one, tops.
“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? You here for an audition?” I sauntered across the space that separated us, head tilted to one side, absorbing the sight of her.
Tight skinny jeans, perky tits, tall, slender body. She’d make a fabulous stripper but that chain around her throat said old money, and the dropped jaw told me no before she got it out.
“No!” Right on cue, she folded her arms across that ample chest. “No, I’m here looking for someone.”
“For someone,” I said, and halted in front of her, inches from her forearms.
She trembled ever so slightly – the usual reaction I got around here. Around anywhere.
My height, coupled with my broad shoulders and jaw line, made women melt. I had my pick of them all, strippers, too, but it bored me. There wasn’t a chase to be had. Nothing about an easy lay excited me.
The woman swallowed and came back to herself, and brushed silky, raven hair behind her ear. “Yes, I’m in need of assistance. I – look, I – are you one of them?”
I arched an eyebrow. “One of who?”
“You know… them.”
“No, but I like where this is going. I love games,” I said. “I’ll guess. You’re looking for…” I cast an eye over her clothes, the loose blouse, a smudge of yellow on the hem. “A hot dog vender? A samurai warrior? I’m not Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible, though I’ve been told I look like him.”
She snorted a laugh.
“I can’t help it.” I ran fingers through my neatly cut hair, swept to one side, the other shaved. “I was born this way. You know, unlike those Maybelline models.”
“Do you always tell lame jokes?” The corners of her lips twitched. “They call them dad jokes, right?”
“I’m not a daddy,” I replied. “Unless you want me to be.”
Her cherubic cheeks went pink as a cotton candy. As her pussy lips undoubtedly would be.
“What do you need, sweetheart?” I asked and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Like I said, this is hardly the place for a woman like you.”
Past those wooden doors behind the reception desk, smoke curled through the air – blue, pink, whatever color the flashing lights made it – and the low throb of music pulsed while women swayed and turned, removing their clothes. Hungry wolves watching, paying whatever they had to make it last a little longer, make the girls grind a little harder.
She took a couple steps back, put distance between us, then shook her head as if to clear it. “My name’s Blair, not sweetheart,” she said, and lifted her chin. The hazel eyes which had been clouded over cleared. That desire cleared right out.
Yeah, desire. Always desire when I was around. “Blair,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you.” I extended a hand.
She took it and shook once, her dainty fingers gripping hard. I pictured them around my cock, smoothing over my skin, and those cushion lips wrapped around the tip. Delicious, but she won’t answer to sweetheart – finally, a woman who intrigued me.
“Blair,” I said, and let go. “You’ve got me hooked. What’s the mystery? You regretting the decision to come here?”
“No,” she snapped – not angrily, just with determination. A muscle twitched in her cheek. “I’m just taking it all in.” She gestured to the walls, the images of women in various stages of undress in gilt frames. “It’s not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“More men,” she said.
“They’re through there,” I replied, pointing to the paneled walnut doors. No windows. They liked their privacy. “All of it’s happening in there. Do you want to go in?”
“No, thank you,” Blair replied, curtly.
“You sure? You might like it.” I laughed and waved away the comment. “I’m kidding, of course. Blair, you need something from me, don’t you? Cut the crap and tell me who you�
��re looking for.”
Blair inhaled sharply, then drew a card out of her pocket, cream and purple print, then handed it over. “My friend gave me this. She told me to come here if I wanted to hire one of you. I – she said it would be in the building with the flashing girl on the front.”
I turned the card over in my fingers, touched the sharp edges, and barely restrained my shock.
Big Dick’s Escort Service.
Damn, wasn’t that a name to remember? But what did a beautiful woman like this want with an escort? The plot thickens. Sexy Blair had pulled in at the wrong address. My strip club didn’t do happy endings, and I certainly didn’t hire male hookers.
Poor chick – she’d found the flashing girl on the front of the building, but it was still the wrong one. Christ, I’d have to check my branding if an escort service had used the same signage out front.
“Are you Dick?” Blair asked. Her lips tasted the word dick, and the one in my pants stirred.
“No, I’m not Dick.” I could tell her that she’d gotten the wrong address, but then she’d leave and I wouldn’t hear the end of this story. That, and she’d actually go through with hiring a god damn hooker.
“Then could you take me to him? To Dick?”
I could take you to dick, all right. All fucking night long I’d take you to dick. “No. Dick’s checked out. Listen, you know you’re fucking delicious, right?”
“What?” Blair jerked back.
“Ah, don’t do that. I’m not being an asshole, just stating the fact. It’s what I do. You’re gorgeous. I can’t imagine you’d have trouble finding someone to give you a good dicking.”
“Christ,” she said, placing a hand to her slender, pale throat. “Christ. A dicking. You sure know how to talk to a girl.”
“A spade is a spade. A dick is a dick. And you’re looking for an escort. I’d say the language is warranted.”
“I don’t want a dicking.” Her lips twitched again, almost as if she wanted to laugh. “I want to hire someone to be my fiancé for Christmas weekend. It’ll be a one weekend deal. No sex, just acting, and I’ll pay well. As much as I have.”