by Amy Brent
“Now,” he said.
“Now,” I repeated furiously.
The next second, he unraveled the tie of my shorts as fast as he had undone the tie on my tank—so slowly, clearly to torture me. Finally, he yanked them off and tossed them aside, sweeping my panties off with them. Together, we undid his pants and pulled out his dick. He moved into a half-seated, half-lying position and pulled me to him.
“Now.”
“Now,” gargled out as I speared myself on his rock-hard boner.
Almost painful pleasure ratcheted through me. Oh, fuck yes.
I couldn’t ease myself all the way down with the first attempt. Instead, slowly rocking my hips back and forth, my breasts jiggling in Eric’s face, I gradually slid myself further down his cock, and a glorious sensation ripped through me. We’d never done girl on top before, and I could see why. The thickness of Eric’s shaft was almost too much to bear, but in a crazy pleasurable way. Already, my body was shaking. Once I finally made it to the base of his dick, my whole body broke out into delirious shaking.
By now, the alcohol had gone to my head and everything was smeared into one fuzzy movement, one perfection of a feeling. In and out, deep and deeper.
The second time my pussy slid all the way to the base of his dick, I came. The orgasm exploded out of me and onto him, sending both of our bodies swaying with its intensity.
My body drooped onto his.
Picking me up, Eric turned me around easily so that I was on my back. He positioned me with my feet over his shoulders, his dick deep inside me. Drowsily, my already sensitive pussy hummed with approval as he picked up where he’d left off.
The merciless thrusts of Eric’s dick rent pleasure deep within me. He was hitting my G-spot, and I could tell, as fast as this was, that it wouldn’t be long before I was over the edge again.
My feet tensed against his head with the oncoming release, but Eric hardly seemed to notice. He lowered his hand to rub it over my face. Oh, fuck.
Our bodies had taken over completely, and now we were nothing more than an all-encompassing rhythm in human form, a want we were in the process of satisfying. Movement was all we knew.
What brought me to the bar or even to this limo was beyond my ability to recall just now. All I knew was the man had his hand around my neck, squeezing my orgasm out of me. When Eric actually started choking me, my unwilling release spilled through me, my muscles in a constant spasm. Together, our bodies broke into a shaking exhaustion. Mine fell back, completely spent.
Eric released me, and I curled into a comfortable ball on the seat. I was surprised when I felt his hard dick prodding my butt.
“I held out for you that time,” he told me, his hand stroking my head and my hair. “I just enjoy seeing you come so much.”
He slid his dick between my ass cheeks, and my body shivered with anticipation. Was he really going to do it again? Every part of me was aching with a fearful longing at the possibility. My pussy felt all fucked out, and yet, as soon as Eric’s hands latched onto my ass, I was voracious for more.
Like a blowup doll, Eric situated me so I was on my hands and knees. Gripping my hips for support, he inserted himself into me from behind, doggy style. With one resounding smack of my ass, he began. These thrusts felt better than ever, and more brutal. Eric wasted no time slowly building his pace. It was clear: Now he was fucking me for himself alone. And what his dick wanted was nothing less than a jackhammering jamming of my pussy, as hard and fast as I could possibly take it.
Already, it seemed like he had reached my limit. My body kept sinking down reluctantly, but at the same time, my pussy clasped back eagerly at the rock-hard dick ramming into it. More and more, he brutalized my pussy, until I couldn’t tell if I was shaking from pain or pleasure.
Everything was black, a red-hot, yellow-tinged black. All the sound—the slap and slurp of our bodies moving together—was gone. Right now, there was only the pulse inside me, the need that had to be satisfied.
When Eric spanked me, my orgasm exploded out of me, enveloping both of us, and as my whole body flailed with the delicious ecstasy of it, I felt him emptying himself into me.
Our bodies collapsed onto the seat, still twitching and trembling even minutes later.
In the blurry haze of after-pleasure, speaking seemed ludicrous. Yet, somehow, Eric managed it.
“You will come over now, won’t you?”
The words, as clearly voiced as they were, were still impossibly hard to understand, as if they’d been said in a different language. My body was still locked in feeling, not thinking. After a few more seconds of focused concentration, my mind thought enough to realize what my answer had to be.
“No.”
Reluctantly, I clawed my body upright.
“Why not?” he asked, supreme irritation evident on his face even in the darkness of the limo.
“Because I have work,” I told him, which was the truth.
Early tomorrow morning, I had another meeting set up with Sgt. Williams, and I wasn’t in the mood to show up completely sleep-deprived and borderline stupid because I had spent the whole night deliriously fucking Eric Black.
“Okay,” Eric said, although I could tell my answer didn’t satisfy him. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
Eric reached up to snap on the blue LED light on the ceiling.
“You have to let me check for tattoos.”
As he shoved me face-first into the seat, I struggled uselessly.
“I don’t have any, okay?”
But Eric continued as if he hadn’t heard me. Kissing his way down my trembling back, over my ass, and all the way down to my feet, he didn’t stop until he had flipped me around and repeated the motion on my front. Now, once again, I was aching with wet longing.
“Guess not,” he said with a touch of disappointment. He gestured to the door.
“You can go now.”
A bit annoyed, I pulled back on my clothes and reached for the door. Before I got out, however, Eric stopped me.
“You’ll see me tomorrow for lunch?”
“Yes,” I told him immediately, surprising myself.
Did I really have time to sneak away from the office to see him? My lips tightened into a firm line. Of course I did. This was the main case I was working after all. I wasn’t just sleeping with this guy for my own pleasure. Right?
“Good,” Eric said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.
As I got out of the limo, irritation panged through me. This time, he hadn’t asked if he could give me a ride home. Then I felt pissed at my irritation. Why did I even give a damn? I had gone into this assuming Eric Black was a pompous jerk. If he was showing signs of being one, should I really be surprised or disappointed? This was my job. That was my purpose: my job.
Chapter 8
Eric
I looked up to see a professionally dressed woman who looked like Kathryn with her hair pulled back standing over me. I blinked. It was Kathryn.
“Shocked by my work clothes?” she said with obvious satisfaction.
Rising to throw my arms around her, I couldn’t help but nod.
“I’ve never seen you with your hair up like this,” I told her. “It’s pretty. And the whole blazer and starched pants deal. I knew you were a writer, but I imagined you writing while sitting at home in your penguin pajamas.”
As we drew away, she grinned even bigger.
“Those I save for the work parties,” she said with a wink. “You know, for special occasions and stuff.”
I laughed, and we sat down.
Truth be told, I’d picked a good venue this time. I had been to this outdoor, garden-bordered patio once before with Mark, who had overlooked the Monet-like grove and its profusion of lilacs, dragon’s breath, and May flowers, opting instead to flirt with our hot waitress, who had worn flowery earrings.
“What are you feeling like today?” I asked Kathryn as she opened her menu.
“Oh, today I get to choose?�
� Kathryn joked.
“Figured you’ve earned it by now,” I said.
Kathryn only smiled at that as she scanned the gold-bordered menu.
“The butternut squash soup looks good. My sister used to make a mean one back in the day.”
“Your sister,” I said, trying out the word on my lips. “That reminds me of the whole reason I invited you here—other than to get to see you, of course.”
One of Kathryn’s dark brows rose.
“Part of me thought this was just the foreplay to another quick midday tryst.”
“Who’s says it isn’t?” I said, raising a brow of my own. “Seriously, I want to know more about you. I still don’t really get why a writer would sign up to be my mistress. And, more than that, I just want to know little details about you, important stuff. You know, like how close you are with your family, your favorite color, that sort of stuff.”
Kathryn laughed.
“I’ve always said you can tell the type of person someone is by their favorite color. Mine is green.”
My gaze went to her emerald-colored necklace approvingly. I still couldn’t get over how many Kathryn’s I’d encountered so far, and how many more there still were lurking under her playful exterior. There was the sexy, free Kathryn I had encountered most in bed. There was the playful, teasing one I got to enjoy while we were out. There was the classy one I saw in the way she pronounced her words and the posture and poise with which she walked across a room. And even now, there was a professional one I hadn’t realized had been there at all.
“As far as my family goes,” she said, her gaze becoming distracted,” I think I told you most of it before. I’m pretty close with them, though it wasn’t always that way.”
“What, were you a handful as a teen?” I asked.
“Guilty,” she admitted. “Back then, my parents and I used to fight like cats and dogs. They were always trying to ground me and make me stay home, but I would just sneak out. One time I even snuck out of my window, navigated across our severely steep roof, and hopped down onto the ground below.”
“A regular Lara Croft Tomb Raider,” I said. “Sounds like you should aspire to be in law enforcement, not a writer.”
All the blood drained from Kathryn’s face.
“How did you know my secret dream?” she said.
Together, we laughed.
“Sixth sense,” I said. “Anyway, if you didn’t get along with them then, what changed?”
“Easy there, Dr. Phil,” she said, although she was still smiling. “Why do you even care, anyway?”
“Do I really have to tell you again?” I deadpanned. “Besides, think of this like a trade. I’ll tell you more about me and my business you keep pestering me about if you give me a few details for curiosity’s sake.”
This seemed to get her going.
“Okay, fine. So as a teen, I was a bit of a wild child, like I said, partying and stuff like that. Anyway,” she said, drawing in a deep breath—and I could tell whatever she was about to say, it was big—“I don’t want to get into the details, but let’s just say I was assaulted. No one believed me, even my friends. I didn’t even bother to try going to the police after that. It seemed my world had shrunk to the size of my room. Suddenly, I lost interest in everything I had been interested in before. I didn’t even feel like going outside, thinking people would somehow sense it from my body language or read it on my face.”
Her hands had tightened on her napkin so hard that I could see her veins straining against her thin skin. She drew in another deep breath, then continued. “But my parents stood by me. They not only believed me, but they supported me. They were almost the only ones who did. For the next few years, as I got my life back together, they were there cheering me on every step of the way. Through that, I realized that family is the most important thing. They’re the ones who will still be there when everything else falls away.”
I was about to respond when she continued. “Although, you could say that I don’t regret what happened. It gave me a deeply rooted sense of injustice—one that I want to right. In fact, it’s what made me want to be a—writer.”
The last word came out half garbled and a bit awkward sounding. For some reason, it didn’t seem like the thing Kathryn was going to say until the last minute.
“Okay, so a deal’s a deal,” she said, her eyes scanning my face. “Tell me about your business.”
My hand rested on hers.
“Hold up,” I said. “You’re not getting away that easily. You’re not even going to let me respond to what you just told me?”
A pretty flush colored her cheeks.
“I didn’t really want to tell you at all.”
My fingers enmeshed in hers and squeezed.
“Sorry for pressuring you,” I said, “and I’m terribly sorry that happened to you. I think it’s incredibly brave of you to carry on like that.”
She managed a one-shouldered shrug. “I didn’t have much choice.”
Angrily, I shook my head.
“Yes, you did,” I told her. “There’s always a choice. Maybe your family wouldn’t have let you give up entirely, but you could’ve given up another way, the slower, more insidious way where you stop trying for things or even believing in good. The all-encompassing slump into mediocrity or bitterness.”
“Sounds like you’ve had some experience with it yourself,” Kathryn said softly.
With a half shrug, I shook my head.
“Not really,” I told her. “I just had this one employee who did her best to try to destroy me. It’s taken me a while and I still haven’t gotten there, but instead of getting bitter, I decided to get better, to improve my company’s product and even improve myself. My hatred for her inspired me to start looking into being more careful with hiring and getting better at forgiveness.”
“Hmmm. She must’ve been a really terrible employee,” Kathryn said, her eyes suddenly alight with interest.
“Forget it,” I said. “I don’t like talking about it.”
“So I don’t even get to hear about your multimillion-dollar business?” Kathryn asked.
“All right,” I said, throwing up one hand in an expression of defeat. “What you want to know?”
“I don’t know,” Kathryn said, but there was a glint in her eyes that said she did. “Tell me about the people, like who you work with. Who’s vice president? Who’s your favorite and least favorite employee? Who takes care of your accounts?”
The last part Kathryn just snuck in there, but it seemed like a strange question to ask. Nevertheless, I humored her by answering that one first.
“This is going to sound bad,” I admitted, “but I’m the one in charge of the accounts. That was another employee I had trouble with in the past—an accountant who stole money.”
“Sounds like you have bad luck with employees,” Kathryn said.
I shook my head.
“Not overly so. In fact, I’d say our team right now is firmly mediocre.”
With her scrunched-up button nose, Kathryn’s peal of laughter was enjoyable.
“Okay, okay, that was a bit harsh of me,” I admitted. “Everyone on our team is extremely smart, but they’re often not as assertive as I’d like. I find many of them wait to make decisions until they’re given the official okay by me even when they have more than enough expertise, clout, and knowledge to solve the problem and make the call themselves. The one exception to that is my second-in-command, Mark. While he doesn’t possess the same technical knowledge I do, he more than makes up for it with his go-getter attitude. He is part of what propelled Virus Killer to the position of the number one antivirus system.”
“Mark. That’s your best friend. Same guy?” Kathryn asked.
I nodded.
“Sometimes I think Mark and I were separated at birth. Although…I haven’t told him about you yet.”
“Oh, you mean your paid mistress?” Kathryn said in a low voice with a merry-lipped grin.
“Don
’t say that,” I urged her sincerely. “It diminishes what we have.”
A nervous silence ensued while Kathryn searched my face.
“Gotcha,” I told her, and we both cracked up.
“Anyway,” I said, circling her palm with my pointer finger, “you’ll get to meet Mark yourself at the charity ball.”
The rest of the meal passed as one fun, flowing conversation, broken only intermittently to enjoy our delicious food. At the end of the meal, I rose unwillingly and pressed my lips to Kathryn’s ear.
“I’ll be seeing you,” I said into it.
Kathryn’s face was flushed as we drew apart. There was a second where our gazes fixed on each other too long. I took in her pale face thrown into radiance by the shining sun, the generous sweep of her lower pink lip. I was about to kiss her again when, abruptly, Kathryn turned away and strode off. She threw a hand up as a parting wave goodbye. As I got up from the table, a strong hand beat my back.
“Don’t go shit-talking me when I’m not around.”
I wheeled around to see Mark grinning from ear to ear.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him, squinting as if he were an apparition that might disappear at any minute.
“I’m trying to hook up with the tall waitress, remember?” Mark said, directing my gaze to the host stand where the tall, thin blonde was talking to another shorter, bearded man.
“Ah,” I said. “What did you hear anyway?”
“Enough to know why you’ve been acting all weird lately,” Mark said with an all-knowing, superior smile.
“Oh yeah, Dr. Mark?” I shot back.
He nodded importantly.
“You caught the feels for her, man.”
“I did not,” I retorted. “She’s just some mistress I hired. I’m paying her after all.”
Mark’s broad nose and meaty lips assumed a dubious expression.
“Sure looks serious to me, buddy, money or not.”
I jerked myself away toward the parking lot.
“Well, it’s not,” I told him. “You know me. I don’t get serious with anyone.”