Good Girls Like it Dirty

by Carmen Falcone

  Hell, waiting had never been her forte.

  She dropped to her knees and cupped his rod.

  He blinked, obviously surprised, but didn’t make any move to stop her. She stroked his cock, first with her hands, then she brought it to her mouth. The sensation of not fitting all of him even with her hand and mouth set a fire in her core. She looked up at him, admiring the ridges of his chest, the perfect pecs.

  He shoved his fingers into her hair and thrust his dick deeper, her pussy lips drenched. She loved his possessive side, because ever since their first kiss she’d longed to be claimed by him. She intensified her licks, her teeth grazing over his velvety smooth skin.

  “Monique, I’m—”

  He started, but a loud groan filled the air, and soon, she was swallowing his hot seed. He shook, and she loved seeing him lose control; to know that big guy quivered and hissed because of her did a number to her insides.

  After swallowing him, she rose to face him. “You taste yummy.”

  He embraced her, his long arms holding her close, and kissed the top of her head. She sighed into his hold, never before feeling so protected and cherished by a man. What a silly idea. She shouldn’t let post-sex intimacy cloud her judgment. She used to know the difference between lust and caring.

  They exited the shower, then Zaine dried her off without hurry. She enjoyed the fluffy, oversized towel caressing and prickling her flesh.

  “Wait for me in my bed,” he whispered, and then kissed the back of her neck.

  She climbed onto the huge bed, the same one where she’d masturbated. The same bed he’d occupied with his former wife. She let her fingers stroke the luxurious sheets. How things had changed in such a short time.

  He no longer wanted his wife… She inhaled, remembering he was still professionally bound to Ashley. That could complicate things a lot. If Monique had been smarter she would have fled this hot mess long before screwing Zaine.

  He’s with me now. For two months, he’s all mine.

  She exhaled slowly, each breath dispelling her worries and insecurities. He’d never promised her puppies and rainbows, but did she want those things? In two months’ time, her classes would be over, and she’d return to France—and hopefully in the near future she’d go to Senegal to work in a school and teach underprivileged children both English and French. Zaine would never give up his life in Los Angeles to follow her, nor would she expect him to.

  When he returned to the room, deliciously naked, the remaining doubts disappeared from her mind. He carried a tray with a bowl of fresh strawberries and some whipped cream and placed it on the nightstand.

  “We never had dessert,” he said.

  She licked her lips, still tasting his salty flavor. “You could have fooled me.”

  He gave her one of those soul-searching looks, making her heart squeeze for a long second then drum madly in the next one. “Trust me, what I’m about to eat is a lot sweeter.”

  “I like where you’re going with this.”

  He sprayed some whipped cream on a juicy red strawberry. She thought he’d feed it to her, but he lifted it above her lips, so she had to fetch some of the cream with her tongue. She tilted her head but before the tip of her tongue touched it, he slid the fruit down her neck. The cold of the whipped cream brought chills to her skin. She moaned.

  “Like it?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Soon, he traced the lines of her neck with his tongue and she arched into him. His erection poked her flesh, and she spread her legs to welcome him. “I know what you want, baby,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, rubbing the thick head of his cock against her tender entrance. “You want some more hard fucking.”

  “Yes.”

  “You have to wait. We’re not even getting started,” he said, and she bucked up her hips to tease his dick but he withdrew, not giving her the slightest chance. Why did he torture her?

  He rubbed the strawberry down her breasts, the tip making a pattern around her engorged nipple. Then he dipped his head and licked her tit, his tongue warming her flesh immediately. She ran her fingers through his smooth, thick hair as a haze of desire blurred her vision.

  He cupped her left breast with his hand, his palm immediately searing her. A jolt of excitement moved through her and she squirmed, unable to stay still.

  “You’re delicious. Your skin was made for my lips.”

  He switched tits, sucking her, his teeth grazing over her tight bud every so often. Her skin was made for his lips… She didn’t know exactly what he meant, but the words had the power of unleashing another level of heat she’d never even known existed.

  She brushed her pussy against one of his legs and clenched it between her thighs. Before he moved, she rubbed her cunt against him, eager to create any kind of friction.

  “You’re trying to cheat, aren’t you?”

  “I need…to come so bad. Please,” she begged. “I’ll make it up to you later.” She grinded against him, and he rubbed his thigh against hers. Within seconds her clit pulsed with need. Need for release.

  He continued his exploration south of her body, peppering kisses on her stomach and thighs. Her body trembled when he took the strawberry down her pussy. He shoved it inside her, and she gasped, surprised. He kissed her, and the fruit squeezed between her walls. Soon, he was lowering himself between her legs, his head disappearing in the middle of her thighs.

  Is he going to—

  He responded to her silent question by licking her.

  She bucked under his mastery as he crushed the fruit in her pussy lips, only to start licking it off. She felt an odd but delicious sensation flooding her sex, with the juices from the strawberry blending with her own female arousal. Her desire reignited.

  Zaine groaned, the primal sound exciting her beyond measure.

  He removed whatever was left of the strawberry and placed it on the tray quickly, and dove into the V of her thighs again. He sucked her juices, and with two fingers, began to thrust inside her pussy. He teased her with relentless abandon, his tongue stroking her, his lips caressing her.

  “So hot. Oh, Zaine. I’m coming in your mouth soon.”

  Encouraged by her confession, he added another finger and plunged it into her. Deep. He slid his hands under her ass and brought it to his mouth like she was a plate of some exquisite food he loved but hadn’t had in months. Years. Decades.

  He flicked her clit with his thumb while his fingers worked their magic, his tongue not far behind. He fucked her so good and in every way that soon she almost choked, her moans too raw, too loud.

  Her body quivered, and she shifted into a weightless being filled with colors and sounds. She let go completely, calling his name, screaming his name, because it was the only thing that made sense.

  Seconds turned into minutes of bliss, tingles moving through her. A steady throb pulsed on her sex, and she opened her eyes to find him watching her with a rather fascinated smile on his handsome face. “Fruit sex. Is that an American thing?” she asked in a light tone.

  “I think it’s a Zaine and Monique thing,” he said, and his eyes darkened.

  To leave LA with her heart unscathed in two months, she had to remember their bargain and downplay all the stupid reactions of her body whenever he looked at her with a blend of hunger, affection, and excitement—like they were both already a “thing.” A terrifying thing that could complicate her life.

  Chapter Five

  “I better get going,” Monique said. “I have class tomorrow morning and need to study.”

  Zaine embraced her and kissed the top of her head. Hard to believe their Saturday date stretched into Sunday evening so quickly, but he couldn’t let go of her. They’d spent the past twenty-four hours naked, fucking each other’s bodies to exhaustion, and eating snacks for meals. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this pumped.

  Don’t turn this into something it’s not. His marriage had ended because he and Ashley wanted different things. T
hough when they first got married they had similar goals. How messed up would it be to ignore the red flags involving Monique?

  Monique was…the perfect distraction until he cleared his head from all the fog and regrouped. He tucked her blonde hair behind her ear, and she flashed him a coy smile. “Don’t go.”

  She shrugged. “I need to. I have class tomorrow morning and can’t be late.”

  “What are you doing after class?” He watched her leave his bed and search for her clothes. Arousal throbbed at the pit of his stomach. He looked up at the ceiling to avoid gawking at her luscious figure as she wiggled into the dress.

  “Good question. I’m supposed to come over to your place on Tuesday,” she said, reminding him about how the whole thing between them had started. On Tuesdays and Fridays she cleaned his place. Well, not anymore.

  She sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on her shoes.

  He rubbed his temples. He had to fire her…as his cleaner. He couldn’t sleep with the maid, and knowing she was tidying up in his house while he wasn’t there would only drag him out of work. Besides, it’s not like she needs the money anymore.

  He folded his arms under his head. “Have dinner with me Tuesday. From now on, you’re not cleaning for me. I’ll hire someone else.”

  She stood and turned to him, hands at her waist.

  “Call it a conflict of interest. I can’t have you doing my sheets and masturbating in my bed while I work,” he said in a steady tone.

  Her frown softened, and she crossed her arms. God, he hoped he didn’t blow this. He didn’t want to offend her, but he needed to make things clear. If they were having sex, she shouldn’t clean for him anymore as his employee. It didn’t seem right.

  A hint of a smile formed on her lips. “So you prefer I just masturbate in your bed.”

  “Yes. And while you’re at it, record yourself and send it to my cell so I have something to look forward to at the end of the day,” he said, propping himself on his elbows. His erection lifted the sheet, and she must have noticed for she sat on the bed again, this time closer to him, plastering her hands on the mattress.

  “That sounds pretty kinky. What will you do for cleaning?”

  “I’ll call the agency and find someone else,” he said, making himself a mental note.

  She removed the sheet off of him, studying his cock. “Preferably an old lady.”

  He drew in a breath. Wasn’t she in a hurry to leave? “Ancient.”

  “With a big mole on her face.”

  He chuckled.

  “And bad eyesight,” she continued.

  She hiked up her dress and straddled him, teasing his cock with her pussy. He placed his hands on her ass, ready for her to ride him. He’d never been with a woman so into sex as Monique. She knew what she wanted, how, and when. He never had to prompt her for anything; she loved to tease and initiate.

  “If she has bad eyesight, how is she expected to do a good job?” he said, lifting his hands to cup her breasts through the fabric.

  “If she has good eyesight, how is she not expected to touch herself over you, no matter what her age is?” She brought his cock inside her and began to move. Slowly, at first. Then, she found her tempo, riding him faster as he stroked her breasts and made invisible patterns around the nipples straining against the dress.

  “Noted,” he said, the words strained.

  She leaned over him and they shared a long, passionate kiss. He nipped at her lower lip, earning a few coarse moans from her.

  “We can’t make it past the bedroom door, can we?” He slid down his thumb and flicked her clit, teasing it to drive her crazy. She clenched her inner muscles, wrapping her pussy lips around his hard dick.

  He flipped her on her back and thrust into her hard. She wrapped her legs around his torso, the position making his thrusts deeper, harder. His body stiffened, his balls so freaking full and tingly.

  “Yes, Zaine.”

  He withdrew and plunged back in, repeating the motions until she shook under him, and his own world collapsed in rapturous pleasure. He loved this misleading sensation of being in control, of dominating her, filling her with his cum, impaling her until the last drop hit the depths of her cunt.

  While being inside her, ramming her hard made him feel like he had a say in this insane attraction, it only took one glance at her flushed face, the red staining her cheeks as she breathed hard for him, to know harnessing this connection was impossible. Yet, he had to find a way to. Two months should be more than enough…

  Zaine enjoyed the serenity of a still, starless night on the deck. He brought his glass of red wine to his lips, glancing at the pool where Monique had skinny-dipped the night before.

  She’d left a couple of hours earlier, much to his disappointment, but he understood she needed her own space. Offering money had been the right thing, and he’d been happy she agreed. Could he have offered her the money just to help her out, with no strings attached? Yes. Could he have continued their fling without stipulated rules? Yes. Both possibilities would end in disaster, because they’d mislead them into thinking they were in a real relationship.

  He glanced at the red contents of his glass, then chugged it down. The timing couldn’t have been worse to have met Monique. Her eyes had lit up when she’d told him about her plans to volunteer in Senegal. Though he’d love a relationship with the possibility of family and kids, he had to tread carefully and find the right partner this time. He’d waited too long with Ashley, and didn’t want to make the same mistake again.

  He had the dream house, the job, and the savings. All he needed was someone who shared his views on having a family. Monique wanted to explore the world and teach in far-flung places—rightfully so. She was young and ambitious, and he had no right even suggesting she settle down before she’d had a chance to see what she could do with her life.

  Don’t be too hard on yourself, a voice inside him warned. He sipped on his wine. That kind of behavior had pushed Ashley away—and why would he do the same with Monique, when the short timeline of their relationship had been outlined from the start? In a matter of months, she’d leave LA and he’d accept it. Expecting a young woman full of idealistic dreams like her to change her life for him wasn’t fair. Enjoy her for the time you have her.

  “Zaine?” a female voice asked behind him.

  He set the glass on the side table and turned to the woman wearing a pencil skirt and a prim blouse who appeared on the deck. “Ashley.” He stood, greeting the long-legged brunette he’d once loved. Why did she show up at his place without so much as a phone call? “What brings you here?” he asked, cutting to the chase. Most of her stuff had been moved, and she no longer had the right to come and go as she pleased.

  “You,” she said, stepping forward. “I’ve wanted us to have a clean break, but if you screw the help that defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

  He curled his fingers into a fist. Doug must have mentioned to Paula that Monique had acted flirtatiously, and Paula certainly had drawn her own conclusions and phoned Ashley. While the wheels turned in his head, he grabbed the bottle and poured more wine into the glass. “What we do from here on out is no longer each other’s business.”

  “If it doesn’t embarrass the other,” she said, and perched her hands at her waist. “Are you doing this to get to me?”

  Jesus, how self-centered was she? “No. Trust me, Ashley, I’m not wasting my time lamenting the end of our marriage.”

  “Then why?” she asked in a small voice. “Oh. You had an affair while we were married,” she said, her blue eyes widening. “It all makes sense now.” She inched closer and unfolded her arms, her shoulders sagging like she’d lost a battle he didn’t even know they were fighting. “I felt bad for leaving, but you’d checked out months before I made the decision. Was it because you had an affair with Monique?” Tears welled in her eyes, and he almost felt like giving her a hug.

  He squeezed her shoulder, wanting to offer some kind of support. God, s
he couldn’t believe that about him, right? He’d never cheat on anyone. He hadn’t touched her in weeks, and yet her presence evoked zero response in his body. “I promise I never cheated on you. I’m not doing anything to hurt you. It’s happened recently.” You have barely occupied my mind lately. The words burned at the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them. He’d mused over the end of his marriage for long enough.

  “I’m not sure I believe you. If you’re telling me the truth, stop it. Otherwise everyone will think this has been going for months and I’m an idiot for having hired that…woman. Besides, you were married to one of the most accomplished interior designers in California. Can you imagine if all our friends find out? How that’ll make me look?” She lifted her hand to her chest, like she was about to have a heart attack.

  “I don’t give a crap what your annoying friends think,” he said. He understood she probably didn’t want him to move on so quickly, but had she always been this stuck-up? Their marriage had been dead long before she walked out but he’d been too blind to see it. “And your thoughts on this issue are unwelcome. If you have anything else to say do it now, then leave. Next time you need to talk to me, email or call my attorney.”

  She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and regarded him with bitterness washing over her expression. “I can’t believe it. She must be a really good lay to put you against me.”

  Frustration crept under his skin. “It’s not always about you, Ashley. I hope you find someone, if that’s what you wish, someone who understands you working every hour of the day.”

  “You only say that because I’m a woman. If I were a man—”

  “I am a man. And I still believe you can be a spouse and a businessperson. It’s not mutually exclusive,” he said, tired of her spiel. During their time together, he had supported her in every way he could. He’d applauded her when her career soared and had given her shoulder rubs when needed. But in the last year or so, she’d used her career as a shield whenever he talked about spending time together, or family plans.