by Naomi West
She stood on the front porch and watched him, frowning as he headed back toward the house. “I hope this works,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Those were the prettiest white roses I’ve ever seen.”
Filled with disbelief, Pierce gestured around the house. “So why don’t you just buy yourself some? You don’t have to wait for some asshole to purchase them for you. You literally have half the world eating out of your palm and you’re the wealthiest person I’ve ever met; you deserve to be able to buy yourself flowers without Clay having to do it for you.”
Felice stared at him, her mouth opening and closing a few times, like she couldn’t quite come up with a reply.
“I- I guess you’re right.” But she didn’t quite sound convinced. What else could he say to convince her? He went back inside past her, irritated with this whole situation. How could she be so blind? Felice was not the kind of woman who needed her mother or Clay to make her world a perfect place. She had that kind of power all by herself.
But Felice was the type of girl who could only play by the rules. And Pierce, no matter how sound his advice might seem, was just a guy who broke them.
He had to remind himself again that he wasn’t here to actually become part of Felice’s life. He was just here for the money.
Just here for the money. Maybe if he said it to himself enough, he would start to believe it.
# # #
Felice
Feeling a little awkward, Felice could do nothing but watch as Pierce tossed all of those lovely roses. She mourned their loss, not because of who sent them, but merely because they were so beautiful. They looked like they belonged in her kitchen, and she didn’t really want to part with them. Why couldn’t he have thrown out the ugly tennis bracelet instead?
“It’s for a good cause,” she told herself again. But every day that went by without Clay by her side, it seemed like less and less of good cause. She didn’t want him anymore. But she needed him.
Confused and unhappy, she stood on the porch, trying to ignore Pierce as he took out the last of the pretty flowers to the trash.
After washing his hands in the kitchen sink like a barbarian, Pierce turned back to Felice, his eyes locked on her face. The sudden scrutiny made her a little uncomfortable, even as it lit all sorts of fires down low in her belly. What was he staring at so intently?
“So, why are you doing this?” he asked, finally, his voice void of emotion.
“To get Clay back,” she said, almost automatically.
Pierce narrowed his chocolate eyes at her, making her squirm a little in her seat. But she refused to back down. “Do you even want Clay back?”
Felice laughed. “Of course not! But it’s the right thing to do. He’s stable and photogenic. You know, for the show. He’s good for my career. He’s good for TV. We polled a bunch of people, and they loved him.”
Looking flabbergasted, Pierce just stared at her for a long moment. Finally, he said, “Are you trying to find a boyfriend or are you looking for an employee? Because it’s starting to sound like you don’t even know what a lover is supposed to be like.”
There was a kind of standoff in the kitchen for a moment, Felice being stubborn and Pierce following suit. They stared each other down, brows furrowing and tempers flaring, until Felice looked away, sighing and putting her face down into her hands. “I know what it looks like. And I hate him for what he did to me and my best friend. You know he lied to her to get her in bed with him?”
Pierce made a noise like a growl in the back of his throat as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the machine. He poured a little of the creamer in, sipping it without even stirring it, like the barbarian he was.
“I no longer enjoy going to work. I no longer have the drive that I used to have for Steel Dom Couture. It was, up until Clay cheated on me, my whole life. And now, it feels — ” She hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath. Taking her face out of her hands, she looked up at him, feeling tears fill the edges of her eyes. “It feels empty.
“I’m trying to patch things up with Jenn, but it all feels empty.” The word seemed to explain everything she had felt since she walked in on the two of them having sex. Although the void had temporarily been filled with the anger, desire for vengeance, or despair at points, the fact was that Clay had left a hole in her. A hole she’d been desperately trying to fill. But Clay was the only thing that seemed to be the right-shaped puzzle piece to put her life back together.
Felice got up from her seat, her feet carrying her back and forth over the white tile of the kitchen floor. Pierce watched her every step, a bird of prey waiting for his chance to swoop in and make the kill. “I have to think about the family and the TV show and my store. And Clay is the best person to fill the void. He is what we need — ”
Felice didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence. Pierce finally lost interest in listening, rushing forward to capture her in his massive arms. She cried out in surprise as she collapsed under his sudden weight. She ended up on the loveseat next to the TV, Pierce positioned above her. The position reminded her very poignantly of the dream she’d woken up from that morning, and her heart stopped in her chest, her body reacting immediately from his bruising touch.
“Do you love Clay or not?” Pierce asked, pinning her to the couch.
“Let me up,” Felice snapped, her temper flaring just as quickly as her lust. “Now.”
A snort of frustration. “Just answer the question.”
“I don’t know! Now let me up!” Felice squirmed, trying to break free of his impossible hold.
Before she could say anything else, Pierce had pressed his mouth to hers, leaving no room for words. His mouth was searing hot and lit every inch of her body on fire. Hyper aware of every place their bodies touched, Felice moaned like a porn star into his mouth, her body craving his like an addict.
Eyes boiling with passion, Pierce pulled back to stare down at her, holding her wrists in place. His breath was hurried like he’d run a race. Felice felt the same, her heart banging hard against her ribcage. “When will you ever just forget what is best for your show, your family, or your public and worry about what’s best for you, Felice?”
And she melted when he said her name. Pierce was the most beautiful thing in the world, and right then, nothing else mattered.
Chapter Twelve
Pierce
Fuck.
Pierce was pinning the most beautiful creature in the world to the couch, and his body had some very clear ideas where this should go next. Those beautiful, green, bedroom eyes glittered up at him like a promise. Pierce no longer seemed in control of his own body as he bent forward again, his mouth finding hers as though drawn there by gravity.
This kiss was far gentler, questioning. The warm, beautiful body underneath his arched up to meet him, her breasts brushing against his chest. It almost sent him over the edge; he nearly growled as he buried his face against her neck, nibbling, kissing, and teasing the hot skin he found underneath her perfect, blonde hair.
She squirmed underneath him, little pornographic noises slipping from her throat over and over again, egging him on.
Before he even realized he was drowning, he was in too deep to swim to the surface. Never in his life had he ever wanted anything as much as he wanted Felice. The desire for her body, for all of her, seemed to go deeper than his need for food, water, or air. At least at the moment. “How had she caught me so easily, so fast?”
Felice managed to wrestle her wrists free, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him down on top of her body. Her legs she wrapped closer, pulling him like she could no longer live without him closer. Warm hands slid under the fabric of his t-shirt, caressing every dip and curve of his stomach. Pierce growled again, this time into her mouth, and the noise seemed to drive her harder.
They were kissing harder now, hands feverishly exploring each other’s bodies. Pierce ran his fingers reverently over every inch of her neck and shoulders, his touch trickling down he
r arms to her torso. The cinnamon scent of her filled him with a desire so keen it was painful, slicing deep into his self-control.
This was a mistake, and they both knew it, but nothing seemed to be able to stop them.
She cried out in pleasure as his fingers brushed over the curve of her breast, the electricity between them bringing sensations like neither had ever felt. His lips slid down her neck to her collarbones, tracing the long line of her shoulder around to the curve of her arm. Feeling her hands explore his body in turn was driving him crazy, and his erection strained almost painfully toward her.
Pierce had never wanted anything in the world like he wanted Felice.
“Please, Pierce,” Felice begged, her voice ragged with something deeper than lust. “Touch me.”
Pierce decided he liked it a lot when she begged. Without hesitation, his hands slid under her shirt of their own volition, his strong hands running along the soft, hot skin of her belly. Caressing every inch of skin, Pierce pulled the little sweater she wore up and over her breasts, then off completely. She lay before him, her mouth swollen from kisses, and her eyes dark with desire. Pierce’s eyes drank her in.
Suddenly, he dove forward, pressing his mouth against her body, finding the sharp curve of her collarbone again, then dipping lower. He found the lacy, silky edges of her bra, teasing the curves of her with lips and tongue as she moaned underneath him. She ground her hips against his, each movement driving Pierce forward.
They managed to pull each other out of most of their clothing, leaving almost nothing between them but a few, thin scraps of fabric. Felice closed her beautiful green eyes, her perfect lips parting as she threw her head back, her body melding to his. She moaned his name, content to writhe against his skin. Pierce tumbled her to the white carpet, groaning as he unclasped her bra, letting those perfect breasts free. They were beautiful, the little dusty pink nipples as hard as glass.
Pierce ran the tip of his tongue over the hardened skin. Felice gasped, her fingernails digging into the tattooed flesh of his shoulders, her eyes still closed, her head still thrown back. Writhing on the carpet below him, Felice continued to make sexy little noises in the back of her throat as he continued to kiss her breast, nibbling carefully on the delicate skin just to watch her thrash under him.
She wiggled out from under him, slippery as a cat, grinning wickedly. Pierce rolled over, watching as the newly freed Felice ran her eyes over every inch of his body, her gaze tracing the outlines of every one of his tattoos. The lust in her eyes filled him with heat, his cock standing at attention. Her eyes slid down his body to it, pink tongue darting across her perfect lips before she crawled back to him.
Pierce nearly came right then as the most beautiful woman in the world pulled his shorts down to expose his cock, and swallowed it whole. Colors burst across his vision as she alternately sucked and swallowed him, her hot, wet tongue swirling over the head of him. He grabbed hard onto the couch behind him as that clever tongue massaged the length of his shaft.
“Fuck,” he gasped. The world had narrowed down to the feel of Felice’s mouth on his dick, and he’d never ever felt anything like it in his life.
She brought him to the very edge before letting up, grinning at him before she crawled closer to lay a sloppy kiss on his parted lips. Felice’s tongue slipped between his lips, that clever tongue that had nearly undone him.
Pierce slid his hands down over her body, finding her hips and massaging them hard with his hands. Felice moaned into his mouth, but he wanted to watch her writhe. He wanted her to cry out his name over and over again in pleasure, and he was going to do whatever he had to see that fantasy come to life.
Fingers exploring, Pierce found a spot she liked to be touched pretty quickly. Her pussy was dripping wet already, slick with the juices he was dying to taste. He would find every place she wanted to be kissed, to be touched, and make her cum again and again.
He wanted Felice to be completely his if only for one, long night.
# # #
Pierce
Felice screamed Pierce’s name again, heedless of neighbors or anything else. She wanted this moment to never end. As Pierce slid his thumb inside of her, his tongue found the hot, boiling center of her, caressing all of the right places to make her writhe with pleasure. No one had ever touched her so expertly in her whole life. Sex with Clay had never been like this; Felice could feel Pierce’s desire to please her over and over again, and she found herself begging for every touch and caress that would get her there.
His mouth worked over her, licking, sucking, and tasting every inch of her dripping pussy, ferreting out her favorite places so he could exploit them. Slipping his thumb inside her again, he massaged and teased as his mouth explored her throbbing womanhood.
Biting her lip, Felice grabbed a hold of Pierce’s head. Her nails scratched gently against his scalp to pull him closer to her, to press his hot, wet mouth harder against her clit again and again. Unable to keep still, Felice rolled her hips against his tongue, aching to be closer, harder, faster. “Oh, Pierce, right there. Yes, yes, yes!” She was crying out, her hips undulating against his questing mouth hard and fast. She could feel herself right at the edge of an orgasm she was pretty sure she would never recover from. Her whole body shook with its coming, a tidal wave that started in the base of her spine and spread out like a gas fire from the center of her being out to the edges of her being.
She screamed something, his name or some profanity probably, as that wave crested over her, crashing hard into her body. Her climax shook the whole damned world, and she screamed again, the aftershocks of the pleasure slamming into her repeatedly. Time disappeared in a torrential downpour of physical sensation, curling her toes and filling her emerald eyes with tears.
It took a solid minute for her to come down enough to speak again. “Fuck,” she whispered, her whole body covered with a thin sheen of sweat and the thick scent of sex. Every place Pierce had touched burned, like he’d put his fingerprints in lava all over her skin.
“Such language from a lady,” Pierce said. He was sitting on carpet on his knees, Felice straddling his lap and leaning back against the sofa.
“You’ve been a terrible influence,” she gasped in reply as Pierce’s questing cock found her dripping wet entrance. He’d found a condom somewhere in the house, and had somehow slid it on while she wasn’t paying attention. “Good thing too; I’m so far gone, I’m not sure I would have remembered.”
But all of her thoughts dissolved again as soon as the head of him entered her too-tight entrance, still vibrating with the massive earthquake that had just rocked it. Pierce’s huge member cut Felice in two, stretching her out in a mix of pleasure and pain that felt like heaven.
“All the way in!” she demanded, her voice rough from all of her screaming. “Fuck me now, Pierce!” Clawing at his back, Felice tried to force the whole of him inside of her, but Pierce wouldn’t be rushed.
Much to her delight and despair, he took a long time sliding his dick inside of her body as she fought to thrust hard against him. But once he was inside, Felice threw back her head in delight. He was perfect, the length of him caressing all of the places she wanted to feel him without being too big. It was like he was built for her, the width of him filling her up until it was just the perfect amount of pained pleasure.
Deliberately taking each of her tiny wrists in his massive, masculine hands, Pierce pinned her to the couch. With eyes that were so feral they were barely human staring her down, he pulled out, then slammed into her body like a freight train. The rhythm he set made her whole body scream in pleasure, and she fucked him back, hard. Hips gyrating to the tune of his music, Felice mewled in time with his thrusts, demanding more and more, harder and deeper into her body.
Roughly, Pierce picked her up and tossed her onto the couch on her stomach, a heavy hand in the middle of her back, holding her down as he thrust into her dripping pussy from behind. The new angle almost shattered her again, the pleasure fro
m the feel of him inside of her dragging her to the edge of climax. It was building so high and fast that she knew this orgasm would drown her.
He was so powerful, so strong, his cock like a jackhammer inside of her, caressing all of the right places as he plowed her again and again.
When she came the second time, she saw stars, the whole world disappearing behind a gossamer curtain of pleasure. She felt him fall over the edge a moment later, a shout of her name, then a shivering stillness. It took a long time for them to come down off of their high, Felice’s whole body quivering with remembered, shared pleasure.
“Was it good for you?” she whispered, her breath coming in gasps that made her breasts heave against the scratchy fabric of the couch. It was too much; the nerves in every inch of her body were overrun. This little brush was enough to make her cry out, gasping with the rough feel against her skin.