by Cee Smith
With her career and his reputation on the line, not to mention a looming court case that could decide both of their fates, Blaire and Joel run the risk of losing it all. The secret’s out at the firm, and Joel wants Blaire as far removed from the case as possible, but she may be just what he needs to win.
Was it doomed from the start?
Blaire’s the first person Joel’s ever had a real connection with, but if he loses this case, their relationship may be over before it even begins.
Nothing worth having ever comes easy, but just how far are they willing to go?
Shut Off is intended for mature audiences due to explicit language and mature themes.
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© 2015 Cee Smith
Editing by Erica’s Editing Services
Cover Design © Najla Qamber Designs
Shut Off (Just This Once series, Book 3)
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Chapter One
Joel
I entered the room, the doors breaking open with a slight nudge of the tray I was carrying. Just like the last few days, Blaire lay curled up, with blankets tucked beneath her chin. She looked so peaceful in sleep—a comfort I was happy to give her. After seeing those photos of her door splattered in some blood-like substance and her suspension at work, I knew she was rattled by what she inevitably became involved in—by no fault of her own. I wanted to do what I could to make her feel at ease, at least for a little while. Hence the tray laden with a croissant, coffee—just the way she liked—orange juice, bacon, eggs, and toast with some fig & blackberry jam that made her eyes roll back in her head like her taste buds were orgasming. If I was being completely honest, I got hard the last two days watching her eat the toast. Talk about morning wood.
As I neared the bed, I could see her feet twitch beneath the sheets. Slowly her body unfurled as if waking up limb by limb, until her eyelids fluttered and blinked like I imagined a baby seeing for the first time, taking in her surroundings. She pulled the sheet with her, and I mentally groaned at the missed opportunity to see her luscious body—a body that begged to be adored. It was what initially drew me to her, and after some pleading and her run-in with Lara, I finally had her right where I wanted her. Now I just had to find a way to convince her to stay.
“Good morning. Looks like I’ve got good timing.”
“Or I just so happened to wake up at the same time your chef was done preparing breakfast,” she replied with a disbelieving quirk to her eyebrow. So maybe she was right. This was the time that Dennis typically arrived in the morning to start preparations for the day. I didn’t usually eat such an elaborate breakfast; mine was usually a shake, jam-packed with all kinds of seeds, fruits, and veggies. It looked and tasted awful, but it gave me energy, especially on the days I could hit up the gym for a couple hours.
“But this was made just for you. With love,” I replied, smiling. I’d never met a bigger skeptic than Blaire, which made taunting her that much more gratifying.
“Are you finally going to tell me what’s going on?”
“I’m bringing you breakfast in bed, that’s what’s going on.”
“I see that.”
“So why don’t you shut up and let me feed you, unless you’re hungry for something else.” I grinned—not waiting for those glowering eyes to fall on me—piling a bit of scrambled eggs onto the fork and zipping them through the air before holding the fork pressed against her lips for entry. The expression on her face was one that was unamused by my flying fork or the fact that I was treating her like a toddler who needed to be entertained by the piece of silverware holding her next bite. I ignored this look, mainly because she looked adorable with those large, soft brown doe eyes that didn’t seem to convey anger or annoyance, despite how hard she pressed her lips together, or the clench of her teeth, or the lock of her jaw. One look at those eyes and I just wanted to wrap her up in my arms and dote on her like the precious thing she was.
And then I watched the tines of the fork indent her bottom lip and shift between her tightly pressed lips. I remembered the way those same lips looked sucking down my cock like a fucking Dyson vacuum and I forgot all about how sweet and innocent and precious she was. I remembered how sweet she tasted, how innocent she mewed like a cat while I sank into her, and how precious the walls of her cunt felt. From the inside.
Just when I forgot about the fork full of eggs, she opened her mouth and closed down. I could have shot a load off just at the thought of that mouth opening up to receive me, slipping down my cock one inch at a time. God, she took me down like a pro. I’d never been so jealous of an inanimate object.
I watched her chew, like the fucking sap I was, but for once it didn’t seem to matter to me how lovesick I looked. In my 27 years, Lara’s was the longest relationship I’d been in, but even that felt like nothing more than having a semi-permanent fuck buddy. She wasn’t someone I imagined spending my life with, and looking back, we never had a conversation that had any depth to it, but maybe that was because she wasn’t complex enough to muster up a deep conversation.
Like I said, fuck buddy.
Blaire was different. I wanted to know Blaire, and I wanted Blaire to know me. Yes, I liked giving her a hard time, but she liked it. I could see it in the way she rolled her eyes or shifted her hands on her hips. Her sexual energy was potent. Like a tranquilizer dart to the neck, she infected me and I welcomed the loss of all logical thought and control.
“Joel, have you talked to your lawy—”
I brought the jam covered toast to her mouth, forcing her to take another bite. With eyes full of suspicion, she bit down, letting out a little moan as her jaws worked to chew the food.
The conversation continued that way—her trying to ask questions and me feeding her to avoid providing answers. When the tray was empty and placed back on the nightstand beside the bed, I realized I’d have to find another way to distract her.
If Blaire ever got that promotion she wanted, allowing her to present cases in court, I knew she would be formidable. She was unrelenting with her questioning, but as much as I wanted to open myself up for her to read every chapter, every page, every sentence—that was the one area I didn’t want her to see. Like the hidden track of a record, I wanted this case to remain just out of reach.
“You know I’m trying to help you, right? Why are you avoiding my question?” she asked, aggravated with my evasiveness.
“I know all you want to do is help, but I don’t want you in any deeper than you already are. You don’t know Lara. Hell, I barely recognize the person capable of the things she’s done.”
“I worked, work—I don’t know anymore, but I have the experience to deal with these things. Use me.”
&nbs
p; “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”
I gave her a sly wink as I practically hopped on top of her, pressing her into the sheets. Her legs parted around me and her breath hitched and nipples pebbled, showing me the full effect I had on her body. I grinned at the thought and pulled the sheet back, revealing her delicate white skin and pinkened rosebuds ready to be picked and plucked and licked and sucked. My cock was bruised from over-usage (believe me, over-usage is a thing, just like blue balls).
It was with Herculean force that I convinced her to stay with me, and I still expected she would up and leave at any moment. I was hell-bent on getting my fill of her in the event she decided to leave at the drop of a hat. After weeks of trying to get back into her good graces, I knew how uncertain she was about us being together.
“Now it’s your turn to feed me. Hold your tits just like this. Fuck.” I groaned as her hands replaced mine, pushing her tits together until her nipples were practically touching. She offered them up to me like a chalice to a king. Her eyes were heavy, and her chest heaved with want. I paused, taking stock of the way my mouth salivated at the vixen before me. Her skin blushed the color of California sunsets, and I wished I had my camera handy. I wanted to remember her this way—needy, full of desire and temptation, and ready for every decadent promise I had in store for her.
I descended on her, clutching her shoulders as if she would wiggle her way out from beneath me. The eighty pounds I had on her ensured she wasn’t going anywhere, but it wasn’t the physical Blaire I was trying to hold down. I wanted to embed my talons so deeply into her heart that to leave me would rip her apart.
“You look so ripe for the taking, like a little piece of fruit ready to be plucked. You like it when I fuck you raw, don’t you, Blaire? You like being a dirty little girl with me. I’m exactly what you need, Blaire. You were waiting for me. Waiting for a man who would know what to do with this sinful little body. I’m not even close to showing you everything I can do with you. See, you still have some notion that you can actually live without this dick, and I’m going to show you how wrong you are.”
“Is that right? Well…show me what you’re made of.”
She gave me a devilish smirk. She had no idea what it did to me to see her like that—lying in my bed, with a spark of fire in her eyes, and her little hands clutching the fullness of her tits. It was hard enough to remember that I was a human and not a fucking savage when it came to pleasuring her, but the way she taunted me made me want to roll her off onto the floor and fuck her clean into the rug like a goddamn animal.
“You’re asking for it.”
Heat licked up my spine and squeezed at my balls, priming me for my inevitable release. I descended on her dusky nipples, taking them both into my mouth with the thirst of a desert-dweller and she was an ocean of perfect crystalline water. I lapped at her with vigor. Her eyes closed, but her hands still held her tits to my mouth while she moaned out her excitement. I licked around her nipples, tracing the curvature of her plump breasts while my hands moved down to her hips. I pushed the sheet the rest of the way down her body and moved her leg to wrap around me. The other one followed suit, caging me into her embrace.
“Joel,” she whispered between moans. I knew just what I was doing to her, knew just the way to get her body to peak performance. She enjoyed the buildup almost more than when I took her over the edge, dropping her into the abundance of her orgasm.
My eyes slipped down her body to where my hands wrapped around her thighs. It was there where the disparity of our sizes was most obvious, where my hand wrapped around both the front and back of her thigh, maybe an inch or two shy of actually wrapping completely around her limb. Her skin was so soft and delicate, the perfect canvas for my bruising touch. Just then, I had a flashback to the way her skin flashed stop-sign red as I slapped her bouncing tits while she rode my cock.
“I think I’m going to need a close-up view. Hold tight.”
I held her thighs open to my perusal, spreading her lips open, to watch her cunt tighten, reaching for something to hold onto, something to pull into its depths. It was like she was calling to me as sure as if she’d crooked her finger, luring me in closer.
The morning sun flooded the room, allowing me to see everything. The flush of her skin, the moisture that beaded there waiting for the smooth stroke of my tongue, the way she scooted across the mattress—every move so minuscule—but displaying her impatience with every centimeter she drew closer.
Smiling to myself, I snuggled in closer, creating a sealant with my lips. She squeaked a soft sound and wiggled down against my mouth. Grasping her waist, I tilted her hips up so I could effectively give her the tonguing that she so desperately sought. I flicked my tongue rapidly against her entrance, and with each tap against her quivering flesh, I could feel her pulse echo back its own rhythm. Looking up her body, I watched her chest move a rapid pace, up and down as she tried to catch her breath.
“Doesn’t sound like you have much to say now, does it?”
Her hands patted around my head, finding the “just right” angle to sink her hands into my hair, giving me a tug—a response to my taunt. She slammed me back between her legs, and I moved down her clit, past her opening, until I felt her tightly coiled ring that was begging to be owned since the first night she took me home. Or did I take her home? Her home, my car—semantics.
She had much the same reaction now as she did the first night when my hands sought to find the first place she wanted to be fucked. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, I could see her contemplating my silent question. I circled the puckered flesh, waiting for the first sign of her approval. When she still held a mask of uncertainty, I moved in slowly, letting her watch my every move like a snake about to strike. I parted her lips and trailed my tongue from mound all the way back, slowing just as I reached her back entrance. Without her stopping me, I forged on.
Her hips lifted from the bed, and I knew I broke through the last of her resistance.
“Oh my god,” she yelped as I pressed my tongue deeper into her cavity, slipping past the spot fighting my entrance.
“You didn’t know it could feel that good, did you? Put your hands on the headboard. Don’t move them.”
She bore down on my tongue as I slipped back inside her, showing her reaction to my words. She loved it when I talked dirty to her, when I told her all the ways I planned on using her body and making her mine. I owned her as much with my words as I did my body. I fucked her with my tongue and fingers, continuously pulling her body to the ledge and letting her dangle there with a desperation that made her whole body shake. The tingles that pulsed through your veins from an orgasm denied was torture. The last couple weeks, without the ability to sate myself inside her, left me a little sexually frustrated. So what? I was taking it out on her; she would thank me for it later.
I was fighting off my own orgasm that threatened to burst free at just the taste and scent of her musky arousal, but the burn of her need etched into my skin had me leaking pre-come like a car with a busted gasket. A quick look at the sheets and I could see my cock swiping through the mess of fluids, the fabric clinging to my skin like glue. Instead of watching the look of euphoria wash over her face, I was too busy clenching my eyes to stop myself from erupting all over her. I didn’t want to come yet, not like that, not until I was buried so deep inside her she’d have to douche to get all of my come out.
“I’m coming. Joel, Joel, ah!” she said between panting and screaming out her release. I continued my assault on her, burying my fingers in her to the hilt, curving them against that spot that made her choke on her screams before screaming louder. A second torrent of juices flooded my hand, pooling in the center of my palm. I licked that up too, like a dog with peanut butter stuck to its fur.
***
“Fuck me, that was amazing. Tell me we can stay in this bed forever,” I said as my cock still clung to the shelter of Blaire’s body. The tension that had been climbing through my system all
morning had finally released as I came inside Blaire, and I felt like I could think clearly again.
“Your hermit days are over.”
“Mmm, I think I could get you to change your mind.”
I slipped out of her, watching my semi-hard cock release a torrent of drippings as I freed myself from her confinement. Rolling over, I pulled Blaire snug against my chest, where I could watch her chest rise and fall over her shoulder, or the way the strands framing her face lifted and fell with every breath that passed her lips. Everything about Blaire fascinated me.
“OK, so you don’t want to talk to me about the case. Then tell me about Lara.”
“Lara? Why do you want to talk about her, here and now, after what we just did?” I was sure as shit not in the right frame of mind to think about my ex, so I had no idea how Blaire could casually bring up her name as if we were talking about nothing more than morning traffic.
She rolled over, adjusting her head on my shoulder and throwing an arm across my chest—trying to pin me in a subtle way.
“Why are you avoiding it?” she asked, her eyes transfixed on mine. There was a depth to that solid brown stare of hers. I didn’t know if it was unsettling because it was the first time I remembered a woman looking me solely in my eyes or if it was the way she looked at me. Blaire didn’t stray, didn’t let her sight absorb the rest of me like so many other women.
I love working out, I love my body, I love women, but Blaire looks at me and I can see she believes those things to be irrelevant.
“What do you want to know?” I asked with a sigh.
“Where did you meet her? What was she like? I saw old pictures of her, and to be honest, she kind of looked like your typical college student.”
She shrugged her shoulders, the innocent movement shaking my chest. I knew what she meant. I thought the same thing when I saw Lara the first time.