by B. B. Hamel
I stare at her panties. Navy blue with white polka dots and a little bit of lace around the edges.
She pushes her legs closed. “What are you doing?”
“Testing something.”
“Testing what?”
I push her legs open again. She still doesn’t resist me.
“You can tell a lot about what a woman’s thinking based on the underwear she chooses.”
Carly bites her lip. “What do mine say?”
I smirk and lean closer. I slowly slide my right hand up her thigh and press it against her pussy overtop of her panties. I can feel her heat radiating off, and slowly her wet pussy starts to drip through the thin cotton.
“It says you’re lying to yourself,” I whisper in her ear.
She doesn’t have time to say anything in response. I stoop down and push her skirt up, hiking it up around her hips. I grab her and pull her against my mouth, kissing her pussy with my tongue.
She gasps, surprised. I lick the fabric, tasting cotton and pussy. It tastes fucking good as I reach up with one hand to pull her panties and slip them aside.
Her pussy is pink and glistening wet. I can barely control myself. I want to fuck her, right here and now. I want to slide my cock deep, pump in and out of this incredible tight cunt, but it’s not time for that. She’s not ready.
Instead, I’m going to taste her, and give her a taste of what I can make her feel.
I lick her little pussy, smooth and clean, top to bottom. She lets out this little groan as I start to tongue her clit, rolling along it, tasting her delicious fucking juice.
“God damn,” I croon, teasing her with my fingers. “Fucking perfect. You know how you taste?”
“No,” she says, blinking.
I lick her pussy then stand up and kiss her.
She seems shocked at first, but quickly melts into it. I push my tongue along hers, letting her taste her own pussy.
“That’s how you taste,” I say, dropping back down between her legs.
“Shit,” she moans as I tongue her again, lapping her up, sucking and licking her clit. “I’ve never…”
I slide two fingers deep inside. “Tasted yourself?”
She nods, mouth open.
I slide my fingers back out and clean them off with my tongue. “You’re delicious. You really are.”
She bites her lip. “No way. You’re just being…”
I slide my fingers inside of her again, and this time, I make her clean them off.
She groans, sucking on my fingers. I tease her clit with my other hand and when she’s done, I decide not to play around anymore.
I slide my fingers back inside, curling them to tease her, finding the spot that’ll drive her wild. I drop down to suck and lick her clit, tonguing her little spot, making her hips rock.
This is only the beginning for her. She doesn’t know what she’s signed up for, but now she’s getting a taste.
And I’m getting a taste of this delicious fucking pussy.
I can barely control myself. It’s taking all my strength not to pull her off this counter, turn her around, and fuck her until she screams. I’d leave her in a puddle of her own cum when I finish with her.
But not yet. So close, but not yet.
I fuck her faster with my fingers. The sound of her moans reverberates through my ears. I fuck her deep, curling them, pressing against that spot. I lick her clit, sucking, eating, using teeth and tongue and lips, everything to drive her wild.
She rolls her hips faster, grabbing my hair with one hand. I go with her, match her speed and intensity. I bury my fingers deep, pushing her further, sliding in and out. The moans keep me going, keep me fucking hard.
“Oh, god, Davis,” she whispers. “You fucking asshole.”
“That’s right, insult me,” I say, fucking her with my fingers nice and fast. “You want to come, don’t you?”
Her eyes flash anger at me. “Yes,” she breathes.
“Then tell me how much you love my mouth on your pussy.”
“No way,” she says, eyes wide.
“Say it, Carly.”
“I love your…” She trails off.
“Say it.”
“I love your lips on my pussy. There, okay? Asshole.”
I push my fingers deep, making her gasp. I kiss her, bite her lower lip. “You say you want to play along, but I think you’re not obeying me at all yet.”
“I don’t have to obey anyone,” she says, teeth clenched.
“I think you do.” I slide my fingers in and out. “Tell me you want me to get you off.”
“Get me off.” Her hand grips my hair, pulling. “Get me off, you asshole.”
I grin at her, bite her lip again. “Say please.”
“Please,” she groans.
I drop down between her legs and I give her what she wants.
I lick her clit fast, sucking, tongue rolling. I fuck her with my fingers, pushing her, moving fast. Her hips roll and I keep my rhythm, matching her pace, and we move like that. It’s a dance, a fucking dance. I know she’s close, I can tell by the way her moans are completely unrestricted.
Finally, it comes. The orgasm rips through her, a powerful wave that sweeps up every muscle in her body, makes her throw her head back, a smile on her lips.
“That’s right,” I whisper, a thrill of desire running through me. “Come for your husband.”
She groans and slowly the orgasm finishes. When she’s done, I step back, leaning against the stove. I clean her off my fingers while she watches.
That was one of the sexiest fucking things I’ve ever seen. That orgasm was so intense, so incredible. She’s breathing heavily, staring at me with a mixture of desire, anger, lust, and hatred. It’s one of the most complicated things I’ve ever seen.
And I love it. She pushes her panties back into position and slowly hops off the counter.
“Your breakfast is ready,” she says as she walks out of the kitchen. “Enjoy, asshole.”
I grin and watch her walk down the hall. Her ass sways just a little bit. She looks over her shoulder as she mounts the steps and, buried under the anger, I can see the desire still there.
She walks upstairs and I smile to myself.
Yeah, being married is going to be fucking fun.
5
Carly
Living with Davis is strange.
I don’t know how to approach anything. None of this stuff is mine, and yet I live here. He’s my husband, and yet he’s not really.
Not to mention I still hate him. And I’m far from trusting him.
That moment in the kitchen was just a lapse. I baited him into it, practically. I knew what I was doing, wearing that dress, cooking breakfast for him. I was trying to test him, trying to mess with him.
Really, that backfired on me hard.
He leaves the house maybe a half hour after that little thing in the kitchen, whatever it was. I don’t ask where he’s going, and he doesn’t offer.
I do get changed, though. I put on sweats and boring underwear.
Because screw him.
As I sit in front of the TV, I can feel myself buzzing still. That orgasm was amazing, I mean, one of the best orgasms of my entire freaking life. I’ve been with other guys of course, and they’ve even gotten me off a few times, but never, ever, ever like that.
Never with such confidence. Never with such intensity.
The way he looked at me, made me taste myself…
He was controlling. He was teasing.
And it was amazing.
I try not to think about my husband. My fake asshole husband that I hate. The guy that hooked up with my best friend years ago and bragged about it to me, even though he knew that I was in love with him.
The guy that broke my heart. And now he’s back to do it again.
I sigh, shaking my head, trying to dispel the worry and regret.
I’m here and this is happening. After a bit, we’ll get divorced, and I’ll get paid.
>
Easy, no problem.
It’s almost like I can start to believe my own bullshit as the day slowly slips past.
I lose myself in more reality TV, trying not to think.
I check the clock and it’s nearly noon when my phone starts to ring. I feel like a coma patient coming back to the world.
I answer it. “Hello?”
“Sweetie, did you get married?”
I blink, surprised.
It’s my mom.
“Mom, hey,” I say.
“I just read this thing online about you. My friend Jeannie sent it to me, and it says you married some rich guy named Davis? In his office? And your ring is worth a million dollars?”
“Half a million,” I correct her.
There’s silence on the other end.
“Mom, I’m sorry,” I say. “It all happened so fast.”
“So fast that you got married without telling me?”
I can hear the hurt in her voice, and it almost breaks me. I almost tell her the truth, spill it all, admit everything.
But then I remember I can’t. If I want this to work… it has to stay a secret.
Otherwise, no money. Nothing.
“I’m sorry,” I say stupidly.
She clears her throat. “Well. Okay. Is he nice?”
“Yes,” I lie. “He’s very nice. You’d like him.”
“Your father and I want to meet him.”
I bite my lip. “Where is dad?”
“He’s… out,” she says.
“Right. Of course he is.” I push the anger down. For once, I deserve my father’s silence.
I have a complicated relationship with Richard Miller. We were close when I was younger, but as I got older and my interests diverged from his own, he started to… resent me.
Strangely, impossibly. When I skipped college to go into acting, he was angry as hell. Yelled, screamed, threatened. My mother’s the only thing that kept him from really going over the line.
They supported me for two years out in LA but I knew that wouldn’t last. He cut me off without warning, and hasn’t talked to me much since.
I don’t hate him. I feel like I understand why he did it. I just wish he had been kinder to me.
I just wish…
Well.
It doesn’t matter.
What’s past is past.
This marriage isn’t going to fix my dead relationship with my father. I can accept that.
I just hope it doesn’t hurt my relationship with my mom.
Mom sighs. “Listen, honey. He saw the article too and he wasn’t…”
“He was disappointed. I know. I’m used to it.”
Another short silence. “Honey, you have to understand. We’re a little confused. This happened so fast. You never even mentioned this guy.”
I bite my lip. “We’ve known each other a long time. It happened fast but… it’s good.”
“Are you happy?” she asks.
“I am,” I say softly.
“Okay,” she says. “I won’t pretend like I understand or approve, but what’s done is done.”
“Thanks,” I say. That’s about as close to my mother congratulating me as I’ll ever get.
“We’d like to meet him,” she says.
“We?”
“Your father, too.”
“Really?”
Short silence. I can hear her say something to someone nearby. “Yes, he does,” she says into the receiver. “When can we do it?”
“Soon, I promise.”
“Okay, good. I’ll call you again soon.”
“Thanks, mom. I love you.”
“Love you too, honey.”
She hangs up the phone. Guilt threatens to crash over me.
I sit there and stare at the TV. I don’t know what to think, but right now, my whole mind is a mess.
My parents know about this. It’s real, and my mother… she’s disappointed. And my father wants to meet him, or at least my mother is going to force him to…
The phone starts ringing again. I figure it’s Mom calling back with something she forgot to say.
I answer it right away. “Hello?”
“Hello, Carly.”
I bite my lip almost instinctively. “What do you want?”
Davis chuckles softly. “That’s not how you greet your husband.”
I put a fake smile on my face. “Hey, sweetie pie,” I say, sweet as syrup.
He laughs again. “That’s good. Listen, you need to come to the office.”
I frown. “What for? I thought we were on our honeymoon.”
“It’s delayed,” he says. “I need you here. A car’s on the way. Get dressed.”
I clench my jaw. “Is this how it’s gonna be, you just ordering me around all the time?”
“More or less.”
I clench my jaw. “My mom just called me,” I say, changing the subject abruptly.
He hesitates. “I’m not surprised.”
“She was surprised. There’s some article about us? She knows details, Davis.”
“Of course she does. We put out a press release along with some preliminary photos.”
I stare at the wall for a second, digesting this. “And you didn’t warn me?” I say softly.
“It’s all part of the deal,” he says.
“My parents know. And they’re upset.”
He hesitates again. This time, his voice is softer. Almost… apologetic.
“What did you think would happen, Carly?”
“I don’t know!” I explode. “I thought I could tell them before they found out on their own.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted that.”
“You never asked.”
He sighs. “I can’t read your mind.”
I grind my teeth for a second. “Fine. Okay. Whatever. They want to meet you.”
“Fine,” he says. “We’ll make that happen. Actually, that’s good. It’ll add more realism to all this.”
“It’s all about you, isn’t it?” I say softly. “Do you even care how this is affecting me?”
“No,” he says. “You had a choice. You chose money and this deal. The car’s on the way.”
“You asshole. You’ve always been a selfish prick.”
“Get dressed,” he says, sounding tired. “I’ll see you soon.”
He hangs up the phone before I can yell at him some more.
I sit there, seething with rage.
He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He only thinks about what’s best for this situation, for getting through this and getting what he wants. That’s the only thing he ever thinks about.
He doesn’t give a shit about me.
I’m just a means to an end.
I stand up, almost shaking with rage.
But… he’s right about something.
I chose this.
I didn’t have to sign those papers. I didn’t have to take his deal.
I didn’t have to kiss him. I didn’t have to let him get me off…
His fingers graze my skin again. I shut my eyes and will them away.
I open my eyes again and take in the unfamiliar house.
He’s right. I chose this.
That doesn’t mean he has to be a dick about it.
Slowly, I start to move. I head upstairs. I get dressed.
I play the game because that’s the game I chose to play.
When the car comes, I get inside without a word, and it whisks me away.
6
Davis
After that phone call, I can’t stop thinking about what she said.
“Do you think I’m selfish?”
Avah looks up from the conference table on the other side of the office. She frowns a little. “She’s getting to you, huh?”
“Just answer the question.”
She leans back, considering. “Sometimes,” she says finally. “But everyone’s selfish sometimes.”
“Carly seems to think it’s an i
ntrinsic part of my personality.”
“Carly was just thrown into a crazy new situation that she wasn’t prepared for and is lashing out,” Avah says.
I grin a little. “You know just what to say.”
She rolls her eyes. “Look, are you being selfish with her? Yes, a little bit. But she chose to sign on for this. Now, you’re both involved, and if you can’t make it happen… well, you’re both going to jail.”
I nod once. “Right.”
“So, no time for fucking around.”
“No, no fucking around.”
“Good. And seriously, don’t make me give you another pep talk, Davis. It’s not like you.”
I laugh and shrug. “I guess she really is getting to me.”
Avah rolls her eyes and gets back to work. I stare at my computer screen and all the emails I should probably respond to, but instead I just think about Carly.
About her body, her hips. Her lips, her taste, her pussy, her voice as she came…
Avah is right. I have to get it together for both our sakes. I can’t afford to be weak right now.
But I also can’t help myself. I want Carly, pretty fucking badly. I need to figure out how to deal with her and with myself before this all gets fucked up.
Carly shows up, just like I knew she would. She’s wearing a tight pair of jeans and an old sweatshirt. Her hair is piled on top of her head, but at least she’s wearing makeup.
“You summoned me, husband?” she says, coming into my office. Her tone has a hint of anger to it.
Avah stands up. “Actually, that was me.”
Carly hesitates and I grin at her. “It’s not always my fault,” I say.
She shrugs at me and looks to Avah. “What’s up?”
“Well, you heard about the press release. We want to do some more media stuff, but we need more pictures.”
“Ah,” Carly says.
“Feel up for it?”
Carly glances at me. “Sure. Is he going to be involved?”
“Not for all of it,” I tell her. “Lucky girl.”
She ignores me.
“He’ll join you later on,” Avah says.
“Okay then. Let’s get it over with.”
“Great. Come on, this way.” Avah moves past her and the two girls leave my office. Carly doesn’t even look back in my direction.