by B. B. Hamel
She’s blushing while she does a little spin. She looks absolutely fucking perfect. The dress is black and sleek, hugging her breasts and hips, ending a few inches above the knee. The front is cut low enough to give a hint of her breasts, but doesn’t show too much.
When she finishes turning, she cocks her head, smiling and embarrassed. “What do you think?”
“I think you look perfect,” I say, stepping toward her.
“What else is in these boxes?” she asks quickly, stepping away.
I grin but don’t pursue her. If she wants to play dress up, I sure as fuck won’t stop her. “How about this one next?” I ask, picking up another box.
And so I watch as she tries on three more dresses. One is formal and two are casual, and she looks fucking amazing in each of them. Each time I want to rip the fabric from her body and take her right there, but she’s dancing away from me, pushing the tension forward, heightening the experience. I can’t tell if she’s doing it on purpose, but I suspect she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.
And I like it, I really like it. I love that she’s playing this game, pushing back against me, and not just giving in to what I want. It makes the chase so much better, and when I finally have her, everything will be that much more intense.
We go through a few more bags. There are shoes, more gloves, scarves, and hats, and a more formal jacket. There’s a necklace and matching earrings, which she tries on with a gleeful laugh, and mentally I make a note to tell Judy how well she did.
Finally, I pick up a red box with a pink bow on it. The box isn’t large enough to hold a dress, but it’s not small and it’s beautifully wrapped.
“Try this one,” I say.
“What is it?” she asks, taking it from me.
“I’m not sure.”
She unties the bow and gingerly pulls open the box. She looks inside and turns beet red, biting her lip. I look into the box and a big grin breaks across my face.
Inside is a lingerie set, black and lacy. There are stockings, straps connecting to the black panties, and a sexy black bra. I raise an eyebrow at her.
“Well?” I ask. “Try it on.”
She pauses. “I don’t know.”
“Go ahead,” I say softly. “Try it on for me.”
I don’t know if she’s as swept up in the game as I am or what, but she doesn’t argue anymore. She carries the box back to the kitchen and slips out of the dress she’s wearing. When she’s in her bra and panties, she looks at me, biting her lip, but I don’t look away.
She puts on the panties and stockings first, which I can’t see. I watch as she bends over, pulling the stockings up, and slides the panties on. Finally, she straps the stockings to the panties. When she’s done, she glances at me before turning her back and removing her bra.
I watch the beautiful, graceful lines of her back as she half turns, one arm covering her full breasts, and picks up the bra. She turns back and slides it over her body, putting it on. When she’s finished, she steps out from behind the island and looks at me, blushing madly.
“What do you think?” she asks.
My heart is beating so hard in my chest that I can barely hear her. I walk toward her and this time she doesn’t move away. I stop inches away from her and slide my fingers up her thighs, stopping to pull at the straps.
“Perfect,” I say.
“You like it?”
“You look fucking perfect.” I slide my fingers up her body and she shivers as I gently graze her breasts. I stop, one hand tangled in her hair, the other dropping back to her waist.
She gasps as I tip her head back and kiss her neck. She groans slightly as I kiss her breasts. My other hand moves around to cup her ass. She stands up on her tippy toes, her whole body taut and tense, as I move slowly back up toward her lips.
When I kiss her, I can feel her whole body tense and shiver. It’s like a wave of pleasure comes through her. I’m rock hard and barely able to contain myself, but there’s only one thing I want in this moment.
I press her back up against the island, kissing her furiously. The hand that was on her ass moves up her body, cups her breasts, before sliding back down the front of her.
She gasps slightly as my hand slides down the front of her panties. She’s smooth and perfect as I find her little pussy. I smile when I feel her soaking wet spot and gently begin to work her clit in slow circles.
“Shit,” she gasps when I move away from her lips to kiss her neck. “Carson. Was this your plan the whole time?”
“Of course,” I whisper. “I’ve been thinking about you wearing this lingerie since the moment we met.”
She smiles. “I bet you have.”
“But you don’t know what I want.”
“I don’t?”
“No. What have I been saying since the start?”
“You want to spoil me,” she whispers.
“That’s right. I want to spoil you.” My fingers slide inside of her and she gasps. She’s tight and wet, soaking and ready, but I don’t want to fuck her. Not right now, not yet at least. “What do you want?” I ask her.
“I don’t know,” she moans, my fingers sliding in and out of her tight pussy.
“Then I’ll show you.” I slide my fingers out then grab her hips with both hands and lift her up onto the kitchen island. She stares at me, legs spread wide.
Kylie
I stare at him, my ass on the marble countertop, as he spreads my legs wider. He slowly unfastens the stockings from my panties then kisses down my inner thigh.
Excitement rages through me. I’m not sure this is the right thing to do, but I can’t help myself. I want him so badly I can barely think. He’s so sure of himself, so confident and strong, plus he’s so incredibly handsome. I want him to take care of me, want him to do whatever he wants to me. I’ve never had man touch me the way he does, with such skill and intensity. My skin feels like it’s on fire as he takes my panties in both hands and slides them off my body.
He bites his lip and teases my pussy with his fingers. “You’re fucking perfect,” he says. “Look at this tight little cunt. And dripping wet, too. Fuck, Kylie, I don’t think you know what you do to me.”
“I’m the one on the counter,” I moan back.
“That’s right. You’re not moving an inch. You’re all mine.” He presses his mouth between my legs then and I gasp as his tongue begins to lap at my swollen clit.
Desire rolls through me in waves. I can hardly think as his tongue and teeth lap and nibble at my clit. He works me skillfully, unlike anyone before him. I didn’t know a man could do that with his tongue and mouth, sucking on my clit like that, but he clearly knows what he’s doing.
It drives me wild. I grip the edge of the counter as he works his magic, tongue and lips on my clit, strong hands on my thighs. I’ve never experienced something like this before, never had a guy go down on me like this. Carson licks and sucks me like he’s starving, like he loves the way I taste and can’t get enough. That only makes me so much more excited.
He moves one hand away from my thighs then presses two fingers deep into my pussy. I moan, deep and low, as he continues to suck my clit, fingers sliding in and out of me, fucking me. I release the edge of the counter and grab his hair, pressing him tighter, rolling my hips.
He goes with me, licking and sucking, fucking with his fingers, making my body tense and work. I’ve never been pushed like this, never been brought so close to coming with a man’s tongue and fingers alone before. It’s an amazing feeling, incredible, and it builds deep in my core.
I don’t know if I can hold back. “Carson,” I moan. “I’m close. Oh god, I’m going to come. Please, you don’t have to.”
“I want to taste you,” he grunts. “Come in my fucking mouth, Kylie.”
I gasp, tossing my head back, as he sucks and licks and fucks me with renewed intensity. I love his dirty mouth, can’t believe that he actually loves making me feel this way, and I lose myself to the moment, lose myself completely.
I’ve never felt so naked and so free yet so controlled before. It’s a contradiction of feeling and intensity, but it’s all true inside of me, as the pleasure overloads and washes over me.
I come and he doesn’t let up. He keeps working my pussy as my muscles tense and the orgasm explodes through my body and my mind, overwhelming me with pleasure.
He never lets up, not until it slowly subsides. And then he licks me up, lapping up every drop, before stepping back, his face flushed, admiring me.
I prop myself up on my elbows, breathing deep. He helps me slide down from the counter and wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest.
I breathe his smell in deep and let out a contented sigh. I never pictured this happening, at least not at first. I was too busy worrying about surviving in this place to think about what he could make me feel.
But now that it happened, I already know that I need more. I can’t stay here and not let him touch me, not when he can make me feel that. I know I can’t hold back, not anymore.
“That’s what you wanted,” he whispers in my ear. “Maybe you didn’t know it. But you do now.”
I nod against his chest. “You’re right.”
“My two favorite words.” He grins and looks at me then kisses me softly.
I pull myself closer to him and relax, enjoying the glow of the moment. Eventually, I get dressed and he helps me put my presents away in my closet. The rest of the night is spent eating a good meal and talking about our lives.
But I can’t stop thinking about the way he held me. I felt so safe and secure in his arms, like the world outside his embrace doesn’t exist. It was a strange and good and terrifying feeling all at once. I don’t know if it means that I’d be willing to forget the world for him, but I’m not going to question it too much, at least not now.
I’ll worry about that when the time comes.
Carson
Kylie goes to bed relatively early that night which isn’t a bad thing. The next morning, I have to get up and go to work. I write her a little note letting her know where things are, in case she needs anything, and then I head out.
I can’t stop thinking about her all day. I’m distracted at work, which is unusual for me, but I’m enjoying it. As far as I’m concerned, the drama with my brother and my father doesn’t exist, and the only thing that matters is the beautiful woman back at my house.
Beautiful younger woman. I can’t let myself forget that. It doesn’t really matter but it does in a lot of ways. As much as I hate to admit it, her age does present something of a problem. I’m trying not to think about it, because for the first time in my life I feel happy and content in a relationship, but I can’t help but wonder.
It’s inevitable that my father will find out about this. Most likely he’ll learn of it from my brother, and Elliot is going to present me in the worst light possible. I should get out ahead of this and try to tell my own story, make my own narrative the important one, but I don’t know if it’s time for that.
I don’t know where I’m going with this thing. I want to be her daddy, buy her things, spoil her, and take care of her, but I don’t know how longterm this is going to be. Then again, I don’t know how much longer my father even has, so it might not matter. But if I introduce her, and then back out before my father passes, that could look bad.
I don’t know why I care so much about this fucking CEO job to begin with. I should just take what I want and forget about the rest, which is what I’m doing, more or less. But I want the CEO position just like I want Kylie, and so I have to figure out a way to get both of them. I won’t accept that they’re mutually exclusive.
Maybe a normal man can’t have both, but I’m not a normal man. I know how to get what I want. I’ve been finding ways to get what I need for as long as I can remember. Although I was born rich, I’ve still worked hard and earned everything I have. I don’t want to be the kind of weak rich kid that just gets handed everything in his life.
Which is why I’ll figure this out. I want her, and I’m going to have her. I just need to figure out how to beat my brother at this fucking game.
Work passes quickly. Normally, I work until eight or nine at night, but today I clock out promptly at five.
I don’t want to leave Kylie alone for too long. Albert meets me in the parking garage and he drives me back toward my house. When we’re halfway there, I call the phone I left out for Kylie.
“Hello?” She answers on the second ring.
“I wasn’t sure you saw the phone.”
“I didn’t until it started ringing.” She laughs softly.
“I want you to do something for me,” I say.
“Of course. Anything.”
“Go pick out one of your new outfits. We’re going out tonight.”
“Where to?”
“Nothing special or fancy. Just a local place I like. I’ll be home in ten minutes.”
“I can be ready by then.”
“Perfect,” I say, laughing. “But I want to get changed first. So take your time.”
“See you soon,” she says, and hangs up the phone.
I smile and shake my head, slipping the phone back into my jacket pocket.
I don’t know the last time I felt like this. I actually want to see her and take her out with me. I know I probably shouldn’t take her out in public, since being seen with me will inevitably get back to my father, but I don’t care. I want to be seen with her. I want to show her off a little bit. She’s funny, and beautiful, and so full of vitality, and most importantly she makes me feel good.
That’s what’s important. She makes me feel good. Fuck all the rest.
Albert drops me off and I instruct him to wait out front. He gets comfortable as I head inside. “Kylie?” I call out, walking toward the bedrooms.
“In here!”
I walk up to her room and push the door open. She’s standing in the middle of the room, a dress half on her body. I pause and stare at her, a small smile on my face, and she blushes slightly.
“How was work?” she asks, and finishes pulling her dress on.
“Boring,” I say. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
She walks across the room and kisses me lightly on the mouth. “Good. I like that.”
“I thought you would.” I grab her waist and pull her against me, kissing her mouth harder.
She smiles. “Come on, let me finish getting dressed.”
“Fine.” I kiss her again then head back into my room. I change out of my suit and into a pair of expensive jeans I’ve been wearing and fading over the years, plus a Henley undershirt and a flannel over-shirt. I roll up my jeans, put on a pair of thick socks, and finally slip on my trusty Iron Ranger boots. When I’m done, I look at myself in the mirror.
When I’m at work, I’m a suit. It’s part of the world I live in. The suit stands for power, and I wear expensive ones to show that I can afford them. It’s a status thing, basically, although I do look damn good in them.
But when I think of myself, my actual self, I’m always wearing this outfit. Work clothes, basically, the sort of stuff I wear around the house when I’m doing projects. I love to work with my hands, and would probably have been a carpenter in another life if I hadn’t been born into what I do now. I do woodworking projects all the time anyway, and fill my free time fixing things.
I walk back out into the kitchen and pour myself a drink. By the time I’m finished, Kylie joins me, standing in the kitchen entrance.
“What do you think?” she asks, and gives me a little spin.
I smile huge at her. “Perfect,” I say. She’s wearing a short dress with heavy tights on underneath and leather boots.
“Think I’ll be too cold?”
I shake my head. “We won’t be outside long.”
“Good.” She walks over to me and leans against the refrigerator. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“A place I like,” I say.
“You loo
k different out of a suit.”
I grin at her and sip my drink. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No, not at all. You just... look like an Alaskan.”
“I am an Alaskan.”
“I know, but my stereotypical view of one. You know, manly man lumberjack.”
“I’m not manly in my suit? I’m almost insulted.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“You wound me deeply, Kylie.”
“Oh get over it, you big baby.”
I laugh and grab her. She tries to get away, laughing, but I pin her up against the refrigerator door and kiss her.
She kisses me back like that for a second before finally breaking off. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s go. I’m tired of being cooped up in here all day.”
“Okay then.” I let her go. “But I was going to do unspeakable things to your body just then.”
“I’m sure.” She gives me a look and then laughs. I grin, knock back my drink, and then we head out front. Albert has the car running, the hot air on full blast, as we climb into the back.
She’s flirtatious and happy as we head into town. The roads are clear and it hasn’t snowed again, which is a small mercy. Juneau is usually covered in snow at this point, but it’s not too bad right now, fortunately. Albert still drives carefully, like he always does, but we’re parking outside of The Walker only a half hour later.
“What is this place?” Kylie asks as we climb out of the car.
“It’s an old fisherman bar,” I say. “Or at least it used to be. My father bought it years ago. It’s something of a family place now.”
“Family place?” she asks.
“I mean, my family.” I laugh a little. “I know, it’s absurd. But it’s one of my favorite places.”
“I’m excited to see it,” she says.
The outside of The Walker is more or less unchanged from the way it was when my father bought it. The sign is handpainted and peeling slightly, despite having been touched up a few years ago. My father could renovate, but he likes that The Walker retains its “rustic charms” as he says.