The Hard Sell

by Wright,Lulu

  “True. But, to be honest, proper treatment of employees didn’t stop you from spanking me the first time, so …” I lean back with a twinkle in my eye.

  “Mm, true. I suppose you’re the exception to the rule, Miss Brook.” He catches my hand in his, and raises it slowly to his lips, like an old-school gentleman, all the while keeping his eyes locked on mine. “You’re certainly exceptional tonight …”

  I let my eyes graze over his body again, lingering on the shirt stretched across his strong chest. Specifically, on the buttons I want to tear off of it. “I gotta admit, you look almost as good as I do right now.” I grin.

  He kisses my fingertips, then spreads my hand and kisses my palm.

  “It seems my date has been stolen,” a woman’s voice interrupts us, loud and sharp.

  I jump backwards—oh great, here we go again, another Crystal—but Jack only squeezes my hand tighter and turns with a smile toward a pretty brunette woman with a sparkle in her eye. I relax almost at once.

  She looks exactly like her mother.

  “Lily, this is my sister, Madeline. Maddie, this is Lily.”

  Maddie casts a sly smile up at Jack. “Wine glasses?” she says.

  “Wine glasses.” He nods.

  No idea what that’s about. But the exchange reminds me. My teeth worry at my lower lip suddenly. What with the promotion, I’d forgotten all about my other problem. Brenda with a capital B. Crap.

  “Listen, we—” I start to say, but Madeline interrupts me before I can get another word out.

  “Don’t worry. Jack’s already given me the lecture. You know, he thinks I’m just this insatiable gossip.” She elbows her brother in the side. “But I do know how to keep my mouth shut when I need to. Your guys’ secret is safe with me.” She mimes locking her lips with a key and then tossing it away.

  “Thanks.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “I mean, I did just get promoted, so as soon as I finish out my shift at Hamilton’s, it won’t matter, since I’ll be moving to another store, and my boss won’t care …”

  “No, I totally get it. Career motivated lady!” Madeline reaches across to pat my shoulder with a wink. “I like her, Jack. She’s got her priorities straight.” Suddenly, a thought seems to strike her, and Maddie turns to glance over her shoulder at the main room. “One thought, though. You might not want to stick around here too long. If the cameras catch you both …”

  “Crap,” I reply, suddenly remembering, too. My date! “I should find Jeffrey, make sure he doesn’t need me.”

  Jack’s face drops into confusion. “Jeffrey? I thought you came with Ricky.”

  “Nah, he’s here with Stripper Steve.” My grin widens at Jack’s confusion. “Jeffrey is my hot high-society date for the night. Very sexy in his tux, I gotta say.”

  Jack leans in to pinch my side. “As sexy as I am?”

  “Mmm …” I tilt my head side-to-side, pretending to debate. He gets ready to pinch me again, and I dodge the attack, catching him in another embrace instead, and leaning in to bite his neck. “Not even close,” I whisper in his ear. Then I slide out of his arms, not without a huge amount of reluctance. “Don’t worry. I’m just his beard for the night. But, if I act my part well, I do win a trip to the Hamptons, so …”

  Jack smirks. “Go beard it up then, my dear. Only one request.” His eyes sparkle. Sensing the direction things are heading, Maddie politely backs off and slinks away toward the nearest champagne fountain.

  Jack traces his hand down my cheek to cup my chin in his palm, and tilt my head close to his, until our lips hover inches apart. “Tonight, I get to peel that dress off of you.”

  A shiver races down my spine, all the way to the tips of my perfectly pedicured toes. “Deal.” I wink, and lean up like I’m about to kiss him. But at the last second, I skip to the side, dodge past him, and saunter across the room, on the look-out for Jeffrey. I don’t need to turn around to know that he’s watching my every move with hungry eyes.

  At last, the world is back on its rightful course.

  26

  Jack

  Half of me fears this is a trick. A joke. Revenge, for everything I’ve put her through.

  I wouldn’t blame her.

  But then, at last, hours after the Gala ended and I waved goodbye to Dad, hugged Mom and thanked her, and drove Madeline my little drunk home, the phone in my kitchen finally rings. “Doug?” I say as I pick it up. It’s the doorman phone, and it can only mean one thing.

  I have a visitor.

  “A Miss Brook here to see you, sir,” Doug says. From the smirk in his voice, I can tell he knows exactly what Lily is doing here at 1am. I wonder if he’s guessed what was in those boxes I bought for the trunk, too.

  Frankly, I don’t care.

  “Send her up, please.”

  I’ve already got my tie loosened, but now I lose the suit coat as well. I know how Lily gets about extra fabric in the way. She’s very impatient, my little minx. She likes her presents practically half unwrapped already.

  I have to admit, when the elevator doors buzz open, I’m almost surprised that she hasn’t changed into yoga pants again already. But she kept her promise. I get to peel that sexy, golden gown off of her myself.

  She steps out of the elevator, steady in her sky-high heels, and I cross the living room to meet her before she’s even a few steps into the room. Our lips crash together, both of us too desperate to wait another minute. My hands trace her sides, her curves, her sexy, handful-sized breasts and her smooth, curved back. I find the zipper on the dress and tug at it, as her teeth catch my lower lip and bite down, just hard enough to let me know she means business.

  I pause between kisses to stare at her for a second. The reality of the whole situation washes over me. She’s really here. Right in my living room. Mine for the taking.

  The same way that I’m hers. I have been, really, from the moment she set foot inside my store. I was always doomed to fall for Lily Brook.

  I can’t say I’m complaining about it, either.

  “I thought you said you wanted to peel this off me, not stare at it longer.” She puts a hand on her hip, cocky as ever.

  “Oh, I’m not looking at the dress,” I promise her. I lean in to kiss her neck, all the way up to her slim jawline. I catch her ear in my teeth and toy with the earring she’s wearing, my tongue flicking at her smooth, soft skin.

  She giggles, then twists in my arms to get her hands between us. Before I know what’s happening, she tugs hard at my shirt. Buttons fly everywhere, scattering across the floor, as she rips my dress shirt wide open.

  “That,” she says, eyes fixating on mine, “Is for the yoga pants.”

  I can’t help but grin, even as I shrug out of the now-de-buttoned shirt and let it fall to the floor. I notice she left the tie on. “Can’t argue with that,” I say, as I finish unzipping her gown, and brush it off her arms, one shoulder at a time, so it falls down to her hips. “Fair is fair.”

  I continue the slow unwrapping, easing her bra off, while she practically rips at my clothes, pulling down my pants so hard she takes my Flash Fit boxers with them. By the time we’re both standing naked in a puddle of our clothing, in the middle of my living room, I’m rock hard, my cock pulsing with need.

  Still, I delay. Torturing both myself and her, I’m sure, from the way she squirms. I trace my hands over her now-familiar curves once more. Taking my time, savoring the way her soft skin gives way to my rough, strong hands. I walk her backwards toward the couch, one step at a time, our legs moving together. She pulls me close to her, trapping my cock against her stomach, and she rubs her hips in a slow circle to grind against me. I lift her around the waist, kiss her sexy little red mouth. Her lipstick must be all over my face, and I don’t give a damn. I want her red all over me. I slip my tongue between her lips, and hers tangles with mine, all soft strokes and longing moans.

  We trip backwards onto the couch, land in an explosion of throw pillows. I slide my hands under her ass and grip
her tight, lifting her butt off the couch. She spreads her legs wide, wraps them around my waist, and I hold my cock in one hand as I slide on a condom from the side table quickly. Then I toy with her entrance, using my cock to press at her clit and rub gently, in circles, slowly increasing the pressure as she gasps and jumps beneath me.

  “I want to make you scream, Miss Brook,” I tell her, my voice low and possessive.

  Her face flushes, and her eyes flash with desire. “Challenge accepted, Mr. Hamilton.”

  Without warning, I plunge into her, and savor the rush of white-hot pleasure in my veins as her slick, wet, tight little pussy contracts around my cock. She is perfection. She is sex, she is everything I’ve ever needed and didn’t know existed.

  She wraps those legs so tight around me that her heels dig into my ass, and her hands grip my chest, nails-first. I savor the bite of her nails on my skin as I draw out of her slowly, a centimeter at a time, letting her feel every inch of me before I thrust back into her again. Her hips buck, and she moans my name.

  “Fuck me, Jack.”

  “Whatever you desire, Miss Brook.” I lean down over her, our chests pressed together, the hard nubs of her nipples digging into my chest as I run both hands through her long hair. I cup her face in my hands and gaze down at her, enjoying the expression of delight on her face as I thrust again and again. I love the little O her mouth makes, the way her eyes fall half-closed and her lips tremble with every breath. “Lily,” I moan as I rock my hips faster, and hers tilt up to meet mine, giving as good as she gets with every thrust.

  “Fuck, Lily, you’re amazing.”

  “Don’t stop, Jack.” Her nails bite into my chest.

  “Never.” I tug her hair, enough to arch her neck, and I lean in to kiss the sweet spot right where her neck meets her shoulder. I keep thrusting, faster, harder, the hard slap of our hips connecting turning me on just as much as the feeling of her pussy working around my cock, squeezing me tight, gripping me hard.

  I reach down, my hand brushing her clit, but she’s so turned on she’s already there, her pussy contracting hard as her back arches and she comes. I circle my finger around her clit, skimming the edges, keeping her orgasm going even as I speed up my thrusts. It doesn’t take long, watching her writhe in pleasure, before I lose control too.

  I groan through gritted teeth as I come inside her, and she tightens around me on purpose, milking every drop from me. I thumb her clit again, and I’m rewarded with a shiver as she gasps and arches her back, twisting on the couch, another orgasm overtaking her, as mine finishes.

  I collapse across her chest, still inside her, my arms wrapped around her. She leans up to kiss my neck, my cheek, my lips, as both of us slowly recover our breath.

  When I pull back to meet her eyes, they’re sparkling again, a combination of affection and mischief. One of the many things I’ve come to adore about Lily. Her mischievous side, and her affectionate one. “What’s that look for?” I ask, leaning in to steal another kiss.

  She smirks and rolls off the couch. “Let’s go,” she says.

  “Go where?” I push myself up and follow her, though I already have an idea what she’s thinking. She’s headed straight toward the bedroom.

  “I need something from the trunk,” she calls over her shoulder, and just like that, the blood starts to rush south again.

  She’s insatiable, my Lily.

  Good thing I can’t possibly get enough of her.

  Epilogue

  Lily

  Center City

  18 months later

  Stepping back, I eyeball the wall. Cool beans. It won’t need a third coat of paint. I hold up Maddie’s latest vampire clown masterpiece to check the color. The light blue shade of the wall contrasts just enough with the purple hues on the canvas. Jack and I decided this hallway wall in our new place will be reserved for Maddie’s paintings alone. It’s a long wall, so it might take her years to fill it with the weird clowns I’ve grown to love. But personally, I can’t wait to see her expression when we show Maddie her new gallery.

  Oh. No.

  I sniff the air. Something is burning.

  The pot roast.

  I dart toward the kitchen fast as I can and yank the roasting pan out of the oven. Too late. The smoke detector has already started to beep frantically. I jump on the nearest chair and wave at the smoke with a potholder. While I do, I study the meat on the counter sadly. It’s so burnt that it looks more like a black lava rock than actual food. It’s probably stuck to the pan, too. Great. So not only did I ruin dinner, but the cookware to make it, too.

  I knew I was going to lose this challenge.

  Maybe I could order something quickly … I check the clock. Hmm. Less than 20 minutes until Jack should be home. If I call right now …

  Keys jingle in the lock. Shit. Too late.

  I leap off the stool and pray the smoke detector will remain silent, so at least maybe he won’t know how badly I screwed up. Argh. This was supposed to be an easy night! A freebie practically. Veggies, meat, done.

  Instead, I managed to nearly start a three-alarm fire.

  “Whoa.” Jack coughs dramatically as he walks through the door. “Is the fire department coming? Again?”

  I slap him with the potholder. “Don’t start. It’s better than last time, okay?”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” His eyes sweep the counter top, and land directly on the pot roast. Or, rather, the roasted pot. “Lily. You know what this means.”

  “This is not a fair contest.” I cross my arms. “We should have an underwear folding competition instead. Or what about a contest to see who can eat the food we make the fastest?” I bat my eyes.

  He raises an eyebrow. “You want to eat that?”

  Ugh. Fair point. I sigh and roll my eyes. “Fine. Your turn to pick, then.”

  His eyes twinkle. “Q,” he says. I roll my eyes. “Not the way it works either. You’ve got to pick out of the bag, not just name your favorite letter.”

  “But I love Q.”

  “We’re also all out of edible undies, so it’s going to be hard to swing that one,” I remind him.

  “Remind me to order more.” He sighs, but turns toward the bedroom. Despite my protests, I’m happy to jog after him, abandoning my failed attempt at dinner on the countertop. This is our new Monday night thing: cooking competition. Winner gets to pick a tile for a prize from the Fantasy Chest.

  I’ve got to admit, win or lose, it beats starting out the week any other way. Definitely makes it easier to suffer through long shifts on Mondays when I’m deployed somewhere sucky. I love the new regional gig overall, but some of the stores simply cannot compare to the now orderly-as-heck Hamilton’s.

  Jack’s enjoying his new position too, though it’s not without its stress either. So this game works out great for both of us, really, even though we do love to complain when the other one wins.

  Jack takes his time selecting a Scrabble tile, his eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. “Q,” he says before the tile is even out of the bag, and I roll my eyes and snatch the tile from his hand.

  “Cheater,” I scold him.

  “I would never!” he gasps, acting all offended, even though he totally cheats every time we play slap-the-pile too.

  I turn the tile over. “M, actually,” I tell him.

  “Hmm …” His lips curl into a grin. “I can work with M, too.”

  I reach into the chest. We’ve unwrapped everything by now, and I know my way through these treasures by heart. “Close your eyes,” I command, as I pull out the large box with the letter M across the front.

  He obeys, a wide grin on his face, and I open the box quick as I can and unfold the Maid’s costume inside. It doesn’t take me long to change into it—I leave my underwear and bra off. I know how my man likes it.

  When he opens his eyes again, it’s totally worth the effort to see his lips part and his eyes spark with lust, the way they always do. Doesn’t matter how many times he’s see
n me in this getup, he always appreciates the view.

  But he snaps into character fast, too. Jack is very good at playing the demanding rich man. “Miss Brook.” He stands and crosses his arms over his chest. “I thought I told you to clean the kitchen this week.”

  “Did you, Mr. Hamilton, sir?” I bat my lashes as I stand, slowly, and flounce down the hallway toward the kitchen, making sure to swing my ass hard, so the skirt flips up to reveal my bare ass beneath. “I can’t say I recall this conversation …”

  “You are lazy, Miss Brook. You haven’t even cleaned the floor yet. I want you on your hands and knees working extra hard to please me right now.”

  I catch his eye over my shoulder and grin. “Whatever you say, Mr. Hamilton.”