by Sybil Bartel
“Thanks, Mandy. Let me grab your check.”
“Sure, take your time. I have a few things to wrap up. I’ll be in the staging area.”
She smiled almost nervously and I veered off toward the back of the apartment. My head spinning, I rushed to one of the back rooms Jesse had put a lock on for me. I slipped my key from my bra and used it to get inside.
I didn’t want to think about Jesse right now. And I especially didn’t want to think about his kiss in comparison to… shit. I didn’t even know Mr. Perfect Kisser’s name. It was official. I was a slut.
I grabbed the check, locked the door behind me and found the caterer to pay her. As I made my way back, laughter, rich and deep, rang out across the space and my skin tingled.
“No way, dude!” Franklin’s face creased with a wide smile, his eyes actually focused, and he looked almost normal as he stood next to Mr. Perfect Kisser in a circle of five women.
“Would I lie about something like that?” Mr. Perfect Kisser tipped his drink toward Franklin.
“Totally not, dude.” He nodded enthusiastically. “No way.”
A tall blonde pressed up against Mr. Perfect Kisser’s arm. “Tell us another story.” Her pouty lips were inches from his neck.
Mrs. Pendleton snapped her fingers at the blonde. “Let’s go.”
The blonde rolled her eyes but she and the rest of the girls trailed after my boss like ducklings.
Anxiety prickled up my spine and I glanced around. I’d been so focused on Mr. Perfect Kisser and the girl pressing up on him that I hadn’t immediately realized the crowd had diminished, like seriously diminished.
Mrs. Pendleton waltzed past me and sneered. “In case you didn’t already figure it out, you’re fired.”
The elevator doors shut on her and her entourage.
Cold dread hit my stomach as I scrambled for my phone. My hands shaking, I opened the app.
Every single bid was gone.
The artist that smelled like weed and two-day-old sex exhaled. “Dude. The charity chick doesn’t look so good.”
I stared at Olivia as she went stock-still. Cougar and her entourage waltzed to the elevator and with one last bitch face directed at Olivia, the doors closed.
Olivia whipped her phone out of her bra and her fingers flew across the screen. Then her arms dropped to her sides and her phone slipped from her hands.
“Duuuude.” The freak artist set his drink on the bar. “I know that face. Shit’s about to get heavy.”
Olivia was on the move before the last word left his mouth. Her phone forgotten on the floor, she strode to the shit painting with the crates of water under it and plucked it off the wall.
She was opening the balcony slider before the artist moved.
“Whoa, dude, whoa!”
Olivia hurled the painting over the railing.
“Cecile!”
Without breaking stride, Olivia was behind the bar shoving the bartender out of the way. “You can go, you’re not getting paid overtime.” She hefted the bottle of whiskey and spared the dumbstruck idiot one glance. “Now.”
He grabbed his tips and both he and the artist made a break for the elevator, except the bartender wasn’t muttering to himself as he pulled at his hair. The last few remaining people followed them and a second later, the packed elevator left and we were alone.
I leaned on the bar as Olivia threw back straight from the bottle. “You want to talk about it?”
She ignored me and took another huge swig.
“I’m all for getting your buzz on, sweetness, but I’m not a fan of babysitting. You got a plan for all that alcohol?”
She sucked air in through her teeth. “Fuck you.”
“Just say when.” I smiled but she didn’t notice.
She drank again.
I should’ve left her to it, but that fucking kiss was imprinted on my brain and my dick wanted to find out what all the hype was about. “You threw my favorite painting out.”
No reaction.
“I kinda liked the dirty little Cecile, even if she was a sadist.”
Olivia stared at me as she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a massive swig.
A hammered chick wasn’t a fun chick. “Not gonna lie.” I snatched the bottle from her grasp. “I don’t buy into the whole fem domme, male sub role play.”
If looks could kill, her gaze slayed me twice then spit fire on the carnage.
I shrugged. “But hey, if it’ll get you to talk to me, I’m game,” I lied. I didn’t do that shit. Ever.
“Give. Me. That bottle.”
Christ she was sexy when she was pissed. “Not what I was aiming for when I wanted you to talk.” Taking the bottle with me, I went to retrieve her phone, but I’d neglected to lock down the other twenty bottles at the bar. When I turned back toward her, she had the vodka.
She pulled the stopper out and threw it across the bar before taking a long swill. The coughing fit that followed spurred me into action.
“Hey, hey, hey, arms up.” I grabbed the bottle and set it down then encircled her wrists and raised her arms above her head. “Breathe, baby, in through your nose.”
She tried to wrench free. “I’m not—” She coughed. “—your baby.”
Jesus, she was small. “We can remedy that later, but right now, take a breath.”
She coughed once more. “You. You ruined it.”
Arms above her head, her dark hair falling out of its twist, blue eyes bright with tears, she was stunning—totally fucking stunning. And pissed as hell at me for some reason. “Check it, sweetness. I didn’t throw the profits off the balcony.”
She wrenched free and picked up the vodka.
Momentarily taken off guard, her swing didn’t register until it was too late to do anything except duck. The bottle flew past my head and slammed into the wall behind me. Shattering glass exploded through the silence and echoed like a motherfucker. “Hey!” I snapped.
Another bottle flew in my direction.
Fuck this.
I grabbed her as she reached for a third bottle. My arms went around her from behind, and I lifted her off her feet, easily overpowering her. “Calm down,” I demanded.
“No!” She kicked me in the shin.
Fuck.
My arm hit the back of her knees and I brought her legs up as I picked her up. In one swift movement, I tossed her ass on the bar, stepped between her legs and grabbed her wrists. “Kick me again,” I warned, “and you’ll regret it.”
“Let me go!” She arched her back violently then tried to head butt me.
I pushed her down on the bar, covered her chest with mine and got in her face. “Calm down.”
“You fucking asshole!”
I kissed her.
She gasped and my tongue sank into her angry, hot mouth.
I stroked through her fire once, twice….
Her tongue stroked me back.
I released her wrists and small hands gripped my hair with the force of a tornado. Strong legs wrapped around my hips, her thighs anchored to my waist, and she threw herself into the kiss. Teeth gnashing, hips thrusting, back arching, a hurricane couldn’t touch her.
I fucking growled as I grasped the back of her knee and shoved her leg wide. Rotating my hips, I dry humped the shit out of her as I ground my dick between her legs. Grasping her jaw, I spoke against her mouth. “Tell me to fuck you.”
Her arms tightened around my neck and she bit at my bottom lip. “Fuck me,” she panted.
I shoved my tongue into her mouth as I yanked her dress up. I broke the kiss only long enough to pull the material over her head and drag her red thong down her sexy legs. Taking in the sight of her bare pussy, already glistening with desire, I thought I was in fucking heaven until I saw her tits. Lush and so goddamn real, I groaned.
“Sweet Jesus.” I pulled her bra down just enough to expose what I wanted then I drew her hard nipple between my teeth.
“Ahhh.” Her back arched and her eyes fluttere
d shut.
I’d fucked a lot of women, but in that moment, not a single one of them stood out. I didn’t get attached, ever. But this woman? All fire and attitude, with a sexy red lace bra over that perfect fucking rack? Goddamn. She was already burned into my memory as if she’d branded me. “You’re fucking gorgeous, sweetness.” I’d been calling her sweetness to make fun of her attitude but the joke was on me. There was nothing about her sexy little body that wasn’t sweet as sin.
She struggled with my belt. “Pants… off.”
I grabbed a condom out of my pocket. I didn’t think about her not being a client or about the fact that she’d be the first woman I’d fucked in three years who hadn’t paid me. I didn’t think about shit except getting inside of her.
In a move so practiced, I could write a book about it, I unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out. Stroking myself with one hand, I put the corner of the foil between my teeth and ripped open the Magnum. Sheathed in seconds, I grabbed the backs of her knees and brought her thighs around my waist. Then I did what I’d wanted to do since I first saw her. I undid the clip in her hair. Waves of rich brown fell over her pale shoulders and the scent of jasmine and woman hit me square in the chest. Inhaling, I reached between her legs.
Jesus.
My fingers sank into tight, wet heat and I groaned. Stroking through her folds, I rubbed my thumb over her clit and she jerked against my touch.
She was so fucking hot, lies and bullshit compliments didn’t roll off my tongue. I wasn’t calculating every move for effect. I didn’t choreograph every touch. I didn’t drag her to the brink only to pull back and ask for more money. I wasn’t even thinking about someone hotter so I could stay hard.
I was gripping the shaft of my cock and dragging the head through her desire, wondering how fucking tight she would feel around me. “You ready for me, sweetness?”
She spread her legs wider. “Stop talking.”
I thrust deep.
Her back bowed, her mouth opened on a silent gasp and she gripped two handfuls of my tailored suit as my cock sank into the tightest pussy I’d ever been in. The sultry haze in her eyes disappeared in a nanosecond and tears welled.
Shit.
I grasped the side of her face and stilled, forcing myself not to pull back and thrust even deeper. “Shh, baby, it’s okay.” Something that was too damn close to emotion settled in my chest and fuck if I didn’t want to hurt her. “Give it a minute. You’ll adjust.”
Her muscles clenched around me as her sexy, breathless voice filtered into my head. “What’s your name?”
The side of my mouth tipped up. “Alex.”
Her hips eased back but her heels dug into my ass. Then she suddenly yanked on my jacket and used the leverage of her grip to pull herself upright against me. My dick slammed all the way home as her lips touched my ear. “I hate you, Alex.”
I froze. For half a second.
Then my nostrils flared and I gripped a handful of her hair. Hard. “You think I’m going to let you come now?”
“Fuck you,” she hissed, grinding against me.
I pulled and her head fell back. My teeth dragged up her throat but my dick was still as fuck. I didn’t know what the fuck had just happened, and I didn’t care. She wanted to play games? “Oh,” I warned, “I’m gonna fuck you.” I bit her ear. “And I’m going to do it hard and fast.” She was about to see exactly how fucked this could get.
Her pussy already pulsing on me, she moaned.
“I’m going to show you every inch of what I can do for you.” I pulled out slow and kissed her neck like I wasn’t pissed as hell. She tried to drag me back but I was in control now. My hand on her chest, my teeth grazing her hard nipple but not giving her enough pressure to make it worth it, I held her back.
“You can’t do shit for me.”
I forced a chuckle, pulled her off the bar and spun her. “You can’t begin to imagine what I can do to you.” I kicked her legs apart then I stepped back. Goddamn, her ass was fucking perfect. “Put your hands on the bar.” Calculated, controlled, I lowered my voice. “Or walk out.”
She didn’t hesitate. Her hands gripped the edge and she pushed her ass out. “You fucking walk out.”
“I will.” I grabbed her waist with one hand and shoved two fingers inside her with the other. “After I fuck you.”
“Good.” She tried and failed to fight a moan.
I worked her exactly where I knew she needed it and leaned down to her ear. “You hate this?” Her desire dripped down my hand.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“I’m just getting started.” I abruptly pulled my hand out, fisted my cock, then thrust all the way home. My head fell back, the air left my lungs and for one fucking heartbeat, I lost my mind. Her tight little cunt clamped down and all I could think was it’d be a goddamn dream to feel her come all over me.
But she hated me.
No one hated me.
Women fucking loved me. They paid thousands to get what this little bitch was getting for free.
Impaled, her body hanging on my junk, she was humping my shit before I even got a chance to work her into a frenzy. I told myself she was no different than the scores of women I’d already fucked, but deep down I knew that was bullshit.
I wound my fingers through the soft waves of her hair and wrapped it around my hand. Dragging my mouth up her spine and over her shoulder, I worked my hips. Slow and measured, I ground deep and used my teeth right where her neck met her collarbone. Ignoring the complete and total mind fuck this woman was giving me, I whispered in her ear, “I’m going to ride the fuck out of you.”
But I wasn’t going to let her come. No fucking way.
I thrust hard, once, twice, then I did what I never do. I fucked for me. I held her down and pounded into her with everything I had. She was so goddamn tight and wet, her pussy didn’t fit my cock like a glove, it fucking owned it.
My balls drew tight, my muscles tensed and the first pulse of my orgasm shot into the condom.
Then her pussy clenched around me, hard.
Goddamn.
The second pulse hit me and I blindly drew my hand back. The sound of my palm connecting with her ass finished me off. I barely pulled out before she went all the way off.
“What?” She frantically reached behind her. “No.”
I whipped the condom off and tied it. It was in my pocket and my pants were zipped in two seconds flat.
“You fucking asshole.” She glared over her shoulder at me. “I’m not done!”
I gave her the smile that said I didn’t give a fuck. “I am.”
With one hand holding the edge of the bar for support, she reached for the nearest bottle, lifted it to her lips and downed three gulps.
Marginally less pissed after blowing my load, I took in the sight for what it was. A hot-as-fuck chick in heels and a red lace bra getting shitty.
I palmed my keys. “You’re not driving. Get dressed. I’ll take you home.”
She turned toward me and stumbled. “You’re right, I’m not driving.” She set the bottle on the bar, grabbed her dress off the floor and yanked it over her head. Then she leaned forward and narrowed her gorgeous eyes at me. “Because I don’t have a car anymore. I sold it to pay for this party.” Squaring her shoulders, she gave me the finger then spun and teetered to the elevator. Jabbing at the call button, she threw one last insult over her shoulder. “And I don’t want a ride home from an asshole who sucks in bed.”
“We weren’t in a bed, sweetness.” I bit the pet name out even though I knew showing emotion was a fucking amateur move.
“Thank God.” The elevator doors opened, she stepped inside and a second later she was gone.
Jesus fuck, I was losing my touch.
I ran a hand through my hair and noticed her phone on the bar. I picked it up and the screen didn’t even have a lock code. One swipe and I saw the app. All the paintings in the show were listed with a minimum opening bid and a buy now price.
Not a single painting had sold.
I glanced around the makeshift gallery as understanding hit me right in the gut. “God-fucking-dammit.”
I bought every painting.
Revenge fuck.
That’s all that was.
Revenge.
Or hate fuck. Fucking both. Because fuck my boss and her fucking cougar-ette boyfriend and her stupid fucking catfight and firing me, and fuck the kennel and, ohmigod, fuck these stupid, stupid fucking heels.
I kicked them off.
I wanted to leave them on the damn sidewalk but somewhere in my alcohol-infused brain I reasoned I could sell them on consignment. Consignment. Dead broke and drunk, doing the walk of shame with no underwear because I fucked the hottest guy I’d ever laid eyes on, and I was thinking about how much I could get for my shoes.
Fuck my life.
And fuck Alex. I hated him. Hated him. And I’d let him fuck me? I’d begged him for it? Because my life hadn’t just shit the bed enough, I needed to sabotage every last thing to make sure I was good and fucked? What the hell was wrong with me? Was that how I handled a kiss from Jesse? By throwing away my entire future and fucking another guy? Oh my God.
I couldn’t even think straight.
And the stupid pavement was still warm under my feet at ten o’clock at night. I’d better enjoy it because in a few weeks when rent was due, I’d be moving north to live with my mother. Maybe I should just ask Jesse if I could go to Ocala then fuck him too.
I snorted.
Jesse. Who had a girlfriend but kissed me but was supposed to be my best friend, Jesse.
I yanked open the door to the old art deco apartment building I lived in then slammed it shut behind me. I hated the seafoam green walls but the thought of leaving them to live somewhere colder made me want to cry. And the fact that I was more upset about that than not selling a single stupid painting should have registered as a red flag, but it didn’t. I wasn’t even pissed anymore about the charity going up in flames before it got off the ground. I was pissed about my apartment.
I stomped up the stairs and made it all the way to my door when I realized I didn’t have my keys… or my phone. “Shit.”