Playing For Love

by J. C. Grant

  do to keep her name professionally?

  12:16 PM

  Elaine PR: Easier than changing it.

  Taking “Taylor” requires paperwork.

  She can do nothing and keep her own.

  I'm guessing YOU have some

  convincing to do.

  12:21 PM

  Fuck!

  Austin: Make all her social media as

  Austin Taylor. And ALL future

  press announcements.

  12:22 PM

  Elaine PR: I already made them as

  Austin James. And it sounds

  better than Austin Taylor.

  12:24 PM

  Is she for real?

  Austin: I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT

  SOUNDS BETTER. I'm paying

  YOU. DO IT.

  12:25 PM

  Elaine PR: You can shouty caps at

  me all day. You're paying me to look

  out for HER career and public image.

  Using James is BETTER, and she's

  already worked under that name.

  12:28 PM

  I took a deep breath. I was seconds from crushing her phone. Between Mathew, the impending ex bullshit, and this, I was going to fucking lose it. I took another deep breath and focused.

  Austin: Consider it a career

  makeover. Soon as the

  announcement goes out, I

  want all of her social media

  changed to Taylor.

  12:33 PM

  There was some serious convincing ahead of me.

  I needed to get inside her and start negotiating. When I was fucking her, she was submissive—most of the time—and I needed her in a submissive mind frame to get her to agree to this. If that didn't work...

  It was going to work.

  I stared at her, willing her to hurry.

  Her mom was going to be here around three—just enough time to get to the dress appointment. I needed at least an hour to fuck her and at least thirty minutes for her to get ready before her mom showed up.

  I checked her phone again. Twelve forty-five already.

  Fuck.

  My eyes focused on her, gesturing in what I assumed was some type of description of what she was wanting. She wanted to marry me. She hadn't hesitated once about the wedding. She could've backed out at the courthouse or said she couldn't find a ring. Hell, she could have said she felt sick, but she hadn't.

  She looked over, noticing my attention and, I hoped, my need for her to hurry the fuck up. I watched her a few more moments before I decided, Fuck this.

  I knew how to get my girl's attention. I just needed to take care of something first.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Twenty-minutes later I was stepping out onto the deck, wearing my sunglasses and a pair of tight, short, low-riding swim shorts that hid very little—if that didn't get her attention focused on me, nothing would. I watched Austin as I walked past, putting a subtle flex in each step.

  I got more than just Austin's attention.

  Austin's eyes landed on me, then turned to the florist giving her a warning look and immediately, and none too subtly, redirected the woman's focus back to the arrangements. I felt a strong sense of pride at that—her being jealous over me—since I was so out-of-control jealous over her. I hoped someday she would feel as obsessed with me as I was with her. I knew it wasn't considered healthy, but I needed it.

  “Normal” relationships didn't work for us. We both had issues that affected our everyday lives. Someone that hadn't experienced the things we had would never understand us. The outside world might view our relationship as fucked up, co-dependent, or whatever, but it worked for us. It was what we needed.

  My anxiety instantly dropped in regards to her previous engagements as I realized, that's why she never got married.

  She couldn't pretend to be normal twenty-four/seven. And was too guarded to let anyone in, let anyone really understand her and she wasn’t willing to talk about her issues.

  Austin didn't need to explain herself with me. I understood her issues—a combination of my own personal experiences which I’ve had six years to figure out. And it didn't hurt that I was really good at reading people.

  Our issues worked together, that's why we worked. She needed me in control. She wanted me in control. As much as I wanted her submission. Austin needed to know she could trust me to take care of her. Relinquishing her power to me allowed her to clear her mind of all her responsibilities and stress. I needed her to trust me enough to give up that control. It satisfied my overwhelming need to protect and provide for her, while soothing my violent need to own her. And she loved my possessiveness, it was reassuring to her and her acceptance of it was reassuring to me.

  I could still feel eyes on me as I made the long walk out to the pool. I just hoped those eyes burning through me were Austin's and not the flower lady. I put a little extra flex in my ass and back, hoping to tempt her into throwing the flower people out and jumping on my cock again.

  Austin definitely turned me into a walking hard-on. Woken up some dormant, sex-obsessed part of me that was totally onboard with seeing how many times a day we could fuck and how long we could fuck. And I really wanted to try to fuck her into unconsciousness.

  The last one might be a little too fucked up.

  I looked over my shoulder to see Austin walking them into the house. A triumphant smirk formed on my face.

  I didn't care if she came out here bitching at me as long as I had her full attention.

  Yeah... nothing healthy or normal about either of us.

  And I couldn't fucking care less.

  Jumping into the pool, sunglasses still on, I tried to rid myself of the smug satisfaction I felt.

  It was time to start negotiating.

  I stayed under a moment, planning, focusing, letting the cool water calm me. Her attention was only a hundred percent on me when I was inside her, and I wanted that level of attention from her right now.

  Fuck, I needed it from her all the time.

  Breaking through the water, I looked toward the house just as she emerged through the open patio doors—still dressed. My mood dampened at that, then picked back up as my cock jerked remembering she didn't have underwear on. My only real hurdle was a piece of cotton stealing my spot inside her.

  I watched her make the long walk, her hips swaying, her tits bouncing just enough...

  “What was that? Were you trying to make me jealous? You swore you would never do that again. Is it entertaining for you?” she shot question after question, looking sexy as fuck all fired up.

  “What? No! Calm down.” I reached for her, lowering my voice in a way I knew her body would respond to. “I wanted your attention. You were taking too long. I need you to myself for a while.”

  Her breathing sped up, responding to my voice as she looked at my outstretched hand, sizing me up—for what, I didn't know, but I was down with whatever she had in mind.

  “I thought we were going to a dress shop,” she hedged, before biting her lip. My dick throbbed in response. She went on, “We don't have time to swim.”

  “Give me your hand.”

  “Why? So you can pull me in?” she asked, seeing right through my intentions.

  I couldn't stop the smirk from forming on my face.

  “David,” she admonished. “I don't want to try on wedding dresses with wet—”

  Pushing up on the edge before she could finish her protest, I grabbed her around the waist, hauling her into the pool with me. Her hands grabbed onto my head and shoulders for balance—as if I would ever drop her.

  “Time to get wet.” She shivered at my growled words, the double meaning was clear as I slid her body down mine, making sure she felt every hard inch of my cock.

  “David, we don't have time—”

  “You are mine,” I cut her off gruffly, my hand diving under her dress, finding her bare sex. My fingers slipped easily through her soft lips, separating them. “This is mine. Whenever I want
it.” I slid a finger along her clit and her body immediately softened to my assault. “Understand, sweet girl?”

  At my rough tone, her breathing escalated and her lips parted.

  “Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but bounced off the water between us. She gripped my traps, fingers digging in, her eyes had that dazed, needy look I loved. Her thighs wrapped around me, ankles locking behind my back.

  I quickly yanked the offensive cotton out of her before she had time to protest. Her yelp sparked something primal in me, making me want more whimpered, helpless noises escaping from that pretty throat. I tossed the piece of cotton over to the far side of the patio. I didn't understand her squeamishness about it or why she seemed to expect me to be. It would be like being squeamish about her cum or her squirting in my face. Me being squeamish about her would never happen.

  Shoving the waist of my shorts low with one hand, I gripped my cock with the other as she clung to me. She bit her lip again, watching my desperate movements, her expression softening, surrendering. A low growl of satisfaction rumbled out of my chest as I gripped her hips and yanked them forward, plunging into her tight, protesting pussy.

  “David,” she cried out in shock, which just spurred me on.

  “Yeah,” I groaned, pulling her hips down, my fingers digging into her soft flesh. I leaned back, panting as I watched my cock spread her open, her pussy lips pulled tight as I forced my way inside. “Take it, Austin.”

  A helpless, hurt noise left her throat and I pushed deeper, hitting her end. “That's my girl, so hot and tight around my cock.”

  At my words, she trembled and clenched around me.

  A flash of weakness shot through me as the heat of her cunt engulfed me like a vise, sucking at my cock. My eyes closed as I tried to regain my composure. She always did this to me. Damn near brought me to my knees every time I got inside her.

  My eyes opened to see her green ones watching me, moving over my face, landing on my lips. Her expression was unguarded as she studied me, my sunglasses giving her a false sense of privacy. I knew she loved me, but the way she looked at me now... Everything I felt for her slammed into me at once—love, possession, jealously, desperation, and primal need. It was pure chaos inside me. And I loved it.

  Watching her as I pulled out, then thrust back in, my pace slowed by the water, but bottoming out with each stroke. She was gorgeous, eyes half-lidded, lips parted, making those sexy little noises that drove me crazy.

  “David,” she breathed, yanking her dress and bra down, revealing her tits, swollen and firm, rising and falling with her heavy breaths. She was as needy and horny as I'd ever seen her. I fucking loved it. Her hands gripped the back of my neck, pulling, directing me down to her nipple. “Suck.”

  A helpless moan bubbled up out of me at her demand as I caught her nipple in my mouth, suckling and drawing on her sensitive flesh with long, hard pulls. As her body jolted and helpless sounds spilled from her, a possessive, greedy gratification washed over me. The way she responded to me, made me feel ten feet tall.

  I worked her nipple roughly with lips, tongue, and teeth until she was writhing mindlessly, gasping heated demands, “Suck it, yeah. Like that. Oh, God, like that. More.” My girl was just as filthy as me when it came to our sex. The nastier I was, the hornier she got.

  “You're my dirty girl,” I rasped against her skin, emphasizing my words with a deep grind. “You love every nasty, filthy thing I do to you.”

  A low keening sound escaped her throat as she shook in my arms, her cunt clamping down on my cock, pulsing around me. Pulling. Her pussy was so tight, it felt like she was going to strangled my dick. It was hot as fuck.

  “Yeah, you love it. Your pussy fucking loves it.”

  “Yes,” she hissed out.

  “My sweet girl,” I growled before sucking her other nipple into my mouth. Her hands fisted my hair, pulling as I suckled and tongued her tender flesh. I stayed deep inside her, pushing hard.

  The water came up in waves around us, splashing. Her panting breaths and groans drown out everything else. Her muscles trembled and I knew her begging chant would start.

  “Yes, yes, yes. David, please.” Her sweet voice needy, as ever, fueled my desire. I sucked harder, earning me a whimpered, “David.”

  Reluctantly, I let her nipple go, giving it a parting nip. Wrapping an arm around her waist, pinning her soft body to mine as I fisted her hair, roughly pulling her head down to claim her lips in a hungry kiss. My tongue dove in, fucking her mouth deep. I let her know I owned her with that kiss. That no one would ever own her the way I did. She was mine.

  “Come on, sweetheart. Keep coming on my cock,” I breathed into her mouth.

  I wouldn't last much longer with her helpless little cries and her pussy gripping my dick, milking me. Just thinking about how much her body wanted it—my cock, my cum—made my balls draw up, ready to spill into her greedy cunt.

  “Come on. I can feel how much your pussy wants it. Come again and I'll give it to you.”

  “Harder, David. Deeper.” Her breath caught in her throat as she pleaded.

  I could press in a little deeper, but she was already taking nine inches. Base to tip, it was just barely more than nine-and-a-quarter. She had taken it all before, more than once, but she was swollen from her cycle; it was a tighter fit than normal.

  “Does it hurt?” I asked through a labored breath.

  “Yeah, a good hurt. Come on. I know you have more to give me. Don't hold back. I need it all.”

  “Anything my girl needs,” I breathed against her lips as my arms tightened around her, pulling her closer as I pushed all the way to the base, her clit pressing against my lower abs, thrusting deep in a pulsing rhythm. Her eyes closed as her mouth fell open in a soundless moan and I knew now was the time. “Don’t I always give you what you need?”

  “Uh-huh.” Her voice was a small whimper. Her body quivered as her hands gripped my neck tighter. Nails digging in.

  “Then give me this, take my name. Give me that much. I need it, I really fucking need it.” My voice was strained as I struggled not to come before her. “You asked me last night what I needed from you... I need something that shows you're mine.”

  “David,” she cried out as her body quaked against mine, her cunt milking me relentlessly.

  Fuck.

  “I'll always give you what you need. This is what I need from you. Just take my name,” I rasped as her pussy clamped down tight. “Oh, fuck, sweet girl. Please. Just take my name,” I groaned, pushing deep. My muscles tensed and my cock jumped then relief pounded through me as I came long and hard inside her hot tight cunt.

  “Yes, okay,” she gasped.

  Austin

  “You know that magic cock is the only reason I'm marrying you, right?” I teased, trying to lighten his mood and taking a moment to compose myself from both the hot sex and what I had just agreed to.

  “Mrs. Taylor,” he muttered through his labored breaths. “You got a golden pussy, you own me outright. Turned me inside out with that shit.”

  I huffed out a laugh at his seriousness.

  “You’re gonna take my name?” he checked.

  I nodded, despite my uncertainty, but his answering smile was leaning my decision in his favor.

  David eased out of me, leaving me feeling hollow. I struggled with my dress as he easily pulled his shorts up and gracefully hopped out of the pool, making his way toward the house. He stopped short, grabbing a towel off a pool chair at the far end.

  I hadn't noticed the towels before.

  “Come on, sweetheart.” David walked back toward me.

  My wet dress slowed my progress as I started up the stairs. David wrapped a towel around me before I was fully out of the water, running his hands over me, drying me off.

  “David, were those towels out here—?” I started to ask.

  “I honestly don't know.” His voice was quiet as he gently wrung my dress out.

  After quickly disposing of my
discarded tampon and taking the opportunity to laugh at my reaction, David scooped me up and carried me into the house, easily navigating the two long, white, leather couches and went straight upstairs. He put me down once we were in the shower—still clothed. I was grateful we didn't run into Byron on the way. I didn't know if he saw anything, but I wasn't quite ready to face him.

  David undressed us both and gave me a mini massage as we quickly showered. Dressing in a black maxi dress and nude platforms, I couldn't help but watch as David pulled on his worn jeans, hiding his heavily muscled thighs, then his white tee from earlier, slowly concealed that obscenely defined eight-pack from my view. He slipped on flip-flops and his black hat.

  Damn, crazy hot and already fucked me twice today.

  “Let's go downstairs. I think your surprise is here,” David said mischievously.

  “What surprise?” I asked as he ushered me out of the room.

  He didn't answer, but I heard voices as we made our way down the stairs. One voice I knew well, but couldn’t possibly be here.

  This is David.

  I hurried down the stairs into the kitchen to find her sitting there chatting with Byron. Casual as can be.

  “What are you doing here?” I half yelled as I rushed across the large space.

  “Hi, baby.” She turned in her chair, facing me, the jagged mocha brown pieces of her asymmetrical bob fanning out. “Mr. Taylor over there” —she nodded in David's direction as she stood up— “made all the arrangements.”

  Growing up, my friends loved my mother and wanted her for their own. She was fun, easygoing, and she took us everywhere, even the places you would be too embarrassed to have your mom take you. People always thought she was my college-aged friend. And she hadn't changed much over the years. She always wore black and always sported an edgy hairstyle. She looked sleek in her black-linen jumper, and appeared twenty years younger than her age of fifty-two.

  When I reached her, she wrapped me in a tight hug. Holding me, she whispered, “Are you happy?”