The Mr. Wrong Series

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The Mr. Wrong Series Page 37

by Madden, A. M.


  She took his hand and said, “Let’s dance.” And as she pulled him onto the dance floor, I wanted to beat her with her Ho Peep cane.

  Chapter 9

  Kyle

  Less than a minute into the dance and I wondered why the hell I accepted. I actually considered apologizing, admitting I made a mistake. I’d rather be dancing with Catwoman. Until in my peripheral I saw Catwoman being led onto the other end of the dance floor by a tall cowboy.

  Instead of soft ruffled material beneath my palms, I should have been gripping smooth rubber. And not the kind that went over my cock, although that would be later. What I desired was the kind of latex used for a Catwoman costume. The kind that showcased every curve, every crevice, and every dip of one of the most perfect bodies I’d ever been balls deep in.

  Oblivious to my thoughts, Bo Peep seemed content as we swayed to the slow music the DJ provided. Every time I looked down, my eyes were met with an abundance of cleavage. She had the type of tits men dreamt of fucking, and yet they weren’t having any effect on me.

  “I’m Amber.” Bright blue eyes stared up at me.

  “Hal.” I blurted out The Green Lantern’s real name.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Hal…” When she repeated my name, I had to fight the urge to laugh. Inching her body closer to mine, her seductive drawl accompanied by her hands roaming up my chest should have turned me on. Instead, I saw the pussy I wanted dancing with a cowboy.

  My eyes tracked his hands traveling up and down Vanessa’s body. With each passing touch, his fingers got closer to parts of her I had enjoyed on several occasions. It was when his thumb skimmed close to her tits that I saw red. Various scenarios on how to stop him played in my mind. Dammit! I shouldn’t care. Why did I care? I had a hot blonde ready for the taking, but all I could think of was that I didn’t want that asshole’s hands on Vanessa.

  Right before Tex’s hands curved around her ass, I twirled Amber with an outstretched arm, catching Catwoman’s attention. She turned and looked at my dance partner with disdain. That had to mean something, right? What—I didn’t know, but fuck if I wasn’t going to find out.

  Vanessa’s eyes then caught mine and held. Our partners forgotten, the bar noise went unheard, while a silent battle of wills continued. She was the first to look away because the prick dancing with her said something. It was then I realized my partner had also said something to me.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  Amber’s gaze ping-ponged between Vanessa and me. Her brows scrunched up right before she patted me on the arm. “Thanks for the dance, Hal,” she said and walked away without an explanation. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what it was that miffed her ruffles.

  So, there I stood on the dance floor, alone and the only one not moving. Fuck it, I thought, and a few steps later tapped Tex on the shoulder. Vanessa’s green eyes narrowed just as the cowboy looked back at me. “Cutting in.”

  “Get your own partner, Peter Pan. The lady is with me.”

  Peter Pan? Vanessa laughed, and once again I was ready to punch Luca. But first, I had to deal with this dickhead. Rather than put the ball back in his court, I held my hand out to Vanessa. “Dance with me.”

  “You can’t be serious,” the cowboy responded before she did. “I’m not done with her yet.”

  “Done with me?” Vanessa moved her fiery glare to the prick who had just made a huge mistake. A smug smirk automatically spread on my face when she stepped out of his hold. It was short lived when she said, “I got an even better idea. You two can dance with each other.”

  She pivoted on her spiked heel and gracefully walked away from the two of us. The cowboy cursed at one of us, or maybe both of us, and neither she nor I cared. Her retreat proved as much, and my chasing her did as well. Before she even reached the end of the dance floor, I grabbed her arm and spun her around to face me. “You should be dancing with me.”

  Fury darkened her green eyes as she leaned closer, getting right in my face. “You didn’t ask. Besides, I like cowboys.”

  “Yet, he’s standing over there holding his dick, and you’re here arguing with me.”

  “I can solve that problem.” Her body attempted to move away, but my grip on her bicep prevented it from happening.

  “Give me ten minutes. I have a proposition for you.”

  Vanessa firmly placed her hands on her hips. “I’ll give you five.”

  Not wanting to waste a second, I grabbed her hand and led her to the small hallway in the back of the bar.

  “Look, I’m going to make this simple. I want you.” Her eyes widened. “You already know I’m not looking for a labeled relationship. I like my freedom and messing around, but what I really want is to mess around with you. I have no interest in having a girlfriend, and that’s not what I’m suggesting.”

  “What do you want, Kyle?”

  The best thing to do was to come right out and say it. “I want to fuck you and only you. We fuck each other and no one else.”

  “Sounds like a commitment to me.”

  “We’re committing to screwing around, yes. But, no expectations other than—you can expect to have at least one orgasm each time we’re together.”

  She looked away as she contemplated what I had just suggested. When her gorgeous green eyes came back to mine, she said, “We need rules.”

  “I agree.” I stepped closer, leaving no space between us and no room for her to change her mind. “Come to my place tonight and we can iron out the details.”

  “We go to my place, and you have a deal.”

  “I’ll go anywhere you want.” Little did she know I’d go to Newark, New Jersey to talk to her. I couldn’t help the pull at the corners of my mouth.

  “Stop smiling, I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

  “Yet,” I repeated. And since I still had a minute on the clock, I pushed my cup-shielded cock against her black latex covered pussy and spent it with my mouth on hers. She opened eagerly for my tongue, the taste of sweet lemons and Vanessa making me wish we were already at her apartment.

  Our kiss was interrupted by the DJ’s voice that the ballots had been tallied, and all winners of the costume contest were about to be announced.

  “To be continued,” I said when I pulled away. Her eyelids hung heavy with lust when I took her hand and led her down the hallway.

  As we approached the bar, Cassie grabbed Vanessa’s other hand and yanked. “There you are. We need to stand together so we can collect our prize.”

  Supergirl was mighty confident. Luca called me over, “Get ready my friend. We’re about to hear our names called.”

  Cassie shook her head, and I leaned down to her. “I hope you didn’t practice your acceptance speech.” She glared at me. “By the way, I’ll have a double Crown on the rocks.”

  “Shut up. You aren’t winning. We are. Didn’t you hear the cheers for us? Hell, Brae has been getting looks all night.”

  When I glanced at the newlyweds, Jude still had Brae in the same hold while brooding. The only difference was frayed threads and tears circled his neck, and his cape was now tied around her waist in a makeshift skirt.

  Winners names were called, then our ears perked up when the DJ said, “The winners of the group costumes are…”

  Cassie turned to me. “Get ready to go down, pretty boy.”

  “Is that a proposition?”

  She tsk’d and slapped my chest. “No. It’s not.”

  Vanessa chimed in, “Proposition seems to be the term of the night.”

  I shot her a wink. “Only for you. By the way, we need to stop at my place so I can change out of this get up.”

  The DJ held up a gaudy, cheap as fuck, plastic trophy. “The winners are… The Justice League!”

  Supergirl threw her arms up in the air claiming victory and shouted, “Yes! We won!”

  I started toward the dance floor. “Sorry, but we won.”

  The DJ went on to mention the members of the Justice Leagu
e, both male and female alike. Cassie’s expression changed from elation to one that looked like her puppy just died. “Well, that sucks. We aren’t a group.”

  “Looks like we are, but if you don’t want to claim the title, I’ll be happy to do it.”

  Her cape lifted as she practically took flight racing me to the dance floor. The DJ handed us the trophy, which I pretended disappointment but gladly let her have. Once we got back to the bar, Jude stood from the barstool his ass occupied all night, waved, and left with his wife.

  Luca tossed a hundred dollar bill on the bar, catching the bartender’s attention. “The ladies’ drinks are on me.”

  “What the fuck? I’m thirsty,” I said to my generous friend.

  “Fine. The Riddler’s drinks are as well.”

  We made a detour to my place for me to change, and then headed right for hers. Once through her door, an awkward silence stretched for a few seconds that felt like a few minutes.

  “I need to get out of this thing; I’m dying of heat.”

  “Go ahead.”

  The mask of her costume and her keys landed on a small half-moon shaped table in the foyer. She bent at the waist, yanked off one platformed boot and then the other. When she chucked them toward the corner and knocked over a decorative umbrella stand, I laughed out loud.

  “What?”

  “You’re a slob.” The place was small and a mess to my standards. A red lace bra sat on her coffee table. A few pairs of shoes littered the hardwood floor and the orange shaggy retro area rug. Dishes in the sink, makeup on her counter, and a hairbrush on a side table all seemed perfectly in place for someone like Vanessa.

  “Shut it. I wasn’t exactly expecting company when I left earlier,” she quipped defensively. “Make yourself comfortable. I have beer in the fridge.” Instead of walking away, she stepped directly before me and turned. “Can you unzip me?” Her hands gathered her chestnut hair and she waited.

  The clicks the metal tab made over the teeth of the zipper taunted me. Every inch that I lowered it goaded me to follow its path with my tongue. With each clink, her smooth skin I exposed tormented my lips like a piece of metal tempting a magnet.

  Leaving me behind in the foyer, she walked toward a closed door and disappeared behind it. I wanted nothing more than to follow her, but we needed to talk. If I started something like peeling her out of that Catwoman suit, talking would not be happening in the near future.

  It only took a few steps until I was in her small living room. I could smell her perfume lingering with a faint hint of vanilla from the candle she must have recently lit.

  I really didn’t know her all that well, but the way her apartment was furnished and decorated spoke volumes. The furniture was as bland as bland could be. Beige couches, pale woods, neutral everywhere.

  Besides the disarray, hints of a personality that was all Vanessa came from the artwork she had on her walls. They weren’t expensive paintings or even lithographs, but in those framed prints that could be purchased in any mall in America, her story could easily be told.

  At one glance, it made me wonder if she wanted to see the world, experience passion in the most passionate of places, and live. Was she starving for culture and craving experience? My eyes scanned the different landmarks on the landscape she painted in her living room.

  Paris, Rome, even Sydney, Australia were places I visited over the years, and until then I had no desire to return to any of them. Seeing them laid out as they were on her wall felt intimate in a strange way. I couldn’t help but be confused by the sudden urge I felt to want to go back there… but go back there with her.

  The sound of her shower meant she was not merely slipping into something more comfortable. Taking her advice, I helped myself to a beer from her fridge and relaxed on her couch to wait for her.

  I planned to reiterate what I already admitted to at the bar. We were good together; to pretend we weren’t or ignore how good we were was plain stupidity. But now being so close to this come to Jesus moment, I worried I wouldn’t sell myself or my plan successfully.

  Even in my own head I knew it sounded ridiculous. Neither one of us were interested in any kind of a relationship. So why would I think suggesting one was a good idea? Yet, how could we not pursue the amazing sexual chemistry between us? If we called it nothing more than good fucking, it still needed to be explored.

  While I rehearsed my spiel in my head, she appeared in the living room looking beautiful. In spite of the freezing temperatures outside, she wore a pair of knit athletic shorts and a form fitting tank top. Those bare legs begged for my hands, and coincidentally my hands begged for her.

  Her eyes noticed the beer in my hand, and she backtracked to her kitchen to get herself a bottle of water. There weren’t many places to sit in her living room, so she planted her ass beside me on the couch with a sigh.

  “Sorry it took so long. I needed a shower. I think I lost five pounds in that thing.”

  The space between us couldn’t have been more than a foot, and with her so close her scent assaulted me. “You smell phenomenal.”

  “I know, right?” She stretched her arm so her wrist came right below my nose. “I love it. Don’t tell Brae. When we were at their place last week, I spotted it on the vanity. One sniff and I instantly fell in love… so I swiped it. Brae will think her cleaning lady stole it. They hate each other.”

  “Modesty.”

  Vanessa’s eyes widened. “Yes. Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you had a great nose.” She lifted her arm and gave herself a long healthy sniff. Her cheeks flushed. “Your competition?”

  “No. It’s mine.”

  She looked impressed, and fuck if that didn’t boost my ego. I think besides making her come as expertly as I had, knowing she loved one of my products made me equally as proud. Especially since she had no idea it was mine.

  Though it wasn’t my skin touching hers, in a way, I was all over her body. The image of her smoothing that luscious white cream over her arms made me want to have this conversation even more.

  “So,” she curled her legs under her ass, “let’s discuss this proposition of yours.”

  “Like I said before, I want to fuck you and only you. And in turn, I want you to fuck me and only me.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “With rules, of course.” I angled my body toward hers. “The thing is, it’s hard to find a compatible partner without the chance they’ll become clingy or want more than orgasms.”

  Vanessa raised her hand up, palm facing me. “All good points, but like I said at the bar, that sounds a lot like a commitment. I’m not interested in a commitment.”

  “Can you please just hear me out for one second, and then you can chime in with your negativity?”

  She crossed her arms. “Fine. The floor is yours.”

  “Thank you. Here are the rules…” Vanessa nodded. “No commitment other than the fact that we just fuck each other.” Another nod. “Once we prove we’re clean and protected, no more condoms.” She arched an eyebrow. “I’ve never gone without, and I get tested yearly. My last results came just before meeting you. Can I assume you’re on birth control?”

  “Yes, and I get tested as well. I can give you my results right now if you want. And, like you, I’ve never been with someone who was bare.”

  Fuck if that didn’t have my dick turning to stone. “If we want to be with someone else, we break off our arrangement. No questions asked, no hard feelings.”

  Vanessa once again nodded, then added, “If one of us wants it to end, even without someone else on the sidelines, same rule applies. No hard feelings, no questions, no explanations.”

  I loved that she added to the list. This meant she was warming up to the idea. “Fine, rule number five, no falling in love.”

  “Absolutely not.” Her pink tongue wet her lips. “So, we’re basically going to be friends with benefits?”

  “We are friends, and sex with you is definitely a benefit.” I winked at her.

  “True. So, you wo
n’t start courting me and being all lovey dovey when we’re out?”

  “Nope. Unless you think me wanting nothing more than being buried balls deep inside of you lovey dovey, then we should be good. So, do we have a deal?”

  Vanessa smirked and extended her hand. “Deal.”

  Chapter 10

  Vanessa

  That proposition should have had me asking him to leave, but on a certain level it all made sense. Kyle’s claim that we had great sex was true. The man knew my body better than any other I’d ever been with.

  Kyle released my hand after giving the back of it a chaste kiss. “You’re something else, Nessa.” He pulled my feet onto his lap and started rubbing the arches. With each pass of his thumb I groaned.

  “Nessa?” My back settled into the soft cushion.

  “Since you’re fond of nicknames, that one is mine for you.”

  The term he chose was endearing if I was into that sort of thing. “Do I have a choice?”

  “Nope. Unless you want to be called Kyle’s bitch or KB for short.”

  “Nevermind, Nessa is fine.”

  “Thought so.”

  The pressure of his fingers intensified. “Mmm, that feels so good. Those shoes hurt like hell tonight.”

  “If it’s any consolation, you were the hottest woman in the place. No one held a candle to you.”

  My red-tipped nails wiggled beneath his fingers. “Not even Ho Peep?”

  He let out a chuckle, slid his arm under my knees, yanked me down the couch, and angled himself until he hovered over me. My breath hitched when his eyes met my own. “Were you jealous?”

  Yes. “No, of course not. She just didn’t seem your type, that’s all.”

  “She wasn’t.” My chest brushed against his with each breath we took. He tucked a loose tendril behind my ear. “You’re my type. You know, if I had a type.”

  Something dawned on me. Was this arrangement we agreed on the first one he’d been in? Had he done something like this before? If so, why did it end? Was it his idea? Hers? Shit. No, I didn’t care. It was no big deal. Just sex.

 

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