by JA Huss
Cindy laughs. “Why, Detective,” she says. “That’s not what this conversation is about.”
“I don’t care, Cindy. I don’t give a fuck whose sister you are. I don’t give a fuck what Oliver thinks. And even if I’d known that first time you came to my door with my food, there’s no way in hell I’d ever look at another woman again.”
“He’s coming here, you know.”
“I know. And I don’t care what he thinks. I’m good for you. I am. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, Cindy. Or put you in danger. You’re not part of this, OK? You’re not going to get mixed up in this whole Mister world. You won’t. I can keep you safe. No one,” I say, pulling her into my chest and wrapping my arms tightly around her, “will ever hurt you as long as I live.”
She rests her head on my shoulder and hugs me back. I can smell her hair, and her skin, and her clothes. And everything about her is sweet and good and delicious. “It’s cute that you think I need protecting. We’ll be fine. We’ll figure this out and take care of it. We’ll—”
“No,” I say, pushing her back a few inches so I can look down at her face. “No. You’re not understanding me. There is no we in this Mister problem. Yes, the other guys and I will figure it out, but you’re staying here with Ellie, and Ivy, and Tori. Oliver really would kick my ass if I dragged you into this.”
“Paxton,” she says, grabbing hold of my biceps with both hands. “He’s my brother. What happened to him happened to me too. And yeah, I was too young to understand what it all meant at the time. But I get it now. I understand. I’m as much a part of this as anyone. I’m not going to just sit back and let these people put him in danger. Or you, for fuck’s sake.”
I want to shake her right now. Ask her what the fuck Victoria Arias said. What little plan she might be hatching and how she might’ve tried to involve Cindy. Because that’s the kind of woman Tori is. But I don’t want to fight about this bullshit now. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, Miss Cookie.” My hands slide down to her ass and lift up that flirty little skirt until they are cupped against her cheeks with only her silky panties holding me back.
“The first time I walked in his office I wanted nothing more than to have him bend me over his desk and fuck me from behind.”
“Jesus,” I say. “Yes.”
“I wanted the window shades wide open so anyone passing could see us.”
“Fuck,” I say, my dick getting hard. I have a feeling she’s just trying to change the subject away from our real-world problems but I don’t really care.
“I wanted him to slip his fingers under the elastic of my panties and pull them down to my knees—”
I drop my hat on the floor, turn her around, and push her face first onto the desk, lifting her skirt up, as I grab her panties. “Like this, Miss Cookie?” I tug on them. Hard, making her gasp as I drag them down and kick her legs open with my foot. “Spread ’em, ma’am.”
She giggles, but complies, so her panties are stretched taut at her knees. “I hope you have a warrant for this illegal search, Detective.”
“I don’t need a warrant, Miss Cookie. You’re mine now. And I’ll search you whenever I want.” My fingertips lightly trace her inner thigh as I bend down. She shivers and arches her back, sucking in a breath at my soft touch. “I think you might be hiding something.”
She giggles again as I kiss that little dent behind her knee and make my way up the back of her leg. “Where could I possibly—Oh,” she sighs, when I nip her ass cheek.
“Yeah, ‘oh’ is right,” I mumble, inhaling her sweet scent as I place both hands on her ass and begin to lick between her legs. She trembles when my finger finds her clit and begins to stroke.
“My God,” she says, her breath coming quicker. “I’m ready to confess.”
“You’re not getting off that easy, you little trollop.” Her laugh is loud. And happy. And holy fuck, she makes me so damn happy back. “I know you won’t tell me the truth unless I ease it out of you. So maybe I need to ease something into you”—I insert a finger into her pussy, searching for the trigger to make her crazy with lust—“to get your full attention.”
“Pax,” she moans.
“That’s Detective Pax to you.”
“Detective—” But she can’t finish because my tongue is swirling around the rim of her perfect little puckered asshole. Her arms go above her head on the desk and she stretches forward, giving me more access. “I want to come right now. All over your face.”
I stand up and smack her ass, leaving a perfect red handprint on her right cheek. “Not yet, my pretty little cookie. I’m just getting started. Dessert can come later. Much later.”
I pull her up and quickly spin her around, her big blue eyes wide with surprise, and want, and everything that makes a man happy when he’s with a woman. I lift her shirt up, find a sweet, pale-pink bra under that graphic tee, and lick my lips as I study the way her breasts practically spill out around the white eyelet lace.
“I’m gonna have my cake and eat it too, Sugar. They say it can’t be done, but it’s happening. Right now.” I push her so she is forced to lie back on the cold, hard surface of the desk. Her chest is rising and falling with the anticipation of what’s coming. God, she is so damn hot. “I missed you,” I say impulsively. “Did you miss me? Or was it easy to move on and forget?”
“Detective,” she whispers. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were smitten with me.”
“You have been the only thing on my mind for weeks. Call it whatever you want,” I say, looking down and noticing that her panties have dropped to her ankles. I reach down, tug them around her boot, and then put them in my trench coat pocket for later. She gives me a knowing smirk, but I don’t care. I kick her legs open again, then reach down, grab under her knees, and hike them up to her chest.
Her eyes track mine as I lower myself in front of her open pussy. She’s glistening with readiness, but I’m just getting started.
One sweep of my tongue is all it takes to make her moan. “If you make me squirt on this desk—”
I laugh loudly just picturing it. “Miss Cookie, if I make you squirt all over Nolan Delaney’s desk, my life will be complete. I will hold that over his head for decades to come. Pun intended.”
She laughs, reaching for the collar of my coat, pulling my face to hers before I can object.
The kiss is sweet. Her full lips taste like strawberries. Our tongues dance together like we’ve been practicing these moves for a lifetime. Her hands are in my hair, on my face, then her fingernails dig into my arms. “You have too many clothes on. I want to feel your skin. Take off that ridiculous coat.”
“Are you ordering me around?” I laugh into her mouth as I kiss her again.
“Please,” she begs. “Take it off.”
I stand up, shrug the coat off, and then slip my t-shirt over my head. She stares at my chest before lowering her gaze, eyes lingering on the precise muscles of my stomach. She flattens both palms onto my skin as heat creeps into my body.
“You’re beautiful,” she says. “You know that?”
I shake my head. Very slowly. “You’re lookin’ in the mirror, Sugar. It’s not me you’re seein’.”
She bites her lip, eyes bright with mischief. “And sweet too.”
“I’m not the one covered in sprinkles, Miss Cookie.”
“I’m going to marry you, ya know.”
I lean down and take her face in my hands, fingertips brushing small circles against her cheeks as I stare into her blue eyes. “And have my babies?” I ask. “Little baby sugar cookies?”
“Maybe little baby brownies,” she whispers. And then she frowns. Deeply. And whispers, “Don’t leave me like that again. I was so sad.”
Oh, God. I am sad too, just thinking about it. “I’m really sorry I did that. I was just busy, Cindy. And it was confusing and being hired to kill a friend is kinda fucked up.”
“I would’ve helped you.”
“No,” I say. “I mean,
I know you’re capable. But no. I don’t want you involved in any of this.”
“I’m already—”
“Shhh,” I whisper, kissing her mouth to stop this conversation. “Later. We have forever to talk about this. But right now all I want to do is enjoy everything about you.” Before your brother gets here and we have to duke it out, I don’t add.
She sees—or maybe senses—what I’m thinking and frowns again. It makes creases in her forehead as her little nose scrunches up. But she doesn’t push it. Instead, she reaches down and begin unbuckling my belt. She says, “I want to take off your pants.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Cindy
My fingers fumble with nervousness. I suddenly am shaking, unable to control my body’s reactions to everything that has happened over the past several weeks.
“Cindy,” Pax says, his hands taking over for the task I am seemingly unable to complete. His belt opens, the buckle jingling as he guides my fingertips to the button on his jeans. I manage that, the rapid beating of my heart still making me uneasy, and then drag the zipper down.
Pax is eager and ready for me, pulling his hard dick from his boxer briefs and pumping himself a few times before once again guiding my hand to where it should automatically be.
I gaze up at him, expecting him to ask questions. But his eyes are half-mast and filled with desire. “You really are beautiful,” I say. The part of me in the moment is unable to deny what I feel when I look at his face or his body. “I really do love you.”
“I really do love you back. I don’t care what Oliver says about this. It’s real. And it’s ours, not his. He has no say in anything.” His smile resets the uneven beating of my heart, and just as suddenly as it came, my anxiety passes. The thumpety-thump is normalized to just plain old thump-thump. “I wanna be with you. Not just today, but forever. I wanna wake up every morning thinking about the moment we will fall asleep together that night. I want to drink mint juleps with you, and margaritas, and start a new life that has nothing to do with the past. I want all of that. But right now I just wanna watch you, Cindy. Suck my cock, take it down your throat, swallow me. And then I’m gonna fuck you until you scream.”
I am nothing but heat. My whole body floods with warmth. My pussy is wet and throbbing for him. Ready to forget, if just for a moment, what’s really happening here.
I deserve this moment. I really do.
So I grab his biceps and sit up. I place both palms flat on his chest and push, just slightly. Just enough to make him take one step back and give me room to sink to my knees between him and the desk.
When I look up I’m the one who’s smiling now. “Are you ready to pick up where we left off?”
“So fucking ready.”
I open my mouth. He lets out a long breath of anticipation and slowly pumps his thick cock up and down as my tongue reaches for his tip. I lick. Once. Twice. My eyes trained on his as they close. His hands are on my head, fingertips tracing down my long braids as I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck. He fists my braids, opens his lust-filled eyes for a moment, then slowly urges me to take him deeper.
I open as wide as I can, taking him the way he wants. Letting him fill me up until I can’t take any more and begin to gag.
“Breathe,” Pax says, encouraging me.
I do. I breathe through it, placing my hands flat on his thighs so I can push him away if it gets to be too much. But just as I do that, he lets got of my head and places his hands on top of mine, slowly moving his hips back and forth as he guides my fingers to his balls.
If I didn’t have his cock in my mouth, I’d smile. Instead, I chuckle, the vibrations of my vocal cords hitting him in just the right way, because he moans and his hands resume their position on my head. Urging. More and more urging to take him in as far as I can.
Drool starts slipping past my lips, dripping down onto my right knee, and it only makes me want to try harder.
“Mmmm,” I murmur around his hot flesh.
Pax reaches down and twists my nipple, making me groan with surprise at the acute twinge of pain. I draw back out of instinct, but his hips follow me, keeping us connected. “Stop me,” he says. “Stop me if you don’t like it. But I like it.”
I look up at him and find a genuine look of concern on his face. My head moves forward, taking him deeper. One hand still fondling his balls as the other slides his pants down farther so I can play with his asshole.
“Fuck,” he says, throwing his head back. “Fuck. Cindy—”
I know he likes it. I know he wants more. I know he wants it to be dirty, and sweaty, and sticky.
I want that too. So I pull back, then thrust forward. I let the tip of his dick bump up against the back of my throat. I welcome the gag reflex. I welcome the drool spilling out of my mouth. I do it again, and again, and again until he is gripping my head too tight, so my scalp begins to tingle.
The last thrust forward ends with me pulling all the way back until his long, hard cock falls out of my mouth.
Pax opens his eyes, but I hold up one finger and say, “Just be patient.”
And then I get underneath him. His huge balls dangle in front of my face and my tongue flicks out, reaching for them. Flicking against them until my hand grabs hold and I open my mouth wider and suck them.
“I’m gonna come,” he says. “I’m gonna come down your throat.”
And I’m gonna help him do that.
My mouth goes searching for his cock again. I take him in all at once this time. My head bobbing back and forth, the drool coating my chin, falling onto my breasts as my finger is still tracing the outline of his asshole.
He grips my hair tighter—if that’s possible—and the salty taste of semen fills my mouth, then my throat.
I swallow all of it as he thrusts his hips at my face. And when the wave of contractions slows to almost nothing, I pull back and look up to meet his gaze when I lick my lips.
“Your turn now,” he says.
A moment later he’s pulled me to standing and he’s walking me around the side of the desk where the large executive chair is waiting. He sits, holding my hand, and then points to his lap.
“I want to smack that ass, Cindy Shrike. Not because you’re bad. Just because I like it.”
“Ummm…”
“Lie across my knee, Cindy.” His eyes are still heavy from the orgasm but his voice is clear and commanding.
“You want to spank me?” I ask through a smile.
“Turn that fucking ass red.” He pauses. “You’ll enjoy it, I promise.” Then he pats his knee with one hand and encircles my waist with the other. “Right here, Sugar.”
I stumble forward, kinda turned on. Kinda turned off. Not sure what this means or why he likes it. But I bend over so my hips are centered on his lap, and let my head and legs dangle over the side of the chair.
“You’re doubting me, aren’t you?”
“I just don’t get it. But proceed, Detective. Perhaps you know something I don’t.”
He leans forward so his mouth is close enough to my ear to hear him whisper, “I know all the ways, all the things, all the secrets, Cinderella.” His hand slides my skirt up and the cool air from the AC hits my bare ass. “So don’t rush to judgment.” The light pressure of his fingertips tracing a line down the crease of my ass and into the heat between my legs makes me suck in a breath.
“Keep going?” he asks. I can practically hear him smile.
I swallow. “Yes. Keep going.”
He withdraws his hand from between my legs and I’m immediately wishing for him to do it again. But instead of going right for my most sensitive parts, his palm glides across the round curve of my cheeks, barely skimming the small opening between my thighs.
“You’re going to tease me?” I ask.
No answer from Mr. Mysterious. Just another light pass of his hand across the place where my legs meet my ass. Then another, and another. Until I’m relaxed, my eyes closed, enjoying the sensation. And I can feel his cock
underneath me growing bigger, and getting thicker with each passing moment.
I hear the crack of his hand before I even realize the pain. My back bucks a little, making me wobble on his lap. “Damn, Paxton.”
“Shhh,” he says, continuing with his light touches. My ass is heating up and the kink has barely started. This time his fingertips dip just a little deeper into that space between my legs and once he even bumps up against my clit.
I bite my lip and wish for more when he doesn’t do it again.
“Do you like it?”
“You’re teasing me.”
“It’s a good tease though, right?” And just as the last word is out of his mouth, that flick of his finger on my pussy as his hand passes over my cheeks.
“Yes,” I say. Another crack echoes off the tall ceilings of the office. And then another. “Ow!”
But again, his fingertips are there on my clit. A small, barely detectible tickle that has me squirming.
“Hold still,” he says, another smack landing hard. And I’m just about to sit up and smack him back when his palm flattens out over the stinging heat radiating across my bottom. “I’m not letting you get away, Cinderella. Someone has to learn who’s in charge here.”
“Who’s in—Ow! Jesus fucking Christ, Mysterious! What the hell?”
“I told you stay put, didn’t I?”
“Paxton, you said you wanted to do this because it was—Ow!”
“Fun?” he asks. “It is fun. But when I tell you to stay put, Miss Cookie, I need to know you’ll stay put. Otherwise how do I know you’re safe?”
I turn my body just enough to look up at him. “You are punishing me?”
His fingers are tracing that pattern along my legs again. Teasing. Again. Because nothing even remotely comes close to touching my pussy this time. “I’m not punishing you. This feels too good to be punishment. I’m just showing you that you can trust me. So the next time I want you to do something that will keep you safe, you’ll do it without question.”
“That’s not fair,” I say. “You’re the one who left and didn’t send a message.”