by Gigi Black
“Just this weekend?”
“No strings attached.”
Tempting. An entire weekend of burying myself inside her, relishing her moans and then her screams, wallowing in the pleasure and the silken heat of her pussy. What more could a man want?
And after? We would talk and eat and spend time together, get to know each other again. Dangerous. Back up.
But Hazel dropped to her knees in front of me, took my dick in her mouth, and sucked away my fears.
Her tongued lashed my mushroom tip, and I gripped her head, twining my fingers through her hair and slowly fucking her mouth, stopping when she gagged.
Hazel squirmed, looking up at me with those bright green eyes, dazed with desire.
The image of my wet cock sliding in and out of her mouth, her red lips moving against my skin, was almost too much.
I stepped back, and she popped free with an audible smack and a regretful moan. “Up.” I lifted her by the elbows, then tore the silk blouse from her breasts. She wore a lacy bra underneath, her nipples hard enough to cut diamond. I tugged the cups down, bent and feasted on her breasts, unzipping her skirt one-handed.
“I need more.” Her red lipstick had smeared across her cheek, and it was the sexiest damn thing I’d ever seen. I had smeared it with my cock.
Hazel. Memories of our time years ago, the afternoons spent talking to her, the first time we’d kissed, the sweetness of that initial romance, streamed back, and I got down in front of her, dragging her skirt down but leaving her thong up.
I sucked on that cotton, drawing out her juices and tasting her. I growled and forced her thighs open. She backed up, nearly fell, then sat heavily on the floor.
My chance. I pushed her back so she was flat on the floor, then slipped a thumb under the strap of her thong and pulled. It broke. I did the same on the other side then tossed the ruined fabric to one side and placed my hands on her thighs.
Her pussy shimmered, inviting me to punish it with another orgasm.
“Damien. I want you inside me.”
“You’re coming again first.”
She bit down on her lip and arched her back, pressing that delicious mound of flesh toward me.
I sucked her clit into my mouth, and Hazel damn near lost her mind. She let out a shriek, she pounded her fists on the floor, and she rocked against my face, working herself to a climax in two minutes flat.
Her pussy throbbed, pulsed, came for me again, and it was time.
I grabbed a condom out of my pants pocket, tore it open and applied it, regretting that I couldn’t do this to her bareback.
“I’m on the pill,” she said, suddenly. “You can… you know.”
“Clean?” I asked. “When last were you tested?”
“I was tested after… my last relationship. You?”
“Same.”
Her eyes widened, and her tongue crept out, licking her bottom lip. “We can do it.”
My cock throbbed so hard the condom split along one side. I laughed. “Guess we have to now.” I peeled the condom off and tossed it aside then lowered myself on top of her. “Legs around me.”
Hazel did as she was told. “Inside, please. Quick. I want it.”
“You need it,” I said, sucking her bottom lip into my mouth. “You always have.”
“Yes.”
That agreement was exactly what I wanted to hear.
I entered her and clung to sanity. She was so fucking wet, warm, and swollen, and she slung her arms around my neck, and we kissed again. I thrust slowly at first, bringing our furious pace down to a slow burn that spread between us.
Our eyes met, and I pressed my forehead to hers, losing track of thought and time. That was what it was like with Hazel. She became the sole focus, a point of light in the dark, and if I wasn’t careful, I’d fall into the trap of wanting her and nothing but her because of it.
I turned her onto her stomach and took her from behind, roughly this time, lifting her ass so she could reach her clit and give herself yet another orgasm, but her fingers shook, and her body shuddered, and she couldn’t stand much more.
“Damien,” she whispered, from a place of throaty, deep satisfaction. She wasn’t calling out to me, just identifying what she’d been missing for years.
“You’re mine, now,” I said, throwing my head back, my hands balling into fists, my forearms braced on the floor.
I brought her onto her side, wrapped my arms around her, and buried my face in her neck, positioning myself for the final few thrusts. The scent of her clogged my nostrils and whited out my brain, and I came inside her throbbing, pressing into her warmth and giving her everything I had.
After, she settled into my arms, her breathing slow, and her eyes drifting closed. I buried my nose in her hair, inhaling the coconut smell, and dropped off the face of the planet with her.
20
Hazel
So, falling asleep on a hardwood floor wasn’t the brightest idea I’d had in recent memory. Then again, neither was agreeing to a weekend of no-strings-attached sex with a man who made my entire earth shake whenever he touched me.
I’d always been the shy girl, nerdy even, and that persona had evaporated around Damien. He brought out my inner sex demon.
Was that a good thing? Demon was the operative word here, so probably not.
I sat up slowly, disentangling myself from Damien’s strong arms, and stretched my neck. Yeah, that kink wasn’t coming out anytime soon.
“What time is it?” I murmured to myself.
Damien’s palm settled on my back, and his thumb traced my spine. The stroking gave me shivers. “I think you mean, what year is it?”
“We kinda dropped off the face of the planet there, didn’t we?”
“Pretty much,” he replied and brought himself into a sitting position. He wrapped his arms around my body, warming me against his muscular chest, and peppered my neck with kisses. “I’d like to remind you that you started it.”
The kisses were a little too romantic. A little too sweet. I jumped up and grabbed my blouse off the floor.
“Freaking out again, I see.”
I slued toward him, holding my silken blouse to my breasts. “I’m not freaking out.”
“You’re totally freaking out. Your eyes are bugging out.”
“My eyes are fine.” But I blinked several times just in case he was right. “This is just… it’s not me.”
“What?”
“One-night stands. Flings. Whatever. It’s not my thing.”
“You prefer to live in a sex desert, then?”
“No,” I said and searched around for my underwear. Of course, he’d ripped them off me. “No,” I repeated, and grabbed my skirt instead. “I get plenty.” Lies.
“Plenty of sleep?”
“I will slap you if you keep kidding around.” I pointed my skirt at him. “At least, verbally. I’m anti-violence.”
“And I’m anti-you getting dressed. Come lie on the bed with me.” Damien stood up and revealed his thick cock, already glistening at the tip for me.
“You’re a monster.”
“I’m attracted to you.” He placed his fists on his hip and thrust his pelvis forward, offering me one of his shit-eating grins. His dick throbbed for effect, bouncing up and down. “See?”
I chewed on my bottom lip, clutching my crumpled skirt and blouse to my body, and studying him in all his glory.
Later afternoon light seeped through the curtains, a shaded orange that warmed the room and cast shadows on the contours of his muscles, his neck, one side of his face. His abs shimmered like he’d been doused in oil, and the tattoos that arced over one shoulder and down his arm drew my gaze.
What was it with me and bad boys? Or just this bad boy in particular.
My one and only ex had been as much of a bad boy as a soccer mom.
“I hope you’re not leaving,” Damien said. “We don’t have to fuck.”
“No, no, we’re not going to fuck. There has to b
e some control to this weekend. I mean, how can I do this when you… you’re paying me. What does that make me?” I dropped my skirt again, opting to pull on my blouse. I buttoned myself up, and Damien’s cock wilted ever so slightly. The skirt came on next, and a corresponding nod from his dick followed.
“It makes you human,” he said. “And mine.”
“Ew.”
“Not like that. Not like hooker-mine. Just in general, mine. Mine for the weekend,” Damien said and strutted toward me. He cupped my cheek in a hand. “You forget that this agreement is for thirty days. A month. What’s one weekend in the grand scheme of things?”
“Whorey?”
“Inconsequential.”
Like I had been to him. Inconsequential. Damien’s apology had helped me get over my latent anger toward him, but I was still wary. I wasn’t a dumbass. The man could get any woman he wanted, whenever he wanted, and I was just an option.
Did that mean I wasn’t going to fuck him until I was sore? No, that was definitely happening, but it was just because I wanted to prove that I could have Damien and then… well, I could walk away from him.
And, god damn, he was good at it.
“Don’t leave,” he said. “We don’t have to fuck. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can eat.”
My interest was piqued. Curse me for being a foodie. “Eat. Eat what? And don’t say pussy.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Damien’s lip quirked upward at the corner. “Actually, that’s a lie. I frequently daydream about eating you out. It’s somewhat of a fantasy of mine.”
“I can tell.” He’d eaten me out twice now, and each time was more mind-blowing than the last. “Seriously, though, food?”
“Food.” He strode to the bedside table and picked up the phone then hit a button. “What do you want?”
“What do I want?”
“Decisions, decisions. Come on, Haze, make one. Christmas is coming.”
I stuck out my tongue at him. “It’s difficult to think when you’re wearing…”
Damien chuckled and turned around, presenting me with his muscular ass. “Better?”
“Marginally.”
“Yeah, hi,” he said, into the phone. “I’d like to order room service.”
“Burgers and fries,” I replied. “Oh no, uh, sushi! Wait, um… what about cheesecake?”
“Give me, two cheeseburgers and fries, large plate, yeah, and then some sushi. And a cheesecake.” Damien covered the received. “Fridge or baked?”
“Fridge! No, baked!”
“One fridge cheesecake and one baked cheesecake,” he said.
My stomach did pirouettes. “Damien, that’s too much.”
“And Veuve Cliquot.” He hung up then fetched his pants from the corner of the room where we’d discarded them earlier and tugged them on.
“That’s way too much food.”
“As with money, there can never be too much food.”
“You sound like Marie Antoinette. Let them eat cake,” I parroted.
“Except I have a massive cock,” he replied.
I choked on saliva, even though there was no good reason or it. I’d already had him inside me in several different ways, and his lower half was finally clothed. Damien sauntered over and took my hands. He lifted one and kissed the inside of my wrist. “You smell like sex and perfume. I love it.”
Whoops. Love and Damien? Does not compute.
“So, what, we’re just going to eat our bodyweight in food and then what?”
“Then we’ll have enough fuel for rounds two through five. We’ll eat again before rounds six through ten.”
“Ambitious.”
“Realistic.” He kissed me, sending another wave of heat searing through my stomach, and I leaned into him.
If this is whoring, then I don’t want to be right. Wait, no, that doesn’t make sense. But the thoughts were washed away by the kiss and the smell of his cologne, and how tall he was, towering over me, and how tiny I felt in his arms.
The kiss went on for ages, until we were on the bed, and his fingers were between my legs again, and I was aching, dripping, crying out for him, and—
A knock at the door brought me back with a polite bump. I pushed myself upright and ran hasty fingers through my hair. “The room service.”
“Damn, should’ve put the ‘do not disturb’ thing on the door.” Damien got up, sporting a massive erection, and grabbed his jacket. He put it on, buttoned it to hide his boner, then went to open the door.
“Is this the new fashion?” Seth leaned against the doorjamb, arms folded, biceps pronounced even under his suit. “Because I’m not feeling it, brother. No shirt? I can see your nipples.”
“What?” Damien looked down at his chest. “Fucker. No, you can’t.”
“Made you look.”
“What do you want, twelve-year-old?” Damien asked. “I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
Seth’s cool blue gaze, still degrees warmer than his father’s, found me. He offered me a smile that wasn’t cocky, but it made me squirm, regardless. The Woods men clearly knew their power and just how to use it. “I see. That explains the fragrance you’ve got going on.”
I made a choked noise in my throat.
“He’s kidding,” Damien said. “The room smells fine.”
“Can we please stop talking about it?” I asked.
Seth laughed, a rumble that was slightly higher pitched than his brother’s. “You’re going to have to get used to our special brand of humor, Hazel. You can’t join the Woods family without giving as good as you get.”
“Oh, trust me, she gives as good as she gets,” Damien growled.
“Ew!” I threw a pillow at him and he caught it, the bastard.
“Is there a reason for your visit?” Damien turned to Seth. “Don’t get me wrong, bro, always happy to see you, but I’m sensing this is less social and more ‘oh fuck, help me, our father is being a prick again.’ Am I inching toward the truth with that statement?”
“Right on the money.” Seth swaggered into the room and eyed the torn piece of cloth that had once been my underwear. He dismissed it and seated himself in one of the comfy, jacquard armchairs around the glass coffee table. “Father is putting pressure on me, thanks to your stunt at lunch.”
“It wasn’t a stunt.” Damien opened the curtains, bringing a view of the sky, slowly bruising from orange to purple along the horizon. A golf course spread below the window, the last of the golfers for the day heading back to the clubhouse in their carts, like snails migrating in lazy circles up a wall.
“Well, it certainly didn’t impress him.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I replied.
“He wants you to go golfing with him tomorrow.”
“And he couldn’t tell me this himself? He had to send you?” Damien asked, his teeth gritted, now.
“He didn’t send me. He strongly suggested I tell you. Look, Damien, I know you and the old man don’t see eye-to-eye, but this is my ass on the line too. If you don’t become Daddy’s little CEO, I have to drop everything to come here and do it. Neither of us wants that. You don’t want to get disowned either.”
Damien walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and leaned his forearm against it, staring out at the course. “You could not do what he wants.”
“Then I get disowned instead. The last thing I need is Dad making my life hell. He knows everyone, everywhere. The big wigs at the airlines too.” That last part was for my benefit.
Damien was quiet for a few minutes, still as a Grecian statue chiseled from marble. “If he keeps a civil tongue in his head with Hazel, we’ll go.”
Seth shifted. “Are you comfortable with that?” he asked me.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to help Damien,” I said, perhaps skirting a little too close to the truth. Seth didn’t know this was a fake deal or that I was being paid for it. “A round of golf sounds like it’ll be fun. The course is pretty.”
“Except we’re not going to be playing out there,” Damien said. “We’ll be in hell. Screaming souls, the works.”
“Melodramatic.” Seth got up, straightening his suit jacket. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He paused before exiting, casting a sneaky smile over his shoulder. “I’d pick up those panties before room service gets to them, if I were you.”
21
Damien
The next morning…
Spending the day pottering around on a fucking golf course with Mortimer was about as appetizing as a lava enema. Having Hazel with me made things a smidge less unpleasant—she’d dressed in a cute white skirt, a preppy collared shirt, and tennis shoes, her caramel hair up in a high ponytail. No makeup save for a splash of mascara.
Gorgeous. Perfect. Dangerous as fuck.
I liked her dressed down, dressed up, and in nothing. I just liked her.
I placed my hand in the small of her back and guided her toward the golf clubhouse, where all the old dudes would hang around after a few rounds and tell fishing stories. Most of them weren’t even related to fish—who bagged the biggest deal, whose wife had signed the tightest pre-nup, whose mistress was the hottest. The kind of bullshit that turned the brain to mush.
“You OK?” Hazel asked, leaning into me so that her arm brushed my side. She’d woken up worrying about her father, but her mood had lightened significantly after she’d given him a quick call.
“If you’re not careful, I’m going to take you to the bathroom and have my way with you,” I said, pressing my nose into her hair and inhaling.
“Didn’t you get enough this morning?” Hazel’s smile was in her voice.
I squeezed her closer and pressed a kiss to her temple, allowing myself a moment of weakness. Of emotion. Besides, I could pass the affection off as part of the act. We were in public, and engaged couples were supposed to be nauseatingly all over each other.
“You’d better get as much as you can before the weekend ends,” I said, into her ear.
Hazel stepped away from me, turning and walking backward so she could spear me with a glare. “I’m the one who suggested that in the first place. Do you think I’m going to forget?”