by Lexie Ray
“Wow, so this is it,” I said, taking the packet and weighing it in my hands. “My ticket out of being a stripper.” I was happy to be past the point where I had to feel sensitive about my temporary line of work.
“I can go over it with you, if you want,” Liam said, leaning closer to flip to different pages. He was talking to me, telling me about the job I had said I was going to do, but I couldn’t help smelling the cloying fragrance of his cologne, thrilling at his closeness, and jumping at the way his fingers brushed against mine as we both held the packet.
I couldn’t stop myself. I tipped my head up and kissed his jaw. Liam stopped talking.
“I’m sorry!” I cried. “I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me — you smell really good, and I’m excited, and I had a great time tonight. Please don’t be mad.”
“This isn’t behavior befitting of a personal assistant,” Liam said, taking the sheaf of papers from my hand and letting them drop to the floor.
I thought I had screwed up until he tangled his hands in my hair and kissed me. My eyes fluttered shut as our tongues clashed. I could still taste the tiramisu in his mouth.
Liam broke the kiss, panting. “I’ve wanted to do that since I followed you across town this morning,” he said.
“That wouldn’t be behavior befitting Mr. Millionaire, not in the light of day,” I said, parroting his words.
He grabbed my ass, and I leapt up, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“It was this ass that did it,” he growled, fondling it roughly. “Watching it sway all the way to your apartment.
“I did that on purpose,” I said, smiling against his mouth before kissing him again.
I didn’t realize we had moved to the bedroom until he deposited me on the bed with a bounce.
“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice hoarse with desire.
I hadn’t thought I’d ever want sex as badly as I wanted it at that moment. It was something of a relief to know that working at Mama’s nightclub hadn’t ruined me for life. I had worried about it several times.
Nodding, I spread my legs for him, knowing what it looked like for my dress to ride up to my waist, for a tiny triangle of fabric to separate him from what he wanted.
“I want you now,” I said, my heart beating hard. “Right now.”
All he could manage to do was unzip his pants and push my underwear aside before plunging in. I was so wet. I arched my back and cried out, throwing my arms around his neck as his prodigious cock stretched me to my limits.
“You’re so big,” I whimpered.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, stilling. “I never want to hurt you.”
“You’re not hurting,” I said, smiling and stroking his hair. “I want this. Fuck me, Mr. Millionaire. Give it to me.”
He started thrusting again, my body already adapted to his girth. So many of the men at Mama’s nightclub who paid for the privilege of my body weren’t hung worth a damn. Liam was a welcome, incredible change. He stretched me, challenged me, and gave me unimaginable pleasure. Each of his thrusts struck a chord deep inside my body, finding my elusive G-spot with no effort whatsoever.
We panted together, two bodies desperate for pleasure, and thrilling at finding it again.
He grabbed me, holding me close, his thrusts even more frenzied. It was a sensory overload to feel so protected and so pleasured at the same time. I couldn’t hang on a second longer, shrieking as I climaxed. Liam smothered his own moans in the crook of my neck, both of us riding out our releases together. It was so strange — I felt vulnerable, scared, excited, and much more. Emotions wheeled through my mind, and I couldn’t settle on just one.
Liam pulled out of me, and I thought it was over. It was a good ride while it lasted I decided, determined not to feel bad or guilty about it.
He surprised me by stripping off his clothes and helping me out of my dress and underwear.
“Now that we have that out of the way, let me make love with you,” Liam said. Desire bloomed inside of me as he knelt between my legs, licking and sucking at my pussy even as his own cum seeped out of me. I was breathless again as he worked me over, tonguing my clitoris again and again. No man had ever done this for me, not in this manner. I knew he was something special, willing to brave something most men ran away from just to give me pleasure.
“Please,” I breathed. “It’s torture. I need you inside of me.”
“All I needed to hear,” Liam said, smiling before entering me. His cock was steely hard again, and filled me up. I moaned as much at the pleasure as I did at the strange feeling of being whole. His cock had been outside of me for all of fifteen minutes. Had I really missed it that much?
Liam struck up a more leisurely pace, taking the time to massage my breasts and kiss my dark nipples. His tongue made little bolts of electricity shoot straight through to my brain, making the whole experience even more sensual. We kissed; our tongues explored each other’s mouths as if we were just getting to know each other. In a way, we were. His kisses were powerful but tender, giving me insight into the man I had taken inside of myself. He may have put on a big front with me, but his core was caring and wonderful. His kisses only made me want to get to know him better. It also helped that they turned me on so thoroughly.
The next orgasm was just as fulfilling as the first, but less desperate. This one already understood what it needed to be. I was no less quiet as I moaned out my release, tightening my inner muscles around Liam’s still-pumping cock.
“You’re making me come,” he gasped out, gritting his teeth against the coming flood.
“I want you to,” I sobbed, still in the throes of my own climax.
Liam let go of the life preserver and let himself get swept away by the deluge. I enjoyed being there for it, his face a picture of supreme pleasure. At Mama’s nightclub, giving a man an orgasm meant getting paid. Now, seeing Liam’s orgasm, I felt more rewarded than I ever had. I wanted to make him feel good as much as I wanted to feel good myself. I’d never felt like that with anyone.It made me feel a suspicious warmth inside of myself that I couldn’t dismiss as arousal.
I really liked him.
“So, couple of things,” Liam said, still sounding out of breath as we rested in a tangled heap of limbs. “I don’t think it’s professional to be having sex with my personal assistant.”
“I haven’t signed any papers yet,” I said. “I’m not your personal assistant yet.”
“I’m glad for that,” he said. “I want to continue having sex with you. All the time. At every moment.”
“I’m happy we’re on the same page,” I said, smiling.
He kissed me possessively and passionately. A boiling in my lower stomach told me that I was more than ready to go again. I reached down and discovered that he’d been ready for a long time.
“Can I ask you something?” Liam asked, grabbing the hand that had been caressing his cock.
“Anything.”
“Please don’t strip anymore,” he said. “You’re too good for that world. You’re too beautiful.”
I blushed heavily, hoping he didn’t see it. “I have to work, Liam.”
“I’ll help you find something else,” he said. “Anything. You’re friendly and gorgeous. You’d be a shoo-in anywhere you applied.”
“I have something I’d like to shoo in,” I said, pumping his cock up and down, smiling. I loved the way that we were so physically compatible. It also kind of blew my mind how we played off of each other in conversation and personalities so well.
His smile and the way his hands swept lazily up and down my side made me melt inside. I straddled him and drew him inside my body again. I couldn’t resist the way I felt about him.
Liam gasped and we shared our feelings with each other simply, in the way I rolled my hips to accommodate his length, the way he thrust upward into me, our little sighs of pleasure, the way our breath caught in our throats.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he ch
oked out, sweat beading on his face, putting his hands on my hips to still my movements suddenly. “I don’t know if it’s too soon — I’ve been hurting so bad after my fiancée cheated on me.”
I was surprised that he was being so open with me. It had seemed like a very sore topic just earlier today.
“We broke it off about a year ago,” Liam continued. It was difficult to concentrate on his words when he was sheathed inside my body, but I tried. I felt like he was trying to tell me something important.
“I was certain that I’d never be with anyone again — physically or emotionally,” he finished.
Well, I was fulfilling a physical need right now. But did I understand him? Did I fill an emotional hole inside of him?
Did he have feelings for me?
“That’s the thing,” I said, leaning down to kiss his forehead and stifling a moan as his cock shifted its angle inside my body. “You have to be brave enough to love again. You have to be brave enough to love at all.”
We made love for the third time that night, reveling in the comfort we took in each other. I drew my body up and down his shaft, our sweat mingling, our mouths unable to stop kissing each other. He let me be on top for as long as he could apparently stand it before flipping us over, taking charge of the pace.
Liam drew one of my legs up straight, putting it against his shoulder, plowing into me with that majestic dick of his.
“I want to be as deep inside you as I can be,” he said, brushing my forehead lightly with the back of his hand.
“I want all of you,” I answered breathlessly. “All of you.”
The angle of our lovemaking accommodated even more of his length inside my body. It was the most fulfilling — in many different ways — sex session I’d ever experienced. He stroked places inside of me that most men never even knew existed. And the fact that I had feelings for him — and suspected he might have feelings of his own for me — made the sex even more special.
When I came, he came with me, our moans a harmony in my ears. When we drifted off into slumber, we did it together, our bodies still joined as one.
Chapter 7
How did life get so good?
I had been so certain that I would never want to have sex again after being paid to do so at Mama’s nightclub. Now, that’s all I wanted to do. Liam was my drug and I was addicted.
It gave us even easier access to each other once he asked me to move in with him after a few months of seeing each other. I definitely wanted to be with him all the time at that point, but it still made me sad to leave Casey.
“Don’t feel sad,” she said. “I’m just happy that you’re happy. Get that sex, girl! And tell me about it — don’t forget about that cell phone!”
I left that happy apartment laughing and in a lot better shape than I entered it. I knew that I had Casey to thank for the bulk of my recovery.
And for the rest, like opening my heart again to the possibility of a relationship, I had Liam to thank.
We couldn’t get enough of each other. We made love in the morning, before either of us got out of bed. If he couldn’t hold out for the rest of the day, I’d find him back in the penthouse during his lunch break. We’d have a quickie, then we’d share a sandwich or wrap for lunch. We’d go out for dinner every night, even if I told him I could whip something up. And sex before bed, always. He said it made him sleep soundly.
It had a different effect on me. I started dreaming again. I hadn’t experienced anything but deep, imageless slumber ever since I’d been raped as a youngster. Now, I had lush dreamscapes full of bright colors, strange but delightful sights, and the feeling when I woke up that I’d been spending my time somewhere magical again.
Liam had brought my dreams back to me.
Still, I felt his absence when he wasn’t in the penthouse. I fidgeted, pacing the rooms, looking out the windows, and feeling like there was something I needed to be doing. Strangely enough, I complained when he told me to stop doing chores.
“You’re my girlfriend, not my cook,” he said. “And stop cleaning the house. There’s someone else to do that.”
“I just feel bad,” I said. “I need to have something to do, you know. You work all day. What should I be doing when I’m not with you?”
“Thinking about me,” Liam said, grinning because he knew it was an outrageous suggestion.
“I need to get a job, Mr. Millionaire,” I said. “That’s what needs to happen.”
“But you don’t need the money,” he countered. “I want to take care of everything you ever need.”
This made me pause. I knew that he didn’t want me spending any money, but this was a new shift in tone — anything I ever need. I never dared to hope for anything, but Liam made me hope for him — hope for a future with him.
“Here’s an idea,” he said, distracting me from my thoughts. “How about you volunteer somewhere? You could spend your time doing something rewarding while helping people who need it.”
“Is that why you make the big money?” I asked, leaning into his arms. “Because you have the big ideas?”
“Because I have the big dick,” he purred, kissing my forehead and leading me to the bedroom.
Neither of us could get enough sex, it felt like. I was sometimes scared about it. But the climaxes were so powerful and so fulfilling — and something I had missed out on for so long — that sex became almost like breathing. Even if we were out to dinner or doing something non-sexual, we always had to be touching each other — my hand on his knee while he was driving, his foot against mine while we were at a restaurant.
However, I couldn’t live on sex alone. I started volunteering my days at a center for the elderly. There, I read to the residents, played games with them, and just kept them company. More often than not, I listened as they told me about their lives. I helped the employees there deliver meals and feed those who couldn’t manage to do so themselves.
“You’re becoming pretty serious about volunteering at that senior center,” Liam observed as I got ready to leave the penthouse at the same time as him.
“They love having someone to visit with,” I said. “Plus, it’s fun.”
“That’s the most important thing,” he said, kissing me goodbye for the day.
The elderly residents became my friends. I found that I looked forward to seeing them each morning as much as they did to see me.
One morning was different. There was an almost visible ripple of energy in the air.
“What’s going on?” I asked the wheelies, as they called themselves — the residents in wheelchairs who rolled themselves to the entrance to greet me every day. “Is it bingo day already? I thought we already had it this week.”
“Better than bingo,” one sweet old woman promised, grabbing my hand and shaking it.
“I don’t know that there’s anything better than bingo,” I said. The residents sure were serious about that game. It sometimes got cutthroat.
“You’ll see,” another man said.
I walked down the hall to the common room with my wheeled escort. It was a daily tradition that I arrive with my honor guard on wheels, as the employees called it.
Many of the other residents were standing at their doors, I noted with surprise.
“For you, Cocoa,” a woman said, giving me a rose.
“Why, thank you!” I exclaimed, accepting the flower and lifting it to my nose. It smelled wonderful.
“This one, too, Cocoa,” another woman said, holding out a rose.
“Well, this is very special,” I said. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but thank you!”
I looked on and my eyes widened. Every resident in the hallway was holding out a single rose for me.
“What’s going on here, guys?” I asked, accepting each flower as I made my way down the hall.
“Better than bingo,” the woman in the wheelchair repeated.
When we reached the common area, every table place was set with a wedge of cake and flute o
f sparkling apple cider.
“Is it someone’s birthday?” I asked. “Now, this is fancy.”
“Guess again.”
I whirled around at the sound of a familiar voice. Liam was standing at the entrance to the common room, surrounded by employees and residents alike. By that time, I was holding an entire bouquet of roses.
“What is all this?” I asked, laughing. “This is pretty elaborate.”
“Collette Bell,” Liam said, his eyes shining, “I love you.”
Residents cooed as my heart swelled. I loved him, too. I knew that I did.