by Henry, Max
I’m putting way to much thought into what was supposed to be a quick fuck and go, but to be honest I couldn’t give a damn. Not when the woman I’ve lamented losing for years lies before me, totally at my will.
I align the head of my cock with her ass, nudging the sensitive tip against the tight little rose. She sucks in a sharp breath, but then quickly relaxes again as I make a small circle across her nerves before testing again. The rose glistens with the arousal I pulled from her sweet pussy, teasing me with its promise. Each time I push against her I get a little deeper, a little closer to heaven. Before long, the head of my cock slips into the tight hole, the muscles clamping tight around the shaft.
Sweet, Jesus. That’s what I’m talking about, right there.
“So fucking tight,” I praise as I ease a little deeper, tickling her clit with one hand.
She moans like a goddamn porn star when I finally seat my dick fully in her ass. It takes me a few precious seconds to bring myself back from the edge before I can pull back and ease in again.
Corinne adjusts her stance, sliding one hand between her legs to rub tight little circles on her clit as I build pace. Her goddamn ass chokes the living fuck out of my dick, making it damn near impossible not to nut inside of her.
“How does that feel? Talk to me.” My fingers leave imprints on her ass cheeks, my grip the only thing pulling me back from the edge of bliss.
“God, it’s so good.” She groans, her hand working those magic circles a little quicker, a little harder. “So full.”
She has no idea how full I’d like to make her. This doesn’t even touch on the half of it.
I slide my hand along the length of her pussy, coating my palm with her juices as I massage the swollen flesh. One digit, and then two, I fill her a little more as I thrust a little harder into her sweet, sweet ass. She groans, the sound guttural as her eyes close. In this position, my balls graze the underside of my wrist while I finger fuck her to orgasm, the tickle bringing me right along for the ride with her.
She pushes against me, searching for more as I drill both holes hard enough to render her useless for the next few hours at least. But what do I fucking care if her cunt is bruised, her ass raw from my assault if she cries out in pleasure like she does right now?
What the fuck do I care when I plan to call her a cab and kick her the fuck out when I’m done?
“God yes,” she groans into the comforter. “Fuck me like you paid for it.”
Oh, baby. I did.
FIVE
Corinne
“Tell me everything,” Sarah breathes as we walk the block to work from the parking complex.
“There’s not much to tell.” I take a sip of my steaming hot macchiato. “He fucked me stupid and then kicked me out of his house.”
“Asshole.”
“Is it wrong that I want him to do it again?”
She grins, tucking closer to avoid collision with the oncoming foot traffic. “Nope. Did you at least get his number or leave him yours?”
I shake my head and pull in a deep breath. “He literally pulled out—” I hesitate until the guy walking past us is out of earshot “—and then asked me to wait in the foyer after I’d cleaned up.”
“What?” Sarah’s brow furrows. “I mean the guy looked like a cold hearted bastard, but really?”
“Really.” I shrug. “At least he splurged for a corporate cab.”
“Gee. Lucky you,” she drones.
I let her go first when we reach the revolving door that leads into our building, tucking my coffee close as I push around. I wore it once when my elbow caught the stationary part of the frame—not doing that again.
“We need to cyber-stalk the guy,” Sarah states with finality when I rejoin her in the lobby.
Clearly she’s had some time to think this over while we navigated the death trap.
“Have you looked him up yet?”
I roll my eyes at her. “What do you think?”
“And?”
“He likes flashy cars and showing off his wealth, it seems. Typical ego-driven ‘entrepreneur’.”
“Hey,” she scoffs. “At first glance you look like a wannabe fashion blogger, so remember that we’re not all what we seem at face value. Maybe that stuff helps sell his work, or something.” She frowns as we stop for the next lift. “What does he do?”
“How would I know? Something to do with technology. He hardly gave me the guided tour of his house for me to get any clues.”
“True.” She reaches into her purse and pulls her phone out, whispering when a woman in a pantsuit stands too close. “What’s his name?”
“Jordan.”
She winds her hand, indicating she wants his surname.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “He didn’t exactly tell me that before he ordered me to get on the bed.”
“Was it not on Instagram?”
I shake my head. “His full name wasn’t in his bio.”
“How did you find him then?”
“Chase follows him.”
“He knows your brother?”
My eyes widen at he thought of involving him in this. “No way.”
“I’ll ask. Say I bumped into the guy myself.”
“No,” I hiss as we step into the lift with pantsuit lady. “He’ll figure it out.”
“How?” Sarah frowns while her thumb flies across her screen.
“What are you doing?” I try to see over her shoulder, yet she keeps turning on the spot to fend me off.
“What have I done, is the question.” She rotates the phone to show me a message to Chase.
Met some guy last night who said he knows you—Jordan. Should I be worried if he offers to buy me a drink again?
“I can’t believe you did that.” My ass hits the glossy brass rail as I slump against the lift wall in defeat.
“Well, you weren’t about to.”
Pantsuit lady gives us both a scathing glare before exiting on her level, two below ours. I poke my tongue out at her retreating back before realizing their reception has a mirrored rear wall. Oops. Hopefully I don’t see her at the end of the day then.
Sarah’s phone chimes with a reply. The two of us scramble to see the message, losing balance as I crash into Sarah’s side, arm extended to save my coffee.
The lift dings and then opens on our floor, the two of us crammed into the corner as we read the simple, blunt answer to Sarah’s question.
Stay the hell away from that guy, S. He’s trouble. Make sure Corinne doesn’t go near him, either.
“Well.” She cocks an eyebrow at me, stepping sideways into our office foyer. “Looks as though you’ll have your hands full.”
“How?” I shake my head. “There was no exchange of numbers, remember?”
She parts ways with me to head to her department, while I veer left to mine. “Doesn’t mean a thing.”
***
Apparently, it doesn’t. I spend the entire work day being bombarded by emails from Sarah with questions about how I know him, what I remember of Jordan, and links to possible Facebook accounts for the guy.
It’s no use—I tried that already. If he is friends with Chase, he has his account locked down so that people who aren’t connected with him can’t see him. And yes, a simple question to my brother would save us all this hassle, but like hell I’m asking Chase for information on Jordan when he warned Sarah—and me—away from the guy.
I already have an over-bearing father; I don’t need a brother who acts like one too.
“Corinne.”
I swivel my chair to face our manager, Ted. “Yes?”
“Would you be able to stay behind a little later today?” He turns his wedding band around his finger—a sign he’s nervous.
“Sure. I guess so. Why?” Only big projects require extra time, and even then it doesn’t happen more than once or twice a year at most.
“We’ve got a major client threatening to pull their account if we can’t do some damage control a
fter a breach that happened over the weekend.”
“Flynn & Taylor?”
He nods. “You know about that?”
“Yeah. I heard the stories going around the office.” Their website—which our company designed and maintains—was compromised. Two hundred customer files were harvested with credit card information stored inside.
The breach wasn’t our fault; it was the result of a hit on the third party used to process the store payments. But our company was the one who chose that third party, so the blame lies with us.
“Can you help with some damage control?” Ted asks hopefully.
Not that I know what I can do, but, “Sure.”
“We’ve got an expert coming in to work some analysis on what we can do to make our systems watertight. Hopefully that’ll be enough to assure F & T it won’t happen again.”
“Okay. What can I do?”
“I need somebody to run down to the deli and pick up refreshments. It’s going to be a long night.”
Hear that hiss? Yeah, that’s my balloon of confidence screaming around the office as it deflates. “I can do that. Of course.”
“We’d only need you here for another hour or so.”
“Honestly.” I wave a dismissive hand at Ted. “It’s no problem. I’ll just make a phone call, and then I’ll go set up the boardroom.”
He runs a hand through his short curly hair. “Thanks, Corinne. You’re a real help.”
No. I’m a web technician. But if being the sandwich lady gets me brownie points toward a promotion, then I’ll give it a try.
I pull my phone out as he walks away, sinking into my chair with a sigh.
“Hey, babe. I’m in the foyer still.”
I stand and wave to Sarah across the expanse of cubicles. “I have to stay back for a bit.”
“You want me to wait?”
“No.” I drop back into my seat. “I’ll be a while. I’ll catch you tomorrow morning.”
“Okay. See you then, babe.”
I disconnect, and then stand to watch as she gets into the lift and disappears from view. Ted’s voice drifts from his open office door, the call on speaker as I walk past to prep the boardroom.
The answering tones of his caller leave a chill tickling my spine. No way. My steps falter, and I hesitate just out of view to listen in.
“I’m on my way over. Stuck in a bit of traffic, but I’ll be there soon.”
“Thanks for coming in at such short notice, man. I owe you one.”
“Hey, I owe you plenty after the shit we pulled in college. Don’t sweat it.”
Ted knows Jordan. Is there anybody in my goddamn life who doesn’t know the guy? I totally should have moved interstate after graduating; would have avoided these kinds of run-ins, that’s for sure.
I continue to the far end of the office space, yet instead of entering the boardroom like I was supposed to, I veer right and head for the restrooms instead. I’ve had a long day, and I can’t guarantee that I look all that great after fidgeting with my hair like I do while transitioning data from one site to the next.
He might not have intended on seeing me again, but I know without a doubt that after Jordan sees me today, I’ll make sure he won’t ever feel that way again.
SIX
Jordan
I clear my throat when Corinne strides in to the boardroom.
“Walk me through the process, Ted.” My gaze tracks her curvy ass as she rounds the table to set a pitcher of water in the middle. “How did this happen?”
Whatever the fuck my old college buddy says, I only half pay attention. The answer is laid out before me in data sheets, reports, and affidavits from his staff. I only asked him to spell it all out as though I’m fucking stupid so I could get a moment to appreciate the feminine form bent over beside me.
Goddamn. My palm itches to lash out and strike that firm peach.
She un-stacks the glassware, taking her sweet time to lay them out in a line beside the pitcher. A single jerk of her wrist before she sets the last down, and Ted shakes his head in response to say he isn’t thirsty.
“Mr. Bowman?”
I grit my teeth, and nod. If only to have her there a moment longer. I didn’t want her to know my last name yet. I didn’t want her to be able to track me down.
Didn’t factor on her being Ted’s right hand today, did I?
“Thank you, Corinne.” Ted smiles politely in the way that reads ‘Go now.’
She takes the hint, and rounds the table once more to march her long fucking legs out the boardroom door. Jesus. Seeing those pins in a pair of sky-high heels? As if it wasn’t difficult enough not to get a raging hard-on remembering how she spread herself wide on my bed.
Whole goddamn plan has gone to hell. I kicked her out the damn door, certain her pussy still ached from the hammering I gave her given how my balls did, with all intention of playing hard to get. A week here, a few more days there. I wanted her to hunger for me, to thirst for more like I have since she bent over, at sixteen, and promised me things I couldn’t have.
“Where are your servers kept?” I swallow a couple of times, bringing the focus back to Ted.
She wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. She’s just a technician. A lackey.
“I’ll show you.” He rises and gestures to follow with a jerk of his chin.
We make our way through identical cubicles, the space sickeningly clean and crisp. There isn’t a singular sign of life outside these walls on any one of the desks. No photos, no funny memes tacked to the wall. Nothing.
Ugh. I like order as much as the next guy, but Jesus, let the people feel human.
“What did you want to know?”
I humor Ted with question after question about how their servers are protected and backed up. What contingencies they have in place for each perceived threat to the business. He chews my ear off, giving me the details I need, yet my focus keeps sliding out the server room door and to the glimpses of Corinne I get as she moves around the place.
The woman’s always been beautiful, blessed with a fine jaw and large eyes set amongst a mass of natural blonde waves. But age has certainly been kind to her figure, filling out those bony hips with more than enough cushion to satisfy my preferences, her long legs balancing out her top-heavy frame. Yes. My girl was blessed with more than a handful of natural assets. She’s got the kind of fullness to her breasts that make a man dream of burying his face in there.
“Jordan?”
“Huh?”
“Anything else?”
I rub my stomach for good measure, just to thicken the lie a little. “Might head past the men’s. I’ll see you back in the boardroom.”
He flattens his lips and nods, before leaving me to count out the minutes until this gets suspicious.
Corinne gathers up her purse as I approach, an unfamiliar panic settling in my chest when I realize I could have missed her.
“Leaving so soon?”
A gasp falls from her lips, full and painted the most appealing shade of red. “Jordan.”
“Must say it was a nice surprise to find you here.” I lean my forearm on her cubicle wall, aiming for casual and suave.
She shoots me down fast and hard. “You know, you’re quite ugly when you lie.”
“Pardon?”
She slings her purse strap over one arm, resting it in the crook of her elbow as she slams the other hand on her hip. “A nice surprise to see me? Pfft. Please. You couldn’t wait to get rid of me two nights ago.”
Fuck. What do I say now? This is not how I planned this conversation to go.
“Well, excuse me, but last time I checked women didn’t pick men up in a bar if they wanted anything other than a casual bit of fun.”
“Bit of fun.” Her lips press into a flat line as she nods. “Nice to know where I stand. Thank you, Mr. Bowman.”
Her shoulder hits my arm as she passes, her face a goddamn storm. Before I can think the consequences through, my hand shoots out and I capture he
r by the bicep.
“Wait.”
“Remove your hand, please.”
“Only if you promise to hear me out.” My heart hammers like a goddamn piston, pumping blood to the worst places in this point in time. But her arm beneath my touch… fucking woman drives me to distraction.
“One minute. I have places to be.”
Right. I’ve got this. Entirely.
“Fifty-five seconds, Jordan.”
I’m fucked.
“I was rude.”
“No kidding.”
“But.” I lift my palm as I remove my hand from her. “I was caught off guard, so I acted a little …”
“Like an asshole?” she quips.
“You could say that.”
Her stare is blank. “What do you want from me?”
Hot sex. Blowjobs. Your tits in my hands as you ride my cock— “A second chance.” Forever.
She blows out a loaded breath, gaze drifting past me as she seems to think the proposition over. “No.”
Wait. What? “Sorry?”
“No, Jordan.” Her gaze slides back to me, cool and calculated. “Find yourself another ‘bit of fun’ to practice on.”
“Corinne …”
“I believe you have a meeting you’re required in.” She turns and heads for the lifts.
I’m not the kind of man to beg, but, “Please.”
“No, Mr. Bowman,” she sasses as makes her way through the maze of cubicles. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Pleasure … I’ll give her pleasure.
She might think I already did, but hell that was simply the warm up.
Game on, little girl.
Time to play with the big boys.
Big boy.
SEVEN
Corinne
Two can play at his game. So what if the man is over six-foot of pure muscle mass that promises multiple orgasms? Doesn’t mean he can walk on in to my place of work and demand a second chance.
Huh.
If he hadn’t stumbled across me today, what would he have done? I can bet your cotton candy ass that it wouldn’t have been look me up and ask for a second date.
Date. Ha! The man wouldn’t know a date if one slapped him in the face.