by Mika Lane
Like eating candy.
“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head with an amused smile.
“It might be ridiculous to you, but not me. It just feels weird.”
He led her to a giant bench in the middle of the room. From their seat there, they had a nearly three-hundred-sixty-degree view of the gallery’s artwork.
“How’d you get into writing?” He ran his finger over her hand.
Heat washed over her, and she took a deep breath in an attempt to stay cool. “Well, my sister and I would make up stories when we were kids. Sometimes we wrote them down and even illustrated them. It sort of helped us with a difficult childhood.”
“No kidding. My writing definitely saved me, too.”
Really?
“Where’s your sister, now?” he asked.
“She’s back in North Dakota where we grew up.” A pang of guilt hit her. She’d gotten out of their small town, but her sister was back there, saddled with their mother’s drama.
“You grew up in North Dakota? It is true the temps there are sometimes minus thirty in the winter?”
She laughed. “Sometimes, yeah. That’s why I came to California first chance I got. Can you blame me?” She looked into his steely eyes with the crinkles in the corners, and took in the grey stubble along his jawline. The miserable temperatures of North Dakota were an eternity ago, thank goodness.
Would it be okay to just run a finger along that fine face, right here, right now…
“When it’s that cold,” she said, “you can’t go out to play. So you have to make your own fun. Thank goodness for my sister.” She needed to remember to call her tomorrow. They hadn’t spoken in ages.
“So what did you write?”
Jewel tilted her head and thought for a moment. “I guess today it would be called fan fiction. We took our favorite TV shows and made up stories about the characters. Like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. That was a good one.” She nodded, remembering. Those days seemed centuries ago.
“Yeah? And look at you now, still writing.”
Pursing her lips, she studied her hands and shook her head. “I stopped for a long time. I didn’t have much confidence.”
Gabe hooked a finger under her chin and turned her face to his. “Why not?”
She lowered her gaze. It was too hard to talk about something so painful and look at him at the same time. “My mom…she kind of drilled into my head that I didn’t have much promise when it came to things like that. Unfortunately, I believed her.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But I suspect she was wrong.” He put an arm around her shoulder. “So I remember your telling me at Devi’s Bliss that you write erotica?”
“I do…” Why was she all of a sudden so bashful? She cleared her throat. There was nothing to be embarrassed of.
“I write a little erotica myself, under yet another pen name.”
Relief washed over her. “Get out! That’s so awesome. What have you published?”
“A couple anthologies. Nothing big.” He turned to her with a smile. “It’s fun, though, isn’t it? Writing erotica?”
“Oh yes! Coming up with your wildest fantasies and then putting them down on paper for the world to see. Well, the world hasn’t seen any of mine. But hopefully some day, they will.”
“I can’t wait to see your writing. Maybe I can give you some ideas.”
Tingles exploded through her core. Was he flirting?
Please, god.
“Yeah? You think you could give me some ideas?” She tilted her head. Why not be cocky? What did she have to lose?
He stood up, extending his hand to her. “Here. Follow me.”
“Um. Okay. Where are we going?” They headed for a plain white door that said Security. If the sign hadn’t been on it, it would have blended right into the walls, like a secret passage. “Hey, we can’t go in there,” she said.
He didn’t slow and instead, pulled her by the hand. They were getting closer to the door.
“I don’t know if we should open that,” she said, holding back. She glanced around the gallery to see if anyone was watching. Where were all the guards that museums were normally loaded with?
But before she could protest further, Gabe’s hand was on the door. In a flash, they were on the other side of it.
“What are we doing in here?” she whispered.
He responded in a stage whisper. “It’s okay. I’m a major donor to the museum, and I’m on the board. I kind of have free reign. This is just a shortcut.”
He led her through a long hallway, down a set of stairs, and along yet another hall. She didn’t know whether to be excited or scared. An adventure was one thing, but trespassing in a major art museum? She really was not up for getting arrested tonight. She had a lot to do tomorrow.
They arrived at an open-plan office with cubicles divided by blond wood and frosted glass. The area was spotless and tidy, its walls covered in gorgeous artwork.
“Whoa,” she said.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he asked, his arm sweeping through the space. “These are the offices of the people who run the museum. The public doesn’t get to see this. It’s just as well. I suppose it would kill some of the magic.”
“I know exactly what you mean. Museums are magical. And whose offices are those?”
“One belongs to Simone.”
Oh, right. The skinny bitch.
“Is it okay that we’re in here?” Jewel asked, looking around for security cameras.
“C’mon.” He took her hand and led her toward Skinny Bitch’s office. “Let’s play.”
“What if someone comes?” She pulled back, resisting.
“They won’t. Everyone’s gone for the day. I want to give you some material for your story.” He gave her hand a little tug.
What?
“Um. Well, okay.” She followed him to Simone’s office, where the membership director had thoughtfully plastered framed photos of herself over every surface. Gag.
Gabe stepped aside just enough for Jewel to slip inside the office door, but not quite far enough so she didn’t have to press against him as she entered. Not that she minded. She just hoped he hadn’t noticed her tingling nipples straining through her dress, screaming look at me.
Shutting the door, he sat on the edge of the desk—Simone’s desk—which sort of creeped Jewel out. They were surrounded by photos of the pretty brunette doing things only super lucky people got to do, like ski, sail, and hike the Himalayas. But Jewel also got some satisfaction as her inner curvy girl triumphed. After all, she was here with this gorgeous man who made women salivate. Not the skinny bitch.
Gabe pulled her to him. He ran a hand over her long, loose hair, carefully pushing it behind her shoulders. He seemed to lose himself in playing with her locks, and his preoccupation gave her time to study his thick black eyelashes and tanned, craggy skin. If it was possible, he was even better looking up-close. And he smelled so…clean and manly. Her mouth grew dry as thoughts of the dirty things she might like to do with him ran through her mind at triple speed. His potency was intoxicating, and she leaned into him to remain upright.
As naughty thoughts collected in her mind, his firm lips fell on hers in an exploring kiss. She closed her eyes, read to melt. But almost as soon as he started, he stopped. He pulled back.
“Okay. It’s time,” he said.
Jewel tilted her head and said in her best teasing tone, “Time for what, Mr. Teacher?”
“Oooh. Now you’re talking.” He looked around at the spotless desk.
Figures, Skinny Bitch didn’t have a single messy pile of papers anywhere.
“I’m gonna sit here,” he said. “You pretend to be a student begging for a better grade.”
Holy shit. Was he a mind reader? This was getting freaky.
“Okay…”
She walked out of the office to get in position.
He jumped behind the desk and settled into Simone’s perfumed chair, propping his shoes
onto her pristine desk.
When he was ready and waiting, she walked back to the office door, ready to go with her Academy Awards faux Best Actress voice.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Mr. C? May I come in?” She glanced around once more to assess the privacy situation before diving into the charade.
Gabe cleared his throat and raised his chin. “Of course, Miss Naphine. What can I do for you?”
She approached him with mincing steps, chin down, and her eyes peering from under her eyelashes. “Mr. C, as you know, I want to learn to write dirty—I mean, naughty books.”
“Miss Naphine, do you think that’s an appropriate pursuit for a nice young lady like yourself?”
She walked around to the front of the desk and perched on the corner, adjusting her top to reveal a bit of the girls. Her crotch was just inches from him.
“I know my momma would not approve. I just won’t tell her.” She rubbed her foot against his.
He stroked his chin like a good, thoughtful professor. Perhaps he’d had practice in this area?
“In that case, I do suppose I could help you. If that’s what you’re asking for,” he said, his hand running up her calf.
“Um. That’s kind of what I’m asking for. But I need something else.”
“Hmmm?”
“Well, I’m not very experienced, and before I can write my stories, I thought I should try some things.”
God, this was fun.
“What sorts of things, Miss Naphine?”
She slid her knees open, causing her skirt to ride up. “You know. Sexual things.” She looked down bashfully.
“I see. I see. I think I can help you with that. Do you have much experience sucking cock?”
She tried to suppress the smile that spread across her face. “No, sir,” she answered, in a serious tone.
He stood and unzipped his pants. Reaching inside—with no underwear to obstruct him—he pulled out his already-hard cock.
Jewel watched, mesmerized, not sure if the role play was still on, or if she could just be extremely turned on. Why not both…
“Mr. C, that’s a very big…” She hesitated, like any good girl would have.
“You can say it, sweetie. C’mon. Let me hear you say it.” His fist traveled from the base to the tip of his erection, where a drop of precum had gathered. And which Jewel was dying to taste.
She whispered, “Cock.”
“Again. Louder.”
“Cock.”
“That’s better.”
She couldn’t take her eyes away from his slow strokes. His erection was beyond beautiful, from the tip to the base that got lost in his blue jeans.
“Can I touch it?” she asked with a sly smile.
“Yes, you can touch it. In fact, I require that you touch it.”
She slowly pushed his hand away and replaced it with her own. She shivered at the velvety skin of his shaft, her fingers barely reaching around it. Running her light grip along its length, she looked for his reaction. His eyes had shut and his head had fallen slightly back. His lips were enormously kissable, and she ached to feel them. But she held back. Not yet…the game was still playing.
“Okay, Miss Naphine,” he murmured. “You’ve got the stroking down. Now for the next lesson.”
“What would that be?” She took a sneaky look around the office, listening for footsteps.
Does no one ever come down here after hours?
“Now it’s time to learn how to use your mouth.”
“Okay. Where do I begin?” Heart pounding, pussy tingling, her wetness exploded. She couldn’t pull her gaze from his erection. She also couldn’t wait to get her lips on it.
“Don’t be afraid, Miss Naphine. Just open your mouth as wide as you can, don’t use your teeth, and close your lips to create a suction.”
She nodded. “But what if I choke?”
“You might choke. Just take a deep breath, relax, and open your throat. You’ll be fine.”
She lowered herself to her knees and with her eyes on his cock, licked her lips. Gripping his shaft with one hand, she lowered her mouth over the head. But she immediately bounced back up.
“Mr. C, I don’t know about this.”
“Sweetie, if you want to write naughty books, you have to know how all the sexual acts are carried out.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
She tentatively pursed her lips on the head of his cock. He made a sharp inhale. She ventured farther down, acting of course, scared out of her wits. His slight salty taste and clean scent made her want to dive as deep as she could. But not just yet. She let him go. “Professor. Maybe I’m not cut out for naughty stories.”
He suppressed a laugh. “Nonsense. You can do it; I see it in your eyes. Now suck me. Do it.”
Damn.
She smiled and in one quick movement engulfed him with her hungry mouth and reached inside his jeans for his sac. She pulled on it gently while she opened her throat to take him without gagging—just as he’d instructed. As far as she was concerned, the game was over. She wanted his cock in her mouth, and she intended to enjoy every inch of it. The schoolgirl thing was fun…but it was time to get real.
While she sucked him as he sat in Simone’s office chair, she balanced on her knees, parting them a bit to cool her building fire. Her jersey maxi skirt slithered up, and the cool office air whispered across her sex. She ran a hand between her legs, finding her panties completely soaked.
Gabe’s breathing deepened and grew raspy. He gripped the edges of the desk and placed a hand on Jewel’s head as it bobbed up and down on his cock. He didn’t push, but hinted that she suck him even deeper.
“Oh fuck, Jewel, yeah,” he cried as he pounded the fist of his free hand on the desk.
She sucked until her eyes watered and saliva ran down her chin. And yet she pistoned her head over him, his cock sliding in and out of her mouth with a fury that surprised even her.
He emitted an ear-shattering groan, his orgasm exploding into the back of Jewel’s throat. She choked for just a moment but recovered, swallowing the thick streams of cum he shot into her mouth. He removed his hand from her head, falling back into the chair, barely able to catch his breath as his orgasm continued to wreck him.
She’s captured every drop of his semen and licked him to ensure there was nothing she missed. Grabbing a tissue from Simone’s desk, she wiped her face and chin and stood to stretch her wobbly legs.
He stood, too, tucking himself back into his pants. He threw his arms around her, pulling back enough to look her in the eye. “You are amazing. And so fucking beautiful. God, where did you come from?”
I might ask the same.
“Thank you,” she breathed.
A key turned in a lock somewhere not far off. They jumped into action, pulling themselves together. Moments later, Gabe led Jewel from Simone’s office. As they turned a corner, they bumped smack into a security guard.
“Mr. Corrigan,” the guard said, startled. “I didn’t expect to see you down here.”
“Hey there. Sorry for the surprise. Was just showing my friend, Jewel, where the magic happens.”
“I hope you enjoyed your visit,” the guard said to Jewel.
She nodded. “I did. It was very, very magical.”
On her way out the next morning, Jewel couldn’t get Gabe out of her mind. He was hot as shit, not to mention lots of fun. Maybe having him as an instructor wouldn’t be such a bad thing. But something about it felt…risky. And vulnerable.
She pulled her coupe into an ugly little strip mall not far from her house. It was ungodly early, six a.m., and there were only a couple other cars in the lot. Her hand rested on the car’s door handle, hesitating to push it open.
Oh, what the hell.
She hauled her butt out of the car and headed for a nondescript door with a dirty sign that said Fitness Center. As soon as she rang the bell, the door flew open, and she was greeted by a guy with hair slicked into a man bun, and a tr
acksuit hugging his short but muscular frame. Jewel found herself eye-to-eye with a pair of jet-black eyebrows that had obviously been waxed to perfection. Was this the famous Bear? He waxes his eyebrows?
“Jewel! Good to see you. I love my early morning clients. C’mon in,” he said, his voice dripping with enthusiasm. “I’m Bear. Good to have you here.” He extended a distinctly non-bear-sized hand.
Her new personal trainer was a bit too cheery for not only the early hour but also the setting. Who the hell got so excited about working out? She didn’t, and wasn’t planning on starting.
Her coworker Aurora’s neighbor’s friend’s uncle ran this little gym, and Bear was supposed to be one of the best trainers around. If one was into that sort of thing. Reportedly, he’d worked with many ladies looking to lose a little, um, baby weight. The Mommy Makeover was what he called his program. Lots of ladies jonesing for those goal jeans, apparently…
“So, Jewel. Let’s do a bit of intake to get a sense of what we are going to be working on together.”
Together? Can he do the workout for me?
“Well, Bear, I wouldn’t mind losing twenty pounds or so.”
Hands on hips, he snapped his head back. “No. You don’t need to lose twenty. Stand up. Let me take a look at you.”
Either he was full of shit, stupid, or both. Jewel stood and rotated so he could see for his own eyes that she was not making it up, and that she really had a few to lose. She hadn’t stuffed her leggings to create fake saddlebags and her tummy pooch. They were real, bitch. And why else would she be there at that hour?
Did he think she was goddamned crazy?
Whew, she was getting steamed. She wiped at the mist of perspiration already collecting at her hairline. Why were gyms always so stuffy?
“Okay, well let’s weigh you to see if you really need to lose twenty.”
He led her to the scale. She stepped up and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to know her number. But it didn’t matter. He called it out like it was a score. Thank god no one else was there yet, except the other trainer.
“You can step off now, Jewel.” He crossed his arms and considered her. “How many kids have you had?”
What?