Tiger Shark

by LP Lovell

  My clit is throbbing as the straps rub over the sensitive tissue. I slide the toy deep inside Apollo until my thighs touch the back of his and he lets out a choked groan. I don’t look at Landon. Instead I grip Apollo’s hips hard enough that I can feel my nails bending back against his skin. I pull out of him and do what I do best: I fuck him. I fuck him until he’s pushing back against me, begging for more as his hand strokes over his dick. I’m so consumed by the sight of him falling apart that I jump when I feel hands on my hips, a hot, bare chest at my back. Landon’s lips hit my neck as his arms come around my waist, skating over my ribs and cupping my breasts in his big palms. He’s naked, and I can feel the smooth hardness of his cock pressing against my lower back. I throw my head back against his shoulder, allowing him access to my neck and breasts as I continue to fuck Apollo. The bed dips slightly behind me before his hands move to my hips, stilling my movements. He pushes a thigh between mine, forcing my legs apart. I grind against his thigh, seeking some friction from him.

  “So fucking wet, kitten.” He growls.

  I can’t form coherent words as he removes his thigh and presses his cock against my pussy, sliding between the strategically placed straps. He sinks balls deep inside me, and I gasp, my fingers digging into Apollo. He hisses as my nails break the skin.

  “Fuck him.” Landon commands against my ear.

  My legs are threatening to buckle, but I do as he says and begin rocking into Apollo. Each time I pull out of him, Landon thrusts forward, burying his cock impossibly deep. Apollo’s groans intermingle with the sound of Landon’s heavy breaths behind me. I’m so turned on; I can feel the moisture seeping down my thighs, soaking the straps between my legs.

  I thrust harder, fucking both Apollo and myself more deeply. I cry out as he lets out a long groan, his arm jerking violently as he strokes his dick. He throws back his head, his body stiffening. I keep fucking him because I’m close and every time I move Landon’s dick hits me in just the right spot. I slam my eyes closed, clinging to Apollo’s hips for support, even as he trembles beneath me. Eventually, Apollo pulls away, flinching as he does so. I would fall forward if it weren’t for Landon’s hands holding my hips firmly in place. Apollo rolls across the bed, laying on his back and panting heavily. A trail of his come is seeping into the satin sheets just inches from where my hands are splayed. Landon pulls out of me, and I want to cry out in frustration.

  “Get out.” He barks, his voice rich with the authority he wears so easily.

  I lift my head and see Apollo scramble off the bed and gather his clothes before he exits the room. I roll over, my chest still heaving after the double fucking.

  “That was mean.” I tease.

  He closes the distance between us, unclipping the straps on the toy and tossing it aside. He grips my thighs, wrenching them apart and forcing my knees to my chest. “You had your fun.” He says, sliding between my legs.

  “And you?” I ask. “Did you have fun?”

  He leans over me, his body weight pushing my legs even harder against my chest. Thank fuck for yoga. “You’re at your best when you’re being a bitch.” He rumbles against my lips. “Doesn’t get much hotter than watching you own another guy with a ten-inch dick.”

  He pushes inside me, and I bite down on my bottom lip. “You don’t want my ten-inch dick?”

  He huffs a laugh, pulling out and thrusting back in. “I get to own you.” He wraps his hand around my neck, bringing his face close to mine. “I fuck the woman who gets fucked by no one.”

  “You don’t own me.” I tell him. “You just fuck me.”

  He laughs, thrusting again. “Whatever you have to tell yourself, kitten.” He says, and then he fucks me into next week. He fucks me until the orgasm rips through me so hard that I’m begging him to stop, and still he keeps going, his fingers tightening on my throat with every thrust as he pounds into me before finally coming with a roar. My head thrashes from side to side, my pussy clenching with aftershocks.

  He pulls out, looking down at me as I lay sprawled on the bed. I’m a mess. He can ruin me in minutes, and while part of me fucking hates him, the other part is only too happy about the situation. His eyes flash behind the dark mask, dragging over my naked, sweat covered body. His chest rises and falls heavily, the dim light glinting off his dewy chest, his abs rippling with every breath. God, he’s hot. He grabs my ankle, making me squeal as he drags me off the edge of the bed, just so he can slam his lips over mine.

  “You’re such a Neanderthal.” I say when he’s done.

  He cocks a brow and turns away, showing me his broad shoulders and tapered hips. “Says the woman who likes to fuck a guy with a fake dick, for no other reason than feeling superior.”

  I sniff, shifting off the bed. “We all have our kink.”

  He chuckles as he pulls his boxers back on. They have showers here at the club and believe me, I feel soiled in the best kind of way, but I’ve never been able to bring myself to go in them. I mean, god knows what’s been washed down the drains in there, even if it does look like a five-star hotel. So I put my dress back on, the material clinging to my clammy body. He pulls his shirt over his broad shoulders, fastening the buttons quickly.

  “See you next week stranger.” I say with a teasing grin.

  He grabs my arse, pulling me towards him roughly. I place my palms flat against his chest, feeling his hot skin. “I miss the way you fucking taste.” He growls, making what might have been a romantic notion, and thus a crossing of the line, sound somehow dirty. He grabs my jaw, forcing his tongue inside my mouth until I nip at him.

  “You’ve tasted plenty.” I say, cocking my eyebrow and walking away from him. I click the door shut behind me and leave the club.

  The problem with Landon is that I could easily get addicted, so consumed by him that it would be easy to lose sight of what this is, a temporary reprieve. Soon he’ll go back to Dubai or New York or wherever the fuck else it is he lives, and I’ll be here, in London, doing what I do best. I’m certainly not attached to him, but he brings something out in me that no one else does, an element of submission. When he pins me down and demands that I take everything he has to give, I like it. I always liked to dominate a man, but then maybe I’ve just never found a man capable of dominating me. I have to keep him on his toes, though, just to remind him that I’m not the bitch that rolls over and plays dead.

  This is the pattern of our lives for the next few weeks. At work, we’re professional, above board, all good. I’m productive; I make money and for the most part, I don’t see much of Landon.

  As soon as we step inside Masque, it’s so easy, so simple; it’s…freeing. There are no pretences, no bullshit, just how I like it.

  I sit in the boardroom with my laptop in front of me going over some spread sheets. I’m twenty minutes early for a meeting with Angus and Landon. Eva is supposed to be here taking notes again, but of course, that girl always arrives at exactly the allocated time and not a minute before. I don’t even look up when the door opens and then closes. I’m too busy focusing on the graph in front of me.

  “Not even a good morning?” Landon’s voice pulls my attention. He leans against the desk beside me and places a Starbucks cup in front of me. The rich aroma of coffee fills the room.

  “Nope.” I raise an eyebrow at him and pick up the coffee cup, taking a long sip. He chuckles, unbuttoning his jacket and slipping it off his shoulders before tossing it over the back of the chair next to me. When he turns his attention back to me, I realise I’m staring at his chest. These are the times when our arrangement gets hard, when I’m alone in a room with him, and I’m picturing what that chest looks like without the material covering it, the solid muscles covered in smooth, tan skin.

  “Georgia.” I blink.

  “Sorry, what?”

  A wry smile makes its way onto his lips, and he pushes off the desk, circling behind me and bending down until his breath moves the hair against my neck, tickling over my skin. “You have a terribl
e poker face, kitten.” He says, his voice quiet but deep. “Keep looking at me like that and Angus is going to know.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’ll get a bollocking where Angus is concerned.” I say, glancing over my shoulder at him.

  He stands and moves, taking the seat on the other side of me. “Ah, but I’m also the one who doesn’t care who knows.”

  “Touche.”

  He leans over me and grabs my laptop, pulling it towards him. “Help yourself why don’t you.”

  “I’m the boss.” He grins.

  “Yeah, you’d have thought you could afford your own laptop.”

  “Why bring mine when I can just steal yours?” His eyes flick up, meeting mine over the top of the screen, dancing with amusement.

  “Why bring yours when taking mine is an excuse to aggravate the shit out of me, you mean?”

  “So easy.” He says, shaking his head on a smile.

  “Arsehole.”

  “Temper.” He quietly mocks, keeping his eyes on the screen.

  The door opens, and Angus walks in with Eva on his heels. Her eyes narrow darting between Landon and me. I haven’t told her anything and believe me, sometimes I want to, but I don’t know…I guess I’m almost ashamed of it. Quinn knowing is one thing because she doesn’t know Landon, but Eva works here, she sees too much. She takes a seat at the head of the table on the other side of Landon and gets her laptop out, ready to take notes. Angus sits across from us.

  “Okay, so this is just a catch-up, nothing formal.” Angus starts.

  Landon slides my laptop back in front of me, revealing a solitaire game on the screen. Wow, really? I roll my eyes at him, and he smirks to himself.

  The meeting goes as they always do, standard shit. Landon does what he always does, which is flit between playing the boss and looking bored as shit. I can see now why he has so many businesses. He’s great at what he does, but his attention wanes easily. I guess with a guy like him he has to mix it up to keep his focus.

  When the meeting is done, Angus leaves and Eva lingers, waiting for me to take the lift back up with her.

  “I need to talk to Georgia for a minute.” Landon says as she hovers in the doorway. She glances at me briefly before she closes the door.

  The second I’m alone with him, I become overly aware of him beside me. “What do you need?” I ask as I stand up, collecting my papers and laptop.

  “Hmm, that’s a loaded question.”

  I tilt my head to the side. “Really?” I sigh.

  “It’s Friday. You know what I need, kitten.” Something feral flashes in his eyes and it has my stomach clenching in the best way. Tuesdays and Fridays are when we meet at Masque and the few days between often feel like torture. Like I said, I’m like a sick junkie.

  “I know what you need.” I whisper. He moves closer to me, stalking me, graceful yet deadly. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat from his body caressing my skin like the softest of touches. My eyes drift to his full lips, surrounded by a five O’ clock shadow that covers his chiselled jaw. I find myself leaning in, gravitating toward him like a magnet. Our lips are so close, and then I squeeze my eyes shut and press two fingers to his lips, breaking the invisible thread that exists between us. He releases a heavy breath and touches his forehead to mine for a second, and for that second, he doesn’t feel like my boss or even the guy I fuck, he feels like a possibility.

  I pull away from him. “Tonight.” I let my hand slip away from his lips, but he grabs my wrist, holding me in place. He turns my hand over, kissing the inside of my wrist. His lips are so gentle, sending tingles of sensation up my arm.

  “Tonight.” He says, and then he releases my arm, stepping back as though physically forcing himself to be out of reach. I leave with a nervous feeling in my stomach.

  I don’t bother going to Ice or meeting Quinn. I’m becoming increasingly more unsociable as the weeks pass. They say that a junkie can think of nothing but their next fix, well I think I’m there. Landon is slowly consuming my life, and I’m willingly letting him.

  I throw on a little black dress and a cropped leather jacket with a pair of Jimmy Choo ankle boots before leaving the apartment. I jump in my car and turn the engine on, putting it in reverse. When I put my foot down on the accelerator, though, nothing happens. I frown and press it further, and the car awkwardly limps backwards. What the hell? I chuck it in neutral and hop out only to find that my front tyre is flat. Well fuck.

  Now, I’ll be the first to admit that I have no idea how to change a tyre. It’s just not a life skill that I cared to learn. I sigh and take my phone out, finding the number for the breakdown people. Well, it turns out that when you’re on your own driveway, they don’t really regard you as much of an emergency, and it might take them up to two hours to rock up. I debate just calling a taxi and leaving it, but I’m going to need it over the weekend.

  I pull my phone out and send Landon a text: Don’t know if I can make it tonight. Car issues.

  After a couple of minutes my phone rings, his name flashing on the screen.

  “Hey.” I say when I pick it up.

  “Where are you?” His deep voice comes over the line.

  “At my place, waiting for the guy to come and change my tyre.”

  He laughs. “You called someone to change your tyre?”

  “Yes. I called someone to change my tyre. I’m not doing it.”

  He sighs heavily. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “What? No…” The line goes dead, and I find myself scowling at my phone. Arsehole. I go back inside because really? What else am I going to do?

  Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, the intercom buzzes.

  I pick up the receiver. “Hello.”

  “It’s me.” Landon say, making me roll me eyes.

  “You don’t need to be here…” I start.

  “Bring your keys down.”

  I hang up the receiver and pick up my car key from the side table by the door. When I get downstairs, I spot him leaning against the side of a Maserati that’s pulled up in the disabled bay. The midnight blue paint shimmers under the lighting outside the building. He stands casually, his legs braced apart, and his hands propped behind him on the bonnet. He’s wearing black jeans and a light grey shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top two buttons undone. The whole thing looks like a magazine spread for Maserati.

  “Nice car.”

  His lips kick up in a wry smile. “Thanks.”

  “You can go. I have someone coming.” I say defensively.

  “You do realise it takes ten minutes to change a tyre.”

  “Good to know.”

  He sighs and pushes away from the car, moving closer to me. “Okay, I want to fuck you tonight, no, I need to fuck you tonight.” His eyes dance with something dark and feral. “So I’m going to change your tyre and then I’m going to take you to Masque and fuck you raw.” I clench my thighs together as my underwear becomes soaked. Fucking shit.

  I throw my car key at him, and he lifts one hand, catching it without even moving. “The Mercedes.” I say, pointing at my car two spaces over. He clicks the boot open, and moves away, standing by it as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Uh, what are you doing?” Jesus, what is he going to do? Fuck me right here in the car park? Images flash through my mind of Landon fucking me on the bonnet of that Maserati, and I have to bite my lip. Shit.

  He shrugs the material off his shoulders. The dim street light plays over every chiselled line of his body. I can’t help but stare. “Changing my shirt.”

  He pulls on a plain black t-shirt that’s clinging to him in all the right places. Don’t get me wrong; I like the suits, but damn, he’s making that look hot. He slams the boot and moves over to my car, opening the boot. “What are you doing now?”

  “Changing your tyre.” He says, ignoring me and proceeding to start tearing my car apart.

  “By trashing my car?” He pulls back a compartment in the boot, revealin
g a tyre. So that’s where it lives. He cocks an eyebrow at me, flashing me a smug look. “Fine.” I sniff. He chuckles, shaking his head as he starts pulling various tools out of the boot.

  I’ve never been much of a blue collar girl, but I have to admit, watching Landon throw around a tyre seems all very manly. When ninety percent of the men you meet have weekly manicures, it takes very little to impress me on the man scale.

  He narrows his eyes and takes his phone out, shining the light around the hole in the boot where the tyre was sitting. “Where’s the key for your locking wheel nut?” He asks.

  When I don’t respond, he looks at me. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

  He sighs and drags a hand though his hair. “Where did you buy your car from?”

  “Mercedes. What key? This key?” I hold up the key in my hand, and he actually rolls his eyes at me.

  “No, it’ll have to go to the garage, and they’ll have to saw it off.”

  “Saw what off?!” He ignores me and starts putting the stuff back in the boot.

  “I’ll get it sorted.” He says dismissively. I fold my arms over my chest and scowl at him. He folds the floor of the boot back into place and shuts the boot. When he looks at me, I’m still glaring. He smirks. “I could explain it to you, but you didn’t even know you have a spare tyre.”

  “I did!”

  He cocks an eyebrow at me, disbelief written all over his face. “Sure you did, kitten.”

  He braces his hands against the car, and they’re filthy from handling the tyre. There’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek and without thinking about it, I reach out and swipe my thumb over it trying to rub it away. The atmosphere suddenly changes, becoming instantly charged again. I should know better. I do know better, but sometimes with him what I should do and what I actually do don’t seem to blend with no definition.