by Leslie Kelly
Even better, his jeans were open, his briefs pushed down. And his hand encircled his huge erection.
“Yes. Imagine it’s me touching you,” she told him.
He never took his eyes off her, beginning to stroke, up and down, his movements timed to match her strokes against the bedpost. But when she let go of it, he didn’t stop.
“The bra,” he ordered.
“Just as the customer desires,” she whispered, taunting him with every bit of her sexuality.
She unfastened the bra, dragging out the moment before it fell away to reveal her breasts. This usually marked the end of one of her numbers, but tonight, Izzie was just getting started. She touched herself, showing him the way she wanted to be touched. Crossing her arms—her hips still rocking—she cupped each breast. Capturing her nipples between her fingers, she tweaked and rolled. The pleasure she gave herself—and the way Nick reacted to it—sent pure liquid want rushing to her sex, already dripping with readiness.
Hearing Nick clear his throat, she glanced over and saw he held a twenty dollar bill in his hand. He was enjoying this game. Getting into the fantasy.
“You have something for me, mister?” she asked, almost purring the words as she danced closer, wearing nothing but her skimpy panties and shoes.
“Uh-huh. But you have to work for it.”
She moved again, closer, stepping over one of his legs to straddle it. She lowered herself closer to his thigh, rocking a few inches above it. Her breasts swayed close to his face. “What’d you have in mind?”
He leaned up, his mouth moving toward her breast.
“Uh-uh, no touching,” she said, easing back a little. “I can touch you...you can’t touch me.”
“Those the rules?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not sure how long I’ll be able to obey them.”
“You’ll just have to keep your hands busy elsewhere until I say you can break them.”
He flexed his hand again, lazily working the erection that still jutted out of his unfastened pants. “That means the rules will eventually be broken?”
She bent down again, low, brushing her silky panties over his strong thigh. “If you’re very, very good.” Her mouth watering, she inched closer, so her leg could brush against all that male heat. He instinctively arched toward her, branding her with that ridge of flesh that had given her such intense pleasure last week.
She wanted it. Badly. In every way it was possible for a woman to take it.
“You want a lap dance, mister?” she asked in her heavy, Crimson Rose whisper.
His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t know you gave them.”
“I don’t. But you’re an extra-special customer.”
Izzie had never done this particular type of dance, but she figured she could fake it. Frankly, she didn’t think Nick would care if she didn’t get it exactly right.
So she went with her instincts. With both hands on the back of the chair, she swayed over him, brushing her breasts against his cheeks, shivering at the delicious roughness of his skin. She danced above him, writhing just above one leg, then the other, then straddling both. He watched with glittering eyes, groaning with need as she taunted him—coming close, so close—then pulling away.
“Gonna have to break that rule soon, lady,” he growled.
“We’ll see.”
Driving them both closer to the brink of insanity, she dipped lower than she’d ever gone, until the silky wet fabric between her thighs met his arousal and set them both completely on fire. He grabbed her hips, helping her rock up and down on him until they both moaned with the pleasure of it.
“You’re touching,” she said.
He thrust up harder, the hot tip of his erection easing into her, bringing her silky panties along. “I’m going to be touching you a lot more in a minute.”
Oh, she liked playing these wicked, sexy games with Nick. It was unlike anything she’d ever done with anyone before, and Izzie sensed she could be happy playing bedroom games with him and only him for a very long time.
“But you still haven’t paid me.” She licked the side of his neck, biting lightly on his nape. Feeling the scrape of the bill against her skin, she pulled away just enough to watch him slip it into her panties. “Big tipper.”
“You’re worth every penny.”
“I think maybe you should get a little bonus for being such a good customer.”
She needed a little bonus herself. Needed to do something she’d been aching to do since she’d first seen him take off his pants in the back of the van.
Sliding back, she lowered herself to the floor, then moved between his thighs. She reached for his hand, covering it with hers, mimicking his slow, easy movements up and down his erection. Eventually she pushed his hand away, pleasuring him with her fingers and her palm. Encircling him as best she could, she slid down to the base of his shaft, then eased back up. She trailed her fingers across the thick, bulbous head to moisten them with his body’s juices, then repeated the motion.
But it wasn’t quite enough. Izzie inched forward, wetting her lips with her tongue.
“Iz...”
“Let me,” she murmured.
She didn’t wait for permission. Kneeling between his spread thighs, she drew closer, flicking out her tongue for a quick taste of the sac pulled up tight beneath his erection.
He jerked up, thrusting harder into her hand, which still encircled him. Izzie didn’t stop. Parting her fingers to make way for her mouth, she licked her way from the base of his shaft all the way up to its tip. “You taste so good, Nick,” she whispered before flicking her tongue out to catch more of that fluid dripping out of him.
“So do you.” Still sprawled out before her, he tangled his hands in her hair. “But I’m hungry. I want some, too.”
Mmm...mutual oral pleasure. She’d love to savor that experience with Nick. But for right now, she wanted to concentrate on him. So, ignoring his comment, she moved over the thick, pulsing head of his cock and took it into her mouth. As she sucked, he hissed. The deeper she went—taking as much as she could—the louder his groans.
Shifting around for better access, Izzie began to slowly make love to him with her mouth, getting off on hearing him get off. She slid up and down, taking more with every stroke, wanting to swallow him all the way down, though he was, of course, much too big for that. But she gave it her all, focused on his sounds of pleasure, the smell of sex rolling off his body, the feel of his hands delicately stroking her hair and the back of her head.
“Ride me, Izzie,” he whispered, not demanding but pleading. “Come up here and take me.”
Take him. Izzie had never had a man beg her using those words, though she, herself, had spoken them. She found herself liking the sensuous power of it. He didn’t just want her, he needed her. Was desperate for her.
With one last little suck, she pulled her mouth away and looked up at him. He was staring down at her, his dark brown eyes gleaming with want. Reaching for her shoulders, he began to tug her up and repeated his plea. “Take me, Izzie.”
Offering him a half smile, she rose to her knees. She was nearly naked, but Nick was still half wearing his clothes. So she reached for his waistband and pulled his pants and briefs down. He lifted up to help her, kicking his shoes off and his clothes with them. His shirt fell off his shoulders with a simple shrug, and now the tables were turned—she was the only one wearing a stitch of clothes.
It was, of course, a tiny stitch. And as she rose to her feet, Nick didn’t take his eyes off it. Reaching for her hips, he tugged her closer until he caught the elastic seam of her panties with his teeth. Nudging them down, he tasted her with two quick, heart-stopping flicks of his tongue. Her clit swelled against his lips. “Please,” she whispered, not knowing what she needed more—for him to lick her into an orgasm, or to tear her panties off and plunge down onto him.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he murmured, returning his mouth to her most sensitive spot. Taking her hips
in his hands, he pushed the panties down and nuzzled in deep in her curls.
Feeling a climax rocket through her, Izzie threw her head back and groaned. She was still groaning when Nick tugged her down over him. He glanced at his jeans. “My pocket...”
“We’re safe,” she assured him since she was on the pill. “As long as you’re comfortable with that.”
“Oh, I am so comfortable with that,” he muttered hoarsely. “I cannot wait to feel you wrapped around me, skin to skin.”
Straddling him, her toes on the floor, Izzie rubbed against him, loving the tangle of his chest hair on her rock-hard nipples. Nick dipped his head down to suck one of them, hard and demanding. “Ride me,” he ordered, his mouth still at her breast.
She eased onto him, taking the hot tip into her wet channel a little at a time. He was right—skin to skin was incredible. She could feel every beat of his pulse through his velvety smooth erection.
“Can’t...take much...” he said through choppy breaths.
As if he’d reached his breaking point, he squeezed her hips and thrust up, impaling her hard and deep. “Oh, Nick,” she groaned, shocked at the full intensity of it.
It took her a second to catch her breath, he filled her so deeply. But when she did, she had to move. Had to slide up and then ease back down. She rode with slow strokes, her arms on his shoulders, looking down into his face as he stared up into hers.
Nick lifted one hand and cupped her cheek, drawing her toward him. Covering her lips with his, he kissed her deeply, sliding his tongue in and out of her mouth in strokes matched by the ones deep inside her core.
The kiss went on and on, slowing or growing frenzied in mirror reactions to the movements of their bodies. Izzie rode him, took him as he’d demanded, using muscles she didn’t even remember she had to stretch out their pleasure.
Their position was perfect for pleasing her both inside and out. And within moments, the friction on her clit provided her with another mind-blowing orgasm.
Finally, though, her legs began to weaken. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take. As if he knew, Nick wrapped his arms around her, cupping her backside, and rose from the chair.
The strength of the man defied description.
Still buried deep within her, he continued kissing her as he walked the few steps to the bed. He dropped her on her back, coming down with her, and took over control.
“Yes, Nick,” she gasped, her legs around his lean hips.
He didn’t reply. He was gone now, mentally just gone, at the mercy of his wildly plunging body. Izzie held on for the ride, whispering frantic words of pleasure, telling him how much he pleased her.
Until she, too, was incapable of words. Together they lost themselves to the power of it until Nick shouted and came deep inside her, sending Izzie spiraling over the edge again, too.
* * *
BRIDGET HAD BEEN thinking about her cousin’s words nearly all night Thursday. So much so that she barely slept and climbed out of bed long before her alarm went off Friday morning.
If there was one thing Izzie knew, it was men. And if she thought Bridget hadn’t been sending out strong enough signals to Dean, she was probably right.
Izzie would make her interest more obvious.
So that’s what Bridget would do.
That morning, she dressed for work a bit more carefully than usual. Her regular workday attire was typically a pair of pastel capris or a pair of slacks and a blouse. Today, she shimmied into a yellow skirt that cupped her butt like she’d sat in a tub of butter. Pulling a tight white tank top on with it, she glanced in the mirror and was surprised at what she saw.
She didn’t look much like Bridget, the nice, smiling bookkeeper. In fact, she looked sexy. She had curves...nice ones. Her breasts were high and shapely, highlighted by the scooped neck of the tank top. And while she didn’t have especially long legs, they looked pretty good in the skirt.
Feeling almost armored for battle, she donned a lightweight sweater—which she intended to remove as soon as she saw her quarry—and headed to work. She wanted to get there early so she could get used to walking around the office in the minuscule skirt and high-heeled sandals without tripping and making a fool of herself.
Usually, she was the first one at the dealership, anyway. The lot didn’t open to customers until ten o’clock, with most of the sales staff showing up around nine...a half hour or so after her regular starting time. By the time she got to the lot, it was only seven-thirty, an hour early even for her.
The inside was dark, as expected, and as she entered, she reached for the switch to turn on the bank of overhead lights. But before she did it, something caught her eye...a sliver of light coming from beneath the door to the business office. Where she usually worked.
She supposed she could have forgotten to turn the light off last night when she left. But she was still cautious as she approached. This was a pretty safe area, but occasional robberies certainly weren’t unheard of. She wasn’t about to open the door and surprise some junkie looking for a petty cash box.
When she got to within a few feet of the nearly closed door, she heard a voice from inside. She tensed for the briefest second, then recognized the voice and relaxed.
It was Dean. He’d obviously shown up early for work. Though she didn’t hear whoever he was talking to, she figured someone else must have come in early, too.
Too bad. Had he been alone, she might have been able to put her “send stronger signals” plan into action. If, of course, she had the nerve, which was questionable.
Reaching for the knob, she paused when she heard Dean speak again, answering a question she hadn’t heard asked. That was when she realized the conversation was one-sided. He was talking on the phone to someone.
Not wanting to eavesdrop, she stepped away, catching only the snippet of a comment Dean made. Something about a deal going down. Sounded like their star salesman had landed another buyer—one who liked to close deals very early in the morning.
When she heard his voice stop, she figured she’d see if he was done, and knocked once on the door. Feeling a little foolish—since she was, in essence, knocking on her own office door—she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
“Good morning, early bird,” she said.
He jerked his head up, so surprised he dropped his cell phone right onto the floor near her feet.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” she said. Normally, she’d wait quietly and let him pick up the phone himself. But Izzie’s words kept ringing in her ears. So instead, she carefully bent at the knees, reaching down to pick it up for him. She kept one hand on her skirt, to hold it in place, but Bridget couldn’t deny that it slid up several inches, high on her thighs, despite that.
Still appearing shocked, Dean didn’t say a word. His narrowed eyes were locked on her thighs. His jaw was visibly clenched and he breathed over parted lips.
He looked...hungry. Just as she’d seen him look at her once or twice in the past. More than that, he seemed dangerous. Not nice Dean looking at a pair of woman’s legs, but wickedly sexy Dean looking at a pair of woman’s legs and imagining them wrapped around his waist.
She could do that. She could definitely do that. Whether it was what Izzie would do or not.
It is.
“Here you go,” she said, handing him the cell phone.
He took it from her, their fingers brushing lightly. Standing, he stuffed the phone in his pocket. His lean face looked weary, as if he hadn’t slept well.
“So, was it worth your early trip in?” she asked, knowing she sounded coy. She couldn’t help channeling Izzie a little bit. “Everything...satisfactory?”
His pale blue eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, did you get whatever deal you’re working on taken care of this morning?”
He nodded slowly. “The deal. Yeah. It’s all good.”
“Good. You might set another sales record this month.”
With a
casual manner she had never suspected she could pull off, she tossed her purse onto her desk, which was laden with files, legal paperwork and financial stuff. Holding on to her courage, she slipped her sweater off her shoulders. She had to move close to Dean—very close—to reach the coatrack on the wall. Her arm brushed against his as she lifted the sweater onto one of the hooks.
“Bridget...”
Smiling, she turned and glanced up at him. “Yes?”
He wasn’t looking at her face, his attention was focused lower. On the scooped neck of her tight spandex tank top. The heat in his stare warmed her all over and she felt her body reacting to it. A lazy river of want flowed through her veins. She clenched her thighs in response to it. But there was no way to disguise the way her breasts grew heavier, her nipples hardening to twin points that poked against her shirt.
He noticed. Most definitely.
Swallowing hard, he growled, “Why are you dressed like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trolling for men at a club rather than working with a bunch of used-car salesmen and wrench jockeys at an auto shop?” he asked, his tone harsh.
Bridget instinctively stepped back. A little hurt. A little confused. “I just...” Channel Izzie. WWID? Taking a deep breath, she tilted her head back and jutted her chin out. “What business is it of yours what I wear to work?”
He reached for her, grabbing her arm as if he couldn’t help himself. “Put your sweater back on.”
“Make me.”
His whole body tense with frustration, he lifted his other hand and grabbed her other arm. Bridget wasn’t sure what he was going to do—shake her or haul her into his arms and kiss her.
She was most definitely hoping for option two.
She should have been intimidated, maybe even scared given his size. But she already knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. He was attracted to her, she was sure of it now, and he just didn’t know what to do about that attraction since they were coworkers.
“Either take your hands off me or do something with them,” she snapped, still thinking the way her cousin would.