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Love TKO

Page 5

by Selene Chardou

“Yes. I just had a test yesterday and my results were a clean bill of health,” she answered, not the least bit put out by his question.

  “Just asking because I am allergic to latex and I use lambskin condoms. They protect against pregnancy but not STDs.”

  This was in fact a lie. He wanted to feel as much as he could of this gorgeous woman and he used lambskin condoms when he’d bothered to have a girlfriend, which wasn’t often. He was taking a major gamble here because this woman wasn’t his girlfriend and this was the first time they were having sex but he wanted the barrier between them to be as thin and as uninhibited as possible. It was the closest thing to sex without anything on his dick but nothing could tempt him to go there, not unless she was his fiancée or wife.

  Chiara sat up and took the condom from him before she tore it open with her teeth and removed it before she expertly rolled it over his length. He was hard as a proverbial rock again after the whole orgasm incident and ready to go for a lengthy round two. One that involved a lot more body contact and skin against skin.

  She didn’t know how he was going to approach her until he pulled her to the edge of the bed before he stood up. He spread her legs wide and entered her with one swift move and he felt her stretch to accommodate his length and girth.

  “Oh, Torin.”

  His name on her lips was pure heaven and he could have come from the sound of it alone. He began to move within her slow and steady. The barrier between them was thinner and he could feel every movement of her pussy clenching and milking his cock for all it was worth. She wanted him to come but at the same time, she truly was enjoying herself.

  She didn’t bother to look at him as her eyes closed and she concentrated on the efforts of him moving inside her and her hips keeping up with the rhythm he’d decided for them.

  “Fuck, Chiara,” he whispered and sped up his thrusts just a bit. If he pounded her, he would surely come and that was the last thing he wanted to happen at that moment. Not when it was so good and there was so much he wanted to do with her.

  He wanted to feel her sweat on his skin and her tits pressed against his chest. He knew if he’d approached her like that from the beginning, he would come too soon.

  Torin couldn’t take the tension anymore and something within him broke like the levees during Hurricane Katrina, only he was the driving force—the wind, the rain, the unbearable dark flood.

  He pushed her onto the bed, higher until she was in the middle and he crawled between her silky thighs. The heat of her body was missed for those few moments but as soon as he arranged her perfectly, he entered her slippery pussy and pushed himself inside her all the way to the hilt.

  She moved beneath him, all instincts and gyrating hips as he claimed her lips against his own again and felt her stir beneath him. They joined in a tangle of body parts and warm skin, the sensation driving him as deep as the feeling of her itself. If he could understand what it was about this woman that had him so crazed with desire, it would make their coupling that much more complete but the mystery surrounding her beautiful body was like a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

  His brain turned into jelly and all he wanted was to be fused with her until the end of time. The logic made no sense because he’d never felt this way about another human being but somehow, somewhere, the lust for her was slowly turning into what other people would classify as love and that scared him more than anything.

  He wanted to stop but he couldn’t.

  Torin needed to put the brakes on the tumult of feelings seizing his body and mixing sex with love but he wanted it just the same.

  He loved her and hated himself at the same time for falling, falling so deeply for a woman he didn’t know, a woman he’d just met.

  Her only hold on him was a tight snatch, loose limbs and the desire for him to make her his own and that was all he should have held on to but he felt something so much deeper.

  He needed to come and be done with it so he could send her home in a taxi and forget all about this night. It would be a lingering memory he would hold on to on solitary nights when he was so lonely, his heart ached and he scared himself for being so weak as to crave another human being more than just for sex.

  That was all right with him but what was not okay were the emotions, the physical and spiritual ache she would leave him with when they were through. Damn this fucking woman with her gorgeous brown eyes, coy smile and rapturous body enslaving him to her.

  It was only supposed to be one night, and yet, he knew he wouldn’t be able to let go, not fully. It drove him to the brink of insanity, being with her, being inside her and knowing she could manipulate him like a marionette on a string.

  There was that moment where their bodies—skin on skin, Torin thrusting inside her when the room began to spin and they were in a perfect apex of feelings, being and the moment itself. Their orgasms seemed to happen simultaneously with her falling over the edge of the cliff first and then he followed her and it was a beautiful moment they shared. At least he could hold onto this exact time and memory in his life if he never glanced at her gorgeous face again.

  He sealed their togetherness with a deep, soul-stealing kiss, trying to take just one thing from her to keep him going when he was buried in countless other bodies having meaningless sex that he’d forget shortly after he busted a nut.

  Torin settled in on his side of the bed and wrapped his arms around her. He buried his head in her neck and inhaled for the umpteenth time. He would never forget her alluring scent that was so seductive and yet innocent at the same time though there was nothing like that in those gorgeous amber eyes, which were hidden from him at this time.

  “You’ve completely got me sprung. How the hell am I gonna let you go?”

  “That’s called post-coital bliss.” Chiara turned toward him. “By the way, your condom covered cock is digging into my ass. I would suggest a change if that is how you like to flow, and want to go that route.”

  He could feel his face heat up before he removed the used condom and tossed it in the trash. He embraced her, skin-to-skin, again.

  “It’s not that I don’t like anal sex but I am not ready for that between us…yet.”

  “Well, let me know when the feeling strikes you since we only have tonight together.”

  Torin ignored Chiara’s sarcasm. “Just answer one question for me: did you come?”

  She laughed in a low, throaty way that made his cock twitch. “Well, if you have to ask then you already know the answer. Usually it means no.”

  There was a deadly silence between the two of them before Chiara turned over to face him. Her body, pressed against his own, was extremely tempting. He felt his eyelids grow heavy but maybe he could go another round.

  “Yes, I came…multiple times. Congrats, your bedroom skills are as impressive as your fighting.”

  “I’ll send you tickets to my next match if you tell me where you live.”

  He didn’t say that, did he?

  “I don’t tell random strangers I sleep with where I live. Not even if they make me orgasm several times. Sorry.” Chiara reached over and kissed him on his lips. “But I will leave my phone number. If you’re really serious, maybe I will be graced by a phone call.”

  “I thought we agreed it would be the one night.”

  “What do you know? Sometimes I break my own fucking rules. Does this feel like a one night stand to you?”

  “Well if you have to ask then you already know the answer,” he murmured, repeating her earlier words. “But to answer your question, no, it doesn’t. You’re the first woman I have wanted to fall asleep with in a long time and that is saying a lot.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Hell yeah. Most of the time, I just want them to put their clothes back on and get movin’ but I wanna hold you all night.”

  “I want to spend all night in your arms too.”

  “Then it’s settled.” Torin held her to him and allowed his eyes to close.

  For
the first time in a long time, he couldn’t wait to wake up so they could make love again and he would cook her breakfast before she left and disappeared from his life forever.

  Every smart guy worth his grain of salt knew women never gave strange men their real phone number.

  Chapter Four

  Chiara

  I KNEW IF I stayed until he woke up, it would be a huge mistake on my part.

  It wasn’t like I was some vestal virgin; I’d been around the block and then some. Hell, I’d been in this shitty fucking profession for almost ten years but even I was human and capable of mistakes.

  I’d gone and fallen into major, heartbreaking, this-could-lead-nowhere lust with a fucking client and that was unacceptable.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  Yes, he was the Torin Duffy, prized MMA fighter, and a man who could fuck like a champ but still treated me like a lady afterwards. However, in the end, he was just another goddamn john and I’d forgotten the golden rules.

  Never ever let my feelings complicate a situation and if they ever did, walk away.

  I had to get gone real quick.

  Before he awoke and wanted to pick up where we left off once daylight came and then did something ultra-cheesy like make me breakfast or some such shit.

  Still, I was a woman of my word and left my phone number scribbled on a piece of paper on the night stand next to his sleeping form. Disengaging myself from him had been easy for my body—I did yoga, Pilates and salsa danced with a professional partner to keep in shape—but my mind and heart had different plans.

  I continued to double guess myself and my decision to leave my phone number at all yet my heart told me it was innately the right thing to do. I wanted him to call me and I didn’t want this to be a one night stand between us.

  Our bodies felt something even if we choose to ignore it and I didn’t give that lithe construction, which made grown men crumble, an ounce of sympathy. I would get over it and the multiple orgasms he’d coaxed from my body. It wasn’t fair. Usually my limbs obeyed me, my clit never responded, except to battery stimulation and if a guy couldn’t make me come then I’d never feel anything for him.

  One could tell so much about a man from his bedroom skills and this one was not only talented but selfish with whom he shared both his gifts and affection. He thought I’d been special enough to share his talents with me. I should have been flattered but in the back of the mind, I knew it was only because he thought I was just a beautiful woman he’d fallen into instant lust with instead of a whore.

  If he knew my true profession, he wouldn’t have cared about my pleasure.

  It would have been easier if he had treated me like a common prostitute. I wouldn’t have anything to go home and pine for, knowing he would never call me because he would assume I’d given him a wrong number.

  Despite him being the great Torin Duffy, he didn’t think he was above a woman giving him a fake phone number though I had never done anything of the sort. Repeat clientele was my bread and butter but he didn’t know the real me therefore he wouldn’t know that.

  Oh well, I thought, I’d always have the memories of tonight to carry me from gig to gig where men used and abused me and didn’t give a fuck about whether I got any pleasure from our dirty liaison.

  After all, they were paying me to service them; my own feelings were pushed out of the way and were of no consequence.

  I was okay with that and had been for over nine years and change until Torin entered my life and now I wasn’t fine with anything at all.

  I didn’t want to be in this profession anymore.

  I was tied and bound by a contract that didn’t expire until my twenty-eighth birthday and that was five months away.

  Fate loved to fuck with us and throw a monkey wrench in our plans.

  Life is what happened to us while we were busy making plans and my life had suddenly bitch slapped me before swinging a punch that would rival Mike Tyson in his prime.

  I slipped into my dress and tried to not think much about the warmth and the arms of the gorgeous man I was leaving in bed while I zipped myself up.

  It couldn’t have meant that much. We only had one crummy night and yes, we were extremely sexually compatible. More than any other man I’d ever slept with but that couldn’t have been a complete anomaly. There had to be other guys I could share that same sexual compatibility with out there in the real world.

  I didn’t believe in one true love; my profession had kind of ruined my whole Prince Charming fantasy. And whores who thought one of their clients was going to sweep them of their feet had watched Pretty Woman one too many times. The reality was there wasn’t a Richard Gere that existed, and if he did, he was a kinky billionaire who was looking for a mistress and nothing else.

  My mother had lucked out but she was also smart. She’d cultivated her relationship with her Swiss businessman for years and I still don’t think he knew she was a whore. I think he thought she was a hostess or something. No man worth his grain of salt would want to bring a woman like us home to meet their family, no matter how well spoken and cultured we were.

  I knew everything about art, history, fine wines and the best caviars but my mouth was used more for blow jobs than making interesting conversation. The fact that Torin had treated me like some precious piece of platinum was a great ego boost but underneath it all, I knew what I was and realized if he knew the truth, he wouldn’t want me any longer.

  I didn’t slip on my shoes until I’d walked down the stairs and had called a taxi. As soon as the cab pulled up, I opened the door and closed it behind me, slipped on my dangerously high heels and ran to the awaiting vehicle.

  “Where to?” the taxi driver asked with a strong Eastern European accent.

  “Four-twenty-five Fern Hill Drive. It’s in Aliante in North Las Vegas.”

  “No worries, dear, I have GPS.” He typed in the address and the mechanical female voice led us out of Torin’s extremely confusing community. There was a golf course, tennis courts and a gym in the housing development community and we passed it all as he drove us toward the exit.

  “How did you remember what the gate code was?” The driver asked me casually.

  “I have a good memory,” I replied before I began to look out of the window and didn’t breathe deeply until we’d left the exclusive community and the taxi driver got onto Summerlin Parkway heading west. I knew him getting on I-215 heading north was the long way around to Aliante but I couldn’t give two shits at that moment.

  My mind was still in the post-coital bliss of Torin’s rough hands all over my body. They’d made me tingle and my skin felt better than the best ninety minute massage I’d ever had. His fingers were magic and spoke their own language and my body was a country he’d had to memorize before he could let me go.

  It was a beautiful thought though the poetic imagery wasn’t usually my forte.

  He was ruining me for future clients.

  I would withdraw even further and the whole point of paying a minimum of ten thousand dollars for a woman was that she would be fully animated, not act like a drugged up fifty dollar strawberry that one had picked up from downtown the motels that charged by the hour.

  Fuck Torin and his fucking perfect body and his lovemaking techniques and making me have orgasms my body didn’t need to experience until I was firmly ensconced in France. I wouldn’t be a whore then and I could find a decent man. But first I would regale him with my knowledge of French and my intelligence when it came to politics, sports, and world history.

  He wasn’t supposed to be the man for me and I’d known from the moment he talked to me, I would regret it. He should have gone home with someone else and I could’ve handled his brother, Kieran.

  I watched the traffic but the lights blurred as my eyes filled with tears before they fell down my cheeks. I couldn’t handle the stimulation overload and the feelings that were assaulting my body. I almost wished he had taken me against my will. I could handle anger a l
ot better than these cheesy endorphins that flooded my body with stars and unrealistic expectations that would never happen.

  I was a stupid little girl caught in the worst stage of arrested development, and perhaps that’s what I was really crying over. How could have I allowed a few gentle strokes against my body and a man with magic fingers to change the way I felt about my profession?

  Please, you know you would love if he called you his “bitch.” You’re a stupid cunt just like your mother, and in the end, you think you’re going to end up like her.

  Yeah, that would be nice. I’d seen Pretty Woman one time too many and still, underneath all my fucked up cynicism, I still had that feeling that one day a man would look past my sins and the way I’d earned my money and think I was worthy.

  Hell, I didn’t even look like a whore and no one would know because all my clients were married—with the exception of a few—and they were too famous to admit they paid for pussy.

  Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal and I could just pull one of my mother’s old tricks. I didn’t have to tell Torin I was a whore; he’d never find out and perhaps we could have a few fun nights before my bubble burst and reality crashed in to destroy all my petty little dreams.

  I AWOKE LATE the same day and although my whole body was sore, it was a good feeling. I knew everything I’d done the night before had made me feel great and I’d had three or maybe four orgasms. I wouldn’t need my battery-operated friends for at least a week.

  It was a bittersweet day though because I had to make a compulsory visit to my sister. I hadn’t seen her or the kids come by though they might have paid me a visit while I was working. The past week had been crazy and the older I got, the busier I became.

  Half the time, I didn’t even sleep with clients anymore or they were “two minute men” who wanted conversation more than anything. I was beautiful, cultured and downright “mature” for my profession. I wasn’t fresh-faced like Yvanka or Alexis because I didn’t possess their youth.

 

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