Bad Reputation

by Stefanie London

“Stand,” he said. She complied, and he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties. “Once these come off, I’m not going to hold back. I’m going to make you explode. Then I’m going to fuck you. Are you okay with that?”

  Her mouth hung open, slack with desire. Eyes blackened. “Yes.”

  “Good.” He pulled the elasticated waist of her underwear down over her hips and thighs, then down her calves until she could step out of them. “I’ve been dreaming about you, Remi. About having you like this.”

  “Here?”

  “Everywhere.” He helped her to sit up on the counter. “Anywhere.”

  “Tell me.”

  He splayed his hands at her thighs, pushing them open until her knees hit the counter. “I woke up this morning thinking I could taste you on my tongue and smell you on my sheets. But I had a hand full of my own cock and that was very disappointing.”

  “Oh God.” She whimpered when he slid his palms up to her sex, his thumbs drawing her open.

  “Beautiful.” He stuck one thumb into his mouth and then spread the moisture over her clit, brushing her in slow, even circles. “Everything about you, Remi. Perfection, inside and out.”

  “Wes,” she panted, her hips tilting forward. “That feels… Oh.”

  “I thought about you the first night I saw you. I imagined bending you over the barre and pulling that pretty pink leotard to one side so I could take you.”

  Remi’s head lolled back and the panting turned to long, keening moans. She fisted one hand in his shirt and wrapped the other around the edge of the counter, her hips grinding in time with the slow, sensual assault of his hand.

  “Get ready for me,” he growled, stroking his finger up and down the seam of her sex. A subtle sheen had developed across her forehead and nose, making her glow. Damn, the woman was a goddess. “Get ready, Remi.”

  He slipped a finger inside her, testing her before adding a second one and curling them toward himself.

  “Yes. There,” she gasped.

  Pleasure played like fireworks across her face, dynamic and vibrant. She hid nothing from him. Greedy, his eyes drank it in, gulping down every thrust of her hips, every pulse in her neck, every flutter of her lashes.

  “So close.” Her eyes clamped shut. “I’m so close.”

  Yes. Show me.

  As if hearing his silent command, a shudder ripped through her. The sound of her gasps bounced around in his head. He wanted to remember that sound forever.

  Every nerve in Wes’s body was alight and burning with need. He might be the one commanding her pleasure now, but she had him captive. Like she’d reached into his chest and wrapped her fist around his heart. And no matter how much he rationalized and wrote off his infatuation as a physical thing, deep down, he knew the physical wasn’t going to be enough.

  * * *

  The world filtered back to Remi slowly, as though someone was lifting the layers of a gauzy veil from her eyes. First, it was the beating of her heart, a sledgehammer-strength pounding against her rib cage. Then, the sound of breath whooshing out between her lips. Then her eyes fluttered open.

  Oh boy, the visual was even better than she could have imagined.

  Wes was looking at her like a feral animal eyeing a meal. His crystalline eyes were wild and otherworldly, his dark hair flopping over his forehead. Without thinking, she reached out and brushed it back, which earned her one hell of a crooked smile.

  Hold on to your hormones, girl.

  “Thought I lost you there for a minute,” he said.

  “No way. I’m not missing a second of this.”

  “You’re an all-in kind of woman, aren’t you?”

  “Hell yeah.” She trailed her hands down his chest until they snagged on the waistband of his pants. “If I decide to cross a line, I don’t just walk over it. I run, full-steam ahead.” She brushed her fingers down over the bulge in the front of his pants, feeling every ridge in his cock.

  Slow breath. There’s no need to be intimidated…

  But how could she not be? The whole world knew Wes first for what he was hiding in his pants. Or not hiding, as the case was now. The outline of his erection made her suck in a breath. Holy hell, he really was as big as people said.

  “You okay?” He swept her hair back over her shoulders, letting his knuckles trail across her skin.

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t be nervous.”

  “I’m not,” she lied.

  It wasn’t only the thought of whether the mechanics would work—was there such a thing as a guy who was too big? If she’d finally let herself give in to this temptation, to break the rules she’d set to protect herself, then a failure to launch would be a mammoth disappointment.

  No pun intended.

  Beyond that, her brain was already freaking out about tomorrow. How would she pretend she hadn’t seen this incredible man naked? What if it affected her dancing? What if he tired of her and she lost this opportunity? This lifeline?

  More importantly, what if this did nothing to quench her hunger?

  What if, what if, what if…?

  Dangerous words.

  “You’re thinking too much,” he said.

  “You’ve found my secret shame.” She tugged his pants down over his hips. Slowly, slowly. She wanted to draw it out. “Neuroses and an inability to relax.”

  “Clearly we need to find you a solution for that,” he said. “Another orgasm or two might help.”

  It certainly couldn’t hurt. Orgasms were never a bad thing, obviously. But Remi had found that many guys thought all climaxes were created equal. Like coming was some binary thing—either you did or you didn’t. End of story.

  Women knew the whole truth. An orgasm was good. But the ones that made your toes curl and your back arch like you were trying to snap your body in half were gold and, unfortunately, rare.

  And it appeared that Wes wasn’t the kind of guy who simply relied on the power of what was in his pants. He knew how to use all the tools at his disposal.

  Thank you, whoever is up there.

  “I like the way you think,” she said, pulling the fabric down all the way.

  A pair of black boxer briefs hugged his waist and thighs, showcasing a perfectly sculpted body. Wes toed off his shoes and discarded his sweats. His T-shirt followed, landing in a heap on the floor.

  Holy moly.

  If she hadn’t been intimidated before, then she sure as hell was now. The guy should have been cast in bronze and stuck in a museum. Broad shoulders balanced out well-muscled thighs, and a trim waist was defined by those V-shaped muscles that made her mouth water every damn time. Wes might not be training in the studio much these days, but he obviously did something to keep fit. A body like that did not exist without a reason.

  Perfection is never an accident, as her old ballet teacher used to say.

  He stood for a moment, waiting to see if she’d relieve him of his final piece of clothing. When she didn’t move, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and peeled them from his body.

  Sweet mother of…

  His cock bobbed back up against his stomach, thick and hard. He was every inch as described.

  “Eyes up here, sweetheart,” he teased, his finger pressing under her chin and tilting her face up.

  “I thought men liked it when their partners made a fuss over their size.” She aimed for a sassy tone to cover the excitement and embarrassment causing her cheeks to flame. But one look at Wes told her he wasn’t buying it.

  “Flattery is overrated.” A hand came down on either side of her hips, penning her in. “I’d rather hear you scream my name when I’ve got my mouth on you than have you stroke my ego.”

  She leaned back against the counter, resting on her palms. The way he loomed over her, casting a shadow with his frame, made her feel small a
nd vulnerable in the best way possible. It was easy to feel like there was no world outside this room when he looked at her like that, when he took charge of the space and filled it with simmering anticipation. Under his intense stare, she could forget about tomorrow. She could forget about all the mistakes she’d made up until now. Forget that perhaps this was the biggest mistake of all.

  “Too many people pumping up your ego?” She sighed when he pressed forward, his cock pressing against the inside of her thigh. “I can be mean if you want.”

  “You don’t have a mean bone in your body.” He chuckled against her neck, sending warm breath across her skin.

  Then his mouth came to hers. The kiss was sudden, like need had taken hold of him with brute force. His lips were firm, his tongue breaching her mouth and demanding she return the favor.

  Fisting her hands in his hair, she pulled him closer. He tasted of mint and something subtle, something slightly earthy. His hands were at her hips, at her thighs, biting into her skin as he dragged her legs around him. Entwining them.

  “Condom,” she gasped. As much as she hated to interrupt the moment their passion ignited, she wasn’t going to let her lady parts overrule her head where that was concerned.

  Wes broke free and found a foil packet inside his wallet. The sound of it tearing made her shiver, anticipation building at the base of her spine and spreading through her like a drug. She wanted to be full with him, wanted to feel their bodies melt into each other.

  “Hurry up,” she urged, and he was back between her legs in an instant. The head of his cock nudged her entrance.

  “You got somewhere to be?” A lazy smile drifted across his lips as he ran his hands up her sides and over her rib cage until he cupped her breasts. “Am I keeping you from something more important?”

  His thumbs flicked over her nipples at a leisurely pace. The damn man was taunting her.

  “I’ve got an episode of MasterChef to watch.” She tipped her nose up to him. Hot as Wes was, she wasn’t going to let him think he was in charge. This wasn’t work, as he’d said, which meant he wasn’t her boss right now. “So if you could get to it, that would be great.”

  She’d expected him to laugh, but instead, he pressed her farther back, sandwiching her between his hips and the counter. “Don’t make that mistake, Remi.”

  “What mistake?”

  “Thinking because I like to laugh that I’m a pushover in bed.”

  “We’re not in bed,” she teased. “Mr. Genial.”

  His eyes flared. Oh, that’s what he was talking about. That was the mistake.

  “Get off the counter and turn around,” he growled. “This is what happens when you push Mr. Genial to his limits.”

  The sound of his voice, low and rough and edgy, ripped through her. It was like pouring gasoline on a bonfire. Now she couldn’t control the flames. So she obeyed. Wes stepped back and watched, his eyes catching hers in the mirror surrounded by naked bulbs. It was like a dance. He’d taken the lead and now she had to follow.

  “Put your hands on the counter.”

  She pressed her palms down without breaking eye contact in the mirror.

  “Widen your legs.”

  Sucking in a breath, she stepped her feet farther apart.

  “Tilt that beautiful ass up to me.”

  Despite the fact that Remi wasn’t a wallflower, there was something bold about this scenario. The mirror, the gravelly commands, the lights all around them. Knowing that hundreds of performers had been standing in this exact spot touching up their makeup or fixing their hair made it seem illicit. Naughty.

  “That’s it,” he said softly, his hand coming to her lower back. “Perfect.”

  He smoothed his palm over her skin in slow circles, running over the dip at her waist and the flare of her hips. Over the curve of her butt and down the backs of her thighs. It was like he wanted to memorize her with his hands.

  “Don’t take your eyes off me,” he said as he lined himself up behind her. “I want to see every bit of pleasure on your face. I want to see those hungry eyes while I slip inside you. I want to watch your face when I make you come again.”

  Oh. My. God.

  “Yes,” she breathed.

  His fingers teased her entrance for a moment, warming her up, and then it was him. All of him. Holy moly.

  “Breathe, baby.” One hand smoothed up and down her spine as the other rested on her hip. “Don’t tense up.”

  How on earth am I supposed to relax when it feels like you’ve got a tree trunk back there?

  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quell the nerves bubbling up and killing her buzz.

  “Look at me,” he commanded.

  Her head snapped up, her gaze on his, and he gave her a cheeky smile. Never before had she thought a smile might melt her into a pile of goo, but Wes’s smile was it. Sexy, sweet, and crooked enough to land on the right side of perfect.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’m not going to do anything to hurt you.”

  “I believe you.”

  Mistake. This wasn’t supposed to be about trust or smiles or any of that shit. It was pure primal need. Sex. Nothing more.

  Her brain attempted to come up with a counterargument, but the second he pushed inside, the words evaporated. Everything was gone except for the feeling of fullness that sucked the air out of her lungs.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes fluttering shut for a second as he seated himself all the way inside her. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

  Remi fought the warning from her body that it was too much. After a few long breaths with them just standing there—joined and unmoving—she started to adjust. Her body molded to his, accommodating his size. Then the sharp sting turned into another kind of burning sensation. Something liquid and hot and addictive.

  “Wes,” she gasped, moving her hips back and forth. “Please. We’ve waited long enough.”

  He came forward on his hands, lining her back with his chest. Hot breath blew against her ear and his hair tickled her temple.

  “Tell me if you need to stop or slow down, okay? I want you to feel good.”

  She nodded, swallowing at the sensation shooting through her at only the slightest movement of his hips. It was like every nerve ending in her body had been put through the ringer. The soft brush of his hands left flames in their wake.

  Wes reached for the hair band holding her ponytail in place and pulled it free, so her hair fell around her shoulders, sending goose bumps skittering over her sensitized skin.

  “More,” she demanded. “Faster.”

  “Patience.” He nipped at her ear, slowly pumping in and out of her. “If you think I’m going to rush through this, you’re mistaken.”

  “But I need…”

  What did she need? Bloody hell. She didn’t even know anymore. The slow fucking, full eye contact in the mirror, him winding her hair around his fist—it was everything. He gave her hair a soft tug, causing her head to come back against his chest.

  “Tell me,” he growled.

  “Don’t hold back.” She arched her back as he drove deep. “I can take it. I want it.”

  “That all?”

  “I want you, Wes. Just you.”

  The sound that erupted from him was barely human. Knowing that she was driving him as crazy as he was driving her pushed her right to the edge. They were partners. Equals. They stirred up feelings that shouldn’t be there.

  “I want you too, Remi.”

  When he pushed back into her, the sensation was electric. The counter rattled as he thrust into her, but clinking glass didn’t slow them down. Nothing mattered except them. Except pure feeling.

  “Remi.” Wes swore under his breath. “Touch yourself.”

  Yes. She reached down, her fingers working instantly to crank her pleasure up. Orga
sm hit her hard and fast, her body trembling around his.

  His moan cut off into a sharp grunt as he buried himself deep inside her with a final thrust.

  Silence settled over them, and a thud came from inside the theater. “Do you think we frightened Alfred?” he said, burying his face into her hair.

  “I’m less worried about Alfred and more worried about the entire city of Manhattan.” She leaned her head back against his shoulder. “Pretty sure I came hard enough to rattle the foundations of this building.”

  “It was goddamn hot, let me tell you.” He watched her in the mirror, cheeks flushed pink and her hair falling around her face. “Come back to my place. I want round two in a proper bed.”

  “Round two?” Her eyes met his in the mirror. “I like the sound of that.”

  Chapter 17

  “Some things really are too good to be true. It’s not cynical—it’s a necessary protection.”

  —MisguidedInManhattan

  This time around, having Remi showering in his apartment was done right. Meaning he had her pinned against the tiles, his hands full of her ass while he plundered her mouth. Warm water streamed over them both, melting him into her. His cock was hard against the inside of her thigh, but he was going to stay true to his word.

  Round two would happen in a proper bed. This was simply a warm-up.

  Her head lolled back against the titles, exposing the length of her neck to his mouth. “I thought we were supposed to be freshening up.”

  He slipped his hand between her legs. “You don’t feel fresh?”

  A soft, little grunt escaped her lips as her hips rolled against his hand. “No, fresh is not how I would describe it.”

  He chuckled. Remi was right about one thing—the second she decided to cross a line, she practically flung herself over it. How had she put it? If you’re going to do the wrong thing, may as well enjoy it?

  So true.

  “How about clean, then?” He sucked on the side of her neck.

  “This is anything but clean.” She looked up, her eyes full of mischief. “And you know it.”

  Water droplets clung to her lashes and the edges of her full lips, making her look like a water sprite. “Okay, you got me. Guilty as charged.”