by Jayce, Aven
“Home. I like the sound of that.”
I place our dry clothes from the pool on our suitcases and take off my yoga pants that are wet from my chlorine soaked underwear. Cove’s fleece pants are also damp and he passes them to me to hang in the bathroom to dry. The t-shirt I had on earlier is in here and I put it on as a nightshirt. When I return to the bedroom he’s sprawled out on the bed, head propped up by two pillows, a pillow under his foot, TV remote in hand, Scotch in the other, and naked.
“God, what a sight,” I grin, and crawl onto the bed next to him. “You look comfortable.”
“Very,” he says, changing the channels.
“I couldn’t get that thing to work the other day.”
“You have to take it off security mode and put it on home. There’s a code.”
“What is it?”
“Most of us use our birthdays, for the doors as well. That’s how Paul knows who’s coming and going from the house. Every time someone uses the keypad it shows up immediately on his phone. Currently, it’s only set for Dayne, Doron, Trey, Carl, and a few others.”
“So my father uses his birthday too?”
“I highly doubt it. Just the main people who come and go from the house, but this is his house, so no, I’d be surprised if he uses his birthday. When I was living here I always tried to get Dayne and Doron to slip up and tell me when they were born; their astrological sign, how old they were, anything. Even when they were wasted I couldn’t get it out of them.”
“When did you live here?”
“When I was eighteen. After my father was sent to prison. I was in here for six months. One; as punishment, two; as a way for him to keep a close eye on me after everyone in the business had to go through the court case, and three; as a way to control my mother. He had her son so it ensured she wasn’t going to pull any tricks as revenge. It was a way to keep her in her place.”
“You know, the more you tell me about my father, the more I can’t believe that no one has killed him yet.”
Cove sighs, takes a drink of Scotch and sets it on the bed between us. I pick it up and place it on the end table, then lie next to him and watch the channel menu scroll on the screen.
“There’s a Jameson channel?” I say, and point at the screen.
“Two. One’s a streaming live cam from various locations, and the other’s a movie channel. It’s free from the house, but everyone else in the Vegas area needs to subscribe. Like the Playboy channel, only it’s local.”
“Oh. Let me see what’s on it.”
“No, Soph. The Redskins are playing the Vikings tonight. I’ve been dealing with porn all day and need to get it out of my head.”
“I know, I’m sorry. Just curious.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to see it. Especially if we’re on the screen.”
“What… the live cam?”
“I’d say the plane video will probably be out today, especially if the party tomorrow night is for us.”
“Won’t it be online and not on cable?”
“Don’t know,” he shrugs. “That’s up to Paul. It could be aired locally since the party tomorrow will most likely be for his clients in the area.”
“Hmph.”
“Don’t think about it, Soph. That’s why I have football on.”
“Your erection’s gone.”
He looks at me with a smile. “Again, I have football on. Guys in helmets and cleats running around on a field usually don’t turn me on, but you naked in the pool does.”
I slide down the bed and crawl between his legs. He opens them wide and I kiss my way up to his balls. He moans as I flick my tongue across them, and then caress his sac in my hand. His cock jerks and then grows back to its stiff, massive length. I kiss the tip, and then fall back next to him, placing my arm over his chest.
“You tease.”
“Just checking to make sure everything’s still in order down there.”
“Am I good?”
“Yup, you’re good. Now let’s watch the game.”
He takes my hand and gives it a light kiss before holding it tight against his heart. I smile and relax, adoring him and this moment.
“Love you, Soph,” he whispers, in a calm and passionate voice as he turns up the volume to the flat screen. It drowns out the other sounds around the house. The laughter and moans from down the hall, the shrieks and splashing from just outside the bedroom window, and the memories from the day still fresh in our minds.
Yes… I like football.
CHAPTER SIX
Paul leans against his desk and places his index finger over his lips. He smiles admiringly at Devery’s long, sinewy legs prominently displayed from her brown skirt, just begging to be touched. She’s seated before him in his office, pale, thin, and probably hasn’t been laid in years. He thinks back to the last time he fucked her, the last time she cried out his name. It was the night of Lydia’s bachelorette party, nine years ago, when he took his time with her, spread her wide, and rode her from behind. He wonders if that was the last time she felt a man pound into her, the last time she enjoyed the pleasure of a stiff cock. His eyes travel to her chest and he recalls that her tits are like those of a blossoming sixteen-year-old; small and perky, they fit perfectly in his hand. He does nothing to hide the obvious growing erection under his black silk robe. Devery eyes it and smiles. She stands, places her small red purse next to him on the desk then unties the belt to his robe. Her fingernails dig into his chest and she scores his flesh from his nipples down to his cock. She knows he loves that feeling across his skin. In an abrupt move he clutches the back of her head and wraps her hair around his hand. He grins and guides her head to his waist.
“Suck me,” he directs. “Put that small mouth of yours over my dick and suck.”
He watches the top of her head dip and feels her tongue begin to lick and swirl. Her head is turned and jerked by Paul’s strong hand. She gags and he laughs. She hears the click of his lighter and can smell cigar smoke in the air. Her allergies immediately erupt, her eyes water, and she fights back an impending sneeze. He won’t let go of her head; forcing her against him, pushing her mouth open wide. She crinkles her nose in an attempt to halt the smoke from entering her nasal cavity.
Too late. She inhales deep and bites down as the sneeze forces its way through her dominated mouth.
“Fuck!” Paul clutches the bottom of her chin. “Open your fucking mouth.”
Her chin drops and he pulls out. “You fucking… I can’t believe you just bit my dick. What the fuck, Dev,” he growls, flicking his cigar into an ashtray. “Stand up.”
She stands and he smacks her across the face. Her hand touches her cheek over the mark and her mouth drops open. Paul grasps her chin again and looks into her eyes.
“Pain for pain. Remember that.”
He heads to his office door, locks the deadbolt, and drops out of his robe.
“Strip for me. Take off that rigid librarian clothing so I can fuck you.”
She forces a smile. She can do this. For Leondra and her family, and everyone who’s been harmed by Paul, she can perform.
He watches her unbutton her rayon white blouse. It slides off her arms and to the floor. She tugs the elastic band of her skirt below her hips and it gathers in a pile around her ankles. Her white slip is next. She steps away from the mound of cheap clothing on the floor and reaches to unleash the thin strap of her two-inch heel.
“Leave it. Keep the heels on.”
She straightens her back and projects her left hip out at an awkward attempt to look sexy. His eyes travel up and down her body and his fingers circle his lips again, but this time it’s to hide the obvious smirk on his face. She’s clearly uncomfortable, with her body, and his presence.
“Fuck, Dev. Look at you. Fucking white bra and underwear, like a fucking old lady. What are you doing here? Did you come to get laid, or to cook me a nice homemade macaroni and cheese dinner? Jesus.”
She straightens her body and her hands
cross to cover her underwear. “You know I’m not good at this,” she whispers.
He exhales, rolls his eyes, and shakes his head. “You need to clean yourself up a little. I know you make good money with your practice, go out and buy some nice things, you might just get a date now and then if you do.”
She looks at the floor and nods.
“Why are you here, anyway?”
“I’m spending the weekend with Doron and his wife. It’s her birthday you know.”
“Hmph, nope. Didn’t know that.”
“Paul, you should really pay attention to some of the people around you, like your daughter.”
“My daughter’s just fine and you know it,” he roars and darts to his desktop. He types something into the keyboard and turns the screen for her to view. It’s the bedroom suite down the hall. Cove’s sprawled out, naked, with a bottle in one hand and his arm wrapped around Sophia. Her legs are curled around his and they’re watching football. “She’s fine. I thought Dayne called to let you know she and Cove are just visiting with me for the week, exploring the city. Didn’t he explain anything to you?”
She nods. “He did. I just meant that you spend your days at the casino office, and then hole up in this office each night. Maybe you should devote some time to her while she’s here.”
“How the fuck do you know how I spend my days?” he seethes.
“Doron,” she whispers. “He’s worried about you.”
“Is that right?” Paul grins. He walks around the desk and over to her, places his hands behind her back, and takes off her bra. He cups her small breast and presses his waist against hers. “Did you see your little brother today?”
“I had dinner with him and his wife before I came over.”
“So you’re visiting family, but you couldn’t stay away from my dick? How badly do you want it?”
“Paul,” she says in a soft voice. Her cheeks blush and she tries to cover her breasts, only to have her arm seized and pulled behind her back. “Don’t embarrass me.”
“I’m trying to teach you a little something about pleasure. Have some confidence in yourself. How can you be so fucking strong in that business of yours, but so weak in bed?” He takes his hand from behind her head and glides it down to her pussy. Her eyes widen as he slips deep inside of her. “Fuck. You’re so tight my fingers don’t even fit inside of you. My dick’s gonna rip you apart. When was the last time anyone fucked you?”
She exhales; his rough fingers enthusiastically go wild in her space. She doesn’t want this, not from him, but it’s too late… she’s going to do it.
“You were the last person I was with,” she whispers.
“Jesus.” He slides his fingers out and leads her up the side stairwell to his private room. The door is locked and he types a code in the keypad. The door opens into a large bedroom with vaulted ceilings and two skylights over the bed. It’s dark. The walls, furniture, bedding, floor and throw rugs, all dark grey or black. A few gold and navy items with coordinated fabric add a distinct accent to the rest of the shadowy space. It’s cold and she smells desert sage; a very manly scent and once again, her nose begins to twitch. His closet door is open and she sees a line of suits and pressed dress shirts, along with a towering column of shoes lining the back wall. To the opposite side of the room is a gold and black washroom, similar to the one she’s seen on the ground floor, and a closed door next to that. She’s never been in his room, and the last time she was here they only made it part way up the stairs before he held her down and did her doggy style. She was counting on this, on being in this room, out of the office.
“Take off your underwear and lay down,” he demands. “Pull your knees to your chest so I can look at you.”
She obeys without hesitation, on the bed and swiftly in position in a matter of seconds. Paul laughs and places his foot on the bed next to her ass.
“Can’t wait, can ya?” he asks, as he tugs at his dick. Devery watches it grow in his hand until it’s back to its enormous size. She’s only been with a handful of men, and Paul has them all beat in terms of mass and longevity. He jerks off above her pussy while looking into her eyes. “You ready for me?” he asks as he reaches for the drawer of the nightstand and pulls out a condom.
“No,” Devery replies.
“What do you mean, no? You can’t fucking back out on me. I hate it when women do that shit.”
Devery laughs and shakes her head. “Paul, you know I’m allergic to latex.”
“You’re fucking allergic to everything,” he moans. “So what, you wanna get laid or not?”
She sits up and places a hand to his chest. “Let me run down and get my diaphragm from my purse.”
“They make non-latex diaphragms, and you just happen to have one with you, even though you never fuck anyone?”
“Paul,” she says in a scolding tone as she pushes past him. He falls to the bed and puts his arm behind his head. “They last two years. I always have one just in case. I can’t have sex without it.”
“Well hurry the fuck up.”
She races down the stairs and opens her purse, pulls out a flash drive and places it in the back of his Mac. Come on, come on. Finally, it opens and she frantically scans all of the folders on his desktop. Where is it… where is it? Quick.
“Dev! What the fuck, get up here.”
She hears him stand and walk toward the stairs.
There. She hurriedly drops a folder into one of his and watches the download bar slowly move across the screen. Twenty percent, fifty, eight-five… done. She ejects her drive and pulls it out as Paul’s feet appear on the stairs. She rapidly walks around the desk, throws the drive into her purse, and pulls out her diaphragm.
“I got it,” she says, rushing over to the stairs with the birth control in hand.
Paul reaches the bottom, grabs her arm, and leads her to one of the leather office chairs in front of his desk. He pushes her against the back of the chair and pulls her hand down to her opening.
“Put it in. I’m not waiting any longer.”
“God, you’re so romantic, Paul.”
He laughs and kicks her legs apart as she positions the diaphragm with two fingers.
“I hate to fuck women without a condom, but since my dick was the last to be inside of you, I’ll make an exception.” He licks his fingers and swipes her inner lips. “Nine fucking years, Dev? I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
Her head and upper body are forced over the chair and her palms meet the leather cushion. She supports herself and waits.
“You know,” Paul whispers as he slowly nudges his crown into her. She grips the cushion and takes a deep breath. “My fraternity brothers were so damn proud of me that time I broke a virgin. I was a God in that house for weeks. You gave me that power,” he groans, now halfway in. “They took the sheet that had some blood on it and hung it in the living room for all to marvel at.”
Devery takes another breath. She wants to kill him. If she had a gun right now she’d shoot him.
He’s in.
“You feel that, Dev? It’s like your first time with me. You’re so fucking tight I feel like I’m breaking you all over again.”
Fucking Paul Jameson.
He glides out quick and pushes hard back inside. Devery cries out and he laughs. “God, I love it. Yell all you want. It makes me cum faster when I know my dick is so big it causes pain. Turns me on,” he mutters.
Devery raises her head and stares at the desk. She focuses on her purse and knows she can get through this. The flash drive is tucked inside and the hard part is over, now she just needs to pretend to enjoy the fuck, get Paul to cum, and then she can leave. She gazes at the purse, her body under attack and propelled forward with each stab. Her head bobs and the red purse blurs in-and-out before her eyes. Focus, Devery. Concentrate on something other than what’s happening. An evening in a room with Paul is nothing compared to Cove Everton spending the past seven years in prison, away from his wife and son.
&
nbsp; “Fuck, you need to loosen up.” He pulls out, walks around his desk, and takes a bottle of lube out of a drawer. Devery sees the glow from his desktop reflected in his eyes. He stares at the screen for a moment then back at her. She stands as he moves toward her, his fingers covered in slick liquid. He stops in front of her, their eyes inches apart, and he slides his fingers inside. “Tell me, Dev,” he whispers, his eyes dark and sinister. “Why the fuck is my computer on? It should be in sleep mode by now.”
“I must have woken it when I got my diaphragm. Maybe I knocked it by mistake.”
“Oh yeah?” he says in a soft voice, placing his lips on hers as his fingers are replaced with his dick. “You’re not fucking with me, are you?” His voice is disturbingly calm as Devery’s heart pounds against her chest.
“No, Paul. I’m not.”
He smiles and takes her neck in his hand. She feels a light squeeze and watches his body dominate hers. He powers into her, his eyes look like black ice, his chest tight with red nail marks still embedded in him. “So if I go through my files over the weekend, I won’t find anything strange or out of place on there, right?”
“Paul,” Devery says in her sweetest voice. “Stop playing around and give me what I came for,” she smiles.
He sits in one of the desk chairs, leans back, grabs her ass, and forces her to ride him. She takes him, all of him, as he hammers into her with aggression. Her breasts are clenched and pinched by his fingers and she shouts his name in pain. She closes her eyes and takes the punishment, still pretending to enjoy the moment. He lasts forever. She remembers that. She waits… five minutes… then ten… she needs this to end.
“I won’t cum until I see an orgasm on your face. That’s why you’re here, now do it,” he demands.
Devery focuses. She knows the only way she’ll be able to finish is if she pleasures herself, but she doesn’t want to offend him. She opens her eyes and runs her hands down his chest to his groin. She continues to ride him and places two fingers over her clit.
“That’s it. Use that hand anyway you have to and do it.”
Her fingers move quickly. She closes her eyes and thinks about a man in her building back in St. Louis. Someone she’s wanted to be with for years. She’ll have to fantasize to get through this. He’s the one inside of her, not Paul. It’s his voice that she hears, his hands, his breath, and his cologne. He’s beautiful. She needs him. “Ohhhh,” she moans, her fingers racing across her clit.