Wicked

by KB Winters

  The last time I did something stupid, I lived to regret it. Twice. Nope, this time I’d be smart. Reasonable. And like a smart, reasonable employee, I changed my shirt and grabbed my bag, but the sound of the shower spray around the corner called to me like a siren’s song and I peeked to see who was still here.

  Except it wasn’t a siren, it was something better. Much, much better. It was Saint, naked as the day he was born with soap and water highlighting all the dips and planes of his gorgeous body. His skin was smooth minus a few scars and knife wounds, which didn’t hold my attention as much as it brought to the surface just how real his pain was. The tattoos, they held my attention. Tribal tattoos covered his chest and arms, and a long script down the right side of his waist. God they were everywhere. Beautiful. Badass.

  He was a sight to behold, all wet with rippling muscles that helped him move with the grace of a dancer. And the fact that he didn’t see me yet only made me look harder, memorize more details. Lick my lips at the sight of his cock, long though it was completely flaccid.

  “Hazel, what the fuck?”

  God, that little twitch of his cock did more for me in that moment than the angry scowl on his face and I stared just a little bit longer before I licked my lips again.

  “I just came to tell you that I’m headed out.” The words came out just as I intended, only my feet didn’t move. Wouldn’t move. Couldn’t.

  He put the towel to his face to wipe away the water, giving me time to move forward as the devil took hold of my body. “Maybe you should g—”

  I didn’t let Saint finish his words because I didn’t want to hear them, all I wanted in that moment was him. Just a little taste of him because I wasn’t ready for more with anyone and certainly not him.

  “—Maybe I should,” I told him with a smile as my hand wrapped around his semi-hard cock and squeezed. “Do you want me to leave, Saint?” I stroked his cock long and slow until it was thick and hard, stealing from him his ability to speak.

  His only response was a grunt as I took his towel and dropped it between us before I fell to my knees. Up close, his cock was a thing of beauty, long without a doubt, but thick enough that he’d be a challenge to take deep. The big vein on the underside throbbed when I licked it and his knees trembled when I flicked my tongue over the spot at the back of his sac.

  “Hazel.” That was it, just my name, like it was the only thing he could say as passion overtook him.

  I closed my eyes and wrapped my lips around the head of his dick, enjoying the way he couldn’t stop moaning and groaning and growling as I licked him. I tasted every inch of Saint, keeping my eyes closed as I licked him from the underside of his balls to the slit on the head.

  “Oh, fuck. Hazel, fuck.”

  I smiled at the strained passion in his voice and took him deeper, savoring the flavor of pre-come as it burst on my tongue. My lips slid down the length of him and my tongue joined in, giving him the kind of slick friction that made a man forget he was a gentleman. His hips started to buck and I relaxed, opened myself up to him as heat spread through my body. He went deeper as his hips began to buck on their own free will.

  Then he froze. “Shit,” he groaned and pulled back, looking apologetic as fuck.

  “No. Don’t stop. I like it.” It was true and I sat there, waiting for him to judge me. For disgust to settle on his face, but it didn’t. His green-eyed gaze seared through me, trying to see my soul to make sure this was what I wanted, and I let him look because I fucking wanted it. All of it. Bad.

  “Fuck, Hazel.” Saint gripped his cock, finally on board with the plan, stroking it as he looked at me and pressed his tip to my lips. “Take it.”

  My mouth opened instantly and he slid in and then out. In again and then out. He kept a slow and steady pace that was like adding one hay straw at a time to the fire, but it was so fucking hot. He moved faster and faster, fucking my mouth and then my throat like he owned it, like it was his to punish and pleasure as he saw fit.

  I couldn’t look away from him, sliding his cock in and out of my mouth, deeper and deeper still until he hit the back of my throat, fucking me until my eyes watered. And they watered but they never left him, not his beautiful face contorted in erotic pain and not his spectacular body in action. He was so fucking hot I was getting turned on all over again just watching him have his way with my mouth.

  “Hazel,” he groaned and his hips sped up, telling me what my tongue could already feel. His cock growing impossibly harder as his balls drew up tight in preparation for his release.

  “Oh fuck,” he growled as he pumped his cock and splashed into my face, my hair, my mouth—hot and salty and plentiful. “Shit!”

  I smiled around his cock, sucking the tip until I knew every drop was gone. Until his legs buckled and his hands flew out to the tile wall to keep him upright. I stood and straightened my skirt and hair, as I licked my lips. “You’re every bit as good as I thought you would be. Good night, Saint.”

  He choked out an unintelligible response and cocked his head, like he was trying to figure me out. “Good uhm, night.”

  I went over to the sink and stared in the mirror. I had Saint’s come all over my face, neck and hair. It looked hot. As fuck. I pulled out my phone and snapped a mirror selfie before he finished drying off. This would be good for my spank bank. My sexy boss, Saint’s come all over me.

  I chuckled to myself as I rinsed my face and hands.

  It had been a damn good night. I had a ton of money in my pocket and the taste of a hot man on my tongue. I was headed home to finish what he’d started.

  I smiled again and begged my legs to move faster to get away from Saint, just in case he had the crazy thought that he needed to return the favor. I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

  Maybe not ever.

  Chapter Eleven

  Saint

  I watched Hazel spin on her heels and flounce the fuck out of the locker room, leaving me stunned with a fading erection. I couldn’t believe what the fuck had just happened. Did Hazel, my employee, creep into the shower to watch me and the suck me off—hard—until I damn near fell to my knees thanks to a wicked orgasm? I didn’t know what her game was but it had to be a game because I met plenty of women in my life, many of them down to fuck without any other promises, but a free, no strings attached blow job? That shit was un-fucking-heard of.

  But she’d done it. I never imagined her full lips wrapped around my cock, taking me deep until I hit the back of her throat, and I knew for a damn fact that I didn’t imagine the way she sucked me dry. She didn’t even cringe when I came on her face. It was a helluva blow job, one I wouldn’t soon forget either.

  Just because I wouldn’t forget the way she gave head; didn’t mean I’d give Hazel whatever it was she was after. Chances were good that I didn’t even have it to give and if I did, I wouldn’t.

  Couldn’t.

  She’d show her true colors soon enough, and I planned to give her enough distance to do just that. In the meantime, I needed another goddamn shower, this time ice cold with as much pressure as the spray would allow. The cold water felt good, if jarring, on my overheated skin, and I stood there with my eyes closed and my hands braced on the wall as I tried to wash away the images of my cock in Hazel’s mouth running through my mind.

  Images of how she’d been just minutes ago, on her knees with fire burning in those deep coffee brown eyes as she sucked me off. Took me willingly and with an energy few women had ever shown when it came to the art of sucking a dick properly. It made me wonder what else she liked, besides sucking dick and getting off watching orgies.

  My hand wrapped around my cock, already hard again from replaying the blow job, and I wondered what else she’d like. Would she like it if I wrapped my hands around her delicate throat and squeezed while I plowed into her as hard and fast as I could, sweat dripping from my body onto hers as she gasped for breath while her pussy clamped down tight around me. Would it get her off? Make her even wetter until only the
slick sounds of our fucking tore through the air?

  Another thought occurred and I strangled my cock hard, pumping with more force than necessary as I thought about bending her over until that heart shaped ass was in the air, wiggling anxiously as my tongue closed in on that tight asshole. I wondered if she would welcome this cock in her asshole, would she push back and beg for more? Or would she require some coaxing? Would she respond to sweet words or promises of endless ecstasy?

  “Fuck!” I pumped my cock faster.

  She was definitely a woman motivated by pleasure, and I dreamed of giving it to her in all kinds of ways. In every position imaginable, I wanted her. Wanted to fuck all her holes, maybe all at once with a dildo or vibrator.

  “Oh fuck!” Another cry shot out of me as I wondered if she would let me fuck her throat with a rubber cock or did she only respond that way to the real thing? Would she choke and gag the same or would she ask me to take her while I fucked her ass with a toy?

  My orgasm shot out of me like a rocket, long streams of come hitting the slick shower walls before sliding down, vanishing down the drain like it never even happened.

  But it had happened and even though I was all cleaned up and all traces of my pleasure were gone, I couldn’t forget it.

  Not ever.

  Closing up the bar took a few more minutes and then I was headed back to the bunkhouse. Where for once, I slept like a goddamn baby.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hazel

  Another long day and another long shift, but still I walked out of The Barn Door with a bounce in my step because my jean pockets were full to overflowing with tips. Hundreds of dollars worth of tips should have weighed me down, but I walked through the parking lot as light as I’d ever felt. This might have been what normal felt like. The people who woke up each morning happy with the world, kissing their loved ones before they headed out for a productive day at the office, but not just productive—happily productive. It was an important distinction, one that not many people understood but one that people like me couldn’t afford to forget.

  My tips allowed me to squirrel away a shit ton of money for a rainy day because one thing I’d learned about life, was that rain was inevitable. This time though, I wouldn’t be caught unprepared. The way I was on my eighteenth birthday and my foster family had woken me up with a delightful surprise. Silly, naïve little girl that I was, had been expecting a birthday cake and maybe some small trinket to commemorate becoming an adult. What I got instead was a navy blue backpack filled with my shit and a half-hearted wave that said, ‘don’t let the door hit ya on the way out.’

  It had taken another hard won lesson, in the form of a no good boyfriend before the lesson had stuck, but it had. Thankfully.

  I slid behind the wheel of my beat up old car, smiling at the full tank of gas and the no longer flashing check engine light. It felt good to be back on my feet again, even if the rest of my world was up in the air.

  The familiar tone ringing from my phone had a smile on my lips as I answered. “Jessie! How the hell are you, girl?” Jessie was my bestie, when she had time to be. Hell, she was the only person in the world who gave a damn about me.

  Her sweet laughter put me at ease, confirming that she was still as happy as she was when I’d seen her last summer. “I’m good, missing my girl. How are things in good ol’ Texas, Hazel?”

  I closed my eyes and just listened to the sound of her voice for a few moments. It was a familiar sound, even and sweet and slightly melodic. I missed that sound like crazy. “Texas is…good. Weird. But I got a great job and the tips are amazing.”

  Jessie whooped, a loud sound that made me smile as I shifted the car into drive and began the short trip home. “Who would have thought two foster kids from Arkansas would end up doing so well?”

  Her words were kind, but the truth was that Jessie had gone out and grabbed life by the balls, reaching out for the life she wanted. And she’d gotten it. Spectacularly.

  “Well, you have three beautiful kids and a husband who thinks you are a walking, talking goddess, so yeah, you are doing well. Really well. I work at a sex club and live in an apartment that’s a half step up from a roach motel.”

  “Wow. You are moving up. Sex club, huh? How fun!”

  “God, Jessie, if you only knew what perverted rich people did. It’s crazy.”

  “And that’s still more than what you started out with, girl. Be proud of what you do! You have a job that allows you to take care of yourself, a car to get you wherever you want to go without asking anyone’s permission, and a place to lay your head at night. How many times did we wish for something so simple?”

  “Too many times,” I told her on a sigh. There had been many nights where we went to bed hungry, wishing for adulthood when we didn’t have to rely on anyone else. “How’s your cowboy?”

  “Great,” she cooed. “Jake signed a contract with the biggest seller of organic beef which means we can stop worrying about money so much.”

  “Wow, that’s great Jess. Congratulations!” Not having to worry about money was a dream that no foster kid was ever dumb enough to hope for, but somehow Jessie had gotten it for her and her family. “So you’re a real cowgirl now, selling beef and everything.”

  Her laugh trilled down the line making me smile. “Complete with muddy jeans, sun weathered skin and hair that could use a deep conditioning, if only I had the time.”

  “Luckily, Jake loves you with freckles and split ends.” I’d only met Jake a handful of times, but he was a good man with a big heart, and he got bonus points because he didn’t mind our close relationship.

  “He’s pretty great,” she said, and I knew she was smiling because I could hear it in her voice. “Speaking of, tell me about all that gorgeous hunks you work with and don’t even try to downplay it,” she threatened.

  Jessie was the one person I didn’t have to hide from, so even though I didn’t want to talk about it, I told her about The Barn Door. I told her about Gunnar and the rest of the guys, and of course I told her all about Saint as I shoved my key in the door and locked myself inside my hovel, er, apartment. “They’re all nice guys, most of them are veterans.”

  “Oh wow,” she sighed softly. “Which one do you like?”

  “Who said I liked any of them? They’re all nice guys, Jessie.”

  “I’m calling bullshit and if my best friend radar is accurate, you have a thing for the one called Saint.”

  “Sometimes I hate that you know me so well.” It was the one downside to having a best friend forever. She knew me well and remembered everything.

  “I remember saying the same thing when someone stopped me from running away, while pregnant, from a man who loved me. So what aren’t you telling me?”

  There was no point in dragging it out, especially now that I had a big glass of cheap wine at my side. “There’s been this weird tension between me and Saint, sexual and dark and hot. He barely even likes me, for some reason, but he wants me.”

  “And you want him,” she said confidently.

  “Yeah. And something sort of happened.” I didn’t want to tell her. Not because Jessie judged, but because she gave a damn. I closed my eyes and told her about what happened in the shower.

  Jessie sighed and I could hear the disapproval in her voice. “I thought you weren’t gonna do that anymore, Hazel. Did he force you?”

  Yeah, I had made that promise, but I thought she realized at the time I was lying. “No! He looked so tasty all naked and wet, fresh from the shower. I couldn’t resist.”

  My clit swelled and ached at the memory, and I had to cross my legs until the sensation passed.

  “Hazel, if you’re not ready to give a man all of you, then he doesn’t deserve any of you. Dammit, give yourself a chance to be happy.”

  And that was exactly why I loved her, because my sister of the heart believed I deserved more than the string of shitty boyfriends and mediocre lays I’ve had in my life.

  “I am happy, Jessie
. Just not the kind of happy you have going on over there in Oklahoma.” I didn’t want to make her feel bad, but I needed her to understand. “Not everyone gets that kind of happy and that’s okay. I have a job and I can take care of myself. That’s happiness for me. And as much as I want to, and believe me I do, I can’t sleep with my boss. Not again.”

  “You didn’t sleep with him, Hazel, that bastard sexually assaulted you!”

  She was getting riled up again, and I knew I needed to calm her down before she had a panic attack, or worse. My old boss was in prison now, and if this didn’t stop she’d try to get to the bastard. Jessie was a sweetheart but she could be psycho when someone threatened those she loved.

  “He tried to, Jessie, but he failed. That’s what’s important.” I hated even thinking about that asshole, that shitty job I’d stayed in because I needed a place to live. My boss had known it and the moment opportunity struck; he went for it. Promising me a raise and then holding me down while he finger fucked me. The fucking creep. Touching my pussy like I belonged to him. Like he fucking owned me.

  “Girl don’t do things that you don’t have to do. Not if you don’t want to.”

  “But that’s the difference! I did want to, Jessie. Saint is so fucking gorgeous and the fact that he doesn’t even like me, helps.”

  “Exactly!” Jessie growled. “Don’t give up your goodies to a man who doesn’t appreciate you, dammit. You’re great and wonderful, so smart and generous and kind, and these assholes don’t deserve you!”

  There was a long pause before I spoke again. “You done, Reverend?”

  Jessie burst out laughing and in the background, her youngest, Riley, let out a frustrated cry. “Yeah, I’m done. I’m serious though, Hazel. Promise that you’ll value yourself at least as much as I do.”