by Lulu Pratt
My fingers inch further south as I summon images of Jameson sitting across from me with that penetrating gaze and that cocky smile. Then I imagine those rough fingers teasing my sensitive nub and a moan escapes me at the erogenous thought.
I continue to rub circles around my clit while I dip a finger into the welcoming warmth of my hole. The penetration is a delightful addition that has me grinding my hips upwards as I imagine Jameson thrusting into me with enough momentum to shake me to my core.
And then I’m coming as I pant my client’s name, the wetness of my release coating my fingers as my shoulders relax and momentary satisfaction covers me.
*
At five o’clock, I’m the first one out of the office. I’m anxious to get home and share my earlier encounter with my roommate, Stephania.
As I stride across the parking lot, I throw a furtive glance over each shoulder and grip the keychain containing my pepper spray. It is a routine I adopted once I fled my hometown and have to walk anywhere alone.
I unlock the front door and Stephania is in the kitchen, cooking as a mouthwatering aroma fills the small two-bedroom apartment we share.
Her bouncy, red curls are pulled away from her face when she looks up at me with a smile.
“Steph, you will not believe what happened to me today!” I squeal.
“You got a promotion?” she guesses, a hopeful expression on her face.
“No!” I laugh, leaning against the island.
Her lips quirk at my excitement but she doesn’t try to guess again.
“I met a walking sex dream and his name is Jameson Wilcox.”
Her eyes double in size at his name but she remains silent as I give her a detailed play by play.
Chapter two
JAMESON WILCOX
I need to fuck Grace Chambers.
The woman is a fucking vixen. Pure sex packaged in a beautifully curvy frame. My carnal instincts want to devour every inch of her.
An hour after our meeting, my cock is still shoving against the zipper of my slacks making it all but impossible to concentrate on anything besides her plump lips and thick, round ass.
The fact that our meeting was a ruse no longer matters. I need to bury my cock in that woman before this assignment is over.
I turn her card over in my palm before deftly flicking it to a corner of my desk. Shaking my head, I try to clear those wayward thoughts.
I’m a bounty hunter for people on the wrong side of the law. I have no business having these thoughts about a target.
Pulling my phone from its cradle, I dial my client to notify him that initial contact has been made.
“Wilcox,” his sickening voice greets. “You got good news for me?”
I inform him of my meeting and tell him that the job will be complete in a month’s time according to the deadline we had agreed upon.
“We’re on schedule,” I assure him. Then I tell him the name of the town she’s claimed as home, sparing details about her occupation and home address. It won’t kill him to wait a bit for the remainder of the information.
Truth be told, I’m not too sure I will ever share that info. He doesn’t need it as long as I hold up my end of the deal. Which I fully intend to do.
Brick drawls on about something insignificant and I smother a retort.
The man is nauseating but a paying customer, and who am I to discriminate? His money is just the same as any other American dollar.
He hired me a week ago to capture and deliver Grace Chambers to him in a month’s time. The client, who most refer to as “Brick,” wants her to suffer for a mistake he claims she made before skipping town and moving to Holly Hill.
Brick reminds me that I’m not to harm Grace in any way. He wants her delivered unscathed before exacting his revenge. My only responsibility in the ploy is the capture and return of “dislocated” goods or persons and I would receive the six-figure payout we’d agreed upon.
Unfortunately, the only capturing I can think about at the moment involves me bringing Grace to my place and tying her up while I fuck her tight pussy mercilessly in my California king bed.
Disconnecting the call with Brick, I abandon my office and head to my home gym to work off some of the mounting tension.
*
That night as I step out of the shower, my thoughts errantly drift to Ms. Chambers yet again.
Quite honestly, she hasn’t left my fucking mind once since our little meeting today and I’m becoming irritated by the residence she’s taken up in my head.
I find myself plotting on the next time I will see her, knowing damn well these lustful feelings go against every rule I have in place for my professional dealings.
I may be crooked but rules were rules. Money is more important than a quick fuck. I repeat the sentiment a few times because I clearly need a reminder and so does my greedy cock.
Even if Grace is the sexiest woman I’ve met.
She definitely doesn’t belong in this godforsaken town. She sticks out like a sore thumb even though I know she thinks she’s slipping under the radar.
Not for the first time, I can’t help but think about how coincidental it is that she landed in my hometown of all places.
Walking into the kitchen, I grab a beer from the fridge. As the chilled liquid touches my tongue, I decide I would much rather have Grace writhing against my tongue as I get acquainted with her intimately.
What the hell?
It irks me that this woman won’t vacate my mind so I decide to do something about it.
Traipsing back into my office, I grab the card with info I’d memorized long before our first meeting.
I smile when I see she even included her personal phone number for clients who needed to reach her after hours.
And she’d said I was thorough.
Without a second thought, I pick up the phone and wait until her sultry voice fills the line.
“Hello?” she speaks uncertainly and I know it’s because she doesn’t recognize my number.
“Grace, I hope I’m not interrupting anything…” I let my words linger for a bit. My research hasn’t revealed whether she’s involved with anyone. Is she with him right now? It’s Friday night and it would make sense for a couple to be spending time together after the conclusion of the work week.
But the thought alone makes me see a deep shade of red I hadn’t seen since leaving the SEALs.
“Jameson,” she says finally filling the silence that had stretched over the line.
It pleases me that she didn’t pretend to not know who was calling.
“How are you?” I ask casually, no pretense of business clouding my words.
She stammers a bit before replying. “I’m fine. H-how can I help you, Jameson? Did you think of something else after our meeting today?”
I had thought of something all right.
I take another pull from my beer and relax against the counter to talk to her.
“Are you seeing anyone, Grace?”
Her gasp lets me know she is startled by my straightforward approach.
Good. She’s thrown me off balance and I’m glad I can return the favor.
“Excuse me?” she sputters. I must admit, it’s cute.
“Are you dating anyone? Do you have someone you’re involved with?” I ask for clarification.
“Mr. Wilcox, I’m sorry but I was under the impression this was a business call. If you don’t have any questions about your loan—”
“Jameson,” I interrupt.
“What?” she asks and I can tell she’s way off kilter now. I smile at the thought.
“Jameson. We agreed you would call me by my name. Remember?”
A few intakes of breath are followed by a loud sigh. “Look, Jameson. I’m not sure what you’re trying to accomplish here, but I’m only interested in talking business.”
“I bet you’re leaking just thinking about the way I would fuck that sweet little pussy of yours.”
She says nothing, the silen
ce letting me know that my words hold truth.
“I saw the way you were fidgeting in your office today. Do you really want me to believe I have no effect on you?” I tease boldly.
Grace breaks the silence, finally finding her voice.
“I don’t have to tell you how inappropriate you’re being, Mr. Wilcox. Please refrain from using this number unless you need to discuss details regarding your loan application. I’m going to pretend like this never happened and I suggest you do the same. Goodbye.”
As the dial tone hums in my ear, I smile and put the receiver back on the cradle.
She wants me as much as I want her and I’m going to make sure we both satisfy our cravings.
Grace Chambers seems determined to play it safe at the moment, but I will eventually break her and put us both out of our sex-starved misery.
Then I will turn her over to the lowlife who’s looking for her and move on with my life.
Chapter three
GRACE CHAMBERS
Saturday night finds me on the couch, stuffing my face with my favorite movie snack: popcorn and milk chocolate. Stephania is in the kitchen retrieving her famous hot wings while I search through the channels.
Since neither of us have much of a social life, it has become our Saturday night ritual to veg out on the sofa with all our favorite foods and loads of reality TV.
Finally, I land on our favorite housewives show before my mind drifts to eyes the color of honey and rough hands large enough to…
“What did I miss?” Stephania asks, interrupting my wayward thoughts. She plops down beside me with a bowl of saucy wings.
I try, unsuccessfully, to concentrate on the overdressed women and petty catfights but Jameson intrudes every thought I have for the next thirty minutes. Stephania doesn’t hold her tongue when she notices.
“Okay,” she says muting the TV. “What’s going on with you?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, playing it coy.
She doesn’t buy it and says as much. I know the guilt is visible all over my face.
“You’re still thinking about this Jameson guy, aren’t you?” she asks reading my mind.
A frustrated groan escapes me as I drop my head on the cushion.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” I admit.
I know there’s no point in lying to her. Since meeting at a job fair a year ago, we’ve been thick as thieves. She’s the one person I’ve grown to trust here.
“Are you sure you told me everything?” she implores knowingly. “Have you seen him since the office on Friday?”
“No, but he called me last night.” I briefly fill her in on Jameson’s bold attempt at seducing me over the phone.
“The guy has balls,” she says after a sip of her soda. “Just be careful, Grace. He has a reputation.”
She’s not telling me anything I don’t already know.
“I just wish I wasn’t so turned on by it. This is wrong for so many reasons.”
“You need a distraction,” Stephania claims, eyeing me closely.
“What kind of distraction?” I ask, leery of what’s coming next.
A huge smile eclipses her face and I know my premonitions are right.
“Let me set you up with one of the teachers at my school. I know the perfect guy for you.”
I roll my eyes at her enthusiasm. She works at the local high school and has been trying to set me up with the history teacher since she started the gig.
Each time, I vehemently turn down her offer. This time is no different.
“You know I’m not ready to date anyone yet, Steph.”
Exasperation clouds her once playful expression and she huffs.
“You always say that but you never tell me why.”
Guilt assails me. I trust her more than most people but I still haven’t been completely open about my past. I’m just not ready to confront those feelings.
“One of these days,” I promise, turning my gaze back to the TV.
“Fine,” she concedes, standing up to walk in the kitchen. “Do you want another drink?”
I smile quietly to myself, happy that I’ve purchased myself a little more time.
*
On Monday, I sit in my office sifting through emails, mentally preparing for the work day. As I type out a response to my boss about my latest report, my phone vibrates twice, alerting me to a new text message.
Absentmindedly, I grab the phone and scan the screen. The same number from Friday night stares back at me and I know it’s him.
Butterflies rapidly invade my stomach.
Swiping up, I key in my passcode to reveal his message.
Miss me yet?
Heat rushes into my cheeks and I can’t stop the smile that follows. Since his phone call Friday night, I’ve foolishly anticipated his next attempt at communication.
Not a chance, I type back.
He replies twice within a matter of seconds.
Liar.
What are you wearing, Ms. Chambers?
Instant arousal shoots through my core and I squirm in my chair. It is far too early for these sensations to assault me.
When I don’t text him back right away, he abandons the text messaging and calls me directly.
“Tell me your secret, Grace.”
I’m unprepared for how sexy he sounds first thing in the morning. His sinful voice is somewhat scratchy, as if he’s just waking up.
The thought of him calling me from bed does inexplicable things to my swelling lust.
“What are you talking about?” I ask as I begin my new practice of folding and unfolding my legs in an attempt to relieve the building pressure.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left your office on Friday and I want to know your secret.”
“I’ll never tell,” slips past my lips before I can stop myself.
Am I really flirting with this man?
His tempting laugh fills the line and I am filled with pride that I am the one to elicit it.
“You’re something else, Grace Chambers. Listen, do you have lunch plans today?”
His question momentarily douses the fire in my loins and I slowly regain a portion of my senses. I have to remain firm with him or he will walk all over me and my rules.
“Mr. Wilcox,” I say, attempting to sound stern. “I’ve told you already that this can’t go any further than a working relationship.”
Momentary silence is followed by the sound of him clearing his throat.
“I was going to ask you if I could stop by and discuss my account.”
I’m so happy no one is here to witness the mortified expression on my face.
Jameson chuckles lowly.
“But I’d be more than happy to take you lunch instead. If that’s what you want,” he adds and I can almost picture the brash smirk on his face.
Words fail me before I gather my wits.
“I’m sorry. I just assumed — you know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m free in the afternoon if and when you decide to drop by. I’ll be happy to answer any questions you may have regarding your existing account or loan application.”
I’m certain he can read my embarrassment through the phone because his next words mercifully spare me any further humiliation.
“Great. I’ll see you around one.”
“Great,” I squeak out.
“I’m looking forward to it,” he says before we disconnect.
Casting a glance at the clock on my office wall, I realize I have three and a half hours to prepare myself to see him again.
Three and a half hours to rein in my unruly libido and control my mischievous thoughts.
*
The rest of the morning passes in a mundane blur of phone calls and paperwork. When one o’clock rolls around I realize I have worked straight through my usual lunch hour and Jameson will be arriving at any second.
I shove a mint in my mouth just as a knock sounds at my door.
Jameson’s imposing figure
fills the doorway in the next moment, stalling my breath.
His beautiful eyes are piercing and focused on me. Unshaven stubble darkens his strong jaw and he’s wearing all black again. Is it possible that he looks even better than before?
“Hello, Grace. This is for you,” he speaks coolly extending something in my direction.
When I blink, I realize it’s a tall cup of hot coffee.
“Thanks,” I accept the proffered cup. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Consider it a peace offering. I’ll be on my best behavior during this meeting. You have my word.”
A sense of loss settles over me at his words.
I should be happy that he’s giving me what I want.
What I say I want. Yet, I can’t help feeling like I’ve lost something.
Shaking my head, I sigh and push away the thoughts.
It’s better this way.
Chapter four
GRACE CHAMBERS
“Grace, are you listening to me?” Jameson asks, snapping me out of my lusty haze.
I feel the heat rise in my cheeks and offer a repentant smile.
“You seem distracted,” he assesses as his head tilts to take in my features.
“I apologize,” I sigh. “It won’t happen again. What were you saying?”
“Anything in particular on your mind?” he asks, ignoring my question and trying to sidetrack the conversation.
His grin tells me he knows I’m distracted by him.
Who can blame me? The man embodies sex effortlessly.
“You were saying? About your account?” I refocus my attention on the present situation and call on my professionalism.
We talk a few minutes more regarding his account and I refer him to an analyst at the credit union to follow up our conversation.
Business concluded, he leans back in his chair making himself rather comfortable for someone who should be heading out the door.
I bite down on my bottom lip, anticipating his next words.
My actions have drawn his attention to my lips because he won’t look away, even once he starts speaking.
“How was your weekend, Grace?”
“Uneventful,” I reply, but I don’t follow up to ask about his.