Just Say The Word

by Tiffany Patterson

  “What the fuck was that?” I growled angrily at Sandra. I wasn’t pissed at her. At least, I didn’t think so. She was obviously just defending herself.

  “Your girl obviously has better hands than you,” Xavier joked beside me.

  I glared at his ass before turning back to Sandra.

  She shrugged. “He needed to learn how to take no for an answer.”

  “She showed his ass exactly how,” Chanel laughed.

  “This is why your ass doesn’t need to be out here wandering around this damn club,” Xavier stated sternly, looking down at his wife.

  “What? I wasn’t even the one in trouble.”

  That had me glancing back at Sandra, who was staring to me confused, as if what just happened wasn’t a big deal.

  “It’s time for us to go.”

  “Same here,” Xavier added.

  “But … are you sure?” Sandra questioned.

  I couldn’t even answer her. I was pissed. And the motherfucker I wanted to take my anger out on had already been handled by my woman and carried out by security.

  Cupping her arm at the elbow with my right hand, I reached in my pocket for my cell phone to text the driver of the town car we’d ridden in. I tossed Xavier and Chanel my good-byes over my shoulder and was escorting Sandra out of that damn club seconds later.

  It was a silent and tense twenty minute ride back to my place.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sandra

  “Did I do something wrong?” I questioned as we entered his condo. The question was barely out of my mouth, the door hardly closed all of the way, before my back was pressed up against it, Damon’s big body hovering over mine, his hands bracketing me in, and eyes barreling down on me.

  “What the hell was that?”

  My eyes widened. He wasn’t angry. He was pissed. His body was rigid with it.

  And still, I wasn’t afraid of him. He wouldn’t hurt me. I knew that instinctively by now.

  I put my hand to his chest, still confused as to exactly what he was angry over.

  “What was what? Me defending myself?”

  He closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head, before pinning me with his gaze again.

  “You shouldn’t have had to defend yourself. And what the hell did you do to take him down so quickly? I didn’t even see it.”

  I smiled, feeling proud. “I elbowed him in the ribs before kneeing his dick.” Just saying the words had me reliving the moment and feeling powerful.

  “Where’d you learn that? They don’t teach that shit in Pilates.”

  I giggled. “I’ve taken self-defense classes off and on for years.”

  “Why?”

  I furrowed my eyebrows. “Why? Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Say the words out loud,” he demanded. He had a thing about me saying what he wanted to hear.

  “I was eighteen when my grandmother kicked me out, alone and pregnant. I worked at a place where it was common for women to be groped and touched without permission. I didn’t always live in the best places when Monique was young so I figured self-defense classes would be helpful. I take a renewal class at least once a year,” I explained.

  His jaw clenched, a muscle jumping just beneath the beard. He lowered his forehead to mine.

  “You should’ve let me handle his stupid ass.”

  I blinked; the anger vibrating throughout his voice had my nipples pushing through the lace bra I was wearing. Never had I had a man so angry on my behalf before. Who knew it was such a turn on?

  Reaching up, I cupped his cheek, running my fingers through his beard. “I can take care of myself,” I responded.

  I gasped in surprise when he grabbed the hand that had been stroking his beard and pinned it to the door behind me. He lowered his face to mine.

  “You shouldn’t have to,” he growled before capturing my lips in a searing kiss.

  I lifted my face, giving him better access to my mouth. All of the anger he’d been feeling he poured into that kiss, his hand tightening around my wrist. I arched my back, pressing my front into his body as a puddle began to form in my panties, between my legs. He kissed me with a passion I’d never felt before, and caused all of the nerve endings in my body to catch fire. At least that’s what it felt like.

  “Damon,” I whispered, breathless as he moved from my lips to my neck, licking the vein that was beating erratically there.

  “Don’t move,” he commanded, sternly in my ear.

  I worked to remain as still as possible, fearing that if I budged even an inch he’d pull away and end this web of passion he’d begun weaving around the two of us.

  I felt his free hand move down my thigh and begin to trail upwards, underneath my skirt, until he reached the lace panties I wore.

  “Spread your legs,” he ordered, with one hand on my panties and his other hand holding my left arm above my head, against the door.

  On shaky legs, I separated my feet, moving my legs a few inches apart.

  Slowly, he began pulling my underwear down my legs, keeping his eyes on me.

  “Keep your arm where it is.” He waited for my agreeance.

  I nodded, and he released my left arm as he lowered his body to his knees while he pulled my panties to the floor.

  “Step out of them.”

  I did so, leaving him to pick my discarded underwear up, bringing it to his nose and inhaling. My eyes bulged. He actually sniffed my damn underwear.

  But before I could continue questioning his sanity, he stored the panties in the back pocket of his pants, lifted his head, and said, “Place both of your hands over your head. Against the door.”

  I hesitated, wondering what he was going to do next.

  “Now,” he growled.

  My right hand shot up, meeting my left over my head.

  Satisfied, Damon lowered his head, pushing it between my thighs until his entire head was underneath my skirt. My heart began beating erratically. Before I could question how the hell he could even breathe like that, his two large hands went to the backs of my thighs, slowly moving my skirt upwards, exposing the entire bottom half of my body. As soon as my skirt reached my waist, bunched up, Damon moved, tossing my right leg over his left shoulder and took the first swipe of my pussy with his tongue.

  A thud sounded but I barely acknowledged the pain of my head hitting the wooden door behind me. All I felt was ecstasy as Damon consumed me from the inside out. At least, that’s what it felt like. He used one of his hands to spread my lips, giving his tongue better access to the sensitive button at my center. I swore he put every ounce of anger and passion he’d been feeling earlier into delivering pleasure.

  I moaned and writhed against the door—arching into this seeking mouth, trying to wring out every bit of what he was giving.

  “Damon, don’t stop!” I panted, begging, feeling myself reach for my orgasm.

  He moaned something against my body but I was too far gone to understand what he was saying. The only thing I knew for sure, in that moment, was that if he stopped, I wouldn't survive. I just would not make it.

  “Shiiit!” I cursed, as my legs began quivering and the orgasm slammed into me. My hips bucked wildly. If I had been cognizant enough, I would’ve feared hurting Damon with my jerky movements. But again, I was not in my right state of mind. My body had taken over and demanded more.

  As I came down from that first orgasm, Damon slowly moved his head from between my legs, lowered my foot back to the floor, and ran a hand down his now glistening beard.

  Did I do that? I questioned myself, blinking, as I looked at the moist hairs of his beard.

  “Don’t look like that. This shit is better than beard oil.” He chuckled, rubbing his hand through his beard again.

  “You’re nasty,” I whispered against his lips as he moved in for a kiss.

  He chuckled. “I’m not the only one, little one,” he reminded me, squeezing my ass in his hand.

  I moaned into his mouth as we kissed before he pulled bac
k.

  “Don’t think I forgot about these,” he stated, stepping back and pulling my panties from his back pocket.

  I tilted my head, wondering what he had planned for those.

  He shook his head. “Not yet. Come here, little one,” he growled, kissing me again and lifting me so my legs circled his waist.

  I felt us moving as he carried me down the hall, our lips still locked together. Once we arrived at his bedroom, I expected him to lower me to his bed, but he lowered me to my feet by the door.

  “These need to go,” he stated as his hands went to my shirt, pulling it over my head.

  My arms raised, willingly exposing myself to him. Shyness be damned, my body was still humming from that last orgasm and wanted … no, needed more.

  He spun me around, reaching for the back clasp of my bra, pushing it down and off my body once he’d undone it.

  Within less than a minute he was eyeing me as I stood before him completely nude and unashamed.

  That was when he lifted the panties of mine that he still had in his hands. “Lift your wrists.”

  My head shot backwards, surprised. “What?”

  “Your wrists. Hold them out to me.”

  I lifted my wrists, holding them together out in front of me. I watched, breath leaving my body, as Damon used some sort of intricate knotting method to bind my wrists with my own underwear. But before I could even fully grasp what he’d done, he was leading me over to the bed by my bound wrists. However, instead of laying me down first, he stripped down to his boxer briefs and laid down.

  “I promised you a seat on my beard tonight. I’m a man of my word.”

  To be honest, I hadn’t fully comprehended what he’d meant when he said I’d be using his beard as a seat. But when he took me by the hips and helped me position my body so that my hips hovered above his mouth, I got it.

  “Hands on the headboard,” he ordered.

  I sighed, feeling lewd while the evidence of how turned on I was seeped out of me, coating the tops of my inner thighs.

  My shaky hands went to the shiny wood of the headboard, cupping it. Damon pulled my hips lower, and the contact of his warm tongue sent a shiver through my entire body. It didn’t matter that he’d just performed this same act on me out in his living room. My nerve endings responded even quicker to the feel of his hairs against my inner thighs, the hold of his strong hands on my hips and buttocks, and of course, his probing tongue against the most sensitive part of my entire body.

  I began moving my hips, essentially riding his face. I stopped when I grew concerned over how my movements might be hurting him.

  “Oh!” I gasped when a smack to my ass caught me off guard.

  “Don’t stop!” he demanded, and even though it was muffled due to his positioning, I understood completely. He liked it when I rode his face. I tightened my hold on the headboard and began moving my hips back and forth before swirling them around, angling my body to get everything out of his mouth and this positioning.

  All it took was a few more swipes of the tongue from Damon and my eyes were squeezing shut, head lolling backwards, and the orgasm came crashing through my entire body.

  By the time I came down from it, my throat was scratchy from the yelling. Ordinarily, such actions would’ve had me clamming up in my shyness, but the turned on look in Damon’s eyes had me feeling anything but shy.

  He moved quickly, and before I even realized it, he’d not only removed his boxer briefs but had also sheathed himself with a condom.

  “You rode my face now I want you to ride this dick.”

  He was so damn nasty.

  My nipples pebbled as I nervously bit my bottom lip. This position was a first for me. Holding up my hands, which were still bound by the wrists, I told him, “I need my hands,” as I straddled his waist.

  He shook his head. “No you don’t.”

  Before I could even ask him how that was possible, his own hands began lifting my hips to position me over his straining muscle.

  Lifting my tied hands, I reached out to grasp him.

  “No hands,” he said sternly. “Put them behind your head.”

  I glared at him. He only returned my glare with a mischievous grin.

  Damn, why did that make me ache even more to have him inside of me? Slowly, I lowered my hips, Damon’s hands now at my waist, helping me onto his member. As the tip of his cock breached me, I let out a small moan.

  “Damon,” I whispered his name, and was surprised when I felt him twitch inside of me.

  Our eyes connected. Both of his had darkened. He became incredibly turned on whenever I said his name during sex. I swallowed against the feeling of power that sent coursing through me. I let out all of the air I’d been holding in once he was fully seated inside of my body.

  I started to feel awkward, not sure what to do or how to make this pleasurable for him, but the look in his eyes directed me. It told me he had all of the confidence in the world in me, and that somehow convinced me I couldn’t let him down. I sat up straighter, causing my breasts to stand out.

  His hands moved, covering my breasts and pinching my nipples. I bit my bottom lip from the pleasure of his hands on me and the sensations moving down through my body down to my core. Instinctively, I rose and then dropped my hips, sliding up and down on Damon’s appendage. I let out a deep sigh at the feeling of his fullness inside of me. I rose and came down again.

  “Ride it,” he growled, spurring me on.

  Again, I lifted, this time squeezing my pelvic muscles as I lowered.

  “Shit!” he cursed, obviously feeling what I’d done.

  I did the same movement again and again, ramping up the passion coursing between both of our bodies. I sent a silent thank you out to the man who invented Pilates for the core strength I’d developed over the previous six months. The next time I lowered, instead of rising, I swiveled my hips, allowing him to hit each of the four corners of my insides. My head fell backwards as a deep tremor moved through my entire body, starting at the tips of my toes.

  Damon’s hands moved from my breasts to my hips, squeezing as his own hips began rising and falling with my movements. My hands remained in place, at the back of my head, as I surrendered to all of the feelings flowing between the two of us. My hesitation had been replaced by need and something else.

  I looked down to see Damon staring intently at me. He always watched me as we made love. It made me feel even more wanted, and possibly needed. Within minutes, my lips were parting and my eyes tightened as my third orgasm of the night ripped through my body so violently my shoulders shuddered. Without opening my eyes, I heard Damon’s breathing increase and he cursed, his own body giving into the orgasm that it demanded.

  We came together, loudly and aggressively.

  It was perfect.

  ****

  Sighing, I stretched out my arms as I prepared to step onto the treadmill at work. For days I’d been walking around feeling as if I was floating on air. I’d heard people say things like that. I’d read that feeling so many times in the many romance novels I’d devoured over the years. I’d spent much of my free time, once Monique was tucked into bed, diving in between the pages of one of my favorite authors, searching for that feeling. But nothing compared to actually having it in real life. Certainly, it was too early to call what Damon and I had love. Wasn’t it?

  If it was, I knew I wasn’t too far from it, but I’d decided to keep those feelings to myself. From what I knew, most men were intimidated by such admissions.

  I stepped onto the treadmill to do my usual two to three mile walk while on my lunch break. I’d grabbed a pair of five pound hand weights to utilize for a few arm exercises while walking.

  “Daydreaming again?”

  I blinked and glanced to my right just as the belt on the treadmill started. I smiled at Emma, the main lawyer I’d been working with as of late. “I didn’t see you there.”

  She nodded, staring down at her treadmill’s screen, pressing butto
ns to turn it on. “I know. Someone’s had her head in the clouds lately.”

  I giggled before looking away. Emma and I weren’t particularly friends outside of work, but we had a nice rapport. Apparently, my happiness hadn’t managed to slip past her. Suddenly, another thought crossed my mind and I frowned.

  “I haven’t been making mistakes, have I?” While I was happy in my personal life, I certainly didn’t want that to derail my career due to my lack of attention to detail or anything.

  Emma shook her head as she pressed the button to increase the speed on her treadmill. She was a runner, where I was typically a walker.

  “No, not all,” she replied, panting a little as her pace increased. “Your work has been great as usual. It’s good to see you happy.” Turning her head to face me, she winked. “You used to wear an almost forlorn expression when you first started.”

  I looked away from Emma, toward the screen of my treadmill, upping the speed by two notches. I didn’t want to think about the reason I’d come to work for Mansfield, Duvall & Mason in the first place. While the transition had been a great move career wise, it wasn’t a happy reason that’d prompted me to leave my previous employer in the first place.

  I was happy when Emma didn’t say much else after that, in an attempt to goad me for information. She continued her run while I increased the incline of my treadmill and lifted the weights I’d brought over doing a few shoulder presses and other moves. The location of our building’s gym looked out on the Williamsport bridge which traversed the Williamsport River. It was moving into mid-April and spring had made its full appearance. The sun was shining brightly and the leaves on the trees were in their full bloom. Spring was my favorite season because it spoke to new life.

  Sighing, I let myself take in the beautiful views as I worked the kinks out of my body. Thankfully, I wasn’t someone who sweated too much while working out. That was the only reason I felt comfortable working out in the middle of the day. By the time my thirty minute cardio session ended, I was still feeling good, though slightly winded from having pushed the intensity a little more.