Tempted By Trouble

Home > Other > Tempted By Trouble > Page 4
Tempted By Trouble Page 4

by Wick, Christa


  He pulled out, shook his head.

  "You're going to have to work for that, baby. Throw off old ideas. Decide who you really are and what you want."

  Leaving the bed, he pulled a small pair of scissors from the dresser. Sliding behind her, Austin worked his free hand between Gina's hot flesh and the fabric of her panties.

  "Just a little tailoring for now," he warned before making the first snip.

  He didn't cut the panties from her, just created a slit along the gusset, enough on each side that his cock, hands, and mouth, would be able to access her from clit, to pussy, to ass.

  Putting away the scissors, Austin paused to study the woman he was intent on dominating. Her hands were folded as if in prayer. Her head dipped toward them. A small vibration ran from her thighs upward to jiggle the luscious flesh of the ass she continued to hold high.

  Without warning, he slid three fingers into her pussy.

  "More than wet enough for me to fuck already," he groaned. "Why is this pussy all worked up, baby?"

  Gina's only answer was a harsh exhalation of need.

  Good, he didn't want to hear her confession—not until he got a grip on his own feelings.

  Straining forward, he kept his fingers buried while his other hand knotted in her hair. With a gentle pull, he coaxed her into turning her head to the side so that she stared at the paneled mirror that occupied an entire wall.

  "Watch, beautiful."

  His hands abandoned her long enough to strip away his briefs. Wetting his fingers inside her once again, he traced the seam of her labia, dipped back inside her hot pussy for more cream then followed the trail up to her tight ass.

  She gasped, her entire body tensing. Austin retreated, toyed with her pussy, two fingers, no fingers, one finger, three. Rubbing, twisting, spreading, vibrating, everything repeating until a moan blossomed deep in Gina's chest, dispersed up her throat and out between lips grown slack with need.

  Austin smoothed another wet line up to her ass. This time, he didn't retreat when she tensed.

  He traced the edge of that little star, first with a fingertip then with his tongue as his hand returned to work her pussy. The soft, insistent press of his tongue against that forbidden hole had her working the fingers inside her with hard, twisting rolls.

  Through the mirror, he watched as her reserve melted away in fat drops, the fact that he had a finger worked into her ass not even registering until he added another and she exploded in her first climax.

  "That's it, baby. Let your body suck them in."

  She milked him with both openings, the impromptu binding slack enough to allow her to rock back and forth until her hips jerked with another climax.

  Straightening Gina's body, Austin pressed against her back until her belly was flat against the mattress. He positioned a leg on each side of her, his hands wedging the tight press of her labia open long enough for his cock to push in.

  Straddling her, buried balls deep, he snaked an arm under her chest, his hand emerging to wrap around her throat and gently squeeze.

  There was a moment of panic, he saw it flash across her face. But, in its wake, he saw a dizzy kind of pleasure relax her features.

  His hips pumped against her ass, his pace still slow and measured. Each time he buried himself all the way in her pussy, he squeezed her throat, releasing as he pulled back, the fat head of his cock too tightly contained to escape.

  Another deep thrust, her oxygen all but cut off until the backstroke.

  "I'm going to fuck this gorgeous ass before I let you out of my bed."

  She moaned, already drowning under another wave of climax.

  "Fuck, love." He bit gently at her shoulder, his grip moving up her throat to press just under her chin where her pulse throbbed with the same rough meter as his cock. "How you move like that, it drives me crazy."

  Gina's squeezing and grasping from within made Austin feel like every molecule in his body was collapsing inward. She was a dark star leaving a vacuum in her wake, siphoning his cock for more energy, compressing him down and down until…

  He pulled out at the very last second, exploding against her body and the silk duvet as Gina bucked wildly with her own release.

  8

  Surrendering his hold on her, Austin quickly backed off the bed, hands rubbing against his face as he made a full military-worthy retreat.

  That wasn't supposed to happen.

  Not without a condom.

  Not with a condom either.

  Not even with two condoms and a handful of birth control pills.

  Take her in her mouth—sure. In her ass, definitely.

  But not…

  It wasn't just Gina. It was any woman he slept with.

  That’s how it was supposed to have happened.

  But something about her eroded his control, made him risk things he had never thought himself capable of risking.

  Unsure what to do or say next, he walked across the room and informed her quietly, "Bathroom's behind this wall.”

  He pushed at a section of the paneled mirror and it popped forward at his touch, the light inside the interior room automatically turning on.

  "You can clean up and get dressed in there."

  * * *

  Gina immediately scooped up everything but her nylons still tied to the bed posts and retreated into the bathroom.

  Her cheeks burned with rage until the door closed and she was left alone staring at her own reflection.

  Was this really her? she wondered, remembering how she’d been on her hands and knees on Austin's bed, her breasts swollen and heavy as the raw silk duvet brushed roughly at her tender nipples.

  She’d not only let him penetrate her ass with his fingers, but she’d wanted him to.

  Even more unbelievable, she’d let him enter her without a condom. She’d not just allowed it, she’d wanted it, too. She’d moved with him, her body helping bring them both to climax.

  Without a condom.

  So now why the hell did she feel like he’d stolen something that was rightfully hers when he’d pulled out and ejaculated against the back of her thighs? When he’d regained control of the situation at the very last second and held himself in check, held himself back from her.

  Hiding a long, angry growl of frustration…and something more, Gina turned the hot water on.

  She stripped off the panties he had cut through and tossed them in the trash. Tossed the garter belt in after them.

  With the water almost hot enough to burn, she doused a washcloth and scrubbed viciously at her skin. The scrubbing made her ache, made her clit throb and her nipples tighten into sharp, over-sensitized tips.

  Bastard! she growled inside her head as she cataloged the aftereffects her body was still experiencing from Austin taking her the way he had.

  After she dried off, she jerked her pants on, shoved her feet into the shoes then wrestled with her bra until tears threatened to escape her watery eyes.

  Shaking her head, she jerked an arm through the blouse's sleeve and pushed the bathroom door open at the same time.

  As soon as she saw him, standing there as if he hadn’t moved a muscle the entire time, she told him tersely, "That was it. The deal is sealed."

  She tried to snap the words at him, but the venom was gone, the fire that had kept her pushing through law school and working full time to send money home finally in danger of sputtering out.

  "A transaction that used the world's oldest currency?" he replied in a clipped tone.

  Gina forced herself to meet his gaze and nod. Shoving one arm into the other sleeve, she fumbled with the buttons.

  "You think you have me out of your system?" Austin asked with a slow, southern drawl she'd never heard him use before.

  Gina chopped her hand in his direction. "You were never in it!"

  His brows lifted with a reminder of just how full and deep he had made it into her.

  “All of that was nothing but a business transaction," she bit out.


  Some emotion played at the edges of Austin's mouth, but he didn't let it break free.

  “Very well. Then my driver will take you home now, Miss Banks," he said and pointed at the door.

  9

  Two Months Later

  Cloistered...cosseted...controlled...

  With the last word slithering through her skull like a gator through the Louisiana swamplands, Gina Banks leaned forward and rapped her knuckles against the glass separating her from the chauffeur in the front seat. His hand moved toward the window's button, but he didn't push on it. Not immediately, anyway.

  Instead, his gaze darted toward the side mirror, the limo swerving lightly as a crazy cabdriver made a three-lane change to enter the Rickenbacker Causeway ahead of them.

  With the danger over, the driver pressed the button. Gina's foot tapped impatiently against the floor of the back seat until the window was fully recessed, the sound muted by the thick carpet.

  "Where did you say you’re taking me?" Her tongue curled wet against her bottom lip for a second as she felt the tension build in her face. Childhood memories of her grandmother admonishing her forced Gina to take a deep, calming breath.

  Girl, who's that lemon mouth for?

  She blinked, still waiting for the driver to peel just a sliver of his attention from the traffic to answer her damn question. Bad enough she had Granny Banks in her head trying to tease her out of a sour expression, she didn't need one of Austin Long's drivers ignoring her.

  "The Charlemagne, ma'am." Ready to dismiss her, his hand moved toward the window's control.

  "I can't find it on my phone—" She chopped the last word short as her lips pushed narrowly forward. Her grandmother's big laugh boomed inside her head.

  "I believe the resort was recently acquired, ma'am. The new owners refurbished it and gave it a new name."

  "Leave it down," she bit out as the man's index finger delivered a wistful stroke against the button. "The control isn't working on my side."

  Flinging herself against the seat back, she glared out the window.

  "Odd, ma'am, I tested it myself this morning."

  Detecting a discreet tone of amusement in the man's voice, she stared at his reflection in the rearview mirror. In the process, she caught an unwanted glimpse of her own face.

  That sure is the biggest lemon mouth I have ever seen! Just because you're mad, Miss Gina, doesn't mean God and everybody else has to know about it! Show a little pride, girl!

  Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes. She had every reason to be mad. And she certainly didn't give a damn if all of Miami knew she was pissed or why.

  Austin Long...

  Gina huffed. Her long, lacquered nails strummed against the leather seat as she remembered the rushed call from Austin's secretary the night before.

  Naturally, he couldn't be bothered to call Gina directly. Even though they had spent as little time together as she could manage in the two months since they'd met, she could tell when he was up to something just by listening to him. Rather, only by listening to him could she tell because his physical presence jammed her internal lie detector.

  But on the phone? Yeah, she could bust that man in a heartbeat no matter how subtle the change in his tone or the pace of his words.

  Austin was certainly up to something and it had taken Gina a little too long to figure out that she was walking into his trap. The call from Gladys hadn't triggered an alarm. Certainly the woman had seemed a little frazzled as she had informed Gina about the last minute opportunity to connect with the company's chief compliance officer, Beau Whitley. But Austin had a way of making all the women around him frazzled, even the gray-haired grandmother who ran his office with an iron hand.

  Gina had been too busy printing copies of her environmental plans for Skipjack Bay and packing an overnight bag before getting up at the butt crack of dawn for the red-eye trip to Miami to contemplate just how sudden the chance to speak to Whitley had arisen. Even though she was only partially employed by Long while she studied for the bar exam, she had quickly learned that Whitley was seldom in the U.S. Even when he visited the States, he continued working in another time zone, his meetings always dreadfully early and metered out in such small chunks that she would have to stay in Miami overnight to finish their discussion the following morning.

  The frazzled secretary, the overnight stay—all of it had seemed perfectly innocent until she exited Whitley's office to find the limo driver waiting for her. She had taken a taxi from the airport to the company's Miami offices and had trusted Gladys would, as promised the night before, email her confirmation of reservations at a suitable hotel located somewhere between the office building and the airport.

  Gina sure as hell wasn't naive enough to think that a newly hired compliance officer responsible for a single drill site got a limo ride to the hotel she would be staying at for the evening, or that the hotel would be on Key Biscayne.

  Watching the hotels get bigger and more expensive the closer they came to Gina's destination, she realized she had swallowed Austin's bait—hook, line and sinker.

  But it was the only thing of Long's that she would swallow on this trip, she promised herself as the limo pulled up in front of a towering hotel set against the sun-filled beach and turquoise ocean beyond Key Biscayne.

  All but jumping from the limo before it came to a full stop, Gina made it out of the vehicle before anyone could open the door for her. From the side of one eye, she watched the driver as he unfolded his long frame, his movements slower than his years or athletic frame warranted.

  Swiveling her head just a fraction for a better look, she saw the irritated pinch of his brow and the flat press of his lips. Hiding her smile, she looked at the front of the hotel. A thin, middle-aged male who looked like he probably ironed and starched his underwear skipped down the steps and greeted her with a short bow.

  "I am Fritz Mueller, the resort's manager." Straightening, he swept his arm in the direction of the hotel's entrance. "If you'll allow me to escort you to where Mr. Long is waiting, Miss Banks, it would be my pleasure."

  Gina stared at the man, her tongue knotted at first because he was a stranger who apparently knew her name, then longer because his words had just confirmed her suspicion that Austin was in Miami.

  When she remained silent and unmoving, Fritz dipped a hand into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a cell phone. He clicked it on, looked at its screen for a second then back at Gina.

  "You are Miss Banks..."

  "Yep, that's her," the driver chuckled as he handed her overnight bag and much larger portfolio case to one of the bell boys. "Can't say I envy the reception Austin's in for."

  Fritz, or Mr. Starched Underpants as she was quickly coming to think of him, looked scandalized for half a second. Recovering, he cleared his throat and made a second sweeping gesture toward the hotel. Gina raised a hand in warning for him to cool his jets as she pivoted to look at the driver.

  Something about the man had been scratching at the back of her neck since she walked out of her meeting with Whitley. The hair beneath his cap was closely trimmed. He stood tall and straight, kept his shoulders squared, and, every so often, his gaze left hers for a short perimeter scan before returning and offering a fresh challenge.

  Former military, she thought. Probably a combat veteran. The type of man Austin kept close at hand. The company was filled with them from the very top all the way down. She had seen Austin interact with them on his uncomfortably frequent visits to the Skipjack project. Those were the only moments she saw him with his guard down.

  Well, those moments and a few flashes the two times he had been intent on turning her body and brain inside out with pleasure.

  "Do you drive Mr. Long very often?" she asked.

  "Whenever he's in town, ma'am."

  The knowing sparkle in the driver's eyes filled Gina with questions. Like, where did he take Austin when he was in town? How many women, and of what variety, did he ferry around for his employer? A
dozen similar questions shuffled through her thoughts in a matter of seconds, but she couldn't ask them. Not only did she have too much pride, but the bell boy was starting to collapse under the weight of her overflowing portfolio and Fritz kept clearing his throat and sweeping his arm so frequently, he was either auditioning for the Miami ballet or was about to have a seizure.

  Spinning on her heels, she marched quickly up the stairs, the bell boy and hotel manager scrambling after her. Even with the sounds of other vehicles arriving and departing, luggage being hefted, and the chatter of staff and guests, she could hear the driver's soft laugh and final words.

  Austin better cover his balls.

  10

  The hotel manager tried to entertain Gina with a soft drone of information about the hotel. She learned that the driver had been only partially right—the Charlemagne was recently renamed after eighteen month's worth of renovations, but the "new" owners had held it for several years.

  Her suspicion that the driver knew more than he had let on was confirmed a few minutes later as Fritz dropped her off in the resort's executive offices and she came face to face with Austin Long, his attention focused on his cell phone and a broad grin covering the bottom half of his face.

  Realizing Gina had arrived, Austin gave the hotel manager a brief nod of acknowledgement. He waited for Fritz to turn away before he flashed his phone at Gina. She had just enough time to read the text and have her blood start to boil before Austin pocketed the phone.

  That's one pissed beauty, boss. She's about to wear your balls as earrings.

  Feeling a fresh case of lemon mouth, she dug her nails into her palms and took a deep breath before speaking. "Is that the kind of banter you exchange with all your employees?"

 

‹ Prev