“I see. Thank you, Mrs. Fields. So that’s why Mr. Winston is tearing this place down? He’s moved the boys to the new facility?”
“Yes, quite a while ago, actually. And whatever made you think Mr. Winston was tearing the old place down? He’s kept it up, empty, for years. I don’t know that he’ll ever tear it down.”
Virginia thanked the woman again, not bothering to ask why she was being so forthcoming. Part of her knew that anyway too. Or at least she and Mrs. Fields knew it, even if Aaron didn’t.
When she entered the dim locker room, she could hear the shower running. If she hadn’t had it just confirmed that the place was empty, she might have not been so bold. Or maybe she would’ve. She hardly knew herself anymore.
She needed him, this man.
Her clothes came off, strewn on the simple wooden bench amid the sea of dented lockers, and she went, naked, toward the sound of the shower and the feel of the steam emitting from the blast. Aaron’s clothes were nowhere in evidence, but he was naked as well all right, eyes closed, head craned back, both hands against the tiled wall in the communal shower. His back was to her and the sound of her approach was masked by the throbbing jets of water.
His body was gorgeous, all hard muscle and slim hips and tight ass. She hadn’t really had the proper amount of time, not to mention light, to appreciate him in the funeral home, but he was there now in all his glory. She slipped her arms around his wet waist from behind.
And he jumped a mile. Jesus, he startled so badly she was afraid he would slip on the wet floor as he scrambled away from her touch.
“What the fuck!”
She laughed awkwardly at first, but the look of horror on his face shocked her. The feeling of what he might have been reliving, might have been afraid of for a second, sickened her. And she would not ask him about it either. He would tell her if he wanted to.
Some day.
“Aaron, it’s me.”
His face cleared and just as quickly his eyes took in her naked body. Now that he was facing her and he was back in the now, the present, his body, anyway, was happy to see her. One part of him certainly perked up to greet her.
His gruff words didn’t follow its lead, though. “What are you doing in here? I thought I told you to get lost.”
She weighed how to approach him. She’d never come on to a guy, not counting in the funeral home with him, and the limo too, she guessed. But she certainly would’ve never contemplated doing so to a guy who told her to get lost. Too Fatal Attraction-like, even if she thought the guy didn’t mean his brush off.
But now was different. Now she needed to get through to him, even if he was determined to use words to keep her away.
Enough words. She dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands sliding up his wet thighs and around to his tight ass.
Chapter Seven
When she opened her mouth to take him in, his hands fisted in her hair and he yanked her head back. “No thanks, Miss Beckett. You already proved you’re a star pupil. I don’t usually lose it like that. But go practice on somebody else. I don’t want another blow job from you.”
“You could have fooled me,” she said softly, eyeing his rampant hardness.
He pulled her up by her wet hair, grabbing her arm at the last minute. She barely noticed the sharp tug of pain, steadying herself by placing her palms on his wet, hard pecs. He glanced down at her body for a second, and then his sneer was back in place. “Wow, this is really a day for you to let loose, isn’t it, princess? First you fuck all your childhood trauma away and now this. One blowjob and suddenly you’re a sexpot. Stripping naked and sauntering in here—”
“Stop.” She put two fingers up to his mouth, pressing them against his lips, and he jerked his head away furiously.
“You stop,” he muttered, leaning toward her and then halting a fraction away from a kiss. “You feel so naughty, don’t you, sweetie? Sex in a shower.”
She took a deep breath of the steam wafting all around them.
“Did you read about something like this in Cosmo and now here you are, all brave, acting it out? What’s supposed to happen?” He jerked her hand down to his cock and wrapped it around him, greedily. “Am I supposed to kiss your tits lovingly and caress you between your legs? Come on, now that we’re not locked in together, can’t you think of something a little more interesting?”
He flipped her around, quickly, and she jutted her palms out to meet the tile wall as he crowded in on her, his front to her back. His cock was hard against her as he leaned his face to her shoulder and bit lightly. She moaned. His hands slid down around front to linger between her legs. “Pussy’s nice and slick already,” he observed. “Well, that’s nice.”
She widened her stance and tipped her hips back, inviting him in. But his hands slid back around to her butt, caressing for a second and then nudging her cheeks open, just the slightest bit, to wedge his cock against her.
She tensed, shocked, and his mouth moved to her ear. He bit her earlobe lightly and she arched as he whispered, “How about I give you a new lesson? Come on, you’re off the bunny hill, now. Let’s take a plunge. What do you say?” His hand went down and pulled one of her butt cheeks over to wedge more firmly up the crack. “Or does that scare you, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes?”
It did, actually. She had never done that and didn’t think she’d ever want to, especially not with that monster instrument of his.
“You don’t know half of what I could do with this delectable little body of yours, Miss Beckett. I’ve done things I bet you can’t even imagine.”
He was trying to scare her with words again. His body, for all his apparent menace, hadn’t gone any farther than the slight pressure between her cheeks, which felt oddly sensual, though she did not—repeat, did not—want to push that any further. He wouldn’t hurt her. She knew he wouldn’t.
“You can do anything you want with me, Aaron. I trust you.”
“Shut up,” he murmured. “I’m going to fuck you up this cute little ass.”
Well, now, that did give her pause.
“You ready?”
She didn’t answer.
“Or do you want to get the fuck out of here while you still can?”
“I trust you,” she said again.
He kicked her legs farther open and she arched her ass back into him. “Trust me? That’s your mistake then. You ever been fucked up the ass, princess? Silly me, of course you haven’t. Well, I’m afraid it hurts if you’re not prepared for it. If you don’t want it.”
She was very much afraid he wasn’t just talking about here and now. Her heart broke.
“We really should have some lube, but I don’t have any.”
He was still rock hard against her backside, as his hand slid down between her thighs and scooped up some of the moisture there, transferring it, before she knew what he was doing, to in between her cheeks. “This’ll just have to do.”
Unwittingly, she squealed and he laughed, rubbing against that oddly forbidden entrance with his fingertips, massaging her own juices into her. He pushed one finger a little of the way in and she tensed.
“Relax,” he demanded, his lips on her neck, his other hand traveling around to her front, skimming against her breasts, which felt heavy and distended, before moving around to her clit, pressing softly. “Let’s see if you can come with just one of my fingers in your asshole and another one on your clit and then we’ll move to something more challenging.”
For all she had spent practically the whole day in bed with a master—well, on the sofa with him, anyway—she wasn’t under any illusions as to her own sexual prowess. She was a neophyte. She knew, intellectually or from the rare occasions on which she had masturbated with written material to help her along, that there were all these facets to sexuality. Touches, body parts, hungers that could only be appeased with things she didn’t expect sounded that rational the morning after. But she’d never really experienced them until Aaron. Never before wanted to lose control
, like she did with him.
She groaned and laid her head back against his shoulder, letting him work his dark magic, plumbing the depths of her. The finger behind her became more forceful, slipping in a little more, and she arched into it. “How sweet,” he whispered in her ear. “She likes it.”
He was moving the length of his cock against her bottom as he worked her and, not knowing what to do with her own hands, she tried to reach back for him, but the angle was too awkward. His fingers dipped into her vagina at that. “Let’s stick with you, Virginia. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get mine yet. I always do. For now, why don’t you use your hands to play with yourself?”
She swallowed hard and then laughed weakly. “I can do that on my own time.” His lips grazed her shoulder.
“I want to see you do it. Or have you never done that before either?”
The mocking way he said it—God, he was still angry with her. His hands busy and stirring her to wordlessness and he was still angry with her.
“What a good little girl you’ve been all this time, sticking to guys who don’t even know how to eat your pussy. No wonder you weren’t getting any. Well, that’s all over now. Professor Winston’s here to see to it you learn everything you need to. And maybe we’ll get a little extra help on that score. Maybe we can find another guy to fuck you up that sweet, tight pussy while I teach you how to take it up the ass—”
She struggled.
“Surely you’ve heard of that. A ménage a trois. Two on one. You get the idea. It’s not usually my first choice, seeing as how I hate to share, but chicks love it and if you’re very good—”
She got away from him with one furious jerk, pushing him back. He laughed, running his fingers under the nearby shower head of steaming water and then sticking his hands in his hair, slicking it back. He reached for the bar of soap in the alcove near the shower head and turned his back on her. “Go home, Virginia. I’m tired of playing with you. You think I’m kidding or trying to shock you? You think I haven’t done every one of those things and more?” The soap was running along his sides and down his legs as he rubbed vigorously, working up a thick lather. He stood directly under the spout, flinging the soap across the room violently and then crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m not shocked,” she said in a small voice.
“Like hell,” he muttered.
She didn’t know why she kept trying, but she did. She didn’t want to walk away from him like this. “Sex is…sex is more than that. Or it can be.”
“How the fuck would you know?”
She turned into him, winding her arms around his neck. “Because I’ve met you.”
He pushed her against the wall, but at the last minute flipped her around again. His hands slid down to her hips and he tilted her up to him and slid, smooth as could be, not into where he’d threatened, but into the hot wet passage that had prepared itself for him and she relished it. She braced her palms against the tiled wall as he pulled his cock back and then drove in again. Hard. She let out a little moan as he put his palm on her back, pushing her down so she was angled farther out. Abruptly, he pulled out of her and kicked a nearby bench in their direction. Without preliminaries, he bent her over it, placing her hands on the scarred wood, her bottom sticking out toward him. And he thrust his hard cock right back into her wet depths.
It felt so good. How could it feel so good even when she knew, could almost feel like a palpable thing, how angry he still was?
“Oh yeah, you met me and I’m good for a nice hard fuck, aren’t I?” He punctuated his words with precise, practiced strokes, pulling her hips and then pushing them out at just the right rhythm, the shower head still close enough to rain water down on them as he stood between her open legs. He moved one hand from her hip to her clit, playing with her, never ceasing the thrusting of his cock, in and out of her. “You held out as long as you could, but when you finally gave in to it, you saw how much you wanted it. And girls like you always get what they want, don’t they? But I need to stay in my place. Fuck you where you want to be fucked and when you want to be fucked.” He whispered the words into her ear as he expertly demonstrated his finesse, more practiced and controlled than he had been with her in the funeral home.
Her head lowered as he moved to kiss her neck. “Aaron, I didn’t mean—”
“Shhh,” he murmured with a hard, deep stroke.
She came, faster than she would have thought possible, just from some movement he made, hitting some deep, deep spot within her.
He kept going, even as she tried to pull away. “No, no, none of that. Even the most selfish of…lovers,” his hesitation at the word tore at her, “lets the other one come too. So you stay right there, princess. It’s time I get mine.”
It felt as if he was winding her up again, with his slow careful movements, and suddenly she realized this was not giving him what he needed, whatever his casual words. She loosened his hands from her hips and scrambled away from him so quickly she caught him by surprise. She flattened her back against the wet wall as he stared at her. His penis was red and swollen, jutting out from his body, wet with her juices. He put his hands on the tiles on both sides of her, boxing her in and glowered down at her.
“Why do you keep stopping me, Virginia? More games? What’s wrong with you rich-girl types? Always has to be some kink. For you, what is it? You need to be either scared out of your wits or teasing a guy until he’s begging for it?”
“No.” She laid her palms along the side of his face, his cheeks feeling hot from the steamy shower and their even-more-steamy lovemaking. When she ran her lips delicately along his jaw, he grabbed her wrists and roughly pried her hands away, pushing her slightly. She wasn’t surprised. Nor deterred.
“I don’t want to make you beg for it, Aaron, and I’m not scared. I want to make love to you and I want to see you. You’re not—”
He grabbed her ass and lifted her in his arms, shoving his cock right back in where they both wanted it as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her arms went tightly around his neck as he braced one hand on the wall and lunged into her, holding her ass tightly with the other, looking down to where his thick cock was shoving in and out of her wet slit.
“You’re not…” It was hard for her to talk as he really got down to business, no control evidenced any longer. But she wanted to get this out. “You’re not…” He lunged and she arched. “You’re not the big bad wolf.”
They both came. She could feel him pour into her, moaning, as the spasms racked her pussy.
Panting, he loosened his grip on her and she slid down, kissing one hard shoulder, one firm pec. His mouth twisted slightly and his eyes closed. He seemed to be hesitating for a second, and she figured it was an even toss-up as to whether he’d gather her to him or push her away again. She had hurt him. And from what she could tell, he’d had too much of that in the course of his life.
But in the end, his arms went carefully around her. “I don’t believe a woman’s ever cried that particular compliment out at the moment of orgasm.”
She chuckled, resting her wet head against his chest. “You are a good guy, Aaron Winston. I don’t care what you’ve done to survive, and I have no right to judge. You’re right about that. You’ve always been right about that. I didn’t mean what I said back in the car. I didn’t. I’m done pushing you away.”
His lips went to her hair. “Thank God for that.” Then he swore. “Oh shit. I can’t believe I did that.”
“Shhh, I wanted it.”
“I mean I forgot a condom. I can’t believe I did that. I never do that.”
A condom. Shit was right. It had never entered her mind either. But that wasn’t what she wanted to talk about right now.
“Look, Aaron, I’m really bad at having, er, boyfriends.” Her confession sounded juvenile, but she was going with it.
“No worse than me at having girlfriends. I guarantee it.”
“But I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”
She took the hard hug he gave her as a yes, his face buried in her shoulder.
“I wouldn’t have hurt you, Virginia. Like that, I mean. I was just trying to—I don’t know…I was just pissed.”
“I know you wouldn’t have hurt me.”
She held her breath, wondering if he would say more, but when he didn’t, she accepted it.
He pulled back to look at her. “And no other guys. I was just trying to shock you with that.”
“I wasn’t shocked,” she said playfully.
“Yeah? Well, forget it. I’ll give you what you need. No assistance necessary. Count on it. Now, what do you say we dry off and go back to my apartment and give an actual bed a try?”
“Now who’s insatiable?”
“I meant to sleep, Miss Beckett. Insatiable I may be, but I’m not Superman.”
She laughed. “You let me be the judge of that.”
* * * * *
The next morning, the executive floor of Beckett Family Delicacies was buzzing with activity. And not the productive kind that a shareholder like Aaron necessarily liked to see. The clusters of whispering workers outside of desks and cubicles flashed startled stares as he walked by with Virginia. It didn’t exactly look as though anybody was dreaming up a new sales strategy or developing a nifty new cracker.
Virginia didn’t seem to notice as, head down, she forged through to what was apparently the entrance to her office suite.
Nice. Cool blues and polished wood and floor-to-ceiling windows.
Not as nice as his, of course, but nice.
The woman behind the desk outside Virginia’s office held out a stack of message slips to her boss.
“Not now,” Virginia said, opening her office door.
“Virginia.”
Aaron turned to the voice, noticing the slightly scruffy owner of it. The guy had been seated on one of the waiting chairs in the reception area, but stood up. Older, maybe late forties, he had that used-to-be-a-heartbreaker-but-drank-himself-to-oblivion look about him, with the red nose, the beefy jowls, the thinning hair. His suit was expensive, if marred by too bright a tie and too much jewelry, although any jewelry for a man was too much in Aaron’s view.
Executive Perks Page 17