I shrug. “Hard to take over the world from the middle of nowhere.”
“That’s my girl.” There’s legit pride in his voice as he says it, but this conversation just reveals the true divide between us. I want big cosmopolitan city, and a life of important responsibility. He wants…bikinis and no drama.
I fall silent, playing with a lime wedge.
“Let’s not talk about you leaving. Or me…escaping to an island. That’s just talk, you know.”
“Okay.” I don’t want to talk about it, either. I meant to tell him that to share that I get how family can be fucked up, and it came out all wrong. Like I’ll be flippant when what we have ends, and I won’t.
I’ll always remember Scott.
Always…
My stomach clenches hard at the thought of taking another man like I’ve taken Scott. It’s unfathomable, really, but I thought losing my virginity would be this crazy thing, and it had turned out to be wonderful.
Maybe I’ll be celibate once we part ways. I’ve certainly got enough fantasy fodder.
“Hey, smarty pants, stop that.” I look up at him and he’s holding out another shot. “One more, and then we take this party into my bedroom.”
“Not right here?”
He grins. “I’ve got a nice big headboard. I want you to hold on to it while you ride my face.”
Oh. My skin bursts into flames and I take the shot. “All right, then.”
—twenty—
Scott
“I want to take you away for the weekend,” I tell Ali, rolling onto my back. She slides against me, one of her thighs wrapping over mine. That’s all it takes. One hot press of her naked body against mine and my cock is bouncing back to attention. She laughs quietly as he taps her leg, then sways up to my belly.
It’s not fucking funny. I want back inside her. I want to mark her. Make her wet and stretch her to her max, so she’s sore tomorrow and remembers who owns her pussy.
It’s mine.
She’s mine.
God, she’s driving me out of my mind.
We need some time where I’m not working and she’s not studying. Where we can touch and kiss and fucking consume each other, non-stop. So we can quench this insane fire that burns so bright between us, I can’t even carry on a fucking conversation before rolling her onto her back and spreading her legs wide.
“I want to take you away for the weekend.”
“We could just fuck for a weekend here.”
I nip at her shoulder. “I need to go to London next week. Come with me to Europe. We’ll go to Paris for the weekend, and then when we’re in London, you can go shopping or study while I’m working.”
“That’s not taking me away for the weekend.”
“But the weekend would be all ours. No interruptions. And then real life will intrude, as it always does, but at least we’ll be together.”
“Shopping?”
“There are Agent Provocateur shops in both Paris and London. In fact, there’s one right around the corner from my flat.”
“Your flat?”
“My apartment.”
She hits me gently, but a flash of real hurt flickers across her face. Just for a second, and then it’s gone. “I know what it means. Why do you have a flat in England?”
I rub my thumb over her cheek. “I lived there for two years. I thought it made more sense to buy a place than rent—turns out, that only makes sense to Americans. Their real estate system is a bit fucked up, and now I’m stuck with this place because I can’t seem to sell it. My cousin stays there often, so it’s not vacant, but she’s also just as agreeable to not stay there should I need it for anything.”
“You’ve got a cousin in England?”
I’ve got an entire English family, but I don’t need to give her a genealogy chart. “Yeah.”
“And do you…” She licks her lips, distracting me from the conversation, and I lower my head, tasting the wet trail she’s just blazed. Her lip is soft and plump, and I pull it into my mouth. She groans and arches beneath me, but then she pulls away. “Stop it.”
“I can’t. I don’t want to, either, so maybe I’m not trying hard enough, but you drive me crazy.” I wrap my arms around her and roll onto my back.
Now she’s on top. She’s in control, and she wants to talk, she just needs to stay out of biting range.
“What was your question?”
She perches on my abs, her knees tucked together, her honey-brown waves spilling over her shoulders and hiding her breasts. Lady Godiva had nothing on Ali.
Innocent. Smart. Sexy as fuck.
And full of will-power and questions.
“Do you need it for anything?” She crosses her arms and gives me a stern look from on high.
“Next week I’m going to need it so we can play English Lord and his naughty maid.”
She sticks out her tongue, then drops her hands to my chest. “More like…a proper young lady and the naughty butler.”
Jesus. Yes. “Whatever you want.”
“Okay. But I really need to work, so only a little bit of play.”
I tug her down so I can kiss her. “I love how smart you are. My sexy fucking brainiac.”
“Yeah?” She rubs her breasts against my chest and I groan. “Sexy?”
“Unbelievably sexy. When you take over the world, I want a full time job as your gigolo.”
“You’re hired,” she whispers, raising herself up just high enough to capture my cock between her legs, the red, swollen head pointed toward me. She starts a slow, wet grind up and down my length. She likes this just as much as fucking.
“You want to see me come all over my stomach?”
She grins and nods.
“Such a cumslut.”
A mock gasp turns her lips into a perfect O.
“Too dirty?”
“Hardly. Give it to me, old man. Come for me.”
I’ve created a beautiful monster. I tip my head back and give in to the hot, slippery sensations as she demands and gets my release.
BOOTY CALL
part three
LONDON
—twenty-one—
MAY
Alison
Paris was a non-stop sexfest. So I should be sore as we take the Eurostar train to London.
I am sore, and I’ve already told Scott that, but he’s still worked his hand up my skirt and has me rocking against his fingers anyway.
I wasn’t too sore. That’s why I wore a skirt, after all.
“I love your pussy,” he murmurs in my ear. “It’s fucking juicy.”
I blush.
“And I love that you get embarrassed about that.”
“Just by the words,” I mutter.
“And it makes you gush at the same time. Dirty girl.”
My nipples tighten. How long until we get to his place? I thunk my head back against the seat and the guy behind us clears his throat. Damn it.
“Can’t move,” Scott whispers. “Still want my fingers?”
“Yes,” I breathe back.
“Let’s talk about your delicious pussy for a minute.”
“Oh, God.”
“Have you ever shaved it?”
“No.”
“Would you?”
“Yes.”
“You’d shave this pussy for me?”
I toss my head back and roll my hips, ignoring his instruction not to move. Fuck him. I want to come. “I’d shave it for me and let you enjoy it as a side benefit.”
He laughs, but he tightens his arm. “And if I wanted you to shave it for me? Would you do that?”
Yes. In a heart beat. I swallow hard. “Maybe you should do it yourself. Make sure I’m completely smooth…”
I stretch the word out until it fades into a slow, hungry breath between us as I watch his face. He’s curved around my body, blocking me from sight. I slide my hand between us and squeeze his cock. Two of us can play this torture game.
Except as soon as I start, he stops.
&nb
sp; I pout.
He laughs. “Leave my dick alone and you can come,” he whispers.
The blush crawls down my chest, towards my aching breasts, and I let him go.
“Good. When I get you to my place, I’m going to do just that, you know. I’m going to spread you out on my vanity and shave you bare. And then I’m going to lick you until you come on my face.”
Scott loves going down on me. And I love it, too, but good Lord, can anyone hear him? I close my eyes as he slides two fingers deep inside me. He doesn’t fuck them in and out of me. Instead he finds my G-spot and presses there, pulsing a bit as his thumb starts to work my clit.
“Did you know that the G-spot is the back of the clit?” he asks, quiet as a mouse. I swallow a moan and shake my head. He makes a tutting sound with his tongue. “And you’re such a smart girl. What are they teaching you at Georgetown?”
“Not that,” I pant.
He presses his fingers apart, intensifying the feeling. “It’s true. After I shave you, I’ll do this again. Give you a thorough anatomy lesson.”
“Awesome,” I say, and he leans in closer, covering my lips with a soft, gentle kiss.
Then he flicks my clit, hard, with his thumb.
I moan and he swallows my cry. He does it again and I jerk. A third time pushes me over the cliff, sending me spiraling into a free-falling climax.
Twenty seconds later, the railway equivalent of a stewardess comes by and offers us warm towels for our hands. Scott takes them both with a straight face while I reconsider my question about sex killing me.
“You’re so gorgeous when you come,” he whispers as he hands over a towel.
Yes, definitely dying.
—twenty-two—
Scott
“You have…oh my God, look at that tub!”
It amuses me that a woman raised in the lap of luxury is impressed by the claw foot bathtub in my London flat. “It’s deep,” I murmur, enjoying the swell of her ass as she braces her hands on the edge of it and leans over, stroking the far side.
“You can’t really buy tubs like this. I had a fancy soaker at my parents’ estate, but nothing this legit. Holy crap.” She groans as she straightens up. “I will be thinking about this tub all day.”
“Not me?” I smirk at her as she turns around.
“Not hardly. You, I have at my beck and call back home. This tub… my affair with this tub is going to be a limited-time event.”
And we aren’t? But I know better than to ask her that. Because we are, one way or another, although we both want to push the inevitable end out as far as possible. And not asking questions like that is part of the dance.
We’re not going to talk about what we aren’t, what we can’t be, because it’s a given.
But what we can be… “I’ll run a bath,” I hear myself saying. “And move my meetings to tomorrow.”
“Don’t be silly,” she says, but her eyes light up like it’s Christmas.
And it’s not silly. “When was the last time you had an entire day to yourself? No school work, no obligations?”
She presses her lips together. I suddenly realize the answer is her birthday weekend in New York, and I fucked that up for her, didn’t I?
I pull my phone from my pocket and fire off a text message to my brother, who is at the Mayfair Enterprises offices here.
S: Just landed at Gatwick. Delays and now rush hour. Meet tomorrow?
It’s not really a question, but I’m being courteous.
J: Fine. Swamped anyway.
I grin. “Out of the way, babe. I’ve got a tub to fill for you.” I press up against her as she stands up and brush her hair to one side. I lower my lips to her ear. “I’ve got a fresh razor in the closet in the hallway. Go and fetch it like a good girl.”
She shudders and I lazily spank her bottom. She presses against my palm.
While she’s gone, I get naked and start to fill the tub. I add bubbles, which she squeals over when she comes back. I get in first, and she joins me, settling against my front, giving me free range to play with her boobs, which look amazing floating on top of the bubbles. She protests half-heartedly when I slide my hands lower and cup her pussy.
“Gentle,” she reminds me.
My dick flexes at the memory of how many times we’ve fucked already this trip.
“I’ll be good to her,” I promise. “Super gentle.”
She spreads her legs for me. I can’t stop touching her, and not just her pussy. Every inch of her body is perfect to me, from her heavy breasts to her tight ass, and all the curves and long, lean limbs around them. She reaches back and tucks her hands behind my neck, arching her back.
I kiss one soapy arm, then turn and nuzzle behind her ear. She’s got this sensitive spot there, and when I trace it with my tongue…
“Ahhhh!”
She grinds her ass back against me.
I grin. That gives me all sorts of ideas, but she wanted a bath. I’ll give her that before I get dirty.
I sink lower into the hot, sudsy water, and she makes a little sound that punches me right in the chest. It’s pure happiness. I want to bottle this moment for her. Maybe I’ll have this tub ripped out and shipped across the Atlantic for her.
When she’s boneless and blissed out, I nudge her to turn around in my lap.
She straddles me, finding my dick and giving him a happy little squeeze with her hands. “Who knew a bath would make me this happy?”
Not me. If I’d had half a clue, we’d have done this way sooner. “Come here,” I whisper, my voice surprisingly hoarse.
She slips and falls into my chest, giggling as her lips seek mine out. Our kiss starts out lazy and silly, all lips and tongue and laughter, until she shifts on top of my erection and we notch together.
My brain short-circuits. We’ve done this once before, the first time, and I stopped myself.
Her breath huffs against my lips. Her eyes lock on mine. I’m a granite statue. This is her call.
“Just for a minute, maybe,” she says, swivelling her hips in a mini-circle.
She’s so slick. My cock is fucking begging for it. “Uhhhh….God, Ali.”
“Yeah.” She’s breathing so hard as water sloshes around us. “That’s hot, huh?”
“Shit.”
She lowers herself down, inch-by-inch, engulfing me in her heat.
I drop my head back and let my hands cup her breasts. Fucking perfect moment.
She goes slow, riding me up and down. Water’s going everywhere and I can’t get a good pinch on her nipples, she’s slick and sudsy and it doesn’t matter.
Fuuuuuck. I’m going to blow my load inside her. She’s taking her fucking sweet time, and I’m going to fill her with come if she doesn’t stop.
My head is swirling and my balls are practically drumming with excitement. Somehow—I have no fucking clue how—I manage to get my hands on her hips and stop her.
“Not yet,” I say, not quite believing myself. “I promised to shave you.”
She rocks in my lap. “But this is good, too.”
“Good? This is perfect. But we agreed to talk about it, not just…” I groan and thrust into her. I twist one hand into her hair and give her my sternest face. “When I fill you with my come, it’s going to be a deliberate fucking act. Got it?”
“So responsible,” she teases, but she climbs off and balances herself on the corner of the tub, against the wall. As if she hadn’t just scrambled all my brain cells, she lifts her legs and stretches them out along the sides of the tub. “So what do you want to do to me?”
I want to carry her to bed and do unspeakable things, but I’d promised other unspeakable things—that I really have no problem naming—so I shove my hungry dick back under the water and reach for the razor and shaving cream she’d procured from the closet.
I start by lathering myself up. She’d talked about wanting to watch me get myself off. This is just a variation on that, with shaving her in the middle.
�
�I don’t like to shave everything off,” I mutter, trying to watch her and keep working at the same time. “But I like having smooth balls.”
She’s staring at me, wide-eyed.
“Is this too dirty?” Jesus, what’s wrong with me?
She shakes her head. “Too awesome. Not too dirty. Keep going.”
I clean myself off, then sink into the water. “I thought I’d do the same for you. Leave your pretty curls on top, and shave the rest. It feels good.”
“I bet,” she breathes.
I squirt on a dollop of shaving cream and enjoy spreading it liberally over her mound and over her lips. I inspect my work area closely and decide to start on her mound, just above her clit, carefully shaving around a wide triangle of golden brown curls that would stay. Then with a few easy strokes, I bare her lips, pretty and pink and swollen. I press her open, doing a final swipe up the inside to catch any last strays, then scoop up some water with my hands and rinse her off.
She touches herself. “Oh,” she says. “That’s nice. That’s…very, very nice.”
I lean in and lick her fingers, her folds, her clit. I love my tongue over every inch of her delicious pussy, eager for more of her slippery juices. She leans back on her hands and her legs rise up out of the water. She’s like a goddess in the surf, her tits jutting out and her tiny little waist nipping in, her legs bent and wide open for me.
I want her to come undone for me. I kiss her deeper, fucking her with my tongue as she grinds against my face. It gets me so fucking hard that I’m the only man who’s ever done this to her. The only man who’s felt her tighten like a coil, who’s gotten to wind her up and taste her burst like a fucking peach.
Her juices are running down my face now, so fast I can’t even swallow them, and in the tub below her I’m jerking myself off. She reaches her orgasm before I do, her thighs slamming tight around my head, and I keep her going until she pushes me away. Then I rear up, fisting myself as I rub my cock head all over her slippery cunt.
“In me,” she whispers. “I just want to feel it.”
Booty Call Page 11