by Jaci Burton
“Now,” she said, lifting her head to look up at him as she wrapped her hand around his cock. “What were you saying about someone sucking your dick?”
She was on her knees, a blonde goddess with silver dangling earrings, her blue eyes seeming to glitter in the darkness.
“The only lips I want around my cock are yours.”
Her lips tilted, her hand doing very distracting things to him. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
He slid his hand over the silky softness of her hair. She tilted her head back, her sweet lips curving to smile up at him.
“I’m going to rock your world, Trick.”
She always did, and the anticipation of it tightened him as she continued to stroke his cock with easy, lazy strokes. Her hand was so much smaller, softer than his, but he definitely liked the feel of her hand around him. She took her time teasing him, rolling her thumb across the head, then lifting his cock up, pressing it against his belly and dipping her head down. And when she took his balls into her mouth, he couldn’t hold back the epic curse that spilled from his lips.
It was so goddamned good to feel his balls tucked into her hot, wet mouth, to feel her tongue rolling over his ball sac. He was steely hard and aching to explode, and she hadn’t even put his cock between her lips yet.
When she slid his balls from her mouth, he groaned.
She cupped them in her hands. “Yeah, you like that.”
He shuddered out a breath. “You know I do.”
“You like this even more.” She lifted on her knees, then took the tip of his cock and slid her tongue around the head, before engulfing him in her mouth, taking him deep.
He shuddered in a breath, mesmerized by her mouth. Watching her and feeling the way she took him in was magic. She knew him well, and she liked to take a long, slow journey when she sucked him. It was torture, but the best kind.
“Yeah, I like what you do, Stell.” He cupped the back of her head, thrusting into her mouth. He could come, but he didn’t want to spend what he had down her throat. Not when all he’d been thinking about was sinking into her and having those fantastic legs of hers wrap around him while he buried himself deep.
But this—this was so damn good he needed a few minutes of watching her. And goddamn it was hard not to lean back and let her go at it until he released. Because she could take him there so fast.
He finally pulled back, then lifted her, flipping her so her back was against the wall. He saw the challenge in her eyes.
“You take me right to the edge,” he said, before kissing her, sliding his fingers into the softness of her hair. She moaned against his lips and his cock brushed her hips. He moved his hand down, unbuttoning her jeans.
Damn tight jeans women wore, making it hard for a man to get his hands inside. While he sure appreciated the effect when he looked at her, it wasn’t making his job any easier. He tugged one side, then the other, finally sighing in frustration.
“Christ. Are these things glued on?”
She laughed. “I have every confidence you can get my pants off.”
“Never failed before.”
He struggled his way past the offending denim, finally dragging the jeans down her legs and off.
“The things you women go through,” he said, happy to see red silk panties.
“But my ass looks great in these jeans.”
“It does.” He slid his hands up her legs. God, he loved her legs. So strong, so soft, and as he moved upward, he parted them, rewarded by the soft, hot, wet part of her. He slipped his fingers between, teasing her by rubbing over the silk of her panties.
“Those can go, too,” she said.
“Can they?” He nuzzled her hip, then used his teeth to drag one side of her underwear down, kissing the area he’d bared. She smelled like cinnamon and hot, musky sexual desire, and he couldn’t wait to put his mouth on her.
He pressed a kiss to her hip, then rolled his tongue along the soft juncture between her thigh and her sex. She moaned, her body wriggling against his mouth. And when he flicked his tongue against her clit, she arched backward, driving against his face.
She was soft here, giving her body to him in every way, telling him without words what she needed. This was where tough Stella melted into softness, and as he licked the length of her, she whimpered—the sweetest sound.
He wanted her to come, to give over to him completely. But he also wanted her teetering right on the edge, just like him. It had been a long time since he’d been with her, and he wanted both of them to orgasm when he was inside her.
So he took her there one lick at a time, feeling her body, remembering every taste, every scent, every way she moved until he knew she was close. Then he pulled back and stood.
She lifted her head, her eyes dazed with passion. He leaned over her, pulling off her shirt, unhooking her bra so he could slide it down her arms. He took a taste of her nipples, pulling one peak into his mouth for a long suck.
“Goddammit, Trick,” she whispered, grasping his head to hold him to her breast. “Do that again.”
He did, on the other side, drawing her nipple into his mouth, teasing her until she yanked his hair.
“Stop.”
He withdrew.
“Too much?” he asked, hovering over her.
“God, no. Too good. I need you inside me.”
Good to know they both wanted the same thing.
He took her hand and pulled her up, then walked with her into his bedroom. She fell onto her back on his bed and he reached into the nightstand for a condom.
“Always ready, aren’t you?”
He shed his jeans and the rest of his clothes, then handed her the packet.
“For you? Yeah. Always.”
FIVE
Stella drew in a breath at the sight of Trick standing over her. Naked, his erection prominent, his body a fucking work of art, all she could do was stare and appreciate that tonight he was hers again.
As he climbed onto the bed, she reached for his cock, wrapping her fingers around his length. She tore open the condom wrapper and applied it, then scooted down the bed.
There had never been any awkwardness between her and Trick. From the first night, it was as if they had known each other forever. Their chemistry had been hot and instantaneous, and it had continued like that until they’d lost touch. And now, months and months later, they picked up right where they had left off, knowing each other’s bodies, their likes and dislikes. And as he parted her legs and slid inside her, she ached with the knowledge that this was a man she was connected to beyond just the physical.
No. She was not emotionally connected to Trick. She couldn’t be, because she wouldn’t allow it. He was fun and sexy and damn good in bed, and as she lifted and her body responded, she focused on that and that alone, because it was all she’d let herself have.
But oh, it was so good, the way he mastered her body, the way his hands glided over her hips and butt, clenching and arching her toward him so he could thrust deeper, giving her the ultimate in pleasure. Because the one thing she’d always loved—or rather liked—about Trick was that he made sure she got hers first.
He dropped his pelvis and ground against her. Every synapse in her brain exploded, sending pleasure right to her clit.
She lifted her gaze to his, arching against him, needing more. “Yes. That makes me come.”
He gave her a supremely confident smile. “I know. I feel your pussy tighten around me when I do that, and it feels so goddamn good.”
But he was still a man who liked to tease, to prolong the action to make sure that when she went off, she went wild. So he withdrew, easing out, then slowly inching back in.
“Trick,” she warned, wanting to feel that deeper connection.
“Like this?” he asked.
And then he was there again, meeting her st
roke for stroke, until she had no words left, because all she could do was hold on. Her world was rocking on its axis, then shattering all around her. She quaked with the force of it, dug her nails into his shoulders, and cried out with the power of her orgasm. Trick was right there with her, his mouth buried against her neck, causing chills to erupt all over her skin. And when he thrust over and over, groaning against her when he came, she held tight to him and closed her eyes, just feeling him as he rocked against her until he settled.
It was always like this with them. So fun at the beginning, and then so intense it shook her to her very core. But Trick was like a drug, and no matter how many times she left his place and she swore it was going to be the last time, she knew she’d want more.
He was very dangerous, but she was a strong woman. She’d walked away from him before, and she could do it again.
She would do it again.
Trick withdrew and left to dispose of the condom, then climbed onto the bed and pulled her against his chest. Unlike a lot of men, he didn’t seem to have a problem with holding her after sex. Usually she was the one who was disconnected, needing that emotional distance. Tonight, though, she’d allow it. She enjoyed being back in his arms again.
“Hungry for that pizza now?” he asked as he smoothed his hands up and down her stomach.
“Stop. We are not having pizza.”
“Look at your stomach. You look undernourished.”
She laughed. “Trust me. I eat plenty. I have to or I’d pass out during rehearsals. I could use a little protein, though. You’ve depleted my reserves.”
He rolled her over onto her back, then raised her arms above her head, pinning them with his hand. A rush of pleasure enveloped her.
“Is that right? If I depleted them a little more, can we order a pizza?”
He nibbled around her nipple, licked it, flicked it with his tongue, then devoured it with his mouth. Heated pleasure enveloped her.
“If you keep doing that, you can have anything you want.”
He lifted his head. “Oh, I’m just getting started. By the time I’m done, we’re going to have breadsticks, too.”
“Give it your best shot.”
He moved his hand between her legs, teasing her with his fingers. She wanted to touch him, but he still held her wrists with one hand, leaving her helpless. Not that she minded, especially with the way he stroked her with easy movements, coaxing her arousal. And when he dipped a finger inside her, she was already hot and ready to come again.
“You’re wet, your pussy tightening around my finger,” he said, whispering in her ear, his voice dark with promise. “I’m hard again, ready to fuck you. I think this time I want you on a pillow on your belly so I can enter you from behind. I love looking at your ass while I’m fucking you, Stella.”
Her belly tumbled, a mix of desire and the visual of Trick pumping into her from behind. “Do it. Let’s do it now.”
He released her wrists, grabbed a couple of pillows, and plumped them up in the center of the bed.
“On your stomach on those,” he said, helping her get into position by grasping her hips. He moved in between her legs. “That’s it. Get your ass up in the air.”
His words never failed to turn her on. He put on a condom, and she felt his legs brush against hers.
“I love your ass, Stella. So tight and beautiful.” He ran his hands over her butt, gave her a light slap.
She shivered at the unexpected sting, but it only made her pussy quiver. “I liked that.”
“Want more?”
“Yes.”
He smacked the other butt cheek, and she arched upward.
This time, he slid his cock into her, grasping her butt cheeks as he withdrew and thrust. And when he smacked her again, she tightened around him.
“You’re hot. Wet. And you like a little spanking, don’t you?”
“Yes. Fuck me.”
She was wild with the need for him. For what he did to her. For the things he made her feel. The sting of the swats only served to ratchet up her desire—a hot, coiling need of pleasured agony. She reached between her legs to rub her clit, to take her right where she needed to be.
“Are you going to make yourself come?” he asked, smacking her again. The red-hot sting almost tipped her over the edge, but she held back, wanting him to go with her.
“Yes. Oh, God, yes. Fuck me, Trick, make me come.”
He dug his fingers into her hips and she knew from the hard thrusts he wasn’t far from going off himself. She hung on the barest edge, suspended, and when he gave her the last smack, she went over, this time with him, his groans and hard pumps into her sending her into a moaning orgasm that wracked her with wild shudders, leaving her spent and exhausted.
Trick smoothed his hand over her butt.
“You okay?”
She dredged up enough breath to nod and say, “Perfect.”
He leaned over her and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. “Perfect is right.”
They ended up having pizza, salad, and breadsticks. She was going to have to dance her ass off next week to work it all off.
SIX
Stella lay on the floor of the old theater where they rehearsed, her breaths sawing in and out.
“Get your ass up, Stella. We’re not done yet.”
At the moment she longed for something sharp so she could shove it in Lawrence’s scrawny neck. Unfortunately, that would be homicide and she’d lose her job and her paycheck.
She stared up at the rigging and the lights, pondering whether that was a bad idea or not. As she lay in a pool of sweat, every muscle in her body screaming in agony, she weighed the options.
Nope. Not a bad idea at all at the moment. In prison, she’d probably get a lot more rest. And food.
“Come on, honey. I’ll help you up.”
She took the hand offered by Lisa Jeffries, her friend and co-dancer. Launching to her feet, Stella winced as she stretched.
“He’s a dick,” Lisa said as they stood side by side. “I think he gets off on seeing us suffer.”
Stella watched Lawrence walk away. “I don’t think. I know he does. What’s with the extra rehearsal time this week? The show doesn’t open until next spring. We haven’t even moved into the theater where we’ll be performing the show yet.”
Lisa nodded, raising her arms above her head to extend the stretch. “If he keeps this up, we’ll all be dead by then.”
Stella was so damned excited to be one of the lead dancers in a Broadway musical. She had no problem with a grueling rehearsal schedule, or a choreographer who demanded perfection in his dancers. She had a high expectation of herself, and she’d work nonstop to make sure her performance was perfect.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t bitch, moan, and whine about how hard it was. They all did. It was a perk of the job.
They rehearsed the opening scene for seven hours that day, over and over again until Stella wanted to scream every time the music played.
“By the time this show debuts, I’m going to hate every note of music in it,” Stella said after they were finally cut loose for the day and made their way back to the dressing-room areas.
Lisa nodded. “I wonder if the singers feel the same way. Can you imagine having to practice those songs over and over and over again for months?”
“I imagine they do.” Stella paused in packing up her bag to look over at Lisa. “But then it’s opening night and it’s like the very first time you’ve ever heard the music or danced to those songs. And it’s so exciting your heart wants to leap out of your chest, ya know?”
Lisa grinned. “I do know that feeling. And we’re leads this time, Stella. You and I have danced together for five years. Remember starting out in the back of the chorus, where no one could even see us?”
“Yes.” Stella took a seat. “Just
another in a sea of dancers, indistinguishable. But we’re dancing leads in this one. We’ll be at the front of the stage.”
She could hardly believe it was true. Years of hard work, of paying her dues, of taking shit jobs just so she could cover the rent, had finally paid off. She had worked nonstop in a lot of shows, and she was a damn good dancer. She never took time off, and as soon as one show closed, she hit the audition circuit for another.
Now, she was going to be at the front of that stage, dancing in every scene.
She glanced over at Lisa, who’d been just like her. A beautiful young woman with dark skin, a sea of tightly wound black curls, and a true dancer’s body—all hard muscle and perfect lines. Working hard, perfecting her craft, and by Stella’s side every step of the way. They’d often been competitors for the same part, but they’d always been friends.
“As much as I hate these rehearsals, Lisa, I also love what’s going to happen on opening night. This is a big damn deal and we’ve worked our asses off for it.”
“Amen, sister. Now I’m going to go home to my husband and beg him for a foot massage. Thank God for a man with big, strong hands.”
The thought of someone giving her a foot massage made Stella groan. “Lucky woman.”
Lisa pointed one slender finger at her. “You could have yourself a man. You push them all away.”
Stella zipped up her bag and grabbed her coat, sliding her arms into it. “This is true. I have enough on my plate without dealing with a man in my life.”
Lisa shrugged into her jacket. “Honey, you don’t know what you’re missing. Let me remind you. Foot. Massage. Did I mention Louis gives amazing back massages as well?”
Stella laughed. “You’re a cruel woman, my friend.”
Lisa waggled her brows. “Don’t I know it. I’m just trying to remind you what you’re missing by going the single route.”
“I know what I’m missing. And what I’m not missing. You go enjoy your hot husband and his amazing hands. I’m going home to my bathtub.”
Lisa left and Stella grabbed her bag, planning to go home and take a bath as well. Maybe soak for an hour. Or two. Or three.