Built for Pleasure

by Sarah J. Brooks

  “Fine,” she shot back, and then she fell silent for a moment. And I knew that I had managed to shut her down this time around. I wanted to punch the air; usually, every conversation I had with Samantha I wound up just backing down to whatever crazy shit she was demanding from me. This was a win as far as I was concerned.

  “Oh, and don’t send me any more notes at work,” I told her, suddenly recalling the thing that I’d found in my coat pocket the week before.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” she demanded. “You sound crazy. I didn’t send you anything at work. I don’t even know where you work. You really think I would care enough to track that down?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I replied, shaking my head. The lady doth protest too much. “Just try to actually communicate like an adult in future, okay? With actual words, to me directly?”

  “Fuck off, Logan,” she snapped back, and just like that she hung up the phone before I even had time to remind her that she had been the one to call me.

  I dumped the phone back in my pocket and took a long deep breath before I headed back out to the floor again. She always got me wound up, even now. Every time I spoke to her, I was reminded of how badly she had fucked over my daughter, and it just made me want to chew her out and tell her everything that I had been brewing on over all these years. But that wouldn’t do any good. She would never listen to me anyway. She never did. I got these calls a few times a year, and for the most part, I was able to shut her down as soon as I indicated that she might actually have to put in the remotest effort; she would slide out of the picture again.

  Which was fine by me because I didn’t want anyone like Samantha near Erin. Samantha was precisely the kind of person who would have been defined as a bad influence; she was mean, short-tempered, had no ambition, and basically put no effort into any part of her life except making herself look good. I was more than happy keeping her away from my daughter and from me. She had seen Erin maybe five times in the last ten years, and most of those had come as a result of me not knowing any better as to say no to her. For a long time, I had believed, as she told me, that a girl needed a mother in her life, and it took me longer than I care to admit to realize that seriously wasn’t the case. At least, not when that mother was Samantha.

  “Everything alright with you?” Elijah asked as I made my way back to the floor. I plastered a smile on my face and nodded.

  “All good,” I assured him. “Just some … family stuff.”

  “Right,” he nodded, and he eyed me for a moment, clearly not buying it. “And it’s all good?”

  “All fine,” I promised him, and then I stopped. “Oh, and if you see a woman with bleached blonde hair and long nails come into this place, could you make sure she doesn’t somehow make it back to the kitchen?”

  “Uh,” Elijah furrowed his brow. “Dare I ask what this is about?”

  “It’s better if you don’t,” I assured him, and he shrugged.

  “Whatever you say. I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” I nodded, and with that, I turned to get back to work and tried not to let my mind wander to what kind of woman I thought would be a good influence on Erin. And the fact that Nina seemed to fit that bill just perfectly.

  Chapter 11

  Nina

  I arrived back from work, stretched my hands over my head, and was about to crash straight into bed and catch a few hours of a nap before I was due to go out and meet Ant for a drink later that evening. It had been a long-ass day, and I was exhausted. I needed a good long time to catch up on my sleep and make sure that I didn’t just fall apart at the seams in the next twenty minutes. But then, just tucked under the edge of the doormat, I spotted a note. Just a small one, but enough to catch my eye. My heart flipped—was it the landlord, telling me off about playing music too loudly? I picked it up gingerly, pinching it between the tips of my fingers, and turned it over. And when I saw what it actually was, a smile half a mile wide cracked over my face.

  “Nina, come upstairs. I’m waiting for you. Logan x”

  I scrunched the note up in my hands and glanced in the mirror, biting my lip, and wondering what the hell was going on. School was out, and Erin would be home, so what the hell did he have planned for me? Even amid my overthinking brain, I knew that I had to go up there and take him up on the offer; it was just too tempting to resist.

  I took a quick shower, changed my clothes, brushed my hair, and applied a little makeup, hoping I would still pass for ruffled and spontaneous when I got up there a few minutes later. I took the stairs two at a time and paused for a moment before I knocked on his door. I liked lingering in anticipation, imagining what he might have in store for me in there. But I knew anything that I could come up with in my head would be nothing compared to what he might come up with, so I rapped my knuckles on the wood and waited

  A moment or two later, the door opened, and I found Logan standing behind it in nothing but a pair of jeans. I grinned and bit my lip, giving him the once over.

  “I got your note,” I told him, stepping over the threshold.

  “Good.” He grinned and pushed the door shut behind me; there was a look on his face that I couldn’t quite get a read on, but it was sexy as hell, and seeing him shirtless was enough to send my pulse racing through the ceiling.

  “Where’s Erin?” I asked, and he shrugged

  “I put her into an after-school club for this afternoon,” he said moving toward me so that we were suddenly just an inch or two apart. I could smell him, the scent of him filling my senses from top to bottom and making my toes curl.

  “So we have this place all to ourselves?” I asked, and he nodded, reaching up to brush his thumb over my lips.

  “Thought we could finish up what we started with that kiss,” he murmured, and I grinned and went to lean in and kiss him, but all at once he pulled back just an inch, making me wait for it. I felt my heart flip in my chest.

  “What are you doing?” I asked a little nervously, but with a smile on my face.

  He pushed a strand of hair back from my face. “You’ll see,” he replied, and he leaned forward and caught my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging lightly and making my entire body tingle.

  “Mmm,” I moaned when he pulled back. I couldn’t believe the kind of power he already seemed to have over me; all this time, I had thought I was a little uptight when it came to the bedroom, that I had a hard time giving in to what I really wanted and getting turned on, but with him, I never seemed to have a problem. He was always so calm, so collected, so in-control like he knew precisely what he wanted to do to me.

  “So what exactly do you have in mind?” I asked, and he took my hand and led me through to the bedroom. He paused just before we crossed over the threshold and turned to me with a serious look in his eyes.

  “You know, if any of this freaks you out, you just tell me, right?” He nodded to me. “No problem. I want you to enjoy this as much as I will.”

  “Okay, now you’ve got me interested.” I cocked my head at him. “What exactly might freak me out?”

  “I’ll go easy on you.” He grinned, slipping comfortably back into playful mode just like that. “I just wanted to give you fair warning.”

  “Come on, give me a hint.” I bit my lip, which was still a little raw from where he’d done the same thing. “It’s only fair.”

  “There are games I like to play,” he told me, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me close. “And I haven’t had a chance to play them in a hell of a long time.”

  “And you want to play them with me?” I murmured.

  He kissed me again, pushing his tongue into my mouth, making my feet feel like they were rooted to the floor. He nodded as he pulled back.

  “Let me show you what I’m talking about,” he told me, and he moved behind me and pulled the T-shirt I was wearing over my head. With deft fingers, he undressed me swiftly, undoing my bra and tossing it aside, taking off my jeans and throwing them into t
he corner of the room until I was wearing nothing but the pair of black lace panties I had slipped on after my shower. He stepped away and walked around me, looking me up and down as though he was considering what to do with me. I crossed my arms over my chest, a little self-consciously, but he pushed them away so that I was completely exposed to him.

  “I want to see you,” he murmured, and his gaze flicked up to meet mine, and I knew at once that this was part of the game; I had to do whatever I was told, and I was more than happy to oblige. I stood there looking at him as he took me in, moving all the way around me. Even when I couldn’t see him, I could feel his gaze burning fiercely into my body as though it was branding me.

  “You look so fucking good like that,” he murmured, and suddenly he reached out a finger and traced it all the way down my spine; the touch was sudden, and I didn’t realize just how badly I’d been craving it until that very moment, and a moan escaped my mouth before I could stop it.

  “You like it when I touch you?” he asked, and I nodded.

  “Tell me,” he ordered, and the firmness in his voice sent something smoldering to life inside me. I’d had guys try to do this with me before, this kinky stuff, but none of them had ever made me actually believe it before this; with him, I felt as though my entire body was being set on fire, as though he was a puppeteer leading me with strings to do everything he wanted. I was helpless to resist, and I was surprised at how much I liked that feeling.

  “I like it when you touch me,” I breathed. Something about hearing the words come out of my mouth, hearing him draw them from me, ratcheted my desire up a notch or two. Or ten.

  “You have to speak to me, alright?” He moved in close, winding an arm around my waist from behind and murmuring the words straight into my ear. “You have to tell me what you want. That’s the only way I’m going to give it to you.”

  “Right,” I managed to reply, and that seemed to satisfy him.

  He scooped me up off my feet, making me squeal, and laid me down on the bed; I went to pull him close to me, but he pulled back.

  “Remember, you have to tell me,” he warned me, and I had a feeling that there would be repercussions if I didn’t take him seriously.

  “Kiss me,” I asked breathlessly, and he leaned down and obliged, pressing his mouth against mine and kissing me just as he had outside the door that time; deep, hard, passionate, impossibly sexy, and impossibly him. He pulled back and grinned, and then pushed my arms up over my head.

  “Mmm,” I squirmed on the bed, watching as he crossed my wrists and pressed them against the headboard.

  “Don’t move,” he told me, and he produced a thin tie from his back pocket; wrapping it around my wrists, he used the soft fabric to bind me in place. I strained against it, but I couldn’t get out, and something about that restriction was so hot I was having trouble catching my breath. Or remembering to breathe at all.

  “I’ve wanted you like this since I first saw you,” he murmured, once again walking around me like he was admiring his handiwork. A grin curled up on his face, but there was nothing sweet or tender about it. It was the first time I had really seen him this way, and I was already finding myself addicted to it, loving it, craving it.

  He climbed onto the bed with me and lifted my hips up, sliding my panties down my legs and tossing them aside so that I was bare-ass naked in front of him. He was still wearing his jeans, and something about the contrast of his clothed body and my naked one made the power differential even more intense.

  “Spread your legs,” he told me, and I hesitated for a moment before I did as I was told; I had never had anyone look at me, really look at me, when I was this naked. Most of the guys I’d been with before were always hurrying towards the main event at this stage, but he wanted to take his time, and I was a little unaccustomed to dealing with that. But after a moment, I did as I was told and parted my thighs for him and was rewarded with a long, low growl for my troubles.

  “You look so fucking hot like that,” he murmured, moving between my legs; his mouth was slightly parted, as though he could already taste me, but he took his time before he did anything with it, running his hands up and down my legs first, over my lower belly, skimming his fingers over my bush. I was already getting seriously wet, and I just wanted some relief, but he was going to make me beg for it, I could tell. I wriggled on the bed again, fighting the urge to push my pussy up towards him, to find that relief that I needed so very badly. But I knew it would be worth my while if I could just hold myself back, just for a little longer, just until—

  His mouth found the inside of my thigh, and I felt as though I was going to burst into flames. I bit my lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that this was getting me off so damn well. How could he do this so torturously? Wasn’t he getting there himself? He must have been hard, and yet he was acting as though he was in total and utter control of himself where I was falling apart.

  “Ask me,” he commanded, and I swallowed heavily and tried to remember how exactly to form words.

  “I …” I searched the words to articulate what I knew I needed to. They came up short.

  “Tell me, Nina,” he ordered me, and the sound of my name on his lips was nearly painful. I tried again.

  “I want you to go down on me.” I finally came out with it, and the desperation that tinged my voice was thick. The chemistry between us felt like it was pressing down on me, consuming me, controlling me.

  “Again,” he told me, and I could feel the hint of his breath on my pussy.

  I groaned. “Please, Logan,” I pleaded with him. “I need you to … I need you to eat me out …”

  And finally, he pressed his mouth to my cunt, and I felt as though every nerve ending in my body had centered between my legs.

  I tipped my head back and let out a cry of pleasure as he slipped his hands beneath my ass and drew me to his mouth. He sucked softly on my clit, the pressure intense after this much build-up, and I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, trying to remind myself that this was really happening, to bring myself back to the moment. I looked down at him, and the sight of his mouth buried against my pussy was nearly more than I could handle. I wanted him with such an agonizing intensity that even this wasn’t enough. I began to move my hips back against him, demanding that release, and he met me as best he could, sucking and licking and lapping and using me like every part of his life depended on it.

  “Oh my God, Logan,” I groaned. The pleasure wasn’t coming fast enough—I could have come on the spot and still felt that craving, that ache for more. He trailed his tongue lazily across my clit and then lifted his hand so that he could slide his fingers in a V-shape over either side of my over-sensitized nub; the tension, the feeling of it pulled taut, made my skin prickle with need.

  “Please, please, please,” I panted. I didn’t know what else I could say, how else I could communicate that I needed this orgasm, needed him to make me come. He looked up at me, and I could see the gloss of my wetness on his lips, and that was nearly enough to push me over the edge right then and there. Finally, he lowered his mouth down to me once more, and this time he seemed intent on making me come, licking in slow, persistent strokes with his softened tongue, and I felt the orgasm stirring inside of me, tensing my muscles, filling my senses, my head feeling as though it was about to explode on the spot—

  “Fuck!” I yelled at the top of my lungs as the orgasm hit me, for once not having to worry about keeping my voice down. The pleasure took me off-guard, my body feeling like it was spinning out of control, passing over me in long, luscious waves. I wanted to grasp his head, to touch him and hold him and feel him, but my arms were still bound above me, and I couldn’t do anything but lie there, helpless, as he continued to go down on me.

  I wasn’t sure how many times he made me come with his mouth. Not many men could have taken me that far—the sensitivity would usually grow much too fast, and I would need to take a break for a while to calm down between orgasms, but
he knew just how to take me, tease me, going so softly after I’d come and applying pressure again until I found myself cresting towards a climax once more. It got so that I could barely tell them apart, feeling them writhe into each other, groaning and gasping and helpless to his touch.

  He eventually pulled back when my moans had been reduced to something more human, and he moved on top of me, kissing me softly on the cheek as I caught my breath and returned down to Earth.

  “You okay?” he asked, and it took me a good long moment to be able to actually say anything to him. My brain felt as though it had been switched off, or at least switched to some new plane, somewhere I had never been before, where there was nothing but pleasure and him and the feeling of his body against mine.

  “Amazing,” I finally replied, and I hooked an ankle around him and drew him towards me. I needed more, and I needed it now, and he seemed all too happy to give me what I wanted.

  “Please,” I murmured once more, knowing now how much power those words had over him, and he didn’t need telling twice; he reached across to grab a condom and swiftly sheathed himself, kicking off the rest of his clothes as he did so. And then, to my surprise, he unbound my arms and released me. I flexed my wrists back and forth a couple of times and grinned at him.

  “You want my hands free, huh?” I teased, and he grabbed me by the hips and flipped me over; I pushed myself up on my trembling arms, even though I felt like they were going to give out beneath me. The strength had been sapped from my body, and yet all I wanted, all I wanted in the world was more.

  He ran his hands over my ass and my thighs and my back and let out a small groan of appreciation. I grinned and wiggled my butt back and forth a little, letting him know that I was ready for whatever he wanted to give to me. He didn’t need telling twice. I craned over my shoulder to see him taking his cock into his hand and guiding it against my pussy; I was so wet that it just slid all the way in, my slickness taking him, and I moaned softly as he entered me for the first time.