Bedwrecker

by Kim Karr

  “Never mind.”

  Kyle smiles and leans closer. “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this all alone?”

  I practically spit out my drink. “You did not just say that!”

  “Yeah, I did. Do you have a better suggestion for a line to pick up a beautiful woman?”

  I give him a little snap of my tongue. “Considering I just told you why I was here, I think you need to concentrate more on the conversations you are having and less on the boobs you think you are having them with.”

  Embarrassed, he bows his head. “My bad.”

  Yeah, I’m not only empathetic, but I like the attention, so I don’t kick him to the curb. Don’t look at me like that. Tell me you wouldn’t feel the same in my situation. I point my finger at him. “You’re in luck because I am willing to help you out. My roommate is a screenwriter and I feel like all we do is watch movies and discuss the best lines. How about this one? ‘Now on the one hand, it’s very difficult for a man to even speak to someone who looks like you. But on the other, shouldn’t that be your problem?’”

  “Hitch,” he calls out.

  I snap my finger and point to him with a wink. “Bingo.”

  He downs his scotch. “But I think the line is, ‘should that be your problem?’”

  Following suit, I down my drink and slam the glass down. “I don’t think so, but I’m not sure.” I laugh.

  Another drink and way too many movie lines later, I think I have little Kyle here more prepared to pick up women.

  The piano player begins to play “Layla” by Eric Clapton and I start to move to the beat. “God, I love this song.”

  Kyle puts his hand on my thigh. “I’ve never heard it, but do you want to dance?”

  Slowly, tactfully, I put my hand over his and try to ease it off my leg. “Kyle, you’re a little young for me, don’t you think?”

  He slides his hand back up my leg. “I’m twenty-two. How old are you?”

  This time I let tactful fall by the wayside. “Too old for you.”

  Although technically the three-to-four-year age difference probably wouldn’t have mattered before. Before Keen. The truth is I am not interested in him or anyone, except Keen.

  And doesn’t that make me sigh.

  The persistence is getting annoying as he slides his hand back up my thigh. “We could take this to my room?”

  “Or better yet, you could take that hand of yours back up to your room and use it to jerk off, kid—now get lost.”

  My head snaps around to see Keen towering over us, his dark gaze flicking between Kyle and me.

  My little pupil jumps to his feet in a fit of fright. I have to admit, Keen is looking pretty damn intimidating right now, even to me.

  “I’ll just be going,” Kyle says and then looks at me. “It was nice to meet you, Maggie.”

  “You too, Kyle.” I smile and give him a little wave.

  “Kyle,” Keen hisses.

  When Kyle is out of earshot, I twist around in my seat. “What the hell was that?”

  Keen’s fingers are clenching into fists at his sides and it takes him a few seconds to say anything. “That was me, with all my restraint.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Why are you here?”

  “Why are you?” he huffs.

  I say nothing. Suddenly pleading the fifth seems like the best course of action.

  “You weren’t where you were supposed to be, Maggie.” He stresses my name as if pushing it through his teeth.

  I twist back around and look at the half glass of whiskey I have left. I must be getting old, because there is no way I’m going to finish that.

  As if reading my thoughts, Keen’s hand wraps around my glass and he downs it like a shot.

  “Hey,” I protest, “that was mine.”

  He takes hold of my elbow and gently guides me off the stool. “I need it to handle you right now, and besides, you’re done. It’s time to go back to the room.”

  I jerk out of his hold. “What if I don’t want to?”

  His features harden, and I swear he breathes in a deep gust of air as if to calm himself down.

  Calm himself down!

  What about me?

  He’s the one sexting his women all over the city.

  “What has your panties in such a wad?” I ask with a snicker. Okay, I might be a little buzzed.

  Instead of answering, he grips my elbow again and begins marching us both right out of the Waldorf Astoria.

  I’m not sure why, but I let him. Okay, I know why, and so do you. I like the feel of his skin against mine, his hard body next to mine, and I love that scent that makes me drool.

  Sad, but true.

  He manhandles me right out onto Park Avenue and as crazy as it sounds, I find it sexy.

  As soon as the cool air of Forty-ninth Street hits my face, though, it is like sober slams right into me. Suddenly I’m aware of just how pissed I am, despite how much I really like the fact that he came to find me.

  Hey, just being honest.

  I whirl around. “Are you done,” and I air quote, “‘catching up’ with your little girlfriend?”

  Confusion sets across his brows.

  “Sar . . . rah.” Okay, it shouldn’t have two r’s and sounds rather childish, but I don’t care.

  “What the hell, Maggie—Sarah?”

  “Yes, Sarah with the hugs and kisses.”

  Keen looks at me, and I mean really looks at me, and then starts laughing.

  What.

  The.

  Hell?

  I shoot him my dirtiest look. “You are an asshole,” I mutter and whip around. Luckily it isn’t that far to the hotel, and if I can get there before him, I am so locking him out of the room.

  Quick footsteps behind me have me walking faster and my adrenaline pumping. But then his arm is around me and he’s whirling me around in his wool trench coat and messy hair looking like a GQ model. Gagh! And that thought makes me even madder.

  “Maggie.”

  Again with my name.

  “What?” I snap.

  “I haven’t seen Sarah in two years.”

  “Well, somehow she magically got your new number, and from that text message, she also magically knows you’re in town and she is looking to . . . ‘catch up.’” I air quote the last words—you know, for effect.

  That smirk remains in place, and it infuriates me. “My brother called her looking for me last week. I’m sure she must have called him to check on me—that’s how she got my number and knew I’d be in town.”

  Flabbergasted, I motorboat my lips together. “Right. A little convenient, don’t you think?”

  “If you would have read the whole thing, you’d know it’s true.”

  I straighten my shoulders. “I speed-read it, you know . . . to the ‘meet for drinks like old times’ part, and the ‘XOXO’ part.”

  Clearly frustrated with me, he pulls his phone from his suit jacket and swipes the screen, taps a few buttons, and thrusts it toward me. “Read it, Maggie—this time all of it. She says she talked to my brother. And you also might want to notice, I don’t have her assigned as a contact.”

  I read it, and my stance droops a little. Hey, I read it fast the first time so I wouldn’t get caught reading it, okay? And not on purpose. It popped up on his screen when I was making a call from his phone. Then I couldn’t ignore it. It’s not like you wouldn’t have read it either.

  “Now read what I answered her back,” he says, rather calmly, I have to say. I would not be so calm if I were him. Just saying.

  Next, I read his text, my stance slouching even more, and when I finish, I look up at him. “So you weren’t sexting her?”

  That laughter is back. “No, the one I was sexting is you.”

  “So you aren’t interested in her?”

  He shakes his head no. “Maggie, you are the only girl I’m interested in.”

  I find myself invading his space, making room for myself as close as po
ssible. “Oh, I might have jumped to conclusions.”

  “‘Oh’? That’s all you have to say?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I also said I jumped to conclusions.”

  “Yes, you think!” His voice is loud.

  “Turns out, I’m a very jealous woman; I can’t help that.”

  Those eyes narrow on me. “The only reason I’m not putting you over my knee right now is because I get that.”

  “You do?”

  “Maggie, Maggie, Maggie,” he murmurs. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Whatever you want,” I breathe. “Anything you want.” Then I add, “Well, not the spankings. I’ve never been spanked and I’m not a fan of pain.”

  Those eyes darken as he shakes his head and suddenly he’s not smiling anymore. In fact, he’s entirely serious.

  Cars speed by with horns honking. People pass us on the street. The streetlights glow and snowflakes fall and melt on the ground. But all I can really see, all I can really hear, all I can really smell, is him.

  There’s a fire in his eyes, and when he looks at me I swear I’m the one burning. And then, as if the flame is too hot and he can’t take it anymore, his head dips and his lips come crashing down on mine.

  And I kiss him back. Boy do I kiss him back. I wind my arms around his neck and curl my fingers in his hair, tugging it, making him groan.

  Our tongues stroke in desperation, searching for even ground that I’m not sure we’ll ever find, and not sure I want to find it.

  Our mouths pull at each other for an eternity, or maybe more like five minutes, and then he leans back and brushes his thumbs against my cheeks. “I don’t know what this is developing between us, and I want to find out. But you have to know, the thought of any other man’s hands on you is enough to drive me to the brink of insanity.”

  I lean back and use my linked hands as support. “Keen, I was not interested in that guy at the bar one bit.”

  “I know,” he growls into the cold night air. “Or I would have broken his hand.”

  I gasp at the thrill of his jealousy, although I know I shouldn’t.

  Wouldn’t you, though?

  “Still, Maggie, you left and didn’t tell me. I couldn’t even concentrate tonight not knowing what the hell was going on with you. That is not like me. At all. And then I had to backtrack your steps to find you because you weren’t where you were supposed to be. Do you have any idea how infuriating this night has been?”

  The wind picks up and I shiver. “I do. And I’m sorry. It’s just I was mad at you.”

  Keen pulls me right up close to his body. “I know and I get it. If I saw something like that on your phone, I’d feel the same way. That’s the only reason I’m remaining sane right now. But you have to know that I want you to be mine, Maggie—how do you not get that?”

  I’m trembling, and I swear the earth is moving under my feet. Trying to keep myself from attacking him right here on the sidewalk, I take him by the collar of his trench coat. “I do now, Keen. I do now.”

  Be his?

  “So we’re clear. No one else, just you and me.”

  It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “We’re clear.”

  Keen straightens and wraps his arm around me, tucking me into his side. “Good,” he says, and then swats my ass. “Now, let’s get back to the hotel. It’s fucking freezing out here, and you have some apologizing to do.”

  My breath hitches and I give him a nod. And then as I snuggle close to him, I can’t help but think . . . Keen Masters is my boyfriend.

  And for as long as I can remember, I am actually okay with putting a label on it.

  On us.

  On him.

  Keen

  One New York block can seem like a hundred when you’re in a hurry, but seven seems like an eternity.

  We walk as fast as we can arm-in-arm. Time is of the essence. We say nothing more. That will just slow us down. We touch as much as possible with coats on and people all around.

  Step by step the tension between us rises and twists, coiling tighter and tighter.

  I really can’t fucking take another minute of waiting.

  Finally, we’re in the elevator and I wish we were in it alone. Because if we were, I’d have my hands up her skirt, checking to see if she removed her panties despite being pissed at me. Then I’d have my fingers inside her, one, then two, then three, and I’d finger-fuck her until she screams my name.

  Over and over and over.

  The door opens and as a couple is ushered out, I lean in and palm Maggie’s ass under her coat. I can tell right away that she’s not wearing panties and my dick instantly swells in my pants.

  She shivers under my touch. Then she looks at me with pouty lips, and if that doesn’t set my blood on fire . . . She knows exactly what I’m doing. And she knows I know she listened to my command.

  “Good girl,” I whisper.

  She rolls her eyes.

  I move slightly away from her and mouth, “For that you can go without wearing panties the rest of the week.”

  “Tell me why?”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes, I’d like to know what you get out of that, other than having control over me.”

  I raise a brow and whisper into her ear, “The obvious. I can steal a touch of that pussy that dreams are made of whenever I want. Swipe a finger inside you while we’re in a cab just because I want to feel you. Push you into a dark corner and circle your clit. I can even make you come if I want.”

  Mouth parting, she understands me perfectly, and there is no further eye roll. Besides, I think she knows I won’t hesitate to spank her otherwise.

  In fact, I just might to prove my point.

  And yes, it is about control, but the thrill of having access to her is just as appealing. I’ve never played sex games, but with her, they seem like so much fun. And her reaction is always one I enjoy.

  When the car stops at another floor, a few more people get out, and she can finally breath again. That’s when she whispers in my ear, “I’ll be good.”

  And yes, I’ll make her come, but I won’t tell her that now. That would ruin the fun of the game for tomorrow. But I do smirk at her and then slide my mouth to whisper something in her ear. “I want to fuck that smart mouth of yours so bad.”

  Her lips part on a huge sigh.

  The rest of the elevator ride is torture and to pass the seconds, we steal glances and cast smirks and give quick touches. Then we’re on our floor, walking quickly until we reach our hotel room door. And then we’re finally stepping past the threshold—and we’re all alone.

  Maggie grabs my tie and tugs me inside the room, and then she shrugs my trench off and pushes me against the wall.

  I let her.

  In turn, I kick the door closed, tug her coat off, and rip her blouse open. Before the buttons even fall to the ground, she’s on her knees in front of me.

  Holy fuck.

  Without fumbling she yanks my belt open. Undoes my button and unzips my zipper. My straining cock pushes at the front of my boxers and I’m in her fist before I even have a chance to make a sound.

  Maggie uses one knee to nudge my legs farther apart as she pulls my pants down to my thighs. My boxers, too. I’m mostly naked for her in half a minute.

  My cock pulses against her palm as she skims her hand upward, barely brushing my head, but enough that my hips jerk forward in excitement. As soon as they do, she grips my shaft, keeping me in place.

  Oh, fuck.

  I flatten my palms against the wall and hold on. I have never been at a woman’s mercy like this. Sure, I’ve been blown a million times, but never when I wasn’t the one in control. And never have I wanted it as much as I do right now.

  I look down at her, my gaze darkening with an unbelievable bout of lust. Her gaze drifts up, and I see in it the same.

  And in that single moment that our eyes lock, she opens her mouth and lets her hot breath seep over my hotter flesh.

&n
bsp; It makes me shiver.

  With a smile on her face, she brushes my cock against her cheek, close, so close, and yet my tip is not quite close enough to be inside her mouth.

  Lower.

  Lower.

  A little lower.

  Not low enough.

  Shit.

  Teasing me, she breathes against my cock as her hand works it. And then she turns her head, mouthing the inside of my thigh, nuzzling it, and then she nips it and I cry out. I want to reach down and push her head so her mouth is right there, right on my cock, but I don’t.

  I’m giving her this.

  Letting her control this.

  When she runs her tongue along the underside of my cock, stopping just before she reaches the tip, I close my eyes and let my head drop. The long, tortured cry that escapes my throat isn’t a sound I’ve ever made.

  Oh, fuck, she’s using her teeth and my body is shaking in a way that I can’t stop.

  Soon her hands are moving up and down, up and down, and then a little higher to graze my cock head—that’s when I pump my hips, needing to be in her mouth, needing to fuck her mouth.

  I open my eyes and look down.

  Her body has gone still.

  And then, with small, quick flicks of her tongue, she slides it up my cock from my base to just below my head. Up a little higher to let the wet, hot abyss of her mouth hover over my tip.

  I look down another time.

  Again she has gone still.

  I lick my lips.

  Blink.

  Wait.

  Wait some more.

  Still, she does nothing.

  I can’t take it.

  And then I beg. “Please, Maggie, please.”

  At last she engulfs me, takes me down the back of her throat. Tastes me. Sucks me. Devours me.

  That’s it.

  Oh, fuck.

  That’s it.

  Greedy, she sucks me hard, concentrating on my head, while her hand, slick with her saliva, strokes up my shaft.

  Shards of pleasure spike in my every nerve.

  Unable to control myself, I slide my fingers into the back of her hair and anchor her there.

  When I give a little tug, she gasps.

  This makes her fuck me with her mouth faster, harder. She’s all mouth and teeth and tongue.

  Pleasure coils tight and hard, low in my belly and balls. I fuck her mouth harder, faster, and I groan, or maybe roar it’s so loud.