I didn’t really care. Frankly, I was more focused on getting his belt undone than anything else.
I pulled my skirt up to my waist. Wes couldn't decide whether to open or close his mouth, and his eyes were riveted to my exposed skin. I’d worn black thigh highs and a simple black lace thong under my pencil skirt.
“Look, we don’t have a lot of time, but I need you. Right here. Right now. So whip it out.”
My man eyed me like I was a chocolate donut sitting next to his cup of coffee. “Christ, I’m marrying the perfect fucking woman.”
Wes lifted up in a squat style move, unbuckled his belt, and exposed his hardening shaft. He stroked it until there was a pearl of liquid on the tip and it had grown to full size. I knelt on the bench and licked the crown, allowing that tasty pearl to coat my tongue before I swallowed him down.
“Fuck, yeah.” Before I could move into a better position, a searing blast hit my bare ass once, twice, three times. “Don’t you dare suck me off,” he growled and pulled me away by gripping a handful of my hair. The hair stylist was going to be so pissed.
Wes sat down on the bench, and I whimpered at the sight of his dick so hard and ready. He leaned back, both hands on the flat leather edges of the bench to support his weight. “Straddle me. Take me to the root. All the way to the very end.”
Happily, I straddled the bench, pushed aside my thong, centered his wet tip at the entrance to my sex, and slowly slid down. Inch by tantalizing inch, his thickness stretched and filled me. Once he was rooted deep, with my ass cheeks pressing against the soft skin of his balls and the scratchy zipper from his opened pants, I leaned back.
“I want to watch you take what you need, sweetheart. Now move.” His voice was a low, throaty rumble that sent another zing of lust running through my system.
Gripping his knees, I used my arms and the leverage of my feet on the floor to rock up and down his length. Seeing his slick cock disappear inside my body over and over acted like its own aphrodisiac. The more I watched, the wetter I got, and the harder I pushed on the down stroke. With each motion, Wes grunted, until I saw only him and his powerful shaft bringing me to ecstasy. Everything in my mind and body was focused one hundred percent on the slide of flesh on flesh. Filling myself with Wes was like nothing I could explain. Every down stroke was shear heaven. Every retreat and loss of his flesh utter hell. Pleasure tipped with pain.
“Look at that. So beautiful. Watching you take me inside, getting yourself off on my cock, makes me so hard. I can’t wait to shoot so far up inside you that you’ll have a permanent reminder of me for days.” His voice was rough, mimicking the grip his fingers had on my hips.
I moaned, the thought catapulting me into a frenzy of need and desire. Something inside me just lost it, and I started making animalistic noises like those from a hissing, angered cat.
“Oh, yeah, you’re right there. I can tell.” Wes bit down on his lip and looked down between my thighs. “Love that cherry-red button just begging for my touch. If I could be in two places at once, I’d be sucking that clit so hard you’d scream the house down.” He lifted his thumb to my mouth. “Lick it.”
I did as he ordered, sucking the salty digit into my mouth and swirling my tongue around it until I couldn’t help but bite down on the bit of flesh. He grinned. That smile was my undoing. I jackknifed up and slammed down, grinding against his pelvic bone as much as possible, mindless in my pursuit to get what I wanted. To soar as high as he could take me. Wes sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth. He was so damn deep. It felt like his cock was spearing into the heart of me. So good.
“You want me get you off? Make you scream?” His face was a mask of pure lust. Those gorgeous eyes that controlled half my thoughts were slits and mostly black. His mouth was slack, his bottom lip moist from endless drugging kisses.
I shook my head. I wanted to scream more than anything else in this world, but I didn’t want to do that while an entire room full of people could potentially hear us. As it was, everyone was already going to know what we were up to, and somehow, that thought made it even more powerful.
“All right, sweetheart. I know what you need.” He put his wet thumb directly over my clit, clamped his mouth over mine, and flicked my clit in a repeating pattern.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and squeezed the life out of him as a monster orgasm tore through me. I cried out, but his kiss muffled every sound, swallowing my orgasm down like it was his right, and it so was.
Just after I came, he pulled me off his wet cock, spun me around so that I was up on my knees, shoved my tiny speck of a thong down my legs, spread my ass cheeks, and plowed into my pussy from behind.
“Wes!” I cried out at the intense intrusion. Because I sat on the bench, knees so close together, it was a much tighter fit and he was well endowed.
Wes leaned over my back and whispered in my ear, “If you don’t want the entire world to know what’s going on in this room, I suggest you be quiet.”
“But I can’t,” I whimpered weakly and wiggled my ass so that he’d move inside me. I’d already come, but the new sensation and fit was too much to ignore. I needed him again. Always needed more.
He nipped at my neck and shoulder. “Okay, fine.” After a moment of rustling followed by a clanking noise, Wes handed me his belt folded in half. “Bite,” he said, as he held it in front of my mouth. The moment I clamped down, he pulled back and out all the way to the wide knobbed head where he stopped just inside of me. “Gonna take you hard now, Mia.”
When Wes said he was going to take me hard, he fucking meant it. I had enough time to clench my teeth tighter on the belt and to grip the padded bench before my entire body shifted forward at the power behind his thrusts. I grunted loud, but no cries slipped out. He rode me hard, all the while speaking endless filthy accolades about my body, the way I felt wrapped around him.
“Oh, yeah, that will do just fine.” He palmed my ass, smacked each cheek a few times until the space between my thighs was soaking wet and dripping down my legs. My bum was on fire from the sensual spanking, but it all just added to me losing my mind in the lust haze that Wes always put me in. With no further words spoken, Wes gripped my hip with one hand, my right shoulder with the other, and began to pound me into next week.
In the peripheral edges of my mind, a banging sound registered, but I didn’t care, and apparently, neither did Wes, though I think he mumbled something. I didn’t know. All I knew was my man was hard as a rock and his cock pummeled that spot inside that made me see stars.
I bit down on that hunk of leather as the pleasure splintered through every pore, fingertip, and out my toes. When he was close to exploding, he reached around, set two fingers over my clit, and rubbed me into oblivion. That’s all it took to send me into orbit once again. As I came, my body squeezed his cock for all it was worth, and he gripped both shoulders and held me. Rooted deep, he stirred his dick inside me, allowing my body to milk his cock of every drop as he let go, shooting his seed deep inside me. Fucking beautiful.
While I attempted to catch my breath, I found that my forehead was plastered against the red bench, Wes was hunched over me, and his hands were busy. This was something I looked forward to during our lovemaking. He loved bringing me back from the pleasure abyss with featherlight touches all over my body.
“Gotta admit, that was a damn fine idea, but someone came to the door for us twice. Then I heard Anton unlock it and peek inside before slamming it tight, saying it was break time for another twenty minutes.” He chuckled against my sweaty neck.
Shit, I wonder if I’m going to need to change my shirt. The thing was likely wrinkled and wet with sweat.
“You make me crazy,” I said, after I’d gotten my breathing under control. “Stop surprising me with sexy gestures and alpha jealousy tendencies that make me want to jump you. One of us needs to be the adult in the situation.” I frowned and pushed back, trying to get him to slip out of me, even though I was content just where I was, kne
eling on the bench, ass in the air, my man’s body draped over mine. Unfortunately, I did have a job to do and some crow to eat.
Wes chuckled, slipped out, and demanded I not move. Before I could figure out what he was doing, some sort of soft cloth was clearing away our combined releases from between my thighs. “Okay, you’re as clean as you’re gonna get.”
I rose, tugged up my flimsy panties, stepped over one side of the bench, and pushed my skirt back down. I could feel my hair was bouncy and ratted at the back where he’d gripped it a few times. My ass was scalding hot from the spanking, and the space between my thighs was downright tender, swollen, and sore when I moved my legs together.
“Shit. I’ve just been properly fucked, and I have to go film a segment. There are twenty people out there waiting. What the hell was I thinking?” I swiped at my hair, trying to flatten the rat's nest.
Wes grinned, put away his cock, and grabbed his belt. He traced the indentations from my teeth on the shiny leather side. “Hottest fucking thing ever. I’m totally wearing this all the time,” he announced.
I, on the other hand, was fuming. “You didn’t have to fuck me all crazy, here of all places. Jeez, Louise. I could lose my job.”
“Mia, you started it, and you’re not going to lose your job,” he said as he threaded the belt back through the loops. “You’re making them far too much money, and besides, you’ve got something all of those other segments don’t have.”
I placed my hands on my hips, cocked a hip, tilted my head, and busted out the daggers. “Which is what?”
“Me.” He smiled wide and with an ease that I adored. Since his return, those smiles were starting to appear more frequently, and with each new one I believed a bit more healing was taking place before my eyes.
“And how does that help?” I knew the answer already.
He scoffed. “Hello? Award-winning movie maker here. Remember, I’m editing your segments with you.”
I pretended to think about it for a few moments as if weighing whether or not he was helpful. Oh, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his skill was making me very popular in television and with the Dr. Hoffman show. So much so, that other television shows and production companies had been sniffing around. One even talked about offering me my own daytime show like an Oprah or an Ellen type of vibe—basically, everything I ever could want handed to me on a silver platter. Wes and I were considering our options together as a new family, debating what did and didn’t work in our day-to-day lifestyle. The answer still hadn’t come, but I had time. I was committed to Dr. Hoffman for at least the rest of this year and into the next.
“Hello, ego, I’m Mia.” I made a snotty retort to get his goat.
He shook his head. “Oh, you are so going to get it!”
“Promise?”
“Oh, yeah. When you least expect it, too.”
“Um, I think that already happened.”
He laughed, yanked me against his chest, and kissed me soundly. “That was incredible and worth every bit of hell we’re going to get.”
“You are not wrong.” I grinned.
“Come on. Let’s go smooth over the team. I’m thinking a round of beer and pizza after shooting.”
“That ought to do it!”
I was getting to know my crew, and they seemed like a bunch of sports loving, beer drinking, down to Earth folks who loved to eat pizza and shoot the shit with celebrities.
* * *
“Welcome Anton Santiago, everyone, better known to the world as the Latin Lov-ah. I got one of my big breaks in the entertainment world after starring in your video this year for a song that did very well, I understand.”
“Yes, it did. The ladies loved it, but the men lost their minds over you as the seductress.” Anton turned it around on me instead of taking the bait to talk about himself.
I felt the heat start in my chest and work its way up to my face. “Thank you. My fiancé sure enjoyed it.” I purposely winked at Wes so he’d know I was making an effort to go public, too.
Anton laughed.
“I know you’ve been asked this before and refused to answer, but why the Latin Lov-ah? I mean really, come on, Anton. We’re among friends. Give us some dirt!”
He looked at the camera, gave a perfect pout that would make the female demographic of my show want to lick their TV screens, and responded. “I love women. All women. Shapes and sizes don’t matter. Of course, I’m of Latin descent. You put the two together, and perfecto, Latin Lov-ah.”
Anton sat back as though he were king of his castle, and it suited him. He wore a white long sleeved T-shirt opened most of the way—to show off his ripped chest—with a pair of loose white linen pants and simple brown suede moccasins. A gold chain hung from his neck and glinted under the lights. The mocha complexion against his dark hair and green eyes would make a woman, any woman, want to drop to her knees and worship at his feet. Anton was all that and a bag of chips.
Funny, how he was startlingly handsome, yet all I could do was hope that one day he’d find true love.
“Now that you’ve got fame and fortune, what would you say you were thankful for this season?”
Anton tilted his head back and looked up. “Thankful for the roof over my head, the food in my belly, the friendship of my manager, Heather Renee, the love of mi mama, and my hermanos. Of course, all my amigos and fans of the music, but you know, this year, I want to thank you, Mia. For saving me from losing something very close to me. I am thankful to you and for your friendship.”
I couldn’t help the tears that filled my eyes. Of course, this would be the moment that the camera would get super close and invade my personal space. Not prepared for that, I looked at the camera as the tear trickled down. “And there you go. Anton Santiago, the Latin Lov-ah, my friend and yours. Thank you for coming today, Anton. It’s been great having you as part of this special segment on being thankful. I wish you many more successes in the music industry and in all your future endeavors.
“That’s a wrap on Anton everybody,” I said, smiling wide. One more taping to go, and Wes and I would be headed to Texas to spend Thanksgiving with my brother, his wife and kids, as well as my sister and her fiancé.
Chapter Six
“Now what are we doing all bundled up, freezing our asses off, walking through downtown Manhattan with a camera crew trolling behind us?” Wes swung our arms while we walked. The simple act of holding his hand and being with me reminded me that all was good. I had a ridiculous amount to be thankful for, and at the very tip top of that list was the man I was going to marry, Weston Channing.
The sights and sounds of New York were all around us. Snow trickled down in flurries, the flakes melting as soon as they touched the ground. Living in Vegas, we didn’t get much snow, and it never looked like this. A winter wonderland.
I shrugged noncommittally. “I’ve got an idea I want to try. Just trust me. It will be fun.”
Wes put his arm around me and tugged me to his side. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body through mine as we continued down the street to an unknown destination. “Sweetheart, you’re the only person I trust.”
With extreme effort, I pushed down the emotions that wanted to bubble up and out. Instead, I held strong and leaned toward him to enjoy our walk. The city was magnificent. Regardless of the weather, people milled about, bustling from door to door, in and out of bright yellow cabs faster than a person could raise a hand. Cabs appeared out of nowhere the second anyone stepped close to an open curb on the busy Manhattan street. A cornucopia of scents wafted through the air from different street vendors selling everything from hot dogs, to churros, to pizza.
Once we reached Rockefeller Center in the middle of downtown Manhattan, I stopped right in front of the ice-skating rink. “Here is perfect for now.” I smiled, and Wes just looked at me and shook his head.
The cameramen got their gear in order while I scoped out the area. Off to the side, I saw a man helping a little girl who was obviously his d
aughter tie her ice-skates. Casually, I walked over to them.
“Hello, excuse me, sir. I’m Mia Saunders, and I’m interviewing people for a segment of Dr. Hoffman about being thankful.”
The man stood and inserted himself in front of his daughter. The move was probably instinctive of a father protecting his child. “Yeah, so?” His voice was deep and leery as he sized me up.
I pointed over my shoulder to the camera guys and Wes standing off to the side in front of the ice rink. “Well, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind letting me interview you. It’s really just a question or two. I’m trying to capture Americans living their day-to-day lives and sharing that with the rest of the world. It would be quite a coup for your little girl later on in life to know she was on TV.” I smiled at the brown haired, brown-eyed little girl. She wore a red winter hat and her long brown hair tumbled out the sides. Her cheeks were chilled from the weather and perfect bubble gum pink.
The man who also had brown hair and brown eyes leaned down. “Would you like to be on TV, Anna?” He put his finger under the girls chin and tipped her head up to look at him.
“Sure, Daddy.”
I clapped my hands. “Great! If you wouldn’t mind stepping over to where we’ve set up the camera, that would be awesome!”
Since the little girl already had her ice skates on, her daddy lifted her easily into his arms. She couldn’t have been more than five or six, and he was a big guy.
“So Mister…”
“Pickering. Shaun Pickering.”
I made a mental note of their names so I wouldn’t mess it up on camera. I didn’t want to keep them too long, and more than anything, I wanted this segment to be real. If I messed up…well, life was full of little errors and even people on television weren’t perfect, as much as the public might think they were.
“Okay, guys, you ready to roll?”
The sound tech handed me a microphone and an earpiece. I suited up, pushed my long hair to each side of my head so that it framed me from the cold and according to Wes looked super cute with my hound’s-tooth cap. The cameraman commented that my green pea coat contrasted well with my black hair and green eyes.
Calendar Girl: November: Book 11 Page 6