by J. C. Grant
He lifted his head, watching me, before capturing my lips in a supple kiss, his tongue thrust in, aggressive, deep licks that echoed in my clit. Then he leaned in, his stubble brushing my cheek as his lips met my ear. “Please,” he breathed, clutching me tighter.
My pussy throbbed at his tone, then clenched. Again. And again. Seeing him weak turned me on. Knowing I had that control over him had me on the verge of orgasm.
“Fuck yeah, squeeze my dick.” His voice was thick with arousal.
Unable to resist anymore, my body started moving, rocking, working my clit against him with each shift of my hips.
When his cockhead brushed over a spot—the spot—inside me, my hunger took over, drowning out any thoughts of hesitation. I didn't care who was watching. I didn't care if we got caught. I just wanted to come on his cock.
“Just like that,” he encouraged, his hands roaming my back and shoulders restlessly as my hips worked frantically.
He gripped the front of my dress, tugging it down enough to free a nipple. He wasted no time engulfing the peak in his hot, wet mouth, suckling. My core pulsed with each streaking jolt to my clit. It was only seconds before I was coming, gasping, shaking against him. Sharp pleasure coursed through me, vicious and hot.
“That's my girl,” he purred. “Now, do it again.”
At his harsh tone, my pussy clenched, flooding with the new heat and pressure. And I obeyed. Helpless to do anything else, my body started moving, chasing another orgasm.
“Fuck me, sweetheart. Fuck me just like that.” There was a dark edge to his voice,
“David,” I whimpered.
“You like that cock in that tight pussy? Like how I fill you up, stretch you open?” His voice was demanding and smug. Patronizing.
“Yes,” I panted, unsure how we had switched roles so suddenly.
“Good. Now, come all over it.” He thrust up, the ridge of his swollen head hitting my spot perfectly.
My body jolted as I felt the pressure building again.
“David,” I whispered in his ear. “Not here.”
“Yes, here, trust me.” The sincerity in his tone made me pause.
I did trust him.
When I didn’t protest, his hand moved to my stomach, drifting down to just above my pubic bone, applying pressure.
Oh fuck.
My body trembled as I resisted.
“Just relax, sweetheart,” he coaxed as his other hand soothed up and down my back.
Closing my eyes, I tried to do just that. I focused on his warm skin under my hands, his stubble against my cheek, his sweet exotic musk smell, his thick cock moving inside me.
His hand shifted, his thumb moving to my clit, his fingers still pressing.
“David,” I panted, mindlessly.
“Just let go,” he coaxed with voice, cock, and thumb.
Our bodies worked together, building a delicious pressure. I felt him shove something between us, but I was too far gone to care.
“Let go, sweet girl. Let go.”
He pushed harder, intensifying the pressure, and I relaxed, giving in.
“Ohhh, fuck, I love you,” I moaned as bone deep relief pounded through me, wracking my frame.
“Sweetheart, yes, yes. Oh, that’s so good.” He groaned. “That’s so good.”
At his words, a submissive cloud flooded my brain. My head tucked into the crook of his neck, as my body jerked and shook against him, little aftershocks shooting through me from his relentless cock and thumb.
“Oh, God,” I moaned as another small orgasm racking my frame.
“So good, love the way you come for me. Come all over me, marking me.”
Oh, God. I had marked him. Part of me loved it, while another part of me was horrified I did it in such a public place. But it felt so fucking good.
He let out a throaty laugh. “It always works.”
It took a second for my fuck-drunk brain to catch up. He’d just manipulated me into fucking in a much more public venue than last time. If he wanted to play that game...
“Humph,” I huffed. Then letting my lips brush his ear, I suggested, “Well, then why don’t you take me home. There’s something I want to try.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he growled.
David
I was a morning person. I loved getting the day started well before the rest of LA was even awake.
Most days.
Not so much on the days I didn’t get to sleep until four a.m.
Fuck... It was so worth it though.
My gaze trailed over her still sleeping form, taking in the rise and fall of her bare back, her dark hair spilling around her shoulders, her still swollen lips. She looked so fucking young. Too young for what she did last night.
Seemed Austin was becoming a bit of an exhibitionist. After last night, I was never telling her our windows had a treatment on them, preventing anyone from clearly seeing inside. Never letting her know there was zero chance anyone saw her tits smashed against the glass while I fucked her.
Careful not to wake her, I got out of bed and went to the closet, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and went to grab my gray Helmut Lang hoodie.
It wasn't where I left it.
Finally, I spotted it on a shelf on Austin's side of the closet, and when I slid it on I knew why. She'd worn it. It smelled like her; orchids, coconut and a warm musky scent. Pressing the cashmere to my nose, I inhaled.
Jesus, even that girl’s sweat smells good.
With how strong it was, she had to have either slept in it or worn it all day. That made me smile.
She wore it while I was gone.
Quietly, I exited the bedroom, Chance leading the way as we started our morning ritual: letting him outside, waiting to make sure he didn’t have any run-ins with local wildlife, then started breakfast.
I was so tired my muscles ached.
Last night had been a fucking nightmare—at first anyway. When I found her rings on the bathroom counter, I couldn't deny I had a sick, sinking feeling. And when I arrived at the club and found her dancing near the bar, surrounded by a dozen guys, I was pissed. But when I saw that guy grinding on her, then Tara’s fan touched her...
I knew my reaction to Zach had been normal. At least I thought it was—Austin was accepting of it, anyway. But I knew my reaction last night had been extreme.
I wanted to hurt them.
All of them.
Starting with Tara’s fan.
If Austin hadn’t stopped me, I would've. I knew I needed to get my aggression under control, but I didn’t know how. Austin had woken up some primitive instinct in me, an uncontrollable urge to eliminate anyone who could threaten my hold on her—worse, anyone who took her attention away from me. But the rage... That was something different. Something familiar. Something from my childhood.
Fortunately, my anger had been redirected when I saw Tara at the bar, entertaining a group of men. I knew then, Tara wanted a girls’ night out for trolling. And she had dragged Austin—her very married friend—with her.
The thing that bothered me the most... I didn't know if that was the norm for girls’ night. But I couldn’t imagine Austin trolling for men. Ever.
She doesn’t have to, they flock to her.
I'd been planning to create a lifestyle for Austin that made her too busy and/or too exhausted for girls’ night anymore. But I hadn't anticipated girls’ night being impromptu.
Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have been a problem, but after the drama and miscommunication over the past couple days I wasn’t ready to let her out of my sight. So instead of just having Fergus watch them, I'd called Liam to come out and keep Tara occupied while I talked Austin into fucking in a crowded club.
Again.
It showed how much she trusted me. How much she wanted me. It was reassuring. And it kept her focused on me. Fuck, it gave me life. Austin sinking down on my cock in public clearly communicated she didn’t give a shit about anyone else, just me. It was sick how much I neede
d that.
But Liam hadn’t been sitting at home twiddling his thumbs when I called.
David: Thanks man. I owe you.
7:45 AM
Liam: Still hanging. IOU.
FYI, I want to be you when I grow up.
You're a lucky fucker. Congrats.
7:51 AM
Hmmm...
That gave me an idea. Another way to end girls’ night—get Tara in a serious relationship with Liam. Between her schedule and trying to keep up with his...
I didn’t have anything against Tara, but in the short time I’d known her she’d brought Kelsey into our lives and had taken Austin out trolling. I’d feel better if she was busy with other things for a while. At least until I could get Austin knocked up—that would end girls’ night for at least a year or so.
No more party’s for Austin.
Oh fuck... the Halloween party.
David: Halloween costume for tomorrow.
7:59 AM
Aaron: You two matching? Send me a pic of
Austin’s.
8:00 AM
One of the benefits of having the same personal assistant for so many years, he knew me well.
After I made our coffees and plated up our omelets, I loaded everything on the breakfast tray and headed toward the bedroom.
“Sweet girl.” My unused voice was rough and hoarse—it felt like I'd gargled glass. “Time to get up. We have a long day today.”
When she opened her eyes, I saw the moment she thought she could get out of going. She pulled her shoulder up to her ear and gave me that pouty sleepy face.
“That's not gonna work today. You're going with me.” I had a full day planned of monopolizing her time and attention, and proving to her that she could do anything—as long as it was with me.
Abandoning her fake sweetness, her expression immediately shifted to annoyance as she sat up. A smile took over my face as silent laughter shook my chest.
I seriously love the fuck outta this girl.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Austin
The doorbell echoing through the house woke me. I knew who it was when David pulled on his discarded sweatpants from the night before, muttering, “Fucking little shit couldn't be quiet this morning?”
After David shut the door behind him and Chance, I knew I needed to get up.
Last night we’d arrived home shortly after seven and crashed. Shooting the entire cologne campaign for the season took forever.
Nine long, torturous hours.
But I understood why David made me go. He’d been making a point, proving to me he was serious about our new rule—going to each other’s shoots, and that near nudity was fine, as long as he was present. He’d proved the last point by making me pose nude in a few of the shots with him.
Keeping his word, despite his irrational jealousy... I had a whole new respect for him.
What pleased me most, was while he was naked half the time and the makeup girl couldn't stop staring at his dick, his sole focus had been on me and Chance, making sure we were comfortable and taken care of.
Repeatedly, he’d proved he was willing to put my needs before his own. But I had a feeling that only applied if he was present, because not only had he insisted on an all female staff, he’d still been possessive and overbearing.
And I fucking loved it.
When I finally made my way into the living room, wearing a hoodie and baggy sweatpants, I saw a preppy guy with sandy blond hair laying out David's costume options across the dining room table.
This must be Aaron.
I'd never met Aaron, or even talked to him for that matter, but he wasn't what I'd expected. He was my height, or slightly taller, and skinny. He could've easily passed for a high school student.
“Is this cool?” David asked, holding up a tank top.
It was the old-fashioned kind with the wide set straps. I loved the style and I knew it would look amazing on David's body, showcasing those defined traps and shoulders.
“Yeah... under something else,” I hedged. Then I added, "But totally keep it.”
His eyebrow lifted, and then he repeated, “Totally?”
“Like, totally.” I did my best Valley girl accent as I approached them. A huge smile broke across David's face as he silently laughed.
“Hey,” Aaron greeted. “It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Aaron.”
“I owe you a lot of thank-yous,” I said, taking his offered hand.
“I think I owe you a lot of apologies.” Aaron slyly pointed to David, then whispered, “On his behalf.”
“Fucking hysterical,” David grumbled as he went through the clothes.
Bracing my hands on the dining room table, I leaned in front of David, looking the wardrobe over.
It was all amazing.
“These are great. Where did you find them?” I asked Aaron as he moved in on the other side of David, looking at the garments.
“There's a place in Burbank that has nearly all the costumes from every major movie ever made. And if they don't have it, they can usually do a really close replica.”
I felt David's hand on my back, rubbing up and down. Warmth bloomed hot and fierce through me.
There was something in his touch, something that moved me deeply. Something that made me want to crawl up in his arms, wrap myself around him, and never let go.
“So which one do you like?” he rasped sweetly, his hand still rubbing over my back in long, slow sweeps.
“I like all of it. But for the party, the tan one,” I responded thoughtfully, leaning into his side, wrapping my arm around his waist, clinging to him.
“Do I have to wear the hat?” he grumbled quietly.
“No.” I couldn't help but smile at that. He was too cute.
“Cool. You ready to eat?” he checked.
“So much.”
David looked at Aaron then. “You eatin’ with us?”
“No, I'm good. I have to get going—if you don't need anything else.”
“No, we're good. Thanks, man.” David clapped Aaron softly on the back and pulled away before going into the kitchen and starting breakfast.
“Austin, I don't know if you have my number or not, but I have yours, and I'll text you. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask me,” he offered.
“You're too sweet, thank you.”
“You don't need to thank me. After eight years of this guy”—he pointed at David as he backed out of the dining room—"taking care of stuff for someone who’s not completely insane would be a welcomed change."
My eyes darted to David. He was in front of the coffee beast, starting our coffee.
"Yeah, you little fucker,” David called out as Aaron disappeared into the foyer, “talk that shit while you're running for the front door.”
It felt good knowing that David had a friendship comfortable enough for his type of banter, even if it was a paid friendship.
*****
“This is it, we’re here?” I asked when our driver pulled over to the curb on Mulholland Drive.
Elaine had made the arrangements for the driver and given him the address. She was being secretive about the whole thing. I wasn’t sure if that was because of David or something else.
“Yes, ma’am,” the driver answered, opening my door.
“Thank you.” I smiled at him as I climbed out, taking in the large house in front of me. I could hear David behind me, giving the driver a time frame to pick us up.
He really didn't want to go to the Halloween party. And apparently didn't want to stay.
The brick house was traditional. There was nothing impressive about it, except the size. I couldn't even see where it ended.
David walked past me, grabbing my hand, pulling me behind him and up the pumpkin-lined walkway to the door. As he rang the doorbell, I checked my costume over.
I'd settled on the World War II USO pin-up girl costume. It was tan with red piping and a blue star in the center of the bralette. The bolero had puff sl
eeves and a collar with a navy tie that just covered my cleavage. Earlier in the day, I had looked up WWII pinup girls, and my costume was remarkably similar.
Except the skirt.
It was lower cut and shorter. Really short. No matter how I stood, the bottom edge of my ass cheeks were visible.
Fortunately, I'd remembered to buy panties when we were at the store. Though David wasn't happy with them, they were the only pair that were not sheer, lace, or a G-string. When David had insisted I get rid of my B.D. (before David) wardrobe, that included my panties. At threat of physical harm, he’d spared my bras.
As I looked down at my Louboutin platform Mary Jane's, my gaze drifted over to David's boots. He looked amazing, as if he'd stepped right off the set of Pearl Harbor. He filled out his replica WWII Air Force uniform in the best way possible. The tie tucked inside his shirt and the woven belt completed the look.
“Hey,” David whispered, squeezing my hand. “You look amazing.”
Elaine had sent someone over to the house earlier to do my hair and makeup. She'd given me the classic look: loose pin curls, the cat-eye, and bright red lips.
I looked up at him and smiled. “Thanks, babe. You look pretty good yourself.”
The front door opened abruptly, and a tiny woman dressed in a cat costume stood there.
"What are you doing standing out here? Come on in!"
David hesitated, seeming as taken aback as I was by the small, loud woman.
“Thank you,” David said as he gestured for me to enter first.
I was bewildered as we entered the house, and not by the larger-than-life space, but because it was 90s. Not themed. The home hadn't been updated since the 90s.
And it was in pristine condition.
It was fun.
It was like walking into a time warp.
An Audrey Hepburn/Holly Golightly look-alike was in front of us then—tiara, oversized sunglasses, cigarette stick, the whole nine.
“Oh, perfect! I love this!” That was when I realized it was Elaine. “Look at you two, a 1940s sexy blast from the past.”