Quickly, our bodies begin to move as one. We are no longer tepid or unfamiliar with what each of us desires. Through his pants, I feel the largeness of his hard cock and I can’t wait to see it again. I need to feel it in my bare hand. I need to taste it.
Aiden’s hand slides down my body, making its way under my shirt and underneath my pajama pants. His lips pull away from mine and make their way down to my belly button. When he kisses my hip bones, my hips move up and down involuntarily.
Aiden pulls off my pajama pants and panties and then helps me out of my shirt. He swiftly takes off his own pants and shirt and settles back on top of me. He licks my belly button and then runs his tongue along the top of my panties. With each kiss, my body rises and falls and I close my legs to stop myself from getting wet. But it’s too late for that.
Seeing my legs closing access, Aiden pushes them open and buries his face within them. My mouth immediately dries up, sucking all moisture within my body and concentrating it between my legs. I throw my head back in pleasure and run my hands over my rock hard nipples.
“I’ve missed you,” Aiden says, running his tongue around my clit in small concentric circles that make me want to scream. I bury my hands in his hair and pull until he moans.
I’ve missed him. I’ve wanted him for so long and now that he’s mine, I can’t keep my pleasure at bay. A few moments later, Aiden pulls away from me and I reach down to grab his cock.
“I want you,” he says, taking my nipple in between his teeth.
“I want you too,” I mumble.
Unable to keep my body from salivating further, I push him deep within me. I relish in the surprise look on his face for a moment, until the pleasure of him being within me overwhelms me completely. My legs get that all too familiar cramping feeling, before going numb and a warm sensation starts to fill my body from my core out to every extremity.
“I love you,” I whisper as my body gets closer and closer to that blissful release.
“I love you, too,” Aiden moans in my ear. He pushes himself in and out of me faster and faster until we both collapse into each other’s arms a few moments later. A simultaneous orgasm. I’ve never had one before and I close my eyes to keep the room from spinning around me.
* * *
***
We lay in each other’s arms in total bliss for close to an hour without really saying much. It’s nice to just be with someone without feeling the need to talk to fill dead air.
“I love you, Ellie,” Aiden says after a while.
“I love you too.”
“I just wanted to tell you that when I wasn’t inside of you.”
“Thanks? I guess. I don’t really know how to respond to that,” I laugh.
“No, what I mean is that I didn’t want you to think that I only said that because I was overwhelmed by pleasure. I mean, I was, but I love you for real, whether or not we’re having sex.”
I laugh.
“Okay, that came out quite awkward as well. You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve had a very emotional twenty-four hours.”
Wow, has it only been twenty-four hours? I wonder to myself.
“Okay, so, I’ve been thinking about something,” Aiden says. “I don’t know where you stand on the whole engagement thing anymore, and I don’t want to pressure you in any way. But I have another proposal for you.”
“Another proposal?”
“Yes. Now that I’m a properly unemployed bum—”
“With millions of dollars,” I interrupt jokingly.
“You’re right. Now that I’m a properly unemployed bum with millions of dollars, I was wondering if you would be interested in taking a trip with me. I’m thinking of taking my yacht and sailing it down to the Caribbean.”
I sit up and look at him.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “A couple of weeks. A couple of months. Forever?”
I inhale deeply and consider the proposition.
“C’mon, imagine all those turquoise waters, palm trees swaying in the gentle breeze, eight-five degree weather, swimming with manatees? How can you say no to that?”
I think about it for a moment. That does sound like an amazing experience.
“What about your work?” I ask.
“What work?”
“I don’t know. But weren’t you going to try to figure out what you were going to do next?”
“Yes. And what better place than on some white sandy beach holding a drink with a little straw hat?”
I nod. He has a good point there.
“And you can always write there as well. Or on the yacht. I have a number of rooms, which you can use as your office.”
“And this would be for an indefinite period of time?” I ask.
“For as long as or as little as you want.”
“So, what you’re basically asking me, Aiden Black, is whether or not I want to move in with you on your yacht?” I ask, jokingly.
“Yes, I guess I am. What do you say?”
Who doesn’t love the idea of sailing away to some exotic place, far away from all of their problems? I’m no exception. I take one last moment to try to think of a reason to say no, but nothing comes to me.
“Okay, why not?” I finally say.
Aiden throws his arms around me and pushes me back down on the bed.
“You have made me very happy Ellie Rhodes,” he whispers in my ear in between his kisses. “I just hope you give me the chance to do the same for you.”
You already have, I think to myself and kiss him back.
* * *
The End (for now)
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Indebted (Book 1)
When 25 yr. old waitress, Brielle, receives a mysterious check for $250,000, she uses the money to pay for her mother's very expensive cancer treatment, saving her life.
Two years later, she is called to pay back her debt. All she has to do is travel to an isolated mansion and work for one year as a personal assistant to an arrogant asshole whom she hates.
Wyatt Wild is a gorgeous alpha billionaire playboy who is not used to girls saying no to him. He has bedded models, actresses and socialites and then a waitress from some crappy roadside cafe dares to reject him. Who does she think she is?
Wyatt always gets what he wants and his desires focus on the innocent and stubborn Brielle. Neither give in easily and they quickly get locked in a game of seduction.
* * *
**WARNING: Steamy scenes, NO Cheating, HEA!
Chapter 1 - Wyatt
I wanted to fuck her the first time I saw her. She wasn’t my type. Not at all. A little plump with messy, brown hair and a sweaty forehead from taking too many orders and delivering food to strangers who left her fifty cent tips.
She was dressed in a plain white t-shirt and ratty jeans. The jeans dragged a bit on the floor and the holes were definitely not made by a manufacturer. No respectable girl I knew would ever wear something like that, and that made me want her even more.
Her jeans were tight at the waist, and she adjuste
d them periodically. Pulling them up over her hips while pulling down her shirt. She was trying to hide her figure, as if she was embarrassed by her gorgeous thighs, hips, and breasts. Contemporary society is all fucked up. This girl’s –this woman’s body, was what every man wants. Every straight man of every race, ethnicity, and creed. A tiny waist, shapely hips and legs, and breasts big enough to grab on to. Despite that, all the women’s magazines try to do is to convince them that they’re too fat because they’re not shaped like 12-year-old boys!
The name tag on her shirt said, ‘Brielle,’ which was a fancy French name to have for a girl who worked at a crappy roadside diner in the middle of the workday. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was her full-time job. I would be surprised if she worked here to get through school. There wasn’t a college for a hundred miles in any direction.
No, this Brielle was all wrong for me, and the worst part was that she didn’t have any money!
I don’t like girls without money. It’s not because I’m shallow. It’s because I’m practical. I don’t fuck girls without money, because it gets too complicated. It’s much more likely to make things more complicated. Girls without money feel taken advantage of. They want to see me more. They think that a one night stand is unreasonable, and if it goes past one or two nights then they want me to save them. Rescue them from their pathetic little lives. But I’m not a prince. I’m not a white knight either. I don’t have it in me, even though I do own a white horse that I love to ride.
I don’t like to rescue girls. I don’t like needy girls. No, the girls I fuck have to have their own careers – a starring role in a TV show, a signed contract with a prominent modeling agency, or at the very least, a reasonably-sized trust fund with one or two million from mommy and daddy. Oh hell, who are we kidding? It’s always from daddy.
I established these rules long ago, and I abide by them religiously. They are there to keep both of us safe. To make sure that we both have fun, but not too much. I don’t want the girls I fuck to have expectations about me. Expectations that I will never live up to.
And now, walking into this café and seeing Brielle, I’m ready to toss them out of the window. I want her. I want to put my throbbing cock in her wet pussy and pull her hair until she moans.
I get hard in anticipation as I watch her take an order from an old trucker at the next table.
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Brielle says, pushing his hand away from her ass.
I was too focused on her breasts that I hadn’t even noticed the trucker’s itchy hand reach out and grab her ass.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he says sarcastically and laughs to his friend.
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be,” she says, grabbing his uneaten plate of food.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I don’t know where you think you are, but this isn’t that kind of establishment. You can’t just go around touching women inappropriately here. And you’d better get the hell out.”
“But I didn’t finish eating,” the trucker stands up dumbfounded. He reaches out for his plate, but she moves it away from him.
“You’re done,” she says with the kind of determination in her voice that makes me ever more hard. “Please leave,” Brielle says. “And don’t come back.”
“I’d like to see your manager, you little cunt. You’re going to get fired.”
“I’m the manager here. Now, get the fuck out!”
I get out of the booth and stand next to her. I’m thankful for my loose fitting jeans.
“You heard her, sir,” I say. “The lady would like you to leave. So please leave.”
People at the next booths start to clap and cheer, and my friends join in. The trucker and his friend curse her out, but head towards the door.
“You’re a real cunt. You know that? You’re going to be sorry for this!”
I’m standing right next to her and, though, she’s trying to stay strong, I can see that she’s really shaken. Her chest is flushed, and the trucker’s plate is rattling slightly in her hand.
“That was really impressive,” I say.
She turns to me.
“I’m probably going to get fired over it.”
“I thought you were the manager?”
“No,” she shakes her head and starts to gather the plates and cutlery from the trucker’s booth. “The manager’s coming in later tonight. I’m just the waitress.”
“Well, I don’t see why you’d get fired. He had no right to grab your ass like that. He was a real asshole.”
“Thanks,” she smiles. Her smile lights up the room. “Can I get that in writing from you?”
“Yes, of course.”
I startle her. Catch her off-guard, in a good way. I like that.
“I’m just kidding,” she finally says. “Let me just get all this stuff to the kitchen, and I’ll come back and take your order.”
When I return to the booth, the guys laugh and slap me on the shoulders. They know she’s not my type, they know that I’m breaking my rules.
“I don’t know, Tyler. Looks like Wyatt’s in love,” Logan laughs.
“With a waitress!” Tyler chimes in.
“What happened to only dating girls with jobs or rich girls? Preferably both?” Ryan asks.
“She’s got a job,” I say. “We’re at her job.”
“Oh, please. A waitress? That’s not a real job. You’re breaking your rules, and you know it,” Logan jokes.
It’s all in good fun, but right now I hate their teasing. They’re right of course, and still I want her.
“Nothing’s happening. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say as assertively as possible.
“We see the way you’re looking at her,” Ryan says. “We’re not blind.”
“I was just impressed with what she did. Brielle’s got spunk.”
“Oh, Brielle, is it? You two are on a first name basis already?” Tyler chuckles. Dammit. I shouldn’t have let that slip.
“It’s on her fuckin’ name tag, idiot,” I try to save myself. But they’re not buying it.
Brielle comes back to our table to take our order. After writing down everyone else’s orders, she looks up at me from her notepad. My cock gets hard again, and I push it back down, under the table.
“You know, you made quite an impression on our friend, Wyatt, here,” Logan suddenly says.
“Is that so?”
“I really liked how you handled that trucker,” I say. I feel like I’m on my back foot. I don’t like coming on to girls in this manner. I glare at Logan, but he doesn’t stop.
“Wyatt was just telling us that you’re not at all like the girls we’re used to,” Logan continues.
“Well, working for a living would do that to you,” she says with a smile. I hate how she mocks me for having money. I want her even more now. I want to push her down on the bed, and I want her to let me tie her hands to the bedpost. I want to tease her until she screams my name.
“So what would you like? Wyatt, is it?” she turns to me.
I had picked out something on the menu, but now I couldn’t remember what it was.
“What would you recommend, Brielle?” I say reading her name tag. Her name is burned on my cock, but I can’t let her know that. Not yet.
“Our spinach omelet with feta cheese is quite good.”
“Okay, I’ll take that.”
* * *
The café clears out a bit. While my friends continue to pick at their food, I excuse myself and head towards the bathroom. Before I get there, I pop into the back and find Brielle sitting on a crate reading a book. She quickly puts it away, but not before I catch the title. Jane Eyre. My sister’s favorite.
“Can I help you with something?”
“No, not really.”
She stares at me. I know I need a reason for being here.
“Yes, actually. I was just wondering if I can take you out for a drink sometime.”
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I catch her off-guard. Her face lights up, and a brief smile crosses her face.
“That’s probably not a good idea,” she says with a forlorn sigh.
“Why’s that?”
“Well, for one thing, you don’t even live here.”
“How do you know?” I ask.
She furrows her brows and folds her arms across her chest, pressing her breasts together in front of me. They look as if they are on a platter, and it requires all the strength within me not to reach out and touch them.
“People who drive Bentleys don’t live around here.”
She’s right, of course.
“And the other thing?”
She takes a deep breath.
“I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“Who said anything about a relationship?” I ask and immediately regret my choice of words.
“And I’m definitely not looking for anything casual.”
“Why’s that?” I ask.
I should just drop it, but I can’t. No one, and I mean no one, has ever turned me down. I can’t even believe that this is really happening. Maybe she’s just toying with me. Maybe she’s just flirting.
“Because I’m not into one night stands, Wyatt,” she says and walks away. I love the sound of my name in her mouth. I want to put more of me there.
* * *
Brielle avoids eye contact with me the rest of the time that we are there. That makes me want her even more. She iss feisty and hot, and she doesn’t take shit from anyone. An unusual girl. I wanted her so much then, I thought I was going to explode.
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