Mr. Mysterious: A Mister Standalone (The Mister Series Book 4)

by JA Huss

  This time he does laugh. Loudly. “Are you?”

  “Yes,” I say. “So I might not want to do anything too fun today, Detective. I’m saving myself for Prince Charming.”

  The light turns green but Paxton watches me as my fingertips caress the wet folds between my legs until the car behind us honks.

  He starts forward and then turns left, towards the marina. “Are you going to tease me, Miss Cookie?”

  “Oh,” I say, moaning a little. “I love teasing men. It’s how I got into this situation in the first place.”

  “You pretended to be a whore? But when they found out you were a virgin, they—”

  “Threatened my life,” I pretend-sob. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”

  “Tell me what kind of help you need, Miss Cookie.”

  “I just can’t stop”—I pretend-sob again—“teasing. Help me stop. Please.”

  He chuckles in a sexy you-have-no-idea-how-much-I-love-this-game kind of way. “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”

  “Jesus fuck, are we there yet, Pax? I really do need you to lick my pussy.”

  But all I get in response is a sly smile.

  Oh, shit. I have a feeling he’s going to take my little fantasy farther than I expected.

  Chapter Twenty - Paxton

  I hold her hand as we walk through the marina towards the slip where I keep my boat. The place is busy. Crowded and bustling until we get away from the club house and onto the dock.

  “This is nice. I love the water. One thing that I never got much of growing up.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “It’s perfect right now.” I look down at her and smile. “Better than letting you tease me while I sit in traffic ready to murder someone.”

  She laughs a little as I put my hand on the small of her back, directing her to go right. “You know,” she says, “just when I think I’ve got you figured out, you pull something like this on me.”

  “Like what?”

  “A boat. Islands. Houses. All of it.”

  “Well, you can’t have an island without a boat.”

  “It’s on the wrong coast, though. You said your islands were in the Exuma Cays.”

  “Oh.” I laugh. “I have a boat on that coast too. Besides, if you have two islands you really need two boats.”

  “Is that your rationale?”

  “My story,” I say. “And I’m sticking to it. But that brings us back to your story, Miss Cookie. After you.”

  I stop beside my boat and hold her hand as she steps up, then follow her on board. Her eyes are wide and excited. But pretty soon they’ll be heavy with lust. “I can help you with your little problem, but since you can’t pay, I’ll need something else from you.”

  She bites away the smile as I start to untie the boat. “Wait, we’re going somewhere?”

  “You want this whole marina to hear you scream, ‘Fuck me, Detective. Fuck me harder?’ OK by me, Sugar.”

  “Pax…”

  “Of course we’re going somewhere. What’d you think? I was bringing you here for a quickie? I don’t do quickies. Not with girls I like.”

  A blush flushes her whole face pink for a moment. I bet her breasts are blushing too. “Detective,” she says in a low voice. “This is all highly unorthodox.”

  “I solve the cases, Miss Cookie. Whether or not you like my methods is none of my concern. Now, for your own safety, I’m gonna need you to go down below, take off your clothes, and wait for me on the couch.”

  “For my own safety?” she asks.

  “It’s either that or take your chances with me ripping them off you.”

  Her mouth opens in an O of surprise, her hand covering it in a moment of shock. “Detective, that’s inappropriate.”

  I finish untying the mooring of the boat and step in, making sure my hands rest on both of her hips as I gently move her aside. “And I’ll tell you now, if you want my help, you have to follow my directions at all time.”

  “All times?” She tilts her head at me, eyebrow raised.

  “All times. I’ll give you till the count of five to get down below, or I’ll rip your clothes off right here in front of the whole marina.”

  She puts a hand over one breast, simultaneously covering herself and indicating shock in one perfect gesture.

  “One…”

  She turns towards the stairs that lead to the salon, but I catch her muttering, “She was conflicted and yet her body was becoming warm with the anticipation of what was to come.”

  Can this girl get any cuter?

  I smile big as I start the boat and back out of the slip, then make my way out of the marina towards the ocean at a painstakingly slow speed. All I think about is how she’s waiting for me down below. Her naked body stretched out on the leather couch. Long blonde locks trailing over her breasts, trying to hide them. But there’s not enough hair on her head to hide those voluptuous tits of hers. I love fucking her with her bra on. I love pulling it down under her huge mounds so the underwire practically raises them up to her chin.

  God, I want to do filthy, filthy things with her mouth and her tits. Make her suck on them. Her little pink tongue darting out as it traces the line of her nipples.

  When we finally get to open water, I set a heading and put it on autopilot. This boat is not as big as the yacht I have in West Palm Beach, but it’s got everything I need for an afternoon of fantasy roleplaying with Miss Sugar Cookie down there.

  I unbutton my shirt as I step down the stairs to the salon and the minute I see her—that golden body naked and waiting—blood fills up my cock until it’s so hard, I have to resist the urge to grab it.

  “I like to comply, Detective,” Cindy purrs. “It’s one of my favorite things.”

  Jesus. She looks like a fucking pin-up girl lying there. She’s on her side, legs scissoring together like she’s trying to stimulate herself. The little blonde landing strip of hair between her legs peeks out at me like an invitation. Her arms are strategically placed, squeezing her tits together to make them look even more perfect.

  I finally get the buttons done on my shirt, take it off and throw it across the table as I pass, and then go to work on my pants.

  “What will you make me do?” she asks, fake hint of fear in her voice.

  “Anything I want,” I say, pulling my cock out and fisting it, my hand moving up and down my thick shaft in slow strokes. “And what I want right now, Miss Cookie, is to make you suffer for teasing me back in the car. You’re lucky I don’t walk out of this case. Leave you to fend for yourself.”

  I hate to bite back the smile. Because my little sugar here can fend for herself just fine. But I like her damsel-in-distress playacting. It fucking turns me on.

  “Suffer?” she asks in an overly dramatic protest. “But I didn’t do anything you didn’t want.”

  “It’s too late now. You’re here, we’re heading west to nowhere in particular, and you’ve got my undivided attention.”

  “Please,” she begs. “Please, don’t walk out—”

  “I won’t, you little tease. But I’m going to teach you a lesson right now. A lesson you’ll never want to forget.” I reach her, pull her up to a sitting position, and then sit down on the couch.

  “What should I do to make it better?” She places her hand over mine, which is still stroking my cock. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want…” Goddamn. I want to fuck her is what I want. But this is way too much fun to rush things. “Get up,” I say.

  She stands up, bites her lip seductively, and stands there as I lie down on the couch where she just was.

  “Now sit on top of me.”

  She straddles my thighs, positioning her pussy right over my cock, but I place a hand on her arm and say, “No, no, no. You wish my cock was going inside you, Miss Cookie.”

  “But Detective, I thought you—”

  “You can stop thinking now. It’s unnecessary. Scoot up and lean back.”

  Cindy scrunches her brows together, confused.<
br />
  “You want to be a tease? Let’s see who’s the better tease.”

  “What are you doing?” she asks in her real voice.

  “Let’s play a game…” I say the words before I realize how she might take them. But she stops my worry with a smile. “Let’s see who can hold out the longest.”

  “Oh, honey,” she purrs. “I’m gonna win this game. What’s my prize at the end?”

  “You think so, huh? I’ll tell you what. If you win, I’ll sign that Malibu house over to you.”

  “What?” She’s genuinely shocked. “Paxton, that’s insane. Why?” She stutters for words. “What are you doing?”

  “Why is it insane? I just want to make sure you’re not sleeping in a trailer if you ever get tired of me.”

  “I don’t need your house. And it’s worth fourteen million dollars, that’s why!”

  “That was purchase price, Sugar. It’s worth twenty-one million at the moment. And I know you don’t need it now. You already live there with me. But it’s a nice place, right? People get addicted to nice things and then sometimes they stay in situations just to keep those things. I want to make sure that never happens to us.”

  “I’m not taking your house, don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Afraid you’re gonna lose, Miss Cookie?”

  “I’m not going to lose.” She snorts. “In fact, I bet I win this little game in less than ten minutes.”

  “Well, if I win,” I say, my voice a deep mixture of desire and arrogance, “then I want to meet your dad.”

  “What?” If I didn’t know we were playing a game, I’d be convinced that shocked look is real. “Why?” She almost whispers it.

  “You met my mother. I want to meet yours. And I have a feeling that Vic Vaughn doesn’t let anyone meet his wife unless he gives them permission. Besides, that’s what you do when you’re serious, right? Meet the parents. Get permission. That’s how my mother raised me, Cinderella. I can’t help that I’m a traditional kind of guy.”

  “Pax—”

  “Too chickenshit to play, Miss Sugar Cookie?”

  “No,” she protests. “No, that’s not it. I’m just not sure—” She stops short.

  But I know what she’s going to say. I’m just not sure we’re that serious yet. We are that serious. And even if she doesn’t think so right now, she will realize it soon. “I want a meeting with your dad. And look, I know I’m a little rough around the edges, but I clean up well. I have manners, Cindy. I won’t embarrass you.”

  She bites her lip. And damn, if she isn’t the best little actress. I almost think she’s really worried about this.

  “Game on?” I ask, once again wincing at my choice of terminology.

  She lets out a long sigh. “I won’t lose. So in ten minutes I’m going to own your house.”

  “That’s the spirit, Sugar. Winning is ninety-nine percent attitude. Are you ready?”

  “Game on.”

  “Well, OK then. I want you to press your pussy up against my shaft and rub against it.”

  She tilts her head with a sly grin.

  “All the way against it. I want you to slide up and down my shaft, so my tip tickles your clit, and move your hips until it touches your ass.”

  She exhales. “Shit.”

  “No, Sugar. Squirt. I’ll make you come squirting and I won’t even have to touch you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One - Cindy

  Focus, Cinderella.

  I do not need that house, nor do I want it. But what if Pax wins and insists I call home when we’re done to set up a time to meet my dad? He cannot meet my dad! He’s already met my dad!

  And I know damn well my uncle Vic will not play along with this. No fucking way. He’d take one look at Paxton, recognize him as Mr. Mysterious, and be on the phone to my father that same instant.

  They’d probably kick his ass!

  Well. They’d definitely try. But I have a lot of uncles. They’d all get in on it. Hell, Oliver would too. They would definitely kick his ass.

  “Cindy,” Pax says, breaking the roleplay. “You’re just sitting there.”

  “Detective,” I say, trying to give myself time to figure out how to get out of this game. “I really don’t think—”

  “You’re gonna win?” He tsks his tongue. “I know you’re not going to win, Sugar. But we’re already playing. You want to be a tease? I can tease back. Now do what I say.”

  “Detective,” I repeat, using my sweet acting voice. “It’s just not fair that you get to tease me first.”

  “We’re teasing each other,” he says. “All you gotta do is make me come before you and you win. The more seductive you are, the more excited I get.”

  The whole problem with that is he knows how I am when his dick is playing with my clit. And he knows I can make myself squirt while I masturbate. So this is basically me masturbating with his dick.

  “I’m so gonna win,” I say.

  But all I’m thinking is, I’m so gonna lose.

  “Here,” Pax says. “I’ll help you get started.”

  “You’re so considerate,” I purr, slapping his hand away. “But you said—” Ah ha! I have a path to victory! “You said you’ll make me come squirting and you won’t even have to touch me.”

  “So that’s the rule?”

  I smile, smug. “That’s the rule.”

  “Sugar, I’ve already won.”

  I let him think that as I move into position, cupping my breasts together the way I know he loves. He’s got a lot of kinky ideas about my tits. I can tell by the way he fondles them while we fuck. He pushes them up towards my face, like he’s hoping against hope my little tongue will just dart out and—

  Shit, Cindy, stop turning yourself on. You’re trying to win here.

  But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Everything I can do to make him come also turns me on.

  “Getting worried?” Pax asks, smirking up at me.

  “Not at all.” I take his hard dick in my hands and press it up to the wet lips of my pussy. He closes his eyes, just a flicker, really, and I know I’m the one with all the power here. He won’t last. He won’t.

  I move my hips up and down, just a tiny bit. Sliding my juices all over his shaft.

  “Fuck, yeah,” he says.

  Fuck, yeah, I think.

  But I keep going. Pressing him against my folds, desperately trying to stimulate him without hitting my sweet spot.

  “You’re cheating,” he says, pushing on his cock so that the head is right where I don’t need it to be. “You have to hit the button, Sugar. That’s the rules.”

  I move my hips, angling them so his tip just barely hits my clit, biting my lip so I don’t get too turned on.

  “Fuck,” Pax says. “You have the prettiest pussy. So pink, and wet, and your lips fold around my dick like they want to eat it up.”

  Oh, God. I actually get wetter, if that’s possible. He’s gonna dirty-talk me right into losing this game.

  Don’t be stupid, Cindy. You have a mouth too. Use it!

  “You know what I love?” I purr.

  “Hmmm?” Pax asks, still concentrating on how my pussy looks hugging his cock.

  “The way you look at my tits.” I fist one, my other hand holding his cock tightly to my pussy so he gets the full effect of my movements. “And you know what I’ve figured out?”

  “Hmmm?” he says again. “That you want me to touch you after all?”

  I almost laugh. This might be easier than I thought. He’s already wishing he could touch me.

  “Because,” he continues, “all I’m thinking about is how I’d like to grab your hips and drag your clit up and down my cock until you’re whining about the agony of defeat.”

  He’s good. I’ll give him that. He’s damn good.

  “No,” I say, bending forward and leaning down so my thighs straddle him and my tits press against his chest.

  “If you stop moving, Sugar, I win by default.”

  “No,” I say again
, rubbing myself against him. That little lip of skin over the tip of his head bumps up against my clit and I exhale. Loudly. “I’ve figured out what you want me to do.” And then I cup my breast, bring it up to my mouth, and trace my nipple with my tongue.

  I feel his dick jump as his eyes go wide.

  “Fuck,” he says.

  “Oh, yeah,” I moan. “Do you like it?” I lick again. “You know how this feels when I do this to your cock?” I ask. “Well,” I say, leaning all the way down into his neck so I can breathe the words into his ear. “That’s how it feels for me right now too.”

  “Bitch,” he says.

  “Why play the game if you never want to win? I’m going to win this one, Mr. Mysterious.”

  “You stopped moving. Do that again and you forfeit.”

  Asshole. I move again, but damn, if the head of his dick isn’t still right there. Ready to push my button.

  I wince, then stop to calm down, but start back up again before he declares himself the winner.

  “You’re getting weaker,” he says, maneuvering his legs so there’s even more pressure and friction. Bending his knees and bracing his feet on the bed. “I might not be able to touch you, but—” He thrust his hips—hard—so his balls slap against my ass.

  “Cheater!” I squeal. But holy fuck, that feels… so… good. I move faster, his shaft still sliding between the lips of my pussy.

  Pax closes his eyes, so I keep going. “You like that?” I ask. “You like the way my pussy feels. All wet and warm and ready for your cock. Don’t you just want to be inside me? Feel me squeeze you?”

  “Keep going,” he mumbles. “Keep talking.”

  God, it would be so easy to come right now. I bite my lip, trying not to let my own dirty talk be my downfall. How to win the game when losing means you get exactly what you want?

  “I want to feel the slap of your balls again. I want your hard dick inside me. I want you in my mouth and I want your tongue in my pussy—”

  “Do it,” he says. “Turn around and do it.”

  Oh, man. I’m so gonna lose if I let his tongue touch me down there. But if I suck him off, there’s a chance I can win. “I’m gonna take you deep in my throat, Detective. I’m gonna swallow your cock and make you choke me with your come.”