Corey had glanced at her when she’d walked in, then looked away before he inadvertently revealed what he was thinking. He’d known right away that she wasn’t going to be just another customer, just another girl. The way his whole body heated up with that simple glance told him all he needed to know about her and her pretty little mouth.
It wasn’t just that Corey wanted her to suck his cock, though that was true as well, but, damn, she looked like the type of girl who loved it . . . and needed it tonight. He hadn’t meant to be so forward, but once he’d said “blowjob,” it felt right.
Kate licked a mouthful of sweet cream off the top, deliberately keeping it in her mouth as she raised her head to look up at him, then slowly, she swallowed. Their eyes met, his gaze slicing into her. Her pulse raced.
Kate ran her delicate tongue over her red lips. She tasted sugar and lipstick and, somehow, him, this anonymous bartender who already had her melting.
Corey waited, silent, to see how she’d react.
Kate knew he was right, about her looking like she could use a blowjob, but she wanted to show Mr. Hotshot Bartender that she was the one with the power, that she could drink his blowjob, or suck his cock, and still proudly march out of there. Instead of taking the tiny tumbler and knocking it back, she lifted it to her lips and coolly sipped it, drawing out every last sweet drop, finishing with a loud, smacking, “Aaaah.” She put the shot glass down and shoved it across the bar, right into his stomach.
His fingers clasped around her wrist. She wished she could burp, to finish off the effect she was going for, but the pressure of his touch against her skin had her mouth opening into a perfect O, an opening that a dick, with just a little nudging, might slide into perfectly.
Corey’s cock, which had been half-hard, stiffened fully as he held her wrist. He saw plenty of women stumble in here, hoping to drown their sorrows, their eyes looking up at him pleadingly, seeking some relief. They wanted to surrender to him, to let him take over, to give up any shred of responsibility. And, waking up in the morning with sore nipples and no panties, they wanted to be able to blame it all on his evil beverages. He went along with it, because that was his job, but he wasn’t proud of the women he’d let seduce him, as he knew full well their pussies were swollen with whiskey or vodka, not desire.
But this chick had something different—a flash in her eyes, a hint about her mouth that had nothing to do with the color it was painted. She didn’t just look like she’d give a good blowjob but like she wanted to, like she was the kind of woman who, at the very sight of a cock, loved to open up to make room for it. The kind of girl who’d be wiping tears from her cheeks when she pulled her mouth off his dick, only for him to find her pussy a puddle of slickness when he touched it.
She started to tremble, as if she’d read his thoughts. He kept his eyes on her even as he released her, reluctant to let go. He had to remind himself that he was working, and he couldn’t simply whisk her behind the bar and shove her down onto her knees, grappling with her long, silken hair as he guided her sweet mouth to his crotch. He reached forward and traced a finger over those wet, soft lips, then pinched the bottom one between his thumb and forefinger. She moaned, and he pinched harder.
He pressed two fingers into her mouth, and even though she was far from drunk, she took them in. She ran her tongue along the underside of those strong yet soft fingers, curling it so just the tip tickled his skin. She sucked hard, her cheeks hollowing as she drew his digits deeper, feeling a welcoming ache in her cunt. She opened her eyes, knowing they had to be swimming.
Corey saw a sadness in her lurking just beyond the lust, saw that there was more to her mouth than met the eye. He saw a lot in the few seconds he stood staring deep into her gaze, until a pounding on the other side of the bar caught his attention. He reluctantly parted, pouring a lager and then a lemon drop shot, drinks that were so routine they no longer held any interest for him. He smiled for a moment, remembering how excited he was his first month on the job, when even pouring a pop was a thrill. He enjoyed the new faces, getting to know his customers in all their colorful glory, their stories and smiles blurring together into one big-city mass.
But he’d long become resigned to the fact that this was a job like any other, with later hours, fewer boundaries, and more fights.
This woman, however, with the long hair and sad eyes and wet mouth, stirred something inside him, not just his dick.
He made her another drink, then walked it over. “Open up,” he said, placing it on the bar as he gently grasped the back of her neck. They both shivered when he made contact, pinching her delicate skin before wrapping his fingers through what felt like miles of silky tresses. He leaned forward, arching over the shot glass to whisper, “Suck my cock.”
She moaned, and the sound made his dick throb.
Kate knew she could never come to this bar again after tonight. Surely everyone was watching her, knowing that whatever he’d just said was far from polite. They had to know that she’d soaked the crotch of her jeans, that she was trembling, that she’d never been this aroused before, in public or private. He guided her head forward, and she wrapped her lips around the glass. She lifted her head, his fingers slipped away from her, and she tossed back the shot, feeling its sweet heat blaze through her insides. She barely had a chance to taste it on her tongue before it was gone, plummeting deep inside. She hoped it was going directly to her cunt, anatomy lessons be damned.
Corey wanted to take her hand and press it against his fly. The bar, and the people, and the circumstances, were in the way. He knew she wasn’t ready for it just yet, but she would be.
Kate got on her knees on the stool and peered over the bar.
He glanced around, and while their little spectacle had gotten a few looks, he knew that in this crowd they could get away with a lot more than it seemed. Grateful that he’d gone commando tonight, he popped the snaps of his jeans and unveiled the head of his cock. She moaned again, clutching the counter, memorizing the vision of it, so near and yet so far.
He pulled her close for a kiss, ten seconds of pleasure, her tongue hot and sweet against his. Then he pushed her away, pressing her against the stool. He kept his hand on the back of her neck and whispered into her ear.
“Go home,” he said. “Go home, take off those sexy jeans. Lie down in bed. Think about me getting on top of you, holding down your arms, and sliding my cock inside your mouth.”
She shuddered under his fingers.
“Not the whole thing at once, even though I bet you’d like that, you little slut. No, just the tip, just the part you’ve seen. I’m shoving it against your lips, and you’re opening to swallow it, trying to suck me deeper inside. I let go of your wrists and hold my cock and feed you a little more. You’re so wet you can barely stand it, but you’re going to have to wait. You grasp the bars of the headboard above you and try not to cry out and wake the neighbors.”
His fingers tightened in her hair, a quick look around telling him the other customers were momentarily satisfied with their drinks. He had more time to indulge.
“You’re a good girl, even though you’re the naughtiest girl I’ve ever met, so you wait for me, you wait until I’m good and ready to slide my entire shaft down your throat. I know you can take it, I know you want it, and finally you get it.”
Kate’s eyes closed; she felt lost in his voice. He gently bit the lobe of her ear, and she squeezed her thighs together, responding to the terrible, delicious need.
“I fuck your mouth slowly and smoothly until you’re slobbering all over me. Your forehead is sweaty, and you look up at me through the tears in your eyes. I’m getting close, stroking that pretty mouth of yours, and I ask you where you want me to come.”
Kate moaned in spite of herself, and Corey smiled, continuing.
“Down your throat? On your lips? On those pretty little tits? You just groan and suck me extra hard, and I know that means you want to taste my cream. You want your very own special blowjob sho
t.”
Kate bit her lower lip imagining this.
“I really ram into you, good and hard. Even though I want to go on for hours, all of a sudden, your hot mouth has me coming. I’m pumping it into you, and you swallow, swallow, swallow. I slow, and you moan as I let the last few drops slide down your throat.
“I ease my cock out of you, and you’re panting, your eyes fluttering. I move my fingers down to your pussy, and they’re almost sucked inside. You’re so wet, it’s stunning. I press three of my fingers into you, and you’re screaming for real this time, your lips still stretched, the taste of my cum in the back of your throat. I slam in and out of you, stroking your sweet spot, and you come again and again until you’re begging me to stop. But I don’t, not yet, because I know you need to come just a little more. It’s only when I know you’re absolutely spent that I pull my soaking fingers out and let you lap your juices off of them.”
Kate’s breath was ragged, and when he pulled his lips from her ear, she looked like she had come again and again. She looked limp, almost weak, but he could practically feel her heart pounding. She looked like she couldn’t get up from the stool. She looked like the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
Kate looked into Corey’s eyes. Her pussy was beyond wet, beyond aroused, beyond anything and everything. Her jeans were so tight against her cunt they almost hurt. All they’d done was kiss, right? So why did it feel like he’d just fucked her and crammed his entire body into her mouth? Why was she sticking to her seat, her cheeks aflame as she looked down at the tiny ring of moisture left by her glass on the battered wood? He didn’t even know her name! But she realized he didn’t need to; he’d taken her, right there, over the bar, just as sure as if he’d touched her naked body.
She finally smiled at him, shaken, stirred, and smitten. “Blow me,” she said, tapping her fingers against the bar, asking not for a drink, but for a dream. He winked at her and then moved away. She waited there, watching him work, his cock swimming in front of her mind’s eye, so real she could already taste it.
FOR HIS PLEASURE
Sienna Conroy
“My flight lands at six thirty; don’t worry about picking me up. Thomas has his car, so he’ll drop me off on his way home.”
“Okay, Jared. I can’t wait to see you.”
There was a pause on his end.
“Do you mean that, Jillian?” he asked, not realizing his breath had been suspended. The question was loaded with innuendo and, perhaps, hope.
“I miss you,” Jillian whispered into the phone.
Something in her voice caused Jared’s heart to beat awkwardly in his chest. He yearned to hold his wife against him. The Seattle trip had been taxing, at best, but Brooks and Reynolds Consulting had landed a major contract with the city, and plans needed to be ironed out.
“I’ll see you soon, Jillian.”
“I’ll fix a steak for you.”
“That would be wonderful, sweetheart.”
“Goodbye.”
Before he could reply, Jillian hung up. He stared at his BlackBerry a moment and then brought up a picture he had taken of her during their honeymoon in Tuscany.
The sun was setting when he took the shot, casting her in its dusky light. She had a pensive, serene look on her face that was completely beguiling. It was his favorite picture of her; he found it alluring and tempting, as most things were with Jillian, even after all that had happened.
There was a knock at the door. Thomas walked in carrying the model of the building they had designed for the city of Seattle. “Have you had any breakfast yet? I’m starving.”
“Not yet. I just got off the phone with Jillian,” Jared replied as he pocketed the BlackBerry.
Thomas noticed the crease in his friend’s brow and asked, “Is she all right? You look worried.”
Jared looked at the man he had known a lifetime, shaking his head. “To say she’s fine would be a stretch, Thomas, but I can hope, can’t I? We’re taking it one day at a time, and each day is better than the last.”
Thomas patted Jared on the shoulder. “You’re strong for her, and that’s a great thing.”
Jared’s smile was wan, laced with melancholy. “She’s strong for herself, Thomas. I just wish she could find it within herself to rise above the tide that’s threatening to drown her.”
“With you by her side, Jared, she will.”
PACIFIC TIME WAS three hours behind, Jillian reminded herself. Jared called at nine his time, so that meant she had roughly seven hours to get everything ready. Her husband had been in Seattle for a week, and Jillian had taken the time to make a conscious commitment to do what was necessary to move on. She had to, for the sake of their marriage. She took out the package that had arrived three days ago, opened it, and put the contents in a gift bag, covering it neatly with tissue paper and placing it at the center of their bed.
Okay, she thought, that’s done. She had set her course; changing it now was not an option. Her husband deserved better, and she was determined to see he got it.
THE MEETING IN SEATTLE ended on a success, and the flight home landed at Orlando International on time at six thirty. The trip home was uneventful and smooth. Thomas drove his Chrysler 300 on I-4, heading to Winter Park. It was a short drive.
“So, the next time we fly out, it will be to break ground on the project,” Thomas said.
“Yes, barring any extenuating circumstances,” Jared said, thinking about the name the board chose.
“You don’t like it.” Thomas’s statement cut right to the meaning of Jared’s implication.
“Pike’s Project sounds so damn generic, Thomas.”
“Look at it this way, Jared: It’s a job that’s going to pay us well to complete. What’s in a name?” Thomas had always been the more practical of the two.
“What, indeed,” Jared murmured, reflecting on the events of the day. The name he wanted for their building, Cascade Place, was overruled, even though it fit better with the area and the structure itself. When finished, the newly dubbed Pike’s Project would overlook Mount Rainier and Elliott Bay.
“When we finish with Seattle, I’m taking Jillian on a trip.”
“Oh, where?”
“Back to Tuscany. We had a great time there; we were so happy.” Jared fell silent as he watched the street signs whiz by.
Thomas glanced from the road to his friend. “And so you shall be again, Jared.”
“When, Thomas? It’s been six months since we lost the baby. I’ve had work to keep the demons at bay, but for Jillian, it’s different. She’s stopped catering. She’s like this automaton, seeing to things like a Stepford wife. Beyond that, we’re just going through the motions.”
“So, what are you thinking, a divorce?”
“I love her; divorce is out of the question.”
“What, then?”
Jared shrugged. “I just want my wife back, Thomas, and I’m not sure how to make that happen.”
“How long have you and I known each other, Jared? Forever, right? So, I know for a fact that you will bring her through this.”
Jared wanted to believe Thomas with all his heart. He thought of how Jillian had sounded on the phone when he spoke with her earlier in the morning. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get home.
JILLIAN DRESSED FOR Jared’s return in a black linen sleeveless sheath. The only jewelry she wore was her wedding ring and a pair of diamond studs Jared had given her for her birthday.
Soon. She would see him soon, and she was ready for him. The meal she had planned for him was just about finished. The rolls were warming in the oven, as were the buttermilk parmesan mashed potatoes and creamed spinach. She had finished frosting the mocha chocolate cupcakes just before getting dressed, and a cabernet sauvignon was waiting at the set table. The only thing that remained was the steak.
Right now, the perfectly marbled, dry-aged New York strip was resting, covered, at room temperature, on the counter.
She heard Jared’s key in the l
ock, and she felt the old, familiar flutter in her chest. She hurried to greet him in the foyer.
“Hi.”
Jared dropped his burden of luggage and blueprints, reaching for her. “I’m so glad to see you, Jillian.” When his kiss descended, it was sensuous and lingering.
He cradled her face in his hands gently, drinking from her as if quenching a thirst. When he ended the kiss, he took a step back from her, his eyes traveling from the neat chignon hairdo she wore, down the black dress to her dainty feet. She twirled for him, giving him a better view. “I approve, but what’s the occasion?”
“Can’t a wife welcome her husband home?” Jillian’s hands were resting on his broad shoulders as she looked up to him, her manner demure.
Jared’s keen sense honed in on Jillian’s unusual behavior. “What’s going on, honey?”
She didn’t answer him, only turned away from him and started up the stairs. Jared followed, asking, “What about the steak?”
“It can wait; it needs more time at room temperature before I cook it.” She knew food just as well as he knew architecture. “I have a gift for you.”
Something about the way she was acting reminded Jared of the woman he had married, not the person she became after the miscarriage. Perhaps it was just his imagination, because he wanted so badly for things to be back to normal again.
In their room, Jillian took his hand and led him to the chair next to the bed. She gestured for him to sit. “I’ll be right back.”
He eased back into the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him, watching Jillian retrieve the small gift bag from the center of the bed. She knelt before him and handed the bag to him. “Please accept this gift, Jared, and my most sincere apologies. I know I haven’t been myself since I lost the baby. It can’t have been easy for you these last months.” She raised her eyes to his, continuing, “Can you ever forgive me?”
Nice Girls, Naughty Sex Page 11