by Elle Kennedy
“That’s all you’ve got to say?” Ben watches as I munch on a roll, his eyes bewildered. “You’re not going to respond to my proposition?”
I spare him a withering glance. “No.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because it’s so ridiculous it doesn’t merit a response.”
“It’s not ridiculous and you know it.”
“What I know,” I say, swallowing before reaching for another egg roll, “is that you’re nuts. I’m not giving you a place to stay in exchange for sex.”
“Why not? We both know you really need the sex.”
My nostrils flare. Deciding it’s best to ignore this entire absurd exchange, I reach for a carton of chicken fried rice and grab a fork.
My silent treatment seems to work, because Ben closes his mouth. But he continues to watch me, so intently, so knowingly, that it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore the flicker of heat in my belly.
Fine, so maybe his proposition isn’t totally ridiculous. Maybe the thought of having sex with Ben is even more delicious than this food. Maybe giving him a blowjob in the shower had been one of the hottest sexual experiences of my life and maybe I want to do it again.
Doesn’t mean I’ll give in.
“How long is your roommate away for?” he finally asks.
“Eight days.” I chew slowly. “Not that it should matter to you. You’re not staying here.”
He leans back against the sofa cushions. “You don’t find my offer the least bit tempting?”
“Nope.”
“Liar.”
I ignore the jab and dig into a plate of vegetables, hoping he’ll just drop this.
But that’s hoping for too much, of course.
Before I can blink, he swipes the fork from my hands and tosses it on the table. Then, without giving me time to protest, he pulls me onto his lap and grasps my hips so I can’t move.
“Let me stay with you, Maggie.”
“No,” I say, trying very hard to ignore the warmth of his hands against my hips, the heat of his groin against my thighs.
He dips his head and brushes a soft kiss over my lips. My attempt at moving away is futile. He just moves one hand to the back of my head and threads his fingers through my hair, holding me in place.
“Let me stay with you,” he whispers against my mouth. Then he licks my lower lip. Captures it with his teeth and starts nibbling.
I give an involuntary moan.
Grinning, he pulls back. “C’mon,” he coaxes. “You know you don’t want me to leave.”
An argument reaches my lips, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.
“You came to that hotel because you needed a release. I can give you that release.”
I shift, trying to ease off his lap, but all I succeed in doing is rubbing against his dick, which hardens instantly.
“Forget about Tony. I’ll give you all the sex you crave and more.”
My cheeks grow pink and finally I find my voice. “I’m not some virgin you need to deflower.”
“I don’t want to deflower you. I want to fuck you.” His voice takes on a seductive note. “Eight days. For the next eight days I’ll fuck your brains out. Anything you want me to do to you, I’ll do. Anytime you want it, you’ll have it.”
Oh God. His words send a bolt of desire down my spine and straight to my pussy. I’ve already come twice today, but suddenly I’m aching for release again. How does he manage to do this to me, to send me into a state of mindless lust?
“And all you have to do in return,” Ben finishes, “is hang out with me for a while and let me crash here. The way I see it”—his tongue darts out and drags along my bottom lip—“you definitely get the better end of the deal, babe.”
“You don’t play fair,” I accuse.
“Like I said, never have.” He slides his hands underneath my shirt and cups my bare boobs.
A jolt of pleasure torpedoes into me.
“So, what’ll it be? All you’ve gotta do is give me a place to stay and you have your very own boy toy,” he teases. “You know it’s a damn good deal.”
I almost purr as he strokes my breasts and then tweaks my nipples playfully. It’s hard to think with his hands on my tits, but for the life of me, I can’t shrug them away. They feel too good against my flushed skin, the feel of his hard cock between my legs too damn tantalizing.
“Ground rules,” I manage to choke out.
The words surprise me. Ground rules? Am I actually agreeing to this?
Ben sighs. “Let’s hear them.”
“You don’t interfere with my job,” I say firmly. “And you don’t interrupt me when I’m studying.”
“Done. Is that it?” He lightly pinches one nipple with his fingers, and I gasp in delight. Damn him. Doesn’t he know that by doing that to me he’s turning my brain into mush? From the faint grin on his face, he definitely knows.
I make a frantic attempt to think of more rules, but none come to mind. Dammit. This is way too easy—for him. All he had to do was dangle the sex carrot under my nose and I was ready to take a bite out of it. There should’ve been a dozen reasons why letting Ben stay with me is a bad, bad idea, but somehow all those reasons elude me. It doesn’t help that he’s still fondling my breasts, and it definitely doesn’t help that my panties are completely soaked.
“Maggie?” he prompts.
His hands are still under my shirt, his fingers still caressing my painfully hard nipples. His erection remains pressed against my unbelievably wet pussy, and I’m no longer able to concentrate on anything but those sensations.
I suck in a breath and say, “Eight days, Barrett. Don’t complicate my life.”
“And the sex?”
I exhale in a rush. “You just said—anything I want, anytime I want it.” My fingers curl over his impossibly broad shoulders. “Well, I want it now.”
16
Ben
Without a word, I follow Maggie down the hall. She steps into the bathroom, then returns with a box of condoms in her hands, and I’m barely able to conceal my smile of satisfaction. Oh yeah. Not only have I managed to secure myself a place to stay away from the prying eyes of the press, I actually convinced Maggie to go to bed with me. Not an easy feat, considering she’s obviously a workaholic who views sex as a complication.
Fortunately, I am here to fix that.
We reach her bedroom. I stand in the doorway for a second, the smile finally reaching my lips when Maggie flops down on the bed and lies on her back. She’s wearing a loose cotton tank top and a pair of yoga pants, hardly an outfit that screams seduction, but something about the casual attire turns me on. I like that she doesn’t go to great lengths to doll herself up. The way she dresses reflects the no-nonsense attitude I get from her.
“Come here,” she orders, though her voice is equally throaty and apprehensive.
I step closer. “Should my clothes stay on or come off?”
“What kind of question is that? What do you think?”
Chuckling, I grip the hem of my T-shirt and then pull the material over my head.
Maggie’s eyes widen at the sight of my bare chest, and my cock jerks in response. No matter how annoying she claims to find me, she can’t deny her attraction and we both know it.
Unzipping my jeans, I slide them off and kick them aside. My cock happily springs up.
Her breath hitches. “No boxers?”
“I need to go shopping for clothes tomorrow.”
“You don’t need clothes. You’re much more attractive naked.”
I hold my hand to my heart and shoot her a mock smile. “Aw baby, was that a compliment?”
“Unfortunately.” She sighs dramatically. “I should’ve known better. Your ego’s big enough already.”
Buck-naked I approach the bed, frowning when she makes no move to undress. “Take off your clothes,” I command. “I feel at a disadvantage.”
“Take them off for me. You’re the boy toy, remember?” She
gives a mischievous grin. “Besides, if you want to stay here, you need to earn the room and board.”
I can’t stop another chuckle. I like sassy women. I like this one in particular, but I suspect that’s because she isn’t deliberately trying to be sassy. She simply is.
“C’mon, Mr. Movie Star. Let’s see what you’ve got,” she taunts.
My eyes narrow. “Is that a challenge?”
“Yep. And at the moment you’re definitely not meeting it.”
I sit down on the edge of the bed. “You realize you won’t be this smug when I’m through with you?”
Before she can answer, I lean forward and grasp the waistband of her pants. Slowly, I roll the material down her smooth legs, brushing my fingertips along every inch of skin that I reveal. I hear her breath hitch again and fight a smile. No matter how much she pretends to be in control, I know that all it’ll take is one touch, one lick to her pussy, and she’ll be a moaning, trembling mess.
I throw her pants on the floor before focusing my attention on her tank top. Instead of removing it, I stretch out beside her and kiss her breasts through the shirt. The kiss leaves a wet spot on the material and causes both her nipples to pucker eagerly.
“Let’s get this off,” she says, fumbling for the hem of her top.
“No.”
I grab both her hands with one of mine and shove her wrists over her head, clasping them with my fingers. Dipping my head again, I rub my mouth over her covered tits, then bite one of her nipples. She flinches, but I know I haven’t hurt her. The glazed look in her eyes tells me she’s enjoying every second of this. I continue to nibble, my tongue pulsing with the need to slide underneath the thin shirt and taste her skin. But not yet.
Not until she begs for it.
Maybe it makes me a pompous ass, but I want this woman to beg. She might’ve agreed to let me stay at her place, and to hop into bed with me, but she’d acted almost like she was doing me a favor, and I’m desperate to prove to her that our attraction goes both ways. That she wants me just as badly as I want her.
Still holding her wrists against the headboard, I slide my free hand up her body and cup one perky breast. I squeeze, enjoying the little whimper of distress she gives. Nearly a full minute ticks by, but still I make no move to rip off her shirt, instead teasing her tits and kissing her nipples until she squirms beneath me.
“Please,” she finally begs.
I poke my tongue in my cheek and lift my head to meet her agitated green eyes. “Please what?”
“Please take my shirt off.”
“Anything else?” I ask mockingly.
I see the cloud of desire and irritation on her face, and I know it’s hard for her to admit how badly she wants this. Needs this. She surprises me, though. With a strangled groan, she sucks in a long breath, then says, “Fuck me, Ben. Please.”
It’s all I need to hear.
With a groan of my own, I tear the tank top off her body and press my mouth to her delectable tits, feasting on each one. I don’t think I’ll ever get my fill, but the heat of her pussy against my hip is too hard to ignore.
Sucking one nipple deep in my mouth, I hook my thumb under the waistband of her panties and push them down. I cup her, moaning when her juices coat my palm.
“You’re so fucking wet,” I croak.
She makes a grumbling sound. “You seem to make that happen. A lot.”
I bristle at her forlorn tone. “Don’t act like you don’t love how wet I make you.”
To prove my point, I shove one finger inside her pussy, and it’s instantly surrounded by heat and moisture. My mouth tingles, aching with the need to taste this girl again. Releasing her wrists, I plant one last kiss to her breasts and then slide down her body until my head is positioned between her thighs.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “I’m dying to put my mouth on you again.”
“Then do it,” she whispers.
My tongue travels along one firm thigh, licking her smooth skin before gliding toward her clit. Her soft moans drive me wild, light my entire body on fire, but I manage to hold on to my restraint. Maggie gives a breathy whimper as I flick the tip of my tongue over her swollen clit, and when I begin to suck on it, she shudders. I lift my head, grinning at the desperate heat flashing in her eyes. Pleased with her reaction, I continue to explore her sweet pussy, enjoying the way she arches her hips to allow me greater access. I add a second finger into the mix and begin a lazy rhythm that causes another moan to escape her lips. When her hands start clawing at the sheets, I finally quicken the pace, suck hard on her clit, and she promptly topples over the edge.
She comes hard, and just listening to her hoarse moans and feeling the orgasm vibrate through her body makes my cock twitch with anticipation.
I give her some time to recover, my head resting on her thigh, my heart pounding like a jackhammer. When she goes still, I slide my way up her body and kiss her hard, but she quickly wiggles out from under me and pushes me onto my back.
“My turn,” Maggie says, a hazy glow in her eyes.
“Didn’t you just have your turn?” I mock.
“Just shut up and enjoy this.”
My blood surges as her fingertips graze my neck, and my pulse speeds up when I notice the wicked gleam in her eyes. The memory of what she did to me in the shower earlier, with her lips and tongue and hands, floats into my head and my dick begins to ache. I’m so turned on I don’t think I can handle another blowjob, no matter how incredible it is. I won’t last long at all, and I still want to fuck her.
“Don’t worry, I’ll stop before you come,” she mocks back, as if she’s read my mind.
A second later her mouth clamps down on my neck. She sucks on it, the pressure of her lips causing a shiver to sizzle down my spine and grab hold of my balls. Closing my eyes, I lose myself to sensation, to the feel of Maggie’s lips trailing wet kisses along my flesh. Her mouth travels toward to my chest, where she nibbles on one flat nipple, then down to my abdomen, where she licks the line of hair leading down to my crotch. When she finally reaches my cock, I’m harder than ever and so close to exploding I can barely move.
One lick, one light kiss to my pre-come-soaked tip, is all I’m willing to allow. Any more and I’ll be shooting my load in her mouth, when all I want to do is bury my cock inside her.
Laughing quietly, she puts me out of my misery and climbs back up, straddling me with her long legs. “You’re close, aren’t you?” She leans toward the nightstand and reaches for the condom box.
“What the hell do you think?” I growl. My cock twitches as she covers it with a condom.
“Pity. I expect my boy toys to possess stamina,” she says with mock disapproval.
Before I can offer a comeback, she sucks the breath right out of my lungs by impaling herself onto my dick. White-hot pleasure slices into me like a knife.
“Jesus,” I grunt.
“Still close?” she teases.
I manage a nod. Shit. I’m impossibly turned on, and dangerously close.
I rise up in an attempt to kiss her, but she shifts her head so my lips connect with her cheek, and makes a tsking sound. “None of that,” she chides. “I’m still having my way with you.”
Then she presses her mouth to my jaw, planting barely-there kisses. She grinds her lower body against mine but doesn’t ride me the way I want her to. When I make another attempt to kiss her, she allows it, but this time her tongue is in charge, exploring my mouth with precision.
I groan, the guttural sound filling the bedroom.
Maggie breaks the kiss with a faint grin. “You know,” she muses, “I recall you telling me I wouldn’t be so smug once you had your way with me…and yet I’m still feeling smug.”
“Yeah, what about now?” Without giving her time to react, I dig my fingers into her hips and thrust upwards, driving my cock deeper inside her.
She gasps, her eyes wide with pleasure and surprise. “Now…I’m feeling less smug,” she admits, then cries out when I g
ive another hard thrust.
“And now?”
“Now…I’m…um…” Her expression glazes over as she struggles to speak.
I thrust again.
“And now?”
She gives a breathy moan. “Now I just want to fuck you.”
And she does. She rides me so hard I can barely see straight, her pussy clamped so tightly around my dick that I’m mindless with intense pleasure bordering on blissful pain. I lock my gaze to hers and watch as her expression changes from needy to satisfied, and then she’s coming again, her inner muscles squeezing my cock and triggering a climax that turns my vision into a mist.
Maggie collapses on top of me, her breasts crushed against my damp chest, her breathing ragged. After a moment she moves off and lies flat on her back, those gorgeous tits rising and falling with each breath. I stay quiet, trying to control my own breathing, trying to recover from the body-numbing release.
“So…anytime I want it?” she asks, and her voice is a bit wheezy
I find myself laughing. “That’s what I promised, didn’t I?”
“Good.” She rolls over, presses her cheek against my chest and promptly falls asleep in my arms.
17
Ben
It only takes three days for me to realize that Maggie Reilly needs a lot more than sex. She needs a goddamn vacation.
I honestly can’t understand how she lives the way she does. Her life revolves around work and school, and while I admire her self-discipline, it’s almost superhuman. She spends the mornings studying and writing papers, and the afternoons at the community center where she volunteers. Then she comes home and buries her nose in a textbook for a couple more hours. By the evening, she’s getting ready to go to work, where she spends the night waiting tables. She returns around two a.m. and goes straight to bed. She eats only when I force her to, and shoots down my suggestions that she take a walk or watch Netflix with me. In fact, the only time she actually seems grateful for my company is when we’re in bed together.
She’s more interested in my body than in my attempts for us to get to know each other. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about the sex—if anything, it only gets better each time we get naked. But it bugs me that Maggie doesn’t make any time for herself, and it’s becoming unsettlingly obvious that Maggie needs more than sex. She needs fun. Relaxation. A life.