Cherry Popper

by Victoria Quinn

  Now that I knew about her debt, it all made sense.

  She really didn’t have a choice.

  As we sat across from each other at dinner, it was clear she thought very little of me. She wasn’t impressed by my money, even though she had none, and while she was attracted to my looks, she certainly wasn’t attracted to anything that popped out of my mouth. She was very innocent, not just because of her purity, but because of her outlook on life. After having no real experience with men, she thought there were good guys out there.

  No such thing.

  All men wanted to be pigs. All men wanted to be rich, powerful, and fuck an endless line of beautiful women. But that was a fantasy they could never achieve, so they settled for what they could get—one woman who would tolerate them. She mistakenly referred to men like that as Prince Charming.

  The poor girl had a lot to learn about the real world.

  She signed her name on a bill she could never repay, just for the slight chance her mother might survive. No one else would have done that because they had more sensibility. She was too optimistic.

  And that was why she was in this situation in the first place.

  I held my glass as I stared at her, watched the lipstick marks stick to her glass in several places. She had deep brown hair, fair skin the color of snow, and lips so red they resembled blood. The occasional freckle on her cheek contrasted against her pure skin, the only seeming imperfection on a beautiful face. With that stunning frame and even more stunning looks, she could have led a much different life. All she needed was to use that confidence to her advantage, and she could have paved the streets in gold. She could have pursued modeling or acting. She could have easily been a top-billed porn star. Instead, she focused on the books like a nerd for an office job.

  What a shame.

  Dinners like these were used to gauge my interest in the woman. I didn’t just fuck anyone. I needed to feel chemistry, to feel some sort of passion. I got so many offers that I rejected most of them. So women were always on their best behavior, saying what I wanted to hear in the hope they would be chosen.

  Monroe acted like she didn’t want to be chosen at all.

  The best way for me to determine my attraction was by the tightness in my jeans. If I felt myself go hard during the meal because of the way she drank from her glass or licked her lips, I knew she was a suitable lay.

  And Monroe kept me hard through almost the entire dinner.

  When she pulled her hair over one shoulder and revealed her stunning neck, I saw the same breathtaking skin, the softness my lips wanted to caress. She had a graceful neck, slender and long. Her black dress revealed a bit of her collarbone, and that was nice too. I wanted to give it a slight nibble as I kissed her.

  She was taller than the average woman, which was something else I liked. Most women were barely over five feet, but this woman had to be at least five six. She wasn’t close to my height, but at least she was compatible. Women always assumed tall men wanted short women. Not me.

  Her tits were my favorite feature. She was busty for her size, fuller in her chest than she should be. For a woman with a tiny waist and a low body weight, her boobs were unnaturally big. Since she was broke, I knew they were real.

  I’d never cared for fake tits.

  My cock thickened a little more in my jeans when I imagined her underneath me, her tight pussy fighting my intrusion. Once I got my length inside, I would take it easy on her for the first minute, give her a chance to get used to it. Then I would fuck her harder, break her in, and enjoy her cunt to the fullest. It always turned me on when they cried underneath me, and I hoped she did the same, but I suspected she was too proud to do that.

  “What?” She returned her glass to the table and licked her lips.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “I know. But you’re staring at me.”

  “And I’ll keep staring.” My glass was empty, and my meal was finished. Now, all that was left was thinking about her on her back, her tits in my face.

  “What are you thinking about? Must be something important to wear an expression like that.”

  “Fucking you,” I blurted. “That’s what I was thinking about.”

  She held my gaze without fear, but it was clear my bluntness unnerved her.

  The waitress collected the plates and left the tab behind.

  She eyed it before she looked at me. “I’d like to offer to pay for my meal. You know, since this isn’t a date. But—”

  “No.” I pulled out a wad of cash from my wallet and slipped it inside. She was in financial crisis, and there was no way in hell I was letting her pay for a hundred-dollar meal. “That’s not how this works.”

  “Well…thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She finished her wine and left the empty glass on the table. “So, now what?”

  “Ordinarily, we would say goodnight, and Max would let you know if I’m interested.”

  “So you actually reject women?” she asked incredulously.

  “All the time.”

  She continued to wear her surprised expression. “But isn’t that exactly what you want? Virgin after virgin?”

  “Sometimes, I’m not attracted to them. Sometimes, there’s no chemistry. And when you have a high volume of submissions, you can’t get through everyone. You have to choose.”

  “That many women actually come to you?”

  “Why does that surprise you?”

  “Uh, because it’s degrading…?”

  I shrugged. “You get paid well to sleep with a handsome man. It’s not like I’m into some weird shit like BDSM.”

  “I think this still constitutes weird shit. And handsome man?” she asked. “You’re really going to call yourself that?”

  “Are you saying I’m not?” I countered.

  She didn’t give an answer. “Just think it’s arrogant…”

  “I’m very arrogant, so it fits.”

  “So I go home and just sit by the phone?”

  “No. I already have an answer for you.” She ran her mouth constantly and spoke her mind, and I found that oddly refreshing. Women were determined to be quiet and well-behaved, like that was what men wanted. But when Monroe gave her opinions, it reminded me of the suits I worked with on a daily basis. They were aggressive when they spoke their mind—and they made shit happen.

  “And what is that answer?”

  If only she could see my dick. “Are you free tomorrow night?”

  6

  Monroe

  I COULDN’T BELIEVE I was doing this.

  The package arrived at my door. Inside was a key to room 943 along with white lingerie in my size. I was instructed to wear it under my clothes, and once I was inside the room, I was supposed to lie on the bed in just the lingerie.

  Then he would appear.

  I looked at myself in the mirror, seeing the endless strings of the lingerie piece. The bra was so thin, my tits were perfectly visible, and the thong below was made of the same material. So I wore something, but I also wore nothing at all. I shaved everything that morning and submitted all my tests to Max—and also got the shot in my arm for birth control.

  Because Slate wouldn’t wear a condom.

  Not only was I giving myself to this man—I was letting him come inside me.

  It felt a million times dirtier.

  I pulled my black dress over my head to hide my lingerie from view, and I felt the guilt consume me. My mother would be so disappointed in me if she knew what I was doing. Even if I had a one-night stand with some random guy just to get it over with, that would be fine—because it was my choice. But I was only doing this for the money—and that kinda made me a whore.

  But I didn’t have any other choice. That money would make my life so much easier.

  I grabbed my purse and walked out the door, breathing hard because I knew what was about to happen. I couldn’t take a cab because I couldn’t afford it, so I walked seventeen blocks until I re
ached his hotel. It was across the street from the park. It was enormous, glamorous, and fancy.

  I stared at the double doors for a moment before I walked inside.

  A weight settled on my shoulders, and the dread kicked in. It didn’t matter that I’d had an extra day to think about it since we’d had to wait for the shot to take effect; I was still apprehensive. I headed to the elevator doors and hit the button with a shaky hand. It seemed like I was marching to my doom rather than to a passionate night of lovemaking. It didn’t matter that Slate Remington was one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen.

  This just felt wrong.

  I rode the elevator to my floor then located the room where I was supposed to meet him. I knew he didn’t live in his hotel, but he probably didn’t want to bring random women back to his residence.

  I slipped the card into the door, and then it unlocked.

  I stepped inside the large suite, coming into a living room with a set of couches, a large TV, and a bar. The floor-to-ceiling windows revealed the lights of the city as they showcased Central Park. “Slate?” I stepped farther into the room and placed my purse on the dining table.

  There was no answer.

  I turned to the left and spotted the large king-size bed against the wall. The comforter was dark red, along with the pillows. On the wall were portraits of cherries. I stared at the spot and realized this was the exact place all the women before me had lost their virtues. I would be one of many. He probably wouldn’t even remember this night in a few years.

  I began to loathe myself for what I was doing. I was even tempted to walk out and call the whole thing off. But when I walked back to get my purse, I noticed the check sitting there. It was addressed to me—and it was for$100,000.

  Seeing the money with my own eyes reminded me why I was here. It reminded me that thirty minutes of my life would fix a lot of my problems. All I had to do was lie there and wait for him to finish. It might hurt, but it couldn’t be the worst pain in the world. I might bleed, but at least I would ruin his sheets and not mine. Then I could go out and start dating without having to carry around my V-card anymore.

  I stared at the check a moment longer before I pulled my dress over my head. I slipped off my heels and left them on the floor. Now I stood in the white ensemble, an untouched virgin waiting to be taken by an arrogant playboy.

  I moved back to the bed and took a seat, waiting for him as instructed.

  He walked inside several minutes later, wearing a suit and tie like he’d just left the office. He came into my line of sight as he took off his clothes. First came the jacket and then his tie. He set it on the back of the chair before he unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it away.

  His body was hard like his arms. He was over six feet of pure muscle, of powerful striations in between the sections of strength. He had a perfect back that rippled every time he moved, and his tanned skin made his muscles even sexier.

  He really was a beautiful man.

  He moved to his slacks next and pushed them down until he was just in his boxers.

  “Is this where you always—”

  He turned to me, ferocity in his gaze. “No talking.”

  I shut my mouth, not in obedience, but shock.

  He walked to the edge of the bed and looked down at me, an appreciative look in his eyes. His gaze wandered over my body in approval as his cock twitched in his shorts. The outline was noticeable, and it only got bigger. Soon he poked out from underneath the fabric, his thick head impressive.

  He wasn’t kidding. He did have a big dick.

  “Ever had a cock in your mouth?” He lowered his shorts slowly, revealing every inch of his monstrous length.

  “I thought I wasn’t supposed to talk?” I tried not to stare at his dick too much. I was aroused by it but also terrified of it. There was no way it would fit inside me. No wonder why the other women cried. I’d cry too.

  His eyes darkened in irritation. “Answer the question.”

  “Yes. I’ve sucked dick before. I’m a virgin—not a freak.”

  “Then get to it.” His hand moved to my neck, and he pulled me toward him instantly, not even allowing me to make the decision on my own.

  I jerked back. “You aren’t even going to kiss me first?”

  His hand stayed on my neck, his fingers tightening in annoyance. “All I want to do is fuck that mouth. So, open wide, and don’t choke.” He pulled me to him again.

  This time, I turned my face away and stood up. “You’re such an asshole, I can’t believe it.”

  “I’m an asshole? Trust me, you’re going to want me to be as wet as possible before I fuck you. And this isn’t going to be a fairy tale. You’ve sold your virginity to me, and I will take it however I chose. Now get on your fucking knees and suck my dick.” He stepped toward me, his hostility burning with power. He was tall, muscular, and so authoritative he could lead an army into battle.

  I needed that money so badly, but I didn’t want this night to happen. I didn’t want to live with the shame of getting on my knees for an asshole like him. How would I be able to look my husband in the eye knowing what I did? That I’d allowed a man to disrespect me just for money? That’s when I knew I couldn’t go through with it. “I’ve changed my mind.” I stepped around him and headed to the dining table where my dress sat. The check was there, but this time, I couldn’t let it entice me.

  He came after me, his dick still hard despite his ferocity. He grabbed me by the arm and forced me to turn around.

  “I said no—”

  He cupped my face and brought his lips to mine. He kissed me, but not aggressively like I expected. It was soft, purposeful, and so slow, it seemed like he was a different man. His fingers moved into my hair, and he fisted it gently, cradling my head rather than yanking on it.

  The kiss was so nice I forgot about my stampede. It was soft, the way a woman always wanted to be kissed by a lover. I melted instantly at his touch, forgetting the cruel way he’d just bossed me around a second ago.

  His other arm hooked around my waist, and he pulled me tight against his body, letting me feel his dick right against my stomach. He squeezed me as he continued the kiss, giving me his tongue and his warm breaths.

  My hands touched his chest for the first time, and I felt how strong he was. Like he was a solid wall, I felt his hardness, felt his power. My mouth kept moving with his as I sensed the chemistry he mentioned before, the passion between two people innately attracted to one another. When words flew out of his mouth, he was unbearable. But when there was silence, he really was beautiful.

  He slowly guided me back to the bed, his kiss never stopping as he pressed the backs of my knees against the mattress. He ended the kiss and slowly guided me into a sitting position, back to where I’d been just a second before. One hand grabbed his length, while the other cupped my face. “Open, sweetheart.”

  Now that his kiss had sedated my rage, I opened my mouth and flattened my tongue.

  He slowly guided himself inside and moaned when he felt my wet warmth. His hand moved to the back of my head to support me as he started to thrust. He didn’t even give me an opportunity to give him a blow job. He just fucked my mouth like he said he would, slamming deep inside me until I could barely breathe.

  He stared at me with a focused look on his face, his eyes concentrating and his jaw clenched tight. He shoved his cock as deep as he could go, hitting the back of my throat hard with every thrust. Most of his length couldn’t even fit, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

  I gripped his thighs and tried to lean back so I wouldn’t have to take so much of his length, but his hand forced me into position.

  He turned rough again, treating my throat like an experienced pussy.

  That was when I pulled my mouth away.

  He didn’t try to do it again. “On the bed.”

  I scooted back until my head hit the pillow. My mouth was full of saliva now, and his taste was still on my tongue.

  He moved
over me and yanked my thong off my body. He didn’t bother with the top before he positioned himself between my legs and prepared to fuck me.

  It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t what I envisioned my first time to be.

  But I just had to lie there for thirty minutes until he was done.

  That was nothing.

  I could do that.

  But when he pressed his fat head against my entrance, I knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t live with this memory. I would just have to find three roommates and live in a shithole to survive. It was better than giving up like this. “No…get off me.”

  He stayed still, like he couldn’t believe what I’d just said.

  “I said, get off me.”

  He stayed put, and for a second, it seemed like he might do it anyway. But then he rolled off me.

  I left my thong on the ground and moved to the dining room to fetch my dress. I pulled it over my body quickly, slipped on my heels, and then grabbed my purse. I was ashamed of myself for coming here at all, for letting him fuck my throat like it was a toy.

  “Monroe—”

  “I know fairy tales don’t exist.” I turned around to face him. “But I don’t want this to be my first time. I don’t want this memory. Maybe sex is meaningless, but I don’t want my first time to be meaningless. I need that money, but I need my self-respect more. I’m sorry for wasting your time—but I just can’t do it.” I walked out and left the check behind. When I got to the door, I expected him to try to talk me out of it. But he didn’t. He let me go. I shut the door behind me, and when I got to the elevator, I finally released the breath I was holding.

  The elevator took me to the lobby—took me to freedom.

  7

  Slate

  MY PENTHOUSE WAS TOO big for one person, but I liked it because it made me feel alone.

  Made me feel alone in a city as big as Manhattan.

  My floor was high enough that I could barely hear the sirens of the police cars. Only an occasional chopper passed near my window, and even then, I could barely hear the rotor blades. For being a big player in the hospitality industry, I really disliked people.