by Kim Karr
I read it, and my stance droops a little. Hey, I read it fast the first time so I wouldn’t get caught reading it, okay? And not on purpose. It popped up on his screen when I was making a call from his phone. Then I couldn’t ignore it. It’s not like you wouldn’t have read it either.
“Now read what I answered her back,” he says, rather calmly, I have to say. I would not be so calm if I were him. Just saying.
Next, I read his text, my stance slouching even more, and when I finish, I look up at him. “So you weren’t sexting her?”
That laughter is back. “No, the one I was sexting is you.”
“So you aren’t interested in her?”
He shakes his head no. “Maggie, you are the only girl I’m interested in.”
I find myself invading his space, making room for myself as close as possible. “Oh, I might have jumped to conclusions.”
“‘Oh’? That’s all you have to say?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I also said I jumped to conclusions.”
“Yes, you think!” His voice is loud.
“Turns out, I’m a very jealous woman; I can’t help that.”
Those eyes narrow on me. “The only reason I’m not putting you over my knee right now is because I get that.”
“You do?”
“Maggie, Maggie, Maggie,” he murmurs. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Whatever you want,” I breathe. “Anything you want.” Then I add, “Well, not the spankings. I’ve never been spanked and I’m not a fan of pain.”
Those eyes darken as he shakes his head and suddenly he’s not smiling anymore. In fact, he’s entirely serious.
Cars speed by with horns honking. People pass us on the street. The streetlights glow and snowflakes fall and melt on the ground. But all I can really see, all I can really hear, all I can really smell, is him.
There’s a fire in his eyes, and when he looks at me I swear I’m the one burning. And then, as if the flame is too hot and he can’t take it anymore, his head dips and his lips come crashing down on mine.
And I kiss him back. Boy do I kiss him back. I wind my arms around his neck and curl my fingers in his hair, tugging it, making him groan.
Our tongues stroke in desperation, searching for even ground that I’m not sure we’ll ever find, and not sure I want to find it.
Our mouths pull at each other for an eternity, or maybe more like five minutes, and then he leans back and brushes his thumbs against my cheeks. “I don’t know what this is developing between us, and I want to find out. But you have to know, the thought of any other man’s hands on you is enough to drive me to the brink of insanity.”
I lean back and use my linked hands as support. “Keen, I was not interested in that guy at the bar one bit.”
“I know,” he growls into the cold night air. “Or I would have broken his hand.”
I gasp at the thrill of his jealousy, although I know I shouldn’t.
Wouldn’t you, though?
“Still, Maggie, you left and didn’t tell me. I couldn’t even concentrate tonight not knowing what the hell was going on with you. That is not like me. At all. And then I had to backtrack your steps to find you because you weren’t where you were supposed to be. Do you have any idea how infuriating this night has been?”
The wind picks up and I shiver. “I do. And I’m sorry. It’s just I was mad at you.”
Keen pulls me right up close to his body. “I know and I get it. If I saw something like that on your phone, I’d feel the same way. That’s the only reason I’m remaining sane right now. But you have to know that I want you to be mine, Maggie—how do you not get that?”
I’m trembling, and I swear the earth is moving under my feet. Trying to keep myself from attacking him right here on the sidewalk, I take him by the collar of his trench coat. “I do now, Keen. I do now.”
Be his?
“So we’re clear. No one else, just you and me.”
It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “We’re clear.”
Keen straightens and wraps his arm around me, tucking me into his side. “Good,” he says, and then swats my ass. “Now, let’s get back to the hotel. It’s fucking freezing out here, and you have some apologizing to do.”
My breath hitches and I give him a nod. And then as I snuggle close to him, I can’t help but think…Keen Masters is my boyfriend.
And for as long as I can remember, I am actually okay with putting a label on it.
On us.
On him.
32
THE BEST DAY
Keen
One New York block can seem like a hundred when you’re in a hurry, but seven seems like an eternity.
We walk as fast as we can arm-in-arm. Time is of the essence. We say nothing more. That will just slow us down. We touch as much as possible with coats on and people all around.
Step by step the tension between us rises and twists, coiling tighter and tighter.
I really can’t fucking take another minute of waiting.
Finally, we’re in the elevator and I wish we were in it alone. Because if we were, I’d have my hands up her skirt, checking to see if she removed her panties despite being pissed at me. Then I’d have my fingers inside her, one, then two, then three, and I’d finger-fuck her until she screams my name.
Over and over and over.
The door opens and as a couple is ushered out, I lean in and palm Maggie’s ass under her coat. I can tell right away that she’s not wearing panties and my dick instantly swells in my pants.
She shivers under my touch. Then she looks at me with pouty lips, and if that doesn’t set my blood on fire… She knows exactly what I’m doing. And she knows I know she listened to my command.
“Good girl,” I whisper.
She rolls her eyes.
I move slightly away from her and mouth, “For that you can go without wearing panties the rest of the week.”
“Tell me why?”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes, I’d like to know what you get out of that, other than having control over me.”
I raise a brow and whisper into her ear, “The obvious. I can steal a touch of that pussy that dreams are made of whenever I want. Swipe a finger inside you while we’re in a cab just because I want to feel you. Push you into a dark corner and circle your clit. I can even make you come if I want.”
Mouth parting, she understands me perfectly, and there is no further eye roll. Besides, I think she knows I won’t hesitate to spank her otherwise.
In fact, I just might to prove my point.
And yes, it is about control, but the thrill of having access to her is just as appealing. I’ve never played sex games, but with her, they seem like so much fun. And her reaction is always one I enjoy.
When the car stops at another floor, a few more people get out, and she can finally breath again. That’s when she whispers in my ear, “I’ll be good.”
And yes, I’ll make her come, but I won’t tell her that now. That would ruin the fun of the game for tomorrow. But I do smirk at her and then slide my mouth to whisper something in her ear. “I want to fuck that smart mouth of yours so bad.”
Her lips part on a huge sigh.
The rest of the elevator ride is torture and to pass the seconds, we steal glances and cast smirks and give quick touches. Then we’re on our floor, walking quickly until we reach our hotel room door. And then we’re finally stepping past the threshold—and we’re all alone.
Maggie grabs my tie and tugs me inside the room, and then she shrugs my trench off and pushes me against the wall.
I let her.
In turn, I kick the door closed, tug her coat off, and rip her blouse open. Before the buttons even fall to the ground, she’s on her knees in front of me.
Holy fuck.
Without fumbling she yanks my belt open. Undoes my button and unzips my zipper. My straining cock pushes at the front of my boxers and I’m in her fist before I even have a chance
to make a sound.
Maggie uses one knee to nudge my legs farther apart as she pulls my pants down to my thighs. My boxers, too. I’m mostly naked for her in half a minute.
My cock pulses against her palm as she skims her hand upward, barely brushing my head, but enough that my hips jerk forward in excitement. As soon as they do, she grips my shaft, keeping me in place.
Oh, fuck.
I flatten my palms against the wall and hold on. I have never been at a woman’s mercy like this. Sure, I’ve been blown a million times, but never when I wasn’t the one in control. And never have I wanted it as much as I do right now.
I look down at her, my gaze darkening with an unbelievable bout of lust. Her gaze drifts up, and I see in it the same.
And in that single moment that our eyes lock, she opens her mouth and lets her hot breath seep over my hotter flesh.
It makes me shiver.
With a smile on her face, she brushes my cock against her cheek, close, so close, and yet my tip is not quite close enough to be inside her mouth.
Lower.
Lower.
A little lower.
Not low enough.
Shit.
Teasing me, she breathes against my cock as her hand works it. And then she turns her head, mouthing the inside of my thigh, nuzzling it, and then she nips it and I cry out. I want to reach down and push her head so her mouth is right there, right on my cock, but I don’t.
I’m giving her this.
Letting her control this.
When she runs her tongue along the underside of my cock, stopping just before she reaches the tip, I close my eyes and let my head drop. The long, tortured cry that escapes my throat isn’t a sound I’ve ever made.
Oh, fuck, she’s using her teeth and my body is shaking in a way that I can’t stop.
Soon her hands are moving up and down, up and down, and then a little higher to graze my cock head—that’s when I pump my hips, needing to be in her mouth, needing to fuck her mouth.
I open my eyes and look down.
Her body has gone still.
And then, with small, quick flicks of her tongue, she slides it up my cock from my base to just below my head. Up a little higher to let the wet, hot abyss of her mouth hover over my tip.
I look down another time.
Again she has gone still.
I lick my lips.
Blink.
Wait.
Wait some more.
Still, she does nothing.
I can’t take it.
And then I beg. “Please, Maggie, please.”
At last she engulfs me, takes me down the back of her throat. Tastes me. Sucks me. Devours me.
That’s it.
Oh, fuck.
That’s it.
Greedy, she sucks me hard, concentrating on my head, while her hand, slick with her saliva, strokes up my shaft.
Shards of pleasure spike in my every nerve.
Unable to control myself, I slide my fingers into the back of her hair and anchor her there.
When I give a little tug, she gasps.
This makes her fuck me with her mouth faster, harder. She’s all mouth and teeth and tongue.
Pleasure coils tight and hard, low in my belly and balls. I fuck her mouth harder, faster, and I groan, or maybe roar it’s so loud.
That’s when she lets her jaw go slack to take me deeper. And I fuck her mouth with an urgency I’ve never felt before.
“Maggie,” I groan.
My fingers twist and tangle in her hair.
“Shit,” I say, “oh, shit, this feels so good…I’m going to come, Maggie, I’m going to come.”
I prepare myself to pull out of the blissful cavern that is her mouth, but she doesn’t let me.
“Fuck. Yes.”
My thighs shake as my body starts to surge toward an explosion. Muscles tensing and nerves rapid-fire releasing, getting ready to come.
And then it happens.
I groan.
Wordless.
Desperate.
And I’m coming. Coming. Coming so hard.
Maggie takes everything I give her, sucking hard until I’m spent and softening in her mouth. Even then she’s not done. She places small, tender kisses in the most sensitive places. And her mouth is on my balls, licking, touching, driving me crazy and sending bolts of energy racing through me.
Never wanting this feeling to end, I watch her take everything I have, and I know I have never felt like this with any woman. Ever.
Moved in a way so unlike me, I tug her to her feet so I can tell her what doesn’t make too much sense. Shit, I’m not even sure it’s something a guy should say to a girl, but I do it anyway. “Fuck, Maggie,” I mutter, “I think I’m in lust with you.”
She laughs, but only softly, as if just enough to gauge my sincerity. I get it. It’s the barrier that doesn’t want to come down.
I slump back against the wall and look at her. My hair is damp with sweat, my body ablaze like it never has been before, and the fire in my eyes is the only way to prove my sincerity. “I mean it, Maggie.”
She leans closer. “I think I’m in lust with you too, Keen Masters.”
That’s when I swoop her into my arms. Actions are so much better than words. My hands feel her. My mouth finds hers. My tongue probes hers.
Then I taste myself on her lips, and smile. “Just so we’re clear,” I start, “that is the one and only time I will ever beg.”
Eyes half-lidded and super sexy, she looks at me. “Don’t count on it.”
And fuck, she’s probably right.
If she keeps looking at me like she is right now, I might be begging…a lot.
33
IF THIS WAS A MOVIE
Maggie
It goes one of two ways—always.
Your hotel bed is either made of feathers and so comfortable you never want to get out of it, or it’s made of bricks and so lumpy you can’t wait for morning to just give you a reason to have to get up.
I honestly can’t tell you a freaking thing about the mattress right now. All I know is that sleeping with Keen Masters has to be the most comfortable way to spend the night.
So when the light streams through the curtains that must not have been closed all the way and my eyes pop open, my only worry is that I have overslept, and so has he.
Crap!
We can’t both be late for work.
A familiar, sexy voice breaks through my thoughts. “Good morning, beautiful.”
Blinking a few times, my eyes come into focus and land right on Keen in all his beautiful glory. God, I don’t believe in love, but I swear if I did, I might just think I am in love with him. Not just lust, but love.
And how insane is that?
It’s just…he’s so damn sexy. Everything about him. The way he talks, the way he walks, the way he fucks. Even the way he’s lying at the foot of the bed right now with his head resting on his hand and his eyes blazing with desire meant for me.
Sure, this thing between us has had its ups and downs.
I’m not delusional.
Ours isn’t the typical path to coupledom, or who knows—maybe it is.
Meeting. Fucking. Texting. Sexting. Him ghosting me. Him wooing me back. Me trying to fight him, fight this attraction, ignore this pull, and then finally giving in to it. It doesn’t make me weak. It makes me strong. And now we’re in this place that is undefined, but defined at the same time.
I’m happy with it.
With him.
And I’m going with it. I hope you get it. Understand that I really feel like I can trust him. Little tantrums like what happened our first night here aside, I just know we belong with one another.
My toes press into his side as I rise on my elbows and I let the sheet fall to reveal my naked breasts, because I know how much he likes that. “Good morning. Are we late?”
That wolfish grin shows itself. “It’s Sunday, sweetheart, remember?”
Such great new
s. I could jump up and down on the bed to celebrate, but I won’t. I think I’ll stay here and enjoy the view.
The week flew by. Between meetings, fashion shows, introducing Keen to my mother as more than my prospective boss, and meeting Winston—oh Winston, I rather loved him, he and my mother are perfect for each other—I forgot today is our last day here in New York. “Right. How could I forget that today is the day our little bubble is about to burst.”
His lids drop closed, and stay that way for a moment before he opens his eyes. “I hope that’s not true. I don’t think telling everyone will change a thing. Do you?”
I slowly shake my head, my words hoarse. “No, of course not. That’s not what I mean. I just mean it’s been you and me, and I like it like that.”
That sexy brow rises. “Is that going to change? Are we adding someone to the mix that I’m unaware of?”
I sit up a little higher to see him better. “Stop it. We already tried that, remember? And she liked me more than you?”
He slams his fist to his heart. “I’m wounded by the very memory.”
My lips twist and I can feel my eyes twinkle. “Keen, be serious. You know what I mean. It will just be different with you living next door, that’s all.”
“You got it all wrong, my little bedwrecker. I’m not going to be staying with Cam and Makayla when we return.”
I sit up even higher. “You’re not?”
He shakes his head. “Your mother is renting me her place. Didn’t she tell you?”
Shaking my head, I bury my smile by biting my lip. “No, she didn’t. When did you two discuss this?”
He looks at me with an amused smile. “Last night, when you and Winston walked off to have that private chat.”
I dig my toes farther into his side. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
A throaty chuckle fills the room, and he lies back on the bed, peering over at me. “Oh yeah, why?”
“That leaves me with nowhere to stay when I’m in LA.”
Keen weaves his fingers together and rests them on his chest. “I’m sure we could work something out.”