by M. S. Parker
Confusion crossed her face, and she took a step back. “Why wouldn't you want to?”
“Maybe I don't think I need to prove myself to her.” I scowled. “Maybe I don't trust her.”
I was pretty sure I wasn't talking about Carrie anymore.
Understanding flickered in her eyes, and she walked toward me until there was only an inch between us. I made my hands into fists, reminding myself that it would be a bad idea for me to touch her right now.
“I'm sorry if things were weird with my mom yesterday.” She tilted her head back to look up at me. “I wasn't trying to blow you off or anything like that. I didn't know she was coming, so there was the whole surprise factor. And I had no clue how to introduce you. Or if you'd even want me to.”
Her mouth curved in a sad smile, and I had to resist the urge to lean down and kiss her. Bite her bottom lip until she moaned. I didn't understand how she could make me want to protect her, and at the same time, make me want to spank her ass until it was red. I'd always gotten the domination part of being into S&M, but I knew there was a whole taking care of part of things that went beyond making sure the girl got off. I'd just never really felt it before.
“I mean, really, Dax, what was I supposed to tell her? By the way, Mom, this is the guy I've been fucking since I moved here, but he's not my boyfriend because we're not in a relationship. I just like it when he makes me come so hard that I can't see straight.”
My eyebrows went up as a burst of pride shot through me. I grinned at her. “Oh really? You can't see straight?”
Her cheeks pinked. “That's what you got out of what I said?” She shook her head. “Men.”
“I get it,” I said. And I did. I still didn't like it, but I got it. If I wasn't going to make things official between us, I couldn't really get mad that she didn't know how to define it. “And thanks for asking Carrie to give me my job back.”
“I figured I owed you since I was the one who got you fired.” She pointed at me. “Unintentionally, don't forget.”
“So the job's your way of making it up to me?” I asked. My eyes flicked down to her mouth, and then back up to her eyes. I was tense for a whole different reason now. “Because the way I see it, the job cancels out getting me fired, but maybe you'd like to apologize more...enthusiastically for yesterday.”
It was her turn to cross her arms, but all that did was draw attention to those great tits of hers.
“I'm sure there's something you can do to make it up to me.” I let my gaze go from her tits to her mouth, and my dick went from half-interested to all the way there.
“Is that a fact?” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip, and I barely managed to hold back a groan.
I kept my eyes on her as I undid the button on my jeans, then pulled down the zipper. For a moment, nothing happened, and I wondered if I'd gone too far. Then she reached out and hooked her finger in my belt loop.
“I'm too short to do this on my knees while you're standing,” she explained as she tugged me over to one of the chairs. “And I'd rather not get a cramp from crouching.”
I didn't care about the logistics if it meant she was about to suck my cock. I let her give me a little shove and sat down as she went to her knees in front of me. She tugged my pants and underwear down my hips until my dick was free, bobbing up in front of her like it had a mind of its own.
“Take off your shirt,” I said. “I want to see your tits while you blow me.”
Again, there was a moment where I wondered if I'd taken things too far, but then she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a plain purple bra that matched her shirt. She unhooked it and shrugged it off without the slightest bit of embarrassment. Not that she had anything to be embarrassed about. Her body was gorgeous.
“Make it quick.” I reached out and cupped her cheek, running my thumb over her lips, then slid my hand around behind her head. “We don't got all day.”
She nodded, letting me pull her down to where my aching cock waited. As stubborn and headstrong as she was, she definitely took orders well when it came to sex. She wrapped her lips around my shaft and got to work. Head bobbing up and down as she took me as deep as she could, one hand wrapped around the base to cover what she couldn't get, breasts swaying with the motion. It was sloppy and rough. And fucking amazing.
One day, I’d teach her how to drag things out, how to use her tongue in ways she never imagined. I'd get her to take me down to the root and hold me in her throat. Fuck her face until she could barely breathe.
But not right now.
Now, I just grabbed onto those curls and let her lick and suck all my problems away. I forgot about everything that wasn't the hot, wet suction of her mouth. It wasn't long before that familiar pressure was building up inside me, and I knew I was close. I wanted to go in her mouth, see her swallow every drop, but I wouldn’t force it.
“Where do you want me to come?” I asked. She looked up at me, eyes meeting mine and sucked harder. I ground out a curse, then exploded.
She didn't just swallow but kept licking and sucking until every last drop was gone and my entire body was twitching. I tugged on her hair, pulling her off before she got me hard again. It would hurt to get it up so fast, but I knew if she kept going, it'd happen. We just didn't have the time for it.
I took one look at her swollen lips, glistening with saliva and cum, her eyes dark, chest heaving, and pulled her to her feet as I stood. I kissed her while I worked her jeans open, not caring that I could taste myself in her mouth. I backed her against the door and shoved a hand down the front of her pants, under her panties. She moaned into my mouth as I roughly pushed my fingers into her pussy. She was soaked.
Fuck.
I meant what I said about not having a lot of time, but I was determined to get her off too. I rubbed her clit, twisting my fingers inside her. With my free hand, I grabbed her breast, pinching and rolling her nipple until she was squirming against me. Her hands were under my shirt, nails scratching my back hard enough to hurt, but I wasn't going to complain. I wanted her to mark me, wanted to feel the sting of her nails every time my shirt rubbed against my skin.
I bit her lip, and she came apart. I didn't stop though, taking her as high as possible, swallowing her screams even though I wanted everyone in the shop to hear her. It wasn't that I wanted them to know how good I was, but that I wanted them to know that she was mine. I was the only one who got to own those sounds.
When both of us could breathe normally again, and all our clothes were on right, we headed back out into the shop. I walked her out, told her that I'd call, then headed back inside, already hating what I knew I’d have to do.
“What the hell you doing?” Force asked. “Ain't that the girl who came in here and went all psycho on you?”
I shrugged and let myself give one of those smug grins I hated. “What can I say? The girl's got a mouth on her...in more ways than one.”
“Thought you said she wasn't worth it?” Georgie asked from where he was leaning against the counter.
“Come on, man. You think I'm gonna let you steal a prime piece of ass before I'm done with it?” I'd talked this way about dozens of other girls, but this was the only time I felt sick about it.
“So I can have her when you're done?” he asked.
It took all my self-control not to lay him out and say that no one would be going anywhere near Bryne. Ever. But I couldn't let any of them know that she was anything more than sex, so I shrugged.
“I'll let you know when that is,” I said. “If you still want her then, you're welcome to her.”
He smirked and started telling Focus what he’d do when it was his turn with Bryne. I muttered something about needing to finish a job and walked away before I could forget that beating the shit out of Georgie would be a bad idea.
Chapter Nine
Bryne
I wasn't sure if I should feel cautiously optimistic about how well the week had gone...or scared to death that I was waiting for the other shoe t
o drop without knowing it.
Rehearsals had been better than any I'd ever been a part of. Even with August occasionally playing a bit of a martyr, everyone was great to be around. Everyone was professional, but we had fun too. No one got angry when someone flubbed a line, but it never got out of hand. The director was focused, but not close-minded. Practice was comprehensive, never sloppy, and it wasn't easy, but it was the good sort of hard. The kind that felt good at the end. Like how I felt after an intense workout, or after spending the day cleaning. Not quite as good as I felt after sex with Dax, but it was pretty damn close.
I'd always loved the thrill of the stage, but the politics behind the scenes had never been any fun for me. Some people thrived on that kind of conflict, but I didn't. I could handle myself, and I knew how to keep the stress from getting to me, but I didn't like it. Here, though, there was pressure, but it was different. I knew things wouldn’t always be this good, but I fully intended to enjoy it while it was.
And it wasn't just work that was going well. Mom left halfway through the week, and while we weren't BFFs or anything like that, the tension that had been between us since I told her I was moving was gone. Things were good with her and Gavin too. They were still a little hesitant around each other, but I got that. It had to have been a shock for both of them. I know I'd be freaked out if I found out my father had some other kid out there.
Better than all of that was the fact that absolutely nothing weird had happened with Dax all week. We'd talked or texted every day. Not like big giant conversations where we mooned over each other like a pair of love-struck teenagers. Okay, I was technically still a teenager, but the love-struck part still didn't describe us. We were having fun.
As I looked in the bathroom mirror and fussed with my hair, I couldn't help but think about the fun Dax and I had last night. With him having two jobs again, and how busy I'd been with rehearsal and my mom, we knew we wouldn't have the time to see each other during the week, but that hadn't stopped us from a different sort of indulgence.
“Are you tired?” he asked as I settled into bed.
“Not really.” I stretched out on top of my blanket, still warm and relaxed from my bath. “I figured I'd do a bit of reading to unwind.”
“I don't think so.”
A shiver went through me, and I went from warm to hot. I loved when his voice dropped like that.
“Oh really? Are you offering me a more interesting way to relax?”
“Take off your clothes.”
“Not even going to ask me what I'm wearing?” I teased.
He made a sound like a growl. “Clothes. Off. Now.”
I untied my robe and shrugged it off my shoulders. “Your turn.”
He chuckled. “You want me naked, baby?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say that I always wanted him naked, but I didn't want him to take it the wrong way, think I was hinting at something more permanent.
“Naked and hard,” I said lightly. “Can you blame me?”
He laughed again, and the sound made my nipples harden. He didn't laugh often, and I wished he'd do it more.
“Bryne, I’m always hard around you.”
I flushed. “You sure know how to flatter a girl.”
“I want to do a lot more than flatter you,” he said. “Now, start playing with those gorgeous tits of yours. Make your nipples nice and stiff for me.”
I doubted I'd have to do much work to get my nipples hard. His words had been enough. I was pretty sure he could make me climax just by talking. Still, I put my phone on speaker, and then moved my hands to my breasts. I closed my eyes, imagining it was his fingers on me.
“Are you wet, baby?”
I heard the sound of skin sliding against skin and knew that he was touching himself. If I hadn't been turned on already, knowing that he had his hand wrapped around that thick, beautiful cock of his would've done it.
“Always wet around you.” I gave him back a version of the same line he'd given to me.
“Put one hand between your legs.” His voice was rough. “I want you to slide two fingers inside your hot little cunt.”
A shiver went through me. I'd had a couple dates in the past try to get into my pants talking like that, but all it'd done was piss me off. When Dax said it though, my body responded on some sort of primal level I hadn't been aware of before I'd met him.
“I want you to fuck yourself on your fingers the way you did on mine,” he continued. “And tell me everything.”
I moaned as I pushed two fingers into my pussy.
“Talk to me, Bryne. Tell me what you're thinking, feeling.”
“They're not enough,” I said, automatically obeying him. “Feels good, but not long enough. Not thick enough.”
“What do you need?”
“You.” My befuddled brain struggled to explain so he wouldn't think I was reading too much into what we were doing. “Need your fingers. Your mouth. Your cock. Want all of it.”
Despite my fingers' short-comings, I could feel my orgasm approaching. I just needed him to keep talking...
“Bryne!” Ofelia shook my arm. Her strange, silver-gray eyes were dancing. “You were moaning.”
Heat flooded my face. “Sorry.”
“Don't be,” she said. “Probably the closest I'll be to getting laid for a while.”
I laughed, surprised at how shaky it sounded. “I'll be out in a minute.”
I splashed some cold water on my face, took a moment to slow my racing pulse, and then went back out to finish rehearsal. I was able to keep my thoughts under control while I was at work, but it didn't surprise me that I was having a harder time today. The end of a work week was always more difficult, but knowing that I had Dax waiting for me...it made it damn near impossible to want to get through the next few hours.
Dax was working an early shift at the club today, and I would meet him there after I was done. We were going to dance, and then we were going to fuck.
All weekend long.
That was the plan, anyway.
Carrie and Gavin decided that they wanted to take a vacation before the baby was born and while she wasn't too uncomfortable to travel, so they'd left this morning for LA. They planned on spending some time with her friend Krissy, and I’d have the entire loft to myself while they were gone.
Which meant we didn't have to do the whole hotel thing tonight, and I was looking forward to that more than I probably should. I tried telling myself that it was because I wanted to sleep in my own bed after Dax fucked me hard enough to make me pass out.
It had nothing to do with the fact that I wanted to spend the weekend with Dax, just the two of us. No interruptions. And definitely not because I liked the idea of the two of us in the loft because it'd feel more like a relationship kind of thing. Because it wasn't a relationship.
At all.
And I didn't want it to be one.
I kept telling myself that as I headed back to stage left to wait for the first scene of act two to begin. I needed to get it under control by the time I saw Dax because he definitely wouldn't want me thinking that way.
Not that I was thinking that way in the first place.
I was so totally screwed.
Chapter Ten
Dax
The only reason I'd gotten through this week was because of Bryne. After we'd gotten each other off at the shop, I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what I wanted to do. I ended up going to the club right after I finished work and talked to Carrie. It didn't go as bad as I'd thought it would, but she did make it clear that if I fucked over her niece, my job might not be the worst thing I lost.
I didn't doubt for a minute that she'd follow through on her threat, and I knew that meant I should ease out of things with Bryne. Use work as an excuse to slowly spend less time with her, meet with her more infrequently. Eventually, she'd find someone who could give her more, and she'd be the one to ultimately call things off. Carrie wouldn't be pissed at me, and Bryne wouldn't ge
t hurt.
Except the thought of Bryne finding someone else was almost physically painful. I wanted her to be happy, and I wanted her to be with someone who deserved her. And I knew I wasn't that guy. She liked spending time with me for some reason I hadn't figured out, and we were good in bed, but she deserved someone better than me.
I was selfish though, and couldn't bring myself to tell her any of that. And I couldn't even stop myself from calling her to tell her how things went with Carrie. All week, I kept calling and texting her. Not because I felt like I had to but because I wanted to. I wanted to know how she was doing, what she was doing. They weren't long conversations, but they were more than I'd ever had with anyone else. And I wanted more. I liked talking to her, liked listening to her. With other women, pretty much anything we said to each other had to do with sex, and I didn't want it any other way. I'd always either ignored other stuff or turned it to sex.
Not that I didn't want the sex part of things with Bryne. Just thinking about sex with her was enough to give me a hard-on, usually at the worst possible times. I'd jerked off every night this week thinking about her, imagining it was her hand on me. Her mouth sucking out every last drop of cum. Her tight pussy squeezing me.
We'd made plans to meet at the club tonight, but by last night, I wasn’t able to wait anymore. The moment I heard her voice, I knew I had to hear her get off. It'd taken me about two seconds to get hard, and then I had to work at not coming the moment she started making those great sounds. Whimpers and moans and everything in between. I barely lasted until she came.
Tonight, I planned on having the real thing.
Probably for the last time.
Booker had set the job for tomorrow, which meant I was out of time to figure a way out of it. It'd been a long shot in the first place, but now it was impossible. If I backed out the night before, they'd either think I was a narc, or they'd just be pissed I left them one man short. Either way, the chances of me getting out of this without at least a beat down had disappeared. I was meeting the guys at the shop at the ass-crack of dawn, and after that, who knew what would happen. Even if I made it back in one piece, something made me think that this was the sort of line that, once crossed, would keep Bryne from ever wanting to be with me.