Table

of Contents

4 Men Of The House

Also By Crimson Vixens
Dedication
Description
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
3 Men Of The House
Wanted: Big Bad Brother
Baby Bargain
Now or Never
Double Feature
Double Dealing
Caught On Tape
Taste
 4 Men Of The House





By Daphne Dawn and Natalie Knight


Copyright 2018 by Crimson Vixens
All rights reserved



This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.
This work intended for adults only.



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 Also By Crimson Vixens

Vivien Vale
Mountain Man Baby Daddy
Hard Pressed
Hard Bargain
Hard & Fast
Hard Luck
Second Chance Baby Daddy

Daphne Dawn
3 Men Of The House
Double Dealing
Double Feature
Double Stuffed
Wanted: Big Bad Single Dad
Triple Pleasure
Triple Taught
Goldicox

Natalie Knight
Taste
Painting Her
Caught On Tape
The Other Brother
Wanted: Big Bad Brother

 Dedication

To the 4 best friends a girl could ask for.
 Description

One woman versus four brothers.

We want her for her body.
Now she’s gotta decide which of us to call Daddy.

Megan.
Pretty little vixen in the black silk Dolce & Gabbana.
Tries to act the good girl till we slip it off her.
Then tempts and teases us in her red La Perla.

She was sent to spy on us.
Gather dirt and destroy us.
What she didn’t know was she’d fall in love.
But it’s not just her.
The four of us are now her world.
Protect her with no doubt.
Take her at night.
Watch as her eyes close while she screams out.
As she takes us in with those hips.
While our teeth sink into her lips.

We’ll save her from the scumbag who sent her to destroy us.
When he comes looking for her, we’ll be waiting.
Heaven help him if he tries to hurt her.
We’ll take down anyone he brings.
Afterwards, it’s just us. Always and forever.
Happily ever after for the five of us.
And in nine months, make it six.
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Daphne Dawn
Chapter 1

Meg


The cab driver slowly pulls up to a beautiful, multimillion-dollar estate. The tree-lined driveway is
about a mile long, but I savor every second that it takes to reach the large house.
I’m dreading everything about this job. I’m walking into a situation for which I am not prepared.
In truth, I blame Simon. This is all his fault.
Yes, he’s been my boyfriend for the past five years. But he’s also been a real jerk. I’d say he’s
borderline verbally abusive to me—and this latest event is not helping his case.
I’m here because of him. I’m here under false pretense. I’m going to be posing as a maid.
This situation is just laughable because I’m not the tidiest person in my own life. I don’t clean, and
yet here I’ve been sent to the Belcourt Estate to work as a maid.
George Belcourt died about a month ago. He had a heart attack.
Simon wasn’t sad to see him go. And neither was George’s mistress, Joan, who is Simon’s mother.
The two of them together are the most money-hungry people I’ve ever met.
George must’ve known that his mistress, Joan, was only out for his cash because he deliberately
left her out of his will.
It doesn’t matter how many scores of diamonds and rubies he bought her, how many fur coats or
trips to the south of France—all of it pales in comparison to the billion-dollar fortune he left to his four
stepsons…not including Simon.
These stepsons are to be my new targets. I’m here at the estate to spy on the brothers and to try to
understand how Simon can fit himself and his mother back into the will.
It’s a fool’s errand because any normal person can see that all the proper documentation is in place.
George’s will was composed by the best, most top-of-the-line lawyers money can buy. That document’s
gotta be ironclad.
But alas, I find myself here.
I don’t know how Simon plans to amend it, but I do know that if I don’t do this task for him, I’m in
big trouble. If I don’t betray these brothers and get some dirt on them, Simon will do everything in his
power to ruin my life.
Like I said, he’s kind of a bad egg…an asshole really. And I want out.
I figure if I do this one chore for him and he inherits some money, he’ll be so blissfully unaware of
me that I can just sneak away. He’ll be so into parties and money that hopefully ruining my life won’t
matter so much to him, and I can just leave.
 I plan to escape to somewhere tropical when this is all over. Just me and a margarita on the beach.
No Simon, no Joan, just peace.
I’ve wanted out of the relationship for a while, and this escape to the country may not be such a bad
thing for me personally...if it means setting in motion my plan to get away from Simon.
This time apart may do us good. And most of all, it may provide me with a perfect opportunity to
leave.
Simon’s not a pauper by any means. He doesn’t have a billion-dollar fortune, but he does have
enough money and connections in New York City to make sure that I never get ahead.
I’ve threatened to break up with him before, and all it did was get me in hot water. He said he’d
ruin me if I ever left him. And I believe he could do it.
I don’t even want to think of what my life would look like if I broke up with him. Though it’s what
my heart is aching to do.
And so I feel a sick kind of fluster of nerves as the cab pulls up to the mansion. The prospect of
having to be someone I’m not is just not my thing.
I pride myself in being an honest person. And yet this horrible position Simon’s put me in will
assure that I have to undermine the Belcourt brothers—these men I don’t even know but have definitely
heard about.
There’s a certain amount of infamy that comes with the Belcourt family name, and I’m about to walk
straight into it.
“Well, here you go, honey. Good luck. By the looks of this place, I don’t think you’re going to need
it,” the cab driver says.
“Thanks,” I say, tossing him some money—a lot of money, considering we just came from the city.
I get out of the cab and look at my new future.
This place is gorgeous. It looks like your classic English manor, with the brick façade and ivory
climbing up around every window. The grounds exude a sense of legacy, with old oak trees rooting down
into the earth and revealing how historical the mansion must be.
I feel a cool breeze coming off the lake at the side of the house.
It really is a magnanimous place, which I would feel better able to enjoy if I didn’t have the weight
of Simon’s mission hanging around my shoulders. He expects me to report to him and everything.
I try to tame the aching sense of foreboding at having to be a spy, and I confidently ring the bell.
Some guy, some kid, swings open the door to reveal a flurry of people running around behind him
with various tasks at hand.
“Hey, who are you?” he asks.
“Me? Oh, I’m Meg. Mrs. Simmons sent for me. I’m here to be the new maid.”
This kid can’t be more than sixteen years old. He stares at me—or rather ogles me—as all teenage
boys are tempted to do.
 And then he says, “Okay then. Well, Mrs. Simmons is upstairs. I’ll get her. I’m her son.”
Mrs. Simmons is the head of the household, and she’s the one who hired me. I had rather expected
her to answer the door and for things in the mansion to be quiet. Instead, there are people running every
which way with flowers and decorations, oversized candles, swaths of fabric, and technical equipment.
The boy is gone before I can stop him and ask what’s going on. I shuffle my feet nervously in the
doorway, waiting for direction on where to go.
This is not my usual gig. I don’t know how a maid is supposed to act. Luckily, I don’t have to wait
long because an older, homely looking woman who I can only assume is Mrs. Simmons appears.
She comes down one of the two grand staircases that adorn the room.
“Oh, Meg. How lovely to see you. I’m so glad you found the place,” she says warmly.
“Thanks. It wasn’t hard to find. Most people seem to know about the Belcourt Estate,” I say.
“Yes, well, George…Mr. Belcourt was very generous with the local people. He’s been a huge loss
to our community.”
“I can imagine,” I say with all sincerity.
She wipes a tear from her eyes, and I can tell the loss of Mr. Belcourt is still fresh on her mind. Her
vulnerable state obviously makes me feel more than horrible about my intentions for being here.
I could just strangle Simon for making me do this.
“Well, honey, let’s get you all settled in,” Mrs. Simmons says.
I pick up my one duffel bag and follow her up the grand staircase.
I venture to ask, “Hey, Mrs. Simmons, what’s going on here anyway? Are there always so many
people in and out of the mansion?”
“Oh, no, honey. There’s a party going on tonight. That’s why everyone’s here. In fact, I hardly have
time to get you settled, because there’s so much to do. The florist is late with the flowers, and somehow I
have to organize a staging room for some band called Haven.”
“Haven? You mean Haven is coming here tonight and playing at this party?” I ask incredulously.
“You’ve heard of them?” she asks over her shoulder.
“Um, yeah” is all I say, though I’ve been trying to get tickets for weeks. “So, do these parties
happen often, or is tonight a special circumstance?”
“Yes, well”—she sounds like she might start crying again—“Mr. Belcourt always threw the best
parties, and his sons are trying to honor that tonight. It’s the one-month anniversary of his death.”
I try not to prod her further, as she’s visibly upset. She’s a hell of a lot more upset than Simon was
when he heard the news.
Mrs. Simmons shows me very long corridor, and then she opens the door to a beautiful room that
overlooks the garden. It’s in impeccable shape. The design is modern with crystal chandeliers and
contemporary furniture.
A tufted white bed hosts several white duvets, and it looks like a cloud. There’s an adjoining bath
and closet.
I was expecting more austere maid’s quarters, but this is very plush. It almost feels like I’m more of
a guest here rather than staff.
“I hope that you’re comfortable here and that you have everything you need. Joan spoke very highly
of you.”
“Oh, Joan,” I stammer. “Yes, thank you. I think I should settle in very nicely here. Please let me
know if there’s something I can do to help. Do I need to clean something?”
“Oh, heavens no, child. We won’t expect you to start work on a day like this when there’s a big
party happening. In fact, you’re free to explore the grounds, and you can attend the party as a guest if
you’d like.”
She leaves me alone, and her words are music to my ears. I definitely don’t feel like cleaning. And
from the looks of it, this party is shaping up to be a grand time.
I think back to the big fluffy bed and how lucky I am to have landed here. I might have to do a little
spying, but that’s a bargain price to pay for living in a mansion like this.
I drop my bag into a corner and look around the room at the crystal light fixtures and the special
touches. I can really be happy here.
I’ll never tell Simon how beautiful it is and how happy I feel. I’m happy I’m away from him, and
that’s enough for now.
Besides, I have better things to do, like pick out an outfit for the party. Luckily, I thought to bring my
favorite black slinky dress.
I check out the sumptuous bathroom that has a claw foot tub and views of the gardens.
I light a couple candles and draw myself a bath. Then I sink into the warm, bubbly water and enjoy
an afternoon off—an afternoon of total relaxation.
Chapter 2

Evan


I have her pressed against the stony exterior of the house.
Her tits are pressing against the rock wall, and her hands are extended over her head where I have
a firm grasp on them.
I’ve been eyeing this blonde since the party started, which was not too long ago.
One look from my smoldering eyes, and I had her wet and aching for it.
I’m not totally unaware of the fact that she knows I just inherited a billion dollars. That’s half the
reason she’s here, taking my cock in like a pro. She wants my body, but more than not, she wants my
money.
She’s hoping that by fucking me tonight, she will somehow become my girlfriend. Little does she
know that her motives are all too obvious.
Ever since I inherited so much money from my father, it’s been a near constant stream of socialites
and models thinking I’m marriage material...which I’m not.
I’m self-made. I have my own millions stored away, and I’m used to gold diggers—but now that my
father, the legend, has passed away, everyone wants to be the new Mrs. Belcourt.
I just couldn’t wait for an entire party to go by before I fucked this girl. Her name is Tiffany...I
think. She’s a socialite or something.
I know she’s not a runway model, as many of the guests are, because she’s too curvy and perfectly
round for that.
One thing’s for sure, she has a tight little ass and nice tits. That’s enough for me to get off on for one
night.
“Oh god, Evan, you’re so good,” she says as I thrust my huge cock into her.
Yeah, tell me something I don’t know. I’m the best in bed that most women have had. I pride myself
on that fact and have a nice little reputation growing around town.
Everyone wants to bed one of the Belcourt brothers. I figure that my reputation better live up to my
name, and by the way she’s panting and yearning for it, I think I’m doing a good job.
Also, she’s a good one-night fuck.
Tiffany fits the criteria of this night perfectly. She was practically begging for it right when she
showed up for the party. And who am I not to deliver?
Naturally, I’m probably the first brother she ran into. And so I conveniently fit her bill as well. She
would’ve fucked anyone of us—that I know for sure—so I feel less bad that this is just a one-time thing.
 I slam into her a few more times, causing her to cry out. Then I grip the sides of her hips and
prepare to take it home.
I circle her magic button with one hand. I’m always cautious to make sure that any woman I’m with
has a good time. If they don’t come at least one time, I consider the fuck to be a failure.
So I finger her magic button as I plunge into her from behind. The stony exterior of the house
provides a nice backdrop to our little soirée. It gives me plenty of support to fuck her hard.
With one ragged, gasping breath, I plunge into her deeply and release my seed.
She screams out, and I feel a warmth spreading from within her pussy. She comes at the same time
as me, and I can tell by her vibrating body that it was as good for her as it was for me.
I pull out of her and slap her ass for good measure before pulling her red satin dress back down.
The thought of her walking around the party with my essence inside of her is such a turn on. It’s not
like I’m going to see her again, but for this night, it’s enough to know that my cum is sliding out of her
cunt.
“That was good. You’re very good, Evan. Maybe we could hook up sometime?” she says with a
hopeful tone.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, zipping up.
I fully intend on blowing her off. This is not the kind of woman I want to be seen with. In fact, I
kind of like being alone.
I’ve come to realize that no woman out there can fit my high standards, so why try?
Just then, I’m saved by one of my brothers. He couldn’t have shown up at a better time. Ian rounds
the corner and sees us pulling ourselves together.
Tiffany looks freshly fucked with bed head and my hot semen dripping down her leg.
“Tiffany, this is my brother, Ian,” I say, making the awkward introduction.
She eyes him up and down, and I can tell that she’s thinking there may be a better brother for her. If
I won’t marry or date her, then maybe he will.
Like I said, any Belcourt brother is considered a win.
What she doesn’t know is that Ian is as much of a playboy as I am. We kind of run in the same pack.
Ian takes her hand and kisses it in a show of gallantry. He’s always showing off, and he likes the
limelight. Even if he doesn’t mean the gesture, the pure fact that Tiffany is getting off on it makes Ian
happy.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tiffany,” he says, and she flushes hot pink.
You see what I mean? She’s still got my seed inside of her, and yet she’s already making it known
that she wants my brother.
She’s already angling for a way into his life. That’s not true love. That’s barely even lust.
That is a woman who is more concerned with superficial things and the size of my cock than
anything else. And it doesn’t interest me. Since this seems to be the only type of woman I find in NYC,
then I guess you can say I’m content with being single.
“Well,” I say, “we should probably be getting back to the party.”
I lead Tiffany around the corner toward the glitz and glamour.
She walks ahead of us, and I have a chance to speak with Ian.
It’s another one of our usual parties, only they seem to get more glamorous every time. Party
planners compete against each other as they try to vie for the business of the newly inherited Belcourt
brothers.
It’s only been a month since my father has been cremated, and yet the vultures are circling. And
here we are, standing in his place, trying to do right by him.
People have come to expect a certain kind of opulence when they visit the Belcourt Estate. My
father was known for throwing the best parties within and outside of New York City. And I guess you
could say my brothers and I are trying to keep up with the family name.
When I’m not in the city doing business, I’m out here, enjoying certain comforts of the country life.
It’s great to escape from it all.
Sometimes, my job as a financial planner can get a little stressful. Working on Wall Street is
exciting, but sometimes it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
That’s why I like to get away from the stress and strain of the city and be here at my father’s estate
where things seem to take on a slower pace.
None of that is evident tonight, of course. We have the crème de la crème of New York society
here.
The air is buzzing with celebrity sightings and the pure eagerness of having been invited to one of
the most exclusive parties this mansion has ever seen.
Everyone who’s anyone is here. The social set: models, businessmen, and women—the usual
crowd.
The party planners have brought the glittering life of New York City to the mansion. They’ve
transformed the place into a glamorous and over-the-top event.
It feels like a fantasy come true. People are dressed up in their finest as if they’re going to the Met.
Ball gowns and tuxedos litter the party, and limousines line the driveway for a full two miles down.
It’s a celebration, for sure. And I’m especially in the mood to celebrate today.
Our father passed away a month ago today, and we’re doing this to commemorate him. There was
nothing he loved more than a good party.
I miss him dearly. My brothers and I have also had the surprise fortune of inheriting his entire
billion-dollar estate, but I’d rather have more days with him than any of that.
I can make my own money, and I always have. I’m a multimillionaire in my own right. The extra
cash doesn’t hurt, but he definitely didn’t owe us anything.
I loved my father—we all did. Though we’re not his children by blood, and even though he married
each of our mothers in a grand total of four failed marriages, he was good to us, my brothers and I.
George Belcourt taught me everything I needed to know in life. We had a wonderful father-son
relationship.
He taught me how to fish and hunt. He taught me how to take care of myself in the wilderness. He
bought me my first tuxedo for prom, my first car, and my college education.
He helped me through the one and only time I’ve fallen in love and had my heart trampled on. And
he’s always been the one guy, the one person I can count on in life—and now he’s just…gone.
He’s sorely missed. And this party is kind of in recognition of him and his life. He would’ve
wanted us to go on, to continue throwing the glamorous parties that make the Belcourt name known around
town.
He would’ve wanted us to enjoy his new fortune and to not get hung up on the details.
I turn toward Ian, and we’re just watching all the people dance and mingle. It’s like every party our
father ever hosted out here…except he’s gone.
I know Ian’s thinking this, too. But we’re both also determined to have a little fun.
Chapter 3

Ian


I watch it all go down throughout the day. There’s so much chaos in the house, and I get off on the
action.
The party planners pull together everything perfectly. This party better go off without a hitch. We’re
paying enough for it.
Money is not an object now, not that it ever was. We’ve inherited our father’s fortune. It does
nothing to cover the pain of losing him, but money never hurt a thing.
We have an obligation to keep my father’s memory alive, and there’s no better way to do that than
to throw the most elegant party that New York society has ever seen. Even on the outskirts of the city, in
this beautiful country estate, we’re the talk of the town.
As dusk settles around us, I follow up on the caterers and make sure everything’s arranged. I want
drinks flowing and the champagne fountain to be in perfect accord.
Likely, everything will run smoothly, according to plan, just as it always does.
I go to my rich, overstated room and change into my tux, imagining how the night will go. Probably
it will be the same old crowd, and I can only hope to meet a nice model or someone to fuck later.
I let the rain shower fall over me. I like it hot, and the water slides down my rippling abs and
perfectly sculpted muscles. I work hard on this body, and it shows.
I slap on some aftershave, run a comb through my hair, and put on the outfit the butler has laid out
for me.
As I walk through the foyer in my tux, all eyes are on me. The household staff look at me with a
certain amount of awe, and it’s the usual.
My blonde hair and rugged, tall stature give me a certain amount of presence. I know how to
command a room. I always have.
The party’s in full swing. The band’s in place, and people start filing in.
It’s a beautiful party—glamorous and everything. But it’s also nothing I haven’t seen before. Ever
since my mother met George Belcourt, I’ve been going to these parties.
Have I become jaded? Maybe a little.
I’ve been given so much, having gone to Yale and everything. And it’s not that I’m ungrateful—it’s
that I haven’t found my passion, or something or someone that will keep me interested for any length of
time.
I have my brothers, though. All four of us have remained a united band ever since we met. Thank
god for George Belcourt. My father might’ve married four separate women, but that didn’t make us any
less of a family.
Though the guys—Evan, Paul, and Matt—are not technically my blood brothers, we’ve been
through everything together. And what’s more enduring than that?
I love socializing, though, and so this is more of my scene than anything else. I like to make the
incoming socialites feel especially comfortable. A lot of them I know, a lot of them I don’t, but I always
enjoy the sight of a beautiful woman.
“Hi, Ava.” I kiss her cheek. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Where have you been hiding?”
“Oh, Ian, you know me, I’ve been traveling around the world. Mostly Europe, but we went to
Greece also. And let me tell you, those Grecians know how to party. It was the wildest time. You
should’ve been there.”
“I’ll have to catch you in the next round,” I say.
This girl, Ava, I’ve known since college. She’s a trust fund baby, and she’s never had to work a day
in her life.
Technically, I’m a trust fund kid, too, but the difference between me and her is that I actually go to
work. I enjoy the feeling of making my own money.
I’m one of the most successful lawyers in New York City. And having that much power makes
every second of law school worth it.
So while she and a lot of my friends are trouncing around the world on their parent’s dimes, I’m
usually away at the office, struggling to fight for people’s rights.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m locked up in a hole somewhere. I have a penthouse office that
overlooks the entire city. I’m living my dream—and the dream, to me, involves having a strong work ethic
and a purpose in life.
It was George Belcourt who taught me this.
Yes, I could’ve lived off my parent’s money. Yes, I now have a huge inheritance. But none of that
means anything if you don’t have strength of character.
My father showed me how money can lead to a hollowed existence if you don’t have the substance
to back up your life. And that was perhaps his greatest lesson. And it’s why I’m standing here today, why I
don’t envy Ava or her social circle for flying around the world and just trying to party.
“Ian, this is my friend, Elena. She’s from Spain. We just got back. Let me tell you, Barcelona was
amazing. Have you been there?” she asks.
I’m too busy sizing up her friend, Elena. She’s tall and has a striking face and a gorgeously thin
body.
“Um, no, never been to Barcelona. I’ve been to Madrid, though, on business, and it was
incredible.”
Elena says in her sultry Spanish accent, “Madrid? That’s fabulous. I grew up there.”
 “Look,” Ava says, inserting herself into my moment with Elena, “you guys have something in
common. Ian, you really must travel with us next time. You’re missing out on so much. I don’t see how you
can stay locked away in the city, forever on the island of Manhattan.”
“Oh, Ava,” I say, “you know me. If I’m not working, I don’t feel fulfilled. I’m a bit of a
workaholic.”
“What do you do?” Elena asks.
“I’m a lawyer,” I say, just as a new influx of beauties come walking in the door.
“Excuse me, Ava, Elena. I’ll have to see you beautiful ladies later. Don’t forget to stay for the
fireworks show.”
They look at me wistfully as I walk away, and I know I just shattered both of their hearts, especially
Ava’s. She knows how much money I’m suddenly worth. And that makes me husband material.
The thing is, I’m not interested in that. I don’t want to be loved for my money. Who does?
But I might find one or both of them later for a midnight romp. For now, though, I have to greet my
guests.
People file in from all walks of life, but mostly from the upper echelons of New York society.
“Hi, Ian,” a man says to me.
“Bill, it’s been too long.”
“Listen, I’m really sorry about your father. Maybe we can grab lunch in the city sometime?”
“That’d be great. Call me.”
I walk around the outer edges of the pool where I notice there are a few mermaids inside. The
women are beautiful, and their shimmering tails add to the allure.
The party planners have really gone out of their way to do a good job tonight. There’re mermaids in
the pool, fire dancers, and beautiful women dancing on newly erected platforms.
This is a party my father would’ve been proud of. It’s exotic, and there are beautiful women
everywhere.
There must be at least two hundred people here, and the party’s only just begun. I grab a bottle of
scotch and search out my brothers so that we can make a proper toast to the one-month anniversary of my
dad’s death.
I roam the premises, but I don’t see any of them.
“Ian, honey! You look so handsome.”
“Hi, Priscilla.” I kiss her cheek. She was a friend of my dad’s, and likely a mistress too. “How are
you?”
“I’m doing much better, thank you. I miss your dad so much. We all do.”
“Well, honey, it’s nice to see you. Have fun, alright?”
“Okay, Ian. You’re always so sweet. I’ll see you,” she says and kisses my cheek. And I’m reminded
of just how far my father’s reach extended.
 I can only hope to have such a legacy.
I circle the party and finally go off to the side of the house where I see my brother, Evan, pulling the
skirt down on some woman.
“Hey, man. Been busy?” I interrupt him.
“Tiffany, this is my brother Ian,” he says, looking not at all surprised to see me.
She eyes me like I’m a piece of meat when she’s only just fucked my brother. I look at the pretty
blonde, take her hand, and let my lips brush against her skin.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tiffany.”
We lead off toward the party, and both Evan and I watch Tiffany’s ass as she goes. She’s wearing a
tight red dress, and the outline of her figure is obvious.
“Was she good?” I ask my brother.
“Yeah, she was great. But you know me, I’m always looking for more.”
And just then, we both look up and see a radiant woman in a slinky black dress on the outskirts of
the party.
We stop in our tracks.
We look at each other at the same time.
And then we look back at her.
The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.
Chapter 4

Meg


I’ve been doing my best to stay near the edge of the party.
I don’t exactly belong here.
It may not be obvious from the exterior. I am wearing my lucky dress, after all, but internally I’m
thinking that I don’t belong with these people.
It’s blue-blooded, highbrow people with money everywhere.
At least I’m not working here as the maid. Not for tonight. That’d make me really stand out.
I thank my lucky stars that I got the night off. The prospect of being a maid and having to serve these
people suddenly feels unbearable. I’m going to have to talk to Simon about this and see once again if I can
get out of this humiliating position.
I’ve got my back pressed against the wall, and I’m just trying to go unnoticed as a wallflower and
sip my champagne.
I look up and see at the edge of the party, over toward the lake, two unbelievably hot men staring at
me. They’re tall, chiseled, and making me wet between the thighs. One look is all it takes to have my heart
start to pound in my chest.
I’m not sure who these men are, and though I want to know, the fact is I need to remain
unapproachable.
I’m here to do a job. I’m here to spy. And while I wish that my job was socializing and doing
possibly more with these guys, it’s simply out of the question.
I break from their gaze and duck within a crowd of people to try to go unnoticed. I walk through the
party, through scores of people, and listen to their very bland conversations.
Everybody’s talking about Mr. Belcourt and how he left a fortune to his sons. It’s enough that I have
to hear about this all day from Simon, but now I see that it’s the hot gossip on everybody’s lips.
I make my way toward the opposite side of the pool and sit on a lounge chair so that I can watch the
mermaids as they play in the water. It’s actually the most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen.
I’m trying not to laugh when a sultry voice says behind me, “Are you finding them funny?”
I spin around to see one of the guys that made me so wet. He catches me off guard, but I try to keep
my cool composure.
“Um, hi. No. I mean, I just think...you know...mermaids…” I stumble over my words, not knowing
how to explain the joke which he’s obviously not getting.
“You know, I paid for those mermaids. You don’t think they have a nice touch?”
 Oh my god, I’m starting to realize that I might be speaking to one of my bosses—one of the Belcourt
brothers. How can I have missed this?
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just have never seen, you know, real mermaids before, that’s all,” I say.
He takes a seat on the lounge chair beside me, and I turn to face him. His chiseled face looks even
more handsome by candlelight. I feel so weak in the knees that I lose myself.
And this guy is to be my new boss. How can he ever take me seriously now? He’s just caught me
gawking over his mermaids.
But come on, the man has mermaids.
I’m still trying to suppress my laughter as I say, “Whatever made you decide to plant mermaids in
your pool?”
This makes him smile. And I’m pleased that at least I’ve lightened the moment.
I never dreamed I would have to be spying on someone so handsome. I kind of figured the Belcourt
brothers would be four nerds or something, balding and unattractive. I couldn’t have been more mistaken.
“I’m Evan,” he says as he reaches out his hand.
“Hi, I’m Meg,” I say, placing my palm within his own.
And once we touch, there’s nothing like it. Electricity sparks and pulsates between us.
I know he feels it too because there’s a certain amount of fire in his eyes. He’s looking at me like
he’s hungry...and I’m the treat. I feel uncomfortable under his gaze, but I’m also turned on by it.
He holds my hand for a second too long and then says, “What brings you here, Meg? I’ve never
seen you in this crowd of people before. Did you come with someone?”
I blush what I’m sure is a shade of crimson. I don’t want to tell him the truth. But if I don’t tell him
now, the moment will have to come about later, and then I might look dishonest.
“I...I actually work for you. I’m a maid. Today is my first day. I thought maybe somebody would’ve
told you.”
He looks at me with unbelieving eyes and says, “But you’re too beautiful to be a maid.”
His comment makes me smile, and I feel as though I’ve actually somehow earned his respect.
He doesn’t know that I went to Dartmouth College and that I have a good education under my belt.
He can’t ever know these things about me because I’m here posing as someone I’m not.
The familiar sickening feel of nausea overwhelms me as I try to stomach the fact that I’m here to
betray this beautiful man.
I’m cursing Simon silently in my brain. He failed to mention that the Belcourt brothers were so
freaking hot. I guess he conveniently left that part out.
My ache, my need is spreading between my legs as just being near Evan is enough to make me want
to explode.
I forget Simon and my sinister mission and just focus on him.
And before I think it can’t get any better, the other man who was staring at me approaches us.
 “Hey, brother, I see you’ve made the acquaintance of our mystery guest.”
Evan turns toward him, and they both exchange a look. It’s a look, an unspoken language that I can’t
begin to analyze.
“Ian, this is Meg. Somehow, fate has brought her here, and she works for us. She’s Mrs. Simmon’s
new hire.”
Ian looks at me in astonishment. “You work here? As in, we get to see you every single day?”
He kisses my proffered hand with a darkened gaze.
“I do. I work here,” I say awkwardly.
“That’s wonderful. Just wonderful. Now we can all get to know each other a bit better.”
He looks around for a waiter and steals a bottle of champagne off the tray.
“I had some scotch, but it disappeared,” Ian says. “I’m glad you’re here, Meg, because I wanted to
make a toast to my father, and I think now’s the perfect time.”
He says the words, and as if by magic, fireworks begin going off behind us. They sparkle over the
lake, and for a moment I’m mesmerized by the fact that I’m surrounded by such glorious gods of men.
We’re all just quiet, taking in the fireworks and sipping the bottle of champagne. The whole party is
at a standstill, watching. And it’s all in ode to one man, one Mr. Belcourt, who I’ve never known but
whose reputation lives on.
I sit between his two sons, his legacy, and that nagging guilt of having to betray them ruins the
moment...just a little.
We watch the display in silence, but something palpable is happening between us. I feel an intense
connection growing between not only Evan but Ian as well.
They’re equally hot, but in different ways. Evan is tall, built, and has seductive gray eyes.
Ian is quite the opposite. He’s equally built but has blonde hair that’s slicked back but cuts across
his blue eyes when he’s being casual.
They’re both a sight for sore eyes, and I find myself fantasizing about what it might be like to have
both of them...at once.
My sex life with Simon has left me high and dry for some time. He’s not exactly good in bed, and I
find myself wondering whatever made me stay.
If only I had gotten out some time ago, I’d be free to date these guys. But then again, if Simon never
sent me here, this moment never would’ve happened.
I feel absolutely transfixed by the Belcourt brothers, and I still have two of them to meet, though I
don’t imagine anything can compare to Ian and Evan.
We watch the fireworks, and for once I feel like maybe I can belong somewhere, at least for the
time being.
I feel Evan’s arm come around my shoulder, and with this simple gesture, I feel that something big
is about to begin in my life.
 Just when I think the fireworks and the mansion and the party...and the men can’t be more amazing,
two guys walk up to us. And by their smoldering expressions, I can see that I might’ve been wrong...I
might’ve underestimated those last two brothers.
“What are we missing out on?” one says, taking the bottle of champagne. “Hi, I’m Paul.”
I’m engrossed by his black hair and equally dark eyes.
“Paul? I’m...”
“Meg. I know. We’ve heard about you already.”
I look toward Evan and Ian and realize they’ve been talking about me. It’s not such a bad thing
considering the decadent situation I find myself in.
“And I’m Matt.” He takes my hand, and all I can see are green eyes penetrating into my core.
Fuck.
I think my time here may well be spent drooling over this array of men. I cross my legs and attempt
to offset the moisture that’s pooling within.
I feel nervous butterflies, and my stomach sinks as I realize what I’m in for. There’s no way my
time will be spent here without sampling at least one of these masterful men.
It has to happen, right?
Chapter 5

Meg


I’ve got mud under my fingernails.
Soapy suds are everywhere as I lose control of the hose.
Cleaning is not my thing, and yet I find myself scrubbing out the old sink in the garden house.
There are old pots on the ground, and cobwebs adorn the walls. I swear I saw a mouse, and I just
can’t quite believe I went from living in a posh NYC apartment to this.
At least with Simon, I never had to get a job.
He’s a financial wizard, and thus I never had to work. Instead, I dealt with a daily onslaught of
personal insults and demands.
I scrub the dingy sink out and remind myself of that personal abuse and how I deserve better. Even
having to clean is better than being with Simon. Anything is better than having to deal with him.
This is the mantra I say to myself over and over again as I’ve had to do all variety of domestic
chores around the mansion.
I’ve barely seen the guys as Mrs. Simmons has kept me busy. She’s had me cleaning out the garage,
the cupboards, and the garden house.
At least in here, I have a view of the beautiful grounds. As I scrub, I look out the antiquated
window of the little house and admire the birds that are dipping into the water on the lake.
The closest I ever was to nature in NYC was Central Park, but here it’s everywhere. The grounds
are gorgeous and lush, and they spread out over acres.
The truth is, I don’t mind the work all that much. It helps to keep my mind off Simon and of my truly
dirty task at hand, misleading the men, my new bosses. Also, it’s helped me to get a lay of the mansion so
I know where to look for secrets about the will.
The sooner I get this over with the better.
Simon checks in on me every night, and he forces me to text him about every little thing that
happens. But so far, the only dirt I’ve dug up has been the grime underneath my fingernails.
It’s a far cry from the life I was living in New York City. I went to school for English at an Ivy
League college. I could technically get a job anywhere I want.
And I would do so if I wasn’t so tightly under Simon’s grip.
I’m happy to be away from him and from the constant fighting. The silence of the country is a
welcome relief.
It’s my plan to eventually leave this place, to leave him, and to head for paradise. There has to be a
tropical island somewhere with my name on it. I can just disappear and recreate my life.
I know that if I get the money for Simon, he won’t care if I come or go. That’s how deep our
relationship goes.
That one magical night when I was with all four of the Belcourt brothers watching fireworks seems
like a distant memory now that I’m covered in mud and doing household chores.
What was I thinking to imagine that I can ever be with one of them? I know by the gossip I heard at
the party that they have the reputation of being playboys.
I guess I was just a pretty face that one night to watch the fireworks with. I had it mistaken. There
was no connection.
Anyway, it makes it a lot easier for me to undermine them. I know Mr. Belcourt must’ve kept a copy
of his will somewhere, and that’s what I need to get my hands on. It’ll get Simon off my back and out of
my life.
He doesn’t know that I’m planning on leaving him, but I spend my nights online searching for the
perfect place and the perfect way to find my new identity.
I scrub and I scrub and I scrub, but this damn sink doesn’t seem to want to get clean. It’s about a
hundred years old, and I don’t know what the point is.
Isn’t there a gardener somewhere that should be doing this?
I scrub the sink until my hands are raw. Then I turn my attention toward the rest of it.
The rakes and shovels need putting away. I organize the different seeds and categorize the tools
until the place looks as pristine as possible. Then I sweep it out and am left in a dusty cloud of my own
making.
When I feel that I’ve done my best, that the crumbling house can’t get any cleaner, I go back to the
mansion to see what other work Mrs. Simmons has in store for me.
I wipe my dirty hands on my jeans and walk to the sink for a fresh drink of water. This place is so
spotless that I hate to muck it up with my gardening mess.
Mrs. Simmons comes into the kitchen and interrupts my break. “Are you all done out there, Meg?
Well, that was fast. It only took the morning.”
“Yes, Mrs. Simmons. The garden house is clean. It’s as clean as it can be.”
“That’s a good thing, dear, because I need you to go to the library next. All the wood in there needs
to be polished. And there’s lots of organizing of books and things. I know you’ll be fine. Just ask if you
need assistance. I imagine it’ll take you a couple days to finish. I hope you’re alright with that.”
No one can deny her warm demeanor, but she keeps a tight house. If I didn’t know how to be a maid
before, I’m starting to learn now.
“Yes, Mrs. Simmons. That’ll be no problem. I’ll get started now.”
I take a few grateful sips of water and then go to my room to change into my maid’s outfit. It’s
classic black and white, though not short enough.
 I splash cool water on my face and can’t quite believe that my life of luxury, this beautiful room,
comes with manual labor. My entire body aches from all the cleaning.
I stretch and pull on my uniform, ready for the next big job. And then it occurs to me...the library.
I’m going to be cooped up in the library for the next couple days. I will be alone and will go
through documents and everything. This has got to be where the Belcourt will is stored.
It has to be in there somewhere.
Simon said his mother once saw it, so I know it exists. And now I have the perfect opportunity to
snoop, and nobody will be the wiser.
I’m suddenly more than eager for my next cleaning assignment. I hurry through the corridor and tie
my white, ruffled apron as I do so. If I don’t seize this opportunity and find what I’m looking for, I may
wind up here longer than expected.
The library’s on the second floor. The room itself is two stories high.
I walk in and nobody’s there. There’s a spiral staircase that leads toward the upper level.
I have my duster, and I pretend to clean as I look around the place for any evidence of where secret
documents might be.
I start with the desk—the obvious choice.
I take a seat and go through some books and unkempt paperwork. It must’ve been George Belcourt’s
desk because there are pictures of his kids everywhere.
I take a moment to wipe down the frames of all the guys—the brothers I mistakenly believed were
into me.
It just doesn’t make sense. I’ve never felt electricity or sparks or anything like that with another
human being. And yet I felt something real when I was with them. A connection emanated from all of us...I
thought.
I admonish myself for thinking so and go about my task. But it’s very hard when the handsome faces
of these unattainable guys are right before me.
Each one of them is different from the other, and that’s what’s so appealing. I imagine some woman
is going to be lucky enough to be in their lives, and I feel silly for thinking it could’ve been me.
And just when I’m starting to sulk over the fact, I feel a pair of hands cover my eyes.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he says.
Chapter 6

Matt


She spins around to see me.
She’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen, and I find myself regretting the fact that work has kept
me away from her beautiful face.
She’s absolutely divine, enticing...irresistible.
In truth, I’ve been thinking about her ever since we met at the party. Who could forget that one
magical night watching the fireworks? I’ve never been with a woman before and felt such things, such
sparks.
It’s only the beginning of our love affair, and already it’s great.
Yes, I’m already counting on this being a love affair. There’s no way I’m going to let Meg out of my
life without sleeping with her at least once.
She’d be lucky to have me—all women are. There will be no complaints from her, of that I can
guarantee.
She’s sitting at my dad’s desk, organizing and sorting through some paperwork.
I’ve obviously surprised her because she says, “Matt! What are you doing here? You nearly gave
me a heart attack.”
“It’s nice to see you again, Meg. I’ve missed our little encounter. Are you settling in here at the
mansion?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. “Everything’s going just fine.”
That’s all she gives me. She deflects from my question, and I know she’s not really telling me how
hard a time it’s been here at the mansion.
I can tell by her messy hair and the state of her fingernails that she’s been put to work. Again I
wonder how such a beautiful woman has ended up as a maid.
From the other night, I was able to gather that she’s very smart and enabled. Why does she
purposely demean herself with this kind of work?
“Are you sure everything’s going okay? You look like you’ve been put to work pretty hard,” I say.
She sighs and wipes the dust off her face and says, “Yes. Mrs. Simmons has had a lot of work for
me to do. But hey, that’s what I’m here for, right?”
I look around at what she’s doing in the library. The beautiful carved wood took months for my
father to have completed. The library is one of the staples in the house.
The room is stately, and it makes one want to escape in one of the many books that align the walls.
 But the library has been in somewhat of a mess since father died. People have been going through
his paperwork and everything, trying to sort things out. I imagine Meg is in here cleaning up the mess.
I sit on the edge of the desk and say to her, “This is my father’s desk. He had it imported from Italy.
It’s still so weird to see this room empty. He spent a lot of time in here, working.”
She looks at me like she genuinely cares and says, “I’m really sorry to hear that, Matt. I know it
must be really hard losing your dad. I wish there was something I could do.”
I look at her with a certain amount of awe in my face.
Doesn’t she know how beautiful she is? Doesn’t she know that her mere presence here is helping
everything? Doesn’t she know that she’s been on my mind for the past couple days?
Of course these are all things that I cannot say. I barely know the woman, for God’s sake. And
besides, I don’t do relationships.
After I had my heart broken in high school by this one amazing girl, I’ve never looked back. I don’t
do love; it only brings trouble.
But I do have a certain amount of lust in my life. Lust is the name of the game. Even with Meg, as
beautiful as she is, I can’t see it developing into a relationship.
Because, like I said, I’m just not that guy.
I take the liberty of holding her hand in my own and say, “Meg, just your presence here is lightening
the burden of our grief.”
She gives me a questioning look and says, “How? I’m just the maid, after all.”
I trace the outline of her face with my forefinger and bring it along her chin.
I pull her chin up so she’s looking at me more squarely in the eyes and say, “You’re not just a maid.
You’re more than that. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She blushes, and I’m happy to see her reaction. I love knowing that she feels flushed under my gaze
and admiration. I get off on the power play here.
If I can make her flush, then I can make her do other things.
But she says, “Oh no, Matt. I’m sure you say that to everybody. Those lines won’t work on me.”
She doesn’t know that I’m actually being serious. But I’m not going to correct her either. There’s no
need in getting her hopes up, letting her think that something more will come of this.
It simply can’t.
“So what does Mrs. Simmons have you doing in here?” I ask her as I take in the look of the place.
It’s a total mess, and I feel bad having Meg do it all on her own.
“She has me polishing all the wood and organizing everything,” Meg says.
“All the wood?” I say incredulously. “There’s a lot of wood in here. That’s gonna take you
forever.”
She sighs and says, “I know. Believe me, I know.”
Internally, I think that I’m gonna have to find a way to get Meg out of this job but still be able to stay
at the mansion.
She just shouldn’t be doing manual labor. She looks exhausted. I think Mrs. Simmons has been too
hard on her.
We can hire somebody else. We can hire five other people. I don’t care, as long as Meg is free...to
be with me.
I have my sights set on her, and I’m sure my brothers do as well. I want to be the first one to make
my presence known. I want her to connect with me...and only me.
So I pull her up from her seat on my father’s oversized leather chair. I gently grasp her waist and
take her toward me.
“Why don’t you take a break?” I say, pulling her close.
She tries to back away in protest. “No, Matt, really I shouldn’t. Mrs. Simmons will be mad. We
can’t...you know...here.”
I keep her within my grasp and pull her to me again so that I’m whispering my words against her
lips and she can feel my thick, twelve-inch cock rising for her.
“I said, take a break,” I repeat myself in a more serious tone.
Her eyes widen at my command, and I know that she’s mine already.
She’s probably wet between the legs just thinking of me and how my cock will feel sliding in and
out of her, penetrating her secrets.
She doesn’t protest; she doesn’t even move. I kiss her lips gently at first, and I graze my teeth along
her bottom lip. She moans a little, and I can tell she wants more, so I go in deeply.
I place my big hands around her slim waist and pull her in so our bodies are in line. She feels so
lithe and light under my grasp, but also her pert, perfectly shaped tits are pressing against my chest, and
that makes my cock rock-hard.
She’s a good kisser, and we make out for a very long while. She can’t contain her little cries for
me, and I know that just this is making her ache for even more—for all of me.
If it was up to me, I’d have her bent over one of the tufted leather couches in here, and I’d be
sliding my cock deep within her from behind.
But as it is, I have respect for the girl. We hardly know each other at all, and I want to make sure
when we’re finally together that she’s comfortable and that it’s an unforgettable moment.
I don’t want a quick fuck over the couches. I want an all-around session where I can make sure she
comes at least a few times.
As much as it pains me to do so, I decide to hold back...for now.
This is only the beginning for us. There’s no rush.
I kiss her with fervor, and I take her hand and slide it down along my rippling abs, then to my cock
that’s straining against my pants.
“Feel that, Meg? Do you see how fucking hard you make me?”
 “Yes,” she breathes. “I see.”
“It will happen. But first, I want to know you better.”
The suspense, I know, will kill her. By this moment, I’ll have her fantasizing about me and aching
for it for days to come.
I’ve laid claim to her by this kiss in the library, and it’s a promise of sorts—a promise I plan to
make good on.
Chapter 7

Meg


My next few days at the house are spent in good accord.
Having that moment with Matt has lightened everything.
He’s hotter than ever, and I can’t deny how much I wanted what happened between us to occur. I’ve
wanted Matt since I first laid eyes on him.
It’s early, but I have such a crush on him, and I don’t know what to do. He ticks all my boxes as to
what the most gorgeous, perfect man should be.
He’s ruggedly handsome. That chiseled face comes with scruff and dark, wavy hair that hits just
across his eyes. I love when he runs his hands through it, and I silently wish his fingers were tangled in
my own hair.
While he may look good in a suit, there’s a certain untamed quality about him that makes me hot. I
want to be the one to tame him, or the one with which he can be free. There’s just something about Matt—
something beneath the surface that I need to understand because it’s driving me crazy with internal lust.
As I’m cleaning and going about my business, I keep getting mental images from the other day in the
library.
His full lips and eyes that are forest green like my own. His giant cock. And then I find myself
thinking, No, it can never happen. Don’t be reckless, Meg.
And I don’t know what that’s all about. This connection is very new, and I don’t want to take it too
seriously. What happened may never happen again. I don’t know if there’s a future for a relationship or
anything more.
What I do know is that I’m still stuck cleaning this damn mansion, and boy is it big. I haven’t found
any information for Simon, though my work in the library continues.
I’ve looked through all the places where paperwork might be. I’ve searched the desk and the files.
I’ve even found myself pulling on books, expecting a secret door to appear as if from nowhere.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Obviously, the documents aren’t going to be lying around in
plain sight. I just have to continue my work in looking for it. Something has to pop up sooner or later.
I told Simon about my work in the library and that I thought it was progress from working in other
places. He didn’t care and just chided me for taking so long.
The jerk. I didn’t, however, tell him about Matt. I’ll never tell him about Matt.
Hopefully, I’ll be far away from all of this, especially Simon, before anybody ever finds out about
us. Maybe nobody ever will. Maybe what Matt and I had will be a secret forever, and that makes it all the
more intriguing and mysterious.
Today, the guys have a private chef coming in to prepare a special dinner for them. I’ve become
accustomed to the fact that they like to dine on great food because Mrs. Simmons has sent me to the store
several times to pick up gourmet items.
Tonight, however, will be the first time the other guys have been in the house at the same time since
the party. I don’t know where they’ve been or what they’ve been up to, and it’s obviously not my place to
wonder about it.
But until today, the house has been serenely quiet. When the guys were in and out doing God knows
what, it was basically me and some of the staff doing our work in the gigantic mansion.
Today, however, is different. The guys are all here, and there’s noise and chaos, assistants running
around, and stuff going on. It’s a welcome change, mostly because of the eye candy.
I try to stay in my own lane and push all thoughts of Matt and I being something out of my head. It’s
tempting to think of him as a fantasy guy—someone who’s actually right for me. But I’m aware of his
playboy past, and I know you can’t change people, especially a headstrong alpha male like him.
Besides, I’m in no position to be in a relationship myself. I’m still struggling to get out of a
relationship. Now is not the time to jump in again.
I try to keep to myself and do as much as I can to help the dinner being prepared. Mrs. Simmons has
had me sent out to the florist to pick up a huge arrangement of flowers. I put them on the dining table and
lay out all the flatware and the crystal glasses.
Everything in here screams money. Even the place settings must cost $1,000 apiece. It’s all gold
and diamonds and glitz and glamour. It’s a beautiful house to be in, but I don’t belong here.
It’s tempting to want this kind of lifestyle. It’s very beautiful and otherworldly. But I just will never
understand how someone like Simon can be so obsessed with money that it blinds him to the good things
in life.
I mean, he’s put me, his girlfriend, in this position of being an underhanded maid because he’s so
intent on stealing the fortune.
I know he’s a bad person, and I’m eager to get away. But at the same time, I know myself and that
money is great and all, but it’s definitely not the most important thing in life. At least not to me.
Mrs. Simmons approaches me and says, “Meg, those flowers are absolutely gorgeous. Where did
you find tulips at this time of year?”
“Oh, Mr. Branson, the florist, had these up his sleeve. They’re freshly imported from the
Netherlands. I think they’re pretty. I wanted to get several colors, and I hope you’re okay with that,” I say.
She looks them over and says, “Stunning. Just stunning. Meg, you really do have fine taste.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Simmons,” I say.
I go about my task of helping to arrange the dinner. She sent me down to the wine cellar to pick out
a couple of nice, expensive bottles.
 I do my best to find them. I’m not a wine aficionado by any means, but obviously these guys are, or
Mr. Belcourt certainly was.
The wine room is stocked. It’s got bottles that appear absolutely ancient. There’s a little romantic
table set up down here, and the stone walls make it feel like I’m in a castle.
It’s funny because the wine room alone probably cost more than my entire college tuition, which
I’ve only just barely paid off.
I pick out a couple bottles and bring my selections upstairs. As I reach the top, Evan nearly bumps
into me, and I almost drop and break the expensive wine bottles.
Luckily, I’m able to hold onto them and avoid a totally embarrassing moment.
I haven’t seen Evan since the party, and standing here in front of him is taking my breath away. I
literally don’t know what to say.
“Meg, there you are. I’ve been wondering where you’ve been hiding out,” he says.
“Oh, Mr. Reed, I haven’t been hiding. I’ve just been working,” I say.
“Please, Meg, call me Evan. We’re not very formal around here,” he says.
I look into his sultry gray eyes and wonder how he can be so captivating, equally as enticing as
Matt, I must say.
All the brothers are tall and statuesque. They all appear to have chiseled muscles and a certain
intensity that turns me on.
I know something’s happened with Matt and I should focus solely on that relationship, but standing
here before Evan makes me weak in the knees.
“You know, Meg, we have a private chef coming tonight. You should join us for dinner. It would be
a waste to have him come for just us boys.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Reed, I mean, Evan, that wouldn’t be right. You guys should enjoy your dinner.
Really,” I say.
He takes the bottles of wine from my arms and says, “I insist. You simply have to join us. The meal
will be amazing and decadent, and you deserve it.”
I feel like I’m in an awkward position. What will Mrs. Simmons think if I dine with the guys?
Every part of me wants to do it. I want to take a break from cleaning, most of all, and I would love
to have a hot shower and to dress up.
But I don’t want to jeopardize my job, and so I don’t know what to say to Evan’s request.
“Thank you, Evan, but I’m not sure how Mrs. Simmons would feel about that. She’s my boss, after
all. I probably shouldn’t join you. You guys enjoy your dinner,” I say.
He leans down near me, and it sends a shiver down my spine. Being in close proximity to him like
this makes my heart race and my pulse quicken.
And then he whispers in my ear ever so closely. “Actually, Meg, I’m your boss.”
Chapter 8

Paul


I’ve just come in from New York City.
I had to go back to the city in the interim of our father’s death to take care of some business.
I’m an extremely successful real estate investor and developer. I have several projects going on in
NYC and a few overseas as well.
Right now, I’m in one of the large, sumptuous bedrooms in the house. Father’s mansion never gets
old. It’s home.
Though George Belcourt is not my true father per se, he and I have built an unusually close
relationship over the years. He married my mother, Sylvia, when I was a boy, no more than ten years old.
And even though they divorced shortly after, George remained the most real father I’ve ever known.
I think my brothers and I all thought that he would live forever. He was just that kind of man. So
much life and personality in him.
I strive to be half the man that he was.
To say that a hole has been left in my heart and in our family is an understatement. That’s why I’m
back here, out in the country house. I want to help in whatever way I can.
I know the staff in the town are dismayed by his loss. I’m dismayed too, but I’m dealing with my
grief in my own way—by burying myself in my work as always.
The only light that’s been present this entire month since his death is this new girl named Meg that I
met the other day at the party. I know that she works here, and I’m anxious to find out exactly who she is
and where she came from.
I’ve hardly seen her at the house. I’ve caught a glimpse of her out in the garden here and there, but
for the most part, I’ve been back in the city, and she’s been here. We’ve been kept apart, but that’s all
about to change.
There’s a dinner tonight. A family dinner of sorts.
I’ve taken the liberty of hiring the hottest chef in New York City to come out and cook for us. My
brothers and I have become accustomed to certain standards, especially when it comes to food.
So I’m in my room, trying to get my tie fitted right for dinner, when Evan comes in.
“Hey, brother, you’re back from the city at last,” he says.
“Yes, well, work couldn’t be avoided. I had so much to do. I really shouldn’t even be out here now.
But I’m trying to help get father’s estate settled,” I say.
“Well, I have a surprise for you. You remember Meg, don’t you?” he asks.
 I stop what I’m doing and look at him directly. What’s he getting at?
Of course I remember Meg. Who could forget her?
“I remember her. Doesn’t she work here?” I ask as though I am disinterested.
He slaps me on the back and says, “That’s exactly right. She works here. Only I removed her from
her obligations tonight so that she can join us for dinner. I thought you’d want to know.”
That’s a surprise indeed. Suddenly, my night has taken a turn for the better.
I can imagine myself doing very naughty things to Meg. She’s the most gorgeous woman I think I’ve
ever seen, and she’s been on my mind these past several days.
I’m used to bedding women quickly. When I see something I like, I just go after it.
But with Meg, it’s different. Something about her has made me want to pull back and to wait for a
bit. I haven’t had time to even talk to her since that one magical night watching the fireworks.
“Meg’s coming to dinner, huh? At least we’ll have some stimulating conversation. The girl has a
very solid head on her shoulders,” I say.
“She certainly does,” Evan agrees. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
He leaves my room and I’m thankful for the break. I’ve been thinking about Meg. She’s been at the
back of my mind this entire time.
And now the opportunity to woo her has presented itself.
I have to get in her good graces at dinner and bed her tonight. That’s my plan. Knowing that she’s
this near to me makes me fully understand that I can’t wait another day.
I have to have her in my bed. I have to know what she’s like.
Rarely does a woman intrigue me this much. It’s exciting, and it helps take my mind off father’s
death and of all the work I have to do. Meg is a delightful distraction.
I hurry and finish dressing so that I can make my way to the opulent dining hall where we always
hold these dinners. Once I get there, I’m dismayed to know that she hasn’t shown up yet.
I walk over to the bar and make myself a drink. Perhaps the scotch on my breath will entice Meg
further—entice her all the way to my bed.
My brothers are there. Evan is seated at the head of the table. I don’t know what makes him think he
can take over father’s seat, but it’s fine.
Ian is seated next to him, his blonde hair as coiffed as ever. He and Evan are talking, and I wonder
if they’re both thinking the same thing about Meg is I am.
My brothers and I have always been in competition for women. It’s kind of our thing. I hate to say
we get off on it, but we do.
Each of us likes to know that we’re more manly and full of testosterone than the other. It’s kind of a
game to us—who can sleep with the prettiest woman first. Sometimes we share women, but most of the
time we keep our affairs separate.
My brothers are stiff competition. They are every bit as alpha male as I am. That makes for an
interesting group.
As I scan the room, I see how well put together they are, and it’s apparent that Meg is on
everybody’s mind, not just my own. I don’t blame them. She’s definitely the most stunning thing we’ve
seen in a while, possibly ever.
So let the games begin.
Matt comes up to the bar to talk to me.
“Is that father’s scotch? I’ll have one,” he says.
I smile at him wickedly, knowing that the competition is in full swing before saying, “Only the
best.”
I offer him a glass of ice and pour the smooth brown liquid over it.
“So you know that girl Meg’s gonna be here tonight, right?” I ask him.
“Oh, Meg.” The words slide off his teeth like he’s savoring them. “I had a connection with Meg.”
Jealousy roars through my veins. I am incensed. How did Matt get to her before I did?
Damn my work in the city. I should’ve stayed here.
I should’ve known she was more important than that. I should’ve never waited to claim her.
“What? You guys had sex?” I ask point-blank.
He sips his drink and looks at me. “No. We just kissed. In the library. I made sure that she
understands exactly what kind of a man she’ll be getting with me. Doubtless I’m on her thoughts right
now.”
He seems pretty confident for just a kiss. Now that I know they haven’t slept together, I feel better
about my position. Anybody can get a kiss, not everybody can score.
“Oh, you guys kissed. Sounds exciting,” I say blandly.
He’s just about to argue with me when she walks into the room and all four pairs of our eyes are on
her.
She’s wearing a simple, silky, silver dress that hangs from her body like it’s nothing. Her nipples
are erect, and I can imagine what they look like through the thin fabric.
I find myself licking my lips, thinking sensuously of her. She’s more beautiful than I even remember.
Her auburn hair is cascading in curls over her shoulders, and she looks ethereal.
Evan gets up and approaches her first. “My, my, what do we have here? You look absolutely
dazzling, Meg,” he says, kissing her cheek.
She walks tentatively into the room and eyes each of us separately. I know she remembers the other
night and what that meant to us.
We were all feeling it. There were sparks and connections flying every which way. The question is,
who does she feel that the strongest with?
I determine that it’s my time to make my move. It’s now or never. Either I’m going to get ahead this
night or I’ll fall behind and will never be able to catch up.
 I take the scotch I just poured for myself and walk over to offer it to her.
I kiss her on the cheek and offer her my drink. “For you. Don’t you look lovely? I’ve missed seeing
you, Meg.”
Her eyes lock into mine, and for several seconds, it’s like we’re the only two people in the room.
She takes the glass that’s now covered in condensation up to her lips and drinks deeply from it.
She doesn’t even flinch at the taste of the harsh liquid. She’s got her poker face on, and so do I.
“Hi, Paul, is it?” she asks.
She has some courage to pretend to forget my name. I know she remembers it, and I know she’s just
toying with me. It’s a game that I enjoy but will definitely win at.
I take her hand and kiss her softly, “It’s Paul. Paul Richardson. How could you forget?”
She blushes at my statement, catching her in her lie, and I revel in the moment. Before my brothers
have a chance to interject themselves, I offer her a chair and quickly take the seat next to hers.
Now I have her ear for the rest of the night. Of that you can be sure.
My brothers join us around the table, and we all make a toast.
Matt does the honors, and he says, “In memory of our father and of all the family dinners we’ve had
at this table together. And also to our new guest, Meg. May she feel as welcome as ever.”
Meg delights in the attention, but she also seems like she feels awkward and uncomfortable. I don’t
doubt as to why. My brothers and I are a lot to take, especially for one woman.
There’s a lot of testosterone flowing in this room, and she’s the only feminine energy for us to focus
on. She’s definitely worth it. She gets more beautiful by the second.
Dinner is served, and it’s exquisite. My brothers and I chat with Meg, each of us sizing each other
up, trying to determine who has the best chance of winning her heart, at least for the evening.
“So, Meg,” Ian is saying, “Where did you attend school?”
“Me? Oh, I went to Dartmouth College. I had always wanted to go there ever since high school, and
I got in, so that’s the story with that.”
She doesn’t seem to like being in the spotlight. And I don’t blame her. With four masculine, carnal
energies coming at her, it must be a lot to deal with.
“Isn’t that interesting,” I say. “Each of us has gone to an Ivy League school. I personally attended
Harvard, Ian went to Yale, and Matt and Evan both went to Princeton.”
I know my brothers and I are all wondering how it came to be that Meg went to Dartmouth and yet
she’s serving us as a maid.
It’s a question I put out of my mind as I listen in to what Meg is saying about her life.
“I grew up in California and have always wanted to come to the East Coast. So I came to New
York City directly after school. I worked as an intern for a while, and then I developed a relationship, and
that kind of took up all my time. We’re breaking up, broken up, I mean. We’re done with pretty much.”
We’re all ears at the mention of a boyfriend. There better not be a boyfriend in the picture with her.
I’m happy to hear that they’re broken up or are on their way to getting there.
Whatever their status is, I don’t care. I will have Meg as my own.
“This veal is exemplary,” Matt says.
“It is, isn’t it?” I say privately to Meg over her shoulder.
She looks at me with her dark-green eyes, and for a moment our expressions are the same.
We both have lust on our lips. We both want each other. The sexual tension between us is obvious.
Sitting next to her was the best idea I’ve had in a long time. It means that I own her for the night. I
fully intend to take this back to my bedroom.
After we’ve eaten, my brothers move the party to the den where we go after dinner to have drinks.
Instead of following, I take Meg’s arm and give her private offer.
“Meg, would you like to see the view from my balcony? It’s an absolutely beautiful sight this time
of night. It’s better than any room in the house.”
She looks as though for a moment she doesn’t know what to do. Should she follow my brothers?
Surely they’re expecting us.
But I take her arm and smoothly guide her in the direction of my bedroom. The connection between
us is real, and it’s palpable. I know she needs to get off as badly as I do.
And luckily for her, I plan on making her come several times over into the night.
I grab the bottle of scotch, and we escape down the corridor to my quarters. I know this will make
my brothers rage, but I don’t care.
I have one thing on my mind this evening.
Meg.
Chapter 9

Meg


Arm in arm, Paul and I walk through the massive home. The vaulted ceilings are still eye-catching
in particular. It might take me more than a few visits to get used to them.
The house smells of cedar and patchouli—two scents that give an aged mansion its character. I
haven’t spent much time up here yet, but I’m enjoying taking in all the aspects of the house’s ambience.
Paul’s arm around mine is snug and insistent. His firm grip tells me that he’s constantly seeking my
approval on the house during our little tour.
And if I’m being honest, I’m happy to give it to him. He’s a very charming and handsome man, with
his jet-black hair and mysteriously dark eyes.
His features are a striking contrast to his stepbrothers’, and I think that makes him all the more
intriguing.
I freely admit I’m a little jarred by his incessant need to have me all to himself. As if I didn’t
already see the competition among the siblings.
His brothers watch my every move, and they undoubtedly saw Paul’s eyes on me tonight. They
might’ve felt the sexual tension between the two of us, too—but I have that with all of the brothers
anyway.
I’m curious as to whether or not he’ll flaunt himself around the house for winning my attention for
the evening. Or will he pretend that our private tour never happened?
I don’t know if he’ll regret it, though, once his brothers realize we haven’t joined their post-dinner
leisure.
As I ponder these questions in my mind, which are multiplying by the second, Paul stops in front of
his bedroom door.
He looks over his shoulder at me as he turns the handle, offering me a charming grin. A man in real
estate has to have some charisma on his level, after all.
I play the game, pretending his beauty and seductive tactics have no effect on me. I want to see
exactly what he’s driving at.
Paul pushes the door open to reveal a dimly lit room much larger than my own. It’s filled with
antique cherry wood furniture, from the cabinets to the bed.
The walls are decorated tastefully with book shelves, medieval paintings, and deep red curtains
hanging from the nearly floor-to-ceiling windows.
I’m impressed. Generally, men have no sense of taste in their decor, but it would appear that he has
spent a great deal of time in this room despite his travels, enough that he still calls it home.
I scan the walls until my eyes are drawn to the room’s focal point: the balcony doors, which are
glass-paned. They allow a gorgeous stream of natural light into the room. I gravitate toward them, letting
go of Paul’s arm.
I bring myself to the doors, turn the knobs, and pull them open. A gust of wind greets the bare skin
of my face, and I squint for a moment, surprised by the cool air.
When I regain my bearings, I look out ahead of me to see a breathtaking view. The sun is setting,
and the wind is rustling the leaves on the trees. There’s a hint of smoke permeating the air from the
fireplace of the estate.
“Told you,” I hear from behind me.
Paul’s low voice startles me. I was so enraptured by the picture-perfect view of nature surrounding
his home that I forgot all about him.
“You certainly did,” I admit. “I’ll have to give you credit. You’ve earned this bragging right.”
“This bragging right? You mean I don’t deserve them all?” he counters, a grin playing on his lips.
“I can’t check all of your real estate successes, but I can confirm that this is the most beautiful view
I’ve ever seen,” I say.
“Well, I once thought this sunset was the most beautiful thing in the world, but I was wrong.” Paul
stares into my eyes thoughtfully. “You, Meg, are the most breathtaking view I’ve ever seen.”
Before I can even process his words, I’m swept into his arms. His strong embrace has me locked
against him, and I’m instantly wet from all the excitement.
Paul brings his face close to mine. So close that I can feel his breath against my skin. So close that I
know what I want to happen.
I lean my head back, tilt my chin upward, and close my eyes. I wait patiently for his lips to meet
mine and for us to share a moment of passion.
Much to my surprise, rather than his kiss, I’m greeted by his fingertips. They first caress my temple
and run through my hair to push a lock behind my ear.
The touch of his hand sends a shiver down my spine and goosebumps throughout my body. I lift my
eyelids, and I find his eyes staring into my own. His face is full of both passion and restraint.
“Tell me what you want, Meg,” he demands. “What do you want right now, more than anything
else?” He waits for my response, not moving a muscle until I answer.
I give in.
“I want you, Paul. I want you more than anything right now,” I tell him.
He pulls me even tighter against his body and kisses me. He slides his free hand up my spine and to
the back of my head. He crushes our lips together.
The kiss is forced but wanted. So controlled yet so passionate. He’s incomparably the most
suspenseful—and at the same time most predictable—man I’ve ever met.
 He pulls away, gently releasing me. My eyes widen, and I breathe in hard, trying to process the
moment we just shared.
Before I’m able to get a word out, Paul guides my body to the balustrade. Our eyes are locked on
each other as he plants me firmly against the railing.
The sun is fading, and darkness descends. It’s evening now, and somehow, that seems fitting for
what Paul’s about to show me.
He slowly moves his face to my neck and leaves gentle kisses around it before making his way
down my collarbone. He traces down my chest and stomach with his nose, then greets me with his lips
again, flipping up my dress and kissing my lower abdomen.
I suck in a breath. Is this really happening?
His fingers loop around my satin panties, and he slides them down slowly, revealing my wet pussy
and exposing it to the fresh air that surrounds us.
The air feels good, but it does nothing to fan the flames of my desire.
He guides my underwear off me, lifting one foot at a time to remove it.
I’m trembling with excitement and anticipation. Paul brings his face to my pussy and lets out a deep
breath on it, the hot air stimulating me, making my little clit swell and my pussy lips ache.
I reach a hand out to stroke his hair and to bring him to me, hungry for attention. Before my fingers
even meet his scalp, his grip surrounds my wrist, and he holds my hand against the railing.
I try to pull away, but he won’t let me.
As I gasp from his interception, he catches me off guard even more by flicking his tongue against
my pussy lips, taking in the taste of my juices. He laps at it again, and my muscles all tighten and relax.
I grip the railing behind me tight as he brings his mouth to my clit and starts to suck and flick his
tongue against it. I breathe deeply, trying my best not to cause a scene with us being partially outdoors.
I start moaning lightly, but it’s audible enough for him to hear. He pulls his mouth off me and puts
his fingers against my clit as he comes up from under my dress.
“Don’t come until I say so,” he commands.
He seals his order with a passionate kiss, inviting my tongue to taste my own pussy.
He spins me around and leans my torso over the balcony. I look down at the pool and at the
grounds, but everything’s spinning. He plunges his fingers deep into my pussy and grinds them against my
G-spot.
I let out a moan, a cry, a whimper.
I dig my nails into the concrete railing and grit my teeth, moaning and whimpering under my breath.
My tits bounce as his fingers pump hard into my pussy.
I’m so on edge from his touch, and I want nothing more than to let myself come all over, but I want
so badly to follow his command.
Just when I feel like I can’t hold on any longer, he says it.
 “Come for me, Meg.”
And I gush right there. My entire body relaxes, and I come all over his fingers and let out long,
intense moans as I climax.
He pulls me inside with him right as I catch my breath. Before I can say a word, he slides his
fingers into my mouth, cleaning them.
I swish my own cum around in my mouth and swallow it down while my eyes meet his. My heart is
racing, and my head is spinning.
“Good girl,” he comments.
But my head continues to spin.
Chapter 10

Paul


Such vulnerability.
Such sensitivity.
I saw the potential in this woman. I saw it when I first laid eyes on her, and I saw it when we
conversed over dinner. She’s truly a perfect, submissive woman, and I’m honestly impressed.
A woman that knows how to let go and have me take over is what really gets my gears turning, my
blood pumping—and fuck if it’s not pumping right now.
When you’re negotiating a deal in real estate, the goal is to get the other party to submit to you. And
Meg is the finest piece of real estate I’ve had the pleasure to take on.
She’s an absolute knockout, and she’s well aware of her place in her dynamic with me. Having her
right here with me, sucking her own cum off my fingers, is so fucking arousing.
It’s taking all the self-control I have not to take her pussy with my hard, thick cock right now. But
she needs to wait. She needs to earn it.
Meg is a giver, naturally, and I want her to really want it first. I can see it in her eyes and in her
actions that she’s the type to please, and I’ll be damned if I’m not the one to give her the opportunity.
I place my palm on her cheek, and she instantly shudders at my touch.
That’s right, sweetheart. Just give in and let me take control.
I hold her by the back of her neck as I continue to gaze directly into her eyes. She’s trembling ever
so slightly, hoping I don’t notice her squirming at my touch.
She’s so flustered with passion and anticipation. I couldn’t paint a more perfect picture of a girl
wanting something so badly if I tried.
She’s willing and ready to do anything to please me, especially if it means wetting my cock with
her tight little slit.
I gently massage the back of her neck, and she finally relaxes her muscles, letting my touch take
over her and please her.
She bites her lip and leans her head back for me, and I can almost hear her heart thrashing in her
chest.
I can’t hold it anymore. I move my hand over her shoulder and force her down slowly. She follows
my lead well, getting down on her knees without a fight. She wants my cock in her mouth as badly as I do.
Once she’s on the floor, we both stop moving just for a moment, gauging what the other will do. She
waits patiently for an order. I’m only too happy to give her one.
 “Touch yourself, Meg. I want you to rub your clit,” I command.
She flips her dress up and reveals her little pussy before she slides her hand down to play with
herself.
As she circles her clit with her fingers, I unzip my pants and pull out my throbbing cock. She looks
at it, marvelling at the size.
Her eyes widen, and I see her gulp. Her desire for my cock entertains me, and I decide to let her
have a taste.
“Suck,” I order.
Without hesitation, she wraps her lips around my cock, taking it in hungrily.
I wasn’t even expecting her to get on it so quickly. I was right—she’s incredibly hungry for it. She
swirls her tongue around on it, getting as much of it coated in her spit as she can.
She moans and breathes heavily as her mouth goes up and down my cock. Then, she grips the base
of my cock with one hand.
Her mouth is spectacular. If she keeps it up, I’m going to come on her, and I’m not ready to do that
yet. I’m having too much fun to let it all end.
Part of me just wants to fuck her face right now and let her know how much of a slut I want her to
be. I want to use her talented mouth as my personal fuck hole.
I’m going to go to fucking town on her.
But she needs the teasing. She needs to feel tempted. She enjoys every bit of the suspense I give her.
The way she’s furiously thrusting her fingers inside her tells me everything I need to know.
“Swallow my cock, Meg,” I demand. “I want the whole thing in your slutty little throat.”
Meg pauses and pulls her mouth off my cock slowly and hesitantly.
She stammers, “I-I don’t know if I can…”
Her words are quiet, and the hesitation comes through in her shaky admission.
“Why not?” I ask softly, my finger tracing her jaw line and holding her chin up.
“I...I have an awful gag reflex. I just don’t think I can,” she admits again, very softly.
She’s embarrassed by it.
Of all the women I’ve fucked—of all the mouths I’ve had on my cock—not one of them could deep
throat without a little prompting.
“Swallow. My. Cock,” I command.
She sighs and takes it back into her mouth. She breathes deeply through her nose.
Once my cock is against the back of her throat, she lets out her breath and swallows hard, sliding
my cock into her throat.
She moans instantly and gasps—or, well, tries to. I chuckle to myself and run my fingers through her
hair.
“Silly girl, I knew you could do it. You just need to listen to me.”
 The feel of her throat around my cock is fucking phenomenal. I’m stimulated so much by the shift in
sensations that my cock is pulsing and ready to burst.
This is it. It’s time to show her. I grab her head and hold it in place as I start thrusting against her
mouth.
She lets out whimpers and moans, and I know that she’s about to come, too.
“Wait, Meg. Not yet,” I instruct.
She lets out a loud, long sigh—or, well, she tries.
Women are so fucking adorable when they’re pouting for me. Especially when my cock muffles
their expressions.
After a few more thrusts, I finally give her permission.
“Come. Now,” I exclaim as I continue fucking her throat.
Her nails dig into my thigh, and I hear her deep moans, which are only softened by my cock stuffed
in her face.
Her fingers eventually release my thigh as her orgasm finishes. Meanwhile, my climax has been
building up for a while now, and I’m ready to come for her.
I grab her hair, and she relaxes, letting me take over.
Knowing I have full control of her, I shoot loads of cum directly into her throat. She clenches her
fists and rests them against my legs.
She’s taking my cum like a fucking champ, swallowing every bit down just like a good girl.
When my cock finishes loading cum into her mouth, I slowly pull it out. I relax my hold on her head,
combing my fingers through her hair.
I stare down at this beautiful woman, who just came twice in one sitting. This obedient cock-hungry
slut. This amazing little slice of ass.
As I admire her, I realize something—something very important. She’s not yet done.
My cock grows hard again, thinking about what’s to come. I need to fuck her and show her what
she’s really in for.
Chapter 11

Meg


The taste of Paul’s massive cock makes me shudder with intrigue, desire, and lust.
I’ve wanted him so badly—and now my dreams are coming true.
Paul’s cock slides from my mouth, leaving tingling sensations on my lips from all the friction. I take
my fingers and wipe the corners of my mouth before licking them clean, capturing and treasuring any cum
that might’ve been left behind.
I look up at Paul towering over me and smile. I’m giddy down here on my knees, having just gotten
this smart and sexy man off with just my mouth.
His hand meets my cheek, a motion I’m becoming familiar with, and one that instantly brings
goosebumps to the surface of my skin. I close my eyes and enjoy his caress. His touch is so inexplicably
caring and reassuring.
As he gazes down to my face, he breaks the silence.
“My God, Meg,” he starts. “You’re truly the most exquisite woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
His words are empowering and incredibly flattering. I’m blushing, my cheeks growing warm and
rosy, while his hand’s still pressed against my skin.
“Thank you for the compliment. It’s honestly very well appreciated,” I admit. “You’re an incredibly
dashing fellow yourself, you know.”
“I do know. And admitting your stunning beauty doesn’t require a thank you,” he says.
“Excuse me?” I say. “I don’t quite understand what you mean,” I continue.
“Your beauty isn’t only a compliment, Meg. It’s a fact,” he explains. “The first moment I laid eyes
on you, I knew I needed to have you for myself.”
“Oh, did you?” I ask. “And what about me is so special aside from the pretty face?”
“It’s more than your face, love. It’s your demeanor. And your aura. I’m drawn to you, Meg,” he
states.
Paul extends his arm down and offers an open hand. I place my fingers against his palm, and he
helps raise me to my feet, like a gentleman would.
I peer down momentarily and brush the fabric of my dress. I make a quick mental note that while
I’m in this house, I need to dust this room. Everything is just a touch more gray than it needs to be.
As I straighten myself out, now standing tall, I look forward to seeing Paul study me. I smile at him
and tuck my hair behind my ear. He brings a hand to my shoulder.
His touch just does something to me everytime. He makes my hair stand on end. He makes my heart
skip a beat. And he makes my pussy ache for more of him.
His hand creeps onto my back, and he pinches the zipper of my dress. My heart beats faster and
faster as he pulls it down and guides my arms from my dress.
Once both arms are out, the dress slips down from my chest, revealing my perky breasts and my
hard nipples. The dress falls to the floor. I reach down and fold it gently, and I toss it to the side, leaving
only my completely naked body in Paul’s view.
He steps back, a finger against his lips, and his body reserved. He’s taking in every curve and
every inch, and I can see on his face that he’s flabbergasted.
My heart’s ready to jump out of my chest, just waiting for anything to happen. He’s teasing me and
leaving me in suspense purposely, and it’s driving me wild. But I show restraint and hold him in my gaze
as I lean back against his bed.
Paul walks towards me slowly, keeping my eyes in his own gaze, and he places a hand on my hip.
He cups my side and runs his hand up and down my curve, all the way from my hip bone to my breast.
My pussy is so wet and primed for his perfect cock as he traces my shape. I’m practically
squirming under his hand, and my fingers are curling into his bedding. His hands come over my tits, and
he grazes his palms over my hard nipples before firmly groping them and massaging them, his thumbs
running under their natural shape.
I tilt my head back, and his mouth greets my neck with gentle, sensual kisses. I moan gently,
enjoying every moment of him stimulating my body. He grabs my waist and lifts me effortlessly to the
middle of his bed. He lays my head against his pillows.
He remains at the foot of the mattress, admiring me like I’m a prize he’s won.
I beckon him to join me with my sultry eyes. He climbs onto the bed, first extending his arms on the
bed and then pulling his legs up so he’s on all fours over me.
He kisses my belly button and awakens a million butterflies within my stomach. My toes curl, and
my body twitches as his lips travel up my body. His face meets with mine, and we share a passionate kiss,
our lips pushed hard against each other, our tongues traveling between our mouths.
He reaches for my wrists, brings my arms over my head, and holds them down with his hands.
Feeling the restraint, relinquishing all control, and just letting Paul do his thing is so exhilarating and
thrilling. I stretch my hips upward, grazing my clit with his hard cock.
He breaks our kiss and looks down at me sternly.
“Not yet.”
I pout to myself for a moment. There’s nothing more I want right now than for him to bury his cock
inside me and fuck me so hard I can’t walk straight.
He props himself up, his knees tucked under him and his cock resting right over my pussy. He asks
me a question as if he’s been reading my mind.
“Tell me what you want now, Meg.”
 “I want your cock in me,” I quickly answer.
He waits.
“Please, sir. Fuck me.”
A smile widens across his face. With one swift motion of his hips, his cock is waiting and ready,
positioned at the entrance of my pussy. He slowly pushes his cock inside.
I feel every inch of him travel inside of my tight, wet cunt. The tip brushes hard against my G-spot
and continues upward, landing him right at my cervix.
I let out a long, deep moan as he slowly pulls himself out. And back in, this time just a little faster.
Every pump is more intense than the last.
Paul’s face is full of concentration and full of lustful passion as he plows into me. Watching him so
determined to impress me and satisfy me is as amazing as the sex itself.
As he thrusts in and out of me, each movement makes his antique bed frame squeak under us. The
faster he goes, the harder it squeaks, and the more I suspect we have an unintentional audience.
As much as I care about what this household thinks of me, I can’t help but feel the overwhelming
need to continue our fucking in an uninhibited, no holds barred manner.
As I grab the headboard tight, my fingers curled around the back, Paul takes my legs and lifts them
to his shoulders. He’s drilling me as deep as he possibly can, his cock pushing against my cervix and my
G-spot unrelentingly.
I moan loudly and wildly, nearly shouting an announcement through the entire house that I’m going
to come from Paul’s huge cock.
“Do you want to come now?” he asks me as he thrusts his cock in my pussy over and over.
“Yes. God, yes. Please let me come, sir,” I answer immediately.
He smiles at me and nods his head. With that signal, I relax the muscles in my pussy, gushing my
cum all over his cock and squirting all over his bed. I whimper as my fluids flow out of me in my intense,
incredible orgasm.
Just as I control my breathing, my heart rate slows back to normal. I feel Paul’s cock pulsing in my
pussy. His breathing is heavy, and I see beads of sweat rolling from his forehead.
“I’m coming!” he announces as his hips flex forward, forcing his cock deep inside me.
He holds it there as his cum shoots hard and hot into my pussy. He fills me so much that it starts
spilling back out of me, and when he pulls out of my cunt, it just pools out onto his mattress with my own
cum.
I rest my head against his pillow and simmer myself down. I look forward and see him on his knees
in front of me.
He’s calm and relaxed and looks me right in the face.
“Good girl,” he comments again.
I grin and peer over to the side and see the open door for the balcony, taking a moment to reflect
and realizing my panties are still out on the ledge. I stretch and sit up.
Slowly, I prepare my dress and step into it.
“Can you zip me?” I ask Paul.
“Of course, doll,” he says. As he pulls the zipper back to the top, his arms wrap around me from
behind, and he kisses my cheek. “Thank you,” he whispers into my ear.
Chapter 12

Evan


I wake up early just as I always do, and I’m able to see the sun breaking out over the horizon. It’s
my favorite time of the day; when everything’s quiet, and all you can hear are the sounds of the country.
I’ve been coming here my entire life. Ever since my mother, Marilyn, married my father, George
Belcourt, this has been my home. I’ve spent countless summers between here and in boarding school. I
came home for the holidays even when I was in college.
George Belcourt made this my home. He accepted me into his arms and into his family, and I’ve
never thought about it since. He’s the only father I’ve ever known.
This morning, as I look out upon the grassy gardens and the expanse of beautifully maintained
grounds that circle the mansion, I see Meg, my ethereal angel, walking in the early morning air.
I just watch her for a long time while taking in her beauty. She’s walking in some kind of a short
nightgown. Her brown curls are gliding down her back.
She must be an early morning person like myself.
And yet in this moment, I’m reminded that my brother Paul stole her from me last night. For as much
of a family as George Belcourt has built around him, there’s this ever-present competition with my
brothers. We always go for the same girl—the prettiest girl—in the room.
While none of us are relationship-people, it’s important for me to know that I have the upper hand
on my brother. So I watch Meg with a certain amount of lust, desire, and jealousy—it’s all mixed into one.
I want her so goddamn bad. I never should’ve waited. I never should’ve hesitated. I should’ve gone
for her first.
But Meg evokes this sense of vulnerability and sensitivity that I want to respect. She deserves the
world.
For some reason, I didn’t want to be a one night stand for her. I wanted more. I wanted to let her
know that I care about her, and the only way to do that was to hold back for a while.
My brother Paul gave no notice of going after her last night. He’s barely officially met her, and
she’s already been to his bedroom. It makes me fume with envy. She walks around the grounds, and I
wonder if her pussy’s feeling freshly fucked by him or what.
Damn, how I wish it had been me.
My brothers and I might be in competition for the same woman all the time, but we normally don’t
share. Not one at a time anyway.
I’m determined to have Meg, even if Paul’s already been inside of her.
 It doesn’t mean anything—it doesn’t mean that he’s won the game.
I still have a shot. She’s barely gotten to know me and my charms. I’m sure when she does, I’ll be
the brother that she chooses to be with.
I pull myself away from the window and make myself an espresso. My suite has all the amenities,
including an espresso center.
I make it a double, and I make it strong. I need it for this morning. My mind’s racing with thoughts
of spite and rivalry.
The espresso machine pumps out the creamy dark liquid, and I take it to the window in a little cup
to enjoy the view of Meg. My libido’s in overdrive, even this early in the morning. I have a hunger and a
longing for her that’ll only be satisfied once I have her on her knees, begging for my cock.
I decide it’s time for a grand gesture. The chef is still here from last night. I’m going to get him on
the phone and to plan a little something for Meg that’ll surprise and delight her.
I call the kitchen.
“Hi, is Chef Bartholomew still in? Oh good, he’s already up. Please, can you inform him that I’d
like to talk to him? Thanks.”
I wait for the chef to get on the line. Finally, he does.
“Yes, may I help you?”
“Hi sir, it’s Evan. Listen, I’d like you to be in on a little surprise I have planned for the woman we
dined with last night. Her name’s Meg. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to set up a little breakfast in the
gardens outside. You know, something simple. Farm-to-table, and yet also elegant.”
“Okay,” he says in his European accent. “I have the perfect idea for you. Don’t you worry about a
thing. I’ll set up everything.”
“Great, that’s perfect. Thank you, Bartholomew.”
I’m so glad he’s on board. He’s the talk of the town in New York City, and we’re lucky to have him
here. Now, he’s going to plan a special private breakfast between Meg and me.
This will be my opportunity to get to know her and to start building up a relationship.
I decide that I better call Mrs. Simmons just to make sure everything is set up in accordance to my
plans.
I call her direct line.
“Mrs. Simmons. Hi, it’s Evan. I’d like you to set up a little romantic table in garden number seven.
I’m going to surprise Meg with breakfast, so I want everything to be beautiful. Flowers, candles, and that
antique teapot my father has hidden away somewhere.”
“Yes, Mr. Reed. I’ll get that done immediately. That’s no trouble at all. Just give me about 15
minutes.”
“Okay, Mrs. Simmons. Thank you very much.”
I have all the pieces in play to surprise Meg. Hopefully, it’ll brighten her day, and hopefully, I’ll get
to spend quality time with her, alone.
I take a quick shower and then put on the best early morning casual outfit I can think of. I know how
to dress for the country. It’s one of my favorite things to dress for.
Fuck Paul. Fuck the fact that he stole her away from me. Whatever he has with her doesn’t matter
because my connection’s gonna be stronger.
That’s what I tell myself as I make my way through the mansion that’s lazily waking up.
I take the side door outside and wander around to the place where Meg was. She’s there, admiring
the greenery and the beauty of nature. I sneak up behind her.
She truly looks like an angel, and I’m going to get to spend the morning with her like that, in her
see-through nightgown.
I’m so quiet that she doesn’t hear me at all.
I slip my hands around her waist and say, “Good morning.”
Chapter 13

Meg


I feel large hands come around my waist, and I’m startled. But I recognize that deep voice...it’s
Evan.
I turn around in his arms so that we’re face-to-face.
“And just what are you doing here?” I tease.
“Can’t I come say hello to my favorite girl?” he says.
Seeing him like this, directly in front of me, causes a flurry of butterflies to go off in my stomach. I
haven’t even had breakfast yet. Evan looks as handsome as ever, perfectly dressed for this crisp, cool
country morning.
“I just wasn’t expecting to see you, that’s all.”
“Well, I’m here now. Won’t you walk with me?” he asks.
I take his proffered arm, and we walk around the maze of greenery.
I like to get up early in the morning. I like the solace that comes with this time of day. I like to be up
before anybody else, so that I have a few precious moments to myself.
Of course, I’m not at all upset that Evan has interrupted this. It’s a pleasant surprise. I’ve been
wanting to talk to him for a while now.
I saw him at the party, and he invited me to dinner last night. But aside from that, we haven’t had
much interaction. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about him.
He’s been on my mind almost constantly. I’ve been wondering what it is about me that he doesn’t
like or appreciate because he hasn’t approached me like a couple of the other guys have.
Both Matt and Paul have made their intentions known, but it seems like Ian and Evan are either
taking their time. Or I’m just not the girl for them. But then, Evan is here now, and I choose to focus on
that.
I look at his handsome profile against the morning light and think how lucky I am to be in this
position. I’m living in the most gorgeous mansion with four of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen in
my life. My conundrum inside is that I have a thing for all of them, not just one.
But for now, it’s only Evan on my mind, because he’s come and found me.
“How was your night?” he asks.
I freeze at his question and refuse to take another step. What is he implying? He must’ve known that
I went off with Paul.
“Why are you asking me that, Evan? You know I was with your brother. What are you trying to get
out of me?” I say, almost furiously.
He takes me in his arms and looks down at me. His gray eyes darken as he says, “It’s okay. Meg. I
don’t care that you were with my brother. That means nothing to our relationship. Besides, my brother and
I…are used to sharing, as long as one of us wins in the end.”
His words soothe me a little bit and so does the strength of his arms. I decide not to be mad. He’s
evidently unfazed by the fact that I was with Paul last night.
Oh, glorious Paul.
It was quite a night.
I realize, as my thoughts begin to stray into territory that doesn’t include Evan, that I need to
categorize my time with these guys. Right now, I’m with Evan, and there’s no use thinking about
Paul...hmm, Paul...he was amazing.
I’m freshly fucked and sore from last night. I try to put all thoughts of his rippling abs and giant
cock out of my mind, so that I can focus on Evan. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t relish the feeling
between my legs, the feeling of where Paul was.
I walk with Evan a little ways. We come upon a sequestered spot in the gardens, where a table is
magically lit with candles. There are fresh roses, a teapot, and the most gorgeous looking breakfast I’ve
ever seen.
I look up at him, and he smiles.
“This is you? You did this for me?” I say incredulously.
“I saw you walking out here alone. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from you. I wanted to do
something special, so that we had quality time together. I had the chef prepare this gorgeous breakfast, and
it’s all for you.”
I am aghast. No one has ever done something so meaningful for me.
Certainly, Simon never went out of his way to make me feel very special. What was I doing with
him for so long anyway?
With Evan’s one grand gesture, I realize what I’ve been missing out on in a man. I’ve really been
selling myself short by staying with Simon. I know now from having sex with Paul last night that Simon is
sorely lacking in the sex department.
And between Matt and Evan, I’m starting to know what desire and romance really feel like.
He pulls out a chair for me, and I sit down, suddenly realizing that I’m still in my little nightgown.
At least it’s cute. It’s made of white lace, and it’s my favorite one.
I packed only my favorite things for this journey to the mansion, because secretly, in the back of my
mind, I knew that I might be making my escape when everything plays out at the end.
I’ve known for a long time that I’m going to leave Simon. I just needed a plan—and now I have
one.
Evan is pouring me some hot tea, and I bemoan the fact that I need to ask him delicately about his
father’s inheritance. I’ve gotten nowhere in terms of finding the will, and I know Simon is blowing up my
phone—probably even as we speak—for information.
“So, Evan, your father really left you all of this?” I ask, hating myself.
His eyes narrow at the talk of money, but he says, “Yes, this and several developments in the city
and also his entire fortune. I guess you can say we’re a lucky family. But, Meg, you must know that I’ve
made my own money for my entire life. I’m a very shrewd financial advisor when I’m not out here playing
hooky in the country.”
“Oh, really? Can you advise me?” I tease him.
He looks at me darkly and says, “I can’t only advise you, Meg, but I can show you a few things, too.
Let me just be frank here. You’ve never been with a man like me. This is something I can guarantee, and
it’ll be well worth your time.”
I look to him in pure shock at his blatant conversation.
“This is no talk for brunch,” I scold him flirtatiously, because I don’t know what else to say.
He reaches across the table and places his hand on top of my own. The gesture makes me shiver
with desire and passion. There’s something about Evan that has captivated me from the beginning. He’s
been very forthright with me, and I appreciate the fact that he’s willing to get to know me before we fuck.
He’s a gentleman. What can I say?
“Meg,” he says, imploring into my eyes. “I want you so bad. I’m just going to say it. And I think you
should know that I have certain talents that my brothers don’t have.”
He takes my hand underneath the tiny little table that’s meant for a garden. Beneath the long
tablecloth I feel his giant, throbbing cock underneath his pants, and I’m suddenly made aware of what
exactly he’s talking about.
I suck in my breath and try to tame the warmth that’s taking over my body.
Not here. Not now. Obviously, we can’t have sex in the garden where everyone can see us.
But one thing’s for sure, I want Evan now more than ever. Not only is he kind, chivalrous, and
handsome, but also, he’s got the largest shaft I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I’m eager to bend down
beneath the table and start sucking him, but I hold back.
Best to let him make the first move.
We make eyes at each other, and it’s understood that at some point, we’ll be fucking. And all I can
think about is how that large cock will feel, sliding in and out of my little wet pussy.
I cross my legs to keep the wetness under control and from dripping down my leg. That’s how bad I
want Evan. And as I stare into his gorgeous, smoldering eyes, I can think of nothing else than of how it
will feel to be with him.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asks.
I nod my head yes, because suddenly I find there’s a lump in my throat.
And just as I’m feeling his hardness underneath the table, I hear a voice over my shoulder—and it’s
Ian.
“Hi guys, fancy seeing you here,” he says with a smug expression, obviously aware of what he’s
interrupting.
Chapter 14

Ian


I sip my coffee and look out the window with salacious eyes.
What I’m currently seeing has me at a loss. There’s Evan, my dear brother, having a beautifully
setup lunch with Meg...my heart’s desire.
We’re all aware that she spent the night with Paul, and that’s enough to make my blood boil. But
now, I have to wake up to this? Who does romance before noon, anyway?
I’m watching them, and she looks as sexy as ever in her white lace nightgown. Truly, she’s the most
perfect house guest the mansion has ever had. Is she a maid or a guest?
I’m still unclear as to how Meg got here. She obviously has a prime education, so why is she
working for us again?
I like the idea of being her boss. I’m one of the most successful lawyers in the city, and I could
definitely take her on as an intern or an assistant. She obviously has the brains for it.
But at this moment, she’s being wooed by my brother Evan, and I feel disgruntled by it. That should
be me out there wooing her. With four of us brothers around the house, there’s always stiff competition for
women.
But this is getting insane.
People are vying for Meg’s attention like she’s the Hope diamond. Indeed, she’s close to being that.
She really is that beautiful, and I guess we all know that makes the rivalry begin.
I push the blonde hair off of my face and get away from the window. I don’t need to see more of
that. Evan obviously didn’t waste any time in getting to know Meg, and I think I’ll do him one better.
I get on the phone and arrange to have the limousine come by the house in about an hour. Then, I
call my assistant and have her arrange all the details.
“Tammy. Hi, it’s Ian. Listen, I know that I’m out in the country, but you’re in the city. I need you to
arrange a couple things for me.”
“Okay, sure. Whatever you need, I can do,” she says, always ready to please me.
“Well, it’s about a woman. I need you to arrange an afternoon of luxury shopping. You can do it at
the outdoor mall that’s here. I need you to warn all of the stores that we’re coming so that we receive the
very best treatment possible.”
“Sure thing, no problem. What stores did you have in mind, exactly?” she asks.
“I want to go to all the best, Gucci, Chanel—and don’t forget Agent Provocateur.”
“It’ll all be arranged, sir. All I need is about an hour to get it done,” she says.
 “And Tammy, it would be nice if you can organize a dinner at a romantic restaurant. I want our time
to extend into the evening. I want everything to be perfect. And if you can make sure there’s a bouquet of
roses waiting for us in the limo, that would be great,” I say.
Tammy’s pretty used to me arranging this sort of thing, though it’s not very often I go out of my way
for a woman like this. She knows it must be someone special if I’m pulling out all the stops. At the same
time, she knows that I’m not a one-woman kind of guy.
Everyone in NYC does.
Ian Sullivan doesn’t settle down for anyone. That’s the talk on the town. I assume my reputation
precedes me.
I doubt Meg will change any of that. But for the time being, I’m just interested in having fun and
beating my brothers in this game of ours.
I’m going to steal Meg away for an afternoon of shopping. She deserves a life of luxury and the
clothes to go with it. Besides, it’ll give us some quiet time away from the mansion to get to know each
other a little bit better.
I can’t wait to break up Evan’s little surprise lunch, brunch—or whatever the hell you call it. Paul
already claimed her last night, and I won’t have Evan doing the same thing today. I’m ready for Meg to be
mine, and it’s about time she understood my intentions.
I put on my finest Armani suit, groom my thick blonde hair, and put on some cologne. Then, I
happily make my way out to the garden, knowing I’m about to ruin Evan’s moment.
I walk through the lengthy mansion and see all of the staff. Mrs. Simmons smiles at me, and I see
other maids going about their tasks. I’m so glad that Meg’s not a part of that today.
We’re gonna have to get her off the maid thing.
I imagine that Paul or Evan have arranged for her to have the morning off. I think maybe I should
tell Mrs. Simmons that Meg needs to have the afternoon and evening hours off, too.
So as I pass her I say, “Mrs. Simmons, I need to have Meg for the remainder of the day. Please
relieve her of any duties you might have had planned. Thank you.”
She knows better than to argue with me. Mrs. Simmons is a kind woman, but she’s a tough boss, and
I can’t imagine Megan having to work underneath her.
For some reason, I want Meg to have only the best. I want her to never lift a finger for the rest of
her life. I want to spoil her and for her to be all mine. If she were mine, she’d never work a day in her life
that she didn’t want to.
I walk through the gardens. If I hadn’t seen them from the window, it wouldn’t be an easy task to
find Evan and Meg. There’s virtually a maze of greenery out here, common to the English style. I know
Evan is trying to keep their little rendezvous a secret, but luckily, nothing much gets past me.
As I go, I swipe a rose from one of the bushes, minding the thorns. I hide it behind my back. And
then I see them.
 I approach quietly to surprise Meg and say, “Hi guys, fancy seeing you here.”
She swings around to see me, and Evan casts me the evil eye. I catch them in the act of something.
He’s got her hand under the table, and I can only imagine what’s going on down there.
Looks like my timing is perfect.
“Ian!” Meg pulls her hand away and jumps up to greet me.
I pull her in for a hug and feel like I’ve already won. I press her closely against my body so she can
feel the outline of my muscles.
“Meg, it’s so good to see you. I’ve been missing you already since last night.”
Evan is glaring at me the entire time. I pay him no mind.
I’ve obviously won this round.
“Why Ian, what are you doing here? We’re obviously having a private brunch. I hope that you have
a good reason for interrupting us,” Evan says, the constant alpha male thinking he can dictate to me.
“Actually,” I say, releasing Meg and admiring her little nightgown up close. “I’m here for a reason.
Meg, I need you to get dressed as quickly as possible—I have quite the afternoon planned for us.”
“You do?” she asks me with hopeful eyes.
“Trust me,” I say to her. “You’re gonna love it.”
She looks at me and says, “But Ian, I think I have to work. Mrs. Simmons has a whole outline of
things that need to be done around the house. I’m afraid I can’t go with you.”
I look at her and think it’s almost humorous how she thinks that she has to work today. If it were up
to me, she’d never lift a beautiful finger again. If it were up to me, I’d spoil her instead of making her
work. And that’s exactly what I plan on doing this afternoon.
“Meg, don’t worry about that. I’ve had a talk with Mrs. Simmons, and everything was arranged.
Work should really be your last priority.”
I look over her shoulder, and Evan is enraged. I enjoy seeing his angry expression. It means I’ve
gotten under his skin, and most of all, that I still have a chance of taking Meg away from him. He mustn’t
be very secure in their connection if he’s getting this mad at me for taking her away.
Although, if I were in the same position, I’d be pissed too. Every second spent with Meg is
valuable.
“So go get dressed honey, and meet me out front. The limo will be waiting,” I say.
She reluctantly walks over to Evan and gives him a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you, Evan, for a
wonderful morning. I’ll see you later, okay?”
He smiles and nods at her.
“Go, have a good time. I’ll see you later, Meg,” he says.
He’s trying to be the bigger man, but I can see under his façade that he’s incredibly annoyed with
me and likely exasperated.
Well, Evan thought he was going to arrange for the perfect rendezvous in the garden and that nobody
would see them. He was mistaken. He should’ve chosen a better spot if he wanted to fuck this beauty
today.
Meg runs towards the house eagerly, anxious for an afternoon of luxury.
“That was mighty slick of you,” Evan says.
“What is it?”
I feign not knowing what he’s talking about.
“You played this one well, Ian. But it won’t last forever. At some point, I’ll swoop in and take her
from you,” he says.
“Whatever you say, man,” I say over my shoulder as I walk towards the house.
I’m unaffected by Evan because I’m sure of myself and of my way with women. After today, Meg
will be thinking of nobody else but me.
I go inside and prepare to meet the limo out front. I also go and make sure it’s stocked with
champagne and anything else that Meg might desire.
Chapter 15

Meg


I practically run up to my room, eager to get out of the mansion for a day.
Granted, on my way, Mrs. Simmons shoots me a disapproving look. I imagine she thinks I’m flirting
with the guys, garnering all this attention instead of working. In truth, that’s only half the case.
The guys have been coming after me—not the other way around.
They’ve requested my time off work. But I’m not complaining. I don’t want to work as a maid
anymore.
It’s been exhausting, and I feel like I have more valuable things to do with my time…like hanging
out with Ian this afternoon.
“Hi, Mrs. Simmons,” I wave. “Bye Mrs. Simmons.”
She says nothing but nods her head in my direction as I hurry past. I need to go for a quick bath and
figure out what to wear. Ian obviously has the afternoon planned, and I want to make sure I look cute.
In my room, I take a quick bath without washing my hair. Then, I smooth some nice almond oil all
over my body, spritz myself with perfume, and put on another one of my favorite dresses that I brought.
It’s a little maroon bohemian dress that I match with knee-high boots.
As I get ready, I see that my phone has several messages from Simon on it. I’m hesitant to even look
at what he has to say. I don’t want him ruining the afternoon that Ian has planned for me.
And that’ll surely happen if I hear from Simon and feel the guilt of knowing I have to spy on these
men. In the end, I can’t help but look.
There’s a text from him that says, Meg, where have you been? You’re supposed to be reporting to
me. What have you found?
Another text sent a little while later says, Are you ignoring me? You better not be ignoring me. You
know what will happen if you don’t do this for me, Meg. I can ruin you.
Some words from a boyfriend, right?
All his hateful comments come back to me, and I remember why I’m trying to run away from him.
His words make me shudder because I know he can do it.
But I try to steel myself against his hurtful words. I have a plan in place after all. I’m gonna get
away from here and go to some island paradise.
I never want to see Simon again.
Of course, that’ll mean never seeing the guys—these handsome brothers—again, either. But so far,
nothing serious has happened. None of them have proclaimed their love for me, and it’s not like we’re
monogamous or anything.
I’m free to go.
But Simon’s text reminds me that I’m in the midst of treason. I can never get serious with any of the
brothers. If they ever learn the truth about me, they’ll surely hate me forever.
Better to get out of the picture before any of the drama begins.
I twist my hair up into a bun, smearing on some lipstick and mascara, and head out the door.
I go downstairs and peek out the windows along the way to see the limo waiting.
I walk out the front door, and Ian is there, looking so handsome in his suit. I’m glad I wore a dress.
I’m not exactly sure what he has planned today, but a dress can never hurt anything.
“You look beautiful Meg, as always,” he says, kissing my cheek.
“Thank you,” I say, taking his hand as he leads me into the limo.
I’m used to limos and everything. Like I said, Simon has money...he’s just not a billionaire.
“Oh Ian, you got me roses? That’s so sweet,” I say, kissing him on the cheek in thanks.
“Do you like them?” he asks.
I bring the dozen roses to my chest and smell them. They’re so fragrant. How did he know that the
rose is my favorite flower?
I guess it’s not a hard one to know; roses are roses. But they’ve always been my favorite, and I
appreciate his gesture so much.
“You have no idea how much I love them,” I say.
Before another word escapes my lips, he pulls me in for a kiss as we sit in the back of the limo.
It’s the first time we’ve kissed, and I must say it’s intoxicating.
I already feel as though I could fall so easily under his spell. Ian has a commanding kind of energy.
He makes me want to obey and submit, as long as he promises to fuck me over and over again into eternal
bliss.
Yes, these are the thoughts that run through my head whenever I’m around Ian. He’s handsome and
tall. He looks like a blueblood, always wearing preppy clothes and being so classy with his mannerisms.
I’ve had a crush on Ian for a while now, and I’m so glad I finally get to spend some time with him.
It doesn’t hurt that he tastes like mint and smells of musky cologne. It’s turning me on so much to kiss him
in the back of the limousine like this.
I’m tempted to climb on top of his lap and rock back-and-forth so I can feel his manhood. As it is, I
hold back, ever the lady. But I can see his cock straining through his pants, and it’s definitely not
disappointing.
He’s as well-endowed as his brothers are. They all seem to have been gifted in the length and size
of their cocks, and it doesn’t make my job any easier of picking which one to be with. I want them all so
far, and there’s nothing to do about it except to continue on this journey.
I slide my hand along Ian’s cock though. I just can’t resist feeling it. He tips his head back and sighs
deeply, as though he’s enjoying it.
“Ian, you’re so...big,” I say.
He kisses me with fervor, and it’s starting to heat up in the back of this limo. I smooth my hands
along his shaft. I’m aching to tease it, suck it, taste it, and feel it inside of me.
As it is, it doesn’t take long for us to reach our destination. We soon pull up to a row of luxury
stores. I see the names, Chanel, Versace...all the big names.
For a second, I’m removed from my lust because I think about Simon. He handles all my money,
and I don’t have enough to spend on this type of thing. If I use my credit card, he’ll know I’ve been out
shopping, and he’ll likely put the pieces together that it was one of the brothers that brought me.
In fact, I suddenly feel skeptical about being so far outside of the mansion. If Simon were to see me,
it would be bad. It’s one thing to run to the market for Mrs. Simmons—that falls under my job description.
But showing up in the limo with Ian Sullivan, the brother I’m supposed to be defaming…well,
that’s a different situation.
“We’re so far away from the mansion,” I say, revealing some of my fear to Ian.
“So what, baby? Didn’t you want to get away?” he says, questioning me.
I try to cover my tracks.
“Of course. Of course, I wanted to get away. This is lovely. I’ve just never been here before.”
I’m thinking that I need to ask a little bit about the will. Again, it seems like an inopportune time,
but if I don’t start getting to the bottom of this, I fear Simon might try to come find me.
“Hey Ian,” I say nonchalantly as we drive up to the shops, our destination. “You know, I don’t have
enough money on my credit card to afford anything expensive.”
“Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve just inherited a fortune,” he says.
“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. So you really inherited all your father’s money? Like the documents
are signed and sealed?” I say, gently trying to ask him the information so that he doesn’t grow suspicious.
He looks at me quizzically and says, “Yes. It’s about done. Besides, I don’t need my father’s money.
I make more money than I know what to do with on my own.”
Then, he pulls in and kisses me again while saying, “So let me spoil you today. Don’t worry about a
thing.”
“Let me show you around,” he says as the driver pulls up to Chanel.
He opens the door for us, but Ian takes the liberty of helping me out himself.
There’s a long line of stores to choose from, but he wants to go into Agent Provocateur first. His
reasons are obvious…but I’m game.
“First thing’s first, you need some new lingerie. I want you to pick something special just for me,
for my eyes alone,” he says.
I walk throughout the store and see all number of glamorous underthings. He takes a seat at one of
the plush couches and watches me.
 What would Ian like?
I’m starting to get the feeling that he would like me in anything I wear, it doesn’t matter what. But I
still want to impress him.
I pick out a few things to model for him. I already know that’s part of the deal. And I don’t mind it
one bit. I have a lot of nude and black pieces of lingerie, most notably garter belts that go with each outfit.
I pick out many naughty styles, knowing that this will intrigue Ian.
I go into the dressing room to start trying things on. I put on the black lingerie outfit that comes with
suspenders and everything. Then, I slip my heels on in order to model for him.
I peek my head out of the dressing room door, not wanting full exposure. He motions for me to
come out.
So I do it. I walk out in front of him, not feeling shy at all.
I’m pretty confident with my body.
“That looks…amazing,” he says. “I think you should get it.”
“You think?” I say, taking a little twirl so he can see my entire body wrapped in this lingerie.
“Definitely.”
He follows me into the heavily draped dressing room, and I’m surprised.
“Ian, you shouldn’t be in here. They’ll catch us and kick us out,” I try to argue.
My words fall on deaf ears because he’s got me pressed against the dressing room wall. He pins
my arms above my head so that I can’t move. He’s kissing me with lust and ardor.
It’s all I can do to hold back. I don’t want to hold back.
Suddenly, I can only think about Ian and his delicious taste, and how he seems to own me in this
moment, as though it’s only me and him in the entire world.
Chapter 16

Ian


Her body in lingerie.
A fucking vision in lace.
It’s everything I could’ve imagined and more.
She’s perfect; therefore, she has to be mine.
I can’t hold back any longer. Seeing Meg twirling about in lingerie right before my eyes, watching
her return to the dressing room, imagining her taking it all off her soft, naked body…it has me so goddamn
full of lust.
Meg’s perfume is lovely and sets the mood in our little dressing room escapade. Her neck is craned
to the side, and while she’s happily accepting of my advances, I can tell she’s still holding back. I can feel
it.
I slide my hands against her skin and admire every curve as I trail my fingers down her body. I stop
at her ass and give it a tight squeeze, something I’ve wanted to do since I first saw her at the party.
Meg is an insanely attractive woman. How such a gorgeous creature could even exist befuddles me.
She makes a delightful little moan as my hands cup her ass.
Such a sexy noise from such a delicate, lovely being sends a shiver through my own body, and I
know that I want her to make that noise over and over.
For a moment, I almost lose focus on what I truly want: to give Meg an experience she won’t forget.
I want it to live on in her mind and remain in her memory for eternity.
And that requires skill and patience. Sexual attraction is a game of strategy, and I play to win.
I slide my hands over her breasts slowly, letting her feel my fingers as they travel over the fabric of
her bra. I want her to beg for my touch. I want her to need my affection.
My hands slide up to her shoulders, putting a slight amount of pressure against her bare skin before
running my fingers down her back and against the clasp of her bra. She’s become just the least bit fidgety,
which tells me I’m doing this exactly right.
I unhook the band of her bra and let each side fall down her shoulders. My fingers graze her skin
again as they make their way up to the straps of her bra. Her chest is rising and falling more and more
rapidly as I start to gently tug the straps down the length of her arms, revealing her perfect, perky breasts.
A perfect woman indeed, confirmed further by her spectacular physique. I see such beauty in her,
but I can see she’s not quite relaxed yet.
“You’re radiant, darling,” I tell her. “Quite literally, you’re the most stunning creature I’ve ever had
the pleasure to lay my eyes on.”
And I mean it. Every fucking word.
“Why, thank you,” she responds, still appearing a bit timid about the entire experience.
“What’s on your mind right now? Tell me your thoughts. Your wants. Your desires,” I murmur.
“I’m so incredibly captivated by you, Ian. I want you. I want you so badly that I might just explode
if you keep your fingers on me,” she breathes.
Music to my fucking ears.
“Then why are you so afraid?” I ask her.
I want to pick her brain, to find out what she needs from me to make this the perfect moment for her.
“We’re in a fitting room,” she answers. “I’m just so worried we’ll get caught, Ian. I don’t want
anything…bad to come back to the mansion.”
I laugh. I damn near cackle. But then I realize dear Meg’s sincere about her concerns.
I brush her hair back with my fingers. “Darling, if there was anything at all to worry about, we
would not be in here. Trust me, anything and everything about today has already been taken care of.”
“Taken care of? You’re certain?” she asks.
“Yes, my dear. Completely,” I confirm.
“Well then, you naughty bird,” she starts. “Why not get me undressed the rest of the way?” she
suggests and winks at me, making a cute, cheeky pose.
As much as I want to tear the clothes off her right now and ravish her, I take a deep breath and start
with her sweet tits.
“The best things in life come to those who wait,” I tell her. “I assure you, you’ll not be left
unsatisfied.”
My hands cup her breasts firmly. I lower my face to her chest and kiss the skin between her tits.
Then, I move my lips to her right nipple and suckle it while massaging her left tit.
As soon as my tongue flicks against her nipple, she gasps. And then she moans. Her sexy voice
travels from the depths of her vocal cords and resonates in my own body.
I’m taken aback yet again by this green-eyed goddess.
I switch my mouth to her other breast while groping the first one. She moans again and breathes in
heavily, her hands gripping my shoulder.
I can feel her shudder under my lips. I hone in on her sensitive spots, and I’m sure I’m driving her
up the wall.
There’s an important need to truly make a woman submit to me. It’s more than ordering her to do as
I ask. It’s more than restraining their body.
No, it’s much more exciting and rewarding to show them you have what they need and then give it
to them at the perfect moment of suspense and desire.
As I’m groping Meg, she lowers herself just slightly and thrusts her hips up at my cock, grazing
against it. My eyes widen while I suck one nipple, and my cock twitches the very moment her pussy rubs
against it.
I pull my body away just slightly, drawing myself out of her reach. Then, I quickly wrap my arm
around her tight little waist and pull her against me.
She looks into my eyes and gasps. I push my lips against hers in a searing kiss. Soon, our tongues
are exploring each other’s mouths while my cock teases her pussy.
She thrusts her hips towards me, giving me a crystal-clear picture of exactly what she wants. And
she’s going to get it. Just after I’ve finished teasing her.
I thread my finger underneath the front strap of her underwear and pull it up, snapping the garter.
She winces and gives off a subtle moan. I do it again.
And again. And again. Until all the straps are undone.
She helps me take her out of the garter. While it’s so sexy to look at, it’s a hell of a contraption to
get out of, at least from what I can see. Plus, I’m much more concerned with what’s underneath it.
I wrap my hands around her ass, admiring the curves and size of her cheeks and her wide, sexy
hips. I lower my left hand to her pussy. She’s so incredibly wet, and if a minute ago, I wasn’t certain I’d
be buying what she’s wearing…I’m definitely certain now.
I’m ready to show her what she’s in for. Her chest rises with each breath as her body fidgets. Her
pussy just screams to be attended to.
Her panties are my last distraction, and after pulling them off her, there’s a gorgeous, completely
naked beauty in front of me.
I slip my fingers between her pussy lips, and they’re instantly slick with her juices. I run up and
down the length of her slit, lubing my fingers.
I find her clit and slide my fingers between her pussy lips, moving my hand up and down. She
moans quietly, almost like a whisper. As I pleasure her, she grips my shoulder, and I feel her nails trying
to claw into my skin.
She’s still trying to hold back. But no worries—that’s going to change.
I switch to running my thumb over her clit while I tease her little hole with my middle finger. She
starts thrusting against it, trying to force my fingers inside of her.
There we go, baby.
“Tell me what you want, Meg,” I demand.
“Ian,” she replies.
“What do you want me to do to you?” I ask her. “Beg me to do it.”
“I want you to finger me. Please!” she shouts.
There we go. Fixed. And who am I to deny such a perfect request?
I plunge my fingers deep inside of her and listen to her moan. That lovely noise makes my cock
throb in my pants, and I’m reminded very quickly of how much I want to take her as my own.
 With Paul having already seduced her into bed, and with Evan trying to make his own moves on
her, I need to have her.
Here. Today. In this very dressing room.
And it’s going to be a gloriously memorable moment that she’s going to want to relive over and
over.
Chapter 17

Meg


Pulse racing.
Heat rising.
Sensation creeping all over my body.
My mind explodes, just from the penetration of his fingers. My hands shoot up, well beyond my
control, and clutch at his shoulders. I feel his finger press deeper into my depths, and I struggle to stifle
my moans.
A sigh of pleasure manages to escape my throat despite my best efforts.
His fingers seem to explore me with renewed vigor in response to it, almost as if he sees my
struggle as a challenge.
I bury my face in his chest, in hopes of muffling myself further, but immediately see the flaw in my
plans. His scent floods my nostrils. A heady mix of musk, spices, and something I can only describe as
pure man swirls through my mind, sending my brain reeling even further as I feel a digit curl inside me,
pressing upward until he finds...
“Ahh!” I moan loudly as his fingertip grazes my G-spot.
“There we go,” he says proudly, almost breathlessly.
I bite my lip and try desperately to control my breathing, but it only comes out ragged against the
fabric of his suit shirt. The cool, velvety slickness of his tie rubbing against my cheek starts to bring me to
my senses slightly, but a firm hand on my shoulder pulls me away from any sense of reprieve jarringly.
The entirety of our surroundings is hazy to me. The only thing I can focus on is Ian. And his fingers.
His fucking fingers. I grind my hips upward, riding his hand as it continues pumping in and out of
my tight, little hole.
I grab my tits and squeeze them hard, doing everything I can not to scream out from behind the
curtain supplying us our illusion of privacy.
He lowers himself onto one knee, hooks my leg around his arm and onto his shoulder, and slides a
second finger into my pussy, now pumping harder and faster, grinding hard against my G-spot.
“Ahhhh! Ahh! Ahhhhh!” I pant.
I look down at him with wide eyes and drag my nails down the wall behind me as I quickly find
myself on the brink of an orgasm.
“Come, Meg,” he commands.
And I do exactly as he wishes—exploding in orgasm, no longer able to contain my moans and
whimpers, and not caring whatsoever as my body tingles and releases my cum against Ian’s fingers.
I grind my hips, gyrating them reflexively as I ride through waves of pleasure before finally floating
back to shore. I’m able to finally catch my breath.
I run my fingers through my hair as I pant and peer down at Ian, who by the look on his face, is far
from done with me. And I am perfectly okay with that.
If that’s what his fingers can do, I can’t wait to see how he handles the rest of himself.
By my judgement, I’m in for a lot more of a treat than a shopping spree and a quick orgasm.
He stares hungrily into my eyes, and, without warning, hooks his other arm around my other leg and
up above his shoulder. His arms and shoulders are the only thing keeping me up against this wall.
“Ian, fuck, no. What if they hear us?” I say, winding my fingers through his hair.
He doesn’t give a damn about what I’ve said. He doesn’t give a damn about anything other than me.
He buries his face into my pussy, shaking his nose against my clit and running his tongue between
my pussy lips, lapping up the cum that’s just burst through them. I throw my head back, looking right up to
the ceiling.
Housed right above us is a security camera.
It sets in that there’s likely a security guard somewhere in this store monitoring this and getting off
to our hot little session. It turns me on so much to know that someone could actually be watching, and it
overrides my fear of being caught and whatever consequences could come of that.
As Ian makes out with my pussy, I grab my tits and pinch my nipples, enjoying every bit of the
affection I’m taking in and entertaining the fantasy that we could have an audience.
I grind my hips against Ian’s face and hear a muffled moan of approval under me. As I hump his
face I feel him adjust himself below me.
Ian pulls his face from between my legs and brings them off his shoulders, lowering me to the
ground gently. He stands up, spins me around quickly, and forces my attention to the floor-length mirror in
front of us.
I see our bodies in the reflection. My own naked body, glistening with sweat, saliva, and cum is in
the foreground, and Ian’s sexy loosened tie, wrinkled shirt, and messy hair is behind me.
We’re the perfect picture of a sexy, wild couple. I enjoy Ian’s adventurous nature and his blind
confidence in any situation. It all comes through, right here in our reflection.
He pulls my hair aside and kisses me on the neck, and I watch him right there in the mirror and
extend an arm up to caress his face. Watching him please me is erotic and new and incredibly fascinating.
Ian looks up in the mirror at me, staring right into my reflection’s eyes. I see him grab at his neck
and unravel his tie. He straightens it out and lets it hang from his neck freely while he reaches to my sides
and grabs my wrists.
He pulls them behind me, holding them in place in the small of my back while he grabs his tie. He
starts knotting the tie around my wrists, looping the tie through them several times, getting a snug fit and a
good hold.
“Look at me,” he commands.
I look into his face, staring into mine in the mirror.
“You’re mine today, Meg,” he states. “Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” I say in almost a whisper.
“Good.”
He shoves his knee between my legs, forcing them to part just slightly. As I plant my feet firmly on
the ground, I’m instantly lifted to my toes as Ian’s cock slides into my tight, wet pussy.
His hand is on the back of my neck, and his fingers are holding my head firmly in place, making
sure I’m watching my own expression as his cock enters me.
Another fucking thrilling and erotic feeling I’ve never had before. Watching your own face while
you’re getting fucked teaches you so much about yourself that you never thought you needed to know.
“Oh, fuck, Ian,” I breathe. “Oh my fuck, I can’t take it.”
I just can’t help myself. I need him to know that I’m close to my edge, to the abyss, and that it looks
like a dangerous fall.
“Tell me how much of my cock you want inside of you,” he demands.
“I want every fucking inch, sir,” I beckon.
“Yeah?” he starts. “Beg for it, Meg. Beg me to shove my entire fucking cock inside of you.”
“Please! Oh my fucking god. Ahh! Ahhhh! Pleeaasee fuck me with you whole fucking cock. I
fucking need it, Ian. I need your fucking cock!” I shout.
“That’s fucking right you do. Why is that, Megan?”
“Because I’m your slut, and I deserve to be fucked!” I cry, just rolling the words right off the top of
my head. It’s coming so naturally.
I feel it. It’s all true. Watching him fuck me, seeing my expression, seeing how my body responds to
his, and enjoying it all so, so much…I am his slut today.
And I’m fucking embracing it.
He grabs my hips and pounds into me, the sound of skin slapping together ever-present in this fitting
room. We slam into each other over and over.
His cock rams against my G-spot and up to my cervix, filling my cunt entirely.
“I want to come,” I say through clenched teeth. “Please let me come.”
“Wait.”
My eyes roll back into my head as I practice as much restraint as I’m able to. I bite my lip and sink
my teeth in hard. When I can’t handle it anymore, and right when I feel like I’m about to explode, he grants
my permission.
“Come. Come with me, Meg!” he shouts.
We come together, and he forces my face back to the mirror and makes me watch my face form a
giant ‘O’ as incredible pleasure courses through my entire body.
As I come onto his cock, he comes inside of me.
I’m so full of both of our cum that it just bursts right out of me as he pulls out, dripping down my
thighs and rolling all the way down to my ankles.
He turns me around and grabs me by the cheeks and kisses me hard and passionately. I let his
tongue slide into my mouth and we make out in our post-orgasmic high.
“Come with me,” he says. “Let’s get your new garments paid for and head on out.”
He winks at me and spanks my ass as I get myself dressed, cum still dripping down my thigh.
Chapter 18

Ian


Sweat and cum glisten on her body.
A shiver runs through mine.
She pulls her dress on, and all I can think is how fucking lucky I am. Never before has such a
beautiful woman graced my presence, and—better yet—I’ve just spent the afternoon spoiling her and
ravaging her.
Today couldn’t be a better day if I had spent it obtaining another billion dollars. Meg is an absolute
fucking delight, and I’ve had the most pleasure courting her.
Normally, I’d be done right about now. I’d be bored and looking for my way out.
Not with her. I’m still hungry.
“May I?” I ask, offering to zip her dress once it’s back into proper position on her body.
“Yes, please,” she responds as she spins around, giving me a fucking glorious view of her ass.
I pull the zipper all the way to the top and pull her beautiful hair back, just wanting to put my hands
through it. She tilts her head back over her shoulder and gives me a seductive, sultry look.
My own heart skips a beat at her amazing beauty, and I stand close to her and wrap my arm around
her waist.
“Come, Meg. Let’s get this all wrapped up for you,” I suggest. “We should be heading back to the
manor, yes?”
“Yeah, just one moment,” she responds.
She’s facing herself in the mirror, brushing the dress down to get any wrinkles out and checking
herself out one last time.
I don’t know if she’s done it on purpose or by pure mistake, but she still has a rather significant
amount of both of our cum drizzling down her legs, running from the tease line of her dress all the way to
her ankles.
Either way, it serves as a hell of a decoration for such a ravishing young woman, and I won’t point
it out. It’s entirely appropriate. Besides, we’ll be returning home after this, and she’s free to retire to the
washroom for a relaxing bath.
I take her hand, and we walk from the dressing room to the checkout counter.
“Did you find everything you were needing?” the cashier asks politely.
“Absolutely. Thank you,” I respond, acknowledging her sincerity.
I like to think that I’m much more polite than most of the more wealthy individuals I’ve encountered
in my life, all while still maintaining my own sense of entitlement.
I pull out a gold American Express card and pass it to the cashier, not bothering to hear the total.
She swipes it, places the receipt in one of the bags, and we take them from the counter and make our way
through the outdoor mall to the limo.
It’s a gorgeous day outside, and there are many people flocking outside, enjoying the mall at their
leisure. One particularly fun note is that there are many of them turning their heads at us, staring at my
gorgeous prize of a woman and noticing her accessory running down from between her legs as we strut to
our vehicle.
My chauffeur is waiting at the passenger door of the limo, ready to open the door for us.
“Hello, James. Did you enjoy your break?” I inquire. “Lovely day outside.”
“Yes, sir, as a matter of fact I did. Thank you so much for asking,” James responds.
He’s been a loyal employee of my family for many years. He’s almost like family himself. I care to
check in with him.
“Of course, James,” I respond as I help Meg into the limo ahead of me.
Admittedly, while I’m being a gentleman, I have her ahead of me also to check out her spectacular
ass.
I climb in behind her, and we sit side by side. The limo door closes, and James comes around to the
front. He starts the car, and we depart for our destination.
My fingers are laced with hers, her soft skin resting against mine. She leans into me and rests her
head against my chest. Nothing is as grand as a lovely woman feeling safe and comfortable against you.
The thoughts of our dressing room adventure creep into my mind. It’s just happened, and I still can
hardly wrap my mind around it.
Her body, her smile, and her kind demeanor all just come together to equate an over-the-top
experience. I’m already hooked on her, and I’m afraid it’s gotten me into a slight…dilemma.
My cock twitches in my pants. She better notice that Daddy’s ready for round two. I want to see if
her mind is on my cock as much as mine is on her body.
She glances immediately down, and I’m pleased.
Good girl.
Quickly, her hands find the button and zipper to my pants. She unfastens and unzips them, reaching
in and grabbing my cock right from my trousers.
My hand resting behind her head becomes a force that pushes her down against my cock, which she
slips right into her mouth. Her lips are curled around it, her tongue swiveling around the head, her hand
firmly gripped on my shaft.
She starts to move up and down on it, with some guidance from my hand. I moan as the tip of my
cock sits at the entrance of her throat. She shakes her head against it, stimulating it even more.
I take her head, holding it in place, and start thrusting up into her mouth. She moans for me, loving
that I’ve taken control again. She sits, mouth open invitingly, and lets me fuck her face as we continue our
trek to the mansion.
There are many cars all around us, and if the windows of the limo weren’t tinted, I’m certain
someone would peer in and see her head bobbing up and down on my rod. I would love for everyone to
see her in the act. She truly is mesmerizing.
I lay my head back against the headrest and look straight up to see a mirror above us, reflecting our
little party. I see her lovely ass as she sits and takes my cock in her mouth like a true little slut.
My cock throbs and pulses in her mouth, and I grip her hair tight as I squirt cum into her mouth,
filling it with my creamy fluid. I moan in delight as she accepts my cum against her tongue.
I let up on her, allowing her to sit upright next to me. She leans in and kisses me hard, depositing
my cum into my mouth, mixed with her saliva.
We trade it back and forth in our mouths, just sharing and passing it between us. I return it to her
mouth one last time and break our kiss.
“Swallow it,” I order.
She smiles as she swishes it around in her mouth and gulps it down. She’s incredibly obedient and
so eager to please.
“Thank you, Ian,” she says.
I slide a hand behind her and quickly tug her zipper all the way down. I yank the straps from her
shoulders and lay her down and pull the garment down her legs. I pull her panties down and off of her and
throw her legs above my shoulders, my hard cock already waiting to enter her pussy.
She flexes her hips up at my cock, slipping it in just slightly. I hover over her and hold her wrists
down and see the shift in her eyes from wild and crazy to submissive.
She gulps and waits for me. I push my cock inside of her, giving her my full length right then and
there.
She whimpers as I slide myself in, the tip of my cock right at her cervix. I thrust myself in and out of
her nice and hard.
I shift us quickly, pulling her on top of me. I press the button that controls the mechanism, opening
the sunroof. I get on my knees, lifting her just outside of the limo enough that her tits are visible to all of
the traffic around us.
I hold her waist and plow into her and let all of the city watch her orgasm, just as she had done in
the department store just moments ago.
It’s fucking sexy to put her on display.
She comes all over my cock, and as I’m about to come, I pull her back down into the car.
“On your knees,” I command her.
I wrap my hand around my cock and stroke it, coming all over her bare chest.
My cum drips down her body, resting on her nipples, her stomach, and even dripping down to her
pussy. I pant and gaze into my gorgeous woman, truly taken by how sexy she looks just covered in an
outfit’s worth of my cum.
Meg smiles and scoops a glob of cum with her fingers and pushes it into her mouth before smiling
and winking at me coyly and redressing herself for the second time.
As I zip her dress for her again, we arrive at the mansion.
Chapter 19

Meg


It’s been an idyllic few days at the mansion.
Mrs. Simmons has put me to work, seemingly harder than ever. It’s as if she’s silently making me
pay for all the adoration I’ve gained from the men.
I wonder how many other maids or members of the staff they’ve bedded. It doesn’t get past me that
these guys are playboys. And even though we have a connection and I’m starting to have feelings for them,
ultimately I know that it will not last. That it can’t.
Besides, I have my own plan for getting away. I’ve been continuing my nightly research as to where
to go when this whole thing is over. Granted, I’m getting in so deep with these guys that it will be hard to
leave and even harder to betray them.
But Simon has not let me off the hook for a second. He’s constantly bugging me and threatening me
over text. He wants information, and he wants it now.
But the truth is, there’s just nothing to find out. I don’t know where George Belcourt’s will is
hidden. I don’t know if it’s even hidden. And I don’t know what other dirt I can dig up on these guys.
I’m giving Simon all the information I have, but it’s not enough. Nothing is ever enough for him.
Right now, Mrs. Simmons has me clearing out and organizing the storage space in the basement
underneath the house. I’m grateful to be alone in the cedar-lined room, where I can collect my thoughts
and think about what has happened so far.
I have different feelings for all the guys, but feelings nonetheless. I can’t deny that to myself any
longer.
After Ian took me out shopping, and we had that…experience, I find myself constantly thinking
about him. I think about his rock-hard cock and how good it felt sliding in and out of me. I want more of
him.
I want more of all of them.
Ian is so handsome, with that thick blonde hair and his preppy yet casual attitude. I find myself
attracted to men like this, men who have gone to good schools, so I know that they’re very intelligent. I
like to hold a conversation with a man; it gets me aroused.
I admire the fact that he’s made something of himself in the city, from the ground up. I know he’s a
fantastic lawyer, and I commend the fact that he’s made his own wealth.
Granted, all the guys have, but there’s something uniquely special about Ian that was revealed to me
when he took me out the other day. I guess I could just really see myself being with him.
 But at the same time, Paul was really something quite special. My time with him was incredible.
The way he dominated me in his bedroom will never leave my thoughts, not for an instant. In fact, I
find myself missing it…missing him. He’s the most rugged of all the men, and I think that’s super sexy.
I do my best to organize the storage area and make things look nice, but the whole time, my mind is
wandering over to these four brothers.
Paul might’ve made love to me first, but actually, Matt was the first one to kiss me. He was the first
one to make a move on me, after all. I was doubting that any of these guys could ever like me until Matt
came into the picture.
I’ll never forget that day in the library and how good it felt to be with him. I know he’s packing a
giant cock, too, and I’m anxious to get a taste of it.
But then there’s Evan, too. He’s always going out of his way to make me feel comfortable and at
home. I know he’s holding back, and I just think the reason is that he wants to respect me. That alone
makes me feel good, but of course, I can’t forget the way he planned that special breakfast for me in the
garden.
That was one of the most romantic things anybody’s ever done for me. And I’m all for romance
right now. I certainly haven’t had enough of it in my life, and Evan makes me eager for more of that—and
more of him.
I also haven’t forgotten the way his huge shaft felt under the table.
I wonder when Evan and I will have a chance to make our connection real? I wonder when and
where we’ll actually fuck? It’s become a fantasy of mine, to think about how Evan will be with me.
And so, I’m hidden away in the basement, going through wool sweaters and hat boxes and
everything. I like this quiet time to try to sort out my feelings. It’s sort of not fair to any of the men that I
have such strong feelings for each of them, though in different ways.
In the end, I know that they expect me to choose just one of them to be with. But at this point, I can’t
imagine making that decision. I care so deeply about each of them that it would be impossible to choose
just one.
Besides, with Simon in the picture, who knows if I’ll ever get to experience my happily ever after?
I finish my sorting work in the basement and make my way upstairs, only to run into Matt.
I’m happy to see his smiling face, because it’s been too long since we’ve connected. I’m wearing
my maid’s uniform, and I feel sort of sheepish in front of him. I wish I was in something sexier.
“Matt, hi. I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” I say.
He looks at me and pulls me in for a kiss on the stairwell. I feel myself wanting him so bad. I’m
thinking that I wish he would drag me back to his bedroom and make this thing final.
We kiss, and I can feel his yearning for me through his pants. Geez, that cock is fucking big.
He pulls away to say, “Meg, I’m so happy to see you. What are you doing down here?”
“Oh, Mrs. Simmons had me organizing things.”
 “You shouldn’t be doing this kind of work for us, Meg. You’re more special than that,” he says.
“It’s not a big deal. In fact, I kinda liked this alone time in the storage closet. I was able to think a
little bit. And I don’t mind the chores that Mrs. Simmons has laid out for me.”
“Well, that’s too bad because I’m here to deliver some good news, Meg. My brothers and I have
decided that you no longer work for us as a maid.”
Uh oh, I think. What is he talking about? Have I just been fired? What will Simon say?
He might come out here and blow the lid off this whole thing, exposing me to the guys. He’s prone
to…irrational behavior, and I wouldn’t put it past him.
“You mean I’m fired?” I ask.
“No, no. Of course not, Meg. Who would ever fire you? All I’m saying is that we would prefer it if
you stayed on as our houseguest instead of working as a maid. You know that we all adore you, and we
want you to be comfortable here and not feel like you have to work.”
“Oh,” I say feeling relieved.
And then it hits me.
The guys want me to stay on as a houseguest.
“Is Mrs. Simmons okay with that?” I ask.
He looks at me with a steady expression and says, “Mrs. Simmons doesn’t decide. I decide.
Remember that. I want you to feel like you can live here happily. Is that okay with you?”
I look up into his eyes and feel so happy that I throw my arms around his neck.
And then I whisper into his ear, “Thank you, Matt. It really does make me so excited to know that I
can just be here with you guys. If you’re sure that you don’t need me to work, then I would love to take
you up on your offer.”
He smiles at my acceptance, and I find myself thinking how sweet and caring Matt is. He’s
extremely handsome and in control—and yet he also has this tender side. The way he approaches me
always makes me feel good.
In the back of my mind, I’m thinking how nice this will feel to not have to work—but also, I have to
somehow find my way back into the library so that I can look for the will one more time.
With my arms around Matt’s neck, I hate myself for even thinking it. But what choice do I have? If I
don’t do right by Simon, things will get ugly no matter what.
I curse Simon for ruining my moments with these men.
These men that I’m secretly starting to fall for.
Chapter 20

Matt


All seems right in the world.
I’m standing in the lower stairwell with Meg’s arms around my neck.
Her body is tight beneath my arms, and yet I feel her soft, ample breasts pushing up against me. I
force myself to hold back. I’m dying to take this one step further, and it’s all I can do to not slide down to
my knees right here and start eating her out.
But I have other plans in mind for Meg and me, and I’m not going to take the chance of a public
romance in this mansion. Everyone seems to be trying for Meg’s attention and therefore knowing each
other’s business.
When Paul took Megan to his bedroom, it got around like wildfire. I don’t need that to happen to us,
so I have a plan for something a little different.
“God, Meg. You know I want you, right?”
“Yes,” she purrs.
We kiss and it’s passionate—teeth and tongue and everything in between.
I pull myself away from her long enough to say, “If you’re willing to take the time off and stay as
our houseguest, then maybe you’ll take me up on my offer for dinner too?”
“What do you have in mind?” she says, brushing her lips up against my own.
The effect is absolutely tantalizing. I want to drag her back to my bedroom and claim her right now.
But like I said, I have other plans in mind.
“You’ll find out, Meg. Just be ready by seven,” I say. And then I decide to mention, “You have
adequate evening attire, yes?”
I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. I forgot about her little shopping trip with Ian.
Like I said, gossip travels fast around here.
The thought of her with Ian and not me makes me cringe. More than that, it makes my competitive
streak set in, and I want to make love to her more than ever. I want to lock this down and be the only
brother she ever thinks about again. Today is my day, that’s for sure.
“I have clothes. I...I got them at...never mind,” she hesitates to tell me the truth.
That’s nice of her not to rub it in my face. The fact that she’s been with two of my brothers already
and not me is really starting to sink in.
I was the one that went after her first, after all. I was the one who had cornered her in the library
and had stolen that first kiss. It has to mean something, and I hope she remembers that. I hope she
remembers that I’m the one for her.
She might have had some playtime with my brothers, but the real man she’ll become obsessed with
is me—just as I am obsessing over her this very moment.
“I’ll see you then,” I say, hating the fact that I have to go. “Mrs. Simmons would like it if you
returned your uniform to her, and other than that, everything should be in place,” I say to her.
I’m still leaning against her. I have her pinned against the stairway wall with my hips. I know she
can feel my enormous manhood rising only for her.
“Is Mrs. Simmons mad?” she asks as though she’s genuinely concerned.
“No, of course not. She’s a very reasonable woman and I think she’s already gone about the task of
hiring a new maid. I’m glad you’re going to stay here unencumbered by work. I want you to relax every
day, got it?”
She nods her head yes in submission and it makes me very happy. I give her one more kiss and then
pull away to go about the day’s business. Fucking business. I don’t want to leave her beautiful sight.
“So what are you gonna do today?” I say over my shoulder as we make our way up the stairs.
She thinks about it for a moment and says, “I don’t know. I guess, maybe hang out by the pool?”
The idea of Meg in a tiny bikini makes my cock strain even more against my pants. There’s nothing
to do about it now, but tonight, oh tonight it will definitely happen.
I kiss her cheek before breaking away, “Don’t get too much sun, baby.”
I leave her to her own devices, free to do as she wishes in the mansion, as I go about setting up our
evening. I want tonight to be special for Meg so that I’m at the top of her list.
I go to the library so I can make a few calls uninterrupted. On my way there, I run into my brother
Ian.
“Hey man, what are you doing in town? I thought you’d be in the city,” I say.
He casts me a deviant smile and says, “No, I’ve decided to stay around the mansion for a while. I
have other interests that lie here, more important than work.”
“Let me guess, your other interest involves one beautiful brown-haired girl that’s staying with us?
Am I right?”
He chuckles and says, “You’re exactly right. Have you seen her?”
Now it’s my turn to be smug. “Actually, yes. I just came from seeing Meg. I told her that she’s
officially relieved of her duties as being our maid. I didn’t think it’s appropriate anymore that she works
for us in any capacity. She’ll be staying on as a houseguest.”
He’s shocked. Without a doubt, he’s wishing he thought of this. Everybody knows that Meg is too
brilliant and beautiful to be working for us in the house. Besides, I want her to have ample time to think
about...me.
“Nice move, brother. I have to give it to you. That was a good one.”
At least he’s admitting defeat in this round.
 “And, I have a wonderful evening planned for her,” I continue. “It’s all scheduled so don’t get any
ideas about interrupting us like you did with Evan’s breakfast.”
“Word travels fast around here,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Indeed it does. I’ll see you around.”
I walk past him and make my way to the library. In the solace of the beautifully carved wood and
book-lined walls, I can make my calls in peace.
I sit at father’s desk which is organized by now, thanks to Meg. I make some calls, namely to the
Ritz Carlton.
“Hi, I’d like to make reservations for two. If we could be in your VIP area that would be great. And
would you also book us a suite?”
“No problem, sir. We’ll just need a credit card to hold that room,” the receptionist says.
“My name is Matt Knight.”
That’s all I have to say. We’re so well-known around this part of the town and even within the
broader city that it only requires my name to hold the space. Fuck having a credit card. She knows exactly
who I am. It comes with exclusivity.
Once she knows who I am, her tone turns from friendly to interested.
“Sure, Mr. Knight. We have you all booked. Have a nice evening.”
I sit back in my father’s cushioned and worn leather chair. He completed so much business here,
right in this spot. I look around at the pictures of us boys and I’m reminded of how proud he was of us. It
makes me want to do right by him in the future and to continue to succeed.
As I’m sitting at the desk, I’m reminded that I need to get his will out so the lawyers can access it.
I go to the ottoman with the secret drawer and unlock it. There’s his will where he so generously
bestowed his fortune on my brothers and me.
I take another key from underneath the lip of his desk and open the bottom drawer. I lock it and
leave the will there, ready for business.
There’s no need for the whole world to know our secret hiding place when time comes to meet in
here. Though the document has been signed and looked over, it’s still important to have it.
I stand up and look out the historical arched, iron-framed window and look outside at the beautiful
country grounds. It really is spectacular here, and I understand why my father spent so much time away
from the city. He loved it out here, and I’m beginning to love it as well. But what makes it worth it is Meg.
And I’ve officially unbound her from her duties.
To my extreme happiness, I see her walking out to the side of the pool in her little turquoise bikini.
I knew her body was exceptional, but I had no idea it was perfect.
Her body is defined and lean, not too muscular. I think she looks like a goddamn dancer or model
or something of which I can’t compare. Her beauty is just radiant.
I watch her brown hair flow lightly in the slight wind and her heart-shaped ass as she arranges
herself by the pool.
There’s something voyeuristic and thrilling about watching her from a distance.
I could get used to this view, and then I remind myself that monogamy is a dangerous game, one of
which I don’t partake.
Meg is a fling. Meg is not permanent. And yet I feel possessive of her already.
Chapter 21

Meg


I pour warm suntan oil over my body and rub it into my smooth skin.
It’s a blessing to have this opportunity to relax. I’ve been working too damn hard.
I’m surprised with Matt’s offer to have me stay here as a house guest. It means that things have
definitely moved between me and the guys from the realm of business to pleasure.
Having this time to sit by the pool feels absolutely incredible. I’ve never worked so hard in my life
as I have since I’ve been out here at the mansion. Though I’m sure Mrs. Simmons is wondering what
makes me so special that I’m off the hook and I don’t have to answer to her anymore, none of it matters
now.
All I care about is sitting by this pool and soaking up the sun’s rays. I tip my head back and allow
the warmth to penetrate my body. With each passing minute, I feel more and more in my element. This sure
beats being on my knees, scrubbing floors, and all manner of other things.
I idly check my phone and see that, of course, Simon has been texting me. I knew that my time here
would be littered with interruptions from him, but it’s getting out of control.
You better not be having the time of your life over there, Meg. I set this up for a reason. And I
can take it away just as fast. Find me the will, dig up some dirt, or else…he writes.
His texts have become basically threatening now, and there is no pretense around the fact that we
ever dated. I think he and I both know this thing is over. If he doesn’t know it, then he’s very daft.
I’m so sick of him talking to me like this. But as I sit under the sun by the pool, I think that soon, I
can be far away under the sun by the pool on some island. The thought makes me smile. Simon won’t
know what hit him once I escape.
Still, I’m in a precarious position. I have to worry about whether Simon will rear his ugly head and
break my persona or not. He could destroy everything I’ve built with these guys in an instant.
I attempt to soak up the sun and to ignore these thoughts about Simon. I don’t want to spy on the
guys. I’m pretty much over this entire deal. I’m starting to care for these men and I definitely don’t want to
betray them.
But even as I try to relax, I know that I need to at least try to find the will one more time. What
could it hurt if Simon has a copy of it? As far as I know, everything’s been signed and the fortune is firmly
in the hands of the Belcourt brothers.
I check my watch and see that I have enough time to get ready for my date, and also to maybe sweep
over the library one final time.
 I reluctantly get up and out of the sun and put on my kimono to cover myself.
I walk as stealthily as possible in my bare feet to the large, formal library.
Before I get there, I see Matt leaving the room. It’s a close call, though if he saw me, I could just
say I was looking for him.
Once the coast is clear, I go into the beautiful, commanding two-story room.
I look around for random documents on file cabinets or anyplace where the will could be. At
George Belcourt’s desk, I check all the drawers and cubbies once again. Only this time do I notice that the
bottom left drawer is locked.
It definitely wasn’t like that before. I remember going through the contents of that drawer. There
was no will, just a mess of paperwork. But it’s locked now and that makes me feel like at last, I’ve found
the missing paper.
The problem is I don’t have a key. I sort through the other drawers and in all nooks and crannies,
but the key is absent.
Then, I run my fingers underneath the desk and find the key magnetically placed there.
Success!
I take the key and it easily slips into the lock on the drawer. Just my luck. I open it and see the will.
It’s the only document in there. It’s practically smiling at me. I’ve been looking for this thing for so long
and finally, I have it.
I lay out the sheets of paper evenly on the desk and then take out my phone to snap a couple of
pictures. This should be enough information for Simon to hopefully get him off my back.
Once I have the pictures, I slip the document back into its hiding place and lock it. I place the key
back to where I found it and delightfully skip out of the library.
This picture will buy me some time—and hopefully my freedom. What more could Simon want
from me?
I don’t know what he intends to do with the document, because from what I can see, it clearly states
that the four Belcourt brothers are George’s sole heirs. How can Simon dispute that?
Or maybe I’m just telling myself this so I don’t feel so guilty about the betrayal. It makes me feel
better to know that all I did was take a picture. And hopefully, the picture can do no harm to anyone.
Hopefully, Simon is just out of his mind in thinking he has a shot at stealing the fortune.
And internally to myself, I think about how lucky George Belcourt was not to have married Simon’s
mother. Had that been the case, all of the money would’ve gone to her and to Simon and they’re truly
horrendous people.
I see Simon’s frustration at having been so close to billions of dollars, and it makes me chuckle.
I don’t think Simon can amend the will in any way. And sending a sending simple picture shouldn’t
be a big deal, right?
I’m trying to talk myself out of my guilt. If sending the picture is not such a big deal, then why do I
feel so awful about doing it?
My stomach is in knots, and I think I’m the worst person in the world. Here I have these wonderful
men wining and dining me, taking me shopping, and making sure every moment together counts—and what
do I give them as repayment?
I’m helping this vile person, Simon, to undermine the inheritance. It just isn’t right.
And so before I send the pictures to Simon, I decide to hold back for just a little bit to think about
the situation.
Luckily for me, having the document is enough to make me happy so that I can put Simon out of my
mind and begin focusing on Matt. I go to my room and take my time getting ready.
I put on a long, flowing, strapless black dress. I do Matt the favor of not wearing one of the
garments that Ian bought for me. I clip my hair up at the sides and carefully go about applying my makeup.
I have no idea where we’re going tonight, but I’m betting it’s somewhere fancy. And I’d rather be
too dressed up than underdressed. That’s my general rule of thumb.
I put on a full smoky eye and toss my hair with some texturizing spray.
I look at my reflection in the mirror. I’m happy to be in this position. I have four brothers all
competing for my attention. While choosing one of them will be hard, being with all of them is easy.
Unfortunately for me, one isn’t even a card. I’m going to have to leave this place and all of them at some
point.
But easy is what I need right now. I need spontaneous, in the moment, and fun. Nobody knows that
I’m planning to make my great escape to an island paradise somewhere. It will be hard to leave the men
behind, but I have to get out of here. I don’t want Simon to ever find me.
Besides, I don’t think these guys are serious about me. They’re not used to being with one woman
in a monogamous relationship, and I can tell that I can’t change any of their minds. For the time being,
we’re having fun and I need to just appreciate that.
And tonight with Matt will definitely be fun. I close my eyes for a second and just try to remember
the feeling of him pressing me up against the wall in the stairwell. His giant cock was throbbing just for
me. I imagine his lips pressed against my own and how good he tastes. I imagine his dark hair and his
dark features and I start to get hot just thinking about him.
Just then, there’s a knock at my door. I assume it’s Matt so I straighten my outfit and go to answer it.
But as I open the door, the person I see is not who I expected.
“Hi, Evan.”
Chapter 22

Evan


I’ve just seen Meg coming out of the library, wearing nothing but a bikini and a little silk kimono.
What is that minx up to?
She obviously wasn’t in there to grab a book because she came out empty-handed. My mind
ventures to find a guess as to what’s going on with her. I finally determine that Mrs. Simmons must’ve sent
her in there for something. It still doesn’t make sense as to why she was wearing a bikini, so I decide to
give her a moment and then go to her room.
She obviously feels comfortable enough in the mansion to move in and out of the rooms freely. I
want that for her. I find myself wanting her to think of this place as her home.
Mrs. Simmons has likely had her cleaning and organizing in the library. In truth, I have Mrs.
Simmons to thank for bringing Meg into my life. She hired this ethereal butterfly—and for that, she should
be given a raise.
I knock gently on the door, my heart beating a little faster knowing I’ll see her soon. I haven’t even
fucked her yet and she’s got me feeling this way. What is her magic potion? What spell does she cast to
have this effect on men?
“Hi, Evan.”
She seems surprised yet happy to see me. She’s also out of her bikini and wearing a nice dress. She
looks preened and primped and ready to go.
“Meg,” I kiss her cheek. “You’re so dressed up. You look elegant.”
She looks down at her dress and says, “Oh, well Matt asked me out for tonight. Did you know he
wants me to stay here as a house guest and quit working as a maid?”
Indeed, I didn’t. That was very slick of Matt. I was thinking of having the same thing arranged, but
it looks like he beat me to the punch. I don’t blame him. I’ve always thought Meg should stay here as our
guest. I want her to be happy and not have to work.
So I’m glad that he did what he did, but I have more questions now. While Meg is dressed up now,
why was she in the library in a bikini if she’s no longer working for Mrs. Simmons here in the mansion?
None of it makes sense.
“May I come in?” I ask.
She opens the door for me and I walk into her well-lit and decorated room. The designers did a
good job in here. I walk to the window and look out at the view. It’s expansive. All angles from inside the
mansion are good angles considering we own the expanse of properties surrounding it.
 This mansion is absolutely gorgeous. Every single room is impeccable. I’m especially glad that
Meg’s room is so nice. She deserves the best.
I take a seat on her bed and vaguely think of fucking her right here and now. Forget all this chivalry
bullshit. I’m tired of waiting, and once she has a taste of me, she’ll only want more.
I motion for her to come join me. She sits next to me, close. I can smell her fragrant perfume and
whatever she’s got on her hair.
I’m aroused and it’s evident from the bulge in my pants.
She gives it a sideways glance and I pull her in for a kiss, knowing full well how badly she wants
it.
I’ve already waited this long, though. I might as well wait a little longer for a special moment to
claim Meg rather than right before her date with my brother.
“So, you’re dressed up to go out with my brother, huh?”
She shrugs and I know she doesn’t want to mention it. She’s pretty good in keeping us all separate,
though I have no idea how she does it. We’re infamously known as being too much for one woman. That’s
why it’s going to be important for her to choose just one of us.
“You look gorgeous,” I say, releasing her a little bit from my grasp.
“Well, I don’t want to rub it in…but Matt has made plans for us. I don’t know what the plans are,
but I decided to get dressed up just in case we go somewhere nice,” she says.
I sigh regretfully and take in the fact that my brother is taking Meg out. Now it’s three against one.
I’m the only one to not have had her. I was so close to cementing things in the garden, if only Ian hadn’t
interrupted us.
But I have to bide my time. I care about Meg, and it absolutely doesn’t matter who gets to her first.
What matters is the quality of her experience. I’m trying to build a relationship of trust.
It occurs to me that none of us really know very much about Meg. I know she went to Dartmouth
College, but that’s about it. I don’t know what this side of me is, wanting to know more about her, but I
can’t help but feel a tad bit protective of her.
“Are you jealous?” she asks. “I really don’t want you to be jealous or anything, Evan. I want you to
know that I care about you so much. I know it might be weird me dating all of you guys, but I just can’t
figure it out right now. I can’t pick one of you to be with.”
Her words make total sense to me. We have to put her in an unusual position, and I wouldn’t expect
her to make a decision now anyway. I don’t want to rush Meg or to pressure her. But God, I wish it was
me taking her out tonight and not my fucking lucky brother.
I will have her, but I’m gonna have to wait for the moment.
“It’s okay, Meg. I’m used to having this kind of competition with my brothers. I just want you to
know that you’re special. You stand out. It’s not like all the other women we’ve had in the past. At least to
me, you mean something more than that.”
 Her eyes well up with tears and she says, “Thank you, Evan. You don’t know how much that means
to me. The fact that you’re not gonna rush me into doing something is just perfect. I already have enough
problems in my life.”
Problems in her life? I had no idea Meg was dealing with anything outside of this mansion. Now, I
feel possessive enough to want to ask her exactly what she’s referring to.
“What do you mean? What problems, Meg? Tell me,” I say more firmly that I intended.
She looks up into my eyes, and for a moment I think she’s wondering whether or not to tell me the
truth.
“Please trust me, Meg. You can tell me anything.”
I wipe the tears that are staining her cheeks.
“Alright, Evan. I feel like I can talk to you. You’ve been there for me, and so I guess I can tell you
the truth—which is that I’m dealing with my ex-boyfriend. He’s been bothering me a lot and he doesn’t
seem to want to let go of the relationship.”
This information is news to me. I knew she had a boyfriend, but I thought he was pretty much out of
the picture. The fact that he’s bothering her makes me feel enraged and it makes me feel like I want to go
beat the shit out of him.
“What do you mean bothering you? I thought you were done with him, Meg. What’s going on?”
Her tears turn from tears of happiness to tears of sadness. I watch them stream down her face and I
try to soothe her, but it’s hard when I don’t know the full story.
“It’s just been a lot to handle. I care about you guys so much and yet I have this ex of mine bothering
me. I mean technically, we were still in a relationship when I came to this mansion. But he’s a jerk, an
asshole. He’s been very verbally abusive to me and I just want to get out. He’s got me under his thumb,
and I’m afraid I can never get away from him,” she says.
I’m absolutely stunned by this. The fact that someone is terrorizing Meg makes me so unhappy. I’ll
figure out a way to help her.
I put my arm around her and squeeze her tightly, “You’re with us now, Meg. It’s safe here.”
Now I wish like hell it was me going on this date and not my brother. I realize there is more to Meg
than meets the eye. She has a lot of layers that I was previously unaware of. Now I’m dying to get to the
truth, to the core of her being. And more than that, it’s essential for me to become the only man in her life
so that I can protect her.
I hold her in my arms and she cries a little bit more before breaking away. I want to ask her more
questions and to unearth who this boyfriend or ex-boyfriend is.
“I have to go,” she says, wiping tears from her face. “I’m supposed to meet Matt, and now I look
like this.”
She gestures to her face which I think looks beautiful, mascara stains and all.
She goes to her vanity and cleans up her face. I watch in admiration, wondering how girls can have
so many products.
Meg is not mine, and that fact doesn’t allude me for a second. I might be in her life, but I’m not her
entire life—yet. That’s my focus. I want Meg’s world to revolve around me. Only then will I be happy.
And so it’s hard to say goodbye and to know that she’s going out with my brother.
It fucking kills me, but I watch her walk out the door.
Chapter 23

Matt


I see her through the window before I see her in person.
She looks stunning in a flowing, strapless black dress. This girl could wear a potato sack and I
would still desire her. That’s how fucking gorgeous she is.
I’m so excited to finally have my night with Meg. It’s the perfect plan to take her out of the house,
so that I’m the only brother she has to focus on.
Besides, she needs to be spoiled a little bit. She’s been working too hard for us.
I stand outside and watch her come down through the window. She looks radiant, and I’m glad that I
dressed up in a nice Armani shirt and slacks. The limo driver hands me the dozen of roses I had him buy
for her.
She opens the door and I’m pleased to see her smiling face.
“Matt!” she exclaims. “You look incredible! So hot.”
“Me? You’re the one that looks incredible,” I say, skimming my hand along her waist to bring her in
towards me for a kiss.
Her warm mouth tastes like peppermint and I can smell the fragrant perfume on her body. Megan is
truly the most elegant woman I’ve ever met, and I don’t doubt my plan for a second. She has an array of
brothers to choose from, and I need to make sure I’m at the forefront of her thoughts. There’s no way I’m
gonna let her go out of my life without tasting her in every way.
“You ready?” I ask her, imagining what she looks like underneath that dress.
“Yes,” she says as I take her hand and lead her into the limousine.
I hand the roses to her and she smells them gratefully.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says.
“I wanted to,” I say, sliding in next to her.
The driver takes off and I’m happy to see the mansion go. It’s the one time in my life that I actually
want to get away from the place I call home. I’m just not willing to share Meg with my brothers anymore.
Tonight, I need to make a lasting impression on her—and that’s exactly what I intend to do.
“Champagne?” I say, holding up a bottle of Dom.
“Of course,” she replies.
I pour us both a couple of glasses in crystal champagne flutes and we clink our glasses.
“To you,” I say, looking intently into her eyes.
For a second, we’re connected. For a second, we both know that we’re connected.
 There’s this unspoken sexual tension going on between us that will likely get hotter throughout the
night.
She sips her champagne, and I look at her profile just thinking how lucky I am. I don’t know how
Meg walked into our lives but I have no intention of ever letting her go.
“So, where are we going?” she asks.
“That’s a surprise for you to find out,” I say.
She relaxes into the leather seat and is content just to be whisked away.
And then something seems to startle her and she says, “Well, are we going very far away from the
mansion?”
“Why?” I ask. “What does it matter how far away we go?”
She stumbles over her words a little bit and says, “It...doesn’t. It’s fine.”
Her nervous reaction makes me wonder what’s up. Meg should be happy to get away from that
place. It’s been her home and workplace for too long. Little does she know what I have in store for her
tonight.
“Just relax,” I say to her. “It won’t take very long to get to where we’re going.”
My words seem to soothe her anxiety, and she sips her champagne as she looks out the window.
I hold her hand, and for a moment we’re both feeling the heat that flies between us. There’s no
denying our connection, but what she doesn’t understand is that I have a suite at the Ritz Carlton booked
and ready for us to take advantage of. I’m going to wine and dine her, and then take her up to the room and
ravage her. This will be a night she’ll never forget.
“So, are you ready to get away from the house for a while?” I ask.
She looks at me with those big green eyes and it’s hard not to take her right here, right now. But I
hold back. I want things to be special with Meg. I want her to know she’s more important to me than a
one-night stand. How important, I’m not yet willing to quantify—but she’s rare. I’m sure of that.
“I am. But I love the mansion. It’s very beautiful and it’s starting to feel like home,” she says.
“That’s good,” I say.
Inside, I’m wondering with jealousy what she’s experienced with my other brothers. We’ve always
competed for women, and it’s always been sort of a game. But something about Meg makes me feel like
this is real life and that I can’t mess it up.
We drive for a while and eventually get to our destination. She looks knowingly at the Ritz Carlton
and seems pleased that we’re here.
They let us in the gates, and the familiar valet offers to park the limousine to which my driver says
no.
“We’ll be staying the night,” I say to both the valet and the limo driver.
The driver speeds off and Meg is left holding the roses in her arms. She looks beautiful, cast
against the dusky light of the setting sun.
 We walk into the Ritz and everybody knows who I am. It’s part of the territory that comes with
being a Belcourt brother. I’m used to the attention, but tonight I also know that the eyes following us are
on Meg. Who could resist looking at her? She’s sophisticated, classy, and gorgeous.
I don’t mind sharing the limelight with her. She deserves every inch of praise that she gets in life.
And it makes me feel proud walking with her, someone so obviously at ease in her own skin.
The hostess leads us straight away to our VIP table in the back.
“It’s so night nice to see you again, Mr. Knight,” she says, looking at me with hungry eyes.
Meg doesn’t know that I slept with the hostess and most of the waitresses here. When you get out
into the country, there are fewer places to meet people, and so I’ve run into many one night stands after the
fact and it’s always awkward. I don’t plan on telling this to Meg. She knows that I’m a playboy, so there’s
no point rubbing it in.
“You too, Whitney. It’s nice to be back at the Ritz,” I say.
Meg shoots me a knowing look, and I can tell she understands that something’s happened between
me and this hostess. She’s not dumb. But at the same time, she’s nice enough not to bring it up or to break
my balls over the fact that I know this woman.
Soon we’re seated at our table, and the hostess has arranged for the flowers to be taken up to the
room.
The waiter approaches us and his eyes are all over Meg. It causes me to feel possessive of her, and
I wonder where this feeling is coming from. I normally don’t care so much about the women I date, but
there’s definitely something different about Meg.
“May I take your drink order?” he says.
Meg looks over the cocktail menu. “What would you suggest?”
He’s happy to inform her and leans in a little too close, showing her his favorite drink on the menu.
“If you like wine, this is our menu. I would recommend the vintage Pinot Noir,” he says, not taking
his eyes off of her.
“Great, we’ll have two glasses of that,” I say, trying to take charge of the situation.
I definitely don’t need some waiter trying to spoil my evening with Meg. The fact that I feel like
this is disrupting me enough.
“So,” she says, leaning into me. “Tell me more about yourself. I know you went to an Ivy League
school, but beyond that, we haven’t had a chance to talk very much.”
I smile at her, “Well, there’s not much to say. I’m an engineer, developing new space engine
technology. I’ve traveled a lot around the world, and I love to climb mountains.”
“Really?” she says, looking interested. “What’s your favorite place you’ve travel to?”
“Hands down, New Zealand. It’s the best hiking place in the world. The paths are perfectly
maintained through lush forest and there’s a real sense of outdoor culture there.”
“I’ve always wanted to go there,” she replies.
 “Well, I can take you some time.”
She blushes and I enjoy watching the crimson flush on her face.
The waiter arrives with our wine. He has the good sense enough to bring an entire bottle. I order
some of their best appetizers, and Meg and I settle into an evening of getting to know each other.
She tells me about her childhood and her upbringing. She tells me about her time at Dartmouth
College. And then she lets me know that she’s been in a relationship with someone who’s not so great.
Again, anger and fury flow through my veins at the thought of her being with another man and of him
mistreating her in any way, but I listen. If Meg was mine, I’d put her on a pedestal and make sure she
knew how valuable she is. Then, I’d fuck her into oblivion on a daily basis so that’d she’d never forget
the feeling of me inside of her.
As I listen to her talking about her life, I become more aware of the fact that Meg has many layers.
She’s more than just a pretty face. She’s an intellectual being who has a lot of fascinating details to share
about her life.
It sounds to me like the boyfriend is pretty much out of the picture, but I feel like I could kill him for
not being perfect to Meg. She deserves only the best.
We drink and talk and the evening goes by in a flash. I lean in to kiss her, and she returns the
affection.
Then I say, “Do you want to go upstairs and make use of the room that I’ve arranged? It will be
very worth your while.”
Her eyes darken with a certain amount of wildness I’ve never seen before, and I can tell she’s
ready to experience all of me.
She nods her head and doesn’t say anything, but I take that as my cue. I grab her hand and beckon
her to follow me.
We walk through the restaurant and the lounge, through the beautifully maintained lobby, into the
elevator.
Once inside, I take her in my arms and kiss her deeply. This is just the beginning of our night, and I
plan on making it memorable.
Chapter 24

Meg


Finally, I’m with Matt.
I’ve wanted him since the day I arrived at the mansion, and now he’s all mine.
My heart flutters just thinking of what will happen.
He makes me nervous. A good nervous, but nervous all the same.
I don’t know how all of this will go, or what I’m supposed to expect, but I don’t care. Well, I do.
But I’m not afraid, and I don’t have any reason to hesitate.
The elevator doors shut and we have a long ride to the top.
Matt pushes me gently against the elevator wall and presses his body into mine. His tall stature, his
cologne rolling aromatically from his body, and his flawless style and grooming leave me so hot and
bothered at the very sight of him. There’s no denying he’s a gorgeous man, but he and his brothers all are
damn beautiful.
He raises his hands slowly and rests them along the outside of my neck. I can feel my heartbeat in
my throat. I can’t lie, I’m full of adrenaline. The sheer and total excitement I experience by this man’s
touch alone is enough to send me into cardiac arrest.
He pushes his hands down against my skin, massaging my shoulders to help loosen me up, to help
me let go. He can sense my nerves, my tension, and is doing a fine job helping me forget.
“Take a deep breath,” Matt insists, wrapping me in his embrace.
I do as he requests. If he’s anything like his brothers, he’ll appreciate that, and I’m all for pleasing
him.
He’s so attentive and has given me so much to connect with him on. I have a hard time holding back
right now. I’m hesitant, and yet so very eager.
“I...I know what might loosen me up,” I suggest playfully and wink at him, shifting the focus of the
night from my nerves to what we both want to happen.
“And what is that, love?” he asks.
He knows, he just wants me to say it.
He wants me to admit to him and myself that I want him.
My chest is heavy and my stomach is full of fluttering. Just as I start to feel a rush, Matt pulls my
body tight against his own. He wraps a hand behind my head and curls his fingers against the base of my
skull and forces my face close to his.
The numbers start to light up as we inch closer to our floor, but he doesn’t seem concerned.
 He holds me in place for a moment, letting our breath linger together in front of our faces. I fight
every urge I have to steal a kiss from him right then. Honestly, it’s harder than I thought it could be.
Everything about him is hard to resist.
“I want you, Matt. I’ve wanted you forever,” I admit. “Let’s get to know each other even more,” I
suggest.
I’m feeling a little more ballsy than usual and I’m having a bit of fun just...teasing him.
I look up to Matt’s eyes and can trace a sense of approval in them. I smile at him and he gives in, quickly
pushing our lips together and holding our kiss. I close my eyes and melt into his embrace as he
demonstrates his passion for me. I feel like I’m flying.
At last, I can taste him. His hot lips press against my own and I swear I might come just from the
embrace.
I snap back to reality when Matt pulls his lips away from mine, and our silence is broken.
“On your knees,” he bellows.
His tone is like nothing I’ve ever heard from him.
I don’t really even know how to respond, other than to do exactly what he wants.
“Right here? In the elevator?” I ask, thinking my teasing might’ve backfired.
Before I know it, I’m down on my knees and praying that no one comes in. His bulge is full in his
trousers, leaving nothing to anyone’s imagination. I salivate and stare hungrily at his constrained cock.
I wait patiently for him to make a move. I want to rip his cock out right there and swallow it down
my throat and hear him moan for me. But I know better.
Matt unbuckles and unzips his pants. The anticipation of watching that zipper go down is enough to
drive me wild. A cock I’ve never seen before, a cock I’ve been aching to suck...it gets me so worked up
just thinking about it. I’m more aroused than I could ever imagine.
He moves his hands to his hips. I take his cock out and just stare at it for a moment. It’s big. It’s
wide. And it’s gonna be the death of me, I can tell. I knew he’d be packing, but this is insane.
Fully exposed in front of me—and at full attention—is Matt’s long, thick cock. I lose all of my
control and do what I’ve been craving. I suck the tip, milking it with my mouth, and then I go to town
along his shaft. It’s too big to take all at once, but that doesn’t mean I don’t try.
“Mmmm. Holy shit, girl,” I hear Matt moan in approval. “Get it nice and slick.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I’m watching the numbers. The elevator is ascending, but I keep going.
I lick his cock up and down, coating it with my spit. Matt rests his hand on the back of my head.
His touch is so different from the other brothers I’ve spent quality time with. It's less...forceful, I
notice. As I analyze his hand placement, I also continue to suck and spit onto his cock. I bob my head back
and forth over it and and bask in the taste of his skin.
It’s all happening so quickly...yet so very slow.
The feeling of his cock sliding in and out against my lips has me worked up. I part my legs to
stabilize myself, and as I suck his cock I start humping the air, trying to get any and all friction from my
panties to graze against my clit.
Being here all night with him, picking up on his sexy comments over dinner, just fantasizing about
this in my mind all night, and it’s all coming to fruition.
Matt is pleased with me and my advances. His fingers scratch my scalp gently and I feel like a little
pet being rewarded with affection.
“Stand up,” Matt orders, zipping his pants and putting away that fucking perfect cock.
His words echo through me. I get my feet under me and raise myself back up.
Then he slings me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Fuck.
And just then, as I’m draped over his arm, the elevator pings.
The doors open to an empty hallway and I sigh a breath of relief.
He leads me to the hotel suite and I’m aching for more. I know he’ll deliver.
I feel like I’m his possession for the night and that makes me quake. My fantasies collide with
reality.
It’s too good to be true, isn’t it?
My heart is racing. I’m so on edge with anticipation.
He takes me into the suite and everything’s perfect—glamorous, even. He throws me up against the
wall and continues his efforts.
“Arch your back,” he growls against my neck. “And turn around.”
His cock is hard, straining against his pants and I’m dying to unleash it.
I stare at him deeply in the eyes and the emotion behind it takes me off guard. He’s too intense. I
turn away first, facing the wall like he said.
I push my breasts up against the elegant wallpaper and try to control my breathing. I arch my back
like a good girl, and soon Matt grabs my tits from behind with his large hands. He caresses them gently,
and slowly becomes more forceful.
I really love when I’m manhandled. The primal feeling of it all really turns me on, and boy is that
the case here. My pussy’s wet and I’m dying for some attention down there.
His cock is hard-pressed against my ass and I wish he’d just tear through the seam of my dress and
take me right here.
“Do you feel it baby?” he whispers harshly into my ear.
“Yes,” I pant, still up against the wall.
His cock is hard against my ass and it’s igniting all kinds of deep-rooted fantasies and feelings
within me.
Fuck, I need his cock.
After cupping and massaging my breasts, Matt pulls my straps down to my dress. My breasts pop
out as my dress falls to my torso.
I can tell he wants to taste them.
He spins me around and sucks my tits like it’s his deepest craving. I moan and sigh, unable to keep
up with the building rush of emotions.
He traces my areolas and gently flicks up at my nipples. Before I know it, he’s pinching and biting
them.
It’s gentle at first, but becomes much more pressured and an entirely different sensation takes over.
I moan and fall forward slightly, unexpectedly, as my knees become weak.
Matt smirks at me. I ease my head back and smile at him playfully. He brings me against the bed
and bends me over as he searches the room for something in particular. I’m not sure what, but he’s
definitely on a mission.
“Hm,” he admits. I hear him slide his belt from the loops of his pants. “This will do,” he says,
snapping the leather against itself.
He places it down next to me, and brings his arms around my waist, embracing me to reassure me. I
lean into the bed and stare at the belt. I feel scared of what he might do, but oddly excited. Fears mixes
with adrenaline and I’m not sure what it is I desire anymore.
He sensually grasps my breasts again before taking the belt and running it along my bare-skinned
back. The feeling of the leather is intimidating, but thrilling.
I think I love it. I fucking love it.
I can take whatever he has. Instinctively, I know he won’t he push me too far...right?
I’m ready for more, even. I feel drunk on the endorphins now coursing through my body. Matt gives
a gentle slap of the leather against my ass. I writhe in pleasure. I’m so fucking wet and I need him to do
that again, but this time to my bare ass.
He takes a step back from me. He sees me squirming ​and shifting my hips around and picks up on
my incredible arousal. I peer back and can see his darkened eyes on me. Again, I turn away, unable to
meet him in the eyes. His cock is rock hard and throbbing for me against his pants.
I want it.
He moves towards me and whispers in my ear, with warm breath rolling onto my bare neck,
“You’re mine tonight.”
I’m so worked up that I don’t even know what to say or do to respond. I can just feel my pussy lips
aching and my clit throbbing without even having been touched. Everything is heightened.
Matt wraps his arms around my narrow waist and lifts me up. He holds me in his arms for a
moment and just looks at me, intently, and with lust.
He places me down on the soft duvet and I grip the bedding, trying to find a hold on something to
bring me back down to earth.
A small part of me wants him to slap that belt against me and show me his true kinky side, but it’s
too soon to know that’s not already in his cards.
He brings his hands between my closed legs, running his fingers just inside my inner thighs and
grazing right above my clit. I roll my eyes, unable to control my ache and needing some way to express it.
Matt’s teasing is too much, but just enough all at once.
I can’t get enough of him.
Chapter 25

Matt


Meg’s splayed on the bed before me, my little feast.
God, how I’ve been waiting for this moment.
My fingers slide deep between her legs and part them forcefully. With her legs open to either side,
and with her butt cheeks showing off perfectly beneath her, I shove my face into her pussy.
She’s so fucking sweet, and her pussy is so wet, having waited all this while for my attention. Poor
baby was missing out on me. And, holy fuck, am I ready to give it to her.
Her excitement comes exposed by her ragged breathing when my tongue meets her clit. She props
herself up on her elbows and rests her body back against the king-sized bed.
Something about Meg is so different from the other women I’ve slept with.
She’s a breath of fresh air, and it’s so exhilarating. Opening up to her has been such a treat—and
now I get to enjoy dessert. And this hotel room just might be my favorite place to fuck.
Especially like this, and especially with Meg. The Ritz went above and beyond getting this place
together for the occasion.
There are rose petals thrown about, mood lighting with lots of candles, and chocolates and
champagne in multiple spots throughout our room. It pays to have connections.
As my tongue laps at her pussy, my hands wander up and down her magnificent thighs. Her back
arches, and she pushes her pussy further into my face as my fingers graze her skin.
After tracing the shape of her thighs, I push one finger against her tight little pussy, and without
pause, slide it inside of her.
Meg quivers with pleasure. Just how I like it. I hook my finger in a curved position and grind it
right against her soft, spongy G-spot as I make out with her pussy lips and clit.
I look up to get a glance of her face, and as I do, she throws her head back and wails as I suck on
her little clit and finger her faster. I slide in another finger and start pounding my knuckles against her
pelvis.
The force of my movements are making Meg’s entire body shake and quiver against my hand
involuntarily. I don’t relent. I know she’s close, and I would never turn back once she’s this far in.
I’m not that big of an asshole.
Her beautiful breasts begin bouncing up and down in sync with my hand’s rhythm, and her nipples
are so prominent that they stand out to me, looking from below.
“Oh, Matt, fuck, I’m gonna come on your face. Please don’t make me hold it in any longer,” she
begs.
Her words course through me, and my cock throbs hard in my pants. I tear my mouth from her clit.
“Come for me, baby. Do it.”
Promptly, before I even finish allowing her to release her sweet nectar all over my mouth, she
floods cum out onto my fingers and against my hand and wrist. I pull my fingers out of her as she gushes,
and my face sits right in the path of her cum, which squirts all over my fucking face.
I place my hands against her outer thighs and cup her ass and just hold on as she sprays her essence
towards me, basking in its delicious taste, knowing her desire is literally written on my face.
Her hips gyrate as her cum spills everywhere against me. She’s moaning loud and expressively,
even grabbing her breasts. It’s an amazing sight to have the pleasure to both witness and create.
As she descends from her climax, I bring my hands to her face and wipe my juices off my cheeks. I
slide my fingers into Meg’s mouth, one by one, and require her to lick each of them clean before pulling
them away.
“Good girl,” I tell her.
Her reaction to those words is so fucking cute. She fucking giggles.
I can tell she enjoys being the submissive one in bed, and when she begged me to let her come,
damn. I knew for sure that this is going to be a perfect match.
And now I know what to do next.
She’s going to be having the hardest time going back to the mansion when I’m finished with her
here. I might even be able to convince her to stay away—at least, that’s the hope.
“Thank you, Matthew,” she utters, using my full name without thought instead of my nickname.
It has a very adult ring to it, I think, and adds an entirely new element to our experience.
It’s clear she’s damn happy with my mouth and is rightfully grateful. I lean in and kiss her forehead.
On top of being dominant, it’s important to also be caring and reassuring. And besides, I could kiss
that beautiful face all day long.
I place my hands on her clavicle and trace her collarbone with my thumbs, my fingers traveling
along her shoulders. Soon, my hands are running down to her forearms. I’m just enjoying exploring every
inch of this immaculate body.
My hands find her wrists, and I caress from the top of her forearm down to her palms. I’m finding
every way I can to relax her body.
What I want to do to her is going to require sheer tranquility, and it’s my responsibility to deliver
that.
I grab her wrists tight and hold them together for a moment, establishing my next move and gauging
her limits. She’s not remotely fazed by my restraints, and I green light myself to go on.
I release her arms from my grasp and bring my hands to myself.
I reach over to the belt I’d set aside and deliver a devilish grin. The way she looks back at me with
those sultry fucking eyes is just going to get me every time. I’m pulsing and throbbing for her.
I want to take her any way I can, but I don’t dare skip over the important parts. The anticipation is
much too thrilling to spoil it all.
I bring her wrists together again, this time with my leather belt in my hands. I wrap it around her
wrists separately and pull it tightly together, forcing her wrists to touch and her skin to rub slightly against
the leather.
I wrap it around again for good measure before tying off the belt. It’s an appropriate makeshift
bondage tool.
Besides, I know she wants it. She’s dying to be my slave—and fuck yes, I’ll give it to her.
Her arms are now bound behind her, and I’m in full control. She could still fight me if she wanted
to, but let’s be honest…she doesn’t want to.
I caress her body up and down, just admiring her phenomenal curves. I start up at her hair, touching
the crown of her head, and run my hands to the back of her skull so I can massage her scalp. I’m gentle,
easy about it, but taking full note of the fear and trepidation in her eyes.
Then, just when I have her cooing and thinking all is well, I roughly grip my hand through her hair
and pull her face to mine, giving her a sudden, passionate, rough kiss.
When I pull away, my hands travel down to her neck and shoulders, and I feel her tremble at the
brush of my touch against my skin. It’s soft-hearted, but so controlled.
“I want to play in your world,” she admits.
“Oh, but we are, love,” I assure her.
“Don’t be silly, Matt. You’re taking things easy on me. Show me what you’ve got,” she eggs me on.
“Show me what Matthew is made of. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
“Are you really supposed to be giving me orders, missy?” I ask.
“No, sir.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Will you please give me a taste of what you’d like to do? I’m really dying to please you,” she
begs.
“What a great little slut you are,” I comment. “I suppose good sluts get rewarded, right?”
She nods her head. I stop for a moment and think about my next move. I step up and away from her
to get my gears turning and to find some inspiration from the room. She peers at me over her shoulder.
I order her to turn back around, “I didn’t tell you you could look, Meg.”
Immediately, she brings her head back to a forward-facing position and lies unmoving for me. I
fumble through my suitcase, dig through my clothes and belongings, knowing exactly what I want.
I find it after a moment and finally click the luggage closed. I walk back over, standing directly in
front of her.
She peers up at me, wondering what will come next. I open my hand to reveal a stress ball, offered
to me by one of my many clients. Her eyes widen, and she smiles. Then she promptly widens her jaw to
accept her makeshift ball gag.
I have this perfect little slut right in front of me, bound and gagged and ready to take my cock inside
of her. I push her down onto the bed and spread her sexy legs apart.
Seeing the anticipation in her eyes, we lock into a stare, and I know she wants to look away. I hold
her face straight and steady.
“Look at me,” I order, and so she does.
This is the grand moment she’s been waiting for. Fuck, if I’m honest, I’ve been waiting, too—I’ve
been waiting my entire life for a girl like Meg. She’s a fucking goddess, but she’s about to be brought
down off her pedestal by me.
She stares at me deeply, and a million emotions are being exchanged. I position myself against her
pussy, hold her hips, and don’t even blink.
You see, I refuse to miss a moment of her perfect reaction to when she finally gets to feel my cock
fulfilling her every need.
Chapter 26

Meg


His eyes darken and search into my soul.
He’s looking to consume me…and I can’t wait.
It’s what I’ve been nervously waiting for. It’s what I want, and yet I feel so very exposed.
He drags his massive, hard cock against my soaking pussy lips. I’ve been aching for his cock this
entire time, and I finally get to have it.
He’s been teasing me, exploring me, getting me all worked up over every touch so that this moment
will be incredible.
My eyes roll to the back of my head, and I nestle further into the bed. Matt grabs my hips with both
hands and thrusts his cock into my pussy. I take his full length and cry out in ecstasy as he fills me up.
“Is this what you’ve been waiting for, slut?”
His words reverberate through me as I fall back into a submissive state.
I nod my head furiously and whimper through the Styrofoam, doing my best to answer despite my
mouth being stuffed shut.
“Mmmm...that’s right. Take my thick cock in your tight little slut hole.”
Matt is intense in his own element but in a very good way. His cock throbs in my cunt, pulsing
against my pussy lips.
I don’t understand how I can get so wet from just his words. Matt’s so spectacular in every way
tonight, and right now is no fucking exception. I thrust my hips up and arch my back as much as I can,
taking his cock deep into my cunt.
The head of his man meat pushes solidly inside my pussy walls with each thrust, but I can’t help
wanting it even deeper. I raise my legs up, resting them on his shoulders. He holds them up as he shoves
into my pussy.
I scream out for him with a muffled but unmistakable pleasure. His cock pulses inside me,
stretching my hole temporarily. He moans for me, loving the feeling of my pussy wrapped around his
cock.
He pulls out of me and lifts me off the bed. I stand, patiently waiting for my next instruction, as Matt
climbs on top of the mattress and lies down.
He motions for me to climb onto him and, after I do, he spins me around, so my ass rests on his
chest.
Then, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me up on his groin. He spreads my legs, so I’m sitting
on top of him in a reverse cowgirl position.
My arms are still tied together behind me, so I require some guidance. It serves as another reminder
that while I might be on top, Matt is still in full control.
Thinking of his dominance makes me tremble—but I want it so very bad.
He pushes his cock back into me from behind and grabs my hips, rocking my cunt against him with
full force. His shaft is pressed against my G-spot, constantly rubbing against it and almost pushing me
over the edge.
“Oh, fuck,” I moan around the gag.
The stimulation of my G-spot is just too much. I’m fucking aching.
He thrusts into me from below, and the movement causes even more incredible sensations to flood
my body.
Matt forces my hips up and down on him, my knees helping me bounce against his cock. His hips
flex up with each downward motion of my own body. We meet forcefully in a steamy passionate union.
My orgasm is imminent and uncontrollable.
I throw my head back and spit out the ball gag to shout, “I’m gonna come! Please, sir. Don’t stop.
Oh, fuck.”
I bite my lip hard and try my best to cope with the intense pleasure since my hands aren’t available
to me. My fingers are laced together behind me, and that’s all I can do.
Matt, at last, says the words I’m dying to hear, “Okay, baby, ride that fucking cock. And I want you
to come.”
His breathing becomes heavy, and his fingers dig into my hips. As my cum floods out of my pussy,
Matt’s cock explodes inside of me, mixing our juices together and filling me completely.
It feels so fucking good.
“Oh, Matt, fuck! Baby, I’m coming so hard for your big fucking cock,” I moan.
My entire pelvis is throbbing and aching from my orgasm.
I try to keep our cum trapped in, enjoying the stretching, pulsing sensation, but I’m overwhelmed.
We sigh in unison, and our combined juices come rushing out with cataclysmic pressure. I moan and
whimper for him as I come down from my climax.
I look over my shoulder at Matt and see him panting as he admires my body, enjoying the view of
my restraints keeping me under his control. He lifts me off his cock and moves forward, allowing me to
sit up on the bed.
He’s still panting as he removes his belt from my wrists. My muscles appreciate the freedom, but
my brain tells me I could stay tied up forever…if it’s for Matt.
“Meg, you’re so fucking good,” he says to me, and I light up, excited by his words.
“Why? Why me?” I ask, curious. “And you were fucking wonderful yourself.”
“You’re speaking to me like we’re finished, slut,” Matt interjects.
 I feel a lump form in my throat. I don’t know how to respond. All I know is that my eyebrows are
arched so high and my face is so tight that I could pass for a vintage doll at a museum.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely up for more, but I can’t imagine what more can be out there for
us. How deep does this night—and his cock—go?
Before I can really even collect myself, Matt is off the bed and is fishing through my clothes that
have been thrown onto the floor. He finds the garment he had in mind, and approaches me.
He greets me with a kiss, and as our lips meet, I feel fabric pushed against my pussy lips. He
scoops up a helping of our cum and rubs it into the pair of panties in his hand.
As our lips part, he balls up the underwear and presses it against my lips. I open my mouth, and he
pushes every cum-covered thread of my thong between my teeth, the most drenched part sitting directly
onto my tongue.
Just like that, I’m soaking wet again—on top of already being drenched in our fluids.
My head is spinning, trying to process Matt and his different strain of dominance and how much I
love being his counterpart.
He lifts me to the edge of the bed, my legs now dangling. I rest my hands above my head and
shudder as he rubs his hands from my tits down to my inner thighs. Every nerve is ignited as his fingers
run along my skin.
When he greets my thighs, he grabs my legs and spreads them apart.
I’m not ready yet.
I’m still quaking from my last climax. I feel oversensitive. He’s too much to handle.
One more orgasm and I might not come back down to reality.
His hard cock presses against my cunt again, teasing my pussy lips with his sexy, thick man meat.
I tongue at the panties that have been shoved into my mouth in an attempt to moan. Matt looks up at
my face, smiling. He places his cock on my clit, getting it wet from all of our cum still sitting on my cunt.
Then, he pumps his cock in his hand, rubbing cum onto it and spitting on it for more lubrication.
The sight of him doing it makes me so hot—and yet his dominance is imminent. He won’t stop, I
know, until he’s satisfied that I’ve been tortured enough.
Matt raises my legs onto his chest, and my calves rest on his shoulders. He presses the head of his
cock against my asshole and gently eases himself inside of me.
Oh fuck, not this. I can’t take it.
My asshole twitches at first, but it relaxes as soon as he slides his massive cock into my hole.
“Good slut. Take my whole cock into your ass,” Matt commands. “Be my whore.”
He winks at me, and I breathe in deep as I try to relax my ass, but who could, with this giant cock
pressing in?
Slowly, he pushes the rest of himself inside me. I try to adjust, but nothing helps. I just have to
accept the situation, and soon, I’m moaning, purring for him.
 He’s all the way in, and I’m exhilarated.
He thrusts slowly at first as he watches my face and sees me really let go for him. I moan deep in
pleasure, my skin crawling with tingling sensations.
His thrusts grow stronger and faster. I feel like I’m fucking flying, so full of his cock. His face is
glistening with sweat, and his chest is tight, his breathing heavy from pounding his cock inside my ass.
He watches my face the entire time.
As his cock thrusts hard, in and out of my tight, little asshole, he puts his finger on my clit and starts
rubbing it in a fast, circular motion.
And that’s it.
I’m done for.
As I soar through my cloud of pleasure, I feel my clit throbbing hard under his finger. I start
thrusting my hips up as he pounds into me.
I hump my clit on his finger as he rubs it. I’m taken to new heights of wild abandon as I soar high
into an intense orgasm.
My cunt flexes so hard, and Matt’s cock is covered in fresh cum as it pumps in and out of my ass.
He thrusts his cock inside me a few more times before he pulls out. He strokes his cock and shoots
his cum all over my body.
The first load sprays on my face, covering every inch of my features. My eyelashes, my nose, my
cheeks, and my lips are all coated in his warm cum.
He expels another load onto my chest and stomach; it falls mostly on my breasts and even into my
belly button.
Finally, a few drips trickle out and land directly onto my pussy and my clit.
I like to be covered in his cum like the naughty little slut that I am.
I smile at him and lick my lips, my tongue getting a generous heap of cum that slides right in and
down to the back of my throat.
Yum. Matt’s essence is everything to me.
He’s staring down at me, proud of what he’s accomplished.
At last, I can meet his gaze without hiding. I don’t know what it is, but I feel connected to him now,
like we understand each other.
He gets off the bed, leaving me naked. By the light of the candles, my body glistens with his cum.
It’s romantic and sexy and fucking wild.
He’s not like every other dude, he’s…different.
“Now, how about I pop open this wine and pour you a glass while you freshen up in the shower?”
He kisses my head. “We can spend the rest of the night lying in bed together.”
“That sounds…good,” I respond.
I make my way to the shower, to the confines of the sumptuous bathroom. I turn the water on in the
tub and crawl in, my limbs and pussy sore from everything that has just occurred.
Fuck. I think I’m in deep with Matt. I think I like him more than I want to.
I dip my head under the water and try to shake the feelings, but they won’t go away.
Chapter 27

Ian


My brothers and I have gotten nowhere in determining who should have Meg.
One thing is clear: she can only have one of us—and yet it’s becoming increasingly obvious that
this is a hard choice for her to make.
We’ve always competed for women, but in the end, only one brother always wins. That’s how it
works. We can’t all have the same girl.
And frankly? I’m becoming a little disheartened by the whole process.
I’m ready to have Meg in my bed on a permanent basis. I want to experience her night after night.
The fact alone that I’m having these feelings is worrisome. Usually, I don’t care so much about one
woman, but there’s something about Meg that makes my cock hard just thinking of her.
Maybe it’s her long auburn hair. Maybe it’s her beautifully toned body. Maybe it’s the fact that her
hot lips around my cock can bring me to an orgasm in a second.
And now I watch her as she sunbathes by the pool. It’s one of my favorite things to do.
She’s taken to relaxing in the afternoon every day in the sunshine. I don’t blame her.
In fact, I wish I could join her. I wish I could be down there with her, stripping her bikini top off
with my teeth.
I ponder this tantalizing thought for a while before there’s a knock at the door.
I cross my extravagant room, though it’s more like an entire wing of the house. I open the door to
find my three brothers staring at me.
“Hey, what’s with the party?” I say, not at all surprised to see them.
I’ve known this day would come. The day of reckoning is finally upon us. It’s evident that each of
us is falling for Meg in different ways.
And there’s no way we can continue like this.
Evan walks in first like he owns the place. “We need to talk about Meg.”
Then, Paul enters. “I can’t take this anymore.”
And finally, Matt saunters in. “We have to resolve this…now.”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about, Matt. You were just with Meg the other night. She
should still be in your system,” I say with a tone of contempt.
“Oh, trust me, she’s still in my system,” he says haughtily, and I fume.
I can’t hide it from my voice. Envy and jealousy permeate my every thought as I look at my brothers
and realize they’re all as equally into Meg as I am.
 Damn my fate. Damn this family. For once, I want out.
I want my own life. I don’t want to have to compete with my brothers forever.
Meg should be all mine. She’s unique and rare, and I intend to keep her for myself.
Evan takes a seat in one of the tufted leather couches that adorn my space. He helps himself to some
brandy that’s on the coffee table. The other guys join him, and so do I.
“We have to hash this out,” I say, not wanting to admit that my feelings for Meg are growing.
“I agree,” Paul says. “It’s been ages since I’ve been with her, and I can’t go on like this. We need to
decide who gets to have her.”
Matt says, “I don’t think it’s that simple. I don’t think we can be the ones to decide. We have to
leave it up to her. She obviously has feelings for all of us, and I, for one, don’t want to pressure her in any
way.”
Ah, Matt, ever the voice of reason. Or maybe he’s still stuck on the scent of her sweet little pussy,
and he doesn’t want to ruffle any feathers.
Either way, I envy him. I envy the fact that he spent the night with her, and I didn’t. It’s been too
long since our little shopping trip, too long since I felt her velvety skin.
“I agree,” I say through gritted teeth. “She should feel no pressure whatsoever.”
“So, what about this,” Evan starts. “We can throw another party. It’s been a while since we’ve had
one, and I think that kind of environment will set her at ease. It will let her relax. And it’ll be a fun thing
for her to experience at the mansion. Maybe by that time, she’ll have made up her mind.”
None of us say anything.
“Besides,” he continues, “we’re known for throwing parties. We have to keep up appearances.”
Evan has a point, and I think it’s a great idea. Our father was always throwing the most extravagant
parties, and I have no intention of abandoning his family legacy.
I need it, too. I need the space to breathe, and I need a distraction from Meg, my growing obsession.
“A party? That’s really a good idea, Evan. I think it might be the perfect solution for us,” I say.
“You guys really think it’s that simple, huh?” Matt chimes in. “Well, it’s not. I’m telling you, her
feelings are deeper than all of that. I don’t think a party is just gonna make the problem go away.”
I pour myself a drink. “It may not solve everything, Matt, but it won’t hurt. Besides, it can help
distract Meg. Planning a party might be fun for her to do. She can get dressed up and everything.”
Secretly, I’m still seething with jealousy over the fact that my brothers have bedded Meg. All
except Evan, of course.
Fuck, I just want her to be mine. I just want to know when I can finally drag her to my bed and make
the magic happen all over again.
Inwardly, I curse my luck of having handsome brothers. They’re family, all right—but the
competition is stiff. I’m sick of fighting over every woman with them, especially this one.
“So, it’s settled then,” Paul says. “We’ll have a party. It won’t hurt anything, and it might help Meg
to soften up and feel more part of the family. I want her to feel comfortable here.”
Evan looks pleased that his idea is a success. None of us are going to argue with him about
throwing a party. It’s what we do best after all.
I’m all for the idea. The thought of having a diversion from my preoccupation with Meg is a luxury.
My brain and my heart are literally on fire for her at all times. I think of her constantly, and this
desire in the pit of my stomach just won’t go away.
I need out. I need my old carefree life back, where feelings weren’t a part of the equation, and I
wasn’t constantly lusting after just one woman.
I don’t know which one of us she’s going to choose, but I do know that the thought of living without
her is becoming more and more of an impossibility.
I’m starting to think Meg is more than just some girl to me. I’m starting to think she’s more than just
a fling.
I guess you can say I’m starting to develop an attachment to her—and it scares the living shit out of
me.
Of course, I say nothing of this to my brothers. I can only hope that my feelings run deeper than
theirs and that that makes Meg’s affections match my own.
I’m dying to know how she feels about me. I’m dying to settle this thing and to lock her down as my
girl.
“So, it’s settled then,” Evan says. “We’re gonna host a party, in honor of Meg. What better
housewarming present could we give her?”
I wonder what she’ll wear to the party. And it’s all I can do to maintain my hardening cock. Like I
said, every time I think about, her my passion gets aroused.
I fight the temptation to ignore my brothers and to go back to the window so I can observe her
tanning ritual.
Instead, I take my drink and offer up a cheer, “To Meg, and may the best man win.”
I down my drink quickly, which takes the edge off. “Shall we go and tell her the exciting news?” I
prompt.
“That’s a great idea.” Matt’s being suddenly agreeable. “We can bring her the news together.”
With that, I find myself following my brothers down to the pool. As much as I despise the situation,
I have to accept it. I’m starting to think I’ll accept anything as long as it means I can have Meg.
If she were mine, I’d undress her slowly and make love to her in the pool right now. Or in the hot
tub. Or anywhere, really.
If she were mine, I wouldn’t let her out of my sight, and I’d make sure she was submissive to the
only man worthy of her—me.
As it is, I resign myself to my fate and follow my brothers outside. This better end in my favor, or
there’ll be hell to pay.
Chapter 28

Meg


The warm sunlight floods my skin, and it feels fucking good.
I slather on the suntan oil and stretch out my tanned legs, thinking about the glorious position I’m in.
It’s not every day I find myself in a mansion far removed from the city, with four hot men at my
disposal.
I’m ready to take advantage of my situation and to quit ruminating over the past —and Simon.
I am so fucking ready to forget Simon. I can start a new life, maybe with a partner…or four.
As I sunbathe by the pool, like I’ve become accustomed to doing every day in the afternoon, I can
do nothing but think about the four glorious guys who’ve entered my life.
When I set out for the mansion, under the guise of a maid, I certainly never dreamed this could
happen. Now, I find myself living in a dream and not wanting to wreck it with the truth.
I can’t deny that my feelings are starting to grow for each man, but in very different ways. Their
personalities are so disparate—and yet they’re equally enticing and equally commanding.
It’s a fine position I find myself in, and there’s only one thing wrecking my happiness: Simon.
He bothers me with texts every night, not wanting to call and blow my cover. It’s all I can do to
fend him off.
I keep telling him I haven’t found the answer yet. I can sense his irritation, and I worry that one day,
it’ll be too late. Simon might do something, like show up and sabotage my cover.
Being with men, real men, makes me realize what I’ve been missing with Simon. For so long, my
sex life has been lacking. He’s such a lesser man compared to my four golden gods.
These brothers have made me understand the merits of being with someone so strong and in control.
These guys know exactly what to do with their 12-inch cocks, making me squirm with anticipation just
thinking about them.
I realize what I’ve been missing. I’ve had needs that were previously unfulfilled.
I’m finally getting my due, and I’m understanding what all the fuss is about. Sex can be amazing,
tantalizing, and torturous…with the right person.
I know now what it is I want and require in a partner—and it’s very, very different from what I’ve
known before.
The problem is, I desire them all equally. And knowing that they compete for women…I imagine
them fighting amongst themselves over who will have me.
To be honest, it makes me feel good and wanted, to be the interest of so many guys. But at the same
time, I know that I can’t let myself fall too hard—because all four of these guys are also players.
I’m not an idiot. I know their past. I’ve heard enough gossip about them on my first day here to last
a lifetime.
I hate to think of any of them having an interest in somebody other than me. I want them to desire
only me. I want to be the focal point of their attention forever.
This is all new territory for me. I see now that I never cared for Simon as much as I thought I did.
I’ve never wanted to have sex day in and day out with him.
Now, I feel like my sex drive is constant and on overtime, and it’s just glorious.
To have that persistent, aching need is wonderful, and now that I’ve discovered it, I have no
intention of going back.
I realize what I’ve been missing, and now I want to make up for lost time.
I put my sunglasses on and sip my virgin piña colada. It’s too early in the day, but the frozen drink
cools down my unfettered heart.
Just as I’m starting to bask in the rays of the sun overhead, I suddenly find myself in the shadows of
four hungry, hulking men with desire written all over their faces.
I take my sunglasses off and peer up at them. “Hi, guys. What’s shakin’?”
They look down on me, and from my perspective, it’s a very good view.
Matt says, “We have something to tell you, Meg.”
For a second, my heart skips a beat as I wonder if this is the moment I’ve been dreading.
Have they come here to tell me that my fun is over? Have they come to force me into a decision?
But then Ian says, “We’re planning a party.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “A party? That sounds fantastic.”
I put my shades back on and relax in my lounge chair. A party sounds great. A party means I won’t
have to make a decision just yet.
“It’s for you,” Paul says.
I look up at them. “For me? You can’t be serious. I don’t know what that means.”
Evan sits down on my lounge chair and starts to run his large hands over my legs. “We want to
make you feel special. We want you to know how obsessed we are with you. And we want you to feel like
a princess for a night.”
I look at him, charming as ever. Evan is the only guy I haven’t been with. I hope he’s about to
change my luck.
I’ve done nothing but crave for him from the moment we met. And now, with his hands on my legs,
I’m starting to feel wetter than ever.
“You mean, you guys think I deserve a party?” I ask timidly.
The idea had caught me off guard. I’ve never had a party thrown in my honor. Plus, I know the kind
of parties they hold—and they’re very expensive and very different from what I’m used to.
 I feel shy, knowing that they want to do this for me. I don’t know how to respond.
Ian sits down on the opposite side of my chair. He stares at me, and I realize that I hunger for him,
too. I ache for him, deep down inside.
It’s been a while since Ian and I fucked, but I haven’t forgotten for a second the magical afternoon
and evening we spent together. He was the first one to really spoil me, and I’ll never forget that.
“We want you to help us plan it. I think it would be fun to work together and to make the most
memorable party happen here. We’ll invite everyone. It will be unforgettable,” he says, looking at me
with eyes that are deep and full of passion.
“Really? Okay, that sounds like something I can get on board with. I happen to love planning a good
party.” I grin.
“Why don’t we make it a masked ball?” Paul says, pulling up a chair.
“Yes! That would be so hot and sexy. I can totally see you in a good mask,” I say, my eyes lingering
on Paul’s muscular body.
He’s the first one I slept with, and I feel like it’s been too long. I’m aching to have him between my
legs.
But of course, I don’t say this. He and I have an electrifying connection, and I know we both feel it.
Even when it’s unspoken, we both know that it’s there, that it’s real. And most of all, it’s
inescapable.
“So, think about it. We can get anything you want for the party. It’s yours. You can make of it what
you will,” Matt says.
I look at him, my most recent fuck. Matt was worth the wait. Ever since that day he kissed me at the
library, I’ve been burning for him.
And he definitely made it worth my while, taking me to the Ritz, planning such an amazing evening.
I remember him, the weight of his body dominating mine, and the feel of his oversized cock inside
of me…he was definitely memorable.
As I look at him and take in the feeling of being surrounded by these four men—these men I’m
starting to really care about—a feeling of nausea hits me.
I think about what I’ve done. I’ve betrayed them.
The memory of me taking a photo of their father’s will haunts me.
What the fuck am I doing? If I’m not careful, I could lose all this. This perfect world might shatter
because of what I’ve done.
Somehow, someway, I’ve got to get Simon off my back. I need to protect these guys from him.
I decide, in this instant, that there’s no way I’ll send him the picture of the will. I’ll destroy it.
Simon has been bugging me more than ever. He has no idea of the wonderful time I’ve been having
at the mansion. He has no idea that I’m staying as a guest, not as a maid.
And I have no intention of telling him.
 I want him out of my life for good. I’m sick of him ruining these moments where I just want to be
happy in the presence of my men.
He’s always lingering at the back of my mind, threatening to crush my newfound happiness.
I’ll have to tell Simon that there’s nothing to find. I’ll have to bow out of being his lapdog. I don’t
want to do anything sinister—and in fact, I refuse to.
I push these thoughts from my mind and attempt to have a nice afternoon by the pool with the guys. It
feels good to spend time with all of them together—maybe a little too good.
I wish it could be this way forever, that I could have this moment suspended in time.
They take off their shirts, and we all catch a few rays. It’s absolutely idyllic. I stretch my hands
behind my head and fall asleep in the afternoon sunlight.
My life is perfect—and I intend to keep it that way, no matter what the cost.
Chapter 29

Evan


The sun sets behind a building, and I’m reminded that I’m in New York, there’s no light here when
afternoon fades into evening. I can’t even see the setting sun.
I’m in the Big Apple, but I only have two things on my mind: the mansion and Meg.
I’ve been here for the past few days, wrapping up some business, and yet I can’t get her out of my
mind. I’m obsessed…possessed, you could say.
She’s been eating away at me from the first moment that we met. I find that I can think of nothing
else. There’s a connection between us, even when we’re not in the same town.
I know she feels it, too. What we have defies time and space.
But there’s something that’s eating away at me even more: the fact that I haven’t had Meg all to
myself.
It makes me seethe with jealousy, knowing that she has been with my brothers. I know I have to
change this soon.
I want to taste Meg’s pussy. I want to be inside her. And mostly, I want to hear her scream my name,
to have her scratch her nails down my back, and to feel my cock inside her cunt.
I’ll have her begging for it when all’s said and done. I’ll have her on her knees, aching for a taste of
me and only me.
I hate being away from her and from all the action at the mansion. I wonder what she’s doing every
second of every day. I wonder if any of my brothers have made another play for her.
I have a plan for tonight. I’m going to call her and see if she wants to join me for dinner in the city.
From there, I can take her to my penthouse and make love to her properly, finally.
“Ashley,” I call my assistant over the intercom. “Can you please clear my schedule for the rest of
the afternoon and for tonight? I have plans.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Reed. I’ll have everything taken care of. Have a nice night.”
“Thank you, Ashley. I’ll see you next week.”
I lean back into my oversized leather chair and think about what the fuck I’m doing.
Meg has been with each of my brothers, which makes jealousy roar throughout my body—and yet I
don’t want her any less.
In fact, I want her more and more each day, and it’s starting to become a problem.
I know that, in some way, I’m going to have to settle this tonight. I need to experience Meg. I need
to come inside of her, to finally let go of this tension thrumming inside my body.
 I decide that I better start arranging things before one of my brothers swoops in and takes her away
for the evening. I’m going to call her with the pretext of getting together to plan the party.
Of course, I’ve personally never planned a party before or taken any great interest in it. We leave
that to the party planners.
But from what I hear, Meg has taken the arrangements to the next level, working actively with the
party planners to execute her vision. If there’s an excuse to get close to Meg, I’ll take it, even if it means
feigning interest in the making of another mansion party.
I call the mansion to see if Meg is there.
One of the housekeepers answers, “Hello? May help you?”
“This is Evan Reed. Please put Meg on the line.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Reed. Just give me one second, and I’ll transfer you to her room.”
I wait for her to answer, and finally, I hear that breathy voice on the phone.
“Evan? Is that you? What are you doing? I thought you were in the city.”
“Hi, babe,” I say, my tone getting darker by the second. “I am in the city. But the thing is, you’re not.
I’d like you to come out here and join me for dinner. I can send the limo, and you can be here in two
hours.”
Instead of jumping up and down with glee at my proposal, I hear stiff silence on the phone. She says
nothing. It’s not every day that I ask a girl out, and I’m not used to this uncertain reaction.
“Well, what do you say?” I prompt.
She hesitates. “Oh, Evan, I’d love to. But I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I need to stay near the
mansion.”
Her words put me at a loss.
Doesn’t she still have an apartment in the city? Why is she so intent on staying at the mansion? It
doesn’t make sense.
“Meg, the mansion can do without you for a night. I want you to join me for dinner. Come on, I can
make reservations at the best restaurant in New York. We can discuss the upcoming party.”
I’m fully expecting her to give in. I’m expecting her to tell me that she can’t wait and that she’ll be
dressed and ready in an hour.
To my dismay, she says, “I’m sorry Evan. I just...can’t.”
With that she hangs up, and I am left in a semi-state of shock. Did I just get turned down for a date?
That’s never happened to me, not even once in my life.
In an instant, I decide that if Meg won’t come to me, I’ll go to her. I won’t be dismissed so easily. I
know there’s a reason she said no, but I can’t imagine what it is.
Why is she so averse to being in the city? Maybe the mansion life is just agreeing with her. Better
that be the case than her hating it.
Whatever her issue is, I will see her tonight. I can’t wait another second.
 And so, I pack a quick bag and head out the door. For once, I’m glad to say goodbye to the office
and to work. Usually, I would be staying late into the night, getting things done and making a fortune, but
it’s different with Meg in my life.
Suddenly, pleasure seems more important than business—and no, I can’t even believe I’m admitting
that to myself.
I drive my Porsche speedily down the streets of New York.
I can’t wait to get out of the city. Suddenly, it’s not so exciting here. The excitement lies wherever
Meg is.
Meg.
She ignites a passion in me that refuses to lie dormant.
Anytime I’m far away from her, I feel antsy. I feel like I should be with her all the time, like I
should have eyes on her in order to keep her safe.
And so I’m happy to have finished up my business in the city. There’s nothing I want more than to
be at my father’s country estate right now.
It doesn’t make sense, and it’s driving me fucking crazy. I haven’t even slept with her yet, and my
addiction to her is already growing.
I keep telling myself that maybe she’ll be horrible in bed. Maybe we’ll have no sexual chemistry,
and then I’ll be off the hook and won’t have to feel things this deeply about one woman anymore.
But at the back of my mind, and deep down in my heart, I know this isn’t true.
Our connection is white hot, and I don’t imagine it’s going anywhere soon.
I might be in deep—a thought that gets my cock harder than it’s ever been—and suddenly, I just
can’t drive fast enough to see her.
I speed through the narrow streets of the city; it doesn’t take me long to get outside of Manhattan.
As I inch closer to the house, I take in the fresh country air and think of how I got myself in this position.
I haven’t even slept with anybody else since meeting Meg. Usually, I’d have a host of women at my
feet, ready for a one-night stand at my beck and call. But suddenly, all of that doesn’t interest me now.
What she’s doing to me makes me feel simultaneously excited and pissed off.
I don’t get close to women. That’s kind of my mantra, my rule in life.
And yet tonight, my body betrays me as my cock strains and throbs against my pants for every
thought I cast her way. I want her so bad. I need to make things happen with her before I damn near
explode.
I take the corners of the road tightly, recalling Meg’s reaction to my invitation.
Why wouldn’t she meet me in the city? What’s going on with her? She sounded almost afraid of the
idea of having to leave the mansion.
And then I push these thoughts out of my mind and focus on the fact that I’m about to see Meg.
I’ll fuck her tonight and make her cry my name, and she’ll never want to leave my side again.
 It’s time to cement this thing. I need to be with her, and tonight, I’ll do whatever it takes to make that
happen—even if I have to walk through fire to be with her. There will be no more waiting or chivalry on
my part.
It’s time.
Chapter 30

Meg


My hands shake as I hung up the phone. I take a couple of deep breaths, trying to regain my
composure.
Evan had caught me off guard by asking me to come to the city.
I’ve given him no good reason why I couldn’t come to the city. He probably suspects something
now.
My secret is starting to unravel, and living two separate lives might just be my undoing.
I can’t maintain a series of lies any longer. I am, by nature, a person with integrity. I don’t lie.
And yet Simon has forced me into it. It’s as if he wants me to be as evil as he is.
Giving Evan the cold shoulder is making me sick to my stomach because it’s not who I am.
I’m into Evan. I feel connected to him in an inexplicable way, and yet I might have just severed
everything that binds us together.
My bed beckons, and I curl up on the soft duvet. Have I lost Evan, this great guy, all because I’m
hiding a secret life? Do I expect never to leave the mansion again?
Tears run down my cheeks, and I find myself crying for all that I’ve lost and for all that I have to
lose.
I have everything I could ever want here—and yet it’s all on the line because of stupid Simon.
It was a close call with Evan, and I’m not even sure I handled the situation right. Who am I to
refuse him a date? Finally, he asks me out—something I’ve been dying for him to do—but I had to ruin it
because of my secret.
What if he gets turned off because of my hesitation?
I wipe my tears with the sleeve of my sweater and consider my options. It’s becoming completely
apparent to me now that the truth will come out at some point. I can’t remain cloistered in the mansion
forever and think that nobody will notice how I never leave.
The thing is, I know Simon is out there. It’s obvious from his texts that he’s becoming increasingly
angry, and I sense a hint of…instability about him. He’s going absolutely crazy, knowing that he may not
get the billion-dollar fortune.
Simon’s only concern is money. It always has been. And because it’s taking me so long to get some
dirt on the guys, I think Simon might do something rash.
I don’t want to take any chances by leaving the mansion.
For all I know, he has spies on me, watching my every move. If I were to leave the mansion and go
on a date with one of the guys, I might leave myself exposed to Simon and his minions or whoever he has
working for him.
By leaving, I could blow my cover.
And I can’t have that happening.
I’m finally happy, and I want to do everything I can to hang on to that. I deserve a good life.
I just have to find out how to get out from underneath Simon’s grasp. It seems like an impossible
situation, and I curse as I look out my window at the setting sun.
I’ll never tire of this view and from being so far removed from the city and all its chaos. Out here, I
can actually hear myself think.
My cheeks burn hot, and my eyes fill again with tears, but I don’t let one single drop fall this time.
Simon doesn’t deserve to have me feeling upset like this. He doesn’t deserve to have a say over my
life or how I feel.
I’ve put up with him for far too long, and now his past relationship with me is threatening to ruin
my present happiness.
I go to my bathroom and splash some cool water on my face. It does nothing to tame my pounding
heart, but it does bring me back to reality.
I tell myself that I can deal with Simon another day. And I tell myself that this is all a bad dream,
from which I will wake up one day soon.
I walk down to the pool and dip my feet in the water. I watch the setting sun for a long while and
think about what a mistake I’ve made in thinking I can be happy here.
With Simon in my life, I can never be happy. How could I have been so dumb?
I became so wrapped up in the guys, these four amazing brothers, that I forgot my reality, which is
that Simon has me under his watch.
He can ruin my life, expose me. He can ruin my happiness.
The pool darkens as the day fades and the evening sets. Crickets chirp and provide a backdrop to
my forlorn thoughts.
Reluctantly, I look at my phone and see that Simon has left a score of messages.
Where are you? he writes. Have you found anything?
I text him back, No, Simon. It’s been harder than I expected. There’s no sign of the will anywhere.
Time is of the essence, he replies. I roll my eyes. This is not some kind of vacation for you, Meg.
You’re out there for a reason. If you don’t come up with something soon, I’m gonna pull you out of
there and think of a new plan.
His words cause my heart to race with anxiety. I knew Simon would make his move soon. He’ll
come out here and force my hand.
For all I know, he could show up at the front door tomorrow and demand to have me back.
Then the guys would know that I’ve been betraying them this entire time.
 I think I’m getting close to something. I just need a little while longer. I’m sure the will is in the
house somewhere, I text back.
Fine. But you don’t have long.
He’s such a jerk. There’s got to be a way to get him out of my life.
Idly, I remember how I came to the mansion with the intention of escaping my past, to run away to
my island paradise.
But now I’m starting to feel firmly entrenched within the lives of the men here. They’ve made me
submit in ways I never knew was possible.
Suddenly, I find myself wanting to give up my own plans of escape so that I can be with them.
It’s not such an impossibility, is it? I mean, besides the fact that I have no idea if any of them intend
to be monogamous with me—a fact that I don’t forget for a second.
For all I know, this could be an unrequited fantasy in my head. Maybe the guys want to bed me for a
time and then that’s it.
It’s out of my control, but a girl can hope.
Besides, there’s something worthwhile about being dominated by four men, four brothers, who are
all so self-aware and have access to such inner power and strength. It makes me feel good to let go and to
be their little muse.
While I’ve been with each of them separately—except for Evan—there’s a common thread that runs
through all of my relationships with them: these guys are alpha males to the max.
They worship me, sure, and yet they expect me to give in to their every need and desire.
It’s a task I’m more than willing to do.
I feel myself getting turned on by the second as I sit here by the pool, thinking of them. I don’t
honestly see how I can walk away from the situation.
I need to figure out some way to put off Simon.
My feet feel good in the warm water, and I see the moon rising over the horizon. I could sit here all
night, just taking in the quiet country sounds.
And then to my surprise, I hear Evan’s voice.
“There you are. I was worried about you, Meg.”
I look up at him, and my heart begins to flutter. He looks so hot in his business suit.
At the same time, I know that I might have enraged him by turning down his offer for a date. I
wanted to go. I really did.
But I don’t see any way that it can happen with Simon out there lurking somewhere.
“Hi, Evan,” I say, getting up to greet him. “I thought maybe you were mad at me.”
I see he’s holding a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses. It’s the perfect thing I need—a
tonic for my torn soul.
He pulls me towards his side and gives me a kiss before saying, “How could I be mad at you, Meg?
You’re radiant. You’re everything.”
His words soothe me, and suddenly, I feel a fire ignite between the two of us. We’ve waited so long
—and yet we both want each other so badly. It’s evident, obvious.
There’s been this underlying sexual tension between us that we can no longer ignore. All I can think
about is Evan. All I see is Evan.
And, as he puts his mouth upon mine, all I’m tasting and feeling is Evan.
Chapter 31

Evan


My dream has finally come true.
I’ve longed to be on my own with this goddess, and finally I’ve succeeded.
The sound of the waterfall flowing at the back of the hot tub is the perfect backdrop for what I’ve
got planned.
Maybe her refusal to come to the city is a blessing in disguise. This is far better than some run-of-
the-mill expensive hotel suite.
The jealousy built during the drive to the mansion is slowly evaporating. This might just become a
special night—a special something between Meg and I.
Soft lighting from the bottom of the pool highlights Meg’s features, and I have to exercise the utmost
in restraint to stop myself from ripping her clothes off and fucking her right here.
How long have I waited for this moment? Too fucking long. In my job and in life, I never have to
wait; I always get what I go for.
After I set the ground rules—that I’m in command—I get down to business with my kiss.
It’s time to pour some champagne. Her smoldering, emerald eyes watch my every move.
“Baby, let’s pop this bottle of champagne, yes?”
“Yes,” she says, looking up at me from under long lashes.
She’s looks radiant by the pool, like a goddamn mermaid come to life.
She accepts the tall crystal champagne flute, and as the tips of our fingers touch, I can feel electric
currents pass through both of us. From her expression, I can tell she feels it too.
“What shall we drink to?” I ask as I allow my eyes to roam all over her body.
I can’t keep my eyes off her for a minute. I’m mentally undressing her, but on second thought, it
might be more interesting if I command her to strip for me.
She’s staring at me with a mixture of awe and lust. I can tell she’s trying to determine what kind of
mood I’m in.
Will tonight be the night? Will I be gentle with her or rough?
“Why don’t we toast to us? It’s the first time we’ve been really alone, after all,” she says.
Her voice is soft and alluring. My cock instantly hardens in my pants. Part of me can already
imagine those exquisite lips wrapped around my manhood that’s throbbing so forcefully for her.
“How about we toast instead to you?” I say.
I don’t think she gets how beautiful she is. But her cheeks redden a little bit at my words, and I love
the fact that I’ve made her uneasy, or shall we say vulnerable to my charms.
She’s putty in my hands and will submit to whatever I want her to do. And trust me, there’s plenty I
want her to do.
But before we take it to the next level, I lead her by the hand to the darkened part of the pool. The
waterfall is nearby, and I can imagine her naked body underneath it as the water cascades over her skin in
the moonlight.
“Stand under there and take your clothes off,” I command as I put my glass down.
I point toward the waterfall where my fantasy can play out into reality. Red, blue, and green lights
illuminate the fake display of nature.
There’s the slightest bit of hesitation about her demeanor, but I know she’ll do it. She wouldn’t dare
to defy me now, or I’ll make her pay.
Defiantly, she summons courage out of somewhere and walks toward the water. Her eyes are fixed
on me the entire time.
Instead of stripping down or getting naked, she plunges into the pool with a perfect swan dive. Then
she comes up for air before situating her body behind the waterfall.
I can only just make out the lines of her perfect tits as they’re erect against her drenched shirt.
“Is this what you want, baby? Or should I call you daddy?” she asks.
I’m taken aback by her confidence and her sudden show of words. But I’m not one to back down
from a fight, so I engage.
“No. Take it all off,” I say as I sit down by the pool and get drunk off the champagne. “And make
sure you do it slowly.”
Mesmerized, I watch her undo the top button of her forest-green shirt before moving to the next. By
the time she’s at the gap between her tits, I hold up my hand.
“Stop,” I growl, and I see her shaking hands hover on the next one. “Too slow.”
I take my shirt off and walk toward her. Her eyes are set on my abdomen, exquisite and perfectly
toned. Wearing my pants, I slide into the water to join her.
I shove her hand out of the way. Then I grab onto the flimsy material and rip it open. Buttons pop in
different directions and land in the water.
She gasps, and I can see pleasure ripple through her. Goosebumps are on her neck and arms.
Rivulets of water run down between her breasts.
“Better,” I mutter and fold my arms. “Keep going.”
Her trembling hands fumble with the opening of the lacy bra.
“Straps,” I bark and watch as she quickly pulls down the left and then the right bra strap. Her shirt
floats in the water, and I’m delighted to have her nearly nude. “Pull it off.”
At first she stares at me, trying to comprehend what I’m saying. When my hands reach for the
material and roughly move it from side to side, understanding registers.
 She takes over, and I can see her nipples harden even more from the attention they’re getting.
Meg moans and throws her head backwards. Instantly, her hair is drenched. When she brings it
forward again, droplets of water run down her cheek, nose, and forehead.
“Off.”
My breathing is getting a little harder and faster. I want to draw this out as long as possible.
I’m getting wet, and she’s definitely getting wet. This woman is a natural, submissive, sensual, and
full of animalistic passion. The way her eyes brim with lust, I can tell she’s loving this.
When her fingers still can’t unclasp the bra, I do it for her by snatching the bra off her body. The
bands rip, and I fling the material and throw it to the side.
An expensive garment ruined, and I don’t give a damn.
Now she’s standing there, bare tits bouncing up and down, water cascading off her glorious half
nakedness. Blues, reds, and greens reflect on her delicious skin—a kaleidoscope of colors.
Those curves are enticing me, calling to me to just rip my pants off and introduce her to my thick,
twelve-inch cock.
“Panties next.”
I want to see them, taste them, smell them, and keep them as a memorabilia for the night she
submitted to me. She might have submitted to my brothers, but I’ll have the last say.
She will be mine.
Meg’s hands go under her soaked skirt and come out a second later with a satin slip of fabric.
“Give them over,” I order, and she obeys.
When I bring the saturated object to my face, I see lust in her eyes.
“Evan, please,” she begs and leans forward a little.
I know she wants it. She’s begging for me.
I need to taste and smell her first. With my nose buried in her wet panties, I take a deep breath in. A
combination of salt, sweet perfume, and primal lust assaults my senses.
She smells fucking beautiful, and this is just a taste.
“Please what?” I say as our eyes lock together.
Hers are begging me. I know what she’s begging me for.
“Please fuck me,” she whispers and pulls down her skirt.
Naked, she stands in the pool before me, totally at my mercy.
Green light illuminates her pussy, the same green of her eyes.
“No one asks Evan Reed for a fuck,” I growl and feel a wild beast unleash inside of me.
Those emerald eyes must be casting a spell on me.
“I,” she mutters and lowers her eyes, “It’s just…”
Instead of letting her finish, I grab her wrist and drag her out of the waterfall toward the hot tub.
This is how I imagined it would be with Meg. She is totally submissive and willing to obey my
every command. She does not disappoint.
I stop to press the button, and the bubbles start.
“Take off my pants.”
With keen fingers, Meg undoes my wet suit pants and lets them fall to the ground. I step out of them.
Her hungry eyes feast on my throbbing cock. There’s a definite glint in them as she sizes me up.
I decide there’s no harm in letting her have a little taste of my cock before we get into the tub.
“You want it?”
Meg’s eyes widen, and she nods. Her tongue licks her lips.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Take it.”
The second she opens her mouth, I shove my cock right into her. I grab the side of her face. At first
she struggles against me a little.
“All the way, Meg. Take me all the way.”
I don’t accept halfhearted crap, not in my work and not when I fuck a woman, particularly when this
woman is Meg. I want all of her...submission.
When my cock’s all the way inside her, I just stay there instead of pulling out. I feel her tongue
wrap around the base of me and suck hard.
“Pinch your nipples with your right hand,” I order, and she obeys.
Her left hand is attached to my shaft and balls. I think she may be moaning, but her sound is muffled
with my cock inside of her.
Slowly, I pull out before going back all the way again. I fuck her mouth, and she’s gasping, trying to
take in all of me. It’s an unending task.
I don’t want to come in her mouth. I want to come right inside her fucking wet pussy.
Judging from her tense and vibrating body, she’s pretty close to her own orgasm.
I pull out, and with one swift movement, I have her light body in my arms and I’m placing her into
the hot tub.
“I want you to hang on to the edge of the tub,” I say through gritted teeth as I bend her toward the
ledge.
Meg looks at me, and when she does not move, I slap her on the ass.
She sucks in a deep breath and instantly obeys.
The idea of a spanking has my cock getting harder than ever.
“That’s right, Meg. If you’re a naughty girl, I’ll have to punish you.”
I get behind her and feast on that fleshy ass of hers. And just because I feel like it, I give her another
smack. The bubbles bounce up around her red ass cheeks.
“Evan, please,” she howls.
“Please what?” I can’t deny this woman’s driving me crazy with pure lust.
She’s begging for it, and I didn’t even have to make her. She wants it...bad.
 “Fuck me. Please, fuck me. I need you inside of me.”
Her body’s quivering, and I see that she’s just on the edge of total ecstasy. I don’t need a written
invitation. My hands grab her hips, and I plunge my cock deep into her pussy.
She’s so fucking tight. Her velvety walls grab my cock and milk it as I plunge in and out of her.
The sensation is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s as if she’s trying to break my cock in two. At
this rate, I’ll become even more addicted to her than I already am.
To slow things down and drag the sensations out, I push right into her and stay there. Her hips
shove against me, trying to get me to keep pummeling in and out.
I grab her tits and start kneading them.
“Now, my fucking little slut, you can’t come till I tell you to come.”
“I…can’t…please…” Meg’s high-pitched voice is disjointed.
Her body’s tense, and I can tell she’s ready to be swept up by her own orgasm.
All around us, warm bubbles dance across the water’s surface and splash upwards.
Try as I might, I can’t prolong the inevitable. My body is tense and on fire with pleasure. Any
second I’m going to come inside this magnificent pussy of hers.
She’s exceeded my expectations and imagination.
“Now. Come now,” I order Meg and feel the walls of her pussy tighten around my cock before she
gives in and comes hard.
She rides her waves of pleasure as my own body explodes and fireworks rip through me. I shoot
my load into her and dig my fingers into the side of her hips.
She cries out in a mix of pain and pleasure as I release into her. She’s coming violently now, one
orgasm rolling into the next.
For a second, I’m lost in the ecstasy of it all, and then I come back down to earth.
When I’m done, I pull out and lean against the wall of the spa. I pull her against me with her back
facing me. She nuzzles her head into my chest.
“Don’t get fucking comfortable,” I say. “This was only Act I.”
She turns her head toward me and asks demurely, “How many acts are there?”
I grin. “You’ll find out.”
Chapter 32

Meg


I can’t believe it finally happened.
Evan happened.
Evan, self-assured, sex god of a man.
And he came bearing gifts that I wanted. The taste of his cock is fresh on my lips. I never want to
forget it.
He’s opened doors of ecstasy to me that I didn’t know were possible.
“I think it’s time for Act II,” his stern voice snaps me out of my daydreaming.
Before I get a chance to move, he’s lifted me out of the warm water and onto the tiled floor beside
the hot tub.
The cool night air brushes against my wet, naked skin. I shiver a little and wrap my arms around my
body. There’s no towel, and my clothes lie scattered, ruined from being in the chlorine.
I gather them up quickly, but there’s no point in putting anything back on.
“Let’s go,” he growls and strides toward the mansion. “No need to cover up.”
Like an obedient dog, I follow. I take careful steps on the tiled area, not wanting to slip.
“Come on.” Evan sounds impatient.
Before I reach him, he’s already striding away. He doesn’t look back and only waits at the back
door.
I glance around, hoping no one sees me. It’s a little awkward running naked through the estate.
Once inside, he picks me up and throws me over his shoulders.
Unable to breathe properly, I feel the blood rush to my head. And before I can protest, we’ve
reached his area of the house.
“What…” I’m about to ask, but one look from him and I keep my mouth shut.
His eyes are shooting daggers at me. It makes me wet—wetter than I already am by the pool water.
“I won’t have you speak until you’re spoken to,” he commands.
And at his words, my pussy tightens. I lower my head, bite my bottom lip, and assume the role of
subservient mistress.
I mean, that’s what he wants, right? And somehow, I find that I want it too.
I’m craving the tone of his command. And I’m aching to be taken again by his giant cock.
Being submissive is not a bad role, don’t get me wrong. In a way, it’s the most powerful role to
have. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see his cock’s growing hard and thick already.
 And there’s only one reason for it—me. Power surges through me and heightens my own sense of
pleasure.
I do this to him. He’s possessive of me, obsessed with my every move.
“I…” I start again, and this time it’s his hands that grab me and push me against the wall to silence
me.
I take it all as waves of glorious pleasure wash over me. I could come right here, by his command.
“I told you, you’re not to speak unless you’re spoken to or I give you permission.”
Where Evan’s holding me, my skin is burning with desire. His verbal lashing leaves me wild with
anticipation. Without attracting attention to myself, I shift from one foot onto the other.
“Into the shower,” Evan says.
Unsure where the shower is, I stay where I am.
His right hand points towards a door. He turns me and then smacks my ass really hard.
“Go.”
The juices between my legs are starting to flow already, and I know he’s watching me walk across
the room. I make the most of it by arching my back and sticking my ass out for his viewing pleasure.
Once I’m in the oversized, marble bathroom, I look around.
To my surprise, there’s no bathtub, only a massive shower with two showerheads. No shower
curtain, only glass doors and plenty of full-length mirrors.
“You’re not checking yourself out, are you?”
I didn’t hear him come in. I drop my head quickly.
“Looks like you’ll need plenty of etiquette lessons.”
Instead of a reply, I keep my eyes downcast. I like to play the subservient little slut he wants me to
play. It’s a role I was made for.
Out from under my long lashes, I watch Evan turn the massive showerhead on. He twists his well-
muscled body under the water, and my insides burn with desire.
I want to fucking touch him.
“Now then.” His attention is on me now. “What are you waiting for? I believe you’re after a taste of
this?” He holds his throbbing cock in his left hand.
Licking my lips, I approach him.
“Down,” he says in a measured tone and uses his free hand to push me onto the floor.
There’s really no need. I’m already getting down by myself. Truth be told, I can’t wait to get
another chance of tasting his salty, manly, massive cock in my mouth.
“Wait,” he grumbles as I lean into him.
But I’m past the point of no return and take him. He pulls back out.
“I want to watch you fuck yourself in the pussy.”
Our eyes meet, and I beg him to change his mind. It’s not that I don’t want to obey his every
command, it’s just I want to be totally focused on giving him a blowjob.
“Do it. Now.”
Without voicing my complaint, I use my right hand to start rubbing myself on my clit. My left hand
wraps around the base of his cock as I guide it into my mouth.
I tilt my head back a little to accommodate all of him without gagging. He’s so massive I feel him
right down my throat.
His own hands are now on my nipples. It’s his index finger and thumb that pull and pinch my
delicate pink nipples. The sensation leaves me gasping for air.
The world’s spinning out of control as a cocktail of sensations wash through me. My mouth is
working on Evan’s massive cock.
I let my tongue stroke along the shaft as I pull away, and when he thrusts into me again, I lick his
base. It doesn’t take long for him to get into a rhythm.
He thrusts his hips against my face hard and fast.
The warm water of the shower cascades over his back, sprays into my face, and dribbles into my
mouth to combine with his salty taste.
It doesn’t take long for my body to start shaking.
“Don’t come. I forbid you to come.”
Instantly, I slow my fingers on my clit down. I try and pull away from him, but he’s holding those
nipples tight.
The pain shoots through me and combines with pleasure.
“Make me fucking come now, Meg. Do it.”
I suck harder. He’s grabbing my hair and pulling my face as hard as he can into his balls.
A wolf-like howl precedes him coming.
Instead of coming inside of me, he pulls out at the last second and tugs my head backwards.
Fountain-like, his cock explodes and shoots load after load of creamy-white cum onto me.
It lands on my face, my cheeks, and runs down my chest. I feel him use his fingers to rub some on
my tits.
When he’s finally finished, he looks at me.
“You better fucking clean yourself off. You look like a fucking mess.”
My right hand wipes the cum out of my eyes first. When I go to use a towel, Evan stops me.
“Suck it all up.”
He guides my fingers into my mouth and watches me lick them. When he thinks they’re clean, he
pulls them out of my mouth.
“Keep going.”
My left hand wipes the cum off my tits and chest and my right off my face. I alternate in sucking my
fingers clean.
 By the time I’m finished, Evan’s cock is rock-hard again.
Without a word, he pushes me against the wall of the shower. My tits are pressed against the cool
glass. Warm water runs down my back.
There’s no word from Evan as he uses his feet to push mine apart. Then his fingers find my pussy
and push into it.
He doesn’t need to check if I’m wet and ready. I’m so fucking ready to have him in me again I fear I
might explode.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” he whispers into my ear.
Despite the warm water on my back, I shiver.
“I want you,” I whisper and throw my head back.
“I can’t fucking hear you,” he grumbles.
“I want you.”
Nothing happens.
“What do you mean you want me?”
This is pure torture. I’ve gone completely blank.
I can’t string a single thought together. The man’s causing havoc on my body and my brain.
“Evan. Please,” I beg and shove my ass against his rock-hard cock.
But Evan has other ideas.
“You need to tell me what you fucking want me to do to you,” he demands. Before I can answer, he
lifts my arms up above my head and presses me harder against the wall. “Do you like it rough and hard?”
My breathing is getting more and more shallow, and I’m not sure if his question needs an answer.
“Come on. Tell me, my fucking little vixen. Do you like it rough?”
I’m about to say yes when the words get caught in my throat because he’s pushed his massive cock
into my most private hole.
For a few seconds, I can’t breathe, and my body is trying to get used to the sensation of being
fucked there.
He pummels into me, slow at first. My hole is so tight I think I might tear. But it only takes two or
three inward thrusts for me to push against him to try and get him further into me.
Fireworks are exploding in my head, and I fear I might pass out from pleasure.
“Come on, Meg,” his voice is commanding. “I need you to say it.”
“Yes,” I hiss. “I need you to fuck me rough and hard.”
There, I said what he wants to hear.
And then he comes. I can feel him shoot his load into me. His body’s pressed against mine as he
shudders through his orgasm.
Just before he finishes filling me with his load, I come too. I come with such intensity that I drop my
head down and let oblivion set in.
 If Evan didn’t have a hold of me, I swear I’d collapse onto the floor of the shower.
As it is, he picks me up as my body continues to tremble with pleasure, and he carries me into the
bedroom.
Gently, he lays me onto the oversized king bed.
“Let me guess?” I whisper in the midst of my amnesia. “Act III is about to start?”
Chapter 33

Evan


For a few seconds, I just leave her lying on the bed as I plan my next move. Those emerald eyes are
burning with desire and lust. I can feel the heat from them even at this distance.
I’m a businessman. I like to play with high stakes. It’s time to increase the stakes, I decide, and
leave Meg on the bed.
It takes me hardly any time at all to gather the few things I need to torturously play with her.
When I return, Meg looks at me through those thick black lashes of hers.
“Time to up the ante,” I growl.
It takes me no time at all to pull Meg into a sitting position. Her eyes widen a little, but she keeps
quiet.
“Good girl,” I tell her. “You’ve learned already not to ask any questions.”
The first thing I do is use the black scarf I grabbed and tie it around her face to cover her eyes.
“What are you...” stutters Meg, but I cut her off.
“Silence. You don’t speak.”
Now that she’s unable to see anything, I lift her off the bed and put her onto a large red leather
chair. It’s my reading chair. Often I sit in it late into the night, reviewing papers for work.
Today I’m going to have a very different use for it.
When her naked body melts into the cool leather, I see the goosebumps form on her skin. It won’t
take long to heat things up a bit.
I take her arms and quickly wrap a silk tie around each wrist and tie them at the back. Now she’s
totally at my mercy.
Little whimpers escape her lips, and I put my finger under her chin.
“Now then, my fucking little vixen. You’ll only address me with ‘yes, sir, no, sir.’ Understood?”
Meg nods hesitantly, slowly.
It’s a shame I can’t see those smoldering eyes, but I’m reveling in total domination. I mean, she
can’t see what’s coming, nor can she move.
“I can’t hear you,” I whisper menacingly into her ear. “If you don’t fucking do as I tell you, you’ll
have to take your punishment. And your punishment…” I pause for dramatic effect. At my words I see her
body tense. No doubt she’s waiting for a whip or something, but I’ve got something much better. “Your
punishment will be this.”
My right hand holds an object with a wooden handle. At the end of it is a little metal spinning
wheel with serrated edges. I run it over her nipples, pushing it into her skin.
I see her bite her lips and sink further into the red leather. Her nipples instantly harden.
“Now what were you going to say?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. You’re a fast learner, Meg.”
I move the wheel off her body and place it on the armrest of the chair. No doubt there’ll be an
occasion to use this, and if not, I’ll have to create one.
For a few seconds, I just stand and admire Meg’s body. It’s exquisitely delicious. Her pale skin,
those curves, and her perfect tits.
To get a better view of her pussy, I need to do one more thing.
I grab another silk tie and use it to tie her ankles to each chair leg. Better, much better. Now her
legs are spread far enough apart for me to get a good look at her juicy pussy.
She’s fucking wet already. Tiny bits of her juices are dripping from the lips of her pussy.
It is time to have some fucking fun.
Since her pussy is practically begging me to give it attention, I start there first. I kneel on the floor
in front of her and move my face toward her inner sanctum. I’m careful not to touch any part of her.
Her body is trembling with anticipation, and I can see her strain against her hand ties. Good. Keep
going, fucking little slut, and you’ll be taking your punishment soon.
When I’m really close to her, so close I can smell her delicious scent—a perfect combination of
salt, sweet, lust, and passion—I simply breathe onto her clit. She shoves her hips toward me in an effort
to make contact with any part of my body.
“I didn’t say you could move,” I growl and grab my magic metal wheel.
This time, I run it over the inside of her thigh. Tiny metal indents are left where I’ve been.
Her breathing is getting harder and faster. I can tell this is sending her mad with pleasure. I wonder
if my dear brothers have thought of any of this or if this is new to her.
While I know Ian, Paul, and Matt, well, I don’t quite know how much of this shit they’re into.
“You going to behave, my fucking little slut. Because you know you’re nothing but a worthless little
slut. My fucking little slut.”
The wheel has been put back on the armchair, and my nose is now only inches again from her
dripping pussy.
“Yes, sir,” Meg manages to reply through clenched teeth.
I can tell it’s taking great effort on her part not to yell, scream, or beg me for more. This is the best
part of fucking a woman this way. You’ve got total fucking control, they have no fucking idea what’s about
to happen, and they fucking love it.
This time, I let my tongue dart out a tiny bit and just tease her clit. The touch is brief. So brief she
may wonder if she imagined it.
 “Oh,” escapes her lips, and I see her bite them instantly.
“Fucking hell. I thought you were a fast learner. Seems I was wrong.”
Now the wheel moves over her clit, slow and hard. Meg throws her head back.
“Now where was I?” I go back to giving her attention on her pussy.
“Tell me, Meg, do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes, sir.” Her response is instant and clinical.
It’s not laced with emotion.
“And do you want to be fucked now?”
“Yes.” This time she forgets the sir and sounds pleading.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” I reach for the wheel and run it lengthways across her pussy. Meg’s hips push
forward, and I repeat my movement harder.
She retreats into the chair.
By now my cock’s so fucking hard I fear it might explode. I need to exercise restraint and focus on
the job at hand. I don’t just want to fucking come before I’ve had my fun with Meg.
“Try again. Do you want to be fucked now?”
“Yes, sir.”
I nod. My index finger reaches for her nipple, and she flinches as I pinch it hard. With two for the
taking, I switch between them.
Then I let my finger go to her pussy and scoop up some of her own juices.
Before I touch her again, I wait. I want her to quiver with anticipation, and she does.
My finger, covered in her juices, trails tiny little circles around her belly button. Then they’re gone
again.
Next I use my mouth to suck on her tits, biting her nipples with my teeth. I feel the shock waves of
pleasure rip through her body as I tease and tantalize without her being able to see or know what I’m
doing next.
“I can’t,” she finally gasps, and I wrap my hands around her throat, forcing her into submission.
“You will not come now.”
Meg bites her lip.
“You will come when I command you to,” I bark and move into position.
“Yes, sir.”
As a reward, I lean forward and kiss her on the lips. Hungrily, she responds. Her tongue comes out
to meet mine, to dance and frolic in total harmony.
She’s about ready to devour me when I pull away from her.
I see her chest rising and falling. She’s breathing faster than if she’d just sprinted the hundred
meters.
It’s time.
 “Get ready,” I warn her and straddle her.
My legs easily fit on either side of the chair. For a few seconds, my throbbing cock hovers near the
entrance of her wet pussy.
I can tell she’s resisting the temptation to thrust her hip upwards toward me.
And then I ram my massive cock right into her. It’s unexpected for her, and those delicious walls of
her inner sanctum grab my cock so hard I think I might come right away.
Quickly, I pull out again and catch my own breath. Fuck, she’s hot.
Mentally, I count to ten and go again. This time I start to pummel her hard and fast.
“Don’t come yet,” I command again, and her face is contorted in pleasure and pain.
The walls of her pussy are milking my cock hard, and I’m about to come.
“Now. Come now,” I shout at her as I unleash a huge load of cum into her. I can feel it spill out as
fast as I pump it into her.
I know she’s coming too, with her muscles making one last final grab for my cock before relaxing.
When we’ve both finished riding our waves of pleasure, I take her blindfold off.
Her eyes are overflowing with intensity.
“How many acts did you say there were?” she asks, grinning.
In lieu of an answer, I lean toward her and kiss her.
Chapter 34

Meg


I soap and suds myself in the Jacuzzi tub.
Languidly, I drip essential oil into the tub and caress my skin with the silky soft fragrance.
I want to smell perfect, look perfect, be perfect.
After my recent excursion with Evan, where he ravaged me and where so much of our sexual
tension found an outlet, I’ve been feeling much better.
To my surprise and utter delight, Simon appears to have left me alone. I am no longer the focus of
his wrath. I can’t imagine he’s just forgotten about the lost fortune, but I play with the idea that maybe he
has. Maybe I am off the hook.
Simon’s a multi-millionaire in his own right, and I’m hoping that will, at last, be enough for him.
There’s no other way to explain his sudden disappearance. He’s never left me alone this long since I’ve
known him, so I take it as a good sign.
I have my silver Gucci dress hanging in the bathroom, all ready to go with shoes to match. The
dress hugs my curves in all the right places, and it’s just skimpy enough to show off my newly acquired
tan, all thanks to many afternoons under the sun doing absolutely nothing.
It’s the night of the party, and I don’t intend to waste a second of it. As far as I’m concerned, this is
a celebration. It’s a celebration of all my new relationships and of my happiness.
I never imagined my life could be so perfect, but here I am: without a care in the world for the first
time in ages.
Now that I’ve been with every guy separately, I can’t imagine losing even one of them.
Of course, this puts me in a precarious position. But it’s also a very fun place to be in.
Each of the guys is overwhelming in his own way. They’re all very intense and authoritative with
me, which I kinda sorta like.
In fact, I’m getting wet just thinking about what could possibly go down tonight.
Who will it be? I know they’re all vying for my attention. It’s a feeling I could get used to.
I have a new life, and I didn’t even need to escape to some island to achieve it. Dare I believe that I
can be so happy?
I take a very long bath, not rushing myself. I want every curl to be in place at this party. So I rest in
the tub, shave my legs, and wash my hair.
I douse myself in oils and potions and get ready for the evening. I want to be as fresh as a daisy for
my men.
 I can’t help but allow my fingers to roam along the delicate petals of my pussy, though.
I rub my clit under the water and imagine Ian holding me down and fucking me hard, while Matt
forces his cock down my throat. Then Paul is there—dapper, rugged Paul. He fucks me, too, obviously.
Evan shows up with his beautiful big and throbbing cock, and I have all four of them at once.
I close my eyes and moan out in pleasure as I imagine being with all of them simultaneously. It’s a
fantasy that I want to happen so badly in real life. Is it wrong that I can’t make a decision?
I can’t determine which one I should be with, because I want them all...at the same time.
This is the inescapable truth. I feel equally passionate about each brother. Each brother is dominate
in a way that makes me melt.
I cry out softly as I bring myself to climax, thinking about the domineering qualities of each man.
I want it. I want to lose myself in each guy.
All at the same time.
Is that so very wrong?
For a moment, I’m dimly lit, in the clouds, out of the world, as my body quivers and quakes to think
of being had by four men at once.
I calm down at last and come back down to earth, feeling light as a feather.
Tonight will be a test to see where the guy’s intentions lie. I’m sure there’s gonna be a vast amount
of women at the party, like there always are. So tonight, I’ll find out for sure if any of the guys have a
roaming eye, or if their hearts are really set on me.
I emerge from the tub, dripping with soapy, oily water. Then I pull on a terrycloth towel and peek
out the bathroom window, so I can see what’s going on below.
It’s been a whirlwind few days planning the party. I’ve had tons of help, but my vision was vastly
darker from that of the party planner’s. While they were out for light and bright, glitz and glamour, as all
of the Belcourt parties have been, I was into something…a shade darker.
I imagined candles and sheaths of red and black velvet fabric, sexy seating, and low operatic
music. This masquerade will be the perfect opportunity for people to escape who they really are.
Everyone is someone they’re not. Everyone can indulge their shadow self, that inner seductive
being that hates the light and craves only darkness where, unmentionable things can happen between the
sheets.
The tone of this party is very secretive and sexy. I can think of no better setting for me to further get
to know the guys.
I admire my vision coming to life and then I step back from the window. I play some music and
proceed to get ready.
I let my mind to drift to happier things, like the beginning of a real relationship with the Belcourt
brothers.
For once, I feel like my own person. I feel free at last—and this enables the true me, the real me to
shine through. Without the impending threat of Simon, I’m a different person—light and carefree.
At the same time, I know I’ve only been able to open up to the guys like this, because they’ve made
me feel comfortable. Being in the presence of such strong, commanding men is what makes me feel like I
can unleash my inner wild child.
I know that whatever I dish, they can take. I know that my wildness is not too much for them to
handle. They can contain me—and that’s a feeling worth something.
I can’t help but reminisce about the first night I was at the mansion: my first party. The difference
between that night and this one is that, now, I feel empowered and safe, whereas I came here in a fearful
state, eager to escape Simon and my torturous past with him.
Tonight, I want the seductive atmosphere to envelop everyone so that my guys can get to know me
in another kind of environment. The party tonight will be the grandest one yet—and I can’t wait for the
evening to begin.
So I carefully apply my makeup…smoky eyes and deep, red lips. I collect my hair into a bundle of
curls at the nape of my neck and then strategically place drops of perfume on my body.
My silver dress is shining in the corner, and I can’t wait to slink into it. Gucci is everything, and
tonight, I’m about to make good on my shopping trip with Ian.
I slip easily into the dress and admire my reflection in the mirror. The only thing that’s missing is
my mask.
I’ve had a black and red mask made of the finest lace. It covers part of my face and highlights my
eyes enough to provide just the perfect amount of mystery and intrigue.
This day has been building up for a while. Ever since the guys said they were throwing a party in
my honor, I’ve been thinking about how it will go. The fact that I got to help plan it is just icing on the
cake.
Life at the mansion is dreamier than ever, and with Simon gone, I pinch myself daily to know that
it’s real. I’ve chased happiness like a butterfly, and now?
It’s mine at last. I deserve this.
I slip my heels on and check my phone one last time before heading out. Luckily for me, there are
no messages from Simon—further evidence that I’m free.
I flick through my pictures and make sure the one of the will is destroyed. I can’t have that lying
around. I don’t want any evidence of my sordid past coming out.
A part of me feels like the guys should know the truth: that Simon put me up to this, that I’ve been
undermining them—but that I didn’t want to do it, and that it’s all sorted now.
But how do I bring that up? I can’t honestly imagine myself saying the words and facing the
possibility of losing everything.
No, I think it’s better to put the past where it belongs: in the past. And I can start over in my new
life, right here, not so far from home.
 It doesn’t seem likely that any of the guys would ever want to see me again after having known what
I did. It pains me to even think of it. So I don’t.
I’m going to bury my past and never look at it again.
Starting tonight.
Because tonight will be fun and memorable, and nothing can hold me back from that.
I give myself one final glance in the mirror to make sure everything’s in place, then I make my way
down the grand staircase and see the house brimming with guests arriving. Everything is magnificent—
and yet also steeped in a dark allure that will surely get the night going.
For a moment, I just stand at the bottom of the staircase and take in the scene.
I look around the room for any sign of Ian, Matt, Paul, or Evan, but alas. I’m alone. I grab a glass of
champagne from one of the passing trays and head outside to take in the rest of the party.
Chapter 35

Matt


I pour myself a hard drink. Something to get the party started.
My cock is hard and tense already against my pants, just thinking of seeing Meg all dolled up.
We’ve been planning this day for a while—or rather, she’s been planning it. Meg has seemed
genuinely pleased that we wanted to do this party for her. Little does she know it’s just another excuse to
spend time together.
I’ve seen the decorators come and go. Meg’s vision is decidedly dark. There’s lots of mystery and
intrigue going on at this party, marked by the fact that it’s a masquerade ball.
I’ve seen candelabras coming in and out of the mansion and all manner of expensive fabric and
seating for around the pool. We told her not to care about money, and she hasn’t. I’m happy to say she
knows a thing or two about style, and no expense has been spared.
I don’t love the idea of wearing a mask, but I would do anything for Meg and anything for a bit
more excitement in our lives.
It’s been far too long since I’ve had a taste of her, and I’m hoping all of that will change tonight. I
know she still hasn’t decided between my brothers and I, but the day is coming quickly upon us. And she
better choose me, or I’ll go fucking crazy.
The house is humming with the buzz and excitement of the upcoming party. It reminds me of days
past when my father was around.
He loved this kind of thing. He loved people to take advantage of the estate, and he loved to
entertain people. He was charismatic by nature.
One thing’s for sure, having Meg here has definitely lessened the blow of losing my dad. She’s
made everything light up. Her mere presence is a pleasure—and yet it’s also made me become somewhat
obsessed.
I enjoy being at the mansion and being able to watch her every second. She spends lazy days by the
pool and time in her room. She works out and walks the ground.
I’ve virtually become a master at recording Meg’s life. I like to be under the same roof as her, so I
can keep an eye on everything and to make sure she’s safe.
I know, I know. What the fuck is this unguarded sentiment I find in myself, right? I’ve never felt this
way before about any woman—and yet with her all things are different.
I adjust my tie and put my suit jacket on while taking the whiskey down in one shot. I always have a
bottle of the best stuff on hand in my quarters. It’s a little something I learned from my father.
 I leave my wing of the house and make my way towards the party, which is already happening in
full swing. I walk through the center of the house and see all manner of people arriving in their best gowns
and masks and tuxedos. It’s an elaborate affair, as it always should be.
“Hi, Matt, how are you?” A woman pulls me aside.
“Hey, Heather, it’s been a long time,” I say, kissing her on both cheeks.
This is a woman I bedded a long time ago—but she’s never forgotten me for an instant. Every time I
see her, she tries to make that one night repeat itself. She was a good lay, sure, but I’ve had better.
I tear myself away from her, so I can greet the other incoming guests.
“Hi, Priscilla, John, nice to see you again,” I say to a couple that always comes to our parties.
“Darling.” Priscilla kisses my cheeks. “How have you been? We’ve been thinking of you so much
after the death of your father.”
“Thank you. That means a lot, especially coming from you. Things have been fine. Both the mansion
and work are running as smoothly as ever,” I say to her.
It’s nice that people have such an interest in our well-being. A lot of the people here are friends of
my father’s who come to these parties all the time. As I look around, I realize Meg did a very good job of
making sure the party’s standards are of the very best quality.
“John and I were just saying how very lovely this party is. It’s different than the ones your father
used to throw. But we just love a masquerade ball,” she says, taking note of the velvet curtains that have
been erected in all directions.
“That’s just what I was thinking,” I say, thinking of Meg. “We had a new set of eyes determining the
theme of this party. Please enjoy yourselves.”
I haven’t even made it outside yet, and already, there are so many people I know. It’s nice to be the
center of attention. I used to revel in it much more than I do now, though.
I like being the focus of attention for women and the envy of all men, but tonight is different.
Tonight there’s only one person whose opinion I care about: Meg’s.
I finally make my way outside, sticking to the outskirts of the party to avoid meeting more people I
know. I’m anxious to set eyes on Meg and to see exactly what she’s up to tonight.
Luckily for me, I see her at a distance, also remaining at the edges of the party. She likely doesn’t
know anybody here, and I’m happy to help alleviate that pressure.
I walk up to her with my mask on and say, “You did a beautiful job here tonight.”
She turns to look at me, those stunning green eyes striking as ever beneath her mask.
“Oh, Matt, you’re saving me. I’ve been feeling so awkward, just standing here not knowing
anybody.”
I can’t imagine Meg feeling awkward for a moment. She’s too beautiful for all of that. She could
walk into a room and take it by storm if she wanted to. She’s that remarkable.
“I don’t believe that for a second,” I say to her, looking intently into her eyes. “You’re the most
beautiful woman here. Don’t forget that.”
She blushes, and her humility makes me as hard as ever. I have to fight the instinct to drag her back
to my room, so that I can remind her just how precious she is.
I tilt her chin up so that she has she’s forced to look at me. “Don’t ever feel uncomfortable. You’re
the most beautiful woman in the room, any room, and you’d do well to remember that.”
I’m just about to pull her in for a kiss when my brother Ian interrupts us. Of course, he looks good,
and normally, I don’t fucking care, but tonight is different. I want Meg all to myself.
“Ian,” she exclaims. “You look so great.”
He pulls her easily to his side, and I take note that her hands are wrapped tightly around his torso,
likely feeling the muscles that he sculpts every day in our home gym. I envy my brother for whatever hold
he has on her. I note with dissatisfaction the way she’s smiling up at him, and I wonder at their connection.
Is it stronger than what we have? Will she choose him over me?
I feel jealous rage as I watch them together. I want to be a part of whatever they have. I want to be a
part of her.
But the realization that Meg might not be able to make a choice between us brothers doesn’t escape
me.
I don’t want her to feel pressure from me. I’m content to share her, as long as I have my fill.
I realize that now. That she’s the only thing that matters to me at this point. That as long as I’m with
her and she’s happy, then I’m happy.
“Meg, where did you get that dress?” he says.
She smiles at him, and I realize they have a sort of inside joke. This must be one of the gowns she
purchased on their shopping excursion.
“You’ve done a fantastic job on this party,” he says.
“Well, I had a lot of help. You guys have the best party planners in the business. It was very easy to
execute my vision. Do you like how dark and mysterious it is?”
Both Ian’s and my expressions turn hungry as we realize what she’s saying. She obviously wanted
the evening to be wrapped in romance and intrigue, and she certainly achieved that goal.
“I…I just wanted to impress you guys. It meant so much to me that you wanted to throw this party. I
hope it’s up to your standards,” she says.
Her sensitivity turns me on like nothing else could. She’s nothing like any other woman I’ve met.
She’s different, unique. Her rarity makes me crave her more.
What the fuck is she doing to me? What is this hold she has on my heart...and my cock?
I’ve already bedded her once, and yet I am not fulfilled. I want more, more, and more.
What does this say about me?
“Do you guys want me to get you a drink?” she asks.
“No, babe, I’ll get it,” I say.
 She looks guilty for a second and says, “Actually, I’d like to circle the party and look for Paul and
Evan, if that’s okay. I think we should all celebrate together.”
I decide to cast off my jealous rage for a second and to let her have this moment. If she wants to
look for my brothers, she can do that. Her happiness is more important than anything else...even if that
means being with my brothers.
I pull her into my arms and get that kiss I’ve been wanting. I feel her relax a little in my grasp, and
it’s enough...for now.
“Okay, do as you will,” I say, trying to hide my reluctance.
She smiles at me. Sighing, I watch her go, her happiness my number one priority.
The fact that I’m feeling this way is something unusual, for sure. I’m used to competing with my
brothers and being jealous of their conquests. This used to be the case with Meg, too, but seeing as she’s
decidedly torn between the four of us…I really can’t imagine putting any undue pressure on her.
She deserves the world, even if that means having to share.
Ian and I watch her walk away. Her backless dress hangs beautifully from her body, highlighting her
gorgeous ass.
“I could watch her like this all day,” I remark.
“She’s certainly something, isn’t she?” Ian says.
He shoots me a knowing look, and I can tell we’re both on the same page. If Meg was going to
decide between us, she would’ve done it by now.
Ian and I are both aware of the stakes, and we’re painfully aware that we might be sharing Meg in
the foreseeable future.
“What do you say to a truce? I don’t see any reason why we need to fight over Meg as she’s so
obviously into all of us.”
He looks at me with thoughtful eyes and says, “You’re right. You’re absolutely fucking right.”
I hold out my hand, and we shake on it.
We watch her disappear into the throes of people that are now surrounding the backyard. It’s going
to be an epic party, for sure.
With Meg gone, I take the moment to go mingle. Ian and I go our separate ways and venture into the
crowd. We become the quintessential hosts that our father trained us to be.
Chapter 36

Meg


I can feel the guys staring at my ass as I walk away.
It’s a good feeling, knowing that their eyes are upon me. It’s a feeling that I never want to go away.
Is it so wrong that I want this much attention from both of them…from all four of them, actually?
I can’t decide if I’m just being selfish or honest. I can’t even consider the thought of letting go of
one of the guys, because I have deep feelings for them all.
I’m not trying to lead anybody on, and I certainly don’t think that they view it this way. I’m honestly
torn between the four of them. Making a decision will be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life,
and the truth is I’m not sure I can do it.
Part of me thinks that I’d rather lose them all than have to choose one. I can’t imagine hurting any of
them. They all bring different things to my life, things which I find I can’t do without.
The party is brimming, as more people file in. Nobody wants to miss a Belcourt party, and this one
is surely more different and exquisite than anyone has previously seen.
I disappear into the maze of people, and I can’t help but feel quite thrilled at how the party’s turned
out. Yes, it has a dark undertone, but people are loving it. I see them dancing and relishing every moment
of the glamorous seduction.
The party feels sexy—exactly what I wanted.
Everyone’s laughing and dancing and having a good time. Hopefully, this party would’ve done
George Belcourt proud. I didn’t even know the guy, and yet I felt such esteem for him. His reputation
precedes him, and I know the guys want to live up to that. If he was important to them, then he’s important
to me
I grab a drink from the passing tray of champagne and try to ignore the various glances I’m getting
from men. I appreciate the attention, but I feel taken. There are four men whose jealousy I don’t want to
rouse.
The guys must know that there’s no one else. They must trust me and understand that I’m nothing if
not faithful.
I overhear people gossiping about the Belcourt brothers while also paying tribute to the fabulous
party.
“Did you see the brothers tonight? They certainly fill the shoes of their father, don’t they?” someone
says.
“Oh, they’re doing well. George would’ve been proud.”
 A woman makes a snarky comment that I overhear, “I heard they have a new girl. She’s not even
supposed to be that pretty.”
The comment doesn’t hurt my feelings, because I know it stems from jealousy. The Belcourt
brothers are a hot commodity, and luckily for me, I’ve experienced them all—though never
simultaneously. Yet.
People are gonna speculate forever about the Belcourt brothers. Their name is famous, after all. I’m
not gonna take anything anybody says about me to heart. Besides, nothing can ruin the high I’m on this
evening.
“Whoever this girl is, the one they have their eye on, she’s going to get hurt. Doesn’t she know that
the Belcourt brothers are known for playing the field?”
Yes, I know. You don’t have to rub it in.
I walk around the party looking for Matt and Evan. I see all number of models, business people,
some celebrities, and artists. I try to blend in and find my guys.
And then someone stops me and says, “Would you like to dance?”
I smile at him and politely decline, “I’m sorry, I’m just looking for someone.”
Dancing with another man is out of the question. I’d rather not be seen talking to a man, either. I
know that the brothers have a jealous streak, and I don’t want to tempt fate by making them angry.
I don’t see Evan or Paul anywhere, and I’m just about to give up the search when somebody grabs
my arm and pulls me off to the side of the house.
“Ouch, that hurts! Let me go,” I say, thinking I have an overly aggressive guest on my hands.
“Oh, Meg, you’re never gonna get away from me. You’ve been silent long enough, and now it’s time
to pay up.”
The voice sends chills up my spine.
Simon.
“What are you doing here? I thought you dropped off the face of the planet,” I say angrily, trying to
jerk my arm away.
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Did you think I was gonna give up so easily? Did you think I
wouldn’t know about the rumors that the Belcourt brothers have a new little slut? You’re nothing but a
tramp,” he spits at me as he throws me to the ground.
I note with irritation that I’ve got mud on my dress and that it’s all his fault.
“Simon,” I say defiantly. “You have nothing on me. I’m not yours to claim anymore. I want you out
of my life forever.”
He hisses, “It’s not that easy, Meg. You promised me information, and you haven’t delivered. Don’t
you remember what I said to you before you came out here? I told you I would ruin your life if you didn’t
get this done, and that’s exactly what I plan to do. But first, I want to taste that sweet little pussy one last
time.”
 “What are you talking about?” I don’t like the tone in his voice at all.
To my utter horror, I see the glint of a gun being pulled out of his pocket.
“I mean that I’m going to fuck you, and then I’m gonna kill you right here on the grounds of your
gorgeous fucking mansion.”
Suddenly, I realize that I’ve sorely underestimated Simon. He’s been verbally abusive for most of
our relationship, but it’s never descended into the physical. I didn’t even know he owned a gun.
His words make me flinch, and I don’t know what to say. I’m on the ground, vulnerable. I don’t see
any way out of the situation.
Maybe I could try to grab the gun from his hands? But Simon’s way bigger than me. No, I have to
rationalize with him. These can’t be my last moments on earth…they just can’t be.
So I try to reason with him. “Simon, didn’t you get my text? I’m right on the verge of finding the
will. Being with the guys is just a ploy to get into their minds. Maybe they’ll tell me where the will is at.”
My voice is trembling, and he can sense my fear. He preys on fear. It’s like a drug for him.
“No, Meg, it’s too late for you. Didn’t you know I had spies in the house? Did you really think I’d
set you off into the country, free as a bird? I know everything that’s been going on, and I know you haven’t
been doing your job.”
“Simon, please. Be reasonable.”
I say the words, but I feel like they’re falling on deaf ears. He has a crazed look in his eyes that I
don’t dare argue with. It’s as if he’s lost his mind.
I knew Simon wanted the fortune, but I had no idea he’d be willing to shed blood for it. This just
goes to show what kind of relationship I’ve been in.
Floods of memories come washing in—every insult and snide comment he’s delivered my way,
every single time he put me down. He was an abuser for sure, but now I see that he’s also a criminal. A
murderer.
My chance at life, at happiness, is over. And the last thing I’ll feel is his evil presence inside of me.
I’ll be raped and left for dead.
These are the last seconds of my life, and yet all I can think of are the guys and how devastated
they’ll be to find me like this—and to see all at once that I’ve betrayed them from the beginning.
I was on the brink of happiness—and now it’s all being snatched away. I should’ve known that it
couldn’t all be so perfect.
“Fine, Simon, have it your way. But you’ll never win. The fortune is beyond your reach, and the
sooner you realize that, the better.”
He kicks me hard in the stomach, and I gasp for breath, having the wind knocked out of me.
“Shut up, bitch. You are going to die, and no one will care.”
I close my eyes in fear as his weight bears down on me, and I feel him snatching at my dress,
tearing it to pieces.
 The last thing I see are scraps of silver fabric and the distant light of many candles illuminating the
party that should’ve been for me.
My perfect night has turned into my perfect death.
Chapter 37

Ian


“Ian, you are so hot. Doncha wanna recreate some memories? Remember when you fucked me in
this pool? That was also hot. I wanna do that again.”
This blonde bimbo is starting to bug me, and I regret ever having created a single moment with her.
What was I thinking?
If I had only known I’d meet someone. This girl pales in comparison to Meg. Everyone does.
Speaking of which, where is Meg? She said she was going to find my brothers, but that was a while
ago. I even see Paul and Evan by the bar.
Everywhere I look, I see masks and people having fun. It’s a dark whirlwind of people laughing,
dancing, drinking, and not having a care in the world. It’s as it should be…except there’s no Meg.
“Excuse me,” I say to the bimbo whose name I don’t know.
I walk through the party and try not to bask in the glow of attention that’s coming my way.
“Oh, Ian, over here. How are you, baby? It’s been so long,” this buxom brunette is saying. “How
about I come warm your bed up tonight?”
She’s all over me, and I have to forcibly remove her arms from around my neck.
“Another time,” I say, barely paying attention to who she is.
It’s starting to occur to me that we need a fresh guest list. It does no good to see all the women I’ve
fucked in one place. I guess before, I might’ve been into this behavior, but now I want none of it.
Is Meg turning me into a one-woman kind of guy? Maybe. But I’ve little time to think about it,
because I’m becoming increasingly paranoid.
I don’t see her anywhere.
“Ian, it’s nice to see you, man. It’s been a while. Here, take a shot with me,” this guy name Rob says
to me.
I slap his back and return the sentiment, “It’s good to see you, Rob. How you been?”
“Great man, business is going great, and so is life, you know? May I introduce you to Jennifer?”
I look at the beautiful woman flanking his arm and take note of the fact that she seems more
conservative than the type of woman Rob is usually into.
I take the proffered shot of vodka from him. “What’s this? Are you settling down finally?”
Jennifer holds out her hand for me to shake, and I do so cordially.
She says, “He is, and I have the ring to prove it.”
She flashes a huge diamond in front of my face, and I’m painfully aware of the fact that she might be
after Rob for his money. He’s loaded. He’s almost as blessed in the income department as I am.
But a second glance at Jennifer tells me she seems like a pretty okay gal. Maybe I’ve been jaded by
too many women who were only attracted to me based on my deep pockets.
I take back the shot of vodka and hope it does something to quell my anxiety about Meg.
I look at the ring and say, “Wow. Wow, that is great. I’m really happy for both of you. You’ve
probably done a lot of good for Rob here. He used to be a pretty wild guy.”
Rob laughs nervously and says, “Come on Ian, let’s not tell her too much about that.”
I take the cue and say my goodbyes. I don’t want to get him in trouble. Though he and I have had
many wild nights together.
It’s no use to bring that up now, though. He seems genuinely happy with Jennifer. It only reminds me
of my own situation and how Meg has lit up my life and virtually changed me.
The vodka, however, does nothing to tame my anxiety.
I make my way over to the bar, where I see my brothers holding court. There are guests mingling
about, trying to get a piece of the action.
I pull Evan away and say, “Hey, have you seen Meg? She came looking for you a while ago. Did
you see her?”
He looks happy, like he’s been enjoying his night.
But to my dismay, he says, “No. I haven’t seen her all night. I’m guessing she looks radiant. I
assumed I haven’t seen her because she’s hidden by mask or something. Where is she?”
“That’s the thing. She seems to have disappeared. It’s been a while, and I’m trying to find her.”
He offers me a drink—vodka soda—and I take it gratefully. I need alcohol to try to calm my spirit. I
feel gripped by this, like I’ve never felt with anyone else. When I don’t know where she is, it makes me
extremely nervous.
“She’s probably just gone to the powder room or something. Come on, hang with us, and she’ll
show up in no time,” Evan says.
His words should make sense to me, but there’s this part of my brain that’s preoccupied with her,
like maybe something’s wrong.
I tell myself that Evan’s probably right. I don’t need to be this controlling of her. Maybe she’s
having a good time. Maybe she’s met some new friends and will meet up with me later.
I decide to relax with the guys by the bar. I drink my vodka soda, and then I have another. And
another.
“In fact, make it a martini,” I say to the bartender. “Very dry, no olives.”
“Make that two vodka martinis,” Paul says, joining us.
“Where’s Meg?” he asks. “I haven’t seen her tonight. I know that she probably looks fabulous.”
“We’re not talking about Meg,” Evan says. “Ian’s becoming obsessed. He doesn’t know where she
is, and it’s starting to worry him.”
 “Well, how long has it been since you saw her?” Paul asks.
I check my watch. “Well, about an hour now.”
“She’s probably roaming around here somewhere,” Paul says. “Luckily, the bar is the perfect place
to be. She’ll probably make her way over here soon.”
“I hope so. Matt and I were just with her before she set off looking for you two. But Evan says she
he hasn’t seen her. So where is she?”
A look of concern spreads across Paul’s face, but he tries to hide it.
“Well, she’s made this party so damn dark and sultry, it’s hard to see anybody out here,” he says,
trying to defuse the tension.
My martini arrives and looks perfect. I take a long drink before someone touches my arm and takes
my attention away from the guys.
“Ian, this is my friend named Sam. She’s seen your name all over the papers and has always wanted
to meet you,” this girl named Leslie says.
“Hi, Sam,” I say into her shining eyes.
Under usual circumstances, this kind of thing would make me excited.
Sam is delightful enough to take to bed. Her straight, long blonde hair hits the middle of her back.
She’s wearing a tight, little black dress.
I’d usually be feasting on her by now, imagining myself pulling that black dress off and making my
way with her.
But tonight is different. I’m worried about Meg, and I can’t deny it. I’m not gonna be able to make
small talk for long.
“Hi, Sam, it’s very nice to meet you. This is my brother Evan. I’m sure you two will get along
famously,” I say, taking my martini and leaving the bar, much to Evan’s chagrin.
I’ve just set the woman on him, and I doubt he appreciates it. He’s as dedicated to Meg as I am. As
far as I’m concerned, there’s no one else in the universe besides her.
This is what she’s done to me. She’s literally turned my world upside down.
And I’m starting to get fucking pissed off by the fact that I can’t find her.
I circle the party once more and try to avoid making eye contact so that I won’t have to talk to
anyone.
She’s simply not out here.
I look in the cabanas and by the pool. I peruse the long tables filled with guests taking their fill of
caviar.
I’m just about to make my way inside when Paul comes to find me.
“Hey, Ian, wait up. Listen, I want to help you find Meg,” he says.
“Good. I’ve searched the party twice. She’s not outside. I’m about to go inside and look through all
the rooms. She better turn up fast, or I’m gonna call security.”
 “Good idea. I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.”
His words do nothing to soothe me. I can tell he’s just as concerned as I am. Ever since Meg’s been
at the mansion, one of us has always had an eye on her.
Even when I’ve had to go to town for business, I know that at least one brother is in the mansion
with her. Her safety is paramount, and I can’t have anything happen to her—especially on this night when
the mansion is filled with people.
I’m thinking myself very foolish for letting her leave my side. There are so many guests here that
she doesn’t know. I should’ve had security vet the place more closely.
I just wanted to celebrate. I wanted the evening to be lighthearted and fun.
I check my watch for the hundredth time and realize the fireworks are going to start soon. This is
the moment I imagined spending with Meg. I was going to show her the lights in the sky and then proclaim
my love to her.
That’s right.
I said love.
And I mean it, too.
It might’ve taken me this long to realize it, but Meg’s been capturing my heart since the first moment
I laid eyes on her beautiful, sexy body.
The fact that she has an intelligent mind and an honest soul only adds to her appeal.
I guess you can say I’ve become beguiled by her charms. I’ve never met anybody like her ever
before. She’s always offering up more layers for me to uncover.
I know we’re meant to be together, and I plan on sweeping her off her feet—just as soon as I can
find her.
Chapter 38

Paul


My heart is beating hard in my chest. So hard that I can barely hear myself think.
I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I just want to find Meg.
At first, I thought Ian was overreacting. But as the minutes began to tick by with no sign of her, I’ve
become worried.
We walk quickly through the party and through the hordes of people that have made their way in. I
look directly down, avoiding eye contact. The last thing Ian and I need are some partygoers grabbing us
and asking for attention.
I have no interest in coddling women I’ve previously bedded or in talking to people about my
deceased father.
Right now, Meg is the only thing that matters. I should’ve kept a better eye on her. I haven’t even
seen her this evening, and that in itself is worrisome.
We push our way into the house without being stopped by a single person. Ian and I take the back
stairs by the kitchen to avoid being noticed.
Our plan works, because we easily make our way up to the second floor where Meg’s bedroom is.
The door is sitting ajar, but Ian knocks gently to alert her to our presence.
Everything is riding on this moment. She better be in here, or else there’s gonna be hell to pay.
“Meg? Meg, it’s Ian. Are you in here?” he asks.
There’s no answer. Only silence. Dead silence.
We walk into her room and see that everything is left untouched. There’s no sign of her.
She’s not here, but her presence is. I see her lipstick and perfume lying on the vanity table. I see her
hairbrush and her clothes strewn about.
I see everything but her beautiful face.
“Fuck,” Ian says.
We’ve got a definite problem on our hands, but neither of us is ready to admit it. Instead, we text
our brothers to come join us in the hunt for Meg. Together, we can tear through every room in the mansion.
This is the only time in my life that I’ve ever cursed how fucking big the mansion is. There are too
many fucking rooms.
We split up and take the mansion by storm, searching every cubby and closet there is. She has to be
somewhere. She couldn’t have just vanished.
“Meg? Meg, are you here?” I find myself calling frantically every time I throw a door open.
 Occasionally, I come across a couple having sex on one of the beds. It’s something I’ve done
before, but right now, I just find it inappropriate.
“Get out. You guys get the fuck out of here,” I spit to their startled faces. “We’re looking for
someone!”
It’s time to alert security, and once I meet back up with Ian, I tell him so.
“I’ve already told them,” he says. “And I have all the household staff on watch. Everyone’s looking
for her now.”
“That’s good,” I say, more to myself than anybody else. “Security will find her. It’s what they do
best.”
He’s barely listening as we strip the house, room by room, looking for her. If only I could see her,
that gorgeous face, then I’d be appeased. I don’t care what the fuck she’s doing as long as she’s safe.
Eventually, we meet up with Matt and Evan.
Everyone’s on high alert now. Her absence is conspicuous. She’s been missing for too long.
“We need to look back outside,” Matt decides.
This is a fact we’re all dreading, because the party is mainly happening outside. That means we’re
gonna have to dodge our guests left and right.
Nothing is gonna set me back from finding Meg, though. I’m determined. I’m on a fucking mission is
what I’m fucking on.
“What is she wearing?” I ask Matt as we go outside.
“She’s wearing a backless silver dress. And the damn mask, of course. I don’t know why we ever
made this a masquerade party. I can’t tell who anybody is.”
I grunt in agreement, because suddenly, the dark and moody atmosphere of the party feels opposing.
To me, it feels like the walls are closing in, as I realize Meg might really be gone.
I know she never would’ve left of her own accord. Something must be wrong.
Panic sets in as I look through the many party guests and try to find a silver gown. We look behind
every bush and tree. We circle the party twice before venturing out farther across the extensive, perfectly
maintained lawn and gardens.
I search by myself through the gardens, wishing they weren’t a maze of rows of towering shrubs and
flowers. Normally the gardens relax me, but tonight is a different story.
Everything is steeped in darkness. I can’t tell where I’m going as the blackness of night envelops
me.
Eventually, I emerge on the other side.
She’s okay. She must be somewhere. Surely, security would’ve seen her go otherwise.
I go toward the tennis courts. At least there’s some light over there.
She can’t be far. If she’s not here, then I don’t know where she could be. There’s the forest beyond
the estate, but that’s about it. It’s just wilderness after that.
 My brothers are headed in the same direction. I’m ahead of them by half a mile.
And then, to my horror, I hear Meg scream.
The sound causes me to run—and I run fast. She sounds terrified. I can’t get to her quick enough.
I run towards the tennis courts, which are brightly lit, save for one corner.
That’s where she is.
I see her crouched on the ground in the midst of an attack. There’s a guy between her legs ,and he’s
just about to hit her over the head with the butt of his gun when I approach.
I come up behind him and forcibly wield his arm back until I hear a crack. The guy cries out in
pain.
I have the advantage. I pry the gun from his closed fingers and look at Meg.
Her dress is torn to bits, and she’s bleeding and covered in scratches. She looks horrified. Her
makeup is smudged from so much crying.
“Meg, I’m here,” I say. “Get out of the way. Now!”
She does what I say and tries to roll away from underneath the man, but the guy has a firm hold on
her, gripping her legs and causing her to cry out in pain.
I start to see red as I realize he’s hurting her. He puts up a good fight, but I pound on him as hard as
I can.
He lets go of her leg, so he can punch me in the face a couple of times. I don’t even feel it. I feel
nothing but hot, powerful fury.
I’m gonna make him pay, whoever the fuck he is.
I’m going to fucking make him pay.
Chapter 39

Evan


The guy spurts blood, which covers my suit jacket.
Good.
I see my brother beating the guy who’s attacking Meg into a pulp.
Also good.
Luckily, we got here just in time to save her—and to stop Paul from killing the dude.
Maybe.
As far as I’m concerned, he can die. But of course, that won’t be good for our permanent records. I
can’t have my brother going to jail forever.
And so I do all I can to pull Paul from his moment with the guy. I pull him off, and he falls to the
ground, face crazy with rage, hands covered in blood.
“It’s okay, Paul, we’ve got him. You’ve got him. You did it.”
He’s breathing heavily, and he spits blood out of his mouth.
I see Matt and Ian attending to Meg before making sure the attacker’s done for. They get a couple of
final punches in, and when they’re satisfied, they back away from the bloodied heap of a man, gesturing
for Meg to follow.
She scrambles to her feet, and her torn silver dress exposes every limb that’s battered and bruised.
She looks like a mess. She looks absolutely shattered.
“I thought I was going to die,” she sobs. “How did you find me?” Tears streaming down her face.
Matt rushes to her side. “Baby, we’ve had eyes on you since the moment you came here. When we
couldn’t find you, we went fucking crazy. We tore apart the place.”
She cries and falls into his arms, holding onto his neck for support. He lets her cry and puts his
arms around her.
The asshole on the ground starts to scream belligerently, “You guys don’t know what you’re doing.
She’s a fucking whore. A whore! You hear me? She’s been spying on you this entire time.”
The guy slumps back to the grass, likely because so many of his bones are broken. But that doesn’t
shut him up for a second.
“She’s my girlfriend. You understand me? I have rights over her. Not that I would want the bitch
now.”
This causes a newborn sense of fury to rise in my chest, and I personally walk over to him and do
the honor of kicking him hard in the gut.
 “Shut up,” I say, stomping on his broken body.
There. Now we all get a turn.
Ian’s calling security to alert them to our position. They’ll arrive soon, and this creep will get his
dues…in jail.
Meg is still crying, “He was going to rape me. He said he would rape me and then kill me.”
“It’s true,” Paul says from his position on the ground. He looks at me and hands me the gun. “He
was just about to use it on her when I found them.”
I shudder to think of what could’ve happened. I take the gun, ensure it’s locked, and put it in my suit
pocket.
“The cops will be very interested to see this,” I say calmly.
The guy keeps screaming and ranting, “I’m not going to jail. You’re the ones who stole my fortune.
You hear me? You stole from me.”
We look at him and then we look at each other. I have no idea who this guy is. I have no idea what
the fuck he’s even talking about.
And frankly, I don’t care.
But Ian does.
“What the fuck, man? You better speak up quick before the police get here.”
The guy looks at us, bitterness etched on his face, “Your father was fucking my mother. And he
deliberately left her out of his fucking will.
“I damn near made it as a Belcourt brother!” The guy is practically going mental. “You
motherfuckers think you’re so hot. You’re nothing! And I’ll find a way to get my portion of that billion-
dollar fortune. It was supposed to go to me!”
I look at him for a long moment and realize what he’s saying. This must be that guy Simon.
I knew my father had some kind of mistress, but I had no idea her son was such a wild, raving
lunatic.
The pieces are all clicking into place in my mind, and yet I still have no idea how Meg is involved.
He’s ranting and raving as the security team comes and finds us. They look at him, and they look at
us. They know better than to ask any questions.
I hand over the gun, and they haul him off, dragging him across the grass.
And then all four of us go to attend Meg. She’s clutching onto Matt for dear life, and I can only
imagine how afraid she must be.
If we had been here a second too late, it might’ve been all over for her.
I check her over for any other wounds.
“Baby, are you hurt? Did he hurt you in any way? Did he...” My voice trails off because I can’t
even say the word.
Rape.
 Thinking of that sleazeball hurting her in that way makes me fucking furious like nothing ever has.
She’s quick to say, “No. No, he didn’t get away with it. He was close, but you guys came in time.”
I sigh with relief. Had that happened, I’m not sure how I would’ve handled it. I might have to break
into the jail and kill the guy myself.
Thank God he didn’t touch her, save for a few scratches. But the fact that he came so close makes
me realize how quickly my life could have virtually ended. If something happened to Meg…if she
disappeared or died or anything else, I’m not sure I’d ever get past it.
And it takes this moment of absolute horror for me to realize that I love the girl.
I’m in love.
There’s no use denying it now. All I want is to wrap her up and take her to safety. I want to envelop
her in my arms and make her feel like everything is going to be okay.
I pick her up in my arms and start walking back to the house.
She looks into my eyes. “Evan…”
I look down at her, and our eyes lock for a second. Both of us know what this means. Both of us are
feeling the same thing.
I don’t need to explain the feeling.
It’s love. Nothing more. Nothing less.
She knows that I love her. Our connection is as strong as ever. It’s made stronger even by the fact
that I almost lost her.
It was too close of a call, and I vow to myself to get bodyguards on Meg. Her life is about to
change, because I’m going to make sure she’s safe forever.
“Baby, let’s get you back to the house and into a warm bath. You’ll feel better after that.”
My brothers follow me towards the mansion. We walk along the outskirts of the property, hidden by
the dark shadows of many trees. We’re careful to take Meg through a side entry.
It would do no good to have the party abruptly ended by this. If that happened, the gossip columns
would go crazy, and we’d make Page Six for sure. I don’t need any word of this getting out.
As far as I’m concerned, Meg is my little secret, and I want to keep her that way. I want to keep her
safely in the confines of my arms and of my house.
From this day forth, I’ll do everything I can to protect her and make sure this kind of situation never
happens again.
She’s light as a feather in my arms. Her dress is tattered into a million pieces. There are bruises on
her arms and back. Blood spills from superficial scratches.
I take her to my wing of the house, where we proceed to undress her and to look over her body for
any other damage.
“I swear to God, if he hurt you, Meg, I’ll kill him. I swear he’ll be dead by morning.”
She lays her head against my chest and whispers, “He didn’t. You came in time.”
 My brothers and I surround Meg and draw a warm bath for her. I lift her up and sink her body into
the water, and she gratefully submits.
She looks up at us and says, “You guys, I…I have something to tell you.”
Chapter 40

Meg


Evan’s washing my back with body soap.
The warm water soothes my aching muscles.
Ian’s shampooing my hair.
Matt gently soaks down my legs and feet, which are covered in bruises.
And Paul caresses my breasts with a sudsy loofah.
My four guys are here tending to my every wound...my four rescuers.
I never thought I’d need a knight in shining armor until tonight. Tonight I looked death squarely in
the eyes, and I was not afraid. My only regret was not getting to live out all the days of my life with the
guys that I love.
I thought for a moment that happiness would evade me, but I was wrong. Fate had other plans than
my untimely demise, and I can hardly believe this moment is real.
The tub and the men make me feel warm and safe.
And yet I’ve just said that I have something important to tell them, but they haven’t wanted to hear
it. Instead, they’ve gone about taking care of me first, making sure I’m alright.
The four of them tenderly wash me down, and I watch the water turn pink with the color of blood
from my scrapes.
Simon dragged me across the yard to a secluded place away from the party. I put up quite a fight,
and I have the bruises to prove it.
With satisfaction, I think of his crazed and twisted face as the cops took him away. He deserves
everything he gets. And I finally have my escape from him, even if it did come at a close call.
I wasn’t gonna let him kill me just like that. I’m not some weakling that he can take advantage of.
Even though I almost died because of him, at least I fought back.
He was inches and seconds away from raping me, but luckily these four gallant men arrived just in
time. I was so sure that it was over.
The shock of it is still keeping my body on high alert. I feel as if my senses are in overdrive.
Everything seems hyper-real.
I can hardly believe I made it to safety and that I’m sitting in a warm soaker tub right now.
Letting myself go feels so good. And so does the feel of muscular hands taking care of me.
Inside, I know that I have a horrible truth to tell. The moment is finally here—I will lay all my
cards out on the table and admit my wrongdoing.
 I’m not sure how they’ll take it. They’ll likely give me the cold shoulder and cut me out of their
lives. It’s a risk I’m willing to take to relieve myself of the burden that has come with carrying Simon’s
secrets.
Yes, I’ve been an accomplice, but not by choice. They should forgive me, right? They have to
forgive me, or I fear my heart will burst in pain.
For all I know, these could be my last moments with the guys. I might be kicked out tonight. I doubt
they’ll ever want to see me again when they learn what I’ve done to them.
Yes, I greatly underestimated Simon. And thank god he’s gonna get his due. I imagine he’ll spend
some time in jail for sure.
But none of that erases the fact that I’ve been betraying my men all for the sake of money—for the
sake of appeasing Simon. Granted, it was Simon who made me do it, but still.
I’m wishing I’d told them earlier about my precarious position with Simon. I’m wishing I’d made
things right before it became too late and my hand is forced. Now I look guiltier than ever.
They rinse me off, and Matt offers his hand to help me out of the bath. I stand naked before them,
vulnerable.
They towel me off, but they making no move to cover my naked body.
Ian drenches my sore muscles with oil and starts massaging my back. Evan combs my hair
carefully, and it’s cute how he’s awkward with a brush.
Once they’re satisfied that I’m clean and taken care of, they hoist me up onto Evan’s massive
California king.
In the middle of the bed, I snuggle up with the blanket and think of my descent. With the guys around
me, expectant looks on their faces, I know it’s time to reveal all.
It’s now or never.
Paul brings over a bottle of scotch. I need a drink like never before.
He pours me some, and I take it down in one gulp. Then I offer the glass back to him in a gesture for
more.
He pours me another drink, and I sip on it.
“Take it from the top,” Evan says.
This is it. This is my moment of reckoning.
There’s no more running. There’s no more hiding. It’s time to face the truth that I’ve been trying to
hide for so very long.
I look into each of their handsome faces one final time, savoring the moment of these men adoring
me. I know it’s the last moment they will.
With a deep breath, I say, “It all started like this. Simon was my boyfriend. I’ve been in a
relationship with him since college. He’s the only guy I’ve ever been with...before you guys came along.
And he’s also Joan’s son. As I understand it, she was your father’s girlfriend or mistress or whatever you
want to call it.”
I can hardly meet their eyes as I continue. There’s a hushed silence in the room as they take in what
I’m saying.
“Simon has been furious with your family for leaving him out of the will. He and Joan are all about
the money. They’ve been vying for your father’s fortune ever since the day she met him. The thing is...he
never married her. And thank god for it. She would’ve taken everything. But as it is, Simon sent me here
on a mission. I came undercover as a maid, and I was supposed to dig up dirt on your father or to
somehow get my hands on the will.”
Now I stop, not for dramatic effect but because I’m starting to feel choked up. I can barely go on.
This is the last thing I want to do. Describing my betrayal is more painful than I could’ve imagined.
Ian looks at me sternly and says, “Go on.”
Fuck. It doesn’t look good for me.
I take a sip of scotch and say, “Okay, well, I came here under false pretenses. But then I met you
guys, and you all were so great to me. I swear I haven’t been faking anything. What I feel for each of you
is so intense that it’s been consuming me from day one. The thing is, I had Simon on my back. I found the
will and I took a picture of it, but I promise you that I destroyed it and never sent it to him. Simon recently
cut off contact with me, and I figured that was the end of it. I thought maybe at last I was free. That is, until
tonight.”
My hands are trembling around the glass of scotch. I take another sip, hoping it can do something
for my nerves.
“Anyway, I refused to do his dirty work any longer. He came to the party, pulled me aside, and
threatened to rape and kill me. I really thought that was it,” I say, my eyes brimming with tears.
To my total shock, the guys embrace me. They hold me tightly and whisper soothing words into my
ear.
“It’s okay, baby,” Ian says.
“We don’t think less of you,” Matt says, rubbing my back.
I look up at Paul, and he pours me some more scotch. “The thing is, Meg, you didn’t betray us in the
end. You did the right thing.”
What? Are they seriously forgiving me right now when I can’t even forgive myself?
Their reactions catch me off guard, and I suddenly feel shy, undeserving of their praise.
“How can you forgive me just like that?” I say, feeling bewildered.
Evan holds me tight. “Because, Meg, you’re ours. We never doubted you for a second. You don’t
have a harmful bone in your body. That’s been obvious to us since the beginning.”
With that, I’m swept off my feet both emotionally and literally. They take me in their arms and start
to consume me.
The shock I’ve just been through melts into happiness as my deepest and darkest desires are coming
true. All the guys began to take me at once, and I realize for the first time that it’s okay for me to love them
all.
And that’s the truth. I do love each one of them equally, but in vastly different ways.
I sink back down onto the soft pillows and let them devour me.
Chapter 41

Matt


She looks so fucking fragile, as if one of us can snap her in two with the flick of our fucking fingers.
Those huge smoldering eyes of hers are flooded with emotion. Guilt is there too, etched in them.
And something else—something I can’t put my finger on.
Instead of feeling anger toward her, I’m furious at this fucking prick of an ex-boyfriend. He’s such a
fuckhead I can’t even recall his name.
I’m like that. Introduce me to some loser and I won’t take in a damn thing about the person.
I know I don’t need to retain anything about the ex. That’s why he’s called the fucking ex-boyfriend.
How someone as fragile, exotic, and beautiful as Meg ends up with a loser like what’s-his-fucking-
face is beyond me. But then, of course, it makes sense. She’s vulnerable.
Like any of us, she wants to be loved.
I sigh.
How can I, how can we, show her how much we care for her? Laying there in the black sheets, with
her skin so white, I know exactly what I want to do to her. I want to fuck her.
With a wink at Ian, I get his attention. No need to have a fucking conference about it.
“How about it,” I murmur, not taking my eyes off Meg.
If the others weren’t in the same room, I’d be on her already. My mouth would smother her in kisses
before fulfilling her every fucking need.
Ian’s blue eyes fixate on me. He’s got an intensity that would unnerve anyone opposing him. No
wonder he’s such a fucking successful lawyer.
I mean, if he weren’t my brother and I knew him from way back, I’d be scared.
For a moment, I’m taken back to our childhood days. I used to play all kinds of pranks on Ian.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” he asks, and I smile.
“If you’re thinking about fucking Meg, then heck yeah. If you’re thinking about one of your fucking
cases, then no.”
As one, we catch the eyes of the other two.
“How about it, Meg?”
Meg barely lifts her head. I can see her tear-stained cheeks, and I want to just kiss those away.
Surely a good fuck would help her get over this ordeal faster than any other kind of therapy. I mean,
sure, we can ring for a shrink now, get her the best fucking medical treatment money can buy, but that
won’t fucking fix her.
 “I...” Meg starts and stops again.
The shock is still sitting deep with her.
I take a step toward her and open up the zip of my pants. Instantly, my massive cock is exposed.
“Care to help me with this?”
The second her eyes feast on my manhood, she’s already brighter. She pushes herself up on her
elbows, and the corner of her lips curl up ever so slightly.
It’s not quite a smile, but it’s getting there.
“Don’t forget we’re all here and may need help,” chimes in Ian, and he drops his pants between his
ankles.
My other two brothers are quick to join in.
“I…” She’s still not able to form a proper sentence. I put it down to the shock of it all and not to her
being an unwilling participant.
I mean, she confessed what she was here for and thought we were going to send her away. In a way,
I don’t blame her for thinking along those lines. I mean, she’s partly right to worry.
If it weren’t for the fucking good we see in her, we would send her fucking packing. As it is, she’s a
fucking star—a pure, unadulterated star—and I refuse to see her as anything less.
“I suggest though we take appropriate measures to make sure our prize doesn’t get away.”
Ian turns toward me, and I nod toward the massive, dark oak chest of drawers. He comes back with
some ties.
Before Meg even knows what’s happening, we’ve tied her spread-eagled onto the bed. Each hand
has a silk tie around the wrist, which connects it to the corner bedpost. Her legs are bound the same way.
When she realizes her predicament, Meg tests the boundaries and writhes from side to side. It’s
fucking sexy the way her white curves glide over the black sheets. It takes every ounce of self-control not
to fucking jump her bones right now.
“Relax, babe,” Matt coos. “You’ll be looked after.”
He turns to us. “Rocks, paper, scissors to work out who gets her pussy first.
I shake my head. “Fuck no,” I grumble. “I thought of it, I get to fuck her first. You work out who gets
the blowjob.”
There’s a feeble noise from the bed, and we all stare at Meg.
“I could try and...” she trails off.
Her mouth is open just a tiny bit, and I see the tip of her tongue.
“You guys take turns on the face, I get the pussy first.”
Without another word, I approach Meg’s naked body. There really are an awful amount of bruises
on her.
The fuckwit really had tried to make a mess of our Meg.
For the first time I’m thinking about her in terms of ours. It sounds fucking awesome.
 “Now then, my fucking little vixen,” I tease her.
My index finger trails along the inside of her thigh, pausing at and circling around each bruise. She
flinches a little, but her eyes speak volumes.
My cock’s so fucking hard it demands I enter her without any further foreplay. But where would the
fun be in that?
By the time my finger reaches her pussy, I can see her juices flow already. Tiny moans come from
her battered lips, and I see my brothers head for her head.
Since she can’t use her hands to hold any of their cocks, they’ll have to help her as best as they can.
Ian straddles her chest before the others. It doesn’t take long for Paul and Evan to come along side
of him.
Meg’s emerald eyes shine with lust, and she turns her head from side to side, working out whom to
take into her mouth first. Ian just opens her mouth and shoves his massive cock right in.
This is my cue.
Radiant bliss is pulsing through me, and if I don’t fucking touch this girl soon, I’ll go up in flames
or explode.
Instead of using my fingers, I bury my face between her legs. My nose sucks in her sweet scent, and
my mouth instantly feasts on her wetness.
After I give her a good suck, my teeth find her clit and bite into it, tearing at it like a wild dog with
a bone.
I can feel her hips writhe to get me to do more. She fucking wants more. Briefly, I pull away and
look at her.
My three brothers take turns in using her mouth to fuck her.
There’s no distress as far as I can tell, and so I plunge right back in where I left off.
It’s time to turn up the heat. My tongue now assaults her pussy, darting in as far as I can and pushing
up into her until I’m sure I’ve reached her G-spot.
When I hit it, her pelvis thrusts upward despite her ties.
She’s fucking hot and ready.
And, in a way, I don’t blame her. I myself won’t be able to hold out much longer.
At the same time, though, I want to make this last as long as I can. I let my tongue dart in and out,
searching, probing, finding.
When I hear a low scream from her, I stop. My eyes travel upward. All I can see is the naked,
sweaty muscles of my brothers.
Tiny sweat beads roll down her stomach, and her tits are wobbling from side to side.
Right now, she’s got Ian’s cock in her mouth.
Watching my brother’s fuck her in her delicate bruised face nearly tips me over the edge.
Fuck.
 My cock is hard...searching, yearning, demanding.
I get into position. I put the tip of my cock right at the opening of her pussy, and then I just shove my
length right into her.
The way her tight pussy grabs my cock sends explosive sparks through my body, and I can feel
myself tense instantly.
Fucking hell. Meg is a real sex goddess. She knows her stuff, instinctually.
As I piston in and out of her, with more power than a V8 engine, the walls of her pussy clutch onto
me, as if she doesn’t want to let me go. She’s milking me for my cum.
At this rate, it won’t be long before she gets what’s she’s after.
Meg switches cocks and is now giving Evan the pleasure of her hot lips. Matt and Paul are now
bent over her tits and have one in each mouth.
The sight is enough for my body to start shivering, and my juices to build up deep down in my balls.
Fuck.
I increase my rhythm and tempo. My hands grab her hips, and I lift her upward with each inward
thrust.
Meg herself pushes her hip upwards to meet me. We seem to be in perfect harmony.
Evan’s back is arching, and I can see him pull out of Meg’s mouth and shoot his cream-colored cum
all over her.
It’s just fucking like Evan to come before me. With two more final hard thrusts, I myself come
inside of her. Load after load, I shoot into her tight pussy.
The way the muscles now grip my cock, vice-like before relaxing, I know she’s also coming.
Breathing heavily, I pull out of her and look at Ian for a hint of what’s next.
“How about we get some of the toys?” Ian grins and heads to the chest of drawers.
Now that I can see Meg’s face, I notice her cheeks are a little flushed, and she’s covered in Evan’s
cum.
“Before anything else, someone needs to clean her up,” I announce and look around.
Chapter 42

Meg


Having three fucking cocks dangling in front of my mouth is like living in some kind of alternate
universe based on my deepest desires.
Having a fourth guy fuck me with his massive cock is the icing on the cake.
If I were to die right now, I’d still have regrets. I regret ever meeting Simon and going along with
his stupid plan. But in this moment, all of that is erased.
He almost made me meet my end, and I still can’t believe I’m in this happy position, being fucked
by all the men at once. And Simon is on his way out.
I mean, he gave it one hell of a go. He hadn’t calculated my resistance and my four knights in
shining armor.
With my pussy free again and Evan’s cum covering my face, I’m kind of tingling with a cocktail of
emotions. I’m brimming with anticipation, a little bit of fear, a bucket load of lust, and enough desire to
fill a swimming pool.
At the words she needs to be cleaned, my insides summersault with joy. Will they sponge me
again, lick it off, or use a hand towel? The possibilities are endless.
With my arms and legs tied to the bed, I’m defenseless and can only wait for what’s in store.
So far, my body’s coped surprisingly well. The pain from Simon’s brutal attack pales insignificant
when showered with a ton of pleasure.
The second my eyes feast on those three massive cocks, I thought I might just pass out. When I took
turns sucking on them, each and every one of my pores filled with molten lava pouring through me. At one
stage, I feared I might liquefy.
“I say we leave her the way she is till we’re finished with her.”
“What do you think, Meg?” Ian asks, and I blink a few times to get a better look at him.
He’s holding something in his hands.
What is that?
“I can’t...” I start, but I’m not sure what answer they expect. “I can’t see very well,” I finally
confess.
Laughter greets my response.
“Trust me.” Matt’s real close now. “You don’t need to see anything…yet.”
The primal tone of his voice sends shivers down my spine. Try as I might to catch a glimpse of him,
I only see a haze of their faces.
 “I agree,” Evan says.
“You never know, she might even prefer not being able to see what you’re going to do to her,” Paul
adds.
At his words, my heart rate picks up. What have they planned for me now?
Will they stay considerate of my battered body? I gnaw my bottom lip and suddenly wonder at the
wisdom of my decision to agree to this.
“I don’t know.” Matt’s voice now is right near my ear. “Let’s at least clean her eyes so she can
watch.”
His finger wipes over my left eye. Then he holds it in front of my mouth.
“Suck it,” he commands, and I open my lips to lick his finger clean.
He then does the same with my right eye. When I release his finger with a loud pop, heat spreads
through me. A pressure builds deep within me, behind my belly button, and I fear if something doesn’t
happen soon, I might explode.
As if reading my mind, Paul appears between my legs. His fingers caress the inside of me.
Someone else, maybe Ian, is caressing my belly, and Matt’s pinching and pulling my nipples.
All this attention makes me feel as if I’m floating, weightless on a bed of feathers through the night
sky. My mind’s empty, and I’m so light—so light a single cloud holds me up in the sky effortlessly.
Just as I revel in this amazing sensation, it all stops. It stops suddenly as if someone turned an off
switch somewhere.
The next thing I feel is a hard pinching on my nipple and between my legs. Frantically, I search for
the source of discomfort.
I gasp. They’ve attached clothing pegs to my nipples and inside of my legs.
“How about it, boys?” Ian asks. “Shall we add some more?”
Before there’s a response, Paul clips one onto my clit. Shock waves ripple through me.
I shiver and shift my hip. The movement only intensifies the pinching of the other pegs.
Part of me wants to rip these things off, and the other wants to beg for more. No words come across
my lips, though Evan peers at me.
His lips come down on mine. There’s no warmth in him, no...he’s forcing himself on me and
demanding to be let in.
As I struggle to breathe, I feel his tongue reach down to my tonsils, and my mind goes completely
blank. If someone were to ask me my name right now, I wouldn’t have a clue.
At the same time, something or someone is caressing my skin around the pegs with the lightest of
touches. I’m not sure, but it feels like a feather is tickling my skin. Everywhere it touches, my skin is left
tingling and burning.
Holy shit. If this keeps going much longer without either one of them fucking my pussy, I think I’ll
just go mad.
 Wouldn’t that make for interesting admission papers to a psych ward? Patient admitted due to
having lost her mind while fucking four men.
Four men.
Shit. I’m really fucking, or being fucked by four men. I’ve had each one of them on their own, but so
far not together.
It seems unbelievable that my life has taken this turn. I’ve gone from nearly dying to finding
happiness.
Can this be my happily ever after? Can my life have a fairy tale ending?
I mean, I still can’t quite come to terms with the four of them just forgiving me like that.
Fuck. If they’d sent me packing, I would have totally understood. Heck, I was half tempted to just
pack my bags and go without waiting for them to show me the door.
And yet here they are, fucking me.
All at once again, the sensations stop. Someone takes the pegs off. For a while they just stare at me.
This makes me feel worse. Self-doubt creeps in again. Had I celebrated too early?
Had they only lulled me into a falls sense of security to give me one last fuck before they show me
the door?
“I...” I start to say, but Ian stops me.
“Don’t fucking talk to us while we work out a strategy.”
Ouch.
I don’t have to wait too long to find out what the strategy is. I hadn’t seen Evan leave the room, but
I see him come back in. He’s carrying something in his hand.
He comes to the bed, and I see he’s holding a bowl. When he’s next to me, I see him take a spoon,
and something warm and sticky drizzles onto me.
Evan makes sure I’m covered from head to foot in molten chocolate.
“A little sweat treat before we get down the real business.” He grins.
They attack me with their tongues like savage beasts. It sends my senses into hyper drive. All I
want to do is touch one of them, feel one of their cocks, or have one of them in me.
The more I writhe to try and make contact, the more they avoid me, except for their tongues licking
the chocolate off me. It’s pure fucking torture.
I’m not sure how much longer I can stand this. No one can survive this much fucking pleasure. If I
don’t explode, I might liquefy or simply melt.
Eventually, after numerous unsuccessful attempts with my mouth to catch a bit of cock, Paul hovers
in front of my face.
“After this?” he teases and leaves his massive cock just out of reach.
My neck strains to move upward to no avail. And then laughing, without warning, Paul shoves his
cock into my mouth.
 The surprise has me choke a little as he shoves hard and fast as far in as he can. It seems he wants
to reach down my throat.
With a slight adjustment of the head, I accommodate him. I’m so grateful for some attention, so I
suck on him hungrily.
His hands have found my hair and are pulling on it. It sends further shock waves through me, and I
think I might come any second purely from all the teasing, pleasure, and pain I’ve been living through.
Paul must be close to coming himself because he rides my face like I’m a wild stallion needing to
be tamed. I feel his balls smack against my chin, and I wish I had my hands to squeeze and roll those fat
suckers in my hands.
Unlike Evan, Paul comes inside of me, and I make every effort to swallow his entire load. At one
point, I cough a little but manage not to spill a drop.
When he pulls out of me and releases my hair, I hear Ian say something about a reward.
“Let’s untie her and really fuck her,” Matt says.
Hearing his words lights a fire in my belly—a flame that spreads through me faster than a grass
fire.
The minute my hands are free, I grab the first cock near me and start running my fingers along its
thick shaft.
Ian moans. His fingers find my tits, and I can’t wait to see what’s in store for me now that I’m
untied.
Chapter 43

Ian


I love a good show, particularly if I’m the star attraction. Okay, so right now I’m not the main
attraction. Meg is, but I’m one of the stars.
As I feel her hands on my cock, tiny fireworks explode in my head and increase in intensity. I’ve
never fucked a woman who’s had this effect on me.
Meg is one special witch. I call her my witch because of those green eyes of hers.
When they look at me or my brothers, I’m convinced she’s casting a spell on us. How else do you
explain the hold she’s got over us?
And just fucking look at us. She confesses she was going to do something not in our fucking best
interest, and what do we do? Forgive and fuck her.
Okay, it’s not like I’m suggesting we show her the door, but man oh man, we’ve got it bad for her.
We dominate her when we fuck, but really the little fucking witch is dominating us all the time.
Her fingers play me like a magic flute. Up and down she runs them. Then she taps them as if my
cock’s a flute and she wants to play it.
Her tempo ranges from adagio to allegrissimo. It sends me nearly into apoplectic fits.
Finally, I can’t stand it any longer, and I pull out of her grip.
She’s now totally untied, so I grab her and roll her onto her front. It’s time for more than one of us
to have his fun.
I know just the way for all of us to make use of her fucking hot body.
With her ass now winking at us, I rub it and knead it as if it is bread dough. Quickly, her milky skin
turns a faint shade of red.
She’s coming up on her arms as Matt is standing in front of her on the edge of the bed.
This is fucking perfect. We seem to work in unison. Of course, we’re brothers, but that doesn’t
mean we’re the same. In fact, we’re all different, and yet we know how to read each other and particular
situations.
I can tell my brothers are on my wavelength. We each want a piece of her for ourselves, and yet
we’re happy to share.
It’s odd how we’re so competitive with so many other things. Over time we’ve tried to steal each
other’s women, and yet, with Meg it’s different.
She’s a witch for sure, and she has us all under her spell.
Paul and Evan circle my beautiful girl, and I make sure I stay behind her. I’m going to claim her ass.
 I’ve got no problem with sharing, but Matt already beat me tonight to her pussy, so I need to make
sure I stake out my territory. There’s no fucking way I want to be beat to the post again.
It’s not as if Meg’s not up for it. Sure she’s had a rough night, but judging by the way she’s sucking
on Matt’s cock and the way her ass is wiggling from side to side, she’s more than fucking ready.
If Matt hadn’t been the first one to suggest we fuck her, I would have. No fucking point leaving her
in this great big bed to wallow in self pity, succumb to a terrible nightmare, or worse, spend the night here
all alone, tossing and turning because she fucking can’t get to sleep.
No, Matt’s suggestion was fucking spot on.
By now, Evan’s slid under, and I can see him suck on her dangling tits. He may even be biting into
those delicious pink-looking rosebud-like nipples of hers. They’re tempting and taste as good as they
look.
Her body’s twitching, and I can see her pussy is dripping. She’s well and truly ready.
Before I enter her in her most private part, I should make sure she’s well lubricated. My index
finger finds her pussy and scoops some of the juices.
Slowly, I trace a trail up to her ass and around her hole.
“Are you ready, baby, my little slut? Can you handle it?”
She says nothing, and I take that as my cue to go in.
I slap her ass and make her cry out despite the cock down her throat. I gotta say, she’s handling us
like a pro. Most women just couldn’t take it.
Briefly, she stops sucking on Matt’s cock and tenses her body. But now I’ve got the tip of my cock
at her opening and massage her gently. I pry her open and shove the tip of my thick cock into her.
She cries out, and I attempt to soothe her but keep pressing my cock in. She likes it. Pretty soon,
pain will turn into pleasure, and she won’t be able to remember her name.
“Call me Daddy,” I say gruffly through clenched teeth.
“Yeeesss, Daddy, yes, please give it to me!” she screams before Matt forces her mouth open again.
“Good girl,” I say, slapping her ass hard.
She’s fucking tight and tense. The boys, seeing her reluctance, intensify their stuff.
Instead of pulling out again, I decide to go hard-core and just pummel right into her. And my plan
works. After just a few short thrusts, she not only relaxes but also meets me on every inward push.
Now it’s Evan’s turn to make his move. Without interrupting my rhythm, he pulls Meg on top of his
waiting cock.
We’ve done this before, and I know how to make fucking sure my cock’s coming out as he’s going
in. It takes less than a minute for us to get into the perfect rhythm. Meg’s body melts into us.
Her curves are perfect for my hands to grab onto, and I just catch sight of Matt coming in her mouth
as I increase my own speed.
Harder and faster, I thrust into her. Below me, Evan’s doing the same.
 And since Matt’s had his pleasure of a blowjob, Paul now has his cock in her mouth.
So as not to miss out, I see Matt grab the feather and run it along the base of her neck and down her
back.
How she’s not melting beneath us is beyond me.
My own fucking body is so hot and super charged I think I can see the static fly off me and rival our
current electricity supplier.
Just imagine if this was a new way to create power. If so, we’d generate more electricity than the
world could handle, just us.
A good fuck always leaves me in a better fucking frame of mind.
The hot flesh beneath me is tensing.
“You can’t come yet, Meg,” I growl.
I don’t want her to fucking come before us. She has to come after us.
At my words, I see Meg tense her body and briefly stop bobbing up and down on Paul’s cock.
Evan below me is grunting and fighting me for her. He’s close to coming. I can tell form the way his
body is tensing up.
I wish he weren’t quite there yet, but I can hardly command him not to come just yet, although it
might be entertaining. I mean, we all fucking know. No one tells Evan anything.
Of course, none of us really like to take orders from anybody. We’re all successful alpha males,
basking in our success and enjoying being number one.
Thank goodness we’re all in different fields. If we weren’t, the sparks would fly higher than they
are right now.
With my own electrical grid about to short circuit and feeling Evan explode into Meg like a giant
volcano, I know I’ve only got one or two more thrusts in me.
I give it all I’ve got and pummel harder and faster into her.
And then I erupt in her and shoot my huge load into that tiny private hole of hers.
I can feel the cum drip out as I keep squirting load after load into her.
“Now you can come,” I growl, and I’m not sure, but I hope Evan’s going to use his finger around
her pussy to give her a hand.
But it seems not necessary.
As I say for her to come, she’s shaking violently, and I can feel her own orgasm take a hold of her.
At the same time, I see Paul take his cock out of her mouth.
When my body stops shaking, I pull out of her and collapse on the bed beside her. Evan rolls Meg
off his body, and Paul quickly grabs her.
He does not waste any time. I watch him lift her legs and drape them up over his shoulder.
“Tell me how badly you want it, baby,” Paul says.
The words are quick on her lips. “Yes, Paul, oh fuck. I’m coming again.”
 Then his cock pushes into her. She’s still got Evan’s cum dripping out of her. Paul doesn’t care, and
I realize he’s the only one who hasn’t fucked her.
We gather around the two of them, and I lock lips with her while Matt and Evan take a tit each.
Paul does not take long to shoot his cum into her overfilled pussy. And with all the extra attention,
Meg comes again.
In the end, we all collapse in a bundle of arms, legs, heads, and cocks onto the bed.
Meg is in the center, and we each touch her somewhere on her body. I’m not sure, but some of the
bruises on her body have already intensified, and I fear they’ll only get worse before they get better.
When I think what might have happened tonight, I still fucking can’t believe it. I want to envelop
her, to protect her forever.
We all want to dominate her and to have her within our grasp. I don’t care which of my brothers she
takes, as long as I’m there next to her the entire time.
I know that what we have is special and fucking different. I can trust our connection. It’s intense,
and she feels it too.
She curls up into a little ball, trying to control the spasms in her body. We surround her and lovingly
stroke her back, her lips, and her hair. Then we all collapse in a heap of exhaustion and sleep the night
away.
It’s not fucking bad sharing Meg.
Chapter 44

Meg


Matt’s cock slides in and out of my mouth.
Ian takes ownership of my ass, and he’s telling me to beg for it.
Paul’s spanking me, forcing me into submission.
And Evan is going to town on my pussy.
I’m so close to coming. I can’t hold back any longer.
They’re telling me to wait. They’re telling me it’s not the time to come. And they’re telling me that I
don’t say when...they do.
All of my efforts go toward holding back. How much I want to obey them. I hold my orgasm and
ride the waves of pleasure that are ascending and descending in rhythmic tones.
My whole body feels like it’s going to explode. With every second that I wait, the buildup becomes
stronger.
I moan and scratch at the sheets, at their arms, at anything I can get my hands on. But the problem is,
my wrists are held together by a silk tie. I don’t have free control of my hands.
They’re fucking me and going to town on me.
I can’t hold back, not for one more second.
I snap my eyes together and try to hold on for the ride.
And then to my final happiness, I hear one of the guys say, “Now, baby, come right now.”
In that instant, I let myself go, losing all control and all inhibitions. I moan out in pleasure.
I cry their names. I come violently to the point that my body is quaking.
But even as I do, they don’t hold back. They continue to fuck me so that my orgasm continues one
into another and I’m sent to the edges of oblivion.
Blackness.
Stars.
I’m floating above my body. I feel so fucking light.
They continue to fuck me until their pleasure is had.
And then simultaneously, we’re all coming together at the exact same time. Hot cum shoots in my
mouth, my ass, and in my pussy that’s throbbing and tight.
I haven’t known pleasure such as this. New realms of bliss and unchartered territory have become
my new domain.
They force me to expand, to explore, to find the edges of pleasure. I didn’t know it was possible to
feel this full.
There’s no escaping it. There’s no escaping them. This is my new life.
I arch my back and cry out in tortuously good pain only to feel hot cum shooting down my throat,
muffling my cries.
At last, it’s over, and they all pull out, leaving me in a sticky, messy, cum-laden heap on the bed.
I curl up into a little ball and try to deal with the sensations that are still pulsating throughout my
body.
My head is dizzy. I can’t walk. I can’t move.
I’m oblivious to anything beyond my vibrating body. And yet in the middle of my utter nirvana, I
hear the sounds of men talking.
“Look at her. She’s fucking gorgeous, and she’s all ours.”
“She’s not even here. She’s in another world.”
“God, her pussy’s so tight. I want more.”
“Do you think she’s okay? Wake her up.”
And then I feel gentle hands on my face and body, trying to rouse me to life.
“Baby, wake up. You’ve been sleeping for a while now.”
My eyes flash open, and I see their faces. My men. The Belcourt brothers.
“Hey, you guys,” I say groggily. “That was fantastic.”
“What are you talking about, baby?” Ian says. “You’ve been sleeping for over ten hours.”
I sit up, feeling startled, and say, “Wait, what? I just came like a million times.”
They look at me with amusement written all over their faces.
Matt says, “You were dreaming, baby. And let me guess, you were dreaming of us?”
My two worlds collide, the dream world and the real world. I’m disorientated and unsure of what
just happened.
Instinctively, I slide my hands to my pussy that feels freshly fucked, and I see that it’s dripping wet.
But then I look at the guys, and they’re all dressed and it’s morning and the birds are singing.
“Oh my gosh, you guys, I think I had a dream,” I say, trying to orient myself to the world again.
How was that a dream? It felt surreal and yet so very good.
I look at their smiling faces and realize that it’s true, it was all a dream. And yet I remember the
way they fucked me all at once, and that was not a dream.
Paul is laughing as he says, “It’s nice to know that we’re there even in your dreams, Meg.”
I place my hands on my head, trying to understand what just happened, and I noticed that I’m not
tied up at all. I’m wearing my slip of the nightgown.
It was all a dream. It was all just an intense dream.
But then I see their faces and understand that my dream world is very similar to my real world.
The guys are mine. We’ve all come to the conclusion that this is a real thing between us. The guys
have become willing to share me.
My ultimate fantasy has become a reality, and I guess the excitement of that has permeated even my
subconscious mind.
“Come on, Meg,” Matt says. “We have a nice brunch for you all prepared outside by the pool.”
I rub my sleepy eyes and feel fantastic. As far as I’m concerned, I just came many times over.
But I know as I look at them that it’s okay.
They’ll fuck me all at once again. They’ll probably do it every day for the rest of my life. While I
was nervous that they’d make me choose between them, everything has come together nicely.
At last, there’s nothing to worry about—nothing to fear. I can let myself go and experience this
happiness without regret.
I get up and remove my slip. All the guys feast on my naked body. Then Evan offers me a silk robe,
which I take so that the entire household staff doesn’t see me naked.
I follow them out of my room, through the long corridor, and down the giant staircase. When we get
to the bottom, I look outside and see a beautiful brunch set up.
The staff is still working on it. Various maids put the finishing touches on a stunning table that’s
covered in roses and candles.
I put my sunglasses on and walk outside to a beautiful day. I feel like I’m living in a fantasy, a
dream, like the one I just had.
Is this my life? Is there really nothing to fear anymore?
“You guys, this is fantastic. When did you plan all of this?” I ask.
“While you were sleeping,” Paul says.
I take his hand and allow him to lead me outside.
A mimosa is waiting, and I take a sip.
It does everything to bring my body back to life from the intense dream sequence I’ve just been in.
It’s a new day. And it’s just the beginning of my happy ending.
Chapter 45

Matt


The sun shines on her auburn hair that curls its way down her back.
Her shining green eyes tell me that she’s happy.
That’s all I care about. The smile on her face is enough.
As I look at Meg and I look at my brothers seated around the brunch table outside, I realize that this
is our new life. I’m not gonna be the one to make her choose. She’s so evidently happy by being with all
of us that it makes me happy too.
As long as I get to dominate Meg and to have my way with her, the situation will work out fine. I’m
even grateful that the other men she’s fallen in love with happen to be my stepbrothers. I know that they’re
all coming from a good place and that she’ll never get hurt with us.
Suddenly, the idea of us all being together is okay. For once in my life, I don’t feel competition with
my brothers. All of that has faded away because of Meg.
I don’t feel jealous or envious or anything else. All I feel is the satisfaction of knowing that I can
have my way with her and that she calls my name with such need.
“You guys, this was really beautiful. Thank you for the brunch. Now I’m gonna take a shower and
think about working out.”
“You don’t need to do a damn thing to maintain your beautiful body,” I say to her.
She blushes, and my cock gets hard against my pants. I’ve finally found a woman who doesn’t fail
to excite me in every way.
Whereas before I felt jaded in every relationship and sexual experience I had, with her, it’s
different.
“Yeah, right,” she says, laughing. “I have to move my body every day or I don’t feel good. So
maybe I’ll go do some yoga in the workout studio.”
“I can help you move your body,” Paul says darkly.
The innuendo is clear. Meg flashes a smile at him and they exchange something...a look, a feeling,
something. I’m not sure what they have, but I refuse to waste time thinking about it.
Meg is mine also, and I know that we have something special, something not worth comparing to
whatever she feels for my brothers.
We all get up as she excuses herself from the table, and then we sit back down.
I watch her walk away as the silk robe does nothing to hide her fantastic curves.
Evan drinks his cappuccino and says, “Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?”
 I look around the table, and I can tell all our minds are set on one thing—making this work.
“I certainly am. She needs to have all of us, doesn’t she?” I say.
“That seems to be the case,” Ian says.
“So,” I continue, “Does that mean we’re gonna put our differences with women aside? Can we all
really share her and feel like we’re getting enough?”
My brothers nod in unison. There’s enough of Meg to go around. That’s for sure.
“Then this has to be our new normal,” Ian says, taking back a swig of champagne.
“I’m fine with that,” I say. “I think this could really work out, and you can’t deny how happy she is.
Am I right?”
“She’s happy and gorgeous, and I can’t get enough of her,” Evan says. “We can make this work. I
don’t even think it’ll be that hard.”
Meg has certainly worked her magic on all of us. I’m not even sure she’s aware of her powers of
seduction, but somehow she’s got the infamous Belcourt brothers whipped.
I don’t intend to be with anybody else. All I want is her.
In fact, I’m tempted to follow her to the workout room, strip off her clothes, and fuck right there on
the treadmill.
If this is the new normal, I’m in.
“I think we should surprise her,” Evan says. “I want to make sure of her happiness. I want her to
know that we’re always gonna be there for her.”
I sip my drink thoughtfully and say, “You’re right. You’re absolutely fucking right. She needs to
know that we’re all in this together and that we’ll never force her into a decision to choose just one of
us.”
“So what’d you have in mind?” Paul asks.
“Well,” Evan says, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. We need a place that we can all go in
this mansion that’s neutral. It won’t do to have us fighting over turf. We can fuck her individually
whenever we want, but together, it must happen in the same unbiased place. I think we need a designated
space for that, like a sex room.”
His eyes are ablaze with lust and seduction. He’s definitely thought about this for a while. And it’s
a perfect idea.
“That’s it, Evan. You thought of the perfect plan. And we can have any manner of toys in it,” I say.
“I can have some of my guys in construction start building it,” Paul offers. “It’ll take a few days, but
we can get it done soon.”
I look around the table, and all of us seem to be on board. To think of taking Meg in a designated
sex room, where all manner of dirty things can go on, makes me hard just thinking about it.
I look around the table, and everybody seems to be in.
“So it’s decided then?” Evan says.
 We all agree, and then we finish our brunch before going our separate ways.
I have some business to attend to that I do in my home office. With Meg here, I never want to leave.
Someday I’ll take her to my penthouse in the city. Someday she’ll be a part of my real life outside
the fantasy of mansion life.
But for now, it’s enough to think of having a designated place to fuck my beauty.
A sex room...why didn’t I think of it?
She’ll be surprised and likely a little hesitant. She’s innocent and unobstructed, perfect for me to
leave my mark on.
That guy Simon did nothing for her by way of sex. I can tell by her inexperience. She was in a long
relationship with him, and yet she knows nothing.
I can fix that.
I plan on showing her the world and beyond.
She’s mine to mold to my liking, and there’s nothing better than a blank canvas to start from.
Chapter 46

Meg


It’s quiet for once.
I can hear myself think.
The roar of saws and hammers has finally ceased.
The guys have shrouded the mansion in mystery as they’ve developed a little project. It’s been a
construction zone for the past few days.
All I’ve heard is the sound of drills and banging, workers stomping in and out of the house.
I know the guys are planning a surprise, but I can only imagine what it is. Are they building me my
own suite? My own wing of the house?
I simply can’t tell because they won’t let me go anywhere near the construction site. All I know is
that something’s going on, and I’m deliberately being kept in the dark about it.
I sit in my room and brush my hair lazily while looking out the window at the sun-drenched pool.
I’m ready to go in.
Life at the mansion is idyllic. There’s nothing to compare it to.
It’s a gorgeous place to live. But more than that, I’m starting to develop relationships with all of the
guys. There hasn’t been any fighting or competition for me, and it feels good to have them back off of
competing with each other.
I really could never make a decision between the four of them, and I’m grateful that they haven’t
been pushing me to do so.
I slip into my bikini and get ready for another day of relaxing by the pool. I wonder how long I can
keep this up. I love having absolutely nothing to do all day.
Is that so wrong?
I put the black strings in place on my barely-there bikini and then walk through the house. The staff
has gotten used to seeing me here, and even Mrs. Simmons seems okay with my status as “the live-in
girlfriend.”
It’s hard to believe I started off working here.
Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t mind getting my hands dirty if I had to. But the guys have been very
explicit in their request that I do not have to work. They like seeing me free to do whatever I want.
And while someday in the future, I might get bored and want to find a job, for the time being, I’m
content to be their little sex slave and not much else.
Just as I’m about to go outside into the gleaming sunlight and perfect my tan some more, Evan grabs
me by the hand and says, “Are you ready for your surprise? Have you noticed that the mansion is totally
silent?”
“Yeah, I have actually. Where did everyone go?”
“The construction crew is gone, and we sent the staff home for the day so that we’ll have maximum
privacy. Now follow me,” he says, taking my hand.
I tried to object. “Wait, should I change? I’m just wearing this bikini.”
He casts his eyes my way and looks at me with a certain amount of greed before saying, “No.
You’re perfect.”
I follow his lead through the mansion that must be at least 15,000 ft². It takes a long time to get from
one side to the other. But trust me, I’m not complaining.
We get to the wing of the house that faces west. There’s a huge curtain covering the doorway of
whatever they’ve built.
Evan pulls the curtain back and gestures for me to open the door. I turn the handle slowly, not
knowing what I’m about to see.
“Wait,” he says. “Let me cover your eyes.”
I pull back and allow him to cover my eyes with his hands. The door swings open, and I hear the
guys before I see them.
“Welcome to your little surprise,” Matt says.
Evan removes his hands so I can see what they’ve done. To my hesitation and delight, I find myself
in a dimly lit room.
The walls have black-and-gray ornate wallpaper covering them. There are plush rugs on the floor,
a fireplace, and to my total surprise, all manner of sex toys hang on the walls and are featured atop long
buffets and tables.
Ian clicks a button and soft jazz music begins to play. There are candles everywhere and rose petals
on the floor.
Most of all, what I see is a commanding bed in the center of the room. It’s big enough to fit all of us,
and it’s covered in soft surroundings.
“You guys, I honestly don’t know what to say.”
The room is beautiful and sumptuous, but it literally takes my breath away. I feel shivers going up
my spine as it registers what might happen in here. Already the men have shown me bliss that I could
never have imagined.
This room seems like it will help them to continually push my boundaries.
I feel nervous and shy and yet also excited.
I never knew I could feel love such as this, sex such as this.
Timidly, I walk in and admit my true feelings to them. “It makes me nervous.”
Paul’s quick to come to my side. “That’s kind of the point.”
 He takes my hand and leads me around the large room.
I examine all manner of sex toys. I see leather whips, ropes, and fur-lined handcuffs. There’s a tie
rack featuring expensive silk ties. I see the label “Armani.”
There are nipple clamps, blindfolds, and gags. I even see a sex swing in the corner.
Dimly lit sconces are strategically placed along the walls. Long velvet curtains cast out any light.
He leads me into an extra large closet that seems to be made especially for me. There’s a line of
extremely tall high heels for me to choose from. There are leather outfits and lace lingerie.
Is it wrong to say that the closet is my favorite part?
Paul chooses a tiny piece of leather lingerie and offers it to me.
“Put this on. Find some heels to match.”
The closet’s aligned with mirrors. I carefully step out of my bikini and examine my body.
My heart is thumping against my chest. I’ve never felt this anxious to do anything in my entire life.
With this room, they’ve taken our relationship to the next level. I knew I was submissive to them,
but I could never imagine it would be like this. I’m excited and scared all at the same time.
I step into the lingerie and fasten the garter belt. Then I pick out some extremely high, patent-
leather, black heels.
I love that Paul has just chosen this outfit for me. The idea of him telling me what to do arouses and
unnerves me.
Timidly, I look in the mirror one final time. I toss my hair and give myself a little pep talk.
You can do this. You’ve got this. They’ll show you what to do. Just relax.
Then I walk out of the closet and see the guys standing semi-naked at various points throughout the
room. Their rippling abs are on display, but most of all, I note the desire that flashes in each of their faces.
They want this, and so do I.
Matt walks over to me, and without a word, picks me up in his arms and throws me down on the
bed.
“We made this room for you, Meg, because we want you to be happy. And because this makes us
happy. This is our way of showing you that we’re all in this together. You’ll never have to choose
between us. We care about you and are committed to making this work.”
His words bring relief as I consider what it means. This room is their way of showing me that it’s
okay that I’m in love with all of them.
I’m delighted beyond all measure. But at the same time, I feel cautious about just how vulnerable I
am to them in this moment.
It’s four hulking, muscular guys against me. I’m the focus of their adoration and conquest.
They want to bring me down to my knees, to make me beg for it.
Before I have to think too carefully about what might go on, they come to me, and it all begins.
I gulp and step forward.
Now it all begins.
Chapter 47

Matt


She’s spread out on the bed, open to my advances.
I see her shiver slightly, and it makes my cock hard in an instant.
I’ve been dying to see Meg this way, under my total dominion, and here she is. She looks like a
treat in her leather lingerie.
With pleasure, I note that she tries to close her legs and to preserve her modesty. Seeing her squirm
under my gaze makes it all worth it.
“Don’t be shy, Meg. It’s only me,” I say in a villainous tone.
Pushing her legs apart, I make room for my body that far outweighs her own. Then I languidly kiss
her up and down her thighs, making her tremble underneath my touch.
Her vulnerability means everything to me. I want to control her...always.
I push the leather aside and trace my tongue along the outline of her wet pussy. She’s nervous, and
that gets me going even more. Her nerves make my desire more intense.
She should be like that with me. She should never be at ease but always on high alert to whatever it
is I might crave.
Her pussy responds to my tender licks and kisses. She tries to squirm from underneath my grasp,
but I pull her in tightly with my strong arms.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I murmur in between kisses.
She attempts to stifle her cries, but I can still hear her and how much she wants me.
Ian takes off his jeans and walks toward her.
“Ready for me, baby? I want to be down your throat. Open wide,” he says.
She follows his command, and he pushes his thick, large cock down her throat, and she can cry no
more. Her sounds are muffled by his cock, but I know that she wishes to cry out my name.
“This is just the beginning,” Ian says. “We have so much to teach you.”
Tonight we’re going to show her unbounded ecstasy like she’s never experienced before. What
were we thinking, competing for women? Together with our talents, we are much more effective.
I rotate my tongue around her clit, flicking it open before inserting a couple of fingers. With
pleasure, I see that her pussy is tightening, clenching around my hand. I find her G-spot and start to move
my fingers in a circular motion.
She moans around Ian’s cock as he pushes it further down her throat. She fights her gag reflex.
“Open your throat, baby,” he coos. “Take it all in.” She obliges, and he says, “Thatta girl. Take it
even deeper.”
And he doesn’t stop pumping into her even as she starts to choke.
I do my job of trying to bring out her pleasure. She’s bucking violently toward my mouth.
“Wait for it, baby. Don’t come until I say so,” I say.
Ian leans over her. “Your throat feels so fucking tight. Show me how badly you want it, Meg.”
Evan sucks on one of her tits, and I grab the other. Just a palmful is all I need, and she has the nicest
breasts.
I breathe hot air into her pussy and continue rotating my fingers.
At last, when I know she can’t take it anymore, I give her the command. “Now come. Do it now.”
She does as I say and easily let’s go. Her cries are muffled by Ian’s cock, but he gasps and comes at
the same time she does.
I envy him and want to push my cock into her somewhere. I can tell she’s having an intense orgasm
because her body starts to pulsate and fresh juices squirt into my mouth.
Ian groans as he sprays his cum down her throat. She swallows and is at last free to cry my name.
“Matt! Oh, fuck, Matt, that was so good.”
I smile a devious grin and push my cock into her sopping wet pussy. I’m going to make her come
again and again and scream my name even louder.
Ian’s done. He removes himself from her chest, giving Evan some space. He’s been waiting in line
so patiently.
He straddles her chest and starts to fuck her tits.
She says, “Mmmm, Evan. I want you to come on my face. And you guys, I want Paul, too.”
I’m taking her so hard that I hardly hear what she has to say. Paul comes in and joins us.
I have to pull out so we can flip her over. I get beneath her little body and allow her to ride my
cock for a while. Such a glorious view of her tits from down here.
Paul gets the lube and then comes behind her. He pushes her chest down toward me, so he has
adequate room to fuck her from behind. He covers her asshole in lube and pushes a finger inside of her.
He slowly works the finger in and out of her. When he feels she’s loosened up a bit, he pushes the
second finger inside her hole.
I can feel his fingers through her body as I’m pushing into her. She’s riding my cock almost
violently as she tries to take in what Paul’s doing.
Evan toys with her tits from beside us.
She’s free to cry our names, and she does. “Oh, you guys, fuck me, please.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” I say, feeling pleased.
Paul takes his fingers out, and she cries, wanting to feel full again. That fullness is what she
desires, and we’re going to give it to her. She has no idea just how much.
“Fuck, Paul. I want more. Please give me more,” she says, begging for it.
 He happily obliges, but only by inserting a couple of fingers. We’re taking it slow to make her need
us even more.
I can see it all taking place from my vantage point beneath her tight little body.
We continue on like this for a while, and I notice with satisfaction that her eyes are starting to roll
into the back of her head.
I hope she can grin and bear it because there’s much more to come.
Chapter 48

Meg


The feel of Evan’s mouth sucking on my tits is thrilling.
His warm lips envelop me in a sense of love and safety.
His teeth, forcing my erect nipples to harden even more, cause me painful pleasure.
Electricity shoots from my breasts and down my pussy that’s throbbing around Matt.
I look into his fire-glazed eyes and realize it’s not over yet. Matt guides my hips in a rhythmic
motion so that his cock circles around inside of me.
From behind, Paul is starting to get aggressive. He pumps two fingers in and out of my asshole, and
it’s starting to hurt as he stretches me out.
Evan teases my tits, and there’s a glint of darkness in his eyes. He knows exactly what he’s doing
and how torturous it is.
I love the feeling, but it’s torture all at the same time.
The guys start to tear at my lace and leather lingerie. Now I get why the closet is fully stocked.
They mean to destroy everything in there at some point.
Evan rips the fabric away from my breasts so that he has easier access. My tits heave as I breathe
in hard, trying to keep up with all the sensations.
My eyes see men and madness. There’s candlelight and dark walls, toys meant to torture and entice.
And then I’m consumed, seeing faces—handsome faces—of the guys I love and the guys who force me
into limitless pleasure.
What am I getting myself into? It’s all too much and yet so very good at the same time.
Paul’s fingers find their way inside of me.
“Fuck, Paul, no. I’m not ready,” I say, trying to persuade him to hold back.
An earthquake is building within me, and I fear I won’t be able to stop. And they seem to know it.
“Get ready, baby,” Paul says.
I want him inside me, and yet I don’t. It hurts so bad, but it also makes me come so hard.
Matt’s cock feels so good, helping to take the edge off Paul’s painful entry. Together, they both
work to make me feel full and safe, to the point that I want to explode around them.
I’ve never felt this way before....thunderous pleasure erupts in all directions. I shut my eyes, moan,
and whimper, trying to remain steady as the walls come tumbling down.
They know what I need before I even say it. And I’ll never admit to this but...I like it.
Being theirs to command and claim is my ultimate desire. And being at their beck and call, at the
focus of their adoration, is everything to me.
I come hard, and my body shakes. A sense of full sexual expression overwhelms me as my body
takes over and my mind tries to take in all that’s happening.
Being the Belcourt muse comes with a certain amount of total submission that I find myself craving.
Thinking of being dominated by them all at once makes my climax all the more intense. I flick my
eyes open to see expressions of hungry desire. They have no intention of stopping, even though I’ve just
been broken open at the seams.
They want more...always more.
They anticipate what I need before I do. Their moves seem premeditated, and they bring me to a
new awareness of what sexuality is. While this is foreign territory to me, the guys seem well aware of the
path.
I trust them. I give in.
Matt guides my hips in a direction that pleases him around his cock.
“Finger yourself,” he says firmly.
I do it without delay. It feels so good to touch my clit while both men are inside of me. It gives me
some sense of ease.
Paul takes note of what I’m doing and lubes up his cock nice and well with spit. Then he pushes
into me, inch by slow inch. I cry out in pain that’s interspersed with pleasure.
“Paul, fuck. That feels so good,” I say through clenched teeth.
And just as I’m opening my mouth to scream, Ian approaches me with his large twelve-inch cock.
It’s straight and perfect and big.
He gets on the bed, and I open my mouth obediently to take in all of him. Now I’m full in every way
possible. Evan’s still playing with my tits, twisting them and biting them lest I ever could forget that he’s
there.
I have all of my four men at once, and I’ve never been so happy, so deliriously happy.
“Are you okay, baby?” Paul asks.
I breathe deeply around Ian’s cock and nod.
You can do this, Meg. Just give in and everything will be okay.
Four men are hard to take, especially all at once. It’s one thing to be the object of their desire, and
it’s quite another to experience it. These brothers are strong and powerful, and I’m feeling all of that right
now.
Paul begins to fuck my ass, and I feel the rising sensations of pleasure swirl within my belly. I feel
like I’m going to come and also like I don’t want to at the same time.
I want this experience to draw on forever. I want this feeling to envelop me for all time. It hurts, but
then it feels oh so very good.
Matt’s cock continues to torment me from the inside. As he hits my G-spot, my pleasure magnifies.
 Ian pushes his cock down my throat, and I’m grateful for it. There’s something about being so filled
up like this that allows me to give into the rising sensations of pleasure.
I’m going to come, and I don’t bother trying to express that. They can feel exactly what my body’s
doing.
I try to ride the waves of pleasure for as long as I can, but I come crashing down like a tidal wave.
My body’s convulsing from the intensity, and for a moment I lose all sense of time and space. The
guys continue to pump into me from every which way. I’m not sure if they’ve even noticed my orgasm as
they’re each so busy achieving their own climaxes.
I scream out around Ian’s cock in response to the wild amounts of euphoria taking me over. The
ecstasy I feel is warm and cold all at the same time, and I savor it.
Though a blackout is imminent, I know that if it happens, I’ll continue to be in good hands.
The triumph at making me come so hard is evident because all three guys start pumping into me
hard at the same time.
My orgasm rolls into the next one, and I can’t tell where it begins and ends. But all at once, Matt
comes inside of me, and so does Paul.
I feel hot liquid dripping out of my pussy and my asshole. They groan in pleasure.
Ian pushes his cock another inch down my throat, and then he pulls just in time to spray his load all
over my face.
My three men are satiated, but I can hardly tell because my head is in the clouds, in the far reaches
of oblivion.
They let me go, and I fall down to the bed, breathing hard.
Evan takes this as his opportunity to ravage me, and I have to say I’m still not done. There’s so
much more of myself that I can give. I miss the feeling of being filled up by my guys, and Evan helps to
assuage that.
I’m trying to lick the cum off my face, but Evan seems to like the site of Ian’s glistening essence all
over me. He takes a pair of nipple clamps and puts them around my still erect nipples.
It’s painful at first, but then pleasure spreads from my tits to all areas of my body.
He knows what’s happening and watches me feel the pain before taking me over with his body.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he whispers.
“I am...yours forever. I love you, Evan. I love all of you guys.”
A ravenous expression comes across his face, and I give in to the fact that this moment is only the
beginning.
Chapter 49

Evan


My brother’s cum glistens on her face, flushed pink with pleasure.
I’ve just installed the nipple clamps, and I can tell she’s never had this done to her before.
This turns me on even more.
I’m happy to have waited for this round to be over. Now she’s all mine.
“Meg,” I say in between kisses. “You are so fucking hot. Tell me that you want me.”
“Yes, Evan. I want you so bad.”
“Good girl,” I say.
I slip my hands between her legs so that I can finger her properly. Her pussy is tight and it’s hard to
get in. Her juices are comingled with my brother’s, but I don’t care.
All I care about is making Meg scream my name once more.
I find her G-spot and press my lips to her clit. I use my tongue to flick and torture it. Then I rub my
fingers over her secret spot that lies deep inside within her trembling body.
She wraps her fingers through my hair and pulls me in closer, obviously loving every minute of it.
The nipple clamps are doing the trick because she’s crying out already. The combined stimulus
should be enough to take her easily over the edge, especially considering she’s recently climaxed so many
times.
I’ll never tire of hearing Meg come. The wild moans that escape her system are just too much to
resist.
I enjoy making her contort in waves of pain and pleasure. Her come face has become my newest
desire—something I’m obsessed with finding.
“Oh, Evan, I’m coming already. I’m coming so hard,” she sighs.
Her body is like a beautiful flower which can’t contain itself once opened. She just keeps coming
and coming so hard.
I circle her G-spot round and round with my fingers, ensuring that I draw her pleasure out.
She’s climaxing so hard. My brothers watch her, and for once we’re not envious or angry at each
other. There’s enough of Meg to go around.
She never gets her fill, and neither do I.
Paul’s watching with fascination while Ian makes us some drinks. Matt looks like he’s ready to join
in.
I push my oversized cock into her tiny hole. She feels so nice and tight, and she’s screaming out my
name, begging for more.
“Evan, fuck, you feel so good. I could come again,” she says, almost whimpering.
Matt gets on top of her chest and puts his cock deep down her throat. She starts to gasp for air. This
turns him on more, and he pushes down harder.
I pump into her for a long time, making sure she remembers the feel of my cock. She tries to handle
both of us at once, and it never gets old watching her try.
Her whole body vibrates around my cock, and I know she’s had her release. My thrusts get more
powerful as I reach my own end. I don’t hold back.
She’s sucking Matt; otherwise, she’d be calling my name.
I use all my force to pound her tiny, tight little pussy. I fuck her so hard that her head starts sliding
off the side of the bed. Matt has to keep it propped up enough to take down his cock.
With one gasping motion, I spray my load inside of her. The feeling of it is so goddamn good. Her
warmth surrounds me, and I come hard and feel her tighten.
I’m addicted to her.
She moans lovingly around Matt’s cock. She’s aching for more of him, for more of us.
I know she’d be screaming my name, but her mouth is indisposed. I fall to the bed beside her and
take the nipple clamps off so I can suck her tits.
Her nipples are erect and hard. She wants it so very bad.
Matt fucks her mouth for a while, and she moans for it, for him. Before he comes, though, he pulls
out and places his cock squarely between her beautiful, round tits. He squeezes them together around his
cock and blows his load on her neck, giving her the famous pearl necklace.
She squeals excitedly and starts lapping up whatever remnants of cum she can. She uses her finger
to scoop it up and then she sucks it off her finger.
This girl might be innocent, but she’s also a fucking minx. By the way she’s lapping up Matt’s cum,
I can see she’s happy. We’re her fantasy come true.
Matt swings delightedly to the side of her and takes a drink of whiskey from Ian.
Ian comes to Meg, whose head is hanging over the side of the bed. He pours warm whiskey down
her throat and she gulps it up as best she can. Some of the liquid pours down the side of her mouth.
I pull her up for a kiss, tasting the whiskey on her mouth. She’s succulent and beautiful and all
mine...or should I say all ours?
Meg rolls over onto her stomach and says, “Oh my god, you guys. That was so intense. How does it
get more intense every single time?”
I look at her with satisfaction, thinking about how this sex room has certainly paid off. It was worth
every penny and every moment of construction. I can see us getting a lot of use out of this room.
Little does Meg know that we’re only just getting started. We’ve barely sampled the selection of
toys, after all.
 This ensures that we’ll never be bored, though that could never happen with Meg. Not for a second.
She’s exciting and I don’t know why. She’s innocent and yet also fiery.
What I love most is that we’re here to teach her something. We’re in control, and she’s not. That
makes me hard even to think about it.
We make love like this into the night. We sleep and we fuck. We get a snack...a drink. And then we
fuck her some more.
She’s ours to devour and to behold. She’s ours to do with what we will.
She’s finally learned that submitting means more pleasure. When she begs, she’ll get rewarded.
And she knows that my brothers and I are obsessed with her.
She’s never gonna be out of our grasp...not for an instant.
Chapter 50

Meg


“This coffee is fantastic,” I say with a smile.
The guys and I have taken to having breakfast outside on the terrace.
The grounds of the mansion are just too gorgeous to ignore. I try to be outside as often as possible,
at least until the winter months hit.
For now, it’s still summer, and my life is sunny. Every day with the guys is a new adventure. And
every single night we utilize the sex room.
I’ve become more comfortable with the many varieties of toys in there. They don’t make me do
anything that I don’t want to.
And yet, they’ve become the heroes of my life, introducing me to the ways and means of pleasure
that I didn’t know were possible.
My mind has been blown by the various avenues in which I can achieve climax. Whether by
handcuffs, kinky lingerie, or anything else that’s forbidden, I have come to know and understand myself as
a sexual being.
In submitting to them, I’ve found my inner goddess. By allowing myself to be controlled, I’ve found
the outer realms of bliss that were previously unavailable to me.
Sometimes I feel afraid and nervous, giving myself—body, mind, and soul—to these guys. But I
have found them to be generous lovers, and they always take my pleasure into consideration first.
There’s no more of this “Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am” that was the extent of my sex life with
Simon.
No, these guys, the Belcourt brothers, have shown me how the world can be...perfect.
With them, I feel more feminine than ever and more of myself than ever, too.
“Baby,” Matt says, taking my hand, “we know of your ever constant need for coffee. That’s why we
had the espresso machine installed.”
He pulls me in for a kiss, and I let him. The feel of his lips on mine is sensual and yet now so
familiar.
“I’m just glad you guys have taken to working from the mansion. I don’t know what I’d do if you
disappeared into the city so often,” I say.
They toss each other knowing glances, and I always wonder what that means. What sort of
messages do they exchange with each other behind my back?
As usual, I take my leave of breakfast so that I can go work out. It’s become a ritual and a steadfast
part of my day. I love to do yoga by the pool and to run at least three miles.
“Bye, guys,” I say, kissing each of them on the cheek.
They know where I’m off to and aren’t concerned. I guess you can say living in the mansion has
been the best thing for all of us.
They seem less stressed out by work than ever before. And now they’re more into me.
I walk through the house, wearing nothing but my silk negligée.
I take note of all the fresh flowers that have come in. I make sure the mansion is filled with all
manner of orchids, roses, and lilies. I think fresh flowers bring a certain fragrance and fresh vibe to the
place.
By now, the guys have set about building me my own wing of the house, complete with a master
bathroom that includes all the bells and whistles. I have my own clawfoot tub to soak in and an infrared
sauna to help me unwind.
My space, contrary to all the other rooms in the house, will be light and bright. I prefer white on
white.
The construction workers have been installing marble floors in my area and making sure I have the
biggest closet known to man.
I enjoy the fact that construction’s going on and that the house always seems to be humming with
activity. There’s never a dull moment here. If we can’t go to the city, the energy of the city comes to us.
I go to my room, intending to change. But I stop in my tracks...
There’s a little black box sitting on my bed.
I walk to it slowly and, with trembling hands, open it. Inside, there’s a huge diamond ring engraved
with the initials of each of my guys.
Tears stream down my face. Luckily, I don’t have to witness this moment alone. I turn around and
see the four of them standing there.
They’re quietly watching me with the ring, knowing that I’m now the happiest woman in the world.
“Are you guys serious? You really want this?” I say, trying to hide the tremor in my voice.
I can hardly believe this is real and that this life is mine. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any
better, it does.
Evan steps forward. “Of course, Meg. We’ve wanted this for a very long time. We just didn’t know
if you can handle it.”
“And now,” Ian says, “we know that you can. We know that all of us are not too much for you. You
can take it.”
I don’t hide my tears of joy. It’s been months and months of getting to know the guys.
They are a lot to take at once, it’s true, but I can handle it. In fact, I’ve come to expect and crave the
feeling of all of them.
“We love you,” Matt says.
 “And we want to be with you forever,” Paul says, coming to my side.
He holds me, and I swear I nearly faint in his arms. Sometimes the goodness in my life seems like
too much.
But now, instead of pushing it away and thinking it’s for someone else, I gladly take the reins of my
happiness.
I deserve this. I deserve the very best.
“So, what do you say?” Evan asks.
“Yes! Of course, I say yes. I love each of you, and today you’ve made me happier than I ever
thought possible.”
We embrace, and they kiss me all over. Everyone’s happy with the new situation.
A relationship like this really can exist, especially when love is involved. Indeed, love is the focal
point of my existence now.
After the proposal, I watch my life unfold in a variety of ways.
The guys immediately begin planning a party of celebration. But we determine that we should have
a special, secret ceremony for ourselves in the forest that surrounds the property.
I ensure that it’s decorated to my satisfaction. There are crystals dangling from the trees, and the
core of it all is very simple. My dress is simple too—a lace bohemian number that I believe accentuates
my best features.
More than anything, on this special day of our wedding, I don’t want to be covered up by makeup
and everything else. I want to be myself, unencumbered by superficial things.
I want the guys to know who they’re really marrying, me without a mask or facade.
The day is shining and bright. I take my time getting ready in my new wing of the house. My suite is
everything and more than I could have imagined.
But the wedding itself takes place at sunset. It’s just gonna be me and the guys.
They’re meeting me out at the aforementioned place.
I walk across the lawn barefoot to the special ceremony in the forest where we’ve inscribed our
names on the tree.
The guys are waiting for me, and they look ruggedly handsome. Each of them, however, looks like
himself. I’m marrying four separate, individual men, and yet our love unites us as one.
“You look stunning,” Evan says, taking my hand and leading me to the place of our special union.
All the guys pay me their compliments. But ultimately, the ceremony has a very serious tone.
We know what we’re getting into. We know this is for life.
We exchange our vows; each of us has written our own.
I say to them, “I will love you, from now until eternity. Just when I thought my life was over, you
saved me. Just when I thought happiness was out of my reach, you gave it to me. You each have become a
piece of my life that I can’t imagine living without.”
 We embrace, and I make sure each of the guys has a ring to signify my love for them. It also means
that another woman is definitely off-limits to them. They may be possessive, but I have my own territory
to protect.
Somehow, I’ve been the one to break the Belcourt brothers’ winning streak of bedding different
women every night. Their reputation had preceded them, but each of them has turned their gaze solely to
me.
And with the ceremony, I know that we’ll continue to explore and express our love for all the days
of our lives.
Just as evening descends upon the mansion, the party can really start. I might’ve planned the
ceremony, but the guys planned the biggest and most glorious party ever.
In my honor, and in honor of our marriage, the theme is a white party. Everyone arrives in their best
white attire—Chanel, Armani, and even some Halston.
It’s the perfect way to celebrate our love affair. I take turns dancing with each of the men. They spin
me around the dance floor, and I can feel all eyes on us.
“You look gorgeous, my bride,” Paul says, nearly sweeping me up off my feet.
I feel the outline of his strong muscles and want him to have me. I began to ache for him inside.
He returns my affection with desire in his eyes, and I know the moment will be soon.
Tonight will be like no other, because tonight we’ll celebrate our union for the first time—all of us
at once.
People might speculate as to what’s going on. People might talk about the new girl, the bride that
the Belcourt brothers have chosen. And I don’t care.
Let them gossip. Let them talk.
These relationships have become the foundation of my being, the center of my life. I know that
people might look at us with jealousy in their eyes, but that’s their problem.
I’m happy. And nothing can tear me away from that now.
The bodyguards have made sure that Simon is out of the country, and he’ll never return. Instead of
ruining my life, I ruined his.
The guys have inherited their billion-dollar fortune. Money may help our lifestyle to continue, but
it’s never the focus of our lives.
Abundance is ours, and we revel in it, but we don’t chase it.
Everything is perfect...well, almost.
If I’m honest, I have some nerves about tonight. Butterflies flutter in my stomach, and my pulse
quickens as I anticipate our union.
Likely it will be intense...wedding-night intense.
They’ll want it harder and better than ever before because it’s our special night. We’re going to set
a new standard for ourselves. Or rather, they will set the standard, and I’ll rise toward it.
 I’m drinking white wine and feeling a little bit tipsy when Evan grabs my hand.
“Follow me,” he says, and I do so obediently.
He walks me out in the gardens, past the party and all the glittering lights. He takes me back to our
exclusive place, the site of our secret union in the forest.
The other three men—Matt, Ian, and Paul—are waiting there. They all look happy. They all look
hungry.
They’ve had several plush rugs put down as a bed in the forest. Small lanterns guide the way.
Everything is illuminated with darkness and intrigue.
I was nervous about this moment, but I never dreamed it could be so special, so magnificent.
Carefully, they lay me down on the carpets. They peel the wedding dress from my body. I’m
wearing special white lingerie, just for them, knowing this moment would happen.
Matt strips me of my garter with his teeth.
Ian unhooks my bra and plants tender kisses on my breasts.
Paul is the first to go down on me, and he makes sure I feel everything. He’s gentle at first, and then
he becomes rougher when his craving takes over.
I start to feel warm and light. I start to feel waves of desire building.
Evan takes his clothes off, and I know this is the moment of my undoing. The ecstasy of tonight will
be like no other. I’m afraid, but that comes with the territory.
I breathe in deeply and get ready to experience new heights of pleasure, pain, and everything in
between.
 3 Men Of The House

An MFMM Romance



By Daphne Dawn


Copyright 2018 by Crimson Vixens
All rights reserved



This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.
This work intended for adults only.



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 Stacy


"We're almost there. Thank fuck,” Percy mutters under his breath, looking out the window. “I’m
fucking tired of being in here with you."
We’re driving through Southampton in the back of the limousine so graciously provided by Percy, my
captor. His father has just died—an auspicious heart attack—and we’re going to the palatial family
compound to hear the reading of the will.
"So very nice to hear, Percy,” I whisper, gritting my teeth and looking down at my hands, out the
window, pretty much anywhere but at him. “The feeling’s mutual. This is a fake marriage, nothing more
than that."
"Listen,” he tells me, turning on the seat to face me, his eyes narrowing into two thin slits. “Just
fucking do as I say. Be silent and act pregnant. You have one job—so get it right."
Percy is determined to inherit everything, including his father's company, Raine's Petroleum. He’s
somehow gotten his hands on the will and he knows what's required for the inheritance: whoever’s most
likely to perpetuate the family line will inherit the company—thus, my fake pregnancy.
Percy couldn’t get me pregnant anyway—he’s Percy, through and through. I'm sure he couldn't get it
up for me even if he needs to make a real baby, and even if he wasn’t gay.
I can’t even tell you how fucking glad I am about that.
I don’t want his affections, I don’t want to feel his touch, nothing. Because he's a total monster. I
shudder remembering the look on my dad's face when Percy came in and demanded I go with him.
Our fathers were once friends—partners even, but when Percy's dad, John, died, he took control of
the company. My dad was screwed out of his share.
Percy now claims my family owes him a ridiculous amount of money, and he basically took me as
ransom so that I could be part of his scheme to take over everything.
"You’re so sure this plan of yours will work,” I say, steeling myself to look over into his beady little
eyes. “It won’t. People won’t believe it—everyone knows that you're gay."
"It doesn't matter,” he chuckles, his eyes locked on mine. “All that matters is that fake baby you are
supposedly having inside you. That’s all they need to believe.”
"You evil, petty man,” I whisper, balling my hands into fists. “Karma will come back to get you."
"Shut up, you stupid little bitch. This has nothing to do with you, and as long as you're with me, you
better keep your goddamn opinions to yourself. Otherwise, I promise you and your family will be out on
the fucking street, just like Barbara."
He’s already taken the liberty of kicking his stepmother Barbara, his father's newest wife, out of the
house. I think about her, and how one day everything was fine and the next she’s virtually homeless.
John never amended his will to include her, and Percy knows it. I don’t know how he did it, but he’s
managed to read the will beforehand.
John apparently never thought he would die so young and so he never took measures to protect his
latest wife. Though he should have been smarter than that if you ask me.
Percy just kicked her out of her own home. That tells you plenty about how ruthless he is and why
I’m in this car, with this man. Pretending to be pregnant is apparently my only purpose.
"You know," I say to him, icy rage in my voice. "My father's never going to let you get away with
this."
He laughs like what I've said is an impossibility. "Your father has no choice. He knows I will ruin
him if he takes even a step out of line."
It quiets me down, just like he knew it would. I know Percy is holding something over my dad's head
but I don't know what, even though I’ve tried to get it out of him. It’s got to be big, though, and I’m really
concerned about whatever transpired between them. It makes me uneasy to think that Percy has my father
on some hook, to make him do as he wishes without recourse.
Just thinking about it is enough to leave me in a depressed state...as if I wasn’t heading there already.
I stare out of the window blankly, unaffected by all the houses and the grandeur that surrounds us.
I want nothing more than to be free…but for my father, I’ll do anything. I’d marry Percy a thousand
times over if it means my dad will be okay. This sacrifice is the least I can do for my family, to help them
out of this tight spot.
I only hope I don't always have to spend much time in Percy's presence. I can barely stomach it. His
soul is truly rotten to the core.
"We're almost there. If there are maids or anybody around, anyone at all, you better fucking play your
part. Act in love,” he tells me, a sick grin on his thin lips, so I can tell he’s enjoying this little game. Like
he’s getting off on this shit.
"That will definitely take some acting."
"Stacy, Stacy…fucking shut up already. I don’t give a shit about you. You could live or die as long as
you serve your purpose first."
"You’ll never get away with this." I keep telling myself this, hoping if I say it enough it will be true.
He smirks. "Oh, but I already have."
We pull up to a giant, wrought iron gate and I can see the place is like a fortress.
The limo enters down the long driveway that’s lined with flowers and trees. There are gardeners
milling about, but while the grounds are just stunning, nothing can excite me right now.
The place is pretty, sure, but I can’t appreciate any of the beauty because it also represents a loss of
freedom. This thought tends to distract from attractive architecture.
"Here we are, home sweet home."
I say nothing.
"You should be grateful that I'm putting a roof over your head," Percy says.
 "How could I ever be grateful to you for anything?” I look at him incredulously. I will never
understand how he can be so wicked. “I’ll never forgive you, Percy."
He shrugs. "Well, you don't have to forgive me or even like it. But you better plaster a fucking smile
on your face right now or it will be all over for your family."
I shoot him a dirty look but then do as he says. What choice do I have?
The driver opens my door.
"Thank you so much. I'm so happy to be home," I whisper, putting a fake smile on my lips. What’s
one more fake thing?
"Of course, Mrs. Williams. Let me get your bags."
"Alright, Albrecht, thank you," Percy says. "We won't be needing the limo for the rest of the day."
I look at the huge, imposing house and wonder how many days I will be stuck here, pining for my
escape from this deal.
How did this happen to me?
 Kieran


I'm waiting inside my father's estate, tapping my foot against the floor as I see the limo rolling up the
driveway.
I’m absolutely certain Percy has a plan to finagle my brothers and me out of our inheritance. He’s
always been a greedy motherfucker and I saw this coming from a mile away.
Our father died so suddenly, and I know that instead of grieving like he should, Percy just wants to
see how much of the family fortune he can take for himself.
He kicked Barbara out of this very house I'm standing in and that means Percy’s plan, whatever the
fuck it is, has already been set in motion.
That motherfucker must think the money is his already.
I hear the limo pull up and prepare myself for confrontation. He's not pulling this shit off on my
watch. And he definitely won't be expecting to see me here.
The minute he walks in, I try to throw him off.
"Hey, Percy."
My voice startles him. Good. I want to laugh when I see the nervous twitch of his eye. The fucker's
always been afraid of me. I’m taller, broader, and stronger than him and he knows that I see right through
him.
"Kieran? What are you doing here?"
"What do you think?” I say, unable to keep myself from smiling. Okay, so I wouldn’t stop myself
from smiling at Percy’s failure if I could. “I’m here to stop you from stealing our father's fortune."
What Percy doesn't understand is that I’m here to make sure he doesn't implement our father's will in
the wrong way.
I was adopted by John after my parents died in an oil well explosion. He took me under his wing,
and it was because of his guidance that I’m successful today.
I know our father didn't think Percy capable of such deviance, as he always played the perfect son,
but I always saw him for what he really is.
Percy gives me a look like I’m totally beneath him. "Well, our father's money has nothing to do with
me. He has his will all laid out. I don't even know what it says."
"Like hell you don't." I don’t even try to keep the sneer off my face.
Just then I’m the one caught off guard by the ravishing beauty entering the front door. I’m used to
seeing gorgeous women—and fucking gorgeous women—but nothing like her. She’s petite, with crystal
clear blue eyes, long wavy blonde hair, and a tight little body that makes my cock harden like steel in a
fraction of a second.
She walks in like she's timid, her anxious gaze letting me know she’s afraid—but of what? Percy
doesn't even bother to introduce us, so I do the honors myself.
"Kieran," I tell her, offering her my hand, my gaze roving all over her body. Fuck, she’s hot.
She smiles despite her morose mood. "Hi, I'm Stacy...Percy's wife." She cuts her eyes toward Percy
and some unreadable expression crosses her face.
The fuck?
Percy’s gay. This tells me all I need to know—he's definitely up to no good.
"Wife? How interesting that Percy’s taken a wife,” I say, chuckling as I cock one eyebrow. “I can’t
wait to hear all about it.”
Despite myself, I can't peel my eyes from Stacy. She’s fucking gorgeous—a woman who I’d be
working on nailing if she weren’t another man’s wife. Fuck, you know what? I don’t even care if she is
Percy’s wife. I gotta have her, even if she is the wife of my gay stepbrother.
Now there's a statement I never thought I'd make.
“Don’t even go there, Kieran,” Percy tells me, and I’m instantly irritated by the confidence in his
tone. “I might be bisexual for all you know. It's not like we've ever been close. And besides, my wife is
pregnant, so please don't upset her."
Wait, what?
"You're pregnant?" I ask her, taking the opportunity to rake my eyes over her pin thin body once
again.
She doesn't look fucking pregnant to me. Besides, the idea of Percy sliding his cock inside of her is
laughable. He’s gay, and he's never tried to hide it until now. Bisexual, my left nut. I don’t even try to
mask the snort of incredulity.
Stacy looks at me like I’m crazy.
"Yes, I'm pregnant."
I call bullshit.
"Well, congratulations, you two. What a stunning couple you make," I tell them with an amused
smirk.
She looks at me wide-eyed, and I feel my already hard cock twitch inside my pants. All I want to do
is take her upstairs and ravage her sexy little body.
I wonder what Percy has over her head to make her play this bullshit game of his. It must be
something. She definitely doesn't seem to be happy.
"Listen, Kieran, we've just returned home from a long trip. You can go ahead and leave." Percy’s
obvious dismissal grates on my nerves.
"This isn’t your home yet, Percy,” I say through gritted teeth. “The lawyers still have to go over the
will, so I’d suggest you not to get too comfortable."
"Well, I am Father's only legitimate son. So if I were you, I’d get ready to be financially cut off."
"You think Father still supported me? You’re wrong. I made my own fucking living, unlike you. I’m
just here to see that things are done right just as our father wanted, and to pay my respects. It's fucking sad
that his own blood doesn't see it that way."
"How dare you!” Percy growls, baring his teeth. “I don’t have any other interest than realizing our
father's wishes."
"Well, it wouldn't be unlike you,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “You always loved our father’s
bank account more than you loved him."
Stacy’s backing up toward a wall now, looking distinctly uncomfortable. I can see that she’s
frightened by what's going down. It makes me determine right now that I’ll get to the bottom of what Percy
has on her, so that I can get her out of Percy's clutches.
Percy keeps right on yammering. "Unfortunately for you, stepbrother, whatever you say doesn't
matter. Father's will is in the lawyer's hands and I have every intention of making sure that his last wishes
are granted."
"Percy, if only that were true. You, showing up here like this, have nothing to do with our father’s
wishes. And I’m going to find out what you’re up to."
He glares up at me through his beady eyes.
Okay, let’s think about this for minute. Percy’s just an unattractive asshole. He's small, slim, and
looks like a fucking weasel—which is his personality through and through. He's weak, and I will expose
the weakness that will undo his plans and will save Stacy.
He's actually trying to cloak his intentions, not that anyone would take him as anything but a snake. I
know all he wants is to get his hands on all of father's money.
Still, this charade of a marriage…why bother with that? What’s it all about?
"Well, I’ll leave you to it, Percy,” I tell him as I make my way toward the door, fishing the key of my
Aston out of my pocket. “But you better fucking remember what I said – don’t get too comfortable.”
I storm out and leave Percy speechless.
I know that Stacy is already skittish and now, most likely, frightened. I vow to check on her later
when I'm good and calm.
Just the thought of her has my still-hard cock straining eagerly against my zipper. So I make an
addendum to my vow—I’m going to fuck her as well. That’s just how I roll.
 Stacy


Percy at least shows me the decency of taking me to my assigned room.
And when I say assigned, that’s because this whole thing feels like an assignment—nothing about
being with Percy is fun.
It's not a real relationship; it's a sham.
We’re not even friends. In fact, I pretty much hate the guy. I see him as my enemy, and that’s as far as
we will ever go.
Percy ripped me away from my family and he forced me into marriage. He’s basically blackmailing
me.
I thought that the man I’d eventually marry would be a special one. I thought I’d walk up to the altar
with a man I love.
This was definitely not what I imagined.
Percy’s rotten to the core.
How long I will have to stay here and keep up this ridiculous charade?
At least my room’s separated from Percy's. As if that slimebag would ever sleep with me, as his
supposed wife. But thank fuck he won’t. The last thing I want is him crawling into my bed.
My room is spacious and full of light. There's an oversized bed with a plush white duvet, white rugs,
and white furnishings. A balcony looks out over the backyard that showcases an Olympic-size pool with
statues and fountains and other outlandish, over the top adornments.
I feel like stripping down and diving in. Maybe it would help me chill out a little. I'm hoping that a
house this size has a gym too, so that I can work out some of my stress and maybe get more toned. I may
be trapped and miserable but I don’t have to let myself go.
Even if I don’t find a gym, at least in this palatial mansion there’s lots of room to spread out and to
get away from Percy.
If I'm going to be trapped somewhere it might as well be here.
I remember the moment when Father begged me to go away with Percy. His eyes were pleading and
it broke my heart.
What Percy put us through is burned permanently into my memory. He was ruthless in his efforts to
tear me away from my family. If it weren't for Kieran giving me an actual bit of hope right now, I’d be
crumpled on the floor crying my eyes out.
I don’t know how to explain it, but his presence made me calmer…it actually made me forget, if only
for a moment, that I am caged to a sociopath. I’m not sure what he plans on doing, but he’s definitely not
on Percy’s side. And the enemy of your enemy is your friend, right?
As I unpack my clothes, my mind keeps going back to what just went down with Kieran. God, that
man, even in clothes, has an incredible body. I could see the outline of his 8 pack abs through his shirt, the
bulging muscles of his arms catching my gaze when his chiseled jaw didn’t take my attention.
I wasn’t expecting to run into somebody so hot and yummy while staying here. In fact, I wasn’t
expecting anything pleasant at all when I arrived here and I’m trying to make the best of a bad situation.
I wonder if he's staying in the house or what his plans are. I know that maybe I shouldn’t be curious,
but hey, I welcome the distraction. And he is…distracting. A low heat in my belly makes it clear just how
much of an effect he has on me.
I can’t help but picture Kieran's blonde hair, and how it falls over his eyes when he cocks his head to
the side and smirks. But he wasn’t just gorgeous. Kieran seems laid-back, and yet he was so firm with
Percy.
More than that, he’s smart—he knew right off there's something not right with my marriage to Percy.
The moment Percy told him I was pregnant, Kieran immediately knew something was up. The way he
looked me over, inspecting me.
I bite my lip, remembering the sight of his tanned, toned arms and the incredible abs beneath that
shirt I wish I could tear off. Now, that’s a real man. He seems like someone who gets his way often, and
isn’t used to women refusing him.
God, I wish I could tell him the truth…but I’m bound to secrecy.
I try to focus on unpacking but my mind is pulled into a different direction...Kieran’s direction. What
do I have to lose by imagining myself with him?
I deserve a little time to unwind.
I go to the bed and crawl under the soft duvet. The stress melts away as I lay my head down.
I think about Kieran, this handsome stranger, going down on me. His head is between my legs and
OMG, is it hot. I imagine him devouring me, picture his mouth sucking on my clit like I’m the most
delicious thing in the world, his lips glistening with my pussy juices.
I glide my fingers over my clit just thinking about his mouth on me, circling and teasing my clit the
way that I wish his tongue could right now. In my mind, he slides two fingers into me to prepare me for
when he fucks me. I’m so wet just imagining it.
Moaning into a pillow now, I try to contain my exploding desire.
Then, I go from imagining his mouth on my pussy to imagining so much more.
He climbs on top of me and spreads my legs wide before unleashing his ten-inch cock. It’s thick and
hard, already starting to drip with his own arousal, and I want to lick it off.
My mouth goes dry as I moan at the thought of him entering me, filling me up and stretching me to
accommodate his massive cock. Oh my God, I want the bulge I saw in his pants to be free, the real deal
right in front of me so that I can wrap my hands and my lips around him.
I want him to take me against the wall, on the balcony, in the bathtub, on the grass, in the bed, on the
floor...everywhere. Suddenly, I imagine this expansive estate as a checklist of places I want Kieran to ram
his cock in me.
I know I might be moaning loudly, but I don't care because I’m lost in the idea of Kieran, the
handsome blonde who stood up to Percy. My lust takes over and I’m an animal giving in to my desires.
If Kieran would come in here and take me now, then I would be far less opposed to staying here. I
start to imagine being married to him instead of his monster brother.
Because I’m alone and anything is safe in my mind, I imagine Kieran and I at the altar, and then on
our honeymoon in some fantasy beach location.
I am lost in a chasm of euphoria, about to lose my mind and come so fucking hard.
And then a deep voice interrupts my daydream.
"I can help you with that, you know?"
What the fuck?
I open my eyes, and instead of seeing Kieran, there’s a chiseled, dark-haired man who’s equally as
hot. I didn’t know it was possible to be as attractive as Kieran, and now here’s another man that’s so good
looking I could almost ride the wave of my orgasm to completion just looking at him.
His brown eyes are serious and full of mystery.
I should feel embarrassed about being caught in the act, but for some reason I don't. At first, I think
I’m just too far gone with lust.
Then I realize that maybe I am starstruck.
I recognize this guy.
He’s a champion polo player.
I pause and don't know what to say.
What a sight I must be, legs splayed open, moaning and rubbing my slippery pussy.
With no shortage of inspired sass, I say to myself that this is what he gets for walking into my room
uninvited.
 Carter


I'm standing at the door of one of the guest rooms, witnessing the most fucking awesome sight I think
I've ever seen.
She really should've locked the door before going at it, but I guess I shouldn’t be complaining about
that.
I came in to grab some of my stuff but I never expected to walk in and see such a fuck-hot woman
like this one sprawled out on the bed, giving herself God knows how many orgasms.
My cock is hard seeing this beauty touch herself, and I almost resist the urge to say something. But
I've already made my introduction.
She's scrambling to cover herself up and she’s staring at me now.
"Hey…I know you," she says from underneath the blanket, a crimson color staining her cheeks.
"Do you follow polo?" I have to admit, I like that she knows who I am.
"Only you. You're all over the magazines and papers. You're Carter, right? Carter Williams. I would
never have dreamed that you're Percy's brother. I mean, geez, you look nothing alike."
"He's my stepbrother. The relation is by name only."
"Oh, well,” she mutters, averting my gaze. “I don't know what to say. You really caught me off
guard."
I grin. "I can't say I'm disappointed."
She's looking at me intently, and she can't seem to tear her eyes away from my statuesque 6'5 frame.
Of course I shouldn’t be surprised she’d recognize me. I’m all over the media right now with my recent
win in Britain.
But what I’m not prepared for is how much I want to fuck this girl.
I wonder who she’s with…is she Kieran's?
"Who are you?" I ask because I realize that I have no idea who this beauty is.
"Oh,” she murmurs. “I’m, uh, Percy's wife."
What the fuck?
"Percy, as in my stepbrother Percy?"
"That's the one."
"But he's..."
"Gay?"
"Yeah."
"Well, he's bisexual or something, I suppose," she mumbles.
"Uh, okay," I say dubiously.
Sure, people can be bisexual. But not Percy. I don't believe it for a second. Percy's only ever been
into men and he's never been shy about it.
Something else is going on here.
"Yeah, I'm pregnant," she says flatly.
"Pregnant?" Okay, now I know this is a joke. Percy must be fucking with me somehow. "What’s
really going on? You don't look even one day pregnant.”
My eyes are scanning her super slim torso that’s peeking out at me from under the duvet. Fuck, I want
to run my tongue along the contours of her body and take in all of her flavors.
"It's kind of a long story." Her cheeks flush.
"I take it you will tell it to me in full one day."
"Maybe."
Her eyes look somber and I try to fathom what her story might be. How did someone as beautiful and
sexy as she is end up in this guest bedroom? And married to Percy, of all the people in the world.
But fuck, I can’t take my eyes off her.
She’s lying there like a feast that I’d devour in a second. I want to rip the rest of those clothes off her
perfect body and welcome her to the family in an up close and personal way.
I don’t give a fuck about Percy—now that I’ve found her, I want to make her mine. I want to turn her
into my sexy little plaything for as long as I can.
I have a burning need to show her just what she's been missing in a man. Because Percy sure as fuck
isn’t doing anything in that department—obviously since she’s in here taking matters into her own hands.
"So who are you anyway? I know you’re Carter, but—"
"Oh shit, I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” I was so distracted that I failed to introduce myself.
“So yeah, the name’s Carter, as you already know. I’m John's stepson from his first marriage. Percy and I
grew up together."
"Oh,” she says, running the tip of her tongue between her lips. “So you’re Kieran’s brother?”
I narrow my eyes. How the fuck does she know Kieran? Has that fucker already moved in on her? I
wouldn’t put it past him.
But before I can reply, she continues with, “Well, I’m Stacy. Nice to meet you."
She seems displeased at the mention of Percy and I’m determined to find out why. I’m equally
determined to know why her face flushed when she said Keiran’s name. But that’s a matter for another
time.
"I have to admit…I’m surprised Percy has a wife. I find it strange that he married you. I know him—
I really know him."
"Yeah well, he's different." She shrugs like she has nothing else to say on the matter. How well does
she even know Percy? Maybe I should enlighten her.
"What do you know about your husband, Stacy?” I ask her, and she looks away from me and out the
window. Yeah, she knows exactly who Percy is.
 When we were growing up, Percy was always scheming and deceiving people. He's a master
manipulator.
People always liked me better. Percy had very few friends growing up, and I think he still holds that
against me.
"I know Percy,” she whispers faintly, and then her gaze returns to me. “Why are you here? To say
goodbye?"
"Yeah, I just came here because I needed to pick up a few things."
"It must be hard…losing him." She gives me a small sympathetic smile.
My jaw ticks but I can’t deny it’s nice to have someone who seems to actually give a fuck about how
I feel.
"It is hard. He was my stepdad, but was better to me than my real dad ever was. My mom went
through so many men and marriages. But John raised me and he always made sure that I was okay. He was
a good man."
"Yeah, he worked with my dad a lot. I always heard good things."
Okay then, that's how she knows us. At least there's something of a connection there. But I’m still
trying to piece together how this girl fits in. Why the fuck is she married to Percy? I just can’t wrap my
head around it.
"I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a father." A flash of something crosses her face but it’s gone the
next second.
"Yeah," I tell her, suddenly feeling myself caught in a moment of pure vulnerability. "It was totally
unexpected. He really held everything and everyone together. I don't know how things will operate
without him here."
"I'm sorry you're having to go through that. I’m here, you know, if you ever want to..." She spreads
her legs under the duvet, her eyes never leaving mine. "Talk."
Holy fuck. Hell yeah. I’m so down to…talk.
I give her a smirk. “How considerate of you. I may just have to take you up on the offer. I haven’t had
a good talk in a long time.”
The decision to accept her invitation is an easy one. I’ll show her everything she’s been missing in a
man. Because Percy sure as fuck isn’t taking care of her.
My cock is rock-hard, straining against the fabric of my pants. I see her trying to size up my length
and girth. She won’t be disappointed. Not with all ten inches, thick as a fucking coke can stuffed inside
her.
I can't wait to give this girl what she's obviously aching for—a real man between her legs. Percy
pales compared to me, and he doesn't even fuck women, so I have no idea what he's doing with her.
I’m going to find out.
But it can wait. Because for now, I have to claim Stacy.
 Stacy


Wrapping up the sheet around me, I cover my naked body and go up to my feet. Without even
knowing why I’m doing it, I close the distance between me and him and my heart picks up the pace.
“Hello there,” he whispers, looking straight into my eyes. With a grin—a devilish and sexy one at
that—he leans in, and my eyelids droop by instinct. Our lips touch and everything becomes real; I’m
really kissing Percy’s stepbrother.
And he tastes exactly like I imagined he would. His lips are a perfect fit on mine, and as he holds me
by the hips, I realize that a kiss is just the beginning.
We’re going to do so much more than just kissing. And that sounds about perfect.
“Stacy,” he whispers, and a shiver goes up my spine as I hear my name rolling over his tongue, “I
want you…and I’ll have you.”
I move one hand over his belt and flatten it against his crotch. A grin dawns on his face as he feels
the pressure of my hand. I can feel the shape under his pants hardening against my fingers.
I curl my fingers around the shape of his cock, my heart tightening in my chest as I realize that not
only is he big, he’s also thick…and when I say thick, I really mean it. It’s almost like he’s hiding a can of
Coke inside his pants.
He pushes me back, one hand still on my waist and the other going to the nape of my neck, and
tangles his long fingers in my hair. He only stops when my back is against the wall, his body pressed
against mine. I keep my fingers tightly curled around his hard cock and—Jesus Almighty—it seems even
bigger than before now.
I continue, tightening my fingers around his cock and grinning wildly as he grabs my hair, forcing my
head back. He lays his mouth on my neck, kissing my skin in a straight line until his lips are on mine again.
Pushing his way inside my mouth with his tongue, his kiss grows fiercer and savage, the hand he has on
my waist going down over the sheet.
I grow wetter with each inch his fingers cover, and I feel that sweet anxiety taking over me. The kind
of anxiety that makes me so crazy, I could just throw him on top of the mattress and ride him until I
collapse.
Moving his hand under the sheets, he slides it up until his fingers are brushing against my inner
thighs. My pussy is so wet that I feel my juices dripping down my legs. With a sudden movement, he
flattens the palm of his hand right between my thighs, his long fingers pressing against my wetness as I
gasp.
I breathe out, throwing my head back against the wall and closing my eyes. He starts rubbing my
pussy with slow teasing strokes, and my hips start moving by instinct, grinding against his open hand.
Trailing off, he takes his hand off of my pussy and starts kissing my neck. His lips go down to my
chest and, grabbing at the sheet, he pulls it down my body. Pushing the fabric down, he only stops when
the sheet is bunched up at my feet, my naked body aching for him.
I reach for his hair and, grabbing it, I pull him into me. He doesn’t fight back, allowing his mouth to
fly straight to between my tits. He kisses me between my breasts, sliding both his hands up my back.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he grins, his eyes focused on my tits.
He looks at me in silence, his eyes taking in the sight of my naked chest, and I do the thinking for him.
I grab both his hands and, slowly, place them over my naked tits. I close my eyes as I feel the palm of his
hands pressing on my hard nipples, and another moan finds its way out of me when he squeezes my
breasts.
Easing up the pressure, he uses his thumb and index finger to pinch my right nipple, and then he does
the same to the left one. I look into his eyes as he does it, biting down on my lower lip as I feel that sweet
pain travelling from my tits to brain.
Without allowing me enough time for a response, he dives into me once more. His lips go over the
curve of my right breast, closing in on my hard nipple. Using his tongue, he starts circling it, driving me
completely mad.
I grab his hair fiercely, forcing him to move his mouth straight to my nipple but, this time, he resists
me.
Finally, though, he flicks his tongue against my hard, rosy tip and I let out one quivering moan.
Moving fast now, he wraps his lips around my nipple and starts sucking harder, battering against my
aching tip with the tip of his tongue. With his free hands, he squeezes my right breast, my skin burning up
as I succumb to the touch of his fingers.
He then pulls back from my kiss and looking at me in the eyes, he continues, slowly going down on
his knees.
Without even giving me enough time to prepare myself for what’s about to happen, he just dives into
me and presses his open mouth against my drenched pussy.
I arch my back and, without even knowing what the hell I’m doing, my instinct takes over as I lift one
leg up and place it over his shoulder.
With my pussy now perfectly angled, Carter starts sucking me. My skin prickles as I feel his lips on
me, and I can barely believe how good it feels.
A shiver goes up my spine as he brushes his index finger over my drenched folds, and when he starts
moving it up and down I can’t help but moan.
My voice explodes in the silence of my bedroom like a song of pleasure. I thrust my hips against
him, anxious to feel his fingers—and his mouth on me. I bite on my lower lip, my eyes locked on his as I
run my fingers through his hair, urging him to carry on.
He chuckles, and then presses his open mouth against my pussy. I moan even louder than before as he
sucks on my inner lips, using his tongue to lap at them.
 Using the leg I have over his shoulder to lock him in place, I start thrusting, rubbing my pussy against
his mouth as he devours me.
With my eyelids closed shut, I let my consciousness be dragged down into a world of pure pleasure,
each flick his tongue makes against me feels like lightning crashing down on me.
He keeps going until I can no longer tell if I’m moaning or screaming, my voice just another constant
in a sea of ecstasy.
“Oh, yes, that feels so good,” I tell him, still grabbing at his hair.
The moment these words leave my mouth, he takes one hand to my pussy and presses his thumb over
my clit, immediately moving it viciously in a circular motion.
I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to take this without coming because—oh, forget about
that. I’m going to come now.
Exhaling sharply, I let a wave of mind-bending ecstasy crash against both my mind and body, every
single muscle in me twitching and trembling as my nerve endings become overloaded.
I start hissing through my gritted teeth, yanking on Carter’s hair and forcing him against my pussy so
harshly that I don’t even know if he can breathe. Only when pleasure starts to subside do I let go of him,
slowly placing my leg back on the floor.
He pulls back from me and I force my eyelids open. I can’t help but grin as, looking down at him, I
notice my fluids dripping down his chin. I reach for him and, with two fingers under his jaw, I make him
get up until he’s on my level.
I place both my hands on his chest and push him back, driving him across the bedroom. Grabbing his
arm, I force him to sit down on the edge of the bed and then climb on his lap, straddling him.
With both hands on his shoulders, I pull his jacket down his arms and then start unbuttoning his shirt,
patiently taking care of each button.
Anticipation builds inside of me as my knuckles brush against his ripped muscles on the way down
and, as I strip his perfect body bare, I feel a violent urge dancing in my mind.
I untuck the rest of his shirt and slip it off his arms in a hurry; then I move my hands from his waist to
his chest, feeling every hard curve of his chiseled chest. I didn’t think I could become wetter, but I guess I
was wrong about that.
Yanking on his hair, I lean in to kiss him again, my tits pressed tight against his pectorals.
He takes his hands to my ass, squeezing my cheeks as I start swaying my hips, moving my pussy up
and down the length of his shaft. Even though he still has his pants on, I can already tell that I’m in for a
treat.
Grinding against him as hard as I can, I then force myself to roll to the side. My hands dart straight to
his waist, and I take care of his belt as fast as I can, unbuckling it and pulling it free from its loops with a
sudden movement.
Breathing hard, I unbutton his pants and then, as slowly as I can, start unzipping his fly. His cock
strains against his boxer briefs as if it has a life of its own, pushing against the back of my hand with a
fierceness that makes me bite on my lower lip in excitement.
Hooking my fingers on his pants, I push them down his legs as he kicks off his shoes, and then I take
a couple of seconds to marvel at the perfect man sitting by my side. Locking eyes with him, I curl my
fingers around the hem of his boxer briefs and then I tug them down as violently as I can.
His cock springs free at once.
Wasting no time, he guides my hand toward his cock and I submit to his desire, grabbing his thick
shaft. Giving up on my teasing, I start stroking him as fast as I can, moving my hand up and down the
whole length of his shaft.
Using my free hand, I caress his balls, rolling them over my stretched fingers; my eyes still locked on
his, I climb down from his body and kneel on the floor.
Leaning into him, I tilt my head sideways and I reach for the side of his shaft with the tip of my
tongue.
Resting it against his warm skin, I run my tongue down to his balls and, there, I open my mouth and
start sucking on one of them. I take it inside my mouth and, after lapping at it with my tongue, I move to the
other one and do exactly the same.
Sliding my tongue back up his shaft, I only stop at the tip of his cock. I run my tongue in quick wide
circles around it before finally lowering myself and wrapping my lips around his pulsing flesh.
Doing it as slowly as I can, I roll my lips down his shaft until I can feel his cock pressed against the
back of my throat. Closing my eyes, I make one final effort and take the remaining inches inside of my
mouth.
I doubt I can fit his entire cock in my mouth, but I had to try and I’m so glad I did. I’m so turned on
from tasting him and taking him in my mouth that my whole body is humming with need.
Sliding back over his shaft, I go down again, starting a pendulum motion. Grabbing his cock, I bob
my head back and forth as fast as I can, my lips making a wet sound as they go over his length. I keep on
stroking him as I do it, my hand and my mouth in sync with one another.
Wanting to go the extra mile, I finally peel my fingers off his cock and place both my hands on his ass
cheeks, digging my fingers into his flesh and pulling him into me.
Holding onto his body, I start moving my mouth at a frenetic pace, going so fast that the muscles in
my neck start cramping up.
Suddenly Carter stops me, placing both his hands on my head and pulling his cock out. There’s a grin
on his lip and grabbing me by the hand, he pulls me up to my feet. He presses me against the wall again,
crushing his mouth against mine.
“It’s time we up the ante,” he tells me then, locking his eyes on mine, and I become wetter than I’ve
ever been.
 Carter


Holy fuck.
Those are the only two words that can describe what’s happening right fucking now.
Stacy is eye-candy, yes, but she’s so much more. I half-expected her to be a timid one, but hell…
she’s everything but timid.
If the way that she was sucking my cock didn’t indicate that, well, the way that she’s kissing me now
seals that deal.
I’ve pushed her petite body against the wall and kissed her…but fuck, I think I’m the one being
kissed. She’s wild and fierce, and she’s keeping me so fucking hard that soon enough there won’t be
enough blood going up to my head.
“Glad you’re here,” she breathes out, and then places her hands on my chest and pushes me back. I
feel the back of my knees against the mattress and I sit back down on it; without taking her eyes off mine
she climbs on top of me and grabs my cock.
“You said you wanted to up the ante, didn’t you?” She teases me, tightening her fingers around my
cock.
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” she replies, that damned smile on her lips.
She points my cock up and then lowers herself until her pussy lips are gently brushing against my
cock. Instead of simply lowering herself all the way, she holds that position and starts rubbing the tip of
my cock up and down her pussy. I shudder in anticipation, my muscles so fucking tense it feels as if
someone poured concrete into my veins.
“You want it?” she whispers, still teasing me. “You’ll have to ask for it,” she continues, and I can’t
even process what she’s saying. I’ve never asked for anything in my life—what I want, I just take.
“Ask?” I shoot back with a grin. Let her read it in my eyes: no begging, never.
“You’ll ask,” she continues, and then corrects herself. “You’ll beg.”
Fuck, she’s really driving me crazy. If she keeps it up like this, I don’t know if I can resist it. Well,
she’s wrong—I won’t beg. But, fuck, she just keeps brushing my cock against her pussy.
I don’t know how she can take it.
“No,” I groan, resisting this idea that I’m going to beg to fuck the woman I’m seducing…but then she
lowers herself just one inch, taking my cock between her folds. I try and thrust, but she moves her hips up
matching my movement.
“Fuck, Stacy…just take my cock.”
“Are you begging now?” she chuckles, and I can’t help but smile at her. Fuck, she got me there.
“No,” I say too quickly. “I never beg. I just need my cock in you now. You know what you’re doing.”
 I chuckle, my voice blending with hers. Then, moving fast, I hook my fingers on her hips and just
push her down while I thrust, impaling her on my cock.
I grab her by the ass, holding her down, and I thrust so fucking hard I might just split her in half.
“Fuck, Carter,” she whimpers into my ear, leaning into me and nibbling at my earlobe. Rocking her
hips back and forth, she starts punishing my cock with such a violent intensity that I begin seeing stars
dancing behind my eyes. I really don’t know what got into her, but…shit, this is good.
She isn’t fucking like a regular woman; she’s fucking me like a goddess.
She really is something special.
“Babe,” I whisper back at her, needing to tell her what’s inside my mind, “you really are something.”
I tell her that without thinking, the words escaping my lips so fast I have no control over them. I’ve
just seen her for the first time a few moments ago, and I’m already telling her shit like this? What’s up
with that?
“I know,” she says simply, teasing me, and then sits up. Squeezing her own tits, she dances over my
cock in a way only she knows how to do. I can’t think, I can’t breathe; this is so fucking good that my
brain is overloading with pleasure
She keeps riding me like a madwoman, and while I drift in a sea of scattered thoughts, she takes me
to the edge of coming. I have to focus so hard to stop myself that I’m afraid a vein might burst inside my
head. But I manage to do it, and that’s exactly the moment Stacy climaxes.
She thrusts her hips forward, throws her head back, and screams at the top of her lungs. Her voice
bounces off the walls, and it wraps itself around my brain in such a way that I almost forget where and
who I am. Thank fuck the house is big enough for no one to hear us.
I can’t just lie back now, though.
Whether she likes it or not, I have to show her what I can do.
Without taking my cock out of her pussy, I sit down and grab her hair. She’s still coming when I start
pistoning into her, moving my hips so fast that her scream dies down and becomes a quivering moan.
I’m fucking her so hard that I can already feel beads of sweat dripping down my forehead. But I can
go even harder.
I lay her down and position myself so that I’m on top of her; reacting as fast as I moved, she crosses
her legs behind my back and pulls me into her, urging me to go as fast as I can. She doesn’t even need to
say it; I pound it her as hard as I can, my skin now covered with sweat.
“Harder, harder…” she pants, struggling to get the words out. I’m already going as hard as I can but,
somehow, her words unleash some hidden reserve of energy. I move furiously, ravaging her in such a way
that this should go down as the best fuck in history.
“HARDER!” she screams, and I push myself past all physical limitations. I don’t even feel my body
moving; I’m just one with the fucking universe right now, both our souls dancing as our bodies burn like a
supernova.
 Sex has never been this good.
She comes once more, clawing at my back like a leopard. She’s doing it hard enough to draw blood,
but I just don’t care; right now I’m taking a deep breath and trying to get a hold of myself.
My whole body is begging me for some release, but I just can’t allow it. No, not yet. I have to enjoy
this until the very end, whatever it takes.
I slide my cock out of her and, grabbing her by the waist, I make her roll to her stomach. I place her
legs between mine and then, feeling her wetness with the tip of my fingers, I go for her pussy again.
Lying down on top of her, I push my cock into her depths in one flowing thrust. I feel her inner walls
clenching my shaft, and that just makes me reignite that furious pace.
She’s grabbing at the sheets so hard her knuckles have turned white, and her moans have become
hoarse and raspy; I’m figuring that she pushed her voice to its limit. And what a voice—it doesn’t matter
if she uses it for talking, whispering, or screaming…it all makes my cock as hard as a fucking steel rod.
I keep on fucking her with all I have, and I do it until she stops moaning; she just falls silent and
takes one deep breath, every single muscle in her body tensing up like a nocked arrow.
Her body starts spasming as if she’s having a seizure, and I feel my own cum pushing its way up my
shaft. Once more, I grit my teeth and force it back down.
I slide my cock out and I just can’t fight it anymore. I curl my fingers around my throbbing shaft, and
I’m ready to start stroking myself into oblivion when I hear her whisper. I focus, trying to hear what she’s
saying, and then a grin takes over my lips as I finally manage to make out her words.
“More…” she’s saying, “I need more.”
Very well then.
One last effort.
Holding her by the hips, I grab my cock with one hand, ready to push it against her pussy, but then a
thought crosses my mind.
I let go of my cock and lean into her.
She sighs as she realizes what I’m about to do…and then I just do it.
I dive into her once more, my hands on her ass cheeks, and I slide my tongue up the length of her
pussy, and then I do the same in a downward line. On the way back up, I make one final stop on her clit;
instead of going, I just push my tongue against her clit, making it dance there.
She squirms as I begin licking her, and I do it as if I’m a man possessed. I savor her like I never did
before, and I do it until I just can’t control myself anymore; I pull back, grab my cock, and go for it.
Pushing my cock against her sweet little pussy, I slide my shaft inside it. She’s so fucking tight that
my insides clench, a wildfire raging inside my head.
By the time my whole cock is inside of her, I can barely think straight. I just start rocking my hips
unconsciously, my eyes closed as I succumb to a whirlwind of electric ecstasy.
Time passes by without leaving a trace, and I don’t even know how much time has gone by since I
started fucking her tight pussy.
We’re both covered in sweat, and I know that my time is coming. I’m on the verge of drowning in
pleasure, and this time there’s no way I’m going to be able to stop it. This time I’ll be consumed by
ecstasy and, fuck it, it’s about time.
The moment I feel her pussy gripping my cock like a fucking vice, there’s no stopping me. My cock
starts pulsing violently and I spray her insides with a vengeance. She comes at the same time, somehow
managing to scream as if her throat wasn’t exhausted from the effort. She really doesn’t know any
limitations.
She’s still screaming out when I take my cock out of her pussy. I grab it as a fountain of cum gushes
onto her back. I can’t take my eyes off of her body as my cum covers every single inch of her skin,
dripping down her sides and making the sheets sticky.
Without even thinking about what I’m doing, I stroke myself, long strands of my white juices shooting
from my cock and onto her. She rolls on her back to face me and, the moment she does it, I hit her straight
in the face with my cum. She just grins and opens her mouth wide, and I take aim, filling her mouth up to
the brim.
My heart is racing like a motherfucker as I see my own cum dripping down her chin, her mouth so
full that she simply can’t hold it all inside her mouth. I keep on exploding like a fucking geyser until
there’s not a single drop of cum inside of me, and only then do I let go of my cock.
“Fuck,” I breathe out, still unblinking; I just can’t take my eyes off of her. She’s completely covered
in white, her skin glistening as my juices reflect the dim lights in the room. I lean into her, still breathing
hard, and just lay my lips against her cheek.
“I don’t know what you’ve done to me…” I say, looking into her smart eyes as I roll to my back and
stare at the ceiling. “But that was fucking impressive.”
She looks so fucking sweet right now, still glowing from the pleasure racing through her veins. From
the moment our eyes met the first time, I knew I was in for something special…but this is better than what
I’ve imagined.
Stacy is different. She’s better than all the other women I’ve had.
Fuck, Percy doesn’t deserve her.
 Nolan


I grind my teeth as I drive up to the family mansion, dreading what I might find.
Percy will be here for the reading of our father’s will. He'll be scheming to get his hands on all the
money, no fucking doubt about it.
He's already blackmailed me for the gambling losses I suffered in Vegas.
Some brother, right?
Well, at least we aren’t blood-related. I’m his stepbrother from our father's second marriage. I tried
to be friends with Percy when we were younger but he was always a malicious little shit.
Frankly, I don't have time or patience to deal with him.
I'm a real estate investor and I've got fucking work to do. I just want to swing by the house and pay
my respects to our father, and then I'm gone. But that motherfucker Percy has me delivering some files so
he can blackmail somebody else...the family lawyer this time.
I know the son-of-a-bitch is doing everything he can to get sole ownership of our father's business
empire. It's pathetic, really—his only motivation in life is money.
I peel down the driveway like I have more important shit to do, which is true. I want to get in and get
out. I park and climb out of my car, walking toward the mansion where we all grew up…a mansion that
now feels empty without our father.
When I heard the news, it left me gutted…and now I see things falling apart around us.
Percy's waiting for me as I step in the door.
It obviously has no effect of any kind on Percy’s emotional level, though.
"There you are, Nolan.” He gives me a smarmy grin, and I want nothing more than to sucker punch
fucking face. “Finally. I've been waiting for hours."
"Well, those papers weren't easy to get hold of. You'd think you would know with as many people as
you’re blackmailing."
Percy glances around the foyer. "Shut up, Nolan. You know nothing about my life. You better keep
quiet, or I’ll fucking ruin you, too."
He's a real asshole, my brother, and he always acts like this. I wish I could get out from under his
thumb, but things are…complicated. I walk through the house and step into the meticulously landscaped
backyard.
The infinity pool cascades to the edge of the property and the view of mountains and ocean is just
incredible. I just can't believe John isn’t here, and that I will never see him again.
He was the only father I’ve ever known.
Percy interrupts my silent remembrance.
"You know, you still aren’t free. I have more assignments for you."
 "Shut the fuck up, Percy." I'm just about sick of his shit. Besides, with my 6'5 frame of pure muscle, I
could wipe him out in half a second. "I don't know how long you expect me to put up with this, but it
better end soon."
He cowers from me—as he should. He’s always been scared of me, and now’s no exception.
All he has over me is money, and as soon as I find out how to make that problem go away, I will get
back at Percy for this.
Mark my words.
That's when I see her step out onto the balcony. She’s a slender, blonde goddess with piercing blue
eyes. Her hair whips around her head as the wind comes off of the ocean waves in the distance.
"Who’s that?" I ask Percy, mesmerized.
"Who?" He turns and sees her standing there. From our vantage point we can see her but she can't
see us. "Oh, her. My wife, Stacy."
I laugh. And then I see that he’s serious.
"You have a fucking wife, Percy? That’s ridiculous. I see what you're up to. She is part of your plan,
right? To win Father's fortune?"
It's all making sense, but I can't tear my eyes away from the beautiful girl on the balcony. My cock is
getting hard just watching her and knowing she can't see me. She stares off into the distance as though
she's looking for an answer out there, in the wild mountains beyond the property.
What’s she doing here? I want to claim her for myself but…something about the way she’s dressed
reveals that she's been freshly fucked. Maybe it's the way her hair is all tangled. Maybe it's the little
barely-there slip she's wearing that slides off her shoulder. Or maybe it's the glow.
She has the glow of a woman who’s just been satisfyingly and thoroughly fucked. It sure as shit
wasn't Percy that put that glow on her face, so then who?
"Forget about her," Percy says. "She’s none of your concern."
Yeah fucking right. How could I ever forget her? She’s burned into my memory, and I'm already
dying to strip away what's left of her outfit and claim her right there on the balcony.
In fact, I'm on my way up to do just that when Percy stops me. He grabs my arm but I yank it away.
"What the fuck?"
"I'm not done with you yet,” he hisses. “Just because you gave me these papers, don’t think you’re
free. I have another assignment for you, Nolan, and I need it done right. You can’t fuck this one up."
This motherfucker is starting to get on my nerves. I have a half a mind to punch him into oblivion and
then toss Stacy over my shoulder and make my way up to her room, but I think better of it. Percy truly does
have a way to ruin me, and I need to tread lightly for the time being.
I have no fucking clue what he’s got on her to make her go along with whatever diabolical plan he’s
concocted this time. I will find out though. Just not yet. Right now I’m still under this asshole’s thumb until
I’m able to shake him.
Tearing my gaze from Stacy, I turn back to Percy with a sigh.
"Fine. Tell me what the fuck you want this time."
 Stacy


The library in this place is incredible.
I'm starting to get used to this mansion lifestyle. There's an ocean and mountain view from outside
my window, a gourmet kitchen, theater, and let me just come right out and say it: there are gorgeous men to
fuck.
I don't even have to leave this castle. They come to me.
I thought Kieran was the hottest thing I've ever seen, but then I met Carter. He fucked me so well that
I slept like a baby and forgot all about wanting to fix my Percy problem.
Anyway, if I'm going to be confined to this palace I might as well catch up on my reading, and this
place is stocked with all the classics, from Dickens to Thoreau, and new reads, too.
I'm reading Wuthering Heights at the moment imagining that my Heathcliff will come and save me. I
know Carter and Kieran are sleeping here too, somewhere. I wish one of them would find me in here and
make me come hard as I’m bent over the leather couch I'm currently nestled up in.
Carter is fucking hot but I still haven't experienced Kieran. With his blonde hair, blue eyes, and laid-
back vibe, I think we could make some real magic happen.
Mind wanders to some truly naughty places as I imagine fucking both of them at once. Carter's
licking my clit while Kieran claims me from behind. There are cocks everywhere, for every hole.
I’ve never imagined something like this before, but I’ve never been confronted with the insanely hot
sex appeal that radiates from both of them. The idea of being double stuffed is so crazy hot that I pull my
dress up and my panties down, tossing them to the side. Then I begin to touch myself right here in the
library.
I don't care who walks in.
Maybe it'll be my fake husband Percy, and he'll know that even though he's trying to ruin my life I can
be happy anywhere, even here in this luxurious prison.
I slide my fingers inside my pussy and the juices are already flowing. Gushing, really. I'm moaning
loudly, and I spread out my legs, biting on my bottom lip as I feel electric shocks race up my spine.
Who doesn't get aroused by Heathcliff and his brooding personality? I’m already on an erotic edge
and this just pushes me over it.
I hear people coming and quickly close my legs, pretending to have been absorbed in the book all
along.
Percy's evil face peeks around the doorframe. Ugh, it was him. I should have just kept on going.
"There you are," he says. "I've been looking for you everywhere. I have someone I'd like you to
meet."
Just then the most gorgeous, penetrating green eyes stare at me from behind Percy, raking over my
body in a way that makes me feel like he’s imagining all kinds of filthy things he could do to me. Oh my
God, he’s so fucking hot. What’s up with this house? It's like a place where the sexiest men on the planet
converge. Percy excluded.
"Let me guess," I say. "It's your brother."
"I'm Nolan." He steps forward and I take in his built body. He’s all muscles, height, and chiseled
good looks. His sandy colored hair is slightly messy on top and his tan skin makes him look like he’s just
been hit by sunlight.
I long to graze my lips over every contour and line of his body. Like, I seriously want to lick this guy.
Yum.
I stand and approach them while he continues to check me out from top to bottom, not even bothering
to hide it. My gaze drops to his hips, and holy fucking shit. The guy is huge. What is with the men in this
family?
"I'm Stacy," I manage to say, but it comes out in more of a gasp because the sudden gush of wetness
between my legs has nowhere to go but down. I didn’t have time to grab my panties when Percy showed
up.
His eyes peruse everything from my unkempt hair to my blue eyes, to the thin dress I'm wearing and
how it barely covers my ass. Fuck, he’s going to know I don’t have panties on soon at this rate because my
juices are going to run right down my thighs.
Percy fake coughs.
I snap back to what’s going on, pushing thoughts of my missing panties away and add quickly, "I’m
Percy's wife and—surprise—I'm pregnant."
Honestly, none of them could be buying this phony story. I'm not even sure why Percy's aiming to
keep up this charade. His brothers see right through it, as evidenced by the fantastic fuck I had with Carter
just yesterday.
"Stacy."
The way Nolan says my name makes me shiver with desire. I feel my nipples harden against my bra.
They're aching to be free and for him to suck on them.
I immediately add him to my little fantasy I was just getting off to. I could get fucked by all three
brothers here in this mansion. Um, yes please!
Then I would surely forget about Percy. He's a distant memory already as I just stand here taking in
the awesomeness that is Nolan as he towers above me.
"I have to go," Percy says, though I barely hear him. "I have some important matters to attend to, but
Nolan here is going to watch you. Don't even think about leaving, Stacy, because he’s not gonna budge."
"Fine, fine, whatever,” I tell him dismissively. “Just go then."
He turns to Nolan. “And you—stop looking at my pregnant wife like that, you sick fuck.”
Finally, he turns and leaves, and then it's just me and my newest fantasy, Nolan.
 "Hi," I stammer, my ears roaring as the blood rushes from my brain straight down to my pulsing
pussy. "So, you're really related to Percy, huh?"
God, that’s the best I’ve got?
"Not by blood," he says, his tone all deep and rumbly. I feel it all the way in my clit. "That part
should be obvious."
"Oh, trust me, it is." I run the tip of my tongue between my lips, imagining what it might feel like to
kiss him. "So, you're my prison guard now?"
His eyes close in on me. "If that's what you'd like to call it." There’s no pretense here. He knows
there’s nothing between Percy and me, that our marriage is a total sham.
Being held captive by this incredibly muscular, attractive man is so not a bad thing. Not at all. I
almost want to sink to my knees and start sucking his cock right now in appreciation of his pure maleness.
"And you grew up here?" I’m so ready to dispense with the small talk.
"I did, for a while. I'm John's stepson by his second marriage, so I spent some of my childhood here.
It's not the same without him."
"I'm really sorry to hear about his death," I say earnestly. Death is always a messy subject and I don’t
know what to say, but I know that I want to say something.
"It's okay. Really."
"So, Percy has you holding me captive then. Why are you doing it? Why don't you just let me go?"
He looks at me intently, and I feel nervous butterflies rise in the pit of my stomach. "Do you want to
go?"
I don't answer, and thankfully we're interrupted by Kieran.
He slips into the library and my desire is off the charts. Oh fuck. My fantasy come to life. These two
handsome guys size each other up, obviously posturing as they see who might win my attention.
God, if this is what it’s like in my new prison, sign me up for life with no parole.
 Kieran


I walk into the library of the main house expecting to find it empty, but instead I’m confronted by
Stacy...and Nolan.
Nolan isn’t my favorite guy in the world right now, and that’s because he's been working with Percy
to secure our father's money. I'm not sure if they have some kind of plan to split the funds or what the deal
is. Usually, Nolan is very outspoken about his dislike for Percy but now he's doing his dirty work.
So finding him here alone with Stacy makes me pretty fucking pissed.
I want to find out why he’s here but right now my eyes are set on Stacy. She looks totally fuckable,
standing in the light of the sun that's streaming through the high windows. Her hair looks like spun gold
and I want to curl my fingers in to it while I fuck her into oblivion.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about her.
She's Percy's pawn, I know it, and yet I want to control her, too. Sure, it’s so wrong and I would
never want to hurt her, but I can’t help it—I want to make her my personal sex slave. He's got her locked
up here, obviously under Nolan's watch, and it's my mission to make life for her as comfortable as
possible.
Namely with my cock 10 inches deep into her pussy, which I imagine is so tight and wet, just waiting
for me to enter it.
"Kieran," she says, breathing out my name in a way that sends a rush of blood straight to my cock.
"Oh, hey, Stacy. It’s a pleasure to see you again. But I need to ask – what you are doing with this
asshole?"
Nolan steps up to defend himself. We’re about the same height and build, which is fucking
unfortunate since it probably means I won’t be able to take him down by myself.
Percy is easy to threaten.
Nolan, not so much.
"You better watch your words,” Nolan tells me, his voice turning into a growl. “You have no idea
what's going on here. If you only knew, you’d thank me."
"Yeah right, Nolan. You’re the guy that's tearing this family apart. You represent everything which
our father stood against. I’m embarrassed to call you my brother."
"That's really mature, Kieran. I'm warning you…don’t talk about shit you know nothing about."
I don't give a fuck what he's rattling on about. All I know for sure is that he's working with Percy.
And that for some reason, Percy has a vested interest in this girl; he’s got something over on this angel that
I want to fuck and he’s keeping her captive. But I want her for myself.
"Stacy," I say to her directly so she gets my point. "You don't have to stay here with him."
I hate to put her in the middle of it, but she’s there already and I’ll happily jerk her from the middle
and to my side in the most expedient way that I can.
Even as her blue eyes are pleading with me to stop this fight, I can’t give her what she wants. Percy
is my enemy, and if Nolan's working with him, then Nolan’s my enemy as well.
I will crush anyone who stands in my way. It’s not just about not letting Percy take off with the
inheritance because he’s a greedy fuck.
Now, it is about me running off with Stacy because I’ve become the greedy fuck.
I don’t know what the hell is happening to me but I want her more than I’ve ever wanted any woman.
She’s all I can goddamn think about. I’m obsessed.
"Nolan, I never thought it would come to this. I trusted you and loved you like a real brother, and
then you went and betrayed us all," I say, the seething rage and single-minded focus sounding loud and
clear in my voice.
"I’m warning you, Kieran,” Nolan says with his own rage nearing the surface. I can tell he’s trying to
hold it back. “Back the fuck off."
"You ruined our family. Because of you, Carter and I can't get to Percy. And that’s all on you. You’re
a disgrace. And you have no one to blame for this but yourself. Why the fuck are you doing this?"
I’m disgusted just looking at him. It's like I don't even know the guy, even though we spent so many
years growing up together and being buddies. I’m just at a loss as to why he's defending Percy.
He knows as well as I do that Percy’s soul is black. The fucker is evil in every sense of the word.
He might as well stand around twirling a little mustache while he laughs diabolically.
Percy has nothing good to offer the world, and more than that, he has this poor girl under his control.
I can't stand to see her like this. It’s obvious she’s miserable being controlled by him. She must feel like
Percy's slave and I fucking hate that.
I want her to be no one's slave but my own. As much as I hate myself for thinking that, because,
seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me, I know I just really want to fucking save her.
It is my personal mission to see that whoever hurts her pays a hefty price, and that includes Nolan.
"You know, Nolan, what is most disappointing is the feeling of betrayal coming off of you. I trusted
you, man. Carter and I never thought you would do this…but you have. It’s just so damn disappointing.
You don't have one scrap of integrity in your body."
He stands and gets in my face. We’re two alpha males staring each other down and shit is going to
get ugly fast. If need be, I’ll destroy him and this whole fucking library.
"I will shred you to pieces,” I say through gritted teeth. “Back the fuck up."
"Fuck off with this shit, Kieran, you’re in over your head and I’m not going to be threatened by you."
And then it happens. The perfect angel, Stacy, who has somehow become entrenched in the middle of
all this drama, slips her body between the both of us. Such courage, to stand between two battling
brothers...and her fucking body between us as the sacrificial lamb does something to me on a primal level.
My cock is rock- hard in an instant, even though I’m still fucking enraged.
 "Stop it, please,” Stacy whispers. “I don't want to see this. Percy is the enemy, and neither of you
understands to what extent."
We back off at her request though we’re both still heated.
I see the tears pool in her eyes, and I want to take away the pain of this innocent stranger who has to
witness this family being torn apart.
I wonder what she herself is going through, and what’s being held over her head that’s forcing her to
stay. We don’t understand the full extent of it. That means Stacy probably has it worse than any of us and
here we are, acting like a couple of testosterone-driven animals.
"Come on, baby," I say and take her hand. "Let me show you the gardens. We could use the air."
I start to pull her out of the library, closing her hand tight in mine like I’m actually saving her right
now.
That’s when I see a scrap of lace lying just under a chair. I reach down and grab it. I stuff it in my
pocket before anyone can see what I’ve got, then flash a smile at Stacy and lead her out the door. If this is
what I fucking think it is, there’s nothing between me and Stacy’s pussy than a ridiculously short scrap of
fabric masquerading as a dress.
Nolan calls after us, "I’ll be down to check on you soon. She's a flight risk, you know." But he
doesn’t try to stop me, which is for his own good.
Fuck him if he tries to stop me because nothing is getting between me and Stacy…or her pussy.
Literally, it seems. I fucking crave her on every level.
I don’t give a shit how impossible the odds seem now, I know that I have to get her out of here.
For now, I just want her to feel like she’s safe, comfortable, and not in the middle of a goddamn war.
I want inside her because I know my cock is the best way to help her escape her current hellish reality.
I want her thoughts to devolve into moans.
 Stacy


The bright sun is shining overhead. The afternoon light feels so good on my skin.
The estate is enormous, and there's more than ample outdoor space for us to wander. I've taken
Kieran's proffered arm and I'm just happy to get out of that library.
I thought things were going to go down between him and Nolan and there would be no way for me,
weighing only 115 pounds, to stop either of these men from demolishing each other. I am nothing
compared to their weight and yet I love to imagine myself underneath, one, both, or all of the three hot
brothers I've come to know.
They are all gorgeous and equally charming…and they all leave my pussy equally wet.
He's leading me to the beautifully manicured gardens, set after an English style. There are fountains,
topiary, mazes, and secret gates leading to what look like enchanted places. I've only seen them from my
window, the tower where I'm caged. I had no idea being within the actual gardens would feel so
refreshing.
"It's nice out here."
"I figured you could use some air. God knows I needed it."
"Kieran," I venture. "Why on earth are you so mad at Nolan? He's your brother. It's a really sad sight
to see."
He sighs like a heavy weight is upon his shoulders.
"It's not easy. Nolan and I used to be inseparable. We did everything together - hunting, fishing,
hiking. We tackled the bar scene and have traveled the world. Then one day it's like he just turned his
back on all of that, on me. It was honestly devastating."
I look at his sun-kissed face and wonder how a man this gorgeous could have a care in the world.
Even without his father's fortune, I know he has enough money to set him up for life.
He just oozes that rich sex appeal. I'm sure he gets any woman he wants, and that he lives the high
life with virtually everyone at his beck and call.
His life’s so different from mine.
I'm coming from a more modest family, and I'm doing everything in the world to protect my dad. I
can't imagine fighting with my brothers like this. It would break my heart, and I guess my heart breaks a
little for what's happening to this family that I have unwittingly become a part of…thought I couldn’t feel
that for Percy, not with the cruel way he treats me.
But Carter, Kieran, and Nolan? They’ve all affected me in some way that I can’t shake the sadness I
feel at their rivalry.
"Well, there has to be a reason. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would just turn his back
like that. Something must've happened."
 He looks at me with tenderness in his eyes.
"Might be. But don't you go worrying about this. Nolan separated from us, and he's been helping
Percy. Everything he's doing prevents Carter and I from taking Percy down and from carrying out our
father's wishes. Nolan is the only thing stopping us and that’s unforgivable."
"I guess I see your point. You care about your family, your dad."
He pulls me onto a little stone bench that's set within an unusually wild part of the garden. There are
flowers everywhere and the scent of roses hangs in the air. It's so fragrant that I'd like to capture it in a
bottle.
"Family is everything. If you don't have some sense of family, then you are lost. You have no
purpose, no sense of direction." He kisses my hand and his eyes are sincere.
"The way I see it, John, my dad, built this empire for us all to stand on and it's just crumbling around
us, even as we speak. It's terrible what they're doing to his memory."
I feel like for the first time ever I'm seeing who Kieran really is. He's not just a man of muscle with
perfect abs—he's a genuine person with a real moral compass.
He seems like someone who will always take the high road and I admire that. Hearing him talk about
family in that way, well…it makes me more attracted to him, if you can imagine that’s possible.
Now I don't just want him to fuck me. I want him to make love to me, and there's a huge difference
there. One is just lust, while the other means that you expose your entire soul to the other person and
there’s no holding back.
Kieran seems trustworthy, like he would keep my soul safe and never hurt me. That makes a warm
feeling start to come over my body and I want nothing more than for him to take me as his own, to claim
me right here in the garden.
I find myself rubbing his back and his arms.
I just want to get close to him.
"They've got you trapped. Aren’t you losing your mind?" he asks.
"I am...trapped," I say nothing more about it because I can't run the risk of Percy finding out that I
told Kieran anything about his plan. "But at least I'm trapped with you."
He looks at me with those blue eyes that pierce my soul. They match the deeper shades of the ocean
out my window.
"Stacy, I know you are technically Percy's wife, but I fucking want you so much."
I place my hand on his hardened cock and begin to rub it back and forth. The feeling gets me so wet,
and I feel my eyes becoming wild, like that of a tigress.
"It's a good thing I'm feeling particularly slutty right now,” I whisper these words into his ear. “Why
don't you come and get it?"
I run my tongue over my teeth, my pussy dripping with desire, and Kieran doesn't disappoint—he
pulls me down into a bed of soft grass and wildflowers, and presses his lips on mine.
 Stacy


“Come here,” I whisper, rolling to the side and grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt. I feel the grass
under my back and the sun on my skin. Kieran’s closeness is the final touch to the perfect scenery.
His eyes become hungry as he glances at the upper curve of my breasts, and I just close my eyes as
he leans into me and lays a kiss between them. Moving his lips up, he follows the contour of my chin and
then presses his mouth against mine, parting my lips with his tongue.
Surrendering to his kiss, I let my hands fall to his waist and I put them to work, unbuckling his belt.
I then open the top button on his pants and unzip his fly, my skin prickling as his hard cock strains
against his boxer briefs. Turning my wrist, I flatten the palm of my hand against his cock and start rubbing
on it, that sweet anticipation building inside of me.
He makes me throw my head back and I gasp, tightening my fingers around his shaft so harshly I
wouldn’t have been surprised if he complained.
Except we’re both so horny right now that there’s no way either of us is complaining; we’re both
focused on acting out every raw drop of lust within our bodies instead.
I let go of his cock and slide my hand down his boxer briefs. I bite on my lower lip as I savor the
warmth of his shaft against my fingertips. I place my hand over his thick cock again, pushing both pants
and boxer briefs down with my free hand.
He takes the chance to kick off his shoes, and then does the same with his pants and boxers. Wanting
him completely naked, I push his open shirt down his arms, and then take a moment to marvel at how
perfect his body looks.
Not only is Kieran handsome, but every single muscle in his body seems to have been carved by
God’s careful chisel.
Seriously, how lucky am I?
After Carter, how did I manage to fall in the arms of another perfect man?
I move my fingertips over his skin, tracing the lines separating his ripped muscles and going down to
his inner thighs, but always keep a safe distance between my hands and his cock.
He’s looking at me with an untamable hunger in his eyes. I can tell that he’s fighting against the urge
to just grab my hands and place them on his cock. Not that I’d mind if he did that, but I’m actually enjoying
the creases of anticipation growing on his face as I tease him hard.
Sitting up, I place my hands on his knees and look him in the eyes. I feel my breasts hanging against
my bra, and I know that I’m offering him a nice little view of my cleavage.
Judging by the flicker of hunger in his eyes, I’d say he’s enjoying it. He breathes out, and I notice his
cock pulsing hard.
On my knees in front of him, I force him to spread his legs wide. He groans, not expecting the sudden
movement, but that delicious grin never leaves his lips.
“I want it,” I purr, moving my hands up his legs. I take them all the way to his inner thighs but, once
more, I stop right before I reach his crotch.
Instead, I let my hands move back down, and I keep that coming and going motion of my fingers for a
long while. As I massage his legs, always threatening to go for his cock but never actually doing it, I
notice his pants tenting up so much that I almost start expecting for the fabric to tear. It doesn’t, of course,
and so I decide to finally go for it.
When I finally take my fingers there, I do it softly, only using my fingertips. I hold my breath as I feel
the contour of his cock, thick and long, and my heart flutters happily as I realize exactly just how lucky I
am.
I take a deep breath as I curl my fingers around his cock and start tightening my grip, his cock
hardening more and more as I do it. Never taking my eyes from his, I start flicking my wrist, stroking him
at a steady pace. My hand goes up and down in hypnotic strokes.
“I need it,” I continue, and I start leaning in as I say it. I only break eye contact when my lips are
hovering over the head of his cock.
I part my lips and stop just before my mouth is on him. I use my tongue to touch the tip of his cock,
and I close my eyes as I feel his salty warmness against me. I run my tongue in circles and then, unable to
resist him a second longer, I go further down and wrap my lips around his tip.
The moment his tip is in my mouth, I grab his shaft with one hand and start stroking him. Bobbing my
head back and forth, I suck and stroke at a perfect rhythm, my body in complete sync as I please him. The
pace keeps growing furiously, and it doesn’t take long for the muscles in my neck to start cramping.
Just like Carter, he tastes amazing.
Slowly, I start rolling my lips down his shaft, only stopping when I feel his tip pressed against the
back of my throat. He’s so big that my lips aren’t even touching the skin on the root of his cock. If he
thrusts right now I seriously think he’d kill me.
I close my eyes then, savoring him. I start to bob my head up and down and, at the same time, I place
one hand between his legs and cup his balls. Much like his cock, they’re also big; add to that my small
hands, and the contrast makes my heart tighten up.
“Fuck, that’s good,” Kieran groans, placing both his hands on top of my head and guiding my
movements.
I let him take the lead, using the pressure of his fingers on my scalp like my map. Picking up the
pace, I go so fast that the muscles in my neck start cramping up again; lucky for me, he tangles his fingers
in my hair and makes me stop moving.
Then he starts to thrust, pistoning his cock into my mouth and – no other way to put it—fucking it
hard.
I hold still for a long moment, surrendering to the way he’s taking charge. He keeps on going until I
feel his cock pulsing hard against my tongue. He suddenly he exhales, pushing my head back and making
his cock pop out of my mouth with a wet sound.
“That was…” He breathes out, suddenly sitting up. “It was fucking amazing,” he continues, reaching
for me fast, his fingers now on my knees and making the climb up my legs.
He stops on the hemline of my dress, and then it’s as if something wild takes over his lips. He grins
at me, a flicker of lust in his eyes, and his hands go from my legs to my shoulders. He pushes the straps of
my dress down my shoulders in a hurry, and two seconds later I’m lying naked on the grass, wearing
nothing but my bra.
He takes his fingers all the way over my drenched pussy.
In a hurry, I take my hands to behind my back and unclasp my bra, pushing its strap down my arms as
fast as I can.
Now completely naked, I moan as he takes two fingers to my clit, rubbing me there for a few seconds
before hiking down to my drenched folds.
He goes up and down over them, and then starts to part them with his index finger. My back is arched
as anticipation makes my muscles tense up, but he just keeps on teasing me with no end in sight.
Only when I start relaxing does he go for it; flicking his wrist fast. He slides his index finger all the
way inside my pussy, curling it upward and only stopping when it’s pressed tight against my G-spot.
I open my mouth in surprise, a sudden scream welling up to my lips, and he takes the chance to start
rubbing my clit with his free hand.
Pleasure fills me up to the brim, pooling in my muscles and biting at my nerve endings. It demands
all of my brain’s attention, controlling every single cell inside my skull as it keeps on growing and
growing, like a never-ending stairway to heaven.
It grows so much that it bursts, an explosion of sheer ecstasy taking over me. Arching my back again,
I let out one wild scream and, when my vocal chords grow tired, I resort to hissing like a madwoman with
the frenzy of lust overtaking me.
Kieran takes his fingers out of my pussy then, but never lifting them off my body.
This time he takes his mouth down my body and, positioning himself between my open legs, he starts
kissing my inner thighs, using his tongue like a torture device.
Grabbing at his hair, I try to force him down, but he fights back against my hold.
He keeps on teasing me, brushing both lips and tongue on my inner thighs while I try to thrust with
my hips. Countering me, he presses his forearm over my waist, pinning me down to the ground, and just
keeps on circling my wetness without going for it.
His eyes become narrower as his grin widens and, just like that, he’s on me. He wraps his lips
around my clit and starts to suck, using his tongue to run soft circles around it.
Hooking his thumbs under my knees, he forces my legs up and then takes his open mouth to my pussy
lips, pressing it against my wetness and jabbing at my insides with his tongue.
 This time he doesn’t stop me while I try to thrust, and so I just press my pussy against his face as
hard as I can, rubbing my wetness against his mouth.
I want to moan and scream at the same time and sounds of pure pleasure tear from my lips.
Sucking and licking, he presses one thumb over my clit and starts rubbing on it while he devours my
pussy. Violent pleasure starts rising inside of me again like a ticking bomb, each tick one step closer to
ecstasy.
There’s a storm in my brain and, for a moment, I can’t even see or hear anything. My brain shuts
down everything in order to process all the sweet pleasure reaching it. I’m grinding my teeth so hard I can
feel the pressure building around the bones in my jaw.
With my brain seemingly busy, my body goes out of control. Still grabbing him by the hair, I start
swaying my hips in a frenzy, crushing my pussy against his face in deep desperation as I come. By the time
pleasure finally starts receding, there are already beads of sweat pooling on my forehead.
“Oh, fuck, I whisper, more to myself than to him, as I collapse limp on the grass, sprawling both my
legs and arms. I look up at the blue sky, and for a moment, I forget all about Percy and the situation I’m in.
Right now, all I can think about is the sweet pleasure coursing through my veins.
He smiles at me, going up to his knees. Turning my head, I look at him, a delirious smile taking over
my lips as I see his lips and chin glistening from my fluids.
“We’re just getting started, babe,” he tells me, and I can’t help but smile back at him.
 Kieran


I need to fuck her.
It’s almost silly said like that, but that’s the truth.
I don’t want to fuck her.
I need to.
And that’s a new thing for me. More often than not, women are the ones wanting my cock more than
they want the air to breath.
For the first time in my life, I know exactly how it feels to have that much desire inside me.
Gritting my teeth, I roll Stacy so that she’s laying down on her stomach on the grass. I lay on top of
her, one hand moving under her body and grabbing one breast while I position my cock against her ass.
My fingers gently playing with her hard rosy nipple, I place my lips against her ear.
“Tell me you want it,” I whisper, pressing my cock between her ass cheeks. She immediately starts
to thrust back, grinding and stroking me with her cheeks. “Say it.”
“I want you…I want it,” she murmurs, turning her head to the side. “I want it so bad, Kieran.”
“Are you sure?” I tease her, grabbing my shaft with one hand and pressing it down, moving it
between her thighs so that my tip is brushing against her wet folds.
I have to take a deep breath so that I don’t thrust right away.
It takes all my fucking willpower just to keep talking.
“I’m not hearing you beg.”
“Please…” she mutters, struggling to get the words out. “Please…I want you to fuck me. I need you
to.”
I oblige, pleasure washing over me.
But I don’t go all the way in.
I only feed one inch into her pussy, her folds hugging the tip of my cock as she tries to thrust her hips
back.
“Please…I need you inside of me. Fuck me…as hard you can,” she purrs, each of her words feeling
like someone is driving a fucking knife through my heart. I can’t resist this anymore. No fucking way.
Teasing time is over.
I grit my teeth and thrust hard, my shaft burying itself deep inside of her. I go all the way in, closing
my eyes as I feel the warm embrace of her pussy. My hands are on her ass, grabbing it as I start to rock my
hips against her.
Her lips are parted seductively, moans flowing out in time with my thrusts. The sound of her desire
caresses my eardrums like a spell, and I feel my rational mind shutting down.
My mind goes blank as my thought process turns into incoherent whispers of decadent lust.
 I don’t even bother with building up the fucking rhythm; I go hard right from the start, my thighs
slapping her ass as my cock fucking ravages her.
My shaft goes in and out of her incessantly, beads of sweat starting to pool on my forehead.
I just fucking ignore them and keep moving, fucking her as if I had never been with a woman like her.
And it’s true; I’ve fucked my way through countless, nameless women… But I’ve never found someone
like her.
Never.
“Oh, God…” she moans, turning her head to the side and clawing with her delicate fingers at the
grass. “Please, don’t…Don’t stop!” she cries, breathing loudly through her gritted teeth from the sheer
exertion of taking my cock.
I do exactly what she’s asking me, and I keep fucking her until her pussy tightens around my cock like
a fucking vice. Her muscles start to twitch, and I feel the delicate, and yet violent, spasms of her pussy
around my shaft.
I remain in place as she burns in pleasure, only sliding my cock out when I notice her breathing
returning to normal.
Rolling to the side, I lie on my back and turn to her, placing my hands on her waist and pulling her
into me. Moving with fast, cat-like movements, she climbs on top of me, straddling me while she grabs my
cock with both of her hands.
I have to hold my breath and close my eyes so that I don’t come right here and now. Somehow, I
manage to resist.
“You’re perfect,” she whispers, her eyes locked on mine. Her lips are slightly parted, an expression
of anxiety on her face. I feel the fucking gears inside my head starting to turn as I try to decode her words.
“Me? You’re the perfect thing, babe,” I reply, having no idea about what’s she fucking talking about.
Women tell me I’m perfect all the time, but coming from her mouth…it just sounds like she doesn’t even
realize how truly perfect she is.
“I mean it.”
“You should see yourself through my own eyes then,” I tell her with a grin.
“I just can’t control myself…” She raises her hips slightly, angling my cock so that its tip is rubbing
against her pussy lips. “Something about being with you…I just lose all sense of reason and turn into...”
She continues to rub my tip against her pussy, moving it up and down with slow teasing movements. I
can feel desire fucking pulsing through me, my cock straining against the grip she has on it.
“I turned into a woman totally possessed by lust. I need this…and I need it bad.”
As she speaks, she lowers herself over my cock, allowing one inch to slide inside of her.
She’s teasing me but, in a sense, this isn’t teasing at all. It’s almost as if she’s teasing herself.
Let’s put a stop to that.
I thrust upward, trying to ram my cock deep inside of her, but she resists.
 “No,” she says, a commanding tone in her voice. She’s fucking torturing me and she knows it. “I
want to savor it…I want to enjoy this.”
Well, that’s a pretty thing to say, but it’s not like it’s going to make me stop now.
I hook my fingers on her hips and pull her down as hard as I can, thrusting upward at the same time.
My cock pushes past her folds, and straining against her inner walls, goes all the way in.
Stacy throws her head back, her hair cascading down her shoulders as she sighs heavily.
I reach for her breasts, squeezing them both as we start to rock our bodies against one another. She
places her hands on top of mine, making me grab her harder. Swaying her hips wildly, she then takes the
lead and rides me as if this is the last time she’s going to be with a man.
My cock nestled deep inside of her pussy, I close my eyes as I feel her body moving, my hands going
down from her breasts to her ass. I slap her cheeks—once, twice—and then I squeeze them both as hard
as I can, moving my hips upward and trying to match her movements.
It only takes a few seconds for the motion of our bodies to match, almost as if we were one. She
leans into me then, locks of her hair brushing against my chest, and presses her lips against mine. We kiss
as if our mouths were drawn to fit in one another, our tongues dancing in circles as I start to thrust harder.
“I’ll take care of you,” I whisper into her ear, suddenly realizing that it’s not just about the way she
looks or how she feels on my cock. It’s much more than that. Fuck, I’m wrapped around Stacy as much as
her pussy is wrapped around me.
She starts riding me harder, moaning louder as if she didn’t care any longer if my fucking stepbrother
hears us.
“I promise, I’ll take care of you” I say, this time out loud. I’m saying it to her as much as I’m saying
it to myself. I don’t know why the fuck I’m saying shit like this, but I mean it…and I’ve decided this with
my cock twelve fucking inches deep inside of her.
“I know...I know…And there’s no other place where I’d rather be than…” she whispers, bucking her
hips with such viciousness that I can’t help but groan. “Here...” she continues, getting the words out
despite her hard breathing. “With you!”
With that, she explodes again, her pussy spasming and massaging my shaft as she digs her fingernails
into my chest.
Breathing heavily while her body convulses, she claws at my chest, her fingernails leaving red
marks across my pectorals.
I keep thrusting while she comes, feeling my own body close to the breaking point.
Two hard thrusts and I’m almost ready to join her, my cock spasming harshly against her inner walls.
In a heartbeat, I’m gushing a torrent of cum inside of her, each spasm of my member sending electric
waves of pleasure up my spine, every single muscle in my body tensing up to the point of ripping apart.
It’s almost unbearable.
“Fuck…” I mutter through my gritted teeth, fireworks going off behind my eyelids. I keep coming for
what seems like forever, thick strands of semen dripping onto her pussy from my shaft.
Sighing, she waits for my cock’s spasms to subside, and she finally climbs down from my body. But
instead of simply rolling to the side, she goes on her knees and leans forward, her parted lips meeting my
cock.
She takes it in her mouth and sucks hungrily, moving her lips down my shaft and cleaning it dry. As
she goes back, my cock pops out of her mouth; she grabs it gently, tilts her head sideways and starts
licking the whole length of my shaft before finally scooping up all the cum that pooled at the base.
I lay back as she licks me dry, still trying to catch my fucking breath. I say nothing; fuck, I can’t even
think straight right now with pleasure still coating my mind.
Stacy goes to my side as she finishes, one arm across my chest as she inches closer to me. I turn to
her, and she presses her mouth against mine, the salty flavor of my semen hitting me immediately.
We kiss as if there was nothing else in the whole fucking universe but us, the cum in her mouth
dripping into mine as our tongues wrestle against one another. When she pulls back, there are a few drops
of cum on my chin, making their way down my jawline; smiling, she scoops them up with the tip of her
tongue.
“I’m not the only one in need of some cleaning up,” I whisper, my heart still beating like a
motherfucker.
My hands on her waist, I turn her around and pull her into me. She doesn’t take long to realize what I
intend to do, and climbs on top of me, easing herself down on my mouth.
Swaying her hips, she rubs her drenched pussy against my lips, cum dripping down from her folds
and into my open mouth. I open it as wide as I can, feeling my warm semen sliding from inside of her and
down to my tongue.
Fuck, what’s this? I’m losing my mind around Stacy, that much is for sure.
Rolling to the side and laying on the grass again, she presses her body against mine. We say nothing
for a long while, simply staring at the blue sky over our heads as we hear our own ragged breathing,
exhaustion lacing our bodies.
Then, hesitantly, I feel her reaching for my hand. She holds it, gently squeezing my fingers, and I
squeeze back.
We remain in silence, the warm sunlight tumbling over our bodies as if it was trying to caress our
naked skin. I’ve never been what I’d call a romantic, but this…This right here, this is what turns rugged
men into soft ones.
“You’re special…” I finally manage to say, the words coming out of my mouth as if I wanted to say
them all along. “I don’t know what it is about you, Stacy, but I never wanted someone as much as I do
you.”
She responds by squeezing my hand harder and I smile absently, knowing that for once I’m saying the
right fucking thing to the right woman.
 “I hope so…I really do,” she says, whatever there is between us suddenly becoming very fucking
real.
 Nolan


My conversation with Kieran keeps on running through my head over and over again.
I know to some extent that he's right, but he doesn't know that I got so deep into gambling that I
couldn't find my way out again. I went a little crazy with the partying lifestyle and for a while I was
practically living in Vegas, just racking up more and more debt.
Hey, you can't win all the time—but I thought I was fucking invincible. Imagine how bad it must have
been for me to go crawling to Percy for help. I made the mistake of telling him my secrets one drunken
night.
He's the kind of guy you never want to lose your wits around with. You have to keep up your guard
whenever you’re with Percy—the guy’s constantly plotting and scheming for a way to pull you down.
It doesn't matter who you are: if he can manipulate you in any way to his advantage then he’ll fucking
do it. He’s a douchebag, yes, but he’s a smart douchebag. He knows how to dig up dirt on people like no
one I've ever seen.
I confided to him about my money problems and it was the biggest fucking mistake of my life. He
acted all cool and caring and he took care of the debts, but now he’s using it as my potential financial ruin.
Holding it over my head. Fucking blackmailing me.
Fuck. I hate being in my father's house like this, at odds with my brother and being Percy’s goddamn
lapdog. He's always been the enemy and now, unfortunately, I find myself on his side. Not by choice, nor
my alignment with his values, but out of fucking obligation.
Because of him, I’ve lost my brothers. But how could I ever reveal to them how sorely mismanaged
my life is?
It's impossible. I have more pride than that.
To make things more complicated, the other part of my mind is fixated on Stacy.
I really hate that she probably sees me as Percy's helper. I personally will never condone what he's
doing to her. I don't know what the details of the situation are between them, but one thing is certain: I will
find a way to protect Stacy, even if it means my own disgrace.
That girl is fucking perfect.
I've seen a lot of women, especially during my time in Vegas. None compares to her. I wasn’t
expecting such a gorgeous woman to enter my life, but fucking hell, I want to make myself thoroughly
acquainted with her in every possible way.
I’ve made up my mind—I will fuck her brains out before I'm finished here. She hasn't had a true man
until she's had me. Of that I’m certain. One taste of my cock and she'll be eating out of the palm of my
hand, begging for more.
I’m upstairs in the main loft considering all of this when I start to hear the screaming.
 Stacy.
I have one thought—I have to get to her. I fly down the stairs and follow the noise. It's coming from
the dining room at the end of the hall. I go down the grand corridor, anxious to find her, to make sure she's
okay.
Finally, I get there. Swinging open the large, carved, wooden doors, I see them both sitting at
opposite ends of the mahogany table. The thing must extend twenty feet. She’s at one end, crying, and
Percy's at the other berating her to death.
"You fucking whore,” he rails. “I would never have brought you here if I knew what a slut you would
be with my brothers. I swear to God, if you tell them one single goddamn thing about me, I will destroy
you. Got it?"
She's crying and she looks like a total mess. It makes me crazy that Percy’s brought her to this.
"What the fuck, Percy? She doesn't deserve this.” I tell him, rage making my blood boil. “Aren't you
supposed to be fucking married to her?"
I go to her side and try to comfort her. I still don’t really know her, but she’s so fucking beautiful. All
I want to do is to sweep her up in my arms and take her away from this asshole.
She deserves so much better.
I wipe her tears away. "Are you okay?"
She draws in a shaky breath. "No, Nolan. I’m not okay. None of this is okay."
"Don't fucking talk to her, Nolan. She’s my wife," Percy tells me, menace in his eyes, but I just shoot
him a death glare.
"Fuck, Percy. Don't be such an asshole. We all know it's a hoax anyway. Let’s be real. There's no
fucking way she’s pregnant."
"Fuck you, Nolan. I dare you to defy me. You better watch out or you’ll be ruined…and I think we
both know what that means."
Fucking bastard. He knows he has me right where he wants me, but I'm over it. All I care about now
is comforting Stacy, the poor girl. I want to take her out of here.
Instead, I say, "Percy, just fucking leave. You have what you want. You've tormented her enough.
Now get the fuck out."
"You better watch it, Nolan, or I promise you that our little deal will be over. All it takes is one
phone call from me to end your life."
"Shut the fuck up!" I'm in his face now and he cowers, but continues to hurl insults at Stacy.
"She's a whore! She's already fucked every man walking around this place. How could you ever
want a trash like that? You know, I’m almost sorry I married her."
I shove him out of the room and lock the doors. I hear him telling me again that I better be careful.
He's probably right—I do need to watch my step because I know he won't hesitate to pull my funding. I'll
be in deeper debt with guys in Vegas, and they’re the last people you want to owe anything to.
 But Stacy is all I want to think about now. Not my debt. Not the blackmail. Certainly not fucking
Percy.
I want to help her and taste her and fuck her. I'll help her forget this nightmare. Hell, she’ll help me
forget it too.
 Stacy


I stare at the wood-paneled walls and ceiling through my teary eyes. I can't stop crying. I've never
had someone yell at me like that and be so vicious.
The things Percy said shouldn’t have affected me—normally I'm strong, but he just knows how to use
his tongue as a weapon. I’m doubting myself because of what he said.
But more than that, I feel upset because he made me feel like my family isn’t safe.
Nolan is holding me, caressing my hair. At least there’s that.
He's basically the one who saved me from Percy's wrath. God, what the fuck is wrong with that
man? I don't know why Percy cares who I sleep with, as long as I go along with his stupid plan. It’s not
like anyone here believes I’m actually pregnant.
But he's got me under his thumb, I have no choice in the matter. You’d think the least he could do is
be nice to me and pretend like he cares about me as his wife. But what am I talking about? I know Percy,
and he’d never do that. It’s almost as if he doesn’t care if people see through our fake relationship.
He doesn’t care about what happens to me. We’ll be exposed, and if that happens then who knows
what will happen to the people I love? Is that what he wants? An excuse to follow through on his threats?
God, I hate Percy for this. This whole thing is ridiculous, a sham. I'm not sure how much longer
Percy can hold onto the charade because things seem to be disintegrating into chaos inside this house.
Nolan holds my face in his large hands.
"Why was Percy so angry? Why was he saying all those things?"
I look at Nolan and take in his chiseled features. He’s really gorgeous but beyond that, I admire him
because he came to my rescue. I can see a really good guy in there. I feel like maybe I can trust him.
I still have to keep my arrangement with Percy a secret, but I feel like I need to disclose to Nolan
what's happened here, and it's not going to be easy.
I bite my lip and take a deep breath before diving in.
"The thing is, I slept with both your brothers,” I manage to say, my heart tightening into a fist the
moment the words roll out from between my lips.
“First Carter, and then Kieran. That's why Percy was slut-shaming me." I finish, and then I almost
regret it—what if Nolan shames me as well? What if he thinks just as badly of me as Percy?
I don’t know if I can handle that. Because even though he’s the brother I know the least, I still can’t
stop this need I feel to get to know him. And to know what it feels like to have him inside of me.
Nolan peers at me as if he's trying to see straight through to my soul. I wonder what he's thinking and
if I’ve upset him. I’m afraid of his reaction because, despite my relationship with his two brothers, I want
Nolan. I don’t care if that makes me selfish. It’s what I want.
He's solemn now, and I know he's thinking about what to say.
 "So, you slept with them?"
"I did."
"Okay,” he breathes out, a small smile on his lips. “That's good to know."
I hug his neck but resist the urge to plant soft kisses along it. I see his lips and want to kiss them, to
taste him.
Still, I resist.
I don’t know what he thinks and where we stand. Does he even want to fuck me? Does he think of me
in the same way I think of him? Ever since I laid eyes on him, I've imagined how it would be to have him
inside of me.
Any woman who sees Nolan probably thinks that way. Maybe I'm just part of the mix.
Though my body is lusting for Nolan, my feelings are still hurt by Percy. His words cut into me like a
knife. No one ever wants to be slut-shamed, least of all me.
I’m confident in myself and in my sexuality. I have nothing to hide. And I won’t be berated for being
who I am.
It's not my fault that Percy's brothers turned out to be insanely hot.
And besides, I don't know why Percy even cares. I told him that I’m going to do whatever I want—
he’s gay anyway, so why does he even care? But that still really pissed him off for some reason.
The memory of what he said to me makes me shudder in Nolan's arms. Percy threatened my family
and told me that I’d better stay in line or he would destroy everything. If I don't follow through my
commitment to him we could lose our family home, the business, everything.
Normally I would tell a guy like Percy off, but with so much at stake, I have to keep my anger at bay.
I have to stuff it all down and hide how I really feel.
Having Nolan to lean on is definitely helping, though. The feel of his strong arms around me makes
me feel like maybe it will all be okay. At least I can find solace here with him in this moment.
"Nolan, thank you for what you did."
The tears start to stream down my face again as I recall the awful moment Percy threatened my dad.
Nolan doesn't fully understand why I'm crying, but he just comes closer, wiping away the tears before they
can fully escape.
"I'm here, Stacy,” he tells me in a soft whisper. “Despite appearances, you can trust me. I want you to
trust me."
Our connection can't be denied.
We both feel it.
I want to be even closer to Nolan. I know I probably shouldn't go there. Fucking three guys who are
brothers, is something I've never done…but how I am supposed to choose when they're equally handsome
and when I feel something real for each of them?
Nolan’s the only one I haven't had, and I want to trust him, just like he’s asking me to. I'm also dying
to unzip his jeans and go down on him right here. I want to see his package and know for myself what the
third brother tastes like.
I want to suck and lick his cock right here in the dining room, just so I can thank him for coming to
the rescue.
How am I supposed to fight against lust like this?
It’s impossible. So I don’t.
 Nolan


Let’s get this party started.
Grabbing her, I lay her down on the mattress and climb on top of her. I start rubbing my thick tip over
her wet pussy, teasing her endlessly, and she buries her fingernails on my back as I do it.
“Fuck me…fuck me now” she tells me, completely unable to enduring any more of my teasing.
I stop teasing her at once and then, with one quick movement of my hips, I push my cock past her
inner lips and deep into her pussy. The moment she feels my thickness straining against her inner walls
she just screams, doing it so loud that I’m sure her throat is starting to hurt from the effort.
Driving my cock deep inside of her, I only stop when all of my inches are buried inside her pussy. I
hold it there for a few seconds, and then I start pulling it back – but only so I can thrust again. I do it over
and over again, pistoning into her.
“Oh, God,” she moans, dragging her fingernails across my shoulder blades so hard, she might draw
blood. I don´t care, this only makes me fuck her even harder.
Placing one hand on her chest, I push her back and force her to lay down on the mattress. She raises
her feet up, placing them on the edge of the bed. With my hands on the back of her knees, I keep her in
place while I ram my cock deep into her.
She asks me to go harder, as the wet sound of my cock sliding in and out of her pussy is driving me
completely mad.
I keep on fucking her until I feel her pussy squeezing my cock hard, and then she just moans against
my ear as she comes.
I actually have to take a deep breath to stop myself from coming.
“More!” she moans through her gritted teeth, and I’m happy to oblige. I lay down on the bed and
make her climb on top of me. Without a moment’s hesitation, she grabs my cock and slides it inside her
pussy.
With my hands cupping her ass, I make her bounce up and down on my cock, my biceps glistening
with sweat as I hold her.
She rocks her hips back and forth too, relishing the feeling of my cock rolling over her folds and
piercing her with the fury of an exploding star. Bucking her hips harder and harder, both her hands running
through my hair and disheveling it.
She lets her legs ease up their hold, and she moves them slightly lower, right over my ass. Still with
my cock in her, she goes down to her knees and claws at my pectorals, pushing me down to the ground.
With a wild passion, she grabs my hands and brings them to her tits. She’s bucking her hips furiously
while never allowing my cock to slide more than an inch out of her pussy.
Stacy craves me the way that I crave her and it is like fucking magic.
 She throws her head back and closes her eyes, savoring the moment while I squeeze hard on her
nipples. Taking a deep breath, she leans into me, long locks of hair falling down her shoulders, and I raise
my head towards her.
She lowers herself even more, allowing me to wrap my lips around one aching nipple of hers.
I groan between my thrusts, reaching for her breasts and squeezing them eagerly. I pinch both of her
hard nipples at the same time, holding them between my thumbs and index fingers. I intensify the pressure
until she simply can’t bear it any longer.
Throwing her head back, she then arches her body and lets ecstasy climb up her spine as she comes.
“Oh, fuck…this was…amazing,” she tells me through moans, propping herself up on her elbows as I
slow down. By the time I stop completely, my hair is plastered to my forehead, and thick beads of sweat
are dripping down my face.
And, my favorite part, there’s a grin of pure delight on her lips. Yes, she loves how we fuck as much
as I do. I’m getting addicted.
But I’m not done yet. I pull my cock out of her pussy and take one step back. Grabbing her by the
hand, I pull her up to her feet and then, moving fast, I grab her by the hips and force her to turn around.
Pushing her toward the small desk on the corner of the bedroom, I lay one forearm across her lower
back and force her to bend over.
With my shaft between her ass cheeks, she starts swaying her hips, rubbing her ass against my cock,
and she only stops when I hold me firmly. Grabbing my thickness, I push it down. She tremble slightly as
she feels the the tip of my cock sliding down her ass crack before finally resting against her aching pussy.
I simply thrust, hammering all oh my length inside of her again. Pressing her forehead against the
table of the desk, she lets out another scream, this one as loud as the one before.
I continue, slamming my hard cock inside her pussy to the hilt. I do it so fiercely that another scream
erupts from her mouth; and then I do it again, each time I thrust, forcing a scream to climb up her throat.
She remains there, bent over, as I fuck her mercilessly, my cock flying in and out of her so fast I can barely
process it.
“I’m gonna…I’m gonna…” she starts to say, her words coming out of her mouth like a quivering
mess. She doesn’t get to finish her sentence, not that she needs to.
We both know what’s coming.
Even though Stacy’s coming her brains out right now, I just keep on thrusting. I keep on doing it for
God knows how long.
Before she knows it, another orgasm explodes inside her, completely overshadowing the one before
it. Her eyes roll in their orbits as she simply collapses on top of the desk as I slow down my rhythm.
She moans slightly as I pull my cock out of her, each inch that slides off my pussy making her tremble
in place. Pressing her hands against the desk, she forces herself up to her feet and then turn around to face
me. Her legs are still weak, though, and she finds herself on the verge of stumbling to the ground.
 Instead of fighting the way her legs seem to be quivering, she lets herself go down on her knees in
front of me.
She looks up at me as she curls her fingers around my shaft. She leans in, parting her lips and taking
the tip of my cock between them. Slowly, she rolls her lips down the length of my shaft until my cock is
pressed tight against the back of her throat.
She starts bobbing her head back and forth as fast as she can, devouring my cock viciously. I rest my
hand on the top of her head and, tangling my fingers on her hair.
I force her to hold still. Replacing the movement of her mouth, I start thrusting, fucking her little
mouth with the same intensity I used on her pussy.
Stacy closes her eyes as I do it, tasting my shaft, and I feel my skin burning as my cock starts to throb
hard against her tongue. My breathing become shallower by the second, and when I feel I’m close I pull
her head back.
“Stop,” I breath out, pulling my cock out of her mouth. Grabbing her, I simply let go and throw her on
top of the mattress. I follow after her, eager to ravage her sweet little pussy.
Massaging her ass cheeks, I slide one hand between her legs and rub my fingers from her clit to her
ass. She pushes back against me, jutting her ass even more, and I respond by grabbing both her breasts
hard, squeezing them against each other.
I play with her nipples by pressing them between my fingers, rubbing and pulling them.
With both of my hands on her hips, I close in on her, the tip of my cock once more right against her
drenched folds.
“I could keep doing this forever,” I whisper and, as I finish the sentence, I simply ram my inches
inside her pussy.
I could do this forever. Her pussy is so perfect.
But I don’t stop here. As I start to thrust, completely demolishing her pussy I spread her ass cheeks
wide and then start caressing her crack.
When one of my fingers goes over her asshole, I then start pressing down on it, sliding my whole
finger inside her. She gasps as I do it, but there’s more to come – using my free hand, I takes it around her
waist and press down on her clit with two fingers.
When I feel her on the verge of another orgasm, I slide my fingers out of her and give her a break.
But not for long.
I grin at her and, grabbing her by the waist, make her go on all fours as I prepare myself for the final
moments. I then start rubbing the tip of my cock up and down her crack, my heart beating fast.
She grits her teeth as I press my thickness against her asshole and she screams again as I start sliding
it in. She starts pushing herself down as she feels the tip of my cock against her ass hole.
As my inches slide inside of her, slowly, she takes deep breaths. The moment I have my whole cock
inside of her ass, she starts moving her hips carefully, allowing my shaft to slide in and out of her ass, and
she does it until her insides have grown accustomed to my size.
Then she ups the ante, jumping up and down over my cock and allowing me to stretch her wide.
Soon enough she starts to go so fast she can’t keep going – I take the lead then, my fingers curling on
her hips and pulling her in as I slam my cock hard, my thighs slapping her ass over and over again.
Adding to the symphony of flesh on flesh, I smack her ass cheeks with the back of my hand, the dry
sound hitting our eardrums like a gunshot. I do it over and over again, my long finger meeting her buttocks
harshly.
“Fuck,” I groan, grabbing her waist. I drive all of my inches into her, as I am pounding her furiously,
her body rocking back and forth with each coming and going motion I make.
“Don’t stop,” she moans.
Holding my breath, I take one hand around her waist and allow two fingers to fall down to her clit.
Pressing down on it as I thrust, my cock working her tight ass in an almost feverish way, I start to feel her
body tensing up. Her ass seems to close in even more around my cock, choking it viciously.
In a matter of seconds, my whole body tenses up, and my cock seems to become as hard as cement.
Then, just a fraction of a second later, I start gushing my whole load into her ass.
We’re coming at the same time, and it feels as if bolts of lightning are exploding all over our naked
bodies, electricity enveloping us both. And, with each spasm of my cock, that electric feeling seems to
intensify more and more. Fuck, and I’m cumming so much that I can already feel my semen dripping out of
her ass and down the length of my shaft, pooling around the base of my cock.
I exhale sharply and pull my cock out.
“That was so fucking good,” she whispers, looking me in the eyes.
Grinning, I grab Stacy’s hand and pull her toward me. I just lean into her and press my mouth against
hers, shoving my tongue inside her mouth.
“Come,” I whisper, pulling back from the kiss.
I smile at her and grabbing her by the hand, I pull her up to her feet and then take her to the private
bathroom inside her room. I turn the water on, and it doesn’t take long for the whole space around us to
become blanketed in warm steam. Stepping under the running water, I pull her after me and hold her close.
This whole situation with Percy sure is a clusterfuck. But it’s all worth it if it means I can have a
woman like this.
 Stacy


I wake up in the early morning to the sound of the birds softly singing in the gardens below. I’d be
totally happy here if it was just me and the brothers – minus Percy, obviously. This mansion is truly
outfitted to stun and surprise, a true Garden of Eden.
It's more than a mansion – it's an estate, and I think about how all the guys must have been so happy
to grow up here. But I don't envy them, really, since all the while they had to deal with that snake, Percy.
At least there's not a black sheep in my family. I love them all. I can't even picture one of my brothers
being so evil. It’d be heartbreaking, and I hate that these three strong men had to contend with Percy all
their lives.
I snuggle down into the blankets and stretch out, reliving my time with Nolan. He was everything I
imagined and then some. I wish he was here now, to fuck me and to turn this good morning into an even
better one. I'm just about to let my hand wander down to touch myself, ready to fantasize and relive last
night, when my latest nightmare walks in.
"You even sleep naked. Do you have no modesty, whore?"
I cover myself quickly and look into Percy's odd, pinched face. I don’t tell him it’s because I lost my
panties somewhere along the way and that I was so exhausted from being so thoroughly fucked that I just
passed out in my bed.
“Get out!" I tell him, pulling the sheets against my naked body.
He doesn't budge, but instead he comes over to me and sits on the bed. He traces his finger up my
arm and across my collarbone in the most horrible way. His touch is vile and disgusting, and it makes me
cringe and back up away from him.
"Don't touch me, you monster."
"Oh, but you’re my wife. I have every right to touch you any way I want.” I shudder at the thought as
he continues to run his hand over my skin.
“And I have to tell you, I'm very disappointed with you. Can you venture to guess why?"
"Hmm, let's see…is it because I fucked another one of your brothers? Because I’m finding what little
joy I can in this prison?"
I don’t even care at this point what he thinks. Fuck Percy and his stupid little villain-wannabe
mustache. I’ve even seen him twirling it around his finger. What a joke.
His eyes lower as if he's repulsed by the idea of me having consensual sex. Creepy as he is, I doubt
he can even picture normal sex at all.
"No, I already know you're a whore, that doesn’t surprise me. I'm upset for a different reason."
I tighten the sheet around my breasts, as both of them threaten to spill out.
"Just tell me, Percy. I'm not in the mood for games. I need coffee."
 I sigh and move to get up and away from his nonsense and drama. But he pulls my arm back so
roughly that it hurts.
"Okay, fine. I came here to let you know that Carter has moved back the court case by one month. Do
have any idea why he would have done that? Have you revealed something that perhaps you shouldn't
have?"
I'm suddenly legitimately afraid. I’m not sure why Carter pushed back the court appointment, but if
Percy thinks I had something to do with it…then that’s a huge fucking problem.
"I didn't say anything. I swear. I wouldn't do that. I know the deal." My voice sounds panicked but I
can’t help it. I am.
"That's really good…but I don't know if I believe you, lying little slut. You're probably just as
practiced at lying as you are at fucking around."
This time his words roll off me and they don't hurt. I cried enough tears because of him yesterday. I'm
all cried out. And I’m angry.
"I didn't say anything to Carter. You can believe me or not, but I’m so over this thing."
He’s still clenching my arm.
"You should care. If you don't, then your dad might be living on the street by next week…and you
with him. If I were you, I’d care very fucking much."
He knows exactly how to get to me, what buttons to push.
It works every time.
If my family’s in jeopardy, then that changes everything, and Percy knows it. It’s my weakness, and
he continues to prey upon it. If only he were threatening me alone, then things would be different.
But to think of my poor parents destitute, without any means of support, all because I couldn't deal
with Percy…well, that pain is too much to bear. At the same time, thinking of this being my life and
having to spend every day with this villainous monster…well that’s also too much to bear. I feel like I’m
screwed no matter what.
I don't know what to do. I feel totally lost and alone.
"Fine, Percy, whatever you say. I didn't say anything. I won't say anything. I swear to you, whatever
Carter has done, it isn’t because he heard anything from me."
"You know you're basically a prostitute, right? The way you're sleeping with them. Is it because you
think you'll get a slice of the pie? Trust me, you're just a whore who they’ll throw away like all the others.
Why would any of my brothers stay with you? Too bad you spread your legs so quickly and showed them
your true colors. Now nobody will ever respect you."
He says these things calmly as he gets up to leave, and then he quietly shuts the door. He knows that
I’m wounded, the bastard. He knew that saying those things would affect me on a deep level, despite any
walls I’ve tried to put up against him.
I curl my legs up to my chest but don't shed a tear. I won’t do it – I won’t waste a single tear on
Percy. Not ever again.
I think about Carter, Kieran, and Nolan, and wonder if what Percy said is true. I care about each
brother so much already, but what if it's unrequited passion? Am I more alone in this than I ever
imagined?
I think about it and get up and pull on a robe. My naked body is finally covered and I feel like putting
on more layers just to shield myself from this awful situation. I sit on the balcony, and while I should be
greeting the day and the shining sun, I’m instead devastated by what’s happening to me.
One thing is becoming clear, though.
I think I need to abandon this situation with Percy. It's too unhealthy. He's being abusive, and I can't
spend my life dealing with that. I have to find a way out of this situation while still saving my family.
I remember what it's like to have sex with each brother and the emotions come back up…no, I’m not
in this alone after all.
You can't fake a connection like that, can you? I need them now more than ever. I hope that what we
have is true, that I’m not just some disposable girl to them.
I wish even one of them was here to comfort me. To let me know that I don’t have to deal with all of
this by myself. Is that too much to hope for?
 Kieran


I drive fast down the streets of the city.
It feels good to get away from the mansion and from all that fucking drama. With Percy there, it's like
a race to see who will get father's money. And that, to me…it's just fucking despicable, and a horrible
thing to focus on after his death.
I want to commemorate his memory for the amazing person that he was, not fight for the scraps of his
fortune. The problem is, if Raine's Petroleum goes to the wrong hands then father's legacy will end
forever.
It's an absolute disaster.
I know Stacy is a key component to all this but I still don't know why. So that’s the reason I'm racing
to get to her side. Percy’s allowed her out of the house for once, and I've taken the opportunity to meet her
for lunch.
The girl deserves to be wine and dined.
I can't wait to get Percy out of the equation so that I can turn the full force of my attention towards
Stacy.
I miss her. I really do. I feel like I haven't seen her in days. Strange for me to miss someone, but it
feels good.
I pull up to Don Juan's Tequila Bar and toss my keys to the valet. I figure this place is perfect to help
take her mind off of everything. And, if anything, the tequila will get her talking.
I want this girl.
My cock is twitching at the thought of getting to fuck her at least one more time. And something tells
me she'll be down with it. I made her come hard before, and hopefully she's looking for that again.
I stride in and scan the room for the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. She sitting at a corner booth,
already brooding over her margarita.
"Margarita time, huh?” I ask her, taking the seat in front of her.
She grins. "Yup, with sugar, not salt, and extra lime."
"I'll have what she's having." I say to the waiter, who disappears just as quickly as he appeared. "Let
me taste it."
I take the glass and glide my tongue over the sugary rim before taking a long sip of the lime-infused
tequila. She stares at me, and her eyes reveal everything I need to know.
"Not nearly as good as you are," I say, and I notice her cheeks flushing.
"Funny," she says, managing a weak smile.
"Why so broody?" I lean onto the table, sitting as close to her as possible so that I have all access
just in case I decide to finger her under this table or smooth my hands over her tight little body as I try to
comfort her. "Something is obviously wrong."
I kiss her cheek, her neck. I take in the fucking awesome view of her tits that peek out from her tiny
tank top.
She’s perfect. So sexy. Even when she’s got something bothering her.
"Everything’s wrong, Kieran. My life’s a total mess, that's what. There's almost too much to tell. I
don't even know where to start."
"Okay, start from the top. What’s the most pressing thing you need to tell me?"
She sizes me up, trying to determine if she can confide in me.
I give her a disarming smile, the one that works every time.
"Come on, I’m an excellent secret keeper."
She laughs a little, but sobers quickly as she takes a breath, preparing to let me in.
"Well, this first secret might make you mad. I hope it doesn't, but it might."
"Okay, what is it?" My margarita arrives just in time. I have no idea what she's about to tell me but it
can't be good with all this anticipation. I knock the whole thing back like it’s a fucking shot.
"Alright, well…I think you should know that I didn’t just sleep with you, but I also slept with
Carter...and with Nolan."
It takes me a minute to process, but when I do, the news blows me away. But for some reason, I’m
less angry than I would expect in this situation.
In fact, it kind of makes me even hornier. I want this girl. She knows what she wants and she’s not
afraid to go after it. And if what she wants is both of my brothers—and me, of course—well, the more the
merrier, I guess.
At least she's not lusting after fucking Percy or some other creep.
"That’s okay. Really. I can handle it. As long as I can have you, I can compartmentalize the rest."
"Really? Because I was sure you'd be so angry." Her expression is hopeful. So hopeful that it makes
me want to do whatever she wants if she’ll just keep looking at me like I’m some kind of hero.
"I'm not. It's okay. I promise." I actually mean it.
"Okay,” she sighs, relief washing over her face. “Well, that was the worst of it. I'm so glad you're not
mad."
"And what’s the rest?"
"I think I need a shot for this," she says, and I'm happy to oblige.
"Okay." I signal the waiter, and he brings over two shots of Patron Silver.
She knocks hers back quickly, and it's as if she's summoning courage. Watching her sweet face makes
my cock hard. I want to get this conversation over with so that I can bring her back to my bed and make it
all better.
"Better?" I ask.
"Yes. Much. It's liquid courage."
 "You can tell me, baby. I promise I won't bite."
"Well, I know you’ve been wondering about me and Percy, and I think it's time for me to confess. I
need to tell someone the truth."
I am all ears on this one. Anything to understand Percy's motives and position will help me.
"Tell me everything. I want to know."
"He's been blackmailing me. He's also been blackmailing my family. He read the will, Kieran. He
got a hold of it before any of you did, and it says that your father's estate will go to whoever can continue
the line."
Now it all makes sense to me.
Fuck!
I feel nothing but rage for my so-called brother.
"Thus, the pregnancy."
"Yeah, he's been making me pretend about the whole thing. He has my father's company in his
clutches, and he could destroy it on a whim."
"Fuck," I whisper under my breath.
Now I see all the heartache she's been through. Obviously, I knew she was never pregnant, but this
shit from Percy is on a whole new level.
I hold her hand and she squeezes mine back. I know she's afraid of what Percy can do to her family,
but at the same time, I’m so fucking glad that she trusts me. She’s not feeling hopeless anymore.
I give her an encouraging smile.
"You're strong, baby. Telling me is the first step. Now we can work on fixing it together."
"You think I'm strong?"
Who could ever resist those blue eyes? They're like Caribbean blue, the perfect match to the ocean.
And it looks like she's been containing an ocean of hurt all by herself.
"You are.” I nod. “And telling me was the best thing you could have done. We’ll put a stop to all of
this."
She breathes a sigh of relief, and it's like a huge weight has been lifted.
I lean in, kissing her lovingly and surprising myself with the gentleness of the act.
Normally, I'm not into kissing at all. Usually, I don't care. I’m all about the fucking. Get in, then get
the fuck out. But something about Stacy makes me want to care, and I feel myself having a change of heart.
More than just fucking her, I want to have her, to possess her.
Stacy…she’s like an addiction. And I’m ready for my next fix.
 Carter


I've been driving my father's Range Rover and I pull it up to the estate after having run some errands.
I’m surprised to see Kieran in the driveway, apparently waiting for me.
Is this about Stacy? Does he know that I fucked her?
That must be it.
I think about what I’ll say. There's no way I'm giving Stacy up, not yet anyway. She's the best lay I've
had in a very long while.
Kieran and I, while we used to be close, things have been cold between us. Percy's conniving ways
have drawn a rift throughout the entire family. Where once we stood firmly as three brothers united
against the world, now there’s distrust in the air. Nobody knows what's going on, and it's all his fault.
"Hey, man, what's up?"
"Carter, we have a problem."
"Let me guess, it's about Stacy, right? I was going to bring that up. I was just waiting for the right
moment."
"No. It's not about her. I mean, I know you fucked her. And I did too. And I am planning to continue
that,” he tells me with a quick shrug.
Well, okay then. At least that much is clear.
“But that's beside the point. We have a bigger problem at large."
"Percy?"
"Yup. And guess what the slimy little bastard has been up to?"
"I've been trying to find that out." No luck so far. Maybe Kieran’s done better at figuring it out.
We walk inside so that we can have more privacy, through the house and back out to the pool area
where Percy's ears can’t reach.
Kieran looks around, then leans forward. "He's been like a cancer to this family, eating away at
everything our father built. I know we’re not blood, Carter, but we spent all those years having each
other's back, and you’re the closest thing I have to family now. We need to stick together."
I consider what he's saying. I get it. We need to unite against Percy instead of letting him divide and
conquer.
"So what's he done? What's his angle?"
"I met with Stacy, and we had a very revealing conversation. She told me some things about Percy."
"Things? Like what?"
"Well, I'm sure you could see that their marriage is based on lies. He would never touch her."
"Of course." I shudder at the idea of Percy putting his hands on her body.
"It looks like he's holding something over her family,” Kieran continues. “He's blackmailing her in
some way and I'm not sure how, but it's bad. She's really torn about it, and she feels like one wrong move
could leave her family in total collapse."
Now it all makes sense to me.
I knew something was wrong. I instinctively knew that Stacy hasn’t been happy, no matter how well
she tries to hide it. The girl is a great fuck, sure, but she's also really kind and I find that endearing. I want
to protect her from Percy – she doesn't deserve to deal with his manipulations.
"So that's what’s been going on. I knew she wasn't pregnant. But she never breathed one word of it to
me."
He takes a seat on one of the lounge chairs and we watch the setting sun in the distance.
"I'm surprised she told me, Carter. I think she's finally had enough of his abuse. But I also think she's
still terrified of what might happen to her family."
I scrape my hand across my jaw. "Fuck, I know. That's not good, not at all. She must really feel like a
prisoner here."
"Oh, she is. She’s definitely a prisoner. He has her by the throat, figuratively. It sounds like we’re the
only ones who have touched her." He smirks.
After hearing this depressing news about what my brother's done, I just want to go to Stacy and fuck
the living daylights out of her to remind her that she has nothing to worry about as long as she's with me.
I’ll protect her.
Especially now that I know what’s going on.
"I'm so glad she confided in you, Kieran. Otherwise, where would we be? With Nolan acting all
crazy I have no idea who to trust anymore. I didn't think I could even trust you." Though I still can’t as far
as Stacy’s concerned. Kieran fucking my girl makes me feel a little crazy.
"Yeah, same here,” he breathes out, frustration dripping from his words. “Our father's house hasn't
been the same since he died."
"It puts everything into perspective, doesn't it?"
And that also makes me think of Stacy. She must have been feeling so vulnerable and alone. I've been
with her without even knowing what she's been going through, and some part of me wants to make that up
to her.
She's worth caring about. At least, I think I’m starting to care. It’s not something I’m familiar with.
"So," he says, "I think we need to put aside our distrust for now, and work together to solve this
thing. Percy has nothing now that we’re beginning to unravel his plan. Agreed?"
"Yes, agreed. I'm glad to have at least one ally. I was beginning to feel like there was nothing to do
except wait."
I feel better knowing that Percy’s on his way down – and by our hands. I've had to deal with him for
so long and I'm just done with it. He's never been a true man, and he has nothing but deception on his
hands. I feel hopeful about things now – maybe we’ll be able to keep our father's fortune entrusted to the
right people.
"So, what's our next move?"
"Not sure, but I know that we need to work together until father's true wishes are accomplished."
He holds out his hand and we shake on it.
And then I see her. As I stare, Kieran turns his head, and we both look up towards Stacy's balcony,
where she's come out in the skimpiest of lingerie. I smirk, remembering how I stole her lingerie when I
fucked her the first time. Call it a souvenir.
Fuck, she looks tasty standing there – and if I know anything about my brother, he’s thinking exactly
the same thing.
My cock is rock hard now, just watching her from a distance.
“Let’s go,” I tell Kieran, and we both stand up at the same time and start making our way toward the
house. It might make me crazy to think about Kieran and Stacy, but right now I want her so much that I’m
willing to share. If she wants both of us, she can have us.
And right now, I’m ready to show Stacy just how much we care about her.
 Stacy


I’m finishing getting dressed when I hear their footsteps echoing just outside my room.
I don’t know what took over me. When I heard their voices outside, almost under the balcony of my
bedroom, I knew I had to do something. I strolled outside, wearing nothing but my skimpiest lingerie, and
allowed the two of them a good look.
Did I want them to come up to my bedroom like this? Of course.
Was I expecting it? Not really.
I mean, I’ve already been with the two of them, but having them inside my bedroom at the same
time…who knows what might happen.
“And there you are,” Kieran says the moment he came rushing inside my bedroom. One look into his
eyes and I know exactly what’s going to happen – he’s going to ravage me, and he doesn’t care the
slightest if Carter’s here with us.
And that’s because…well, I think these really believe that sharing is caring.
Carter closes the door with his foot in a hurry. Kieran runs his fingers over my face, grabs my neck
firmly with his other hand and kisses me. Not a simple kiss, but a hard one full of desire.
One that makes my whole body scream, yearning to feel him inside of me.
I lean toward Carter, and gently pull him into me, grabbing him by his shirt. He smiles and kisses my
neck, going up until his mouth touches mine. His lips are on me, Kieran's flavor still lingering in my
mouth.
Well, it just makes me so damn horny.
This is absolutely perfect, being here with them. It’s all that I could wish for, really. Can this moment
last forever?
My lips press on Carter’s, and a storm of static electricity rages inside of me. My body buzzes with
pleasure, a fire threatening to rip my muscles apart.
While Carter kisses me, Kieran positions himself beside me and places his hands on my chest,
getting closer to me. His fingers feeling the warmth of my body, he starts kissing my neck.
I start to unbutton Carter´s shirt, revealing his sculptural body inch by inch. I run my fingers through
his chest and abs, stopping where a trace of untanned skin starts to show.
By now my body is already humming with pleasure from the inside out. God, I’m so damn wet, all of
me aching to feel them.
The moment the last button on Carter’s shirt pops open, I pull it down his arms. With him now half
naked, my eyes wander over his perfectly carved muscles. Burning with desire, his fingers start to draw a
line up and down my legs; each time closing in to my inner thighs, making my insides clench in delight.
My heart is racing like a galloping horse, one hell bent on finishing the race in first place.
 Kieran presses his body against mine, the huge bulging on his crotch tenting his pants. He pushes me
against the wall, his hands on my waist as he turns me around. My hands go to the wall, and I gasp as he
starts unzipping my dress, kissing my neck all the while.
I can hear his heavy breathing against my skin, all of him hungry for my body. He pushes the straps
down my arms and my dress starts to droop, bunching up at my waist.
“Why did you finish getting dressed?” Carter asks me with a smile. “The lingerie suited you just
fine.”
“I like being unwrapped like a present,” I reply with a slight laugh, and then I turn on my heels, my
mouth looking for Kieran’s.
We kiss and I close my eyes, allowing myself the privilege of going completely crazy – I hook my
fingers on Carter’s belt and pull him into me as well, his lips going straight to my neck and chest and his
fingers dangerously close to my completely drenched thong.
Sliding his finger up my inner thigh, Kieran helps him and pulls my thong to the side. Carter then
presses one finger right above my clit, rubbing it in fast circles and forcing me to pull out from Kieran’s
kiss so I can moan.
His finger then goes down to my pussy and strokes the whole length of it, before gently sliding his
finger inside me. He does it once. And then twice.
By the time he slides his finger in for the third time, my body is already alight with pleasure. Kieran
joins the fray and, pressing his thumb over my clit.
He’s applying downwards pressure and I almost feel my knees buckling under my weight. He
continues rubbing my clit, all while stretching his fingers and brushing one of them gently between my
inner lips in a coming and going motion.
I move my hips in their direction slowly, barely able to control myself; he just applies a bit more
pressure on my clit and I stop immediately, my whole body feeling an intense current of electricity running
through every single nerve ending.
I grit my teeth as my pussy tightens around Carter’s finger, a wave of endorphins hitting me at once. I
moan loud as I climax, both men playing me as if I were an instrument.
My body still reeling from the first orgasm of the night, I place my hands on their chests and push
them back. I gasp as I feel their fingers letting go of my pussy, but I don’t stop. I walk between them,
moving my hips teasingly as I cross the room toward the bed.
Once there, I turn on my heels to face them, I reach for the clasp in my bra and unfasten it. I let the
straps hang down my arms, the cups drooping over my breasts, but I keep the bra in place – they can peel
it off of me. Then, an inviting smile on my lips, I throw myself back on top of the mattress.
Kieran doesn’t wait for further instructions – he simply walks toward the bed and climbs on top of
the mattress. Before I can even blink, he’s already kissing me hard, his hand crawling up my stomach to
my still hidden breasts.
 Slowly, he starts to pull my left breast out of the bra, an erect nipple jumping into sight. He pulls on
it lightly, pinching it between his index finger and thumb, and then starts to rub it softly.
My body is going to explode with so much pleasure, I’m sure of it.
I look to the side as Carter follows Kieran, climbing on top of the bed and joining us. He lowers his
head toward my stomach and lays his lips there, letting them sail down to my waist and then to my inner
thighs. He starts to kiss them eagerly, pressing two fingers over my thong at the same time.
I close my eyes as I start to imagine him between my thighs, his full lips reaching for my pussy…Oh,
I want him to lick me hard, I want his tongue tracing the whole contour of my wet pussy. Somehow, he
seems to hear my thoughts – he pushes my thong to the side and, immediately after, he presses his lips
against my pussy. He moves his warm tongue up and down my inner lips, always circling my clit
whenever his tongue touches it. With each second that passes he starts licking me faster, his breathing
intensifying as his tongues jabs at me in a frenzied lust.
Oh, this is Heaven.
 Kieran


As Carter is licking her pussy, I abruptly grab her bra and pull it down her arms. I throw it off to the
floor, my hands immediately reaching for her breasts.
With no control over her own hands, all this pleasure making her tremble, she begins to unbuckle my
belt, tugging my pants down, anxious to set my cock free.
With a growl, she hooks her fingers on my boxer briefs and send them down my legs, pushing with
erratic movements. I grin at her and roll to the side, kicking my shoes off and pushing my own pants and
underwear down my legs.
Naked, I roll back to her, pressing my body against her. She rests her hand against my chest and let
her fingers go down my stomach, feeling contour of my abs before she goes lower.
She curls her fingers around the base of my cock and closes her eyes. Her hand starts to work on my
cock, moving back and forth at a frenetic pace.
At the same time, Carter takes absolute control over her pussy. His lips wrapped tight around her
clit, he starts to suck on it. Then, he parts her inner lips with her fingers and, before she has the time to
prepare for it, he slides his index finger in.
He does it slowly, but goes all the way in, only stopping when her back is arched in delight; he
presses hard then, drawing a purred moan out of her.
“I want you,” she tells me, brushing her thumb over her red lips and calling me in.
Without waiting for her to ask me twice, I kneel close to her head. She then lean into me and then
wraps her mouth around my shaft, sucking harder as Carter suddenly slides one more finger inside of her.
She starts rocking her hips against his hand as he keeps fingering her, flicking his wrist at her and sending
his fingers flying in and out of her aching pussy.
I place one hand on top of her head and, as I squeeze hard on her heaving breasts, I push her all the
way down my length.
Stacy lets herself go, my cock fitting over her tongue as she swallows me; she goes deep, and I mean
really deep…So deep, her lips are brushing against the root of my cock.
She starts bobbing her head up and down, matching the rhythm of Carter’s fingers inside of her. She
has to stop for a moment, gritting her teeth as Carter’s incessant pace makes her inner walls become
tighter around his fingers, squeezing hard on them. Realizing the way her pussy is succumbing to his touch,
he pushes his fingers even deeper, only stopping when her whole body seems to be on fire.
She screams, grabbing my cock with a harshness she can’t avoid while her whole body succumbs to
a violent orgasm.
Still with Carter’s finger in her, she leans into me and wraps her lips around me once more.
Changing positions, she kneels, sucking my cock as she turns her ass back to Carter. He runs one hand
over her round cheeks, grabbing at them harshly as he keeps sliding his fingers in and out of her, her wet
juices coating his hand.
I pop my cock out of her mouth, but just for the time necessary for me to stand up. Towering over her,
I grab my cock and guide it inside her once more, this time slowly thrusting my hips and fucking her mouth
as if I was doing it to her pussy.
As I handle her mouth, Carter keeps on sucking her again. He places one arm around her waist and
two fingers over her clit. He then starts rubbing it with furious and deliberate circles, his tongue lapping
at her with the same intensity.
She’s moaning hard, and she´s doing it with my cock inside of her, the sound of these moans nestled
on her throat and vibrating through my thickness.
“Fuck,” I groan, suddenly feeling close, and I grab her by the hair to make her stop.
She takes my cock out of her mouth and turns to Carter, moving as fast as a wild cat, and unbuckles
his pants in the blink of an eye. She unbuttons them, tugging on the fabric with both her hands, and pushes
them down hard, sending them flying down his legs with his boxer briefs, undressing him completely. His
cock springs free, hard and eager.
Stacy takes a couple of deep breaths and rolls to her back, opening her eyes to look at us. We’re both
grinning. She sits up on the bed and crawls toward us to the edge of the bed. She goes on her knees then,
looking at us as she licks her lips.
We accept the invitation, immediately going up to our feet, side by side fully naked. She leans
forward and begins to slowly kiss my shaft, then turning to Carter's.
Stacy switches between the two of us, savoring our cocks in turns. Her lips go to my cock, and she
opens her mouth and takes all of my thick member into her. The moment she feels my tip against the back
of her throat, she starts bobbing her head back and forth, increasing her pace each time she goes down.
While she´s doing it, my hands grab her hair, applying some pressure on her head and guiding her
movements. She pulls out then, my cock sliding out of her mouth with a loud pop; with my fingers curled
tight around her hair, I make her turn to Carter.
She goes low, wrapping her lips around Carter’s balls and sucking them lightly. Then she kisses up
his shaft, opening her mouth wide and taking all the length of his cock into her warm and ravenous mouth.
She keeps switching between the two of us as quickly as she can, her pace always increasing,
sucking until we’re more than ready to explode. Still, the moment she senses our bodies becoming taut and
rigid, she slows down – we’re not allowed to come yet.
There’s still a lot more to do.
She goes up to her feet. I lean forward her, cupping her ass cheeks harshly while my mouth wanders
down to her right nipple. Then, I throw myself back on top of the mattress, my mast pointing upward in an
inviting position. Happy to oblige, she climbs on top of me.
With cat-like movements she sits over my thighs and leans forward, brushing her breasts all over my
body. Grinning, she turns her back to me and moves back, positioning my face right between her thighs.
She eases herself down on my mouth and leans forward at the same time, my tongue brushing against
her pussy while she guides my cock inside her mouth.
As I continue licking her pussy and jabbing my tongue at her clit, a long moan leaves her lips.
Spreading her legs wider, she rubs her pussy against my mouth, rejoicing as I take a mouthful. She
grabs my cock with one hand and starts stroking, doing it so fast that I can’t even think straight.
As I devour her, Carter closes in on her and starts kissing her, Stacy’s attention divided between the
two of us. Kissing while I take care of her pussy, she doesn’t move until her whole body tenses up and she
explodes, a violent orgasm taking over her in a fraction of a second.
“Oh, God,” she breathes out, and then leans forward, taking her pussy out of my mouth.
She sits back across my thighs once more, her back on to me. She lifts herself up slightly and,
grabbing my cock, she points it up as she eases herself down, brushing my tip against me. Instead of
playing it gently, she throws all caution to the wind and simply goes down, my shaft piercing her in one
single stroke.
She lets out a mighty scream and immediately starts to rock her body against mine, her head thrown
back as her hair cascades down her shoulders.
While she rides me, Carter stands up on the bed, grabbing his cock and pointing it at Stacy. Almost
immediately, she moves her head forward, opening her mouth and taking it in.
As his cock rolls over her tongue, she lets the movements of her body against mine dictate the way
she sucks on Carter. She moves furiously, an ebb and flow to her motions.
Opening her mouth, she moves forwards and push Carter's cock down, allowing it to roll over her
tongue and go as deep as possible. Pulling back out slowly, she sucks on him all the way, her lips sliding
off his tip with a lewd sound.
Feeling Carter’s cock stiffening even more, she pulls his cock out of her mouth. She starts caressing
his balls as I fuck her relentlessly. My cock is sliding in and out of her like a rock hard pendulum, and I
simply surrender to the moment.
I am fucking her good, and she is fucking me hard.
Stacy gasps as my cock pounds her with ferocity. When I feel her pussy tightening around my cock
like a vice, I sway my hips, feeling her pussy rubbing against me as she moans.
I keep on going until a scream grows on her throat and escapes her lips, her pussy lips spasming
around my cock. I can feel her legs shaking, and her hands dart to Carter´s chest, fingernails plunging deep
into his pectorals.
I hold my cock deep inside her as her body shakes in ecstasy. Carter grins, seeing her creased brow,
wrinkles of pleasure embellishing her beautiful face.
Sharing has never been this good before.
 Carter


“My turn,” I find myself saying, and Stacy reacts almost immediately. She climbs down from Kieran
and goes on all fours on the mattress.
She juts her ass back at me and starts thrusting back in my direction, almost as if she’s pleading me
to take care of her aching pussy. She’s fucking insatiable, and that’s exactly what I like.
I grab her hips and, angling my cock down, I simply slide it inside her drenched pussy. I start
pounding her, not even bothering to start slowly – I just go all in right from the start, my whole cock
sliding in and out of her so fast I doubt she can tell when I’m going in or out. She screams at the top of her
lungs as I fuck her senselessly, screams of pure delight echoing inside my head.
While I pound her hard, she begins devouring Kieran’s cock, bobbing her head up and down and
sucking him at the same rhythm.
She wants to moan and she wants to scream – that much I can tell. But with Kieran’s cock buried
deep in her mouth, all that she can do is succumb to pleasure.
Changing positions, Kieran slowly goes up to his feet, standing in front of her. Stacy reacts by lifting
her arms over her head and laying her hands on Kieran's waist; her fingers slide across it, and she grabs
his round ass cheeks, pulling him in even more. With gentle movements, he starts to thrust, his length going
in and out of her mouth.
I slap her cheeks with the back of my hand, as she rocks her ass against me. With the brashness I’m
pounding into her, it doesn’t take more than thirty seconds for her to go from her hands to her elbows, hair
falling down on her shoulders.
Sweet pleasure courses through my veins, but I don’t stop. She pushes past all her limits and
continues thrusting back at me but, before she can come, I lace her waist and pull her back.
I lay down on the bed as she rolls into a sitting position over my cock, her back turned to me. She
grabs Kieran’s ankles, who’s still standing in front of her, and sways her hips back and front, left and
right, all over my pulsing cock.
She then starts jumping on my cock, and she´s doing it hard. I’m cupping her ass as she does it, and
she leans just a bit forwards, slightly bending my cock down.
“Fuck, Stacy,” I exhale sharply, slapping her ass again, harder this time.
My whole body becomes rock solid as she jumps on me with all the strength that she has in her. I
hook my fingers on her waist and pull her down onto me. She sits on my crotch as my cock goes as deep
as it has ever been inside of her.
“OH MY GOD!” She moans, her voice like the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard as pleasure courses
through her body.
I swear to God, there’s nothing like a woman moaning as she comes, especially one such as Stacy.
 “There’s more to come,” I tell her as I slide my cock from inside her, and I simply move away and
open enough space for Kieran to replace me.
I give him a slight nod, and he positions himself behind her, his long fingers grabbing her by the
waist as he points his hard cock towards the crevice between her thighs. With one single thrust he’s all in.
I move up the mattress, and she takes one hand and grabs my cock, guiding my flesh against her lips once
again.
She kisses my tip, her tongue circling it in abandonment as her body rocks back and forth with each
of Kieran’s trust.
I grab her by the head and start to thrust too, my other hand grabbing her tits and squeezing them hard.
She starts bobbing her head, my cock sliding in and out of her mouth furiously, and only stops to suck in
the pre-cum on my tip. Fuck, our cocks are completely punishing her and she’s loving every single second
of it.
She juts her ass back at Kieran, her ass cheeks slapping his thighs over and over again, the sound of
it making me even crazier.
Each time she rocks her body back and allow Kieran’s cock to slide deep inside of her, my shaft
goes back out over her tongue. She then does the opposite, moving forwards and making my cock brush
against the back of her throat as Kieran’s slides out her pussy. It’s a perfect pendulum motion, a never
ending dance of pleasure.
Kieran grabs her ass then, his thumbs over the dimples on her lower back, and he starts to thrust
wildly, a frantic rage pulling the strings of his movements.
She leans into my cock as her body is consumed by the holy fire of ecstasy, taking me in her mouth
and sucking on me.
Her pussy has tightened up around Kieran’s cock, but that doesn’t make him stop – on the contrary, it
only makes him go harder and keep thrusting while waves of pleasure crash inside of her.
She opens her eyes and, my cock is still inside of her mouth, she looks up at me.
That does it for me.
The moment I look into her eyes, I simply can’t stop myself from coming. I feel a burning fire taking
over my cock, and next thing I know my cock is pulsing almost too violently against her tongue and the
inside of her cheeks.
Knowing I’m ready, she sucks even more eagerly. A fraction of a second closer, and my eyes are
rolling in their orbits as I shoot all my cum inside her mouth.
“Fuck,” Kieran groans at the same time, and I realize that he’s coming as well, his body so tense that
his muscles strain against his skin.
“OH GOD, OH GOD,” Stacy suddenly blurts out, taking her mouth off my cock and closing her eyes.
I notice a bead of cum trickling down her mouth as she screams, an expression of pure pleasure taking
over her face.
 She’s bunching up the sheets, her fists closed so tightly that her knuckles have grown white.
Still in front of her, I simply take in the scene as she comes, enjoying every single second of it. I’ve
already been with her before, but sharing her with Kieran…fuck, this was different. Way different.
“That was amazing,” she sighs, and then simply collapses on top of the mattress, her eyes closed and
a smile on her lips.
“It was,” I agree, laying down by her side.
What the fuck is this woman doing to me?
What is she doing to us?
 Kieran


The old, yet restored library of the mansion is one of my favorite places.
It contains memories of long nights studying for college exams, and of my father telling us the ways
of the world. Being in here makes me miss him even more, but it also reminds me of home.
Yes, I’m at the mansion, but I can hardly call it home with the way things are right now.
At least reconnecting with Carter has been good. It's like we're back to being brothers and haven't
skipped a beat. Carter and I have been pouring over father's financial records for the last three days.
Stacy's been here the whole time, holed up with us, and we’re all in this together.
Come hell or high water, we’ll find Percy's weakness.
We've practically locked ourselves in here for the past few days. The library has become our own
little fortress away from the world. There are papers everywhere and books, data, and records.
Too bad that nothing within Raine's Petroleum has been adequately recorded. I'm seeing now that
while our father was a brilliant man, he wasn’t exactly the most organized one.
No wonder Percy thinks he can take hold of the company. There are so many holes in the financial
paperwork that with just a little bit of financial prowess, one could make their way into the corporation
quite easily. Still, though we haven't found the smoking gun, it feels like we’re getting close.
"Have you guys found anything good?" Stacy asks, her soft voice making me raise my head from the
documents I’ve been pouring over.
She comes behind me and hugs my strong shoulders. I haven't moved a muscle for a while, and I'm
aching to stretch my limbs and perhaps get my blood flowing. Maybe a sex session would do it?
That’s right – I'm quickly becoming addicted to her velvety pussy, and she's always in the back of my
mind somewhere. You try being trapped in here with a blonde goddess. You couldn't resist either.
I smell her coconut hair, her fragrant perfume…fuck, everything about her is intoxicating. I want to
rip the clothes off her body right here and have a quick little fuck, even if Carter’s involved.
Whatever makes Stacy happy now, makes me happy as well. Though my cock is getting hard, I have
to suppress all the desire – we have work to do.
I know Stacy will never be able to rest soundly until we find the key to her freedom, and that’s our
only mission now.
"Jesus, Stacy,” I whisper, closing my eyes for a moment. “You can’t be this close to me, you know?
Having you like this makes me want to bend you over this couch…. But we can't. Not with all this shit we
gotta read."
"Oh, are you getting hard just having me near?” she teases. “I think that's a good thing. Don't you
think that's a good thing, Carter?"
He looks up from his pile of paperwork.
 "I have no opinion on this unless you feel like coming over here and curling up in my lap."
I grab her arms and keep her tight.
"No way. You're not going anywhere." I kiss her and I feel her soft, full lips. I'm getting harder and
harder, my cock straining against my pants, and I relent.
"Fine, baby, come sit with me."
She curls up next to me and I hand her some of the papers. We sift through them for what seem like
hours before Carter eventually breaks through the silence.
"I've got something interesting."
"Finally. What is it?"
He stands and walks over to me. Carter hands Stacy a tattered ledger, one that upon clearer
inspection shows that money has been flowing out in a weird way.
"Can you see it? Money is going to Bale’s Oil, and that's clearly wrong, isn't it? That's not someone
Dad ever worked with."
"Yes, he actually had some major aversion to working with them. He always talked about it."
"I know, right?" It's common knowledge that John hated Bale’s Oil. He was always ranting about
them and how ruthless and amoral they are.
Carter sits on the couch next to us and we’re all left scratching our heads. I finally say what's on
everyone's mind.
"It's embezzlement, clearly. That's what we're all thinking, isn't it?"
"That's what I've been thinking," Stacy says.
She’s sitting in between us and her blonde hair is flowing down her shoulders. She looks like a tasty
treat wearing little shorts and my sweatshirt.
"That’s a serious crime. We need more evidence," Carter says. He doesn't hesitate.
We know that if we find the necessary evidence, Percy will end up in jail…but so what? He
deserves it.
"What we have here is only a shred of information. It's not enough."
I run my fingers through my blonde hair. This fucking situation is stressing me out. While it's been
nice to reconnect with Carter and to be with Stacy every moment, I have to say that thinking of someone
stealing my father's money is fanning the flames of rage inside of me.
We need more evidence.
"If we had a chart of the accounts we could find out more. A chart would prove it," Carter says.
"And the only person with access to that kind of information is..."
"Percy."
"Fucking Percy."
Stacy looks between us. "Guys, is there anything I can do to help? I want to help take him down.
There’s nothing I want more."
 "That's not a bad idea," I say, although I don’t like putting Stacy on the frontlines. "She does have
more contact with him."
Carter and I exchange a glance. He says what I can't.
"Stacy, he won't reveal that kind of information to you. Even though you're married, he doesn't trust
you."
She looks sad, like she wishes she could do more. But there's nothing else to be done. We can't win
this way.
"There is another option," Carter says, leaning back against his seat. "What about Nolan? I mean, he
used to be one of us and he seems to be in Percy's confidence. If he could just steal a look or a picture at
the documents we need…then we can nail him for embezzlement, and that’s a hefty charge. He’ll be
done."
To think of putting him behind bars doesn't even faze me. After all the years of torment and
dishonesty, I don't feel like I owe him much. And, more than anything, I want to put this behind us so that I
can focus on ravaging Stacy and not much else.
I even resent Percy for causing all this drama and forcing us to deal with this. I have a beautiful girl
who’s practically a prison at my beck and call, and yet I can't fuck her as much as I would like to because
of all this other shit.
The moment we solve this riddle, you can bet everything you own that I’ll spend every waking hour
of my day ravaging Stacy. That much I know for sure.
 Nolan


The guest house at the estate is not a bad deal.
I like it because it's removed from the main house and I can be myself out here, take the odd skinny
dip, and have my own private patio that looks out onto the stars. I prefer to be separated from everybody
and to have my own space, always have.
Normally I keep to my corner of the world and have little meaningful interaction with everybody
else.
I like women, yes, but I don't like to keep them close.
Stacy is different. There's something about her that intrigues me, and I don't know what it is.
She’s gorgeous, yes, but then there's something else beneath that, a kind of sweetness and a depth that
is uncharacteristic of most of the beautiful women I've known.
I will have to talk to her about this eventually but now is just not the time.
How can I have an honest conversation with her when I can't even be alone with my own thoughts?
The way I am under Percy's rule has me shamed and wanting to run from this whole situation. I wish
I could just take my motorcycle, drive down the highway and never look back. Unfortunately, money
problems have a way of following me, even into the sunset.
There's a knock at the door and I'm surprised to find Stacy's perfect body standing before me.
Maybe fate has just knocked on my door and I'm supposed to tell her my feelings?
Fuck, I’m thinking that instead of how I want to taste her tits while she moans at my touch.
"Come in," I say immediately.
Seeing her lights me up. She looks so damn fuckable, especially standing in the light of the full moon.
I want her. I've been craving her body.
"Hi," she says stepping in the door. It's like she walks on air.
How did she ever get so wrapped up in this family of chaos?
"I need to talk to you."
"Okay." I take a seat and pull her towards me.
The feel of her light body on my lap makes my cock get hard and I don't even try to hide it.
I know she wants me. I know she wants more and that is something I'm eager to give. There's
something special about her. There definitely is.
She slips down to the cushions so that her body is spread out and I'm cradling her head right near my
cock.
She probably is dying to taste it and that's why she's come by. I'm just about to unzip and give her the
fantasy when she interrupts.
"I need something really important from you Nolan."
 Now I'm curious but I can't deny my displeasure that she's come over here for something other than
sex.
Anything she wants though I will give to her.
"I need some paperwork...about Shell."
Okay, anything besides that I can give to her.
I clear my throat, "Uhm, how'd you hear about Shell?"
"Well," she says innocently enough. "Your brothers and I have been doing some digging, you know,
on Percy and I just thought you were the most logical person to turn to since you seem to know so much
about him."
She bats her eyelashes and I want to give her the world on a platter but I just can't.
"Come on baby, anything but that. My hands are tied."
"But it's just a tiny slip of paper. It wouldn't be hard to get. I could help you."
"Baby, I just...can't. It's complicated, you know."
She sits up obviously upset and not used to people telling her no. Who would deny that beautiful
face? I certainly don't want to be the one to do it and to shatter her notion of a perfect world where all she
asks for is given. I hate to say no this girl, but I have to.
"Nolan. Come on. It's important. You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't have a good reason to."
I attempt to calm her down. There's nothing worse than having the girl you're trying to be with think
of you in a lesser light.
"It's not me. It's Percy."
"What about him?"
"He's got me, okay. I had some pretty big gambling debts and he bought them out and he's holding it
over my head. I'm pretty much indebted to him now and I have to do his dirty work. You think I like being
around him? You think I don't want to help you? Of course I do, but I just can't."
I can't even believe I've told her all this but what can I say? She brings out the best in me. She forces
me to be honest.
"Oh, Nolan, I knew it had to be something. I knew you wouldn't side with that coward without a
good reason. The other guys they think you're a turncoat but I never believed it. Not for one second."
She's back in my lap again and I couldn't be happier. It feels good to be honest after holding such a
secret for so long.
Fuck Percy.
At this point, I can venture to say that I'm falling for Stacy. I’d do fucking anything for her and that
comes before any debt of money that could ever be incurred.
I might as well be more honest with a girl that I care so much about.
"Stacy, you are the queen of my heart. I think I'm falling for you. I want to fuck you from here into
eternity if you'll have me."
 She throws her arms around my neck and all thoughts of Percy and suspicion and money fade away.
For one moment we are frozen in time and I'm connected to her beautiful heart, and her beautiful body is
pressed up against mine and the feeling is immeasurable.
"Wait a second," she says pulling away. "What casinos did you say that you're indebted to?"
I don't know why it matters but I tell her, "They're primarily from Foxwild's Resort and Casino."
She gets a far off look in her eyes and then she is gone. My moment of bliss sustained.
"I'll be right back, okay?"
I lean back into the couch and wish for more...of Stacy. What is happening to me and my cold
exterior? I'm melting my facade, my toughness goes out the window all for this one girl. She's worth it.
 Stacy


I dash through the house with Nolan on my heels. He has no idea what's up, but I’m heading for his
brothers. I need them all to get in on this.
I know there’s a connection between what Nolan's just told me and everything else we've learned
about Percy. It's all coming together and I can't wait for them to know what I have brewing in my mind.
I run straight to the library where we have made our little haven, the safe place where we’re
planning to take down Percy.
Kieran and Carter look up from their work in surprise at my haste, but soon they’re standing and
getting ready to confront Nolan – they still don't trust him.
"What are you doing here, man? You are not welcome," Kieran growls, jumping up to his feet and
staring Nolan down.
He’s angry, I know, but he has no idea about what Nolan just told me.
Once they find out why he's been siding with Percy, all will be resolved.
"Shut up Kieran,” Nolan says. “I'm here for her."
"Oh, you think you have some claim on her now?"
"More than you do. I've always been better with women."
Kieran shoves him up against the wall at the provocation.
I’m distracted, sifting through binders upon binders of financial information. It's in here somewhere.
I know I saw it.
The guys are getting heated and I just need a couple minutes to sort everything out and then I can fix
this. If they could just hold off killing each other until then, that’d be great.
Nolan is getting ready to swing the first punch.
"Stop it!” I cry out, looking at them with a serious expression. “Look, I found it. Just come look at it
and then beat each other to a pulp later."
Their curiosity stops them more than anything. They come to my side and I triumphantly hold the
paper up for all to see.
"Just look! Nolan, I saw this earlier and didn't think it meant anything…but after you told me your
story I remembered it. This gets you off the hook. You don't have to protect Percy anymore."
Nolan peers at what I have in my hand. He breathes a big sigh of relief. The other guys have no idea
what I'm talking about but they will soon.
"Nolan, Percy bought that casino ages ago and he wrote off the gambling debts as part of the casino
purchase. He's been using you this whole time. He has nothing on you. You’re free!"
“Holy shit.” He whispers to himself, and then closes the distance between us and wraps me up in a
hug.
 Thank God I was careful enough to examine all the paperwork we 've been digging through. If I
hadn't remembered this little document, Nolan might never have got out of Percy's grasp.
At least he’s free.
I, however, am still chained to that jerk for the time being.
"Okay, what is going on?" Carter says, all serious, waiting for an explanation.
"So, Percy has been holding gambling debts over Nolan's head. He promised to financially destroy
him, but this piece of paper proves he's been lying the entire time. He's good to go."
"Wait," Kieran looks shocked. "You mean you've been siding with Percy because he was
blackmailing you?"
"Of course. What did you think? That I would blindly follow that asshole who made our lives
miserable growing up? Have some faith, Kieran. I thought you guys would have understood that there was
more to the story."
"Fuck,” Kieran whispers, lowering his gaze. “I’m sorry."
"Yeah, me too." Carter says, his tone a sincere one.
"So…brothers again?" Nolan asks, sighing with relief.
"Of course. We should never have doubted you."
"Yeah well, it's all thanks to this one that I'm free," Nolan holds me by the waist and kisses my hair.
The warmth and sincerity of his gratitude blazes through me, coiling with my lust and taking me
higher.
"We need to celebrate," Carter says, going to a secret cabinet that he pulls out of the bookcase. "How
about we break into Dad's favorite scotch and serve up a toast to his legacy?"
"Yeah," Nolan says. "He wasn't our father by blood but by chance, and that’s so much more
important."
Carter pours out glasses of a deep amber scotch, a smoky scent curling through my thoughts. It has a
rich flavor and it burns my mouth as I savor each sip and take in the satisfaction this evening has already
brought…and what more could come.
"To dad!" Kieran toasts.
"To dad!" they echo.
All seems to be well between my men, and now seems like as good an opportunity as any to make
this night a little more interesting.
“So now we can stop trying to destroy each other…and destroy Percy,” I say with a smile that takes
over my whole face.
They laugh good-naturedly and I'm so glad the war between them is over. Now it's time to really
celebrate and I want to give them each their reward.
I crawl up onto the oversized wooden desk and slink out of my shorts. I bend over so they can all see
my lovely pussy, and turn so I can witness their jaws dropping to the floor.
 Yeah, I know how to surprise a man.
And there’s nothing that a man likes more than celebratory sex. Still, three at once is a feat I've never
championed…but, oh, I'm about to.
 Nolan


The moment I see her thong hitting the floor, my heart stops. Not literally, of course, but Jesus! With a
sight like this, it’s a wonder my brain hasn’t imploded.
Stacy’s perfect. There’s really no other way of putting it. Her curves, the milky tone of her skin, her
long straight hair...everything about her seems to have been designed to drive men crazy.
Which is kind of ironic, considering that she’s married to Percy.
“Enjoying the sight, boys?” Stacy asks us, turning around and sitting on the table, her legs dangling
from the edge. I don’t know about the others, but I’m enjoying the sight…and a lot at that.
Before I even know what I’m doing, I take one step toward Stacy, my heart hammering away inside
my chest. I feel warm blood rushing down to my cock, and it becomes as hard as a steel rod in a just a
few heartbeats, all my desire channeled to between my thighs.
“Is that for me?” Stacy asks me, a lush smile on her lips as she reaches for my cock and brushes her
fingertips over the length of my boner.
“It’s all yours,” I tell her, conscious that Carter and Kieran are watching us.
And the weird thing is…I don’t care. I know they’ve been with her already, and I know that she
wants them as much as she wants me.
And if that’s what she wants, that’s what I’ll give her. I never thought I’d feel like this toward
someone, but with Stacy…she’s just different. She’s perfect, and everything around her becomes perfect
the moment her lips turn into a smile.
Lacing her arm around my neck, she pulls me toward her; I hold my breath as I watch her eyelids
droop slowly, and then it’s my turn to close my eyes. By the time our lips touch, it feels as if my body is
burning from the inside out.
I surrender to our kiss, parting her lips with the tip of my tongue as something savage takes over me.
Kissing her wildly, I tangle my fingers on her hair and force her to throw her head back. My lips go
straight to her bare neck, and I can’t help but pull at her smooth skin with my teeth, the moan that tumbles
out of her lips like the most perfect song I’ve ever heard.
As I kiss her neck, I let both my hands wander up to her chest, and I squeeze her breasts softly. The
warmth of her skin spreads over mine, and I almost lose it as I feel her nipples hardening under the palm
of my hand.
“I’m going to fuck you…hard,” I tell her, pulling back from her body so that I can look straight into
her eyes. She doesn’t offer me a smile – she simply returns my gaze, her lips framing the most perfect
smile I’ve ever seen.
“You will,” she whispers back at me, going for my cock again. “But you’ll wait,” she continues,
turning her around and grabbing my cock harshly. I can’t help but groan as she does it, her wicked grin
pushing all rationality out of my head.
Taking both her hands to my chest, she gives me a slight push and I take a step back. The moment I do
it, she slides down from the table and kneels in front of me. Her hands go straight to my belt and she starts
unbuckling it, that without taking her eyes off mine.
Sliding my belt out from its loop, she then looks around the library and smiles at Carter and Kieran.
“What are you waiting for? Come join us,” she whispers, her voice so seductive that it wouldn’t be
hard to imagine that her moans might be enough to make a man lose his mind fast.
Kieran and Carter slowly close the distance between them and Stacy, and their footsteps make my
heart race.
Am I really going to do this? Am I going to share the most fucking perfect woman I’ve ever met with
two other guys? Even though I almost expect the answer to be a resounding no, only one thought lights up
in my head.
Fuck yeah, I’m going to do it.
I exhale sharply as Stacy pushes down the zipper in my pants, my cock pushing back against my
boxer briefs. Still looking into my eyes, she hooks her delicate fingers on my boxer briefs and tugs them
down, my cock springing free and ready to greet her puckered lips.
I run my tongue between my lips, expecting more, but she turns her attention toward Carter and
Kieran. Moving fast, she unbuckles their belts and pushes their pants and boxers down their legs. The
three of us do it in a heartbeat – we kick off our shoes, take off our shirts and step out of pants, standing in
front of Stacy completely naked.
“Now who’s enjoying the sight?” Carter asks her, and her reply is a bright smile.
“That’d be me,” she whispers softly, reaching for their cocks at the same time. I watch as her fingers
curl around their thick shafts, but I become distracted as she leans into me, parting her lips and resting
them on the tip of my cock.
“Fuck,” I breathe out, laying my hands on top of her head. She doesn’t need any instructions – she
rolls her lips slowly down my shaft, only stopping when the tip of my cock is pressed tight against the
back of her throat.
I throw my head back and grit my teeth as she starts bobbing her head back and forth, her lips moving
with the same rhythm her hands are working on Kieran and Carter’s cock.
“Your mouth is driving me fucking insane,” I say, tangling my fingers on her hair and making her
stop. Still with my cock between her lips, she looks up at me; I can’t resist the sight.
I start thrusting, gritting my teeth as I look down and watch as my cock slides in and out of her mouth.
I keep that up until I feel myself on the verge of coming, and Stacy pulls back from me the moment she
feels it. Then, without a moment’s rest, she replaces her mouth with one hand and dives straight into
Carter’s cock.
She starts sucking him hard as she strokes me, but then she switches gears and moves toward
Kieran’s cock. She keeps that rhythm up for what seems like an eternity, her lips flying between our three
cocks, ravaging us completely until we’re all on the verge of coming.
For a moment, I almost believe that’s what she wants. For us to come all over her, our cum flying in
a high arch and landing over her naked body, covering her completely. Of course, I’m wrong.
She stops right on the edge of ecstasy, fully knowing that she’s playing a dangerous game. The state
we’re in…I don’t know if she’ll be able to take on three men such as us, completely overtaken by lust.
“Let’s have some fun,” she whispers as she goes up to her feet, a lustful glint in her eyes.
Fucking right – let’s have some fun.
 Kieran


“I’m game,” I tell Stacy.
Before anyone has the time to do anything, I take one step forward and press my naked body against
hers, both my hands landing on the perfect curve of her ass. I push her back until her ass is against the
table, and then I simply pull her up and force her to sit down on it.
“But first,” I say, “we need to return the favor.”
She smiles, surprised, but then that surprise gives way to excitement. Leaning in, I lay my lips on her
neck and then start tracking a downward line toward her breasts, my eyes closed as I savor her skin.
Slowly, I make the hike over her breast, and then I wrap my lips around her right nipple, softly
sucking it inside my mouth. At the same time, I place one hand on her knee and move it up to between her
thighs, cupping her wet pussy gently.
She sighs then, running her hands through her hair as I do it, and I immediately know what I have to
do. I press my thumb against her clit, and then part her pussy lips and slide my index finger in, curling it
upwards until I meet her G-spot.
“Oh, God,” she breathes out, her mouth pressed against my ear.
I feel a shiver going up my spine as I feel her velvety lips on my skin, and I simply slide one more
finger inside her tight pussy. Without thinking about what I’m doing. I start pumping my fingers into her
pussy fast, flicking my wrist so fast that I’m almost afraid my whole arm will be sore tomorrow.
“Kieran, that’s…” She starts to say, but then trails off as Nolan and Carter close in on her. Almost as
if we shared a telepathic link, they lean into her and wrap their lips around her nipples; at the same time, I
start fingering her faster and faster.
“FUCK!” She screams out, arching her back and burying her fingernails on my chest. She does it so
hard I wouldn’t be surprised if her nails scrapped my bones, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m too lost on how it
feels to be two fingers deep inside of her while she comes her brains out.
“I’m not done,” I tell her then, and I go down to my knees in front of her. Placing my hands on her
knees, I force her to spread her legs wide and I simply go for it. This time I’m not gentle nor kind – I go in
like a wild animal, my mouth open wide as I press it against her wet pussy.
My tongue goes straight to her clit, and I start flicking it at it fast and hard. Stacy lays her hands on
my head, grabbing my hair, and starts swaying her lips gently. As I feel her rubbing her pussy against my
face, I simply lose it and start devouring her, my lips and tongue working as one.
I don’t even know how to fucking explain it – to taste her, to feel her juices dripping down my
chin…it’s pure madness. The kind of madness that I enjoy, that is. One so fierce and all-consuming that it
leaves no space for rational thoughts inside my head.
No, my brain has turned all of its attention to processing the way Stacy’s pussy feels when pressed
against my mouth.
I keep on licking until her moans of utter ecstasy fill the whole library. Doing it suddenly, she holds
me by the hair and forces her pussy against my mouth. I can almost feel little spasms taking over her pussy
lips, and then she screams loud enough to shatter glass, her voice brimming with delight.
“Don’t be greedy, man,” I hear Carter say, and I pull back from Stacy’s pussy. I look up at Carter and
smile, fully knowing that my face must be glistening from Stacy’s juices. Going up to my feet, I get out of
the way and my two step-brothers take my place.
They kneel between Stacy’s legs, and promptly attack her. They don’t even allow her to recover
from her orgasm; they just dive into her pussy, one of them going for her clit while the other runs the tip of
his tongue up and down her pussy lips.
“You really drive us fucking insane, Stacy,” I tell her, the words escaping my mouth before I even
have the chance to consider what I’m saying. With one hand on top of Nolan’s head and the other on
Carter’s, she opens her eyes and smiles at me, her expression one of pleasure.
“That’s the only thing I want,” she tells me in one single breath, and then I just can’t help myself. I
place one hand on the nape of her neck and lean in, pressing my lips against her. She kisses me wildly, her
tongue sliding my mouth in a fraction of a second.
We keep on kissing as she places both her hands on my back, digging her fingernails into my
shoulder blades. As she starts to claw at my back, I realize that she’s close to coming. I keep on kissing
her through it, waiting for the orgasm to take over her.
When it happens, she simply stops kissing and moans against my lips, breathing so raggedly I almost
think she’s going to pass out.
“Are you okay?” I ask her with a smile.
“Okay?” She returns my question as Carter and Nolan pull back from her pussy, both of them
standing by my side now. “I’ve never felt better in my entire life,” she continues, that fucking delicious
smile still adorning her lips.
“Well, but we’re about to make you feel way better then,” Carter tells her, and I can tell by the tone
of his voice that we’re about to get serious.
“And how do you plan to make that happen?” She asks, and her tone is a defiant one.
“Just wait and see,” I find myself saying, my cock pulsing hard as I do it.
Just wait and see, Stacy.
 Carter


I'm freshly spent from being with Stacy. For once in a long while things are starting to look up. Even
sharing her with my brothers isn’t such a bad thing. At least I know them, trust them, and admire them. It
could be worse.
While Percy has brought havoc and chaos to our lives, he's also brought in Stacy, and that makes it
all worth it. Sometimes in life, your bleakest moments shift to deliver your greatest reward.
The way I'm feeling about Stacy, all obsessed with her and shit, well, it makes having a snake of a
brother a little more okay. She takes the rain out of any cloud. And more than that, she turns me on and gets
my cock rock-hard more often than any other woman could.
Stacy is unique and I'm falling fast. That's why I gotta get this plan into motion, and the first part of
that involves Percy.
I search the mansion and tear through every room looking for Percy. I swear I'm gonna kill him. I'm
in a fury over what he's done to tear this family apart.
Percy’s gone too far this time. By blackmailing his own brother, he’s crossed an invisible line that
makes this crime especially abhorrent. I’m checking each room in a pure rage trying to find him. He will
answer for this.
I find him in the kitchen, of course. Where else would he be? There he is, stuffing his face with food
like a fucking little piggy. It's disgusting.
His indulgences never fail to gross me out. And for him to be so flippant when people are suffering
by his actions, well that's the worst of all.
"Percy!"
"What the fuck do you want, Carter?" he says in between bites, his mouth stuffed full.
"You know you disgust me, right?”
"Do you think I fucking care?"
Jesus Christ, this man makes me sick.
"The way you've been trying to steal father's money is dispicable. Don't you care about honoring his
legacy at all? Or are you solely interested in his money?"
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Carter, get the fuck out of my face."
"Or what? What are you honestly going to do, Percy?” he sneers. “You can't touch me. I’m the one
person that you can't manipulate. I've seen through your childish tactics since we were young and I know
exactly what you're up to."
"Is that so?"
He smirks, and I know he thinks he has me. He thinks all his secrets are held close, that no one
knows what he’s up to. But he’s dead wrong. We have him right where we want him, at least in terms of
Nolan.
We still have to figure out how to get Stacy out from under his control. But maybe with us sending
Percy’s sorry ass to jail that’ll work itself out.
I can’t resist throwing this in his face. "I just wanted to let you know that in two weeks I’m going to
contest you at the reading of Father's will."
He shrugs. "He wasn't even your real dad. Why don't you step aside and let true family deal with this
matter?"
He’s such a fucking asshole. The words hurt. I won't lie. Even though I know I’m as much a part of
this family as anyone, it just reminds me of how our father isn’t here.
Percy’s a disgrace to this family and I shouldn't take what he says to heart. But he simply pushes all
the right buttons. He knows my weakness is feeling like I don't belong to any family and he's playing that
card.
But I don't let it show. I’ll never give him the satisfaction of thinking he’s wounded me in any way.
"You know, Percy, you can think whatever the fuck you want, but when that will is read, I’m going to
challenge you for control of Raine's Petroleum. I won’t stop until I have Father's company in the rightful
hands."
He barely looks up from his plate of food.
"Do what you gotta do, man."
He’s so smug and so sure that he has the upper hand on this. I know he's already read the will. I
know he's planning and scheming like always. But what he doesn't know is that this time there's
competition.
This will be Percy's final act of betrayal. He’ll never have power in this family again by the time
we’re through with him. He just doesn't know it yet.
I’ll let him keep gorging himself with his food and believe he’s master of his deceptive little world
for a while longer. The plan is set in motion, and now I just have to walk away without punching him out.
When you're confronted with somebody so vile, it's hard to bite your tongue and walk away.
Now that I know what Percy's been up to, how he threatened Nolan, well, I want to make it right and
pound his fucking flesh into the pavement. But when dealing with a crook like Percy, patience is a virtue.
He’ll get his in due time.
"I'll just leave you to it," I say, and turn to walk away. I feel his eyes on my back, and I'm sure he
wonders what my stance is and what I’ll say to contest the will. But he has no fucking clue just how bad it
will be.
We’re going to ruin him.
I smile to myself as I walk down the hall and I know our father would be proud of me right now. He
always knew Percy was no good, and his recent actions have proven it. But John was a father to me, and I
owe it to him to protect his good name and fortune.
I never fail. This time is no exception.
 Nolan


We lay there in silence, just listening to the beating of our own heart.
I’ve never been one for romance, but ever since Stacy fell into our lives...well, let’s just say that I
see things differently now. I just never thought that the moment I’d find love, it’d be at the same time as my
brothers...and with the same woman.
“We’ll fix this, I know we will,” Carter says, looking at the ceiling, one of his arms draped around
Stacy’s naked shoulders. “By the time we’re done with him, Percy will no longer be a part of this family.”
“It won’t be that easy, you know that,” Kieran says, his words fraught with tension. “It’s never easy
whenever Percy’s involved.”
“No, it won’t be easy...Percy knows what he’s doing,” Stacy agrees, and I feel my heart tightening up
a little as I hear her say it. She’s worried, I can tell—but who wouldn’t be worried in a situation such as
hers?
“Babe,” I whisper, turning to her and caressing her face with the back of my hand, “we’re here.
We’ll take care of you.”
I say softly, whispering the words against her hair and meaning every single one of them. I don’t
know what it is about Stacy, but I can’t help but feel this urgent need to protect her, to shelter from
whatever bullshit the world throws at her. I’ll move mountains for this girl, if that’s what’s required of
me.
“I know you’ll take care of me,” she whispers back at me, brushing her velvety lips against mine and
managing a weak smile. “But who’ll take care of my father?” She continues, lowering her voice and
retreating inside her mind. “Percy will ruin him if I don’t do his bidding. He’ll stop at nothing to get what
he wants.”
“Your father?” I ask her, and the silence coming from Carter and Kieran tells me they already know
the details of what’s going on with Stacy.
“My father,” she says, her voice quivering slightly. “Percy, he...he threatened to put my father out of
business if I don’t play this stupid game of his. And he’ll do it, I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, that fucking asshole would do anything to get his hands on father’s money,” Carter agrees,
pulling Stacy toward him as if he could protect her just by doing that.
“From what I’ve been reading, Percy has apparently bought a majority stake in your father’s
company, Stacy. He did it through some shell corporations a few weeks ago, and I assume he did that the
moment he read the will...he has been planning all this for a long time. I hate to say it, but the fucker is
more than just evil—he’s smart too.”
Fuck—Percy really thought this through. Just like he did with me, he’s using every person he can as
pawns on his personal chessboard, moving them around for his personal benefit.
 I feel my blood boiling inside my veins as I imagine what it must’ve been like for Stacy. To see her
father threatened, to become the sole person stopping her family’s company from crumbling...that can’t be
easy. And Percy doesn’t care. He’d do that a million times over if that meant he’d triumph over his.
Of course, what Percy doesn’t know is that we’re a family. Sure, he knows it on paper. But he
doesn’t know the meaning of it. He never saw us as his brothers, thinking of us as lesser members of the
family just because we’re not blood-related. But family isn’t about blood, is it?
Family’s about so much more.
I have to do something about this. I’ve spent too much time helping Percy further his plans, leaving
my true brothers and Stacy out on the cold...fuck, I hate myself for it. But that’s no use right now. Hating
myself for what I did will help no one—what will help is taking action.
Swinging my legs off the bed, I pick up my boxer briefs and get inside them.
“Where are you going?” Stacy asks me, and I can feel her reaching for me. Before she can lay her
hand on top of mine, though, I’m already on my feet, jumping inside my pants and getting dressed fast.
“I have some stuff I need to take care of,” I say, offering her a wide smile as I finish buttoning up my
shirt. I’m still not sure about what I’ll do, but I just know I can’t remain here in bed while Percy’s long
shadow is still cast over us.
I need to do something. Whatever is it. And I won’t stop until Percy’s ruined.
“What’s on your mind?” Carter asks me, sitting up on the bed, the sheets up to his waist. “If there’s
something we can do to help…”
“Fuckin’ right. If you have a plan, we want in,” Kieran says, adding his voice to Carter’s. Running
one hand through my hair, I let out a sigh and sit on the edge of the bed, resting my hand on top of Stacy’s.
“I don’t know what we can do yet,” I tell the three of them. “There’s only one thing I know for sure:
we’ll stop Percy, whatever it takes.”
“Whatever it takes,” Carter and Kieran reply at the same time, and I can see a faint smile taking over
Stacy’s lips. She can’t yet see a way out of the maze she’s trapped inside, but I know she trusts us to guide
her out.
And I won’t fail her, even if that’s the last thing I do in my life.
Going up to my feet, I look one last time at Stacy and then I leave the room, suddenly feeling more
confident about everything.
“I’m coming for you, Percy,” I whisper to myself, and I can’t help but grin at my owns words.
I got a plan.
 Stacy


I wander through the gardens alone, slowly walking under the dappled shade of the trees as I try not
to think of Percy. Of course, easier to say than to do.
Percy has become this ever-present figure in my life, and I have no idea how I can shake him off my
mind. The only time I can stop thinking of the situation I’m in, is when I’m with Carter, Kieran, or Nolan.
Or, really, whenever I’m with the three of them.
I still can’t believe that something like that happened between the four of us. I tought that the moment
the limo drove through the gates of this mansion, that my life would be one of misery—instead, I found the
three most perfect men. Forget about a Prince Charming—these three are so much better than that.
Ah, if only Percy wasn’t a part of it, my life would be absolutely perfect. But, then again, if Percy
hasn’t stormed into my life like this, I would have never met those three brothers. In a twisted way, I guess
I have to thank Percy for introducing me to them.
“You slut,” I hear someone say behind me, and I turn around on my heels to meet Percy. He’s
standing right behind me, and my gaze is almost immediately drawn to the flask he’s holding in his hand.
“Stop it,” I tell him, balling one hand into a fist. I’m tired of having him treating me like some used
rag.
“Stop what?” He asks me, closing the distance between me and him and grinning wildly. The
moment he closes in on me, I can smell the vodka in his breath. He’s drunk—the kind of drunk who can’t
help but stagger, stumble, and fall.
“You don’t like it when I call you a slut, huh?” he continues, his grin frozen on his lips. “Too bad,
because that’s exactly what you are, you bitch.”
“Leave me alone!” I cry out, taking one step back and preparing to get out of here. He moves fast,
though, and reaches for me. Grabbing me by the wrist, he forces me stop and pulls me toward him.
“You’re a whore, Stacy, why don’t you admit it?” He insists, his beady eyes locked on mine.
“You’ve always been one…I remember watching you growing up, and I always thought that you were
nothing but a slut.”
“What are you even talking about?” I try to release my hand, but his grip around my wrist is a tight
one. “Let go of me, you loser!” I insist, and give him one hard push. “You’re a creep!”
“I’m a creep, huh?” He growls, his fingers becoming so tight around my wrist than I can feel my
bones burning. “I think it’s time I start teaching you respect,” he lowers his voice then, and before I can
prepare myself for it, he slaps me with the back of his hand.
His movement is so sudden and hard that I don’t even resist. I feel the force of impact and I stumble,
my cheek burning. I look at him, lips pursed as I imagine what he’s going to do next. We’re alone in the
garden, and even though he’s much smaller than his brother, I don’t know if I can take him on.
 He starts walking toward me, his eyes narrowing into two slits, and he reaches for my hair.
“Come here, you lil’ bitch,” he whispers, and I can’t help but feel scared. I close my eyes, anxiety
gripping me tight.
“Not so fast, you fucking asshole,” I hear Carter say, and when I open my eyes I see him holding
Percy by the wrist. “What’s going on in here?”
“None of your business, Carter! She’s my wife, and I’ll do whatever I—”
“If I were you,” Carter says, his tone a threatening one, “I’d think very hard about what you’re going
to say next.”
Percy seems taken aback at Carter’s words, and so he just sinks down into a sunken silence.
“Is this how it’s going to be?” Percy says, finally managing to find his voice again. “You’re going to
choose this whore over your own brother?”
That does it for me.
The moment I hear the word whore leave his mouth, I don’t even think—I just act. I take one step
back, allow my right leg to swing back and then I launch it straight at Percy’s crotch.
I feel my ankle smashing right between his legs, and all blood leaves his face in a fraction of a
second. He becomes as pale as a snowman, and when Carter lets go of him he just folds onto the floor.
“I told you not to call me that,” I tell him, leaning in and looking straight into his eyes. There’s pain
there—pain, confusion, and surprise. But there’s also rage, a desire for vengeance. After what I just did, I
know that my time’s running out.
Percy will come after me, and he’ll pull no punches.
Oh, well, if that’s how it’s going to be…
Without even thinking about what I’m doing, I reach inside my purse and take out my can of mace. I
point it straight at his eyes, and before he realizes what I’m doing, I mace the fuck out of him.
“ARGH!” He screams out, covering his eyes with the palm of his hands as if they were on fire.
“That’s the lesson of the day,” I tell Percy, suddenly feeling more confident than I’ve felt in weeks.
“Don’t fuck with me.”
With that I turn on my heels and, arm-in-arm with Carter, start walking out of the garden. We leave
Percy behind us, crying out of in pain.
Well, this is it.
Retaliation is coming.
 Carter


“Where are you? We need to talk. Right fucking now,” I say into the phone, my fingers wrapped so
tight against the damn thing, I wouldn’t be surprised if it shattered into a million little pieces.
“In the house. Meet me in the ballroom,” Kieran replies, and he knows that by the tone of my voice
that I have no time to answer questions. Not over the phone at least. This is too important, too serious.
After what just happened with Percy, the clock is ticking fast. War’s coming, and we need to be
ready for it. Percy’s going to start moving fast, and he’ll bury us in a matter of hours if we’re not prepared
for it.
Lucky for us, I don’t think he knows who the fuck he’s dealing with. Sure, he’s known all of us since
we were kids. But from the level of his arrogance, I doubt he’ll expect us to counter his moves.
He think he still has Nolan under his thumb, and he doesn’t know that we’re aware of what’s in the
will. He fancies himself as some kind of master manipulator, and that’ll be the end of him.
Thing is, I’m still not sure of how we’ll get out of this mess. As confident as I am on our ability to
pull through and rescue both Stacy and our family’s fortune, it’s a fact that we still don’t have solid plans.
And without a plan, we’re at his mercy.
“What happened?” Kieran asks us the moment he sees us walk inside the ballroom, and I notice his
eyes darting straight to Stacy’s face, where Percy’s fingers have left a mark.
Swear to God, just thinking of that is enough to make me want to kill him. I can’t believe the fucking
asshole dared raise his hand against Stacy. I should’ve broken his arm right there and then, fuck the
consequences.
“What happened is that we need to move against Percy. Right now,” I tell him, and Kieran just nods.
He has seen the mark of Percy’s fingers on Stacy’s face, and he doesn’t need me to explain what went
down.
“Where’s Nolan?” He asks me, pulling out his phone from inside his jacket, then starts dialing. “He’s
not picking up.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Doesn’t matter. Just call Ardmore and tell him we need to meet right away,” I
instruct Kieran, and he starts calling the family’s lawyer right away. He hasn’t put the phone up to his ear
when Percy stumbles inside the ballroom, pushing both doors open at the same time.
His hair is dishevelled, and his eyes are red and swollen. It’d almost be a comedic sight if it weren’t
for the fact that he has us all by the balls.
“Feeling special, are we?” He growls, looking around the room like a caged tiger.
Usually he’s always cowering in fear, but I think that his boiling rage has gotten the best of him. It
won’t end well for him if he decides to take a swing at us—sure, his treacherous tricks might have us
against the wall, but if he decides to trade fists with any of us...well, that’ll be a whole new conversation.
 As for me, I almost want him to take a swing at him. Let him come. I’ll punch him so hard his teeth
will be pinned against his brain.
“What the fuck do you want, Percy?” I growl right back at him, digging my fingernails into the palm
of my hands so hard that I almost draw blood. “Haven’t you learned your lesson?”
“I think you’re the ones that haven’t learned the lesson,” he continues, lowering his voice
menacingly. “You fucked my wife, and now you think you’re on top of the world, huh?”
“I was never your wife!” Stacy suddenly cries out, standing between me and Percy. Her cheeks are
flushed, but there’s a certain determination in her eyes. She’s breaking the chains that Percy has her
shackled with.
I just hope we can save her family.
“Oh, is that so, Stacy?” Percy whispers, taking one step toward her. “Too bad your father will be
sorry about those words,” he continues, wiping the spit out from his lips with the back of his hand. “All of
your family will be sorry about that.”
“Don’t you fucking dare lift a finger against her or her family, motherfucker,” Kieran joins the fray,
and I actually have to place my hand on his chest to stop him from knocking Percy out cold. He’s aching to
bury his fist against Percy’s face, and I totally get it—I feel exactly the same.
But we can’t make the situation even worse.
“You’ll regret this,” Percy says, looking around the room as if he was shooting lasers out from his
eyes. If hate could murder, I venture to say we’d all be dropping dead right now.
“You’ll fucking regret it,” he continues, taking his phone out from his pocket. “Your father’s done,”
he then tells Stacy, and I watch as all blood drains from her face.
This is it.
We’re fucked.
“NOT SO FAST, MOTHERFUCKER!” I hear someone say as the doors to the ballroom swing open,
slamming against the wall. Nolan storms inside the room fast, stalking toward Percy, and he snags the
phone out from his hands.
With a grin on his face, Nolan drops the phone to the floor and then crushes it with the heel of his
shoe, smashing the screen.
“Someone’s done, alright,” he tells Percy, looking straight into his eyes. “But that person’s you.”
 Nolan


The look on Percy’s face is priceless.
Swear to God, I’d spend a fortune just so I could capture his expression of surprise. He wasn’t
expecting me to storm in like this, and he sure as hell wasn’t expecting me, of all people, to take the phone
out of his hands.
His eyes are wide, so much that they’re bulging out of his sockets. There are beads of sweat on his
brow, and his lips are a thin line of disbelief. Just like I said: priceless.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks me in a subdued whisper, taking one step back.
I close the distance between us, grab him by the scruff of his shirt and push him back until he’s
pinned between me and the wall.
“The tables have turned,” I growl, leaning in and smelling the fear. My blood’s boiling, and I’m
more than ready to move in for the kill.
“What are you talking about?” He insists, looking toward the door, almost as if he’s looking for a
way out. No such thing right now. He had us all trapped for so long, and now he’s the one cornered.
“You’re lucky we put up with you for so long,” I continue, and Kieran and Carter join my side. I look
from one to the other, and return the smile on their faces. “The only reason we put up with you for so long,
was that we didn’t know the reason behind this bullshit marriage story of yours.”
“Fake marriage? That’s not—”
“Shut the fuck up, Percy,” I tell him, and then I just slap him. I don’t even dignify him with a punch.
No, I just slap him with the back of my hand, doing it as if he were a little bitch. Well, not as if he weren’t
—he truly is a little bitch.
“Your debts—”
“I don’t give a fuck about my debts,” I continue, cutting him short once more. And slapping him
again, of course. Fuck, this feels good. More than good.
“I know all about your bullshit, Percy. I know you have nothing on me. It’s all smoke and mirrors,
motherfucker. I’m free from your grasp.”
“I’ll fucking ruin you, I’ll destroy all of you!” He shouts, looking around the room with scared eyes.
“You’ll do nothing of that sort, Percy.” I finally let go of his shirt, and he just slides down the wall to
the floor, crumpled like an empty paper bag. “You know what I did before coming here? I called the
fucking cops.”
“The cops?” He asks me in a whisper, his voice so low that I can barely hear him. But I don’t need
to hear him—I can smell his fear.
“The cops,” I nod. “I did a little digging you see. I made a few phone calls, dug through a lot of
financial files, and discovered a few things about all these shell corporations you’re involved with.”
 This time he doesn’t say a thing. He just looks up at me, cowering, and both his hands start trembling
at the same time. He knows I’ve got him. He knows there’s no escape.
“Stacy’s father isn’t in any real trouble, is he? The companies you used to buy a majority stake in his
company are all bullshit. The money you used was all fraudulent, and a good portion of it funneled
through money laundering operations. I always knew you were a pathetic weasel, but I was actually
surprised to find out just how much of a fucker you are.”
“That’s…that’s a lie!” He sputters, talking so fast that spit starts dripping down his chin. He wipes it
with the back of his hand and then tries to go up to his feet, using one hand to support himself against the
wall.
“Well, you pulled through,” Kieran says, patting me in the back.
“You did, man,” Carter adds in, placing one hand on my shoulder as well.
“All I needed was some direction,” I tell them all, taking one step back from Percy. “The moment I
knew what was going on with Stacy’s father, it was just a matter of doing some digging.”
“You have no proof, none at all!” Percy continues to sputter, his eyes focused on the door. I know
that, given the chance, he’ll just run for it. Tough luck for him, though—he’s not going anywhere.
“You’re wrong, Percy,” I whisper, enjoying the way I can’t stop smiling. I reach inside my jacket and
remove a couple of folded documents from the inside.
“Here’s your proof,” I continue, throwing the papers against him. They float around his body, drifting
down to the floor, and he just stares at me slack-jawed.
He doesn’t need to see the documents.
He knows I have him.
“NO!” He cries out, doing it like a girl, and then starts racing toward the door. Moving fast, Kieran
reaches for him and grabs him by the collar of his shirt. He pulls on him hard, and throws him over the
large table.
“Not so fast, asshole,” Carter adds, closing both doors and locking them. “You’re stuck with us now.
At least until the cops get here, that is.”
Percy gets up, looking around the room for an exit. For a moment, I almost think he’s going to jump
through the window. I dismiss that thought almost immediately—a coward like Percy would never do
something like that. I can imagine him going down on his knees and begging us not to turn him in, but it’s
too late for that.
We could’ve been a family, the four of us, but Percy never wanted that.
He’s my brother, yes, but that’s just on paper.
My real brothers are Kieran and Carter.
“Is this real?” Stacy whispers, coming up to me and hugging me tight. I look into her eyes, and smile
as I see them brimming with tears—tears of joy.
“Yes, it is…as real as it gets, Stacy. You’re free.”
 Stacy


You’re free.
The moment I hear these words, I can’t stop it—I feel the tears coming, and I don’t even bother
trying to stop them. I let them run free down my face, ruining my makeup, but I don’t even care about it one
bit. This time they’re tears of joy, and it feels good to have them run down my face.
Hell, it feels more than good. It feels absolutely perfect.
“Please,” I hear Percy whisper, and his voice is weak, frail…and pathetic. Just like he is. It’s almost
funny, though—I can’t believe I’m hearing him like this. It’s such a far-cry from his arrogant ways. I
probably shouldn’t feel like this, but screw it—I’m enjoying each and every single second of this.
“Please?” I repeat, walking up to him, my voice so harsh it sounds foreign to my own ears. He’s
sitting on one of the chairs, his hands tied behind it, and his eyes are wide with desperation.
We really didn’t have to bind him, but I guess, we kind of wanted to see him like that. I know I didn’t
want to pass up the chance to see him tied and on the verge of tears.
The Master Manipulator on his hands and knees, at last.
He played us all, made us dance like puppets…but he ended up dancing to our tune, didn’t he? A
tune he never expected to hear.
“Are you begging us for mercy? How do you expect me to show you any mercy when you treated me
like an object? When you used me, when you threatened to destroy my family?” I continue, looking down
at him with…contempt? Pity? I don’t even know how I feel toward him anymore. Before all this, I hated
him, but now…I just don’t care about him.
I have my freedom.
I have my men.
I’m not going to waste a single thought on this shadow of a man.
“And here they are,” Nolan whispers, peeking through the curtains as a parade of police cars stop on
the driveway.
A small army of men in uniform start rushing toward the house, hands on the butts of their guns as if
expecting to find some kind of financial Scarface holed up in this mansion, guns ready to blaze.
“Chill out, guys, your man’s right here,” Kieran says, opening the door to the ballroom and casually
waving toward Percy. “We got the job done.”
Without a word, the cops step into the room, racing toward Percy.
“You’re under arrest,” one of them, a tall guy with a bald head, growls at Percy. He hauls him up to
his feet, cuts the rope we had him bound with and replaces it with a set of brand new handcuffs.
Percy’s no longer just on the verge of tears—no, he’s crying like a little girl, tears running down his
cheeks as he sobs, snot hanging from his nose.
 Now that’s a sight I want etched in my memory forever.
“Please, stop them!” Percy wails, looking at his three brothers, pleading for them to rescue him.
He hasn’t given up yet.
“Do you seriously think you’ll see any mercy from us?” Kieran says, walking toward him and
stopping the cops before they drag Percy out of the ballroom.
“After what you did to us…after what you did to Stacy…you’re not our brother, Percy. You’re no
one. Father would be ashamed of you…and so are we.” He takes a deep breath, runs one hand through his
hair as if he’s trying to rearrange his thoughts, and only then does he continue.
“And the moment you enter that police car waiting for you right outside, we’ll all forget about you.”
“No, please…” Percy continues, but Kieran just turns his back to him and walks toward me. I watch
over his shoulder as the cops drag him out the door, leading him outside and stuffing him inside one of the
cars on the driveway.
The moment Percy’s inside the car, he lowers his head and buries it in his face, sobbing and wailing
uncontrollably. Even from here, I can hear his cries out of utter desperation. I tuned them out real fast.
Just like Kieran said, the moment the doors close, I forget all about Percy.
That chapter of my life has been closed.
And a new one is about to begin.
Going on tiptoes, I brush my lips against Kieran’s and then turn around to look at Carter and Nolan.
They walk toward me, their eyes never leaving mine, and place their hands on my waist. I’m right in the
middle of them, circled by three perfect men, and I’ve never felt as happy as I do now.
My life couldn’t be any more perfect.
I know that I should be picking up the phone to call my father, but right now I simply don’t want to
waste any time. I’ll do that later. Right now, I just want to enjoy this moment.
“We did it,” I whisper, looking at the three of them. I can hear my heart beating fast inside my chest,
and I’m so happy that I can’t even think straight. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline, desire, or whatever—
all I know is that I want them to pick me up from the floor and take me upstairs to one of the rooms.
Or, hell, maybe they could just fuck me right here. I know I wouldn’t mind.
“Time for some celebration, wouldn’t you say?” I ask my men, and the look on their eyes tells me
they agree.
Time for some celebration indeed.
 Stacy


We don’t wait long.
Not even one minute has passed after the last cop car left the driveway, and the four of us are already
holed up inside my bedroom. Sure, we could have done our little celebration downstairs, but a proper
celebration needs a proper bed.
Besides, we now have all the time in the world to fuck inside every single room in the house. Which
I expect we’ll start doing soon enough.
Turning around to face the three of them, I suck in a breath and exhale, pushing my tits out for the men
I've come to love.
I'm here for the full experience now. This isn’t about casual sex, and I no longer fear Percy.
I’m free now, and this is about…love.
God, my heart is beating so damn fast and my panties are a wreck. I'm so wet and sticky from being
so turned on.
I can't believe this is really happening. For a time, I never thought my fantasy would come true. It
seemed…impossible.
To beat Percy and end up loved by three perfect men?
No, I can’t say I believed that this would be how my story would end.
But here we are.
Those sheets are shockingly clean, I think, looking back over my shoulder at the bed. We'll fix that.
I started to tuck my thumbs under the corner of my top but that's when Kieran and Carter each grab an end
and rip.
For a half of a second, I want to protest, but, fuck it, this is so hot.
"Finally," I say, and they all smile. My voice has this slutty little lilt to it, and I didn't mean for it to
happen, but I roll with it.
"Fucking finally," Nolan agree in a slow drawl that makes my pussy tingle. I want that mouth on me.
Kieran grabs one of my free tits.
"That’s right…you’re ours now," he says, winking at me.
"All yours," I repeat, my blood heating up with desire.
The men all exchange looks and Carter lifts me up in his arms.
I straddle him, grinding my pussy against his hard cock and push my breasts into his face. He drops
me against the bed and pulls my arms up. He pulls back, and I can tell by how he's looking at me that I'm
not supposed to move.
That's when Kieran and Nolan pull my pants off, then my panties.
I'm squirming with need while doing my best to keep in this position. Though I'm not opposed to
feeling some discipline should I misbehave, of course. Everything that comes from them is perfect, even
punishment.
I want a taste of everything they have to offer. I promise myself—and my wet pussy—that I'm going
to go all out and have the fuck of my life tonight.
Tonight, we celebrate.
Shyness need not apply, because tonight I'm all about making the most of this experience. Since I met
them, that's how I've started to think about every moment. I guess these men have changed my perspective
in all sorts of things they’ve shown.
Tonight, they'll show me even more.
Carter's pulled off his shirt and he's working on his belt now. I'm ready for him now, my pussy
aching to be stretched by him.
Oh, I swear, the moment he pulls it out, I'm going to suck his cock like a big lollipop.
I'm wet, but I need to wrap my mind around taking that cock. What better way than with my lips?
I think I'll swallow him down my throat as much as I can, and give him a preview of how I want to
squeeze that monster cock with my pussy when he finally does fuck me.
I turn my gaze to Kieran and Nolan. They're both hard bodies, too, and their cocks are good
company. Fuck, my pussy stays in a constant drenched state around these gorgeous men, a throbbing as
sure and constant as a heartbeat aching to be fucked by them.
As they undress, I feel my actual heart beating faster and faster, racing with the need that’s consuming
me.
They’re all fucking huge. They are rock-hard, pulsing, and I'm licking my lips as I see them all
coming right for me.
I can’t believe I’ll have three magnificent cocks like these just for myself, for the rest of my life.
Stroking their hard cocks, they come toward me. Carter brings his cock to me first and I scoot my ass
across the bed a little so I can give him a deep suck. I know how to suck cock—I sure learned with them
—and I'm proud to show off.
"Let me take you deep."
I take delight in knowing that my mouth on the men I love ruins them for all other women. Not that I
need to—after me, there’ll be no other women. I’m theirs, yes, but they’re also mine.
I'll rock his world, I don't mind saying so.
"Fuck, put your tongue out. Stacy,” he tells me, his words brimming with lust. “I'm going to slap that
naughty tongue before I ram this down your throat,” he tells me, his words making my pussy become even
wetter. “You're such a bad little girl, aren’t you?"
"Oh, you have no idea."
I'm going to suck him so hard he'll be begging to fuck me.
"Can you keep that up when I'm deep in your pussy?" Nolan grins, stroking the length of his cock
against me—I'm wet, slippery and sticky all over here—mixing some pre-cum that dribbles from his
massive cock. "I think this is a challenge I want to see you meet."
Kieran grabs my hand and puts his cock in it.
"Keep me hard while you get railed, baby. I'm using all the cum you make to fuck your ass so hard,
you forget your name."
I can't help but gasp at the erotic promise in his words. Heat coils through my body, insistent and
raging inside me, longing to be sated.
Well, fuck, this is even better than I could've imagined. I am so goddamn wet that my whole body is
aching.
I put my tongue out for Carter and he slaps a nice mushroom stump to my tongue. He's salty,
masculine to the taste, and I love it. I moan as he rams his cock deep down my throat.
I focus on breathing through my nose and swallow him up.
He's groaning.
It is so hot when you hear a man make that kind of sound when you take his cock. Nothing says job
well done quite like that. It gets me even wetter.
I'm pumping Kieran's cock in my hand, stroking my thumb across the sensitive underside. I can't
believe this whole cock is going to be in my ass later, but I'm more than up to the challenge.
That's when Nolan presses the tip of his cock on my pussy.
He doesn't wait; he doesn't pause. He slams his cock balls-deep into my pussy and I stretch to take
all of him, rolling my hips for him.
At the same time, Nolan's thumb is working tantalizing circles on my clit and that makes me buck
against him and he holds my thighs down, far apart, as he keeps slamming into me.
Fuck, I keep stroking Kieran while Nolan's cock drives me wild, and I'm sucking Carter, working
damn hard to focus on making sure he's having the goddamn blowjob of his life.
He pulls out. My tongue works with the suction I keep, and I feel him already throbbing for my
mouth.
He thinks fucking my mouth is good?
Wait till he's in my pussy.
Nolan's hands are pressing so hard into my thighs I know they are gonna bruise, and he's fucking so
hard into me that I'm screaming out against Carter's cock, but I'm keeping the pumps up on Kieran's cock.
Nolan trails his hands up to my hips, and I'm shivering from his hands leaving my clit for that
moment. That's when he moves the angle and he's hitting my g-spot and rubbing my clit perfectly.
Kieran pulls my hand off his cock.
"You better come hard for Nolan, because I'm getting in that ass while you lick him clean."
Carter's cock pops out of my mouth and I gasp.
"And I'm fucking that pussy, too, while my brother's deep in your ass. You like being owned like
this?"
I moan, the feral growl in Carter's voice making everything impossibly hotter. Electricity is surging
through my whole body and I'm shaking.
The orgasm from Nolan slamming into me is building. He pulls out and works my clit and I scream
loudly, mouth not muffled by cock right now, and Nolan slams his cock hard in me, taking all my cum.
Kieran stifles my scream with his cock, jamming it in my mouth so fast I'm dizzy. I come while
licking and sucking his length. I'm fucking shaking but they’re holding onto me.
We're far from done. I can tell.
And even though I'm coming so hard, I know I've got miles to go before I sleep, too. And I'm looking
forward to these men putting those miles on me.
I continue sucking Kieran's cock, and Nolan lifts me up and holds me so that my back is against his
stomach. His cock is creamy and covered in my cum, and he presses it right to my ass.
I jut out for him and feel the tight ring of my ass take him. I have a ferocious shivering, burning lust
surging through me. I'm not done coming when his cock is slamming up my ass.
I take him all the way, and that's when Carter looks me in the eyes while he presses his cock into my
pussy.
I'm stuffed so full that I'm screaming against Kieran's cock, but I can't close my eyes because looking
at Carter makes my body shiver. That pushes me over the top, seeing me get fucked so thoroughly. Carter's
face enraptures me.
I watch him grip my hips and slide deep into me. I can see his cock and feel Nolan's cock spearing
my ass.
They aren't trading turns filling me, either, they are both filling me and then sliding out until I almost
feel empty, and then filling me to the brim with cock.
I'm screaming against the cock in my mouth and keep sucking because I'm not about to be ungrateful
for these dirty men showing me such a good time. They fulfill my every passion.
I fall back, sweat dripping down my body, as the sensations overtake me.
I'm trembling between the three of them, but they have me. I've got to focus on remembering to
breathe before I pass out from cock overload.
Suddenly, all three cocks are pulsing inside of me. My eyes shoot open again, desperate to see
Carter's face while he and his two brothers come hard inside me, filling me to the brim with cum in every
hole.
I swallow the load that Kieran shoots down my throat and I watch Carter's face as he unloads inside
me. Nolan's hands are holding my tits, squeezing hard while he keeps his cock up the hilt in my ass.
I'm so full of cum that it is dribbling down my thighs and on my chin. My heart is racing a million
miles per hour and I might burst any second from the intensity of the sensation.
"Give her to me," Carter gruffly commands. I watch his jaw, it is tense and I realize how possessive
he's being and it turns me on. The fun is going to go exactly how he wants it to and that arouses me so
much.
I want to please Carter even more than I want, to keep coming until it feels like my body is empty.
How can I feel anything but empty after they pull their cocks out of me? Kieran's cock slides out of my
mouth with a wet sound and Nolan's hands release me to Carter. Slowly, Nolan's cock slides out of me
and I'm trembling in Carter's arms.
Carter's mouth sinks into my collarbone and he kisses me, nibbles me, while he pulls me down on
his cock, fucking my ass now and bringing his hand down to torture my so-sensitive clit. I'm crying out
and he's holding onto me.
"Keep these boys hard," Carter growls. "You know we aren't done with you. Today’s a special day,
and you deserve all the best." Carter pulls me up and down on his cock and circles my clit. I pull my
hands out and fist Kieran and Nolan's cocks. They are rock hard and I'm keeping them that way. They're
sticky with cum and practically shivering at my touch.
This is the hottest night I've ever had in my life, but the way that Carter's mouth returns to my neck is
what sets me off, and into another orgasm.
A pooling heat in my stomach floods out, burning at my clit and blazing through my whole body, and
it feels like electricity is crackling through me.
My nipples are aching.
I'm writhing all over him and moaning their names.
I stroke and grip Kieran's and Nolan's cocks intensely, bouncing my ass in time with Carter fucking
into it.
"Damn," I cry out, the orgasm so intense I feel like I might go limp.
But we’re not done.
Carter bends me over and Kieran walks toward me. My hands dangle down, and I grab my knees
trying to catch my breath. Carter runs his fingers up my spine and Kieran nods to him.
I have shivers. The way they are communicating, because even though they aren't real brothers they
just get each other, excites me more because I don't know exactly what is coming next.
Kieran lifts my arms up and he carries me over to the bed. He lies down and lowers my pussy onto
his cock. He doesn't let me go all the way in.
Carter grabs my arms back and holds them behind my back, using them as leverage as he starts to
slide into my ass. That's when Kieran sinks his cock further into my pussy.
They are both filling me up so damn much, slowly, tantalizingly full, and I want to scream.
Nolan disappears into the bathroom for a minute and comes back with two washcloths. One he
finishes fisting his cock with, and the second one he wipes my brow with. The chill of the water makes
me gasp, but it feels good.
"Thanks," I say.
 "Thank me with that mouth. I cleaned him off for you, and I know I can blast right down that sexy
mouth while you swallow me," Nolan says with a devilish glint in his eye.
"Mmmm," I moan. I part my lips, panting while Carter holds me down against his cock in my ass and
helps me to bounce against Kieran's cock piping into my pussy.
Carter's mouth is back on my neck, working on my spine, then my neck, and my collarbone.
How can a man's mouth feel so damn good when I have three cocks inside me?
I'm moaning all over Nolan’s cock and he seems to enjoy the sensation.
His cock is already jerking in my mouth. Increasing the suction, I delight in the thought of making him
explode in my mouth so soon.
The orgasms between us are dominoes and that's when Kieran starts groaning and pulls me down
hard on him, spurting even more cum inside my dripping pussy.
Carter's hands close over mine and he holds them to my breasts, making me squeeze them while he
squeezes my hands. His every touch makes me moan and whimper for him.
Nolan finishes coming and pulls out of my mouth. I give him one last good suck and I know he's done
for the night.
Kieran lifts me off his cock and lays me down, my stomach to the bed, while Carter is still holding
onto me. Kieran is covered in a sheen of sweat, and I see him heading toward the bathroom.
Carter presses his whole body atop mine and slams deep into my ass. His lips are on my ear.
"You like getting fucked in every hole, don't you, Stacy?"
"Yes, fuck," I moan. I roll my hips and match Carter's thrusts. I’m so perfectly in love with all three
of my men and the way that me fuck me. I’ve never felt this way before…they complete me.
Carter’s hands wrap around my neck, just enough to make me feel even more aroused and not really
cutting off my air.
"You look so fucking hot getting it in every hole from me and my brothers. But now I'm going to fuck
your ass and really show you. You’re ours now." Carter kisses my cheek. "You belong to us."
Somehow even with all this possessiveness, it seems so tender, and I'm fluttering around him,
another orgasm shooting through me.
"I belong to you all," I whimper while I come.
A puddle circles around my pussy on the bed. There was plenty of cum before, but this is all me
blooming.
I'm coming so hard and so much because these three are the hottest fucking men there are.
Carter’s hands drop down to my hips and he pulls me to him, tighter, pumping harder, and he's
speeding up inside me.
I know that he's tantalizing me.
He's going to come, but Carter is making me come much more before he's done. I'm quaking around
him and my clit is getting pressed just right, the pressure of his movement hitting me so good I could
scream. But I'm panting, sweating, shaking, and moaning his name.
"That's right." Carter growls out, slamming his cock into my ass even harder. I'm screaming out his
name now and I'm shaking. I don't know where one orgasm ends and another begins.
I'm falling apart like shattered glass, every second he fucks me exploding a pleasure more than I ever
knew.
Carter slaps my ass and I'm shaking more, trembling, the sensation all having me so sensitive that I
just keep drenching the bed. I'm coming harder than I ever did.
"Yeah, come for me, Stacy." His hands slap the same spot again and again on my ass and it makes me
blaze with ecstasy, every sensation just heightening my pleasure.
"Make that cock yours. This ass is perfect."
That turns me on even more. I want that cock to be mine. I want to feel every bit of the orgasm I
know he's going to have because he's in my ass fucking me.
God, he makes me so fucking hot. I squeeze around him, moaning with the rippling intensity of
sensation that curls my toes, hoping he's just as addicted to me.
Then, suddenly, I finally feel his cock throbbing hard against my inner walls. Next thing I know he’s
spurting all his load inside of my ass, filling me up to the brim. I feel it dripping out of me, and I remain in
place until he’s finished.
“I fucking love you…all of you,” I manage to say as I crash on top of the mattress.
“I love you too,” they all say in one voice, and then they share a laugh over it. It’s a generous laugh,
easygoing and carefree.
Now that the Percy nightmare is over, we’re finally free to…become happy.
And happiness won’t be hard now—not with these three men by my side.
 Stacy


Life is perfect. I can't help but be happy. How could I not be? I’m free from the wrath of Percy, and I
have total devotion from all three brothers—Carter, Kieran, and Nolan have all been so good to me.
None of them hold me responsible for anything. All of us were targets in the little game of chess
Percy was playing. He lied to cover his ass with every last one of us.
The house is now free from the destruction that followed this man, and even better, all the fences are
mended between the brothers. I know that I’ll do everything I can to make sure it stays this way.
I think Nolan was the one hurt the worst. When Percy held the gambling debt over his head, he
couldn't be himself. It was impossible for trust to exist between the three of them.
To celebrate all the changes that have come about and the amazing future that awaits us, I plan a
dinner for the four of us. It will be a celebration that no one will ever forget.
I spend the day with the kitchen staff going over the perfect menu for this evening. I've decided it
should be something extraordinary. A night we’ll never forget.
The chef suggests a roast turkey with all the trimmings, and for dessert, a peach cobbler. My mouth
waters thinking about it. We have so much to celebrate now.
Dressing for dinner, I choose a black silk dress and heels. Of course, I know that all three of them
will want to rip this off me the moment they see it, but I hope to make it through dinner at least.
I press a button on my phone and say, "Boys, dinner in fifteen minutes. The chef said don't be late.
She's cooked your favorite dinner." The message is delivered to our group text.
When I make my way downstairs,
the table in the dining room is already set. The place settings are adorned with the finest china, the
glasses filled with a vintage wine picked from the massive wine cellar. A small rectangle box sits on each
salad plate. That’s my addition to the meal.
I take a seat at the table before they all arrive. I'm incredibly nervous right now. What if they say I
have to leave? You know, like Barbara did? I’d be devastated, but I know in my heart that will never
happen. Too much has happened between us for me to be forced out of the house.
The first one to enter is Carter. He looks perfect in a black pair of slacks, a white turtleneck, and a
simple pair of black Italian leather shoes.
"Wow, Stacy. You look amazing. I like that smile on your face."
He kisses my cheek before taking the seat next to me.
Next is Kieran. He’s wearing a warm grey suit, the tie a russet red. I can't believe how handsome he
looks tonight.
"Stacy, you went to a lot of trouble tonight. I guess we’ll have to show you how much we appreciate
that later."
 His eyebrows wiggle suggestively as Nolan walks in dressed casually in jeans and a sweater.
"Hey, stop flirting with my girl."
Everyone laughs at this point. We all know that I am all of theirs now.
After Nolan takes a seat, they all notice the boxes on the table. Carter picks up his, shaking it. Nolan
does the same.
"Hey, stop it. You'll spoil the surprise."
All of them look a little confused about the boxes. I’m nervous, but I think I’ll get nothing but
approval from them all.
"So, we all know that I was never married to Percy, and he lied about everything."
Nodding their heads, I can tell they’re being typical boys. The boxes are driving them crazy.
"My father is safe now, and the threat is over. So, I have a little surprise for you all. Well, it's for me
too. How about you open the boxes?"
Chewing my bottom lip, I watch as they rip open the ribbons, pull the lids off, and stop everything.
Each box contained a positive pregnancy test. I found out earlier today that I’m pregnant.
"Whoa, what does this mean?"
"Wait, you're pregnant?"
"Which one of us is the Father?"
All of them speak at once. But I can only answer two of them.
"I am pregnant, but as for the father, I don't know. And I don’t want to know. I adore all of you, and I
feel like we’re all in this together. I want you all to be the father of this child."
I beam with pride as they all jump from their chairs and come over to hug me. One by one, each of
the brothers kiss my lips, hugging the mother of their child.
"We don't want to know either,” Carter says. “We can all live here and raise the child together."
"Wow, I'm going to be a dad. That’s fucking awesome!" Kieran adds.
"This is perfect. We all got the best part of this deal. We got you, Stacy." Nolan gives me a tender
smile.
Emotional tears run down my cheeks. I’m thrilled about this. I've always wanted a child, but now,
it’s even better than I imagined it would be because I’m ensured that my baby will have the best life
possible.
"So, I was thinking. Since Percy’s gone, can I redecorate his room for the baby? It seems logical
since it's the room that’s between us all?"
"Of course. Just tell us what you need, but don't you touch a thing. We will hire someone to come in
and do all the work for you."
"I agree, I don't want you taking any chances with our child inside of you."
"We can still fuck, right? That won't hurt the baby?"
The entire room erupts in laughter as I ensure them the child will be just fine.
 After a fantastic meal, the four of us end up in what will soon become the playroom.
Tossing the picture of Percy off the wall, his office is now the place that we’ll share all our dirty
little secrets. Though now, there’s nothing dirty about it.
We aren’t hiding anymore. We get to live our lives together and raise our child. That’s a better life
than I ever could have imagined. And it’s my life now.
 Wanted: Big Bad Brother




By Natalie Knight & Vivien Vale


Copyright 2018 by Crimson Vixens
All rights reserved



This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.
This work intended for adults only.



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and more!
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 Keagan


The more I drink, the looser I feel. My life is as fucking stressful as it is comfortable.
Letting loose occasionally, especially somewhere I won’t be photographed, has been a long time
coming. Far Bar in Los Angeles is full, and we are surrounded by friends. Mason stands next to me,
sipping his beer and leaning his arm on the bar. The other guys are all hunting for girls in the crowd that
they can take home.
I’m only interested in one of them.
I glance across the room. Dana is with her friends a little further down the bar. They’re smiling and
talking about the talent available. It isn’t hard to see who’s thirsty around here. The girls are all dressed to
kill, and they’ll all land their prey before the night is out.
My eyes are on Dana. We’re close, but you that one girl that you just can’t fucking have?
Yeah. That’s Dana. My stepsister, the ultimate “one who got away.”
She wasn’t always my stepsister, of course. There was a time when she was the pretty girl at
school that I crushed on. The one I wanted to ask to the seventh grade dance. She was the one whose mom
had run into my dad at an unfortunate parent evening and decided to get engaged, just before I got around
to telling her how I felt.
And now she’s my fucking sister.
Go figure.
She looks like sex on a stick. I watched her grow from a girl to a woman at the same time my own
hormones developed. There’s nothing as awesome as having your jerk-off material live in the room next
to yours.
Or knowing she’s in the fucking shower, totally fucking naked. Or even worse, as we got older,
hearing her moans right through the fucking wall as she did God knows what all alone in her bed. I mean, I
knew exactly what she was doing, and it served as the ideal fantasy for my spank bank.
Now it just grates the hell out of me that I will never be able to fuck her the way I always did in my
fantasies—correction, still do.
But we’re siblings. Sort of. Stupid fucking taboo.
“Hello,” Mason calls in a sing-song voice, bringing my attention back to him. “Are you even
listening to what I’m saying, or are you too busy bird watching?”
“Sorry,” I say, grinning at him. “What were you saying?”
“I’m saying Sociable’s infrastructure needs a serious upgrade if we want to move forward with the
influx of users.”
I shake my head and sip my beer. I haven’t had enough alcohol yet. I’m still fucking aching for
Dana, my cock rock fucking hard.
 Too drunk to stop myself from wanting her, too sober to stop thinking about it, especially when
she’s laughing and tossing her hair, talking to some motherfucker who will never be good enough for her.
“Can we not talk about work tonight?”
Mason shrugs. “I can’t help it, man. It’s because of you I have this job at all.”
“You know what?” I say, nodding. “You’re right, and you know what you’re talking about. I
wouldn’t have suggested you as a candidate for the IT department interviews if I didn’t think you were
worth it. But I’m sick of hearing about Sociable.”
Mason shakes his head, chuckling into the beer bottle he lifts to his lips, taking a sip.
“Well, it’s going to be hard getting away from it, since you created it.”
I shrug and take another sip of my drink. I created a new social media platform, and it blew up. I’m
almost as fucking huge as Facebook and Twitter, and I landed my ass in butter almost overnight.
I didn’t expect it to take off like that. I worked on a concept, and the right people saw the idea.
My friends refer to me as the Master because where they’re all scrambling, I have it made. If I only
fucking had Dana, I would consider that the truth.
Sociable is a big company now, with different divisions, a turnover that’s growing exponentially as
the rest of the world is getting on board, and I have an IT team that works feverishly to stay ahead of the
technological curve.
Mason’s on that team.
I glance over at Dana again. Something about her is different tonight. She arrived after I had a few
drinks down, and she blew me away. She’s wearing a low-cut top that shows off just enough of that
fucking perfect cleavage without looking slutty, and her eyes are made up with smoky eyeshadow that
makes her blue irises pop.
Fuck. She’s wearing a sexy short skirt. Easy access. I like that. My cock strains against my zipper,
begging to come out and play with my sexy as sin stepsister.
Her hair. That’s what’s different. Her brown hair is cut in a shoulder-length bob now. Before, it
hung over her shoulders. The new cut frames her face and brings out her freckles. Freckles that she never
covers with makeup. It was what I fell for when I saw her for the first time in the fifth grade.
Besides her curves and her tits that make a man sit up and beg, her freckles are one of my favorite
features.
She glances at me. Our eyes meet, and she smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I smile back. But I
can tell something’s wrong.
I have to ask her what’s up. We’ve always been close, just not in the way I want to be. We’re only a
year apart, and we shared friends our whole life. I wish it was just the two of us, here right now, though. I
want to be alone with her.
I imagine leading her to the restrooms, locking the door behind us and pinning her against the wall.
I would hike up one leg, shove her lacy thong aside, and ram my cock into her so hard, making her scream
my name. Hearing my name on her lips would push me over the edge in a second.
I want to fuck her so fucking bad. I’ve always wanted to fuck her.
I shift, adjusting my cock in my pants. It would be poor form to stand in the bar with a visible hard-
on, but I can’t fucking help it. One look at her is all it ever takes.
It’s so fucking unfair that I can’t have her. The only girl I want. Forbidden fruit and all that shit.
“So, who will it be tonight?” Mason asks.
“What?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Mason says. He nods toward the girls. “I
can see you ogling. Which one do you want to take home tonight?”
Dana.
Of fucking course it’s Dana. But I can’t say that. Instead, I shrug.
“I don’t know, man. I don’t think I’m going to make a move tonight. I just want to relax.”
“Sure,” Mason says with a laugh, not believing me. I sigh but he keeps pushing. “You should go and
talk to them. You know Dana’s friends all want a piece of you now that you’re famous and shit. And
you’ve been single for far too long. It will be too fucking easy to get into any of their pants. They’re
probably all fucking wet for you right now.”
He’s right. It would be easy. But it’s not their pants I want to get into. And I don’t like him referring,
however subtly, to my ex, Lisa. We dated for three years in college, and she damn near ripped my heart to
fucking pieces in the process.
“You better make a move fast,” Mason says. “It looks like someone else is moving in for the kill.”
I look at the girls again. Mason is right. A guy with black hair and an attitude walks up to them.
He’s smiling ear to ear, and he’s got the Latino thing going for him with a shirt that’s unbuttoned way too
fucking low. The chest that’s showing is smooth.
“What a prick,” I say.
“A prick that’s getting what he wants,” Masons says.
I watch him introduce himself to the girls, and they’re practically swooning.
“What do you wanna bet he has an accent?” Mason asks.
I don’t respond. Mr. Perfect is smiling at Dana, his teeth too fucking white to be natural. She’s
smiling back at him in a way that shows her dimples. She only smiles like that when she’s flirting.
Fuck.
I’m jealous right away. He’s not the right guy for her. None of them fucking are. I want her, and if I
can’t have her, fuck everyone else.
I’m being an asshole. I know that. But I don’t care. I’ve had too much to drink, and I don’t want
anyone that fucking close to her.
The other girls? Sure, he can have them. What the fuck ever.
But Dana? Fuck no.
 She’s mine.
I watch while he flirts with her. He turns his back on the others, leans on the bar, and shows off his
chiseled chest. Just because he’s showing it off doesn’t mean there aren’t other people here with better
bodies.
Like me. I can show Dana what a real man looks like.
And I have fucking chest hair. I’m not a naked mole rat.
If I’m being unfair, I don’t fucking care.
Dana is smiling and laughing when he speaks. Christ. He can’t be that funny. Not unless she’s
laughing at him because he’s failing. I’d fucking love that.
But judging by the dimples in her cheeks, that’s not the case.
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a business card, and I down the last of my drink. My head
spins a little with the rush of alcohol, and a jealous rage ignites in my chest. I want to do something
violent. Instead, I watch him walk away with her fucking card.
“Someone should take him into a dark alley and strip him of that business card,” I say.
Mason raises his eyebrows at me. “A little too protective, aren’t you?”
I shrug. Dana’s face has fallen. The dimples are gone, and she’s not even smiling now. She’s
nodding at what one of the others are saying but she looks totally bummed out.
“I’ll be right back,” I say and walk over to her without another glance at Mason. When I get closer
to her, I swallow.
“Are you okay?” I ask, putting my hand on her shoulder.
She looks up at me, and her eyes are fucking brilliant. “I’m fine,” she says, flashing me a smile that
seems forced.
“What’s wrong?” I ask anyway.
She shakes her head. “Nothing, Keagan. Really. It’s fine.”
I look at her for long enough that she gets irritated. She shakes her head at me and shrugs my hand
off her shoulder.
“Really, go back to your friends.”
Right. She doesn’t want me to crowd her.
“I’m just asking,” I say, my nerves on fucking edge. “You don’t have to be a bitch about it.”
She rolls her eyes, irritated. When she gets upset, she does this thing with her bottom lip that looks
like a pissed off pout. It makes me want to bite it. To kiss her, rough and hard. It makes me want to do so
many fucking dirty things to her.
Every fucking time.
I force myself to turn around and walk back to Mason instead.
He’s watching me with a lopsided grin on his face. “Do you want to tell me what that was all
about?”
 “What?” I ask, waving at the bartender for another beer.
“You being jealous when someone hits on Dana? I fucking saw that.”
I shake my head and put money on the bar when the bottle arrives. I suck down a couple of gulps
before I come up for air. I want to get wasted. If I can’t get her in bed, I don’t want to remember the rest of
my night.
“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s my sister.”
“Stepsister. Which doesn’t count. And she’s fucking hot.”
I glare at Mason, but I say nothing.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Doing her? A piece like that, right under your nose?”
“Shut the fuck up, Mason,” I growl.
Mason laughs. “I knew it, you dirty bastard. You have a thing for her, don’t you?”
I shake my head, but I know he’s onto me. I become transparent when I drink, and Mason has known
me since college.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” he asks.
“What I always do about it. Jack off to the idea of her body and leave it at that. Come on, man.
What the fuck am I supposed to do?”
Mason shrugs. “How about you fuck her? You can, you know. You’re not kids anymore, and it’s not
like you’re related, technically. It’s just in theory.”
“Fuck off with your theory. It’s not like she wants me, anyway. She doesn’t see me like that.”
“Have you asked her?”
Of course I haven’t. I don’t know how I’m supposed to broach that topic with her. What the fuck am
I supposed to say?
“Just drop it, okay?” I say and down more of my beer.
Mason laughs, shaking his head. “You’re old enough and established enough to do whatever the
fuck you want. You’re twenty-nine. You’re both consenting adults, and there’s no law against.”
I keep shaking my head until he stops fucking talking. The thought of her naked and writhing against
the bathroom wall is branded in my frontal lobe again, and I don’t think I’ll be able to shake it. Not when
Mason keeps going on about it.
“Drop it, okay?” I repeat.
Mason shrugs. “I’m just saying.”
But he does drop it, and I’m fucking relieved. It’s bad enough that my fantasies are the only things
that make my lust for Dana bearable. I don’t need someone like fucking Mason egging me on to do
something I might never be able to do. I don’t need his voice in my ear.
I already have a little devil on my shoulder, urging me to misbehave. And he’s getting louder by the
minute.
Fucking hell.
But I have to resist. I do. Right?
 Dana


“What are you doing here?” my mom asks when I walk into her studio on Monday morning. “Don’t
you have to be at work?”
Her hair is fiery red this time. She changes it every other month. She wears tights and a loose dress.
She’s paired it with bohemian jewelry, and instead of looking like a hippy, she looks eccentric and
elegant.
I shake my head. “Jen sent me out to run errands. I decided to take a detour.”
My mom smiles at me. “Coffee, then,” she says and walks to the small kitchen they installed in the
back to put on the pot.
I sit down in one of the waiting chairs at the front of the studio. I feel guilty about the lie, but I can’t
bear to tell her the truth. Everyone knows choosing creativity above a solid degree in business or science
makes it harder to succeed. My mom and stepdad started an art studio, and they’re successful. I chose to
be an interior designer, and I’m not successful at all.
In fact, I don’t have a job to take a detour from. It’s been nearly a month, and none of my searches
have come to fruition, either. I’m here because I’m starting to get desperate. Stress is gnawing away at my
insides.
“Where’s Chris?” I ask when my mom joins me in the waiting area. The sun shines through the large
windows, and it feels the same way it always feels at home, calm and peaceful.
“He’s at a meeting with a prospective artist,” my mom says. “I think we’re going to get this one.”
She smiles.
Chris is a good man, and he supports my mom no matter what, even though he’s less creative and
less eccentric than she is.
I can’t imagine what it must be like to work with your soulmate every day. I can’t imagine what it
must be like to have a soulmate, period. At twenty-eight, I’m still young enough to find one. I keep telling
myself that and ignore the hollow feeling that opens in my chest when I think about a forever kind of love.
I smile back. “That’s great, Mom. You guys have really built this place up.”
My mom looks around the studio and nods. She and Chris started the studio after Keagan and I
finished our studies and moved out. Until then, they’d both worked dead-end nine-to-fives that drained
them of all life to put us through school and college. Now that we’re on our own, they were able to take
the risk, and it paid off.
Chris is my stepdad, and he’s a great guy. He’s the only dad I’ve ever known. Mine took off before
I can remember. Chris brought Keagan with him. The two of them changed our lives for the better. My
mom was happy, and Keagan and I knew each other from school.
It wasn’t always easy to live together. At first, we were strangers thrown into a boat called family,
but we made it work. We’re so close now, some of my friends with siblings are jealous.
Once upon a time, he was the popular guy at school that my friends urged me to date. When he
became my brother, things changed. I mean, you can’t date your brother. Even if, back then, I might have
wanted to.
Now he’s a pain in my ass like any big brother, even if we’re practically the same age.
I glance at my watch. My stomach turns with stress, twisting into a knot of nerves. I don’t think the
people from the last interview I went to are going to call me back. They’ve all been dead ends. My
landlord is on my case about rent. If I don’t fork it out soon, I don’t know where I’ll go.
“What’s wrong, honey?” my mom asks. Her eyes are on my face, and she looks concerned.
I shake my head. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
I look out of the large windows. The street is quiet in the Art District. I don’t want to burden her
with my problems. Even though the studio is doing well and my mom and Chris are happy together, they
have just enough for the two of them. I don’t want my mom to feel like she needs support me again. And
she would, because she’s my mother.
“You know you can talk to me, sweetheart,” she says. “What’s going on?”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I put my hands on my knees and try to pull myself together.
It’s hard to keep things from my mom. She’s always been my best friend. It stems from a time when all we
had was each other.
“I’m not really here because Jen sent me,” I say, carefully, knowing that I don’t really have a
choice. She’s going to keep asking until I tell her.
Mom waits for me to say what I need to say. Her hands are folded in her lap. She’s the epitome of
patience.
“I lost my job.”
She doesn’t freak out. She only raises her eyebrows.
“A month ago,” I add.
My mom shakes her head. “Honey, why didn’t you say anything? A whole month. What happened?”
I shrug. “Jen says that I don’t have the right ‘energy’.” I make sarcastic quotation marks with my
fingers in the air, and my mom rolls her eyes.
“That’s just a hippy way of saying she’s intimidated by you. I told you, you’re so much better than
she is.”
I nod. “Yeah. The problem is that there’s a very small demand for interior designers in LA.
Apparently, the market is pretty saturated, and I can’t find another job.”
“So, start your own company!” my mom says and smiles at me. “You have your mother’s business
mind. I know you can do it.”
Thanks, Mom,” I say. I know she believes in me. “It’s a great idea. It just won’t happen fast enough
for me to pay my bills.”
 I swallow, trying to get rid of the nerves that have become a constant fist in my stomach.
“How much do you need?” my mom asks.
I shake my head. “I’m not here to ask for money. I was just feeling lost. Really, I need a lot more
than you can afford to give me, and I really don’t expect anything.”
My mom looks concerned again, and the words tumble out.
“If I don’t come up with my rent by tonight, I have to move out.” A lump rises in my throat. “I don’t
know where to go.”
I didn’t want to cry in front of my mom. Not because she would mind it, but because I’d told myself
I would be strong. Tears well up in my eyes anyway. I’m angry at myself for buckling.
“Sweetie, don’t cry,” my mom says, leaning over and squeezing my hand. “It’s going to be fine.
Everyone has dips. Remember how bad things were for the two of us just before we met Chris? And look
how good things are now. You just keep the faith.”
I nodded, sniffling. Faith. It’s easy to talk about faith when things were going well. Not so much
when times are desperate.
“Why don’t you call Keagan?” my mom asks. “You know he’ll help you.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do that. I don’t think he’ll like me invading his space. You know what he
can be like.”
My mom laughs. “He’s not that bad. Sure, he’s full of shit sometimes, but he’s just like Chris. And
it’s more than lovable.” She smiles at me. “Give him a call. You know he adores you. He’ll be more than
happy to help. You two have always had a special bond.”
I nod. “I was a bitch to him on Saturday,” I say.
I feel bad. I was rude to him when he kept asking me what was wrong. I didn’t want to tell him why
I was in a bad mood. Julie, one of my friends, was already paying for my alcohol because I had no money.
It’s hard for me to accept cash from others.
“So, apologize,” my mom says. She’s got answers for everything. Like it’s just that fucking easy.
“Don’t let your pride get in the way. We can’t always be strong all by ourselves.”
That’s easier said than done, and my mom knows it. She’s as stubborn as I am, although she’s not as
independent.
“Keagan’s life is just so put together,” I say. “Especially with the company, now. I don’t know how
to call him and tell him my life has fallen apart.”
My mom shakes her head. “He’s not going to turn you down. Trust me.”
“What makes you so sure?” I ask.
She smiles at me, and I don’t like her expression when she does. Her smile is secretive, and I hate
it when she gets like that.
“Just a hunch, honey. Call him. You don’t have other options, anyway. And he’ll help you. I’m not
saying you should mooch off of him. Just stay with him until you get back on your feet. Some bonding time
might do you good, anyway.”
She smiles at me again. I shake my head. Stay with him? I don’t want to call him and admit defeat,
much less stay with him. That opens up a whole other can of worms.
It’s hard to admit I’m not doing so great when he’s so damn successful. But my mom is right. I don’t
have much of a choice anymore. I don’t have anyone else I can turn to.
When I leave the studio, I get in my car and dial Keagan’s number. It plays over the car’s stereo so I
can talk while I drive. The phone rings for a while. I expect the call to roll over to voicemail, but then he
answers.
“Johnson.”
“You sound so professional over the phone,” I say.
“Dana,” he says, and his voice is immediately warmer. “What a surprise. How are you doing?”
I swallow. I can’t do this over the phone.
“Fine. I was wondering. Are you free tonight?”
“Why?” he asks without giving me an answer.
“Do you want to go out to dinner? Catch up? We haven’t really spent time together in a while.”
I hear him turning pages. He’s checking his schedule to see if he can fit me in.
“You can’t be that busy,” I point out.
“Says who?”
He’s teasing me. I can hear the smile in his voice. He’s always teasing me, getting on my damn
nerves.
“You haven’t said no yet,” I point out.
Keagan chuckles.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you tonight. Where are we going?”
“We can go to Far Bar again,” I say. “It’s casual, and the food is good.”
“No,” Keagan says immediately. “Let’s do something nicer. I don’t want to spend my life in a bar.
Meet me at Bestia.”
“The Italian place?”
“That’s the one.”
I drive when the light turns green.
I hear more page flipping. “I have a meeting with some technicians after work, but I’ll meet you
once it’s finished. Let’s say seven? I should be done by then.”
“Sure,” I say. “I’ll see you later.”
I hang up and let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The call went better than expected. At
least he’s willing to see me.
I don’t know how I’m going to ask him for help, but I’m going to have to do something. Desperate
times, desperate measures and all that.
 Honestly, I just want to be able to relax for a change and not worry about the future.
But relaxing around Keagan is easier said than done, for reasons I don’t even want to admit to
myself.
 Keagan


I manage to get home before I need to head over to the restaurant. The meeting with the technicians
threatened to take forever. That brainy bunch has all the time in the world. Night-time is their favorite, and
they could go on arguing algorithms until fucking dawn.
I wanted to get home to get ready for my date with Dana.
Dinner, I remind myself. A catch-up session. Not a goddamn date.
I jump into the shower. I soap up my body and my hands slide over my cock. I’m already rock-hard.
I palm myself and slide my hand up and down my throbbing shaft a few times, but I let it go. There’s no
time.
I rinse, get out, and dry off before I pull fresh clothes from my closet. Black jeans, an aqua shirt,
black shoes, and the chain around my neck she bought me for Christmas. I finger comb my wet hair to the
side and let it dry by itself. I run a razor over my chin, pat on aftershave that stings like a motherfucker,
and leave my apartment again.
The drive to Bestia from my apartment at South Park by Windsor is quick, and I pull into a parking
spot just after seven. I’m only a couple of minutes late. I’m nervous. I’ve grown up with this girl, and she
still gets me tongue-tied and hot and bothered without doing anything at all.
When I walk up to the front door, a flash goes off in my face. Then another, and another, and I sigh.
Fuck.
They fucking follow me around sometimes. I smile and pose for a photo or two. This is my life
now, famous and frustrating whether I ask for it or not. When I’ve done my part, I walk into the restaurant
where the paparazzi isn’t allowed to follow. Thank God.
The restaurant has an industrial vibe, but it’s a cozy place. When I walk in, I see Dana sitting at a
table already. I tell the hostess I’m meeting someone and walk straight to her. I only have a second to
study her before she looks up and sees me, and she’s fucking breath-taking. As always.
She gets up, smiling. She’s wearing a dress that hugs her curves in all the right ways. It catches her
leg mid-thigh. Her legs are long and tan. I want so badly for her to wrap them around my hips. Heels made
her ass look fucking fantastic. I can’t see it now because she’s facing me, but I’ve looked at her ass
enough times in my life to know this for a fact.
When she hugs me, I smell her perfume, subtle, floral. I breathe in deeply, and it drives me fucking
crazy. Her tits push against my chest, and I’m hyper aware of them. When she sits down, her dress gapes
just enough to show me the swells of her perfect tits.
I swallow hard. My cock is straining in my pants, pulling against my boxer briefs, begging to be let
loose. I don’t want her to see how crazy she makes me, so I crash down onto the chair so my hips are
below the table.
 Dana laughs. The sound of her voice is like velvet on my skin. My cock twitches like she’s
wrapped that sexy mouth around it.
“How are you doing?” I ask. I need conversation to distract me.
She shrugs. “I’m alright. I’ve had a rough month. How about you? I see they’re hounding you again
outside.”
I nod. “They’re always like that. I hardly ever get a break.”
The waiter joins us, and I glance up at him.
“What will it be?” he asks. He’s speaking to Dana, smiling. Guys always respond well to her. I
don’t fucking blame them, but it still irritates the hell out of me. After we order something to drink, the
waiter disappears again.
“I’m sorry about the other night,” Dana says. “I was rude.”
I shake my head. “Don’t apologize.”
“No, I want to. It was unnecessary. You’re always just looking out for me.”
I shrug. “You know I care.”
She nods. She fiddles with her fork. My eyes slide to her tits again. When she sighs, her chest
heaves, moving up and down, and I swallow hard.
I look at her face when she looks up at me, so I’m not caught staring. She looks nervous, unsure.
Why did she ask me out to dinner? I have a feeling there’s more to it than just catching up.
“How’s work going?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I don’t really get along with Jen.”
I nod. I’ve heard from Susan, my stepmom, that Dana has been having it hard at work for a while
now.
“She’s intimidated,” I say.
Dana laughs. “Mom also said that.”
“She’s right. You’re tough to compete with. You always have been.”
She smiles and her dimples show. She tips her head to the side and runs her hand down her neck.
It’s a normal gesture. I follow her hand with my eyes. I imagine her skin to be soft and delicate. I want to
kiss it. Lick it. Bite it.
“And you?” she asks. I look at her again. “How’s work going for you?” She’s oblivious to my
thoughts.
I shift in my chair, tugging at my buckle.
I shrug. “It’s going well. We’re expanding. Again. We can’t keep up with the number of users
signing on.”
“You’re doing very well. Sociable is a hit. I don’t have any friends that aren’t already on it.”
“Well, it pays the bills,” I say dryly.
Dana laughs. I want her to keep doing that. I fucking love it when she’s laughing, when it goes all
the way up to her eyes. She hooks her hair behind her ear. She’s wearing long earrings that make her
movements seem more graceful.
The waiter finally brings our drinks. I’ve asked for a soda. I don’t want to lose control tonight and
say something stupid. Dana ordered alcohol. She seems nervous, and I can’t figure out why. When we
order food and the waiter disappears again, I take a sip of my soda.
“Your hair looks great like that,” I say.
Dana smiles, touching her head lightly. “You noticed.”
“Of course. It suits you.”
Her dimples appear again.
We spend the night speaking about trivial things. We eat pasta, we laugh, and everything is the way
it always is, light and pointless. But now, I want to know what’s bothering her.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Or are you just going to keep pretending everything is
fine?”
She glances up at me. Her face is serious again, her lips slightly parted. Full lips. Delicious lips.
Lips I want wrapped around my cock.
“I forget how well you know me,” she says.
I shrug.
She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly.
“Well, you asked how work is going. The answer, to be honest, is terrible. I got fired.”
I widen my eyes. “What the hell, Dana?”
She nods, looking down at her nearly empty plate. “It’s been a few weeks now, actually. I didn’t
want to say anything.”
“Why the fuck not?” I frown at her.
She shrugs. “Because everyone is doing so well. You’ve got Sociable, and Mom and Chris have the
studio, and my friends are all successful now. I didn’t want to be the only one that’s failing. I’ve been
looking for a job but nothing has gone through yet, and I’m in trouble now.”
I reach across the table and put my hand on hers. It’s warm and soft. She glances up at me.
“Tell me how I can help,” I say and let my fingers linger on her skin only a moment longer before I
pull my hand back. Before I let my mind drift to other places I want to touch her.
She looks like she might cry. She swallows hard, not meeting my eyes. “I’m getting evicted now. If
you could just help me out with a bit of cash, so I can find a place to stay while I sort this out, it would be
a huge help. I really hate asking.”
I shake my head. “You can always ask me. I’ll do you one better, though. Why don’t you come to
stay with me for a while? You don’t have to worry about cash then, and you can find a new job without all
the pressure of needing to survive.”
The words are out of my mouth before I can think better of them.
 Dana blinks at me. “I won’t impose?”
I chuckle. “We grew up together, remember? It will be like the good old days.”
Fuck, what am I thinking? The good old days? When all I did was jerk off to thoughts of her. Jesus,
it’s not like much has changed there, though.
She swallows again.
“I have enough money to cover your expenses for a while, and I won’t see you end up on the
streets,” I say, apparently rolling with this fucking terrible idea.
Finally, she nods.
“Thank you,” she says in a thin voice. “I hate that all this is happening.”
Dana has always been independent and proud. She doesn’t like taking help from others, and she’ll
never ask for it.
So even though I know this can’t be a good idea, I’m still glad she’s agreeing to come stay with me.
I want to help her any way I can.
Having her in my house would be amazing.
Although, seeing her again every day might make it hard. No pun intended. And no might about it.
She’ll be around all the time, and I’m already struggling to contain myself as it is. What am I doing
here?
But I don’t want to fucking turn her down, and if I have to be sexually frustrated for a while just to
have her with me, just to take care of her like I have this burning need to do, then so be it.
“When do you need to be out?” I ask.
She looks down and bites her lip. “Two days from now. I left it until the last second, I know. I
hoped something would come through by now.”
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take the day off tomorrow, and we’ll go to your place
and sort it out. Okay?”
Dana nods and looks up at me, something shining in her eyes that I don’t quite recognize.
“Thank you, Keagan. It means a lot.”
“Of course,” I say. “I already said it, but I’ll say it again. You know I care.”
When the evening comes to an end, I pay for the bill. She protests, but I don’t let her fight me on it.
We get up and she steps toward me. She looks up at me. She’s almost a full head shorter than me, but with
her heels on—fuck, they’re sexy—she can almost look me straight in the eye.
“Thanks, Keagan,” she says again, and she wraps her arms around me in a hug.
I don’t hesitate to hold onto her. Her body is lithe and petite in my arms. Her tits, her hips, I feel
them all. My body responds, and I feel my cock straining in my pants yet again. I let go of her, pushing her
gently away so she won’t feel how I’m about to rip right through my pants and give her a full-on salute.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I say. “Go home and relax. We’ve got this covered.”
She nods, still looking at me. My gaze lingers on her lips for a second before I turn toward the
door.
“Better not walk out with me if you don’t want to be swarmed with paparazzi,” I say, grimacing.
She leaves first, and I wait a while before I leave, too. There are only one or two cameras outside
when I walk through the door, but it’s enough for the world to know whether I left the restaurant alone or
not.
While I drive home, I think about Dana. Her pride gets in the way sometimes, but there’s something
to be said for her strength. It’s fucking sexy.
She’s always been independent, and there’s nothing more attractive in a woman than the ability to
fend for herself. And she’s going to be in my apartment for a while.
The thought makes me horny as fuck. I’ve been biting down on my lust all evening. When I get
home, I climb out of my clothes and get in bed, naked. My cock strains against the sheets, and I move,
letting the friction work me up. I slide my hand over my abs and palm my throbbing cock.
Fuck, I want her. I close my eyes and picture her, trying to imagine what she might look like naked. I
want every inch of her, and I want her to beg me to take it.
My hand pumps up and down, and I try to imagine that it’s her body wrapped around my cock, her
hot, wet pussy, and not my own fingers.
When I come, it’s drawn out and fucking intense and I groan. I twitch and jerk in my hand, hot cum
shooting out of my cock as I groan her name.
But when it’s over, I’m not nearly as satisfied as I want to be. And I wonder if having her in my
house is going to be the best thing that’s ever happened to me, or the worst mistake I’ve ever made.
 Dana


I can’t believe I had to ask Keagan for help. I’m relieved that he agreed. Last night, he kept telling
me that he cared. It’s good to know that I have somewhere I can go, even if it was hard to ask. I hate
asking for help, but sometimes, things slip out of my control.
I’m dressed and ready to go at seven in the morning. When I came back after dinner last night, I
didn’t go right to bed, even though I was exhausted. I packed up everything I could in the few boxes and
bags I had. I don’t want Keagan to come here and see my life turned inside out, the way it feels.
I want to have something ready for him, at least.
Now, while I wait, I’m wrapping glasses and mugs in newspaper. I don’t have boxes to put them in,
but at least, this will be half the work done.
When my doorbell rings, Keagan stands in front of me, bright and fresh. His blond hair is damp,
like he just stepped out of the shower. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, moving clothes, but he still looks
put together.
“Morning,” he says cheerfully. Behind him, four men are getting out of a truck in the road. They
unload collapsed cardboard boxes.
“You brought company?” I ask.
Keagan nods. “Yeah, they’re here to help. I figured you needed a few people to get through it
quickly. I brought boxes, too.”
I swallow hard. He’s being so nice to me. Everything is overwhelming.
My mom was right. Keagan was a good person to turn to, and apparently, he will do a lot for me.
Keagan steps inside and puts his hand on my shoulder. His hand is large and warm. When he looks at me,
his blue eyes are piercing.
“Where would you like us to start?” he asks.
I lead Keagan to the kitchen and show him what I’ve done so far.
“Wrapping them was a great idea,” he says. He calls the guys inside. They tape up a cardboard box
and start packing.
“It’s big of you to hire a team,” I say. It will go so much quicker with these guys jumping in as well.
Keagan nods. “Let’s leave them to it here and sort out your office. What do you say?”
I follow him to my office. I haven’t touched it. My shelf is full of books, my desk has folders all
over it, and I have boxes full of swatches and fabric samples. Keagan stands with his hands on his hips,
looking around.
I don’t know what living with Keagan again will be like. It’s easily been ten years since we’ve
lived together in the same place. I’ve gotten used to having my own space and doing my own thing. It will
be strange falling into someone else’s routine again, and abiding by someone else’s rules.
 We were always close, so I don’t think it will be a problem. When he first moved in so many years
ago, being in the same house as the boy I had a crush on was hard. It was even harder that I wasn’t
allowed to like him anymore. Somehow, we’d gotten over liking each other and fell into a comfortable
rhythm.
Sometimes, out of nowhere, I still see Keagan as the guy I crushed on and not the one that became
my brother. Not that it matters. I doubt he feels the same about me. Don’t guys get over their crushes
easily? I’m the only one holding onto something that never got a chance to exist.
Keagan walks out of the room again, and his scent stays behind. It smells like soap, clean and fresh,
and I breathe in deeply. He returns with two collapsed boxes and tape. He tapes up the boxes and puts
them down in the middle of the floor.
“How about you start with those files,” he says, pointing to my portfolios. “I’ll handle the books?”
I nod. It’s difficult having people rummage through my things. I feel like they’re pulling me apart,
seeing every side of me that I can choose to hide under normal circumstances. With Keagan, I don’t mind
it so much, but the other guys make me feel uncomfortable.
The day goes by quickly. We barely break for lunch. It’s easier to keep working while we’re eating.
Bit by bit, my house is packed up. I don’t have a lot of things, and that’s the only reason it’s possible to
nearly pack up everything in one day.
By five o’clock the men all leave. Boxes are stacked in the corners of every room, and my place
has been cleaned, for the most part. All my furniture has already been loaded and taken to Keagan’s
warehouse, where he has extra space for me.
“We’ll finish tomorrow,” Keagan says. “They’re coming back, and we’ll get the boxes to storage as
well.
I shake my head. “You’re doing all of this for me, and I can’t even repay you,” I say.
Keagan shakes his head and nudges me with his elbow. “Don’t sweat it. We’ll get this fixed in no
time.”
I’m emotional. It’s hard losing my home and having strangers pack it up for me. It’s better than
being kicked out on the street, though, and I have Keagan to thank for that.
“I’m going to run out and get us dinner,” Keagan says. “Why don’t you take a box and pack up the
things in your bedroom you don’t need?”
I nod. He smiles at me and walks through the door, disappearing into the dusk that’s falling outside.
I walk to my room and do as he asks.
I’ve finished two boxes by the time he comes back. I smell Chinese all the way from the kitchen.
When I join Keagan, he’s unpacking sweet and sour pork and fried noodles. He’s also bought wine.
“Oh, God, this is the best idea you’ve had all day,” I say, picking up the bottle of wine.
Keagan grins at me. “I thought so.”
He hands me my container of food, and we walk to the living room. He pushes the coffee table out
of the way, and we sit down on the carpet, spreading out our food. I found two wine glasses in one of the
boxes and Keagan pours wine for both of us.
The food is fantastic, and the wine is just what I needed. Slowly, I feel the tension bleed out of my
shoulders. My body becomes light, and I feel good for the first time in days. Keagan sits next to me. We
lean our backs against the couch.
“Can you believe this is where I ended up?” I say. “When we were younger, I had such big dreams.
Look at me, now. On the verge of eviction. Broke.”
Keagan shakes his head. “You’ve always been on top of things. It’s just a bad month. Not a bad
life.”
I grin at him. “You sound like a fortune cookie.”
Keagan shrugs. “Even in school, you were good at everything. It’s one of the first thing’s I noticed
about you. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Really?” I ask. “That’s what you noticed about me?”
“Well, among other things.” He’s studying the wine in his glass intently.
“Like what?”
Keagan glances at me. “Are you kidding me? You were the hottest girl in school. Not much has
changed, by the way.”
I blink at him. He looks at me with serious eyes. His pupils are dilated, and something twists in my
stomach.
“You can’t mean that,” I say.
“Why not? I know what I like. I know a ten when I see one.”
I blush violently. “You can’t tell me that,” I say.
“But it’s true.”
He leans against me so that our arms touch. His skin is hot through the sleeves of my shirt. His scent
is in my nose. Maybe it’s the wine, his help in my time of need, or the fact that I’m at rock bottom, but I get
turned on. I swallow hard. Heat flushes through my body and pools between my legs.
Keagan’s eyes are still on mine. He lifts his hand and brushes his knuckles against my cheek.
Electricity runs from his skin to mine. The atmosphere is charged, and I know what he wants before his
eyes slide to my lips. This is wrong. I can’t do this. Except, this is what I want. What I’ve wanted for a
long time. I’ve denied it because it’s not supposed to be this way.
When Keagan leans toward me, I know I should pull away. I’m frozen in place, and I watch him
close the distance between us. His fingers rest against my cheek, and his lips touch mine a moment later.
My breath hitches in my throat. He kisses me, carefully, allowing me to pull away if that’s what I
want.
I don’t. When I don’t move, he kisses me with more confidence. And he knows exactly what he’s
doing. His tongue runs along my bottom lip, and without thinking about it, I open my mouth. He slides his
tongue into my mouth, soft and hot, and tastes me. I’ve never been kissed like this, and my body is
practically vibrating.
I break the kiss.
“What are you doing?” I ask. I’m out of breath.
Keagan doesn’t look as flustered as I am. His pupils are dilated, lips parted.
“Kissing you,” he whispers, sending shivers down my spine in the most delicious way.
I don’t know what to say to that. Keagan leans into me again. His lips touch mine, and this time, I
don’t hesitate. Somewhere at the back of my mind, a little voice tells me I’m doing something I probably
shouldn’t, but the way he’s kissing me sets my body on fire. I’m melting in my panties. I’m getting wetter
—so much fucking wetter—hotter, and the wine in my system pushes all the worries out of my mind.
All I can think about is him. He fills my sense, leaving room for nothing else.
I lift my hand and push my fingers into Keagan’s hair. He groans into my mouth. His hand slips
down my neck, his fingers fluttering over my skin. He thumbs my collarbone, and then his hand is on my
chest, sliding to my breast.
Oh, God.
I feel like I might spontaneously combust. I’m hot and wet and ready, and my body screams for
more. Keagan hasn’t even touched me yet.
My breasts tingle, and my nipples tighten with anticipation. A moment later, his hand is on my
breast, massaging skillfully.
Keagan’s breathing becomes shallow and erratic. He gasps into my mouth. It’s like he’s finally
allowed to touch me. Like he’s always wanted to.
I push the thought out of my mind. I stop thinking all together.
My hand wanders down his body and into his lap. I rest my palm on his cock, and he’s hard—so
fucking hard—through his jeans. When I rub him through the thick material, he groans again.
“Fuck, Dana. I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“What?” I mumble against his lips, not believing what I’m hearing. Is my lust addled brain making
hear things now?
He shakes his head without breaking the kiss and reaches for the hem of my shirt. He pulls it up
over my breasts, and his hands land on my bra.
I break the kiss.
“Keagan. Really?” I ask, gaping at him. “For how long?”
His eyes are a dark blue, like the ocean, and he licks his lips. He nods slowly, opening his mouth to
speak.
“This is a bad idea,” I say, cutting him off before he can say anything and shaking my head. I start
pulling back my hand from his cock, but he stops me, pressing my hand down with his.
“Don’t fucking think about it,” he says.
 He moves his hips, grinding himself against my hand. I gasp. I want him so bad. I’m crazy horny,
I’m wet, and I want him to keep going. I don’t ever want to stop.
My shirt is still up over my breasts. He leans into me again. This time, I give in.
I close the distance and kiss him. I move my hand on his cock again.
I want this.
I’ve always wanted this, if I’m being honest.
And now that I’m getting a taste, I don’t know if I’ll be satisfied until I get it all.
 Keagan


Everything about Dana is so much fucking better than I always imagined it to be.
Her tongue is hot and slick when I taste her. Sweet. Her lips are soft. Dana is a fucking amazing
kisser. She’s had a lot of practice, from what I can tell. Or maybe she’s just a natural.
I like the latter idea better. The first makes me feel a possessiveness that I don’t understand.
When I start taking off her clothes, she lets me. My cock throbs in my pants. I’m so hard, I can
barely restrain myself. I ache for her. I want to rip her clothes right off her body.
All I can think about is getting her naked and underneath me so I can finally fuck her, hard and fast
like I’ve fantasized about a million fucking times.
When I peel away her clothes bit by bit, her body is revealed, and it’s even better than in my
fantasies. Her tits are just a little bigger than I can cup in my hand. I unclasp her bra and pull it off her
shoulders. Dana arches her back, pushing out her chest. Her nipples are dark and rosy, and the rest of her
body is covered with smooth, milky skin.
Fuck.
I lean forward and take a nipple in my mouth. She moans softly when I do, and the sound tugs at my
core, my cock twitching in response.
Her nipple is erect in my mouth, a little nub that I flick my tongue over. I massage her other tit with
my hand, finding the nipple and rolling it between my thumb and forefinger.
I’m grinding my cock against her leg, dry humping her. Jesus. But I can’t fucking help myself. I can’t
contain myself. She’s making me lose control.
Dana pulls my shirt up, and I stop long enough for her to pull it over my head and toss it aside. Her
hands slide onto my back, and she curls her fingers so her nails graze me. I groan, a new wave of lust
flowing through me.
Fuck, is this really happening?
With a guttural moan, I wrap my arm around her lower back and pull her toward me so she moves
away from the boxes.
She lies down on the carpet. Exactly what I wanted. I unbutton her jeans, unzip them, and pull them
down. She’s wearing a lace G-string. Her legs are long and smooth. When I tug at her panties, her scent
reaches my nostrils. The smell of her sex tugs at my cock, and I’m overpowered by lust.
I rip the panties down her legs, and then she’s completely bare in front of me.
Holy fucking hell. She’s like a fucking angel. Better than I ever imagined.
When I look at her face, her lips are parted, and her pupils are dilated. Her chest rises and falls
with her breath. She’s a vision, a goddess, lying in front of me without any reserve.
I have to have her. I crave her. Fucking need her. Like my whole fucking existence hinges on it.
 I put my hand on her neck and slide it slowly down her breastbone. She arches her back and
trembles when I do. I slide my hand down further, over her abdomen to the apex of her thighs. I touch her
between her legs, and she gasps. She opens her legs for me a little, and I slip my fingers into her slit. She
gasps again.
“God, you’re so fucking wet,” I say.
“I know,” she whispers, her eyes wide as if he can’t believe we’re doing this, but so full of lust that
it’s clear she doesn’t want me to stop.
Good.
I can smell her. The sweet scent drives me crazy. I slide my fingers up and down her slit. She jerks
whenever I slide over her clit, and it’s all I can do not to drive my cock into her, balls deep, right this
fucking second.
She reaches for my jeans and tugs at the buckle, managing to undo it with one hand. When she has
my pants undone, she pulls them open and pulls down my boxer briefs, wrapping her fingers around my
shaft. She pulls me free from my underwear to have easier access and slides her hand down and back up.
I lean over and kiss her again. My tongue slides into her mouth, and she kisses me back. Her hand
slides up and down my cock, and she’s making it hard for me to concentrate on what I’m doing to her. I
slide my hand down and push a finger into her. She gasps against my lips.
I pump my finger in and out of her. She’s so wet, I slip in and out with ease. After a few strokes, I
add another finger. She opens her legs wider to give me more access, and I pump my hand faster, sliding
my fingers in and out of her.
Her hand pumps up and down faster on my cock, and it’s getting hard to think. She knows exactly
what she’s doing. Her fingers are fucking magic. I move my hips, bucking with her as she jacks me off.
I lean my bare chest onto her, feeling her tits against my overheated skin. Her nipples are hard. I
move my head to her neck and kiss and lick her, nibbling on the skin a bit.
I can feel an orgasm building slowly, my balls tightening. If I want to carry this through to actually
fucking her, and God knows that’s exactly what I fucking want, she has to stop. Like right the fuck now.
“Stop, baby,” I whisper hoarsely in her ear. “You’re going to make me come before we do
anything.”
She stops moving, resting her hand on my cock.
“God, I want to fuck you so badly,” I say in her ear. She rolls onto her side a little, pressing her
pussy harder against my hand.
“How badly do you want me?” she asks.
I groan. “You have no idea,” I say in a throaty voice. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for years.”
She gasps, and I can’t tell if it’s because of my words or what I’m doing with my fingers.
“You’re still wearing your boxers,” she says.
I stop fingering her and nod. I roll away from her and work my pants and my boxers down my legs
before I kick them away. I’m naked and hard, my cock straining, eager for her.
“Tell me what you want,” I say to her.
Her blue eyes are big and boring into mine, her lips parted. She licks them with that soft pink
tongue, and I swallow hard. I reach for her mouth, pressing my fingers against her lower lips. She dips her
chin, taking a finger into her mouth and sucking on the tip of it. Her mouth is hot and wet around my finger,
and I can just imagine her doing it to my cock.
Jesus Christ. I groan.
“Tell me what you want,” I order again. I want to hear her say it. I want her to say the words I’ve
wanted to hear from her for as long as I can remember.
She lets go of my finger.
“I want you to fuck me, Keagan,” she says, her voice strong and sure. Holy hell. My name in her
mouth as she tells to fuck her sounds sexy as fuck.
“God, I want you, too,” I say.
I roll onto her. Her thighs fall open for me, and I position myself between them. I press my head
against her entrance.
“You’re sure?” I ask in a moment of clarity, where my conscience gets the better for me.
Shit. Why do I have to go and be all chivalrous now of all times? What if she changes her mind?
She arches her back and closes her eyes.
“Just do it, Keagan. God, you’re driving me crazy.”
Thank fuck. I grin.
“Do what?” I want to hear her say it again.
“Fuck me,” she says in a throaty voice.
I’ve waited my whole fucking life to hear her beg me to fuck her. And here it is. The moment I’ve
dreamed of for as long as I’ve known what it meant to want to fuck. She’s been the one I’ve always
wanted and could never have.
And she’s begging me, arching her hips toward my cock, her soaked pussy opening for me.
I smile and push my cock into her, so fucking slowly I can barely stand it. I groan as I continue to
slide into her.
Fuck. She’s so wet.
She gasps and moans, her pussy clamping and massaging my cock as I fill her. Until I’m in to the
hilt. Balls deep. She’s so fucking tight, it’s all I can do not to come right away.
“Fuck, Dana, you’re tight like a virgin,” I say.
She smiles at me and bites her lip in a teasing way that’s sexy as hell. “Maybe you’re just a big
boy.”
There’s nothing like a woman stroking a man’s ego the way she’s doing right now. I shut my mouth
and pull out so just the tip is inside her, before I push into her again. Harder this time.
 She cries out. I do it again, pulling out and pushing back into her. She moans again, and I pick up my
pace, pushing and pulling, thrusting harder and harder. Faster and faster.
Her tits jiggle whenever I slam into her, and her moans and gasps match my rhythm.
I fuck her harder and harder, thrusting into her before I pull out. She cries out, her moans echoing
through the almost empty house.
This is like everything I’ve ever fantasized about, but a million fucking times better. Her face is
orgasmic, her tits are a vision, her body is perfect, and she feels better than anything I could ever have
imagined. She sure as shit feels a lot better than my hand always did when I fantasized about fucking her
like this.
I pound into her like a jackhammer, and she’s moaning, and I swear I’m stuck in a goddamn dream.
This is too good to be true.
Her body is pinned beneath mine. I lean forward, lying on top of her, bracing my weight with my
elbows on either side of her head. I feel her tits press against my chest. Her breath is hard and rhythmic in
my ear, in time with our fucking. I take her earlobe between my teeth, and she shudders beneath me.
“Keagan,” she says in a breathy voice, and I smile.
It’s not a scream, but my name is on her lips and she sounds like a fucking angel. I’ve fantasized
about this countless nights on end, my fingers wrapped around my own dick, coming so fucking hard at the
mere thought.
Now that it’s happening, it takes everything just to hold back my own orgasm. I want to come, to fill
her up with my hot, milky cream.
I push up again, making space between us. I glance down at her tits before looking at my cock
entering her and pulling out again. I’m slick with her juices, and the sight of her hips splayed out for me is
fucking unreal.
I balance on one arm, pulling my knee up a bit to keep my balance as I keep thrusting and slide my
hands between our merging bodies. I find her clit with my thumb. When I do, she gasps, and her eyes
shoot open, finding mine.
I rub her clit in circles as best I can. My rhythm is a little frantic because of me pumping into her,
needing to feel her come, her pussy clench around my cock. She opens her mouth, and she’s gasping and
moaning, so I’m doing something right.
She’s moving closer and closer to the edge. I can see it by the way her eyes roll back in her head.
Her lips are parted, and she’s moaning and whimpering louder now. My name is on her lips again, and it’s
enough to push me over the edge as well.
I don’t, though. I’m proud my self-control. I want to keep fucking her as long as I can. I want my
cock buried deep inside her for fucking ever.
Dana’s hands are on my shoulders, and she slides one had up to my neck and then my cheeks. She
touches my face; her eyes are on mine, and I’m struggling to read the expression on her face. Other than
pure erotic bliss, of course.
She licks her lips and swallows before she opens her mouth again, continuing to breathe hard. I
slow my pace right down, letting her focus on what I’m doing to her clit.
She produces a throaty groan, and I feel her walls twitch, a precursor to an orgasm where her body
will clench down on mine and milk my cock for all it’s worth.
I torture her for a while, slowly moving in and out of her body, drawing circles around her clit,
pushing her to the limit. The change in pace allows me to gain control over my own orgasm as well.
Dana moves her hands onto my chest and feels my pecs. I work out every morning, and I know I
have the body of a fucking model. I know that I look good.
She bites her lip again, and I grin. Her hands slide down my abs and onto my ribs, and I flinch. She
slides her hands onto my back and pulls against me. Her legs wrap around my hips.
She wants more. She wants me to pick up my pace, to ram into her again, harder and harder. Her
eagerness is intoxicating.
And who am I to say no?
I let go of her clit and pick up my pace again, pumping into her. My hips pound against her, burying
my cock inside her wetness again and again.
My balls slap against her ass, and the sound of our sex fills the room, providing the soundtrack for
the night.
 Dana


Keagan is better than anyone I’ve ever had. Maybe it’s because of the thrill and the danger of it all.
Fucking your stepbrother is supposed to be taboo. But I liked him before my parents met, and apparently,
he’s felt the same way all this time.
Or, judging by the way he came onto me, kissing me and instigating sex like it’s all he thinks about,
it’s been on his mind even more than on mine.
I’m not complaining. In fact, I can’t even think straight enough to wonder about what we’re doing
and why. I’m lost in the sensation of his cock pumping in and out of me. His grunts and my moans fill the
room in harmony to the slick sound of our sex and the slapping sound of him hammering into me.
He’s stroking me in all the right places. His cock slides pasts my G-spot again and again, pushing
me into a state of bliss. With his thumb, he’s working magic on my clit. The orgasm he’s building deep
inside of me tightens my core. The pending ecstasy has my body jerking and spasming already.
I’m aching for a release, lust overpowering me as Keagan plows into me. All I can think about is
that I want him to come inside of me. Some animalistic part of me wants him to claim me.
He keeps it up on my clit, his thumb rocking back and forth in the little space he has between his
pubic bone and mine. Keagan’s fingers are rough, despite a job that’s not physical, and the friction is
driving me crazy.
My breathing comes harder and faster, interrupted when I spasm a little and my breath hitches in my
throat. I keep my eyes closed most of the time, getting lost in the bliss of our sex. When I open my eyes,
Keagan’s blue eyes are on mine. He’s watching my face, and he has a look of satisfaction on his features.
“You’re so hot,” he says. I can’t concentrate on formulating a response. “You’re getting close,
aren’t you?”
I nod. Keagan keeps at it, pushing into me, rubbing my clit with his thumb. Slowly, the orgasm
builds. My muscles clench, my body goes numb in all the right places, and my skin is on fire. Keagan
leans down and kisses me. I open my mouth, letting him enter me with his tongue again. He tastes like pure
pleasure. He licks my lips with the tip of his tongue and plants feather light kisses on my mouth.
I moan. I want to orgasm. I need that release.
Keagan removes his hand, and I look at him. I don’t want him to stop. I want him to push me over
the edge so I can fall into the abyss. I want him to keep at it until I fall apart beneath.
Keagan stops pounding and pulls slowly out of me. My pussy throbs. I want him back.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
I arch my back, slide my hands over my abdomen and down toward my hips. My body needs the
release. My need is so bad it hurts.
“Get on top of me,” Keagan commands and rolls off me, lying on his back next to me.
 He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I roll over and throw my leg over him, straddling him. I lean
forward so my breasts are in his face, and he takes a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it for a moment. I
lower my hips and press my pussy onto his shaft. He’s thick and long. I wiggle my hips so that he’s lying
along my slit. I move up and down, rubbing my clit against him.
The movement pulls my nipple out of his mouth, and Keagan groans, his hands finding my breasts.
He pinches both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and tugs at them. The pain is a good kind of
pain.
“Are you trying to torture me?” he asks.
I smile and nod, keeping up my rocking. I slid up and down his cock. The friction on my clit sends
shivers up my spine.
I’m torturing him, but I can’t hold it much longer, either. I want him back inside of me, and now I’m
in charge. I reach down, press his cock up with my fingers, and position my entrance over him. When I sit
down on him, he slides into me, and we both moan in unison.
From this angle, Keagan feels even bigger, and I move a little to adjust to his size. I rock my hips a
little, getting a feel for him. He puts his hands on my hips and guides me, pushing and pulling.
I lift my ass off him a little and move back and forth so that I’m sliding him in and out of me.
Keagan’s mouth is open, his breathing hard. I pick up my pace, moving my hips back and forth, fucking
him.
“That’s it, baby girl,” Keagan says in a breathy voice. “Fuck me harder.”
I do what he says. I buck my hips harder, fucking his cock. His eyes roll back in his head, and he
moans.
“If you keep it up, I’m going to come,” he says.
“That’s what I want,” I answer.
I sit down on him again so he reaches as far into me as his size allows. I move my hips back and
forth, riding him. My knees chafe on the carpet, the skin getting hot and sensitive, but I don’t care.
I want him to come. I want him to come because of me. My breasts jiggle back and forth. Keagan
isn’t holding on to them anymore, and they swing freely. The friction, the rocking, the fucking, all turns
into a primal rhythm, and I let it take over.
I move faster, watching Keagan’s face, reading his expressions. I can tell when he’s close, and
when that happens, I back down. I slow down my pace, stroking him, moving up and down his shaft
painfully slow, until he moans in protest, and I’m on the verge of losing control again. Then I pick up the
pace, rocking harder and faster, letting my body take over. When that happens, I brace my hands on
Keagan’s chest and let my body do what it was made to do.
I lean forward, leaning my breasts on Keagan’s chest and move my torso while I’m bucking my
hips, dragging my breasts and erect nipples across Keagan’s chest. I know he can feel me. When I stop, I
nuzzle his neck and lick circles on the skin, moving up and down toward his ear lobe. When I take his
earlobe in my mouth, Keagan gasps. It’s a soft spot of his, I realize.
I spend more time on his neck, moving my hips slowly up and down, sliding him in and out, taking
my time.
“You’re driving me mad,” Keagan says.
His hands are on my hips, and he’s urging me to go faster, his hands guiding me. I only fight him for
a short while before my lust and his win out over my intentions to draw things out.
I sit down on him again and start rocking back and forth, riding him. Hard.
Keagan moans. His eyes are on me, moving between my eyes and my nipples. His pupils are so
dilated, his irises are a thin blue line around them, and he licks his lips every now and then. Keagan
reaches for my swinging breasts and massages them, cups them, and pinches the nipples. I gasp.
I’ve started working up an orgasm again. My clit rubs against Keagan’s pubic bone, sending shocks
of electricity through my body. My G-spot is stimulated as well, and the combination makes my body go
numb again. I’m getting out of breath. I’m fit, but not that fit.
Keagan reaches up and brushes my hair out of my face. His eyes are warm and gentle, suggesting
there’s more than just raw lust at play here. The idea that there might be emotion involved, infatuation
perhaps, confuses me.
I can’t think about that now. I crushed on him at school, but he’s been my stepbrother for longer than
he hasn’t been, and I don’t know what’s happening.
I shove my emotions away. I don’t want them to interfere with what I’m feeling, with our fucking
and our orgasms and the bliss that has wrapped us into a cocoon that shields us from reality.
As soon as I focus on what our bodies are doing, on the friction on my clit and the hard cock inside
me, the orgasm washes over me. I cry out and lean forward, my muscles clenching down. I can feel my
walls contract around Keagan’s cock, and the feeling is intense. I curl onto his chest, unable to hold
myself up, and open my mouth in a silent “O.” I squeeze my eyes shut and let the ecstasy take over.
Keagan isn’t going to let me ride this one out without doing anything. As soon as I’m on his chest,
my body rigid and jerking, Keagan wraps his arms around me and starts bucking his hips, fucking me from
beneath. I cry out.
His cock rams into me, hard and fast, and the orgasm intensifies even more. I’m swathed in
pleasure. Keagan keeps at it, bucking beneath me, using my body to take what he needs. I let myself come
undone at the seams and unravel in his arms as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me, egged on by
Keagan’s insistent fucking.
Keagan groans, stiffening and pulling his arms tight around me so my breasts mash against his chest.
His cock is bulging inside me, and it pulsates as he releases, emptying himself out inside me. His head
lifts off the floor, and he buries his face in my hair. I can feel his breath, hot on my neck.
He fills me up even more than he has before, and I can feel him pumping out come along the length
of his shaft. My orgasm is over, but his release triggers echoes, and I moan in his ear. Keagan’s breath is
labored, uneven, and he jerks beneath me.
Finally, when it’s over, he lets go of me enough that I can breathe again. He drops his head back
onto the floor. He’s breathing hard, his chest rising and falling against mine, and I can feel his heart
hammering against my own ribs.
I look at him. His hair is drenched with sweat, our skin is slick where we’re touching, and
Keagan’s eyes are hooded now. His lips are still parted as he tries to catch his breath.
I don’t move. Not yet. He’s still inside me, and I’m lying on top of Keagan, my breasts against his
chest, my arms on the floor, and hands on his shoulders. My insides throb with the aftereffects of our sex,
and I shiver. I’m getting cold.
Keagan moves his head and tips my chin up toward him with his hand. He kisses me again. This
time, the kiss is soft and sensual. His tongue slips into my mouth again, and I swirl my tongue lazily
around his, basking in the bliss of a perfect orgasm and fantastic sex.
 Keagan


When Dana finally rolls off me, we’re both fucking spent. She lies next to me, her body lax, her
legs splayed open a little, her nipples soft. She traces her hand up her body in a sexy way, but it’s languid.
Not trying to incite something.
She turns me on anyway. She always fucking turns me on. She milked me dry, but she’s sexy as hell,
and that won’t change, no matter how many times I come inside of her.
Which if I have my way, will be a whole fucking lot more.
“That was fucking fantastic,” I say with a sigh.
Dana giggles. “Yeah. It really was.”
She hesitates. I turn my head to her. She looks like she wants to say something.
“What is it?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Do you feel weird?” she asks. “I mean, about this? About having sex?”
I shake my head. I don’t feel anything about it at all. It’s what I’ve wanted for the longest time.
“I’m perfectly happy,” I say. “And satisfied.”
She smiles. God, she’s fucking beautiful. Everything about her radiates with a raw and natural
beauty. She’s not high maintenance like the other girls I’ve seen. It’s what I’ve liked about her from the
start.
“So, you really wanted to fuck me since we were kids?” Dana asks.
I’m surprised at the way she puts it. She’s straightforward about it. It’s unlike her, but I like it. I
nod.
“I’ve been fantasizing about you since just after our parents got married. But I knew I would never
be able to have you. Still, you’ve always been on my mind.”
I don’t know if I should tell her that I jacked off to the thought of her all the time. Or that I still do.
Dana frowns. “So, you touch yourself when you think of me?” she asks.
I swallow and nod. Well, if she’s gonna ask point blank, I’m not gonna fucking lie about it. Her lips
curl into a smile, and I’m relieved she doesn’t think I’m a total perv.
“I wasn’t joking when I said you’re always on mind. I’ve wanted to do this for a long fucking time,
Dana. Longer than I think you’ll feel comfortable with.”
Dana purses her lips together, but her eyes are still smiling at me. I don’t think she minds as much
as I thought she might. I’m not sure what that means, but I’ll take it.
“How about you?” I ask. “Do you ever…”
She shrugs. It’s not an answer, and I don’t want to push her. I got to have my way with her tonight,
and that’s already pushing it enough.
The sex was fucking amazing. I don’t want to dare hope that we can do it again, but she’s going to
live with me. You never know what will happen. Besides, she seems relaxed about it, calm that it
happened. She isn’t freaking out, even when we’re not caught up in lust anymore.
That’s a fucking good sign, right?
We lie in silence for a while, lost in our own thoughts. I still can’t believe Dana is lying next to me,
naked, after I fucked her. It was just the other day that I watched her hand her business card to the slick
fucker who wished he could have what I have now. And here we are, after we fucked, and she’s still here
and smiling. I want to pinch myself to know that I’m not dreaming.
But I know it’s not a dream. I can reach out my fingers and touch her. I can still taste her on my lips,
feel her on my cock as if a ghost of her sex was left behind. Just to be sure, I lean toward her and plant a
kiss on her lips. She doesn’t hesitate to kiss me back.
The carpet is rough underneath my back now, and the cold plays on my skin. Dana’s skin is riddled
with goosebumps, and I know she feels the chill in the air, too.
“Let’s get dressed,” I say. “It’s getting late.”
Dana nods and together we get dressed. We pull our clothes on in silence. Slowly, as I pull each
piece of clothing on and fasten it, making myself respectable again, the evidence of what we did slips
away until we’re just two people again, standing in the empty living room.
“Let’s go home,” I say.
Dana nods and looks around the place.
“It’s strange that I won’t be able to call this place home anymore. It’s weird seeing it so empty. I
don’t think I like it.”
I know what she’s feeling, but a selfish part of me relishes in the idea that she has to stay with me
now, that she has no cash to arrange an alternative. If it wasn’t for her being fired and her job search not
working out, none of this would have happened.
I’m glad it did. I don’t wish for Dana to fail, but this time, it worked out in my favor.
She walks through her place, switching off lights in the rooms. Finally, she’s ready to leave. She
locks up, and we walk to the car together. I’m carrying two boxes for her while she carries her bags.
The drive home is quiet, save for music coming from the radio that I’ve turned down so it’s barely
more than a whisper. I want her to be able to talk when she wants to. I want her to say something. I don’t
know what, but this silence between us after what we’ve done is disconcerting.
“What do you think people will think?” she asks after she hasn’t spoken for a while.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s taboo for us to be sleeping together. I know it’s modern times, but not a lot of people are going
to agree with what we’re doing.”
I shrug. “I don’t fucking care what people think.”
“You of all people should care,” she says. “You have a reputation. You’re being scrutinized all the
time. I don’t even what to know what they’re going to say about you sleeping with your stepsister.”
 So, this is why she’s so quiet. I get where she’s coming from. I don’t like that the bliss fell away so
quickly, but she makes a very good point.
“What do you want to do, then?” I asked. I have a feeling she’s going to tell me that we can’t do it
again, and I’m dreading it. Now, just that I’ve finally gotten what I’ve always wanted, I stand to lose it
again.
I glance at her. She’s watching cars pass from the passenger window.
“I don’t think we should tell anyone what we’re doing. Just keep it private?”
She looks at me. I glance at her, unsure.
“You want to keep doing it?” I ask.
Dana nods. “I want to fuck you, Keagan. I just don’t want the world to know.”
I can’t fucking help it. Hearing the words from her lips turns me on so fucking much. In no time at
all, I’m hard as a rock again, even though I’ve just had one of the biggest orgasms of my life. I shift in my
seat. Dana isn’t paying attention to what’s going on in my crotch area. Her eyes are glued to the landscape
again, and I’m relieved.
A few minutes later, I pull into the resident parking and park in the bay allocated to my apartment.
We get out, and I help her carry her luggage and boxes inside. We ride the elevator to my floor, and I let
her walk first. When we reach my door, I unlock it for her, and she steps into the apartment.
“This is nice, Keags,” she says.
I moved recently, and she hasn’t seen my place yet. It’s a step up from what I had before. The
money I’m making with my social media platform let me get a place this nice.
It’s a two-bedroom apartment, but it’s lush, with granite counter tops in the kitchen, double volume
ceilings that give the place a dramatic feel, and wood-style flooring in the living areas.
“Let me show you to your room,” I say.
No one has used the spare bedroom before. It has plush carpets and a double bed. She has her own
bathroom with a shower and a large closet. When she walks in, she turns around.
“This is more than I could ever hope for,” she says.
She looks emotional, and I realize that this is harder on her than she lets on. I put down her boxes in
a corner and walk to her. I wrap my arms around her and pull her against me. She blows out her breath in
a shudder, and I can feel how tense she is. This has been rough on her.
“Stay as long as you need, all right?” I say. “There’s no pressure. Take the time to get settled.”
She nods and smiles wanly at me.
“Do you mind if I go to bed?” she asks.
I shake my head. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired as well. I leave her to it, closing her door
behind her, and walk down the short passage to my own room. A moment later, I hear the shower turning
on. I lay down on my bed. I’ll shower when she’s done.
I close my eyes and picture her naked again. God, she was more beautiful than I could have ever
imagined. Her tits, her pussy, her ass. I’m getting hard all over again just thinking about her. But she’s also
here because things have been difficult for her. I’ll try not to push her too hard.
The shower turns off, and a moment later, I step into my shower. I soap myself up and run my hands
over my body and onto my cock, which is throbbing again. I slide my hand up and down my shaft, but it’s
not nearly as satisfying as it used to be. Now that I’ve had the real deal, beating the meat comes in far
second.
I finish in the shower, dry myself off, and get into bed, naked.
In the morning, I wake up from a dream where I’m fucking Dana. I smell coffee brewing. I don’t
usually wake up to anything being already done in my house, unless I’ve done it myself. It takes me a
moment to figure out what’s going on. When I turn under the sheets, the feeling of sex clings to me, and it
all comes rushing back to me. Dana, her naked body writhing beneath mine, on top of mine.
And she’s staying in my apartment now.
She must be making coffee.
I get out of bed and realize I have a full hard-on. Morning glory at its finest. I need to wait until it
goes down before I can walk out of my room. I pull on boxer shorts and a t-shirt. After a few minutes, I’m
good to go.
Dana is in my kitchen, opening all the cabinets. She’s wearing an oversized shirt and what looks
like nothing else. Then she reaches up, and I realize she’s wearing shorts underneath the shirt. Her breasts
look soft and beautiful through the shirt, and I try to guess if she’s wearing a bra or not.
“Morning,” I say.
She looks over her shoulder and closes the cabinet door.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” she says, and she looks embarrassed. “I was trying to familiarize
myself with your kitchen. I meant to cook breakfast.”
I shake my head and sit down at the breakfast counter on one of the barstools.
“Don’t be sorry. The coffee smells great.”
When we’re done with our coffee, we get dressed and head to her apartment to sort out the last of
her stuff. The team is there to cart away the boxes just before lunch, and then Dana meets with her
landlord to hand over the keys. When it’s all done, she breathes out with a shudder.
“I don’t want to go through something like this again,” she says.
I nod. I wish she asked for help sooner. If she had, things might not have gotten this bad.
“Let’s go get lunch,” I suggest. “My treat.”
We end up back at my place with club sandwiches and soda. Dana sits next to me, chewing.
“So, fifth grade, huh?” she asks after she swallows.
I nod. “That’s where it all started,” I say. “And you can’t help who you fall for.”
She smiles. “We were kids.”
I shrug. It doesn’t make a difference how old I was when I fell for her. I know her better than
anyone else in my life, and I know that she’s got a lot more to like than just what’s on the surface. Even
though she’s easy on the eyes, that wasn’t the only thing that drew me to her.
“What about you?” I ask. “I know it must have gone away at some point, but where did it start?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Just after you came to school.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” I ask.
“Because the new kid always gets attention. I thought I’d let you have it.”
I blink at her. I didn’t know it came along that far.
“Well,” I say, taking a sip of my soda. “Better late than never.”
 Dana


On Thursday morning, Keagan heads back to work, and I have the house to myself. I don’t really
feel at home yet. Being alone in a strange house is a little disconcerting. It’s also so soon after everything
went wrong, and I don’t know how to sort out my feelings yet.
I’ll make it through, somehow. I know that much. Keagan told me I could stay as long as I need to,
and I will just wait to find my feet before I go job hunting again. As kind as Keagan was to let me stay
here, I don’t want to become a burden. I already feel like I’m imposing.
I sit down in the living room and switch on the monster television he has against his wall. It’s a
typical male object to have. The size is like being in a cinema, and the sound surrounds me. I put on a
movie and try to zone out.
It doesn’t work very well. It doesn’t take very long before my mind drifts to Keagan and what we
did. I don’t know how I feel about it. Having sex with Keagan was fantastic when we did it, the stuff of
pure fantasy. But now that it happened, I don’t know where we stand.
I don’t know how I truly feel about him. There was a time when I liked him, when I wanted to go
out on a date with him to the movies or the ice cream parlor when we were kids. But he’s been living in
the same house as me for so long, I pushed everything away that wasn’t completely acceptable.
And that included whatever I might have felt for him.
At least, I thought I did.
Now, everything feels different. He’s a great guy, strong and caring, kind and gentle, but there’s a
sense of danger to him, too. He’s the kind of guy every girl can fall for. Especially now that he’s made it
so big.
What’s stopping him from having any girl out there? Why would he want to be with me?
But it’s not about dating, I remind myself. We’re just sleeping together. Fuck buddies. And it’s
better that way.
Still, I don’t want to tell anyone about what happened. I can imagine my friends’ reactions. They’ll
be horrified. They all think Keagan is hot, obviously, but not for his stepsister to fuck.
God, what have I gotten myself into?
I pause the movie and close my eyes. He is everything I ever wanted in a man. When he made a
move on me, he knew exactly what he was doing. He was demanding, an alpha male, but he respected me.
When last, if ever, have I had sex this good?
I shift down on the couch. I’m hot and bothered, and I am getting turned on just thinking about
Keagan and his cock. He touched me like I was the only women he’s ever seen, even though I know it
can’t be true. A man as attractive as him must have had many women.
Still, he took me like I was the only thing he wanted. And God, he did it well.
 I push my hands into my pants. My fingers slide into my slit, and I find my clit. I take a deep breath
and shiver.
The doorbell rings, and I freeze. I don’t know anyone in the building, and Keagan isn’t here. What
do I do?
It rings again, and then my mom’s voice calls through the door.
“Dana, honey, its me.”
I fix my pants, feeling silly, and walk to the front door. It takes me a moment to figure out the
locking system, and then I open the door. My mom hugs me before coming inside.
“I just want to see how you’re doing,” she says. She’s alone.
“Chris is watching the studio,” she adds, reading my mind before I have a chance to ask. “How are
you doing? Your cheeks are flush.”
I shrug and cup my cheeks with my hands. “I’m doing okay,” I say. “Keagan helped me sort out my
place yesterday. Do you want coffee? It’s the one thing I can make in this high-tech kitchen.”
My mom nods and follows me to the open plan kitchen. She sits down on a bar stool and watches
me move around the kitchen. I feel clumsy in a home that’s not mine.
“So, are you doing all right?” Mom asks.
“I think so, yeah.” I put on the coffee machine again, trying to do what I did this morning.
“And Keagan? How is it, staying with him?”
I swallow, thinking about the sex we had two nights ago. It wasn’t here, so I don’t think it counts.
“It’s okay,” I say. “It will take some getting used to, being in a house with him again.”
I hesitate. “Do you remember when I told you I had a crush on him? Before you and Chris got
together?”
My mom nods. “You were so sweet. Your first crush and all. Why do you ask? Do you still feel that
way about him?”
“God, no,” I say, almost before her sentence I finished. I get two mugs ready for coffee.
My mom narrows her eyes at me. “You do, don’t you?”
I shake my head, but I’m suddenly blushing furiously, and I feel like an idiot because I can’t stop it.
I’m giving it all away, and I’m not even saying anything.
“You slept together, didn’t you?” my mom asks.
My stomach turns. “Mom! What the hell?”
She grins. “’You’re so transparent. I knew there was something between you two.”
I keep shaking my head. My cheeks are on fire.
“You could never keep a secret from me. Remember when you snuck out on that bonfire night? It’s
the same.”
I was still shaking my head. This wasn’t happening. My mom didn’t just figure out that I’d slept
with Keagan. She’s smiling, though. She doesn’t look upset. And that confuses me.
 “What do you mean, you knew there was something between us?” I ask.
My mom shrugs. “I’ve always seen it. You two are just… different together.”
“And you’re not mad?” I ask. Keeping up the act is pointless.
My mom laughs. “Honey, who you fall in love with is hardly your choice. And you’re not related,
anyway.”
“But it’s taboo,” I say. I expect her to freak out, but she’s nice about it, and it’s unhinging me.
“Yes, yes, taboo. Some people think it’s wrong. But you know me. I’m open to anything. Besides,
like I said, you can’t choose.”
I shake my head. “It’s not love, though.” Right? I suddenly don’t know. But it can’t be. I mean, I
love him. I grew up with him. But being in love and loving someone amicably isn’t the same thing.
But friends don’t fuck each other.
I swallow hard.
“I doubt Chris will be as open about it,” I say.
Chris is letting my mom live out her dream by helping her with the studio, but he’s a hands-on,
black-and-white kind of guy most of the time. He’s not exactly open to new things, never mind bizarre
things.
My mom sighs and shakes her head. “Sweetie, if you want to do something, you must go ahead and
do it. I know you want your parents’ approval, but it’s your choice. If this really gets serious, then we can
worry about telling him.”
I nod. She’s right. I don’t even know if it’s serious yet.
I can’t believe she knows. I can’t believe she figured it out. But my mom is a free-spirited person,
and I’ve always been able to tell her things without her freaking out. It’s the one reason we’re still so
close.
All my friends have had fights with their mothers. They don’t get along, or they keep secrets from
them. I’ve never had that with my mom.
It had been just the two of us for a long time, and after she found Chris, we had stayed close,
despite my fears that she would turn away from me.
Now that she knows, it feels good. It feels good to have spoken about it to someone, even if I didn’t
go into detail. Which I didn’t think I ever would.
“So, how serious is it?” she asks me.
I shrug.
“I mean, is it just sex or are you going to make it official?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know where we stand yet. I know we’re not going to be official, and
there’s no way we’re going public, what with his career and everything.”
My mom nods. “It will be easier to figure out if it’s just the two of you for now. To understand
where you stand without the pressures from the public.”
 I nod. It’s sound advice. I can’t believe she’s so open about it, and she’s not lecturing me about how
wrong it is. Of course, my mom never thinks something is wrong. At worst, she believes that it’s just the
wrong time. I’ve never been as open-minded and easy about life as she is, but I understand her, and her
approach this time helps me.
After a while, my mom leaves. She’s satisfied, knowing that I’m okay, and she wanted to get back
to Chris.
I open one of my boxes and find a sketch pad. I haven’t sketched in a while, and it feels good to do
my own thing again.
Keagan comes home just after five.
“You’ll never guess what happened,” I say.
When he looks at me, I tell him about the visit from my mom and what she figured out. He’s
shocked, but I shake my head.
“She doesn’t care,” I say. “She’s not angry or anything. In fact, I think she’s all for it.”
Keagan frowns. “That’s weird,” he says.
I nod. It is weird, all things considered.
“I’ve wanted to ask,” I say. “Can I use your bath tub?”
Keagan blinks. “You don’t have to ask. This is your home, too.”
I smile and thank him. The bath tub is in his bathroom, and I didn’t want to intrude. I close the door
and get the hot water running. The bath is large and oval, and it takes a while to fill up.
When it’s full, I undress and get in the water. I sit in the bath, and it covers me almost up to my
shoulders. It’s the epitome of luxury.
I close my eyes and lean my head back.
The bathroom door opens, and Keagan walks in. I feel slightly exposed. His eyes are on my body,
filled with hunger and arousal. Seeing that look in his gaze takes away any embarrassment. I watch him as
he walks toward me and sits on the edge of the bath.
He drags his fingers through the water, until his fingertips graze my shoulder. He squeezes my
shoulder once before he slides his hand into the water and cups my breast. My nipples tighten
immediately and Keagan smiles. I let him fondle me. My pussy gets hot in the water, hotter than the bath
already is, and I feel myself getting wet, even though I’m submerged.
Keagan slips from the edge of the bath so he’s kneeling on the floor. His other hand joins me in the
water, and he traces my body down, over my abdomen. He pushes his hand between my legs without
ceremony, and his fingers slip into my slit.
I close my eyes and tip my head back. He circles my clit a few times before pushing his fingers
deep inside me. My body is on fire, begging for attention again. Keagan pushes his fingers in and out of
me, finger fucking me. I’m balanced between his hand on my breast and his hand on my pussy. My
breathing becomes erratic and shallow, and my desire overtakes me.
 Keagan


I only play with her for a short while before I can’t fucking stand it any longer.
Her breathing is fast, her chest rising and falling in the water. Her tits are perfect, her nipples dark
and erect, and I just want to suck on them. But I have other things in mind. I’ll taste her later.
I let her go, and her eyes shoot open, a protest on her lips. She doesn’t form the words. Instead, she
watches as I strip off my clothes, dropping them in a pile on floor.
When I’m naked, I climb into the hot water with her. I’m hard and throbbing. Her eyes are on my
cock. She’s horny as fuck at the sight of it. It’s plain in her dark blue eyes.
Once I’m in the water, she sits up, moving toward me. She touches me, her fingers grazing the skin
on my cock, and I gasp. Her touch is electric. She kisses me, and she tastes like hot water and lust. I want
her so fucking bad. I want to be buried inside her. I want her body pressed up against mine.
I don’t have to fantasize about it for very long. She shifts onto my lap. The tub is large enough for
her to straddle me, and she puts her legs around my hips. I hold myself up for her, and she moves onto me,
sliding down on my cock.
I press into her. She gasps as I slide home, and her walls squeeze my cock so fucking tight. She
feels tighter than yesterday, but I know when I’m this aroused, I tend to be pretty fucking huge.
“God, Keagan,” she breathes, and I’m sure that my name on her lips is the sexiest fucking thing I’ve
ever heard. “You feel so good.”
I can say the same for her, but I don’t get a chance to verbalize it before she starts moving back and
forth, sliding herself up and down my shaft.
Sex in the bath is a different sensation. The water laps around us, rippling as she rides me. Being
submerged in water makes it a sensory playground, with the heat touching my skin everywhere up to my
chest.
Her tits just touch the water when she sits on my lap. Her hardened nipples press against my
collarbone. I dip my head, taking one into my mouth, and then the other. She rides me harder, and the
water starts sloshing back and forth, like a jacuzzi created through our fucking.
She seems more carefree than when we did it before. Dana gives herself over to the sensations,
bouncing up and down on my cock, riding me for all she’s worth. The feeling is intense almost right away.
It’s going to a take a lot of concentration to hold out tonight.
I don’t mind. I like being tested. I continue sucking her nipples, and she groans, tipping her head
back, bathed in pleasure.
After a while, I need a change. If we carry on like this, I’m going to finish before we even get
properly started. I want to spend hell of a lot more time exploring her body.
“I want to fuck you from behind,” I say, and my voice sounds throaty.
 She stops and looks at me with smoldering eyes. Her pupils are dilated, and her eagerness is plain
on her face.
She climbs carefully off me and turns, leaning on the edge of the tub. She looks over her shoulder at
me, and she’s sexy as fuck. She wiggles her ass, inviting me. A smile plays over her lips.
She’s fucking hot, and she knows it. She knows that she turns me on. I wonder if I’m really the one
in control, after all.
I kneel behind her and position myself. I rub my head over her ass, holding my cock at the base. She
has a perfect ass, round and beautiful, and it’s pure pleasure to be able to claim her the way I am now.
I find her entrance with my other hand and guide my cock to her pussy. With one hand on her back
and the other still at the base of my cock, I slide into her. She moans, and her ass cheeks rest against my
hips.
It’s enough to make we want to come so fucking hard right away, but I restrain myself. I want her
hard and fast. I want her every way I can get it.
I start nailing her from behind and pound into her. Dana braces herself against the edge of the tub,
and she cries out freely, making noises that are purely sexual in nature. She’s a lot louder than she was
before.
I lose myself in fucking her. Her body pulls me in deeper, and her ass cushions my onslaughts. My
balls slap against her pussy, and I know she can feel it. She pushes her knees wider. I wonder if I’m
grazing her clit when I pump into her and my balls slap her again and again.
My hands are on her hips, and I run one up her spine and back down. Her back is stunning. Her
flawless skin and muscles are feminine but present, rippling under her skin as she grinds my cock and
presses back against me.
I don’t think I’m going to last much longer. I don’t want to come yet, but I don’t want to stop, either.
I want to keep pushing until I can barely stand it anymore.
I pump harder and harder, fucking her as hard as I’ve fantasized about, taking my lust out on her.
She cries out, her moans getting louder and louder. I hold onto her hips to keep her steady.
“God, Dana,” I bite out. “I’ve been wanting to do this to you for a long time. You have no idea how
many times I’ve fantasized about tearing your pussy apart like this.”
She moans when I talk dirty to her, and I smile. She looks innocent when you don’t know her better,
but she’s fucking wild, and I feel like this is just the tip of the iceberg.
I keep fucking her, slamming into her. She’s dipping lower and lower, hanging over the edge of the
tub, splaying herself open for me to see her most secret parts. She’s not just limp, letting me pound her,
though. She moves her hips, pushing her ass up against me to meet every stroke. After a moment, I realize
her hands are on her own breasts. She’s massaging her tits, tugging at her nipples and moaning, giving
herself pleasure while I’m doing the same.
The thought of her taking control of her own pleasure like that just makes me that much hotter. I
close my eyes and focus on the feel of her. Her walls clench my shaft, and her slick pussy slides over me
again and again. I slap her ass, just hard enough for it to make a sound but not to hurt. She yelps, and it’s
sexy as hell. I do it again, twice more, before I massage her ass and squeeze it instead.
This has to be my favorite position with her. We haven’t nearly explored enough of them. Although,
we’ll get there if I can help it. But so far, this is the one that I’ve thought about the most. With Dana
helpless and at my mercy, her ass exposed, her pussy clenching, and her lips crying my name. This is
exactly what I want.
I slow down my pace a little to catch my breath and give her a moment. She pushes herself up so
that she’s standing on her knees, her back against my chest. I reach around and massage her breasts.
I take her hand and put it on one of her breasts, encouraging her to keep touching herself. With my
other hand, I slide down her body, and my fingers find her clit. I rub it, listening to her breath hitch in her
throat, listening to her eagerness, and getting more and more aroused by it. I love having her at my
fingertips, able to control how far she goes, whether she goes all the way.
When I’m about done resting, I put my hand on her back and push her forward again, one hand on
her hip so her ass sticks out again.
“I’m not done fucking you, yet,” I say, and her breath hitches. I smile. She loves dirty talk. I think
I’ll do it more often. “
What do you want?” I ask. I slowly slide out of her and tease her, pumping only the head in and out
of her. She gasps, her moans sounding like complaints.
“Tell me what you want, Dana,” I say again in a low voice. I want her to beg for it. I want her to
want me as much as I want her. Judging by how wet she is, she does. Her sex is slick on my shaft. I want
to hear her say it.
“I want you to fuck me, Keagan,” she says.
“I’m sorry?”
“Fuck me, Keagan!”
She’s desperate. I feel the same, but I needed to hear her say it. Her pleas are all I need. I slam into
her, and she cries out. I start fucking her hard, mercilessly pounding into her. She collapses over the bath
tub, unable to hold herself up under my onslaught, and I hammer into her, again and again. She moans and
gasps, and her ass undulates with my every stroke, so that she’s a jiggling, sexy mess.
I’m getting closer and closer. Pausing helped, but if I keep it up, I’m going to come, and then it’s all
over. I don’t want that. I don’t want to come before she does. She’s the most beautiful thing when she’s
caught up in an orgasm, and I want to see it. I want to feel it on my cock, the way her body contracts and
her pussy clamps down on me, milking me.
I stop pounding into her and slowly slide out. She gasps, but when I’m free of her, she looks over
her shoulder.
“Don’t stop now,” she says in a husky voice.
 Her protests are hot. She lifts herself up again so her back is against my chest once more, and I turn
her head, kissing her.
“Sit on the edge of the tub,” I say against her lips.
“What?”
“Sit on the edge of the tub, facing me.”
She shivers. The water is starting to run cold. I reach for the hot tap and let it run until the steam
rises around us and the water is hot again. Dana does as I ask. She sits on the edge of tub.
She’s a sight to behold, her body tight and delicious, her nipples erect, her tits so fucking beautiful.
I run my hand through her hair and run my thumb along her bottom lip. She dips her head and takes my
thumb into her mouth, sucking on it. Her eyes are on me. Her mouth is hot, and she sucks me the way she
sucked my cock. It makes me twitch with desire.
I commit this image to memory, her body naked and on display for me, my thumb in her mouth, and
her eyes large and full of lust. If I ever need to fantasize about her again, instead of having her all to
myself, this is a memory I would visit again and again.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I say, and her lips curl into a smile around my thumb.
 Dana


I’m balanced on the edge of the tub with Keagan’s thumb in my mouth, and I’m ready for him to take
me again. I don’t know what he has in mind, but whatever he asks, I want to do it. Sex with him is better
than anything I’ve had before, and it’s not just because of the thrill and the secrecy anymore. He’s good in
bed, period.
He moves his mouth when his eyes are on my lips and his finger I’m sucking, and I know he’s got
dirty images in his mind. He’s been talking dirty to me, and even though the idea of being filthy with
someone has always put me off, I love it with Keagan. I want him to keep doing it.
He brings out a side of me I never knew I had.
Keagan kneels before me and spreads my legs with his hands. He runs them along my thighs,
moving toward my pussy. I tip my head back and moan in anticipation. I want him to touch me. His hands
move around my hips and onto my ass, and he squeezes my cheeks. He’s got a fascination with my ass,
and I take it as a compliment.
His mouth closes over my pussy, and I gasp. I don’t know what I was expecting, but the exhilaration
is out of this world. I push my hand into his hair, balancing myself with the other hand, and guide him.
Although, he doesn’t need guidance.
His tongue flicks over my clit several times, before he licks a trail to my entrance and dips his
tongue inside me. He returns to my clit, and I can barely contain myself. I twitch and jerk on the edge of
the tub. I’m not close to an orgasm yet, but I’m heading there.
Keagan moves one hand from my ass to my pussy, joining his tongue. He pushes two fingers into me
without ceremony, and I cry out. It’s not the same as his cock. Not even close. But the pleasure is just as
real.
He curls his finger in a beckoning motion, stroking my G-spot dead on. I gasp and hunch forward. I
press his head against me, his lips against my pussy. Then I buck my hips as much as my position allows,
fucking his face.
He hums against my clit, and the vibrations travel into my sex. It’s pure pleasure, and I gasp and
moan. He carries on, fucking me with his fingers, alternating pumping them in and out of my body with the
curling against my G-spot. With his mouth, he licks and sucks on my clit, alternating that, too, until I’m
overwhelmed by the sensations, unable to focus on anything but the ecstasy wrapping itself around me.
Keagan keeps me on the edge, refusing me my orgasm every time he changes position. It keeps
building, and every time I think I’m getting my release, he changes it again, making me desperate.
I have both hands in his hair now, sure he will keep me from falling. I’m trying to get him to keep
doing the same thing long enough to let me orgasm.
“Keagan, please,” I cry out. “Just let me come. Don’t keep me like this.”
 I know I’m begging, and I don’t care.
He gives me what I want. He keeps doing one thing for long enough, sucking my clit and pumping
his fingers into me. The feelings move me past the point of no return, and I finally orgasm.
It shatters through me, and I cry out. White light washes through my body, and I can’t think of
anything other than the pleasure pulsing through me. My body curls forward, and my legs close, pinning
his head between my thighs. He carries on licking me relentlessly, and the orgasm draws out. I’m crying
out and shuddering from the pleasure wave consuming me.
Finally, after what feels like forever, the orgasm finally subsides, and I can start thinking clearly
again. Keagan’s tongue is still on my clit, but he’s not moving. He isn’t pumping his fingers in and out of
me, either. He holds still, as if he understands that this is what I need, that if he moves now, it will ruin it
all.
Then it’s finally over completely. I sigh and open my legs. Keagan looks up at me and grins. His
mouth glistens with his saliva and my juices. He looks me in the eye and puts both his fingers in his mouth,
slowly sucking himself off, tasting me.
“That was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had,” I say.
He smiles and pulls me into the water with him. The water is hot on my skin, and my body relaxes.
After the orgasm, this is what I need. We lay together in the water for a while.
I look up at Keagan. His eyes are open, fixed on the tile opposite us. I don’t know what he’s
thinking, but I don’t want to ask. I look at his cock, and he’s still hard, rigid, and ready to keep going. It’s
exactly what I want. I don’t want to stop, now.
I reach for his cock and wrap my fingers around his shaft. I pump my hand up and down slowly.
Precum dribbles from his tip, making slimy strands in the water. He made me come. I want to return the
favor.
I want to give him an earth-shattering orgasm the way he did for me. I move my hand up and down
his shaft a little longer. He’s hard and big, his skin like velvet and pubic hair growing thick at the base. It
trails up to his bellybutton in a triangle of hair, and his abs are flat and defined. I’d always known that
Keagan had a good body, but I hadn’t noticed it before. Not like this.
Not as something I wanted to fuck.
“Get up on your knees,” I say, leaning away from him.
He looks at me, not hesitating a moment before doing as I ask. His cock points away from his body
at an angle. He’s hard and eager. I sit down in front of him and take him into my mouth.
I realize how big he is when I’m trying to suck him off. I have to stretch my lips to get around him,
and I go all the way down before his head touches my soft pallet. I wrap my hand around his base and
lengthen my reach that way, meeting my lips with my hand.
I pump up and down like that for a while. He moans, and his hands find their way into my hair, the
way I did with him. He pulls my hair back into a ponytail and holds onto it like a handle.
 He guides my head, encouraging me to pump my mouth over him faster and faster. I use my tongue,
playing it along his shaft, swirling it around his head before taking as much of him into my mouth as I can.
I repeat the process. My other hand slips down to his balls, and I cup them, squeezing them lightly. I play
with his balls and suck on his cock, listening to him gasp and moan, much the same way I had.
I let him slip out of my mouth and lick his cock like an ice cream, trailing my tongue up from the
base to the tip before I take him into my mouth again. I glance up at him. He’s looking down at me, his grip
still on my hair. I know what I look like to him. I know this is a turn-on. Men like seeing a woman on her
knees, her mouth wrapped around their cock, hands fondling their balls.
I’m not done, yet. I’m just getting started. I push my mouth over his cock again, taking him in,
moving my tongue. I push deeper and deeper, moving my hand as I take him in. I take a deep breath and
push him deep into my throat. I gag for a moment, but I get over it and push in even further. I’m deep
throating him, taking his full length into my mouth and throat.
“God, Dana,” he says though clenched teeth. “Fuck.”
I move my head back and forth, pumping his cock down my throat. I stop now and then to breathe,
before I plunge right back in and take him down my throat.
I don’t often do this, but I want to give him something as good as he’d given me. And Keagan is
different. I want to do this for him.
“If you keep it up, I’m going to come,” Keagan groans.
It’s exactly what I’m looking for. I want him to come in my mouth, down my throat. His hand grips
my hair harder, and he pushes my head toward him, picking up my rhythm. I let him set the pace as he
fucks my mouth, pumping his cock up and down my throat. He puts his other hand around my throat,
touching me lightly, and I wonder if he can feel the tip as he’s pumping.
My hands are still on his balls, and I fondle them, squeezing them gently, encouraging an orgasm. A
moment later, his balls tighten and he groans. I feel the come pump at the bottom of his cock. He empties
his load in my mouth, his come pumping down my throat.
I wait until he’s done before I pull back and gasp for air. I swallow to be sure it’s all down and
then look up at him.
“Holy shit,” Keagan says, and he sits back down in the water, hard enough that it splashes over the
edge. It looks like his legs are weak. Good.
“You’re a dirty girl,” he said. “Deep throat? Fuck.”
I grin. I can’t help it. There’s something satisfying about draining a man, and Keagan looks
sufficiently spent.
“If only I’d known you felt this way about me sooner,” he says. “I would have taken advantage of
your mouth a lot more.”
I nod. I agree. If we’d done this earlier, we would have done so much more. But this was where we
were now.
 “Better late than never,” I say.
Keagan smiles and leans back. The water comes up to his chest. He pulls me closer to him, and I
put my hand on his cock that’s going limp quickly. I hold onto him, and he pulls me against his chest. His
hand hangs over my shoulder, his fingertips grazing the top of my breast. He closes his eyes and sighs.
“That was intense,” he says a moment later. “Who knew you had so much talent?”
I smile. “I can say the same about you.”
He smiles at me. I can see he’s tired. He’s fading fast. A good orgasm will do that to you.
I get up and step out of the bath. I find a towel and dry myself off. When I hold out a hand to help
Keagan up, he protests before letting me help him out of the water. I hand him a towel. He wraps it around
his hips and pulls me against him. He pushes his hands underneath my hair, tipping up my head.
“You’re something else,” he says and kisses me.
It’s a gentle kiss, long and drawn out. I’m not sure what I’m feeling when he kisses me like that. It’s
the opposite of the sex we’ve been having. It’s gentle and caring. The sex is rough and about getting off.
I don’t know how to reconcile the two things together.
I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to talk about it and spoil a perfectly good night. There’s no reason
to find answers right now. We still have time. All we need to focus on right now is getting dressed and
getting in bed. I’m suddenly tired, too, even though I haven’t done anything during the day.
Keagan kisses me one more time when we split up to go to our separate rooms. I watch him until he
closes the door behind him before I walk to my own room.
 Dana


We’re in the car on the way to my mom and Chris’s place. The only sound in the car is the radio.
It’s not too loud. If we speak, we can hear each other, but neither one of us is saying anything.
I don’t know what to expect from the night ahead. My mom knows Keagan and I slept together. I
told Keagan, but I don’t know how she will act toward us.
I also don’t know what to do around Keagan in front of Chris. As a result, I’ve shut off from
Keagan completely. I would rather Chris think we hate each other than that something is going on between
us. I know it’s not the best way to handle it, but to be honest, this is all new territory to me.
“What do you think Susan will do?” Keagan asks, speaking for the first time. His mind is obviously
on the same thing.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I think she’ll be normal. At least, her version of it. You know how
she is.”
Keagan nods. It took him a while to get used to her in the beginning, but Chris and my mom have
been married for a long time now. Keagan has gotten used to her eccentricities.
“I’m worried about Chris,” I say. “I don’t know how to act in front of him. My mom saw right
through me the moment we spoke.”
Keagan shakes his head. “He’s not as sharp as Susan is. His mind might be on the football game
tonight or whatever. I’m not worried about him finding out.”
I’m not sure if Keagan is right to seem so relaxed about it. His words were confident, but he looks
tense, and I know it isn’t from work. The evening is going to be strange.
My mom and Chris moved into an apartment above the art studio after Keagan and I moved out, not
needing so many extra rooms anymore. The Art District consist of buildings dating back to the early
twentieth century. They’ve all been restored, and art has crept in many forms to the faces of the buildings.
From meaningless graffiti to the wall art that takes your breath away, the Art District has a feel of its own.
It’s not my favorite place to be. I’ve always been unsure among the buildings that threaten to spell
out doom, but Keagan is with me and we’ll be fine.
When we park in front of the Studio, I get out and walk through the door that leads upstairs to the
apartment above. My mom opens the door and throws her arms around me when she sees me.
“How are you, honey?” she asks.
I force a smile. “Good, thank you.”
My mom puts her hand on my cheek and gives me a knowing smile that I don’t like. She’s wearing
leggings and layers of material over it that make her look exotic. A broad headband is wrapped around
her hair, and she’s wearing all her rings so she looks a little bit like a fortune teller, not an artist.
Keagan becomes up behind me, and my mom gives him the same warm welcome.
 “There you are,” she says when she finally releases him from a hug. “The man of the hour.”
Keagan glances at me. I shake my head almost imperceptibly at him. He takes a deep breath and lets
it out slowly.
“You made it,” Chris says when he comes into the room. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and the
contrast between him and my mom is stark. I hug Chris, and Keagan shakes his dad’s hand.
When we’re around the dinner table, I sit opposite Keagan on purpose. I don’t want to risk
anything. My mom is in a good mood. She chatters away about her art, and it’s easy to switch off and do
nothing but nod and gasp in the right places. Chris eats fast, and he’s done first.
“So, Keagan,” Chris says. “Work is going well, eh? I tried that app of yours.”
“And?” Keagan asks, looking up from his plate.
He has broccoli speared on his fork. I’ve finished all mine. I notice he’s pushed all his to the side.
Some things never change.
Chris wrinkles his nose. “It’s not my kind of thing, I think. I don’t like it.”
“You’re not exactly my target market,” Keagan says. “The app is doing really well.”
Chris nods. “I’m sure it is. You’re bringing in quite a lot of cash. Now, you just need to find
someone to spend it on.”
I glance at Chris. He’s smiling. I don’t like where this is going.
“I think I can find enough things to do with my money,” Keagan says tightly. He has a feeling, too.
“When are you going to bring back a woman, Keagan? And introduce us to the future mother of your
children? You’re almost thirty, man.”
Keagan raises his eyebrows. I notice my mom is staring at me. I try to ignore her.
“Shouldn’t Susan be the one to tell me how much time I’m wasting not producing grandchildren?”
Keagan asks.
It’s not an answer. I guess his day in front of the press has made him good at answering things
without really saying anything.
Chris shrugs. “I’m just saying, since that Liz woman, you’ve never brought anyone home again. I
don’t want you single for life, son. It’s no way to live.”
Keagan shakes his head. “I think I can decide which way I want to live,” he says.
The double meaning isn’t lost on me. Keagan’s eyes are on me. I feel them burning on my skin. I
don’t want to look up at him. I don’t want to hear any more of this.
“How’s your job search going, Dana?” Chris asks, changing the topic.
I can almost feel Keagan relax. This, I can handle. Chris isn’t nearly as hard on me as he is on
Keagan, and it only takes a few short answers before he’s satisfied.
“I’m going outside for a smoke,” Chris says when the food is finished.
“I’m getting dessert ready,” my mom says and stands up, too. “Dana, will you help me?”
I nod and get up. Keagan starts clearing the table while my mom and I walk to the kitchen.
 “What’s up with Chris tonight?” I ask when we’re in the kitchen and I know Chris isn’t within
earshot.
“He’s in a bad mood,” my mom says. “We lost a client today. It’s not a big deal, but you know how
he gets.”
I nod. I know exactly how he gets. For all my mom’s eccentricities, she’s stable. Chris has mood
swings, and his bad moods are annoying at best.
“I’m sorry about the conversation,” my mom says.
She takes a fruit parfait out of the freezer and hands me a stack of bowls and spoons.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say.
Keagan comes in behind me with the dirty plates and packs them in the dishwasher.
“Sometimes Chris just doesn’t let things go. Don’t let him get to the two of you. You’re beautiful
together.”
Keagan looks up at me. I don’t know what to say.
“Mom!” I say.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “Really. I know it’s weird for you, but I can’t be happier.” She
looks at Keagan. “Really.”
He shrugs, not knowing what to say. It’s awkward in the kitchen.
“I just wish you guys could do whatever you wanted without all the public scrutiny,” my mom says.
I chuckle. “Drop it, Mom. It’s not necessary to worry about it. It won’t ever come to that, anyway.”
“Won’t come to what?” Chris asks, walking into the kitchen.
I shake my head. “Me having to change careers. I’ll find one as a designer. I’m sure.”
The topic change is smooth enough for Chris to buy it. When I look at Keagan, relieved that I
dodged a bullet, he’s staring at me with a strange expression on his face.
“I’m taking this to the table,” I say and leave the kitchen.
The night is turning out to be a disaster. I make a mental note to ask my mom to warn us about
Chris’s moods in future.
I set out the bowls and spoons. In a minute, we’re all around the dining room table again. My mom
dishes parfait, and I put in the spoons and pass the bowls along. When I hand Keagan his bowl, he
mumbles thanks without looking at me.
What’s up with him?
The conversation turns to lighter things. Chris seems to be cheering up, and he’s laughing and joking
again. The atmosphere is lighter, and I’m not so stressed about what might, or might not, show.
Keagan is sullen. He doesn’t speak much. He barely laughs at our silly jokes, and when he can’t get
away without saying anything at all, his answers are short and blunt. It’s like he’s sulking. It’s not hard to
see how much like Chris he can be.
When dinner is finally over and we’ve had our coffee afterward, it’s time to leave. I can’t be
happier to get away. I want to go back to Keagan’s apartment where we can be alone without scrutiny and
do whatever we want to.
I want to be alone with him. I want him to pay attention to me, to touch me, to kiss me. I want him.
The night has been weird, and his distance has increased to the point where even I am starting to believe
our act of not being involved. And I don’t like it.
In the car on the way back, Keagan doesn’t cheer up.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him. “Why are you so down?”
Keagan shrugs.
“My mom was okay, right? I don’t think she’s pushing it too hard. I mean, she’s hiding it from Chris,
which is big of her.”
Keagan nods. I don’t know why he’s being so distant.
“Don’t you want to talk about it?” I ask.
Keagan shakes his head. “There’s not really anything to talk about is there?” he says, and his tone is
a little bitter. “It won’t ever come to that.”
I try to figure out what he’s saying. I realize he’s quoting what I said about us in the kitchen.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask.
Keagan sighs. “I can’t be mad at you for what you want. Or don’t want. I’m just… disappointed.”
I shake my head. I don’t understand. “Disappointed about what?” I ask.
Keagan takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, as if he’s trying to control himself.
“I thought we were still going to talk about it. I didn’t know that you’ve decided you don’t want this
to be any more than it is.”
I frown. “I thought we decided on it together? For the sake of your company and the public image
and everything?”
Keagan sighs again. “I just thought that we would revisit it. I didn’t realize it was set in stone.”
I’m getting irritated with him. “I don’t think it’s fair of you to hold me to something I said to my
mom so that she would get off our backs. I thought you were annoyed with how she was acting. I thought I
was helping.”
Keagan glances at me. “It’s just hard, okay?”
“It’s hard? Do you think it’s any easier for me, hearing Chris refer to Liz like she was some kind of
gift in your life? Or talk about how you need to settle down when I know that he’ll never accept me as
your other half?”
Keagan turns his head to me, frowning. “Is that something you want? Is that where you want this to
go?”
I realize I’ve talked myself into a corner, and I don’t want to go there. This is too much for me.
“All I’m saying is that I don’t know how else to defend us. I was doing what you were doing.
Pretending everything is fine.”
 It looks like I’m also good at answering questions without saying anything.
We fall silent again. There’s nothing left to say. We arrive home and ride the elevator to Keagan’s
floor. He unlocks and locks up again behind us. He marches to his bedroom and closes the door firmly
behind him without saying goodnight.
I walk to my room, feeling emotionally drained. I knew that this wouldn’t be easy when I decided
to follow through with this, but I didn’t realize this was what it would be like. I thought the one thing we
had down was communication.
I close my door and get undressed, pulling my oversized shirt over my head. I put on panties and
crawl into bed. I close my eyes and try to fall asleep as the apartment settles down around us, but I can’t.
 Keagan


Seven Grand Bar on West Seventh Street is a classy place. It’s got a hunting lodge vibe to it and a
wide selection of whiskeys. The latter is why Mason and I frequent the place. We make a habit of meeting
there at least once a month to catch up, if we can’t make plans to see each other any sooner.
We may be working together, but we’re in different departments, and we’re both so busy, it doesn’t
take much to start losing touch with each other.
Mason and I sit at the bar. I’m sipping a Macallan, neat. I don’t often treat myself to the expensive
stuff, but everything is starting to fall into place in my life.
“The phone app is working well,” Mason says.
We released it earlier in the week, and it seems to be a hit. There are surprisingly few bugs but we
still have a lot of work to do.
“Yeah, I’m happy with how things are going,” I say.
“Is that why you’re drinking the good stuff?” Mason asks. “Is it a celebration?”
I shrug. “Something like that.”
Of course, it’s not about work as much as it is about Dana. She’s out with friends tonight. We’re not
spending time together, and I think it’s good, given what we’ve done the last few days. We need a bit of
break, even if it’s just to get our heads straight.
I don’t need a break from her, of course. That would be like suggesting a break from food after
you’ve been starving for years. But I think she needs it. She’s a wildcat in bed, but when we’re spending
time together doing normal things, she seems distant and closed off.
I don’t want to scare her away.
“Something is different about you,” Mason says. He’s sipping a Chivas. It’s not as good as what I’m
drinking, but it’s not a bad drink.
I shrug. “How?”
Mason shakes his head. “I can’t tell,” he says. “It’s like you’re happier, or calmer, or something.
Which is ridiculous because with the app’s release and the press hounding you again, it should be tense.”
I shrug again and sip the amber liquid. Mason narrows his eyes and studies me.
“Everything okay with your parents? With Dana?”
I nod and swirl the whiskey in the tumbler. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Dana is staying with me now.”
Mason raises his eyebrows. “That’s a little fact you forgot to mention. Why is she staying with
you?”
“Financial difficulties,” I say. “I offered her a place to stay for a while.”
Mason nods slowly. A grin spreads over his face. “So, your hot stepsister moves into your house
just after I find out how badly you want to jump her bones? Interesting.”
 He takes another sip of his drink, eyeing me over the rim of his glass. He swallows and purses his
lips. “You tap that, yet?”
I roll my eyes and groan. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist asking. It’s why I didn’t say
anything. God, you’re a dirty fuck.”
Mason chuckles and holds up one hand, his palm turned to me in defense. I watch him raise his
glass to his lips again, lowering his hand.
“And yes, I have,” I add.
Mason chokes on his drink. It dribbles over his chin as he coughs and sputters.
“Tell me I just heard that,” he says when he recovers. He wipes his chin with a napkin.
I shrug, but I can’t help grinning. I was pleased with myself after the first time. I’m not trying to
brag to my friends, but the truth is, I feel like a god.
“Holy shit,” Mason says. “I can’t believe you did it.”
“You were the one that encouraged it,” I say.
Mason nods. “I know. I didn’t think you were going to do it, though. You’re too nice.”
I pull a face. “It doesn’t sound like a compliment when you say it that way. I mean, look at what
happened with Liz.”
I shake my head. I don’t want to think about Liz. I hate that Mason brought her up. The only reason
she managed to rip out my heart was because I was too soft when she was a manipulative bitch. I was too
nice.
“Thanks for bringing her up,” I say sarcastically.
“Sorry,” Mason says. “Poor form.”
Very poor, I think. He’s spoiled my mood.
“Tell me about it,” Mason says. “The sex.”
He’s wise enough not the mention what Dana is to me. There are ears everywhere, even when the
paparazzi aren’t allowed inside. I never know who will run and spill to the tabloids.
I sigh. “God, I don’t even know where to start. She’s a total minx, it turns out. She’s not half as
innocent as she comes across. But not in a bad way.”
Just thinking about her and our sexcapades the past nights makes me hard again. I shift in my seat.
She’s my weakness, turning me on with a mere thought. Not even Liz did this to me, and we were together
three years.
In my mind’s eye, I see Dana naked again, her breasts in my face. Or her lips around my cock, her
eyes looking up at me like something out of a porno.
“So, you’re going to do it again, I gather?”
“Fuck, yeah,” I say.
Mason grins and holds up his glass in a salute. “To the men who dare to go where no other will.”
I shake my head but clink my glass against his.
 “So, what does that mean now?” Mason asks after we both drink to the salute. “Are you going to be
official or what? I assume she feels about you the way you feel about her?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think she’s that serious, to be honest. And I don’t know what I feel for her,
either.” That’s a lie. I have an idea what I feel for her, but I’m not going to tell Mason that. “Besides, the
press will eat this shit up, you know? Especially with how things are going with the business. I don’t think
I can afford a scandal right now, and you know that’s what it’s going to be.”
Mason nods. He finishes his whiskey and signals for another.
“I guess that makes sense. How does she feel about this arrangement?”
“She’s the one that suggested it,” I say.
At the time, I was relieved she still wanted to sleep with me. The more I think about it, the more I
wonder about her reason for asking that we keep it private and purely physical. She’s holding up her end.
There’s no cuddling and being close and holding hands when we’re not fucking.
Mason receives his drink.
“She sounds like the perfect woman,” Mason says. “They all want to get attached, and she’s just in
it for the sex.”
I chuckle and finish my own drink. I signal for another, the same way Mason had, and my glass
disappears, replaced by a refill. They know who I am here, and they serve me faster than I can ask for it.
The perks of being famous, I guess.
I know what Mason is getting at. Usually it’s the women who get attached, and it’s the men who just
want a booty call, a one-night stand, someone on retainer to chase away the blue ball blues. This is
different, though. I want to be with Dana and in more ways than just sex. I want to be able to spoil her a
little, take her out, and maybe buy her flowers. I want to be romantic. I want to care.
And I don’t know if I can.
“So, you’re not going public with this at all,” Mason confirms.
I shake my head. “I can’t. They’ll judge me, and they’ll never leave her alone. After everything that
she’s been through lately, she doesn’t need that, too.”
I sigh. The alcohol has me on that level where I become pensive. I don’t like thinking about it all so
much. I don’t like that Dana sees us as fuck buddies, but I understand where she’s coming from. What
bothers me the most is that I have to agree with her because I can’t see any other way of handling it.
I don’t want the public to know. There is enough scrutiny on me as it is. And I can’t let my dad find
out. Susan might be calm about it all. She’s always been the make-love-not-war type, but Chris is my dad,
and he’s a bit more uptight about everything. I can’t bear to disappoint him, and I know how he’s going to
feel about this.
It doesn’t matter that I liked her before he met Susan. It doesn’t matter that my dreams were ripped
away because he decided to get married to the one woman that ruined my love life. At least, when I was
in seventh grade.
 I just can’t tell him. He still won’t understand.
“You know,” Mason says. “I know this is difficult and everything, and you will always get assholes
opposing you. But you’re old enough to do what you want, and you have more than enough money. You can
do whatever you want. Fuck their judgment.”
I nod. “I know,” I say. “It’s just not that simple. It will affect Dana, too, and it’s not a decision I’m
going to make on my own. I’ve gotten used to cameras in my face, but it was all because I’ve done
something good. If they start to hound us both, because of something we’re doing that they find wrong, it
will just be that much worse.”
Mason shakes his head. “You know I’ve got your back, right?” he asks.
I nod. Mason is a loyal friend, supportive and able to keep a secret. I realized how important that
was after Liz, a woman I had dated before my fame and glory came along. She’d run to the press and told
them things about me.
I was lucky back then. She didn’t expose anything I didn’t want the world to know about. Not
really. But with fame and money in my corner, I learned fast enough who my real friends are and what
loyalty really means.
My phone rings in my pocket. When I pull it out, Dana’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hey,” I say, holding the phone to my ear.
“Hey, I won’t bother you for long,” she says.
I shake my head. “You’re not bothering me. I like hearing from you.”
“Mom and Chris invited us to dinner tomorrow night.”
I’m silent a moment.
“It’s going to be weird, you know that, right?” she adds.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding.
Susan knows, and even though I don’t think she’ll rat us out to Chris, I don’t know how to be around
her or around Dana when she’s watching now.
“Well, I just wanted to let you know. I’ll see you back at the apartment later?”
I don’t know if she’s asking because she just wants to know, or if she’s trying to find out if I’m
going home with someone else tonight. I need to tell her that if we’re sleeping together, no matter how
attached or unattached we might be, I’m exclusive. I don’t want her thinking that I fuck around with other
girls behind her back.
“Of course,” I add. “I’ll see you later.”
We end the call, and I glance at Mason.
“Was that baby love?” he asks.
I shove him, and he laughs.
“We have to go have dinner with the folks tomorrow,” I say. “I’m not looking forward to it.”
“Why not?” Mason asks.
“Because her mom knows,” I say.
Mason raises his eyebrows. “Oh, snap.”
 Keagan


I drift in and out of a restless sleep. Sometimes, only a minute has passed when I look at the clock
again, and sometimes, it’s more than an hour later when I open my eyes again.
I was hoping I could talk to Dana about going public soon. I know that it might damage my career,
but I’m confident enough in my social media program to know that despite my personal scandals, the
venture won’t fail. People are too reliant on new technology and software.
And I want to be with Dana. I hate hiding everything we’re doing. I’ve cared for her for a long
time, and I want to be able to call her mine.
If she doesn’t want it, there is nothing I can do. I didn’t know she was so against it. Her actions, her
sex and the way she is with me, told me a different story.
I know she said those things to Susan to get the woman off our backs. Susan can be a handful, at the
best of times. Dana’s words stung, though, and I don’t know what to make of them. I don’t know how much
what she said is true. Dana is open and honest with her mom about everything. Why would she lie about
something like this, then?
It doesn’t make sense to me.
It bothers me that Dana wants to keep it casual and private. It’s not what I want. I want to be
serious. I want to get into a relationship with her, date her, spoil her, and go the full mile. I want it all.
When I date, I’m the kind of man that will dote on his woman. I can’t do it if we’re restricted to the
apartment. We barely spend time here as it is.
I turn onto my side, trying to get comfortable. Tonight, the sheets scratch against my skin. I’m
irritated and horny. After everything, including the emotional upset, my body still has needs. And it wants
Dana. I want Dana.
My cock grows hard when I think about her, and I move around in bed, turning and turning again to
get comfortable. I lift my head and look at the clock again. It’s three in the morning. I don’t know how
much sleep I got in. Most of it was so light, I don’t think it counts. Still, I’m not tired. I’m wide awake and
I have only one thing on my mind.
In my mind’s eye, I flash on the image that is now my favorite. Dana crouching in front of me, my
cock in her mouth and those big blue eyes staring up at me. I palm my dick and move my hand up and
down. It’s the motion I have done for years to the thoughts of Dana doing something like that to me.
It’s just not the same. I can’t jack off to my fantasies about her, now that I’ve had the real deal. I
can’t do it with her just down the hallway, sleeping in the next room.
I roll over again, frustrated. My cock throbs, and my balls hurt like I’m sexually frustrated. You
wouldn’t think I’d had the best orgasm of my life just two nights ago.
I close my eyes and conjure up more images of Dana’s body. Her curves, her breasts, her nipples.
Her pussy. I lick my lips, and I realize how hungry I am. Hungry for her body.
I get out of bed. I’m only wearing boxer shorts. My cock strains against them, pushing the elastic
away from my body so I can see right into my shorts.
I creep down the hallway, silent as the dead. Moonlight falls into a window with open blinds and
lights my way. I put my hand on Dana’s doorknob and swallow before I carefully turn it. The door opens
without a sound. I let myself in and close the door again.
She hasn’t drawn her curtain, and the moonlight lights up her room more than enough for me to see
by.
Dana is curled on her side, her covers tucked around her waist. She’s small in the middle of the
double bed. I get into bed next to her. The mattress dips under my weight. I lie behind her.
I can hear my heart beating in my ears. I don’t usually do things like this, but Dana’s forward
attitude the other night makes me confident that I can get away with this.
I reach for her and turn her gently. She shifts in her sleep, laying on her back. She stretches her leg
down, the other still pulled up. Her breasts are flatter on her chest without a bra and with her on her back.
I put my hand on her breast and massage it, rubbing my thumb in circles over her nipple through the
material of her t-shirt. She sighs in her sleep. Her nipple responds to my touch and hardens beneath my
fingers.
I slide my hand down her body, over her ribs, her flat stomach and then her hips. When I reach the
hem of her shirt I tug it up. She’s wearing French cut panties, and they look fantastic on her. I tug them
down a little and push my hand between her legs.
She moans when I open her lips and push my finger into her slit. She’s not as wet as she usually is. I
pull up her shirt even further with my other hand, balancing uncomfortably on my elbow, and take a nipple
into my mouth. I suck her nipple and stroke her clit, drawing slow circles. She gets wet as I go along, and
she starts moaning. Her breathing speeds up, even though she’s still asleep.
When she’s wet enough, I push my finger into her and pump it in and out, as much as her panties
will allow. My cock aches with desire, but I won’t fuck her while she’s sleeping. Finger fucking is plenty.
She moans a little louder and opens her eyes. She looks at me, her face confused for a moment. Her
eyes close for a second again as she relishes the feel of my hand between her legs, and a smile spreads
across her face.
When she opens her eyes again, she looks at me and shakes her head.
“You’re being naughty,” she whispers.
We’re alone in the apartment, but something about the quality of the night makes us both stay quiet. I
keep fingering her. She moves her panties down, pulling them off. She pulls her shirt up and over her
head, and then she’s naked, bathing in a pool of moonlight, no sign of self-consciousness at all.
She rolls against me, and my erection presses against her stomach. She frowns and looks down.
“Looks like someone wants attention,” she says.
 She takes my hand and removes it from between her legs. She kisses me before she pushes me to lie
on my back and moves down my body. God, I know where this is going, and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve
been in her mouth before, and the anticipation alone gets me hot and bothered.
She peels my boxers away, and my cock springs free. Her hand wraps around the shaft, and a
moment later, her lips close around my cock. I close my eyes and give myself over to the feeling. She
bobs her head up and down on my cock, taking me into her mouth the way she did at first in the bathtub.
She closes the rest of the distance with her hand. I don’t think she’s at the right angle to deep throat me,
but I’m not complaining.
She’s fantastic at sucking me off.
I’m getting closer and closer. My worked-up state already gave me a head start. When I look at her,
glancing down my body, I nearly come immediately. She’s sitting on my legs, her hair brushing against my
thighs every time she moves down, and I can see my cock sliding in and out of her mouth, glistening with
her spit.
“I don’t want to come yet,” I say, reaching down and stroking her hair.
She slows down her pace and sucks me slowly a few times before she lets me go. I exit her mouth
with a pop.
“What do you want?” she asks me, the way I asked her before. Her voice is almost a whisper and
seductive as hell in the darkness.
“I want to fuck you,” I say. “But first, I want to taste you, too. Fair is fair. A good blow job
deserves a return.”
She smiles, but she shakes her head.
“I don’t mind,” she says.
I sit up and take her by the arms, pulling her toward me.
“I do,” I say and I turn her, laying her down on her back.
She doesn’t fight me. I push her legs open and dive between them, finding her pussy. I lap at it with
my tongue, and she shivers. I lick at her like a lollipop, flattening my tongue and drawing it over her lips,
from her entrance to her clit. She gasps.
I don’t want her to come, either. Not yet. I want her to experience pleasure, anticipation, and
desperation. The same emotions I’m feeling.
I start licking her clit, flicking my tongue over it. Every now and then, I slide my tongue to her
entrance and tongue fuck her a little. I can’t go very deep, but I know the sensation is different because it’s
my tongue. Her moans and whimpers let me know I’m right.
I close my lips over her clit and suck. She squirms beneath me. I press my hand down on her hips
so she will lie still. I push a finger into her, sliding in and out slowly. I don’t want her to orgasm. I want
her just on the edge.
Her moans get louder, her body shudders, and I know she’s getting close. I stop sucking on her and
flick my tongue over her clit again. She jerks. Her scent is in my nose, covering my face, on my fingers,
and it’s driving me crazy. I want her so badly. My cock throbs, and my resolve to make her wait for it is
disappearing. I want to give in myself.
When I can’t bear it anymore, I stop. She moans in protest. I love it when she does. It makes me feel
like I’m still in control. Even though I’m barely holding onto it.
“Bend over,” I command.
Dana sighs, and it sounds like one of pleasure. She rolls onto her stomach and pushes up on all
fours. Her ass points at me, and she’s ready for me. She waits patiently as I admire her ass and her
glistening pussy. I run my hands over her back and her ass, worshiping her body. She’s beautiful.
 Dana


I’m on all fours on the bed, putting myself on display for Keagan. His eyes are on me, and I can
imagine the look on his face without looking over my shoulder to confirm it.
His face will be riddled with lust, already devouring me with his eyes. I stay like this, letting him
look at me, letting him build up his desire for me until it’s unbearable.
I like it when he looks at me like that. It makes me feel sexy. It makes me feel like I have power
over him, rendering him useless until he gets what he needs.
Sex is a game of give and take. So far, we’ve been sticking to the rules and playing fairly. Keagan
seems to like control, to like it rough. I want to see that side of him.
When he tells me what to do, I listen. When he asks for my body, I give it to him. And when he
takes what he wants, I show him that I like it by moaning louder and gasping. Men are instinct driven, and
sounds push them forward.
I don’t have to try very hard to make those sounds, either. Keagan works magic with his hands. And
his tongue. And his cock.
The anticipation is driving me crazy. My skin tingles with my eagerness for his touch. My core
tightens. My body is ready for what he wants to do to me. I take a deep breath and blow it out with a
shudder. I try to picture us. Me on my hands and knees, ready for him. Keagan behind me, with his cock
hard, his eyes drinking in my naked body.
It’s hot as hell.
Keagan shifts on the bed. The mattress dips as he moves and puts his hands on my hips. I love it
when he does this, when he guides me where he needs me. I know he’s positioning himself, lining himself
up to plunge into me. I want it. My body yearns for it.
I thought he was angry or disappointed with me when we came home. He was sulky and sullen and
barely speaking to me. Keagan in a bad mood isn’t pretty, and I’ve known it for as long as I’ve known
him.
But it turns out, he’s over his little fit. He might have slept it off. Maybe he’s restored his own ego.
Whatever it is, he’s here now. He wants me, too.
When his cock pushes against my entrance, I hold my breath. I shiver and wait for him to slide into
me. His cock pushes my walls apart, making a way for itself until he’s buried to the hilt. He’s large, filling
me up. I move my hips, relishing the feel of him.
He’s hard and smooth, all at the same time. I shudder. The feeling of his cock inside of me is pure
bliss. I gasp when he pulls out again, almost all the way, then shoves himself back inside me.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asks into the dark.
I nod. He knows it is. I don’t have to answer him. Whatever happens between us when we’re not
fucking, whatever we disagree about or feel for each other, it all falls away when our clothes come off. I
like that we are just ourselves, that the only things that matter are bliss and pleasure and ecstasy.
He starts fucking me, harder and faster. His cock drives in and out of me. I tip my head back and
moan. He’s going deeper and deeper. My body rocks back and forth, and my breasts swing freely. His
balls slap against my pussy, and I jerk now and then when he nails my clit. The sensation is exactly what
I’ve been waiting for. I moan and cry out and let the sensations sweep me away.
“Fuck, Dana,” Keagan says with a grunt. “I love your pussy.”
His words are dirty, and I love them.
“I love your cock,” I reply, but the words leave in bursts of air, in time with his fucking. “I love it
when you fuck me like this.”
Keagan groans when I talk dirty back to him, saying the same kind of things. There’s something
about talking dirty that heightens everything. For a while, all I hear is our moans, my cries, his balls
slapping my pussy, and the squelching that comes with sex.
The room smells like sex, too, a mixture of my arousal and his masculine scent. And I love it.
Keagan reaches around my hips and finds my clit with his fingers. He rubs it roughly. The sensation,
although crude, creates more pleasure. An orgasm starts building at my core. If he keeps going like this,
I’m going to spontaneously combust.
My arms start giving out. My body goes numb when I get closer and closer. I lay myself down so
that my chest is on the bed. My body slopes up to my ass, still in the air.
Keagan lets go of my clit all too soon and leans forward, his hips pumping relentlessly. He touches
my cheek with his hand, and his fingers graze my lips. I turn my head and take a finger into my mouth,
sucking while he hammers into me from behind. He groans. The finger in my mouth is erotic. The more
parts of my body he engages, the more I enjoy it. When he uses me for his pleasure, it gives me pleasure,
too.
He doesn’t keep this up for every long, either. It’s like he’s searching for something that will tickle
his fancy, something that will push him over the edge. He can keep searching. The sex is great, and
whatever he does, it pushes me further to the edge.
Keagan’s hand slides over my hair. He pushes his hand into my hair and closes his fist, grabbing a
handful of hair. When he pulls, it doesn’t hurt. He’s got enough hair in his fist. He tips my head back
without me being able to stop it.
With my head back, I’m forced to arch my back and stick my ass out farther. My body is pulled into
position, and Keagan uses my hair as leverage to fuck me harder and harder until I’m crying out.
I can’t lie down anymore, my body back in the proper doggy style position. He runs his other hand
over my back, my ribs, my hips, caressing me. His name and other words tumble out of my mouth. I like it
rough. I’ve never had it rough before, and Keagan is showing me what it can be like. He’s taking what he
wants. I want him to take more.
 Keagan seems to know what I want. He pounds into me harder and harder. I arch my back as far as I
can, his grip on my hair tight and unrelenting. I close my eyes and let the wave of ecstasy consume me.
When he’s had enough, he lets got of my hair. I lean forward, gasping. He pulls out, and I feel his
absence acutely. He runs his hands over my hips before he grips me. He flips me over, and I land on the
springy mattress, rolling over so that I’m on my back.
Keagan’s face is tight with concentration. He looks serious. Keagan takes my legs, hands on my
shins, and he holds them together. He puts them up against his chest and over one shoulder. I’m pressed
against him.
I look at him, breathing hard. There is hunger in his eyes and something primal. My ass is lifted off
the mattress enough for him to reach me, and he guides himself with his hand, pushing into me.
I groan and feel him plunge deeper than before.
He pumps in and out of me slowly a few times. It’s for my benefit, I’m sure. So I can get used to
him. Then he picks up his pace. He goes in so deep it almost hurts, but it’s a good pain, and I clench my
jaw and cry out.
My moans erupt in the rhythm Keagan has adopted. He pounds into me hard and fast, holding onto
my legs, keeping me there. I splay my arms to the sides to steady myself on the bed. My breasts jiggle, and
my breathing is fast and shallow.
Keagan is moaning and groaning, too. His lips are parted, and his eyes are on me, sliding over my
body, taking in the sight of me, naked, legs up in the air. I close my eyes and give myself over. I focus on
his cock, stroking over my G-spot. My orgasm builds again. Keagan has a way of postponing my orgasms,
drawing them out, building them bigger and bigger, until they shatter me when they finally happen.
It drives me crazy every time with lust and desperation, but the orgasms are so intense, I don’t want
him to do it any differently.
He’s doing it again now, building another orgasm. I don’t doubt that I’ll be denied a release for a
while longer still. I can see it in his eyes, feel it in the way he fucks me. We’re not close to finished.
The sex is intense. Darkness wraps around us, except for the silver moonlight. The night has a
quality to it that’s different than before. Everything feels surreal. I’m caught in a dream where I’m living
with Keagan, the man who I’ve grown up with as my stepbrother, and we’re fucking. It doesn’t make
sense, but we’re doing it, and I’m letting it happen because it feels so good.
Being around him as often as I am feels so good. I have no idea where we stand. I don’t know what
I feel, and I don’t know what he wants from me besides the obvious. I know that the sex is fucking good
when we have it. For now, it’s all that matters. Right this minute, the pure pleasure trumps everything else.
I will keep doing this, and only this, if that’s what it comes down to.
I can’t think rationally about anything when I’m having the best sex ever, and I can’t be real about
anything when I’m on the edge of a mind-blowing orgasm. I push the thoughts away. I stop thinking and
allow myself to just feel.
 I focus on the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of me, his hands wrapped around my legs, his
eyes on my body.
Keagan is grunting and groaning. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and he has a look of
concentration on his face. It’s endearing when he gets this serious about it.
I close my eyes again.
 Keagan


Fucking her is pure ecstasy. I’ve had sex before, but with Dana, everything is different. It’s like
we’re connected on a deeper level, and that makes everything so much more intense than it already is.
She’s a ton of fun, too. She’s open to anything, and I can test and explore. When she let me grab her
hair and fuck her that way, putting her completely at my mercy, I was ready for her to ask me to stop.
She didn’t.
And now I’m ready to explore more, to try out all the fantasies I’ve had of her. I want to try
different positions and different rooms with her. I want to make up for everything I missed out on.
With her legs, Dana is a sight to behold. Her breasts are beautiful as they wobble back and forth.
Her nipples are tight buttons, just waiting for me to suck on them. But I’m not planning on going there. Not
right now.
I have other things in mind.
I stop pounding her and pull out. She groans in frustration, and I grin. I know she’s been building an
orgasm again. I don’t want her to find a release. Not yet. The longer I draw it out, the more intense her
orgasms get, and I challenge myself to see how far I can push it.
“I want you on top of me,” I say, crawling onto the bed next to her. She smiles.
“Reverse cowgirl,” I add, and her grin grows.
She nods eagerly and sits up. She wants to try new positions with me. If that’s not perfection in a
woman, I don’t know what is. Most women prefer missionary, which is the epitome of dull on the sex
scale. You have to do all the work. You can’t grab their asses because they’re lying on it. And then it’s
over.
Dana isn’t like that, I’m learning.
She gets onto me, her back to me. She straddles me and lifts her ass. I guide my cock to her
entrance, and she sits down on me. I’m deep inside her again, and everything feels different. My cock
pushes up against the natural slant of her body, and the pressure is different. She gasps and moves her hips
back and forth, testing it.
Her back faces me, and I run my hands over it. Her skin is flawless. She starts rocking her hips
back and forth, harder and faster, building friction on my cock. She moans, and I gasp, putting my hands on
her ass. Her cheeks are spread, her legs are on either side of my hips, and I squeeze her ass cheeks as she
rides me harder and faster.
I’m in charge. I like calling the shots. I like when she agrees with me and does what I want to do.
And God, I like this view of her back and her ass. Her body is perfect, but not in a model kind of way.
She has imperfections but they only add to her beauty.
She rides me harder and faster still, her hips bucking back and forth as she fucks me. She cries out,
and I get lost in the sensation of my own orgasm building. This is it. I’m not going to be able to hold on
much longer. She moves her arms, and I realize she’s playing with her breasts, probably tugging at her
own nipples while she’s riding me.
She moves one hand down, and I know she’s playing with herself, fingering her clit while she rides
me. Her body tightens on mine. Ripples that precede her orgasm course through her body. She twitches
and jerks over now and then, and she tips back her head so her medium-length hair hangs down her back a
little farther. I reach up and run my hand through her hair, but I’m not going to hold onto it again. Not this
time.
She moves her other hand down. and a moment later. her fingers find my balls. I jerk in surprise.
The feeling is unexpected, but she caresses my balls, squeezing them lightly while she plays with herself
and rides me. It’s multitasking at it’s very finest. This is why I think women have been given that talent.
Her body tightens more, her walls squeeze down on me, and I know she’s close. Combined with
her ragged breathing and moaning, her orgasm can’t be far off at all. I’m getting closer, too. I try to hold
back, but there’s only so much I can do before my body defies my commands and does what it wants to.
When she orgasms, I can feel it. Her body clamps down on mine, and she leans forward, her body
curling around the orgasm. She cries out before she goes silent, and I know what her face looks like
without seeing it.
I hold onto her ass and start bucking my hips, pumping into her. She’s so damn tight now. She
braces herself with one hand on the bed, her balance shot. I fuck her, hard, and I feel my orgasm building.
When I finally release, it’s violent, and I pump into her, emptying out. My cock quivers and
twitches, and I know that I’m depositing a lot more inside of her than usual. It’s like she draws more out
of me, every time.
Her orgasm lasts, drawn out, until mine stops. She tips her head back, her body relaxes again, and
she breathes hard. I run my hands over her back. Her skin is slick with sweat.
Slowly, she moves off me. I can feel how tight she is now when I slip out of her, and she gasps. She
crawls onto the bed next to me and collapses with a sigh.
“God, Keagan,” she says.
I grin and put my arm around her. She moves onto my chest, and it’s like our bodies were made to
fit together. She lies on my chest, her leg thrown over mine, her face in my neck. Her breathing slows, as
does her pulse, which I can feel on my chest where her body is pressed against mine.
I start to relax as well, my body spent. I close my eyes, and the exhaustion of sex and lack of sleep
slowly starts to catch up with me. My breathing steadies.
Dana’s body twitches, and I know she’s falling asleep.
I kiss her on the head and make a move to return to my own bed, leaving her to sleep. She wraps
her arm around my chest.
“Please, stay?” she whispers.
 I nod and lie back down. She sits up and pulls the sheet over us before taking her place on my chest
again. She sighs, and a moment later, she’s asleep.
I don’t lie awake for much longer. She wants me to stay. There’s more between us than just sex, and
it’s starting to show. If Dana wants to cuddle with me afterward, there’s something between us. Something
more than just physical.
I don’t want to label it or get my hopes up, but until now, I walked away because I wanted to
respect her wishes. If she’s asking me to stay, now, it’s a good sign.
I don’t know where it will lead, but it’s good.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand. It’s just before five in the morning. Birds are starting to chirp
outside, celebrating the pending dawn. Tomorrow, or today really, is Sunday. We can sleep until whatever
time we like, and then get up, get breakfast, and spend the day together.
This is what I want. I want to be with her.
Satisfied, I slip into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When I open my eyes again, the sun is high in the sky, and the day as a quality to it that suggests it’s
been up for a while. When I glance at the clock, it’s noon. Dana lies next to me, her hair spread out on the
pillow, and she’s breathing evenly. I take a moment to study her face. She looks younger when she’s
sleeping, pure. I touch her cheek and press my lips to hers, and she sighs.
I lie back and stretch myself out. My body is a little stiff from the sex, and I can still feel her on my
cock. The feeling is amazing.
“Morning,” Dana says next to me, waking up.
“Afternoon,” I say, smiling at her.
She lifts her head, squinting at me. “It’s that late?”
I nod. “Noon,” I say.
She yawns and stretches out, too. The covers slip from her body, and I look at her. Perfect breasts,
flat stomach, wide hips. The perfect kind of woman.
She sees me looking and smiles at me. She runs her hands down her own body, over her breasts,
her stomach, her thighs, and then into the middle, over her pussy and back up again. Her eyes are on mine,
and her smile is mischievous.
“You’re a tease,” I say.
She giggles and sits up.
“I need to take a shower,” she says. She looks at me. “Join me?”
I nod and get up, following her into the bathroom. She turns on the hot water and steps underneath
the spray. The water runs through her hair, wetting it. I watch her.
The water runs over her skin in droplets, and she looks like something out of a summer ad. She’s
hot. I step into the shower, too, and wrap my arms around her.
We stand under the water together, pressed up against each other, and I caress her, running my hands
up and down her back over her arms. She tips her head up at me, and I kiss her.
I’m hard again, pressing against her, but this not about fucking her. I just want to be with her.
She runs her hands over my body as well. We’re quiet. The only sound is the sound of the shower.
She shampoos her hair, soaps up her body, and she’s wet and slippery. I let my hands slide over her
breasts and her stomach, while she’s busy. My cock throbs, but still, I’m not going to have sex with her
now. I don’t want to ruin the strange, emotional atmosphere that’s building between us.
When we’re both clean, we step out of the shower. She gets dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that
outlines her body. I find the boxer shorts she discarded earlier, and while she combs out her hair, I go to
my room and get dressed.
When we walk to the kitchen, the doorbell rings. I frown and walk to the door, looking through the
peephole. Susan and my dad are on the other side of the door. I stifle a groan.
“Who is it?” Dana asks, coming into the room. Her hair is combed back, and she looks fresh.
“Our parents,” I say.
She frowns. We saw them last night. I don’t think it’s necessary to see them again, but I can’t ignore
them and pretend we’re not here.
I plaster a smile across my face and open the door.
“What a surprise,” I say when they step into the house without invitation.
“We thought we could all have lunch together,” Susan says. “To make up for last night.”
She nudges my dad who shrugs. “I was in a mood yesterday. Susan wants me to make up for it.”
I sigh and look at Dana. Her face is expressionless when she hears the news.
“We brought eggs and bacon,” Susan says. “We guess you’ll have bread.”
“You guessed right,” I say.
I walk to the kitchen. We’re not going to get out of this one.
Susan is already busy in the kitchen. I join her and so does Dana. My dad sits at the breakfast
counter. We all banter along, laughing and joking. Dana makes the toast, and I butter it.
We stand side by side. She nudges me. I smile and nudge her back. When she reaches for more
bread, I get butter on her hand and I laugh.
“Sorry,” I say, taking her hand and close my lips on her skin. I lick off the butter.
She looks at me and shakes her head, laughing. She pulls back her hand and carries on with the
toast. When I turn, I notice my dad’s eyes are on me. I can’t read his face, but my stomach tightens. He
saw that.
We carry on laughing and joking. My dad doesn’t do anything weird, but he watches us. Dana and I
don’t do anything more, but we don’t have to. When it’s finally time for them to leave, my dad walks over
to me.
“Let’s walk ahead,” he says. “I want to have a chat with you.”
I brace myself and follow my dad out the door. Susan and Dana follow behind us, but they’re far
enough away to not hear our conversation.
“What’s going on with you and Dana?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t act dumb. I saw that. And I’m a man. I know what seduction and post-
coital bliss looks like.”
I cringe at the words. “Gross.” I shake my head. “Anyway, I can do what I want, Dad.”
There’s no point in hiding it. He knows.
My dad shakes his head. “You’re right. I just thought I raised you better.”
He walks to the car, leaving me behind. Susan and Dana catch up to me, and Susan hugs me.
“I’ll see you soon,” she says. She follows my dad, and they get into the car.
We wave at them and watch them leave. When they’re gone, Dana leans her head against my
shoulder.
“That wasn’t so bad,” she says.
I nod. It guess it wasn’t. But my dad knows. I don’t think I can tell her that he knows. Or that he’s
very disappointed.
 Dana


On Monday morning, I’m getting dressed for an interview. I can’t believe I’ve gotten another one. I
started giving up hope, but since I’ve moved in with Keagan everything has changed.
I don’t try to fool myself and pretend that it’s not largely about him. He’s been more than nice to me
about my situation, perfectly gallant and treating me like a lady, and he’s been delicious in bed.
I’m luckier than lucky.
But as I get ready for my interview, I’m nervous. My stomach is in a tight knot. The few interviews
I’ve been to since I lost my job have not worked out. It’s difficult to stay confident after a string of
rejections like that.
My phone rings, and it’s Keagan. I pick up, already smiling.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Nervous. What if I don’t get it?” I’m worried that I will become a burden. I’m already invading
his personal space, even though he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Then we try again. You can stay with me as long as you need. You know that.” It’s like he’s
reading my mind. “But I believe in you, and I’m sure it will go well. If they don’t hire you, they’re blind
to your talent.”
He’s always been great at pep talks. I smile and thank him. When we hang up, I feel a little better
about it. I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly.
I get in my car and turn on the radio so music swirls around me. It’s not too loud, just enough to take
the edge off. I type in the address and let my GPS guide me through town.
My mind isn’t on the interview or the questions they might ask and the answers I might give. It
should be, but it’s Keagan that I’m thinking about. He’s on my mind a lot these days. My mom is being
strange about my relationship with him. She’s always been open-minded, but she’s actively encouraging
it, and it’s awkward. It’s a little too much for me. I know Keagan is irritated with it as well. The whole
thing is a difficult topic, especially when they barge in on our personal time like that.
Not that they knew it was personal. My mom may have known, but not Chris.
I’m not sure what’s going on between him and Keagan. I noticed that Keagan was upset after they’d
spoken, but he didn’t tell me anything. I know better than to push him to open up before he’s ready to tell
me. Living in the same house as him for years has given me an advantage in this relationship that others
don’t have.
I shake off the thought and scold myself for it. It’s not a relationship. Casual sex. We agreed on that.
I’m not going to make it any more complicated than it already is.
Whatever is going on between Chris and Keagan, I’m going to trust that he’ll tell me if he wants me
to get involved. It’s the least I can do, seeing that I’m already imposing on every other level of his life.
 Finally, I pull up in front of the building where I’m to be interviewed. I swallow hard and force
myself to take deep, slow breaths. I’ve done this a million times. I know what interviews are like. I know
how to handle questions, and I know who I am as a designer.
Like Keagan said, I have talent.
I walk into the offices of Golden Image Designers and walk to the front desk.
“I’m here for an appointment with Julia,” I said.
The receptionist smiles politely and looks me up on the system.
“Dana White?” she asks.
I nod. She points me down the hallway, explaining which way I need to go. I follow her instructions
and find the waiting area where I’ve been told to wait. I sit down on a deep red leather couch and clutch
my handbag on my lap. My portfolio rests against the side of the couch.
No matter how many interviews I do, I’ll never get used to being scrutinized. And it’s always
strange to walk into an unfamiliar office with the express goal of having them invite me to work there.
“Dana?” a woman’s voice calls.
I turn in my seat to look at her. She’s got long brunette hair that curls over her shoulders, and she’s
wearing a black and red power suit that accentuates her figure beautifully. She walks toward me, and I
like her already.
“I’m Julia Summers,” she says and holds out her hand. I take it.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Summers,” I say.
“Oh, Julia is fine. Follow me.”
I follow Julia through the maze of corridors until we reach her office. She closes the door behind
me and tells me to sit down.
“Tell me about yourself,” she says. “Tell me why you design.”
They never ask me such personal questions. I let my mind slip back to the reason I started.
“I design because I was born to create,” I say. “And there’s something so satisfying about a
beautifully created space.”
I elaborate a little on why I specialized. She asks me how I would approach clients, how I would
handle pressure and deadlines, and finally, she asks to see my portfolio.
I hand it to her, and she opens it up. Her eyes flicker over my work, and I feel raw and vulnerable.
This is the most intimate part of me. I poured out my soul on those pages, and for someone else to study
my work for flaws is never easy.
Finally, Julia looks up at me.
“You have a unique flare,” she says. “We can use that at Golden Image.”
I swallow. A compliment is always good.
“Let me be straightforward with you, Dana,” she says, closing my portfolio and handing it back to
me. “I want you to work for us.”
 I blink at her. “Just like that? I mean, no second interview or anything?”
Julia shakes her head. “I know talent when I see it, Dana. I would be a fool to let another company
scoop you up.”
I nod slowly, trying to process exactly what’s happening.
“I’ve got the job?” I ask.
Julia smiles. “You’ve got the job.”
She stands up and holds out her hand across the desk. I shake it in a daze.
“Thank you,” I say. I’m a little stunned.
“Lisa, my secretary, will be in touch with you soon to arrange contracts and your starting date.”
I nod, thank her again, and leave the office. I feel like I’m walking on air. I can’t believe it. Did I
just get a job? It’s only been a month since I was fired and I lost my home, but it feels like a lifetime. And
it’s finally over.
When I’m in my car again, I close my eyes and let out a deep breath, as if I’ve been holding it for a
long time. I dial Keagan’s number and my car’s Bluetooth picks up my phone. When he answers, his voice
is all around me.
“I got it,” I say. “I got the job.”
I can hear him smiling when he answers. “I knew you were brilliant. We have to celebrate this.”
“Tonight?” I ask.
“Let’s start right now,” he says. “Come to lunch with me. I’m here with Mason.”
I nod. “I’ll be right there. Where are you?”
My phone beeps with a location, and I end the conversation. They’re not too far from me, and I
head over.
Blu Jam café is always busy around lunch time, and I walk in, telling the waiter I’m meeting
someone. Keagan and Mason are in a booth against the wall. The café has a light, modern feel to it with
white walls and floors and light brown and black furniture. I hug Mason before I sit down next to Keagan
on the black leather booth seat.
“Congratulations,” Keagan says, giving me a hug. He kisses me on my cheek and butterflies erupt in
my stomach.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Aww, come on. Lay a fat one on her lips. Don’t be shy,” Mason says.
I stare at him, confused. When I glance at Keagan, he shrugs. So Mason knows. They’re good
friends. If Keagan decided to tell him, it should be all right. I trust Keagan’s judgment.
“I’m glad you two finally decided to admit you were meant to be together,” Mason says in a teasing
voice. I can’t tell if he’s joking or serious. He looks from me to Keagan, as if he’s expecting a response.
“It’s just casual sex, Mason,” I say when Keagan doesn’t say anything. “No big deal.”
Mason frowns at me and looks at Keagan. “That’s not what I heard.”
 Keagan kicks Mason underneath the table.
“That wasn’t necessary,” Mason grumbles.
I look at Keagan. “What was that all about?” I ask.
Keagan shakes his head. “Mason’s just being an idiot.”
Mason doesn’t look happy, but he doesn’t say anything. I don’t know what’s going on, but I have an
idea that Keagan told him things he hasn’t told me. My insides burn with curiosity, but I decide not to push
things right now. I’m in too good of a mood from getting a new job, and I don’t want to ruin it.
I don’t stay to eat with them. I have a coffee and leave them to it. I don’t know how I feel about
what Mason said. I know I feel more for Keagan. This doesn’t feel like just a casual thing to me. But
Keagan has a reputation to uphold, and even though we liked each other before our parents got married,
the rest of the world won’t see it that way.
If I’m going to be involved with him sexually, I’m going to have to stop having feelings for him. I
don’t know if I can do that. Fighting my growing feelings for him is like trying to fight gravity or the
changing tides.
I stop at my mom’s studio next to share the good news with her. Chris is on his way out of the door
just as I walk toward it. I hug him and tell him about my new job just before he leaves to see another
client. He says he’s thrilled for me.
When I walk into the studio, my mom sits on one of the couches with an art book.
“There you are,” she says with a smile when I bend down to hug her.
“I got a job,” I say.
She reaches up and squeezes my hand. “I always knew you could do it. You never disappoint me.”
I smile and sit down beside her.
“What’s wrong?” my mom asks, even though I walked in with good news.
Is it that obvious that I have something on my mind? I shrug. “It’s nothing serious.”
“Is it about Keagan?” she asks.
She knows me far too well for me to be able to hide anything from her.
“This is so weird, Mom,” I say. “With you knowing what’s happening and pushing about it all the
time. Shouldn’t we not talk about it?”
My mom smiles. “I know you can’t discuss this with your friends. It’s good to have someone to talk
to, at least.”
I sigh. Maybe she’s right. My friends would flip out about what’s happening before I would be able
to ask for advice or help.
“Talk to me,” my mom says.
So, I do.
“I think I need to break it off with Keagan.” I say the words that have been spinning in my mind
since Mason’s comment.
 My mom frowns. “Why?”
I shake my head slowly, trying to figure out what I’m thinking and feeling. “Because I’m scared I’m
developing feelings for him. You know?”
I don’t want to admit that I’ve already developed feelings for Keagan, deeper feelings that go
beyond just casual fun. And I certainly don’t say that it is because we are fucking. Saying it out loud to my
mother, even when she knows, is still weird.
My mom looks at me, and her face is hard to read.
“Why is it wrong to feel something for him?” she asks.
I groan. “I don’t even have to go into that with you. The stepbrother thing isn’t going to go down
very well with the public, considering his reputation.”
My mom shakes her head.
“That shouldn’t matter. If you both feel the same for each other. You have talked to him, right?”
I can’t exactly tell him that I am falling for him when I am the one that decided to keep it at casual
sex. Besides, I don’t even know for sure if I really am falling for him, or if it is just a silly crush. I hope it
is the latter. It would be so much easier to deal with.
“Talk to him,” my mom says. “Before you do anything. You’ll find that choices are so much easier
when you’re open about how you feel.”
I nod, even though I’m not certain about her advice. Baring my soul to Keagan would be difficult.
I’d be putting myself out on a limb, making myself vulnerable. My mom can tell me how easy it is, but she
isn’t the one that isn’t sure what she feels for her stepbrother or how she should go about dealing with it.
 Keagan


After seeing Mason, work suddenly became chaotic. Something went wrong with a system, and I
had to slave away with my team to sort it out as quickly as possible. When something goes wrong with a
social media platform, the world goes mad. Not only is it poor form, but users are selfish and won’t
allow for mistakes.
By the time I pull into my parking space, my head feels like sponge, and it throbs dully between my
temples. I’ve been in meetings all day, arguing back and forth about what would be the quickest route to
take. When I wasn’t arguing, I was staring at a screen, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong.
The smell of food lingers in the corridor leading to my front door, and I breathe in deeply. Living in
an apartment building has its downsides. I hate it when I can smell everyone else’s supper, and I still have
to go inside and cook my own.
When I push open the front door, the smell of food greets me, and the apartment feels warm and
cozy. Dana is busy in the kitchen, and I spot pots on the stove. A carving board with a half-chopped salad
sits on the counter.
“I’m home,” I say.
Dana turns around and smiles when she sees me.
“Perfect timing,” she says. “We can eat in five.”
I look at the food again.
“This is nice.”
She nods, smiling. “I thought I would do something nice for you, since you’re being so kind, letting
me stay here.”
I scrutinize her face. I’m not sure what to make of her good mood. Earlier today, when Mason made
that comment about us possibly being more than casual, her reaction was guarded. She ended up not
staying for lunch, fleeing after her coffee. A part of me thought that she would still be upset when I came
home.
She doesn’t seem upset at all.
“Go get changed into something more comfortable while I serve everything,” she says.
I must admit, coming home to a warm apartment with food almost ready is a great feeling. It gives
me a taste of what it might be like if we were really together. I push the thought away. I can’t get my hopes
up. I don’t know where we stand, and putting that kind of pressure on her and expecting something more is
unfair.
I change out of my work clothes and into jeans and a t-shirt. When I rejoin Dana in the living room,
the plates are steaming with a home cooked meal. She made rice, a stew of some kind, and a salad.
“This looks great, Dana,” I say and sit down on one of the bar stools at the counter. She pushes my
plate toward me, hands me a knife and fork, and she walks around the counter and sits down on the
barstool next to me.
I spear a piece of meat with my fork and put it in my mouth.
It tastes like heaven.
“I appreciate the effort,” I say, and take another bite. “This is delicious.”
“I was hoping we could sit down and just spend some time together,” she says. “We live in the
same apartment, and sometimes we still manage to forget to communicate.”
I wonder if that is because of how much sex we’re having when life doesn’t get in the way. I don’t
say it, though.
Dana makes small talk, asking about my day and how I managed to fix the crisis at work. I tell her
what happened, and she listens attentively. Then she tells me about her interview and how relieved she
feels having finally found a job. The conversation falls quiet for a while.
She clears her throat. “Can I ask you something?” she asks.
I nod.
“What would it mean for you to go public with this… thing that’s happening between us?”
I look at her. It’s a big question to ask.
“Well,” I start. “Seeing that I’m a public figure, so to speak, there will be a reaction. Some won’t
like it.”
“How will it affect Sociable?” she asks.
I think about it for a second, before I shrug. “I don’t think it will affect it that much. We’ll be a
scandal for a while, but in the business world, these things don’t mean as much as in the entertainment
world. Besides, the platform is popular right now. I doubt I’ll be boycotted because people don’t like
something in my personal life.”
Dana nods slowly. She’s pushing her food around on the plate.
“Why, are you going thinking about going public?” I ask.
When she glances up at me, she looks shy, unsure.
“I was just asking,” she says.
I turn to her, my food forgotten for the moment. “You made it clear we weren’t together like that,
Dana,” I say.
She shrugs. “I didn’t know that this was more than fucking to you. We agreed on something. I didn’t
think it meant anything more.”
I reach for her hand. “You’ve always been more to me. Being with you isn’t just some kind of dirty
fantasy.” I hesitate and then grin. “At least, it’s not just a dirty fantasy.”
She smiles, but she still looks conflicted.
“Talk to me,” I say and reach for her, brushing my knuckles against her cheek.
She takes a deep breath.
 “What did you tell Mason about me?” she asks.
“I’m glad you want to know,” I say. When I told Mason, I didn’t mean for him to reveal it to her
directly. “I told him that I’ve always wanted to be with you, and that it was more than me just being horny
and perverted. You’ve always been special to me.”
“I didn’t think this was more than just sex,” she says again.
I shrug. “It is. I can’t help it. You’re amazing.”
She smiles. Her cheeks color and dimples appear. She’s beautiful when she blushes.
“You’ve never told me this before,” she says.
I nod. “You’re right. I didn’t know how to. I didn’t know how you would feel. Until now, you’ve
been the biggest secret crush in my life, a fantasy that I could turn to, but never realize.”
She blinks at me. Her blue eyes are large and serious. She’s drinking in everything I’m telling her.
“The ball’s in your court now,” I say.
“My court?” She frowns and turns back to her food. She jabs at a piece of potato with her fork and
studies it without eating it. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do. But if you want to do this,
if you want to take this further, it’s what I want, too.”
She finally takes a bite. I look at my own food and take a few more bites while she’s quiet and
thinking. I’m almost done with my food when she looks at me again.
“It’s going to ruin your reputation,” she says. “You’ve had a clean slate until now. Even Liz ended
before you became Mr. Famous, so they had nothing they could point at. If this comes out, it has the
potential to be a huge scandal.”
I nod. “I know. But I still want to be with you.”
She takes a deep breath.
“Look,” I carry on. “What we feel for each other is all that matters. We’re not related, and we liked
each other way before our parents got together. We are adults, and we can decide what we want.”
“You make it sound so easy,” she says.
I put my hand on her cheek, cupping it. Her eyes find mine.
“It is that easy,” I say. “We do what we want to do, and if the world doesn’t like it, well, fuck them.
They can’t make us be any different than we are, and they won’t change what we feel.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t stick.
“And if things get harder?” she asks. “What if the tabloids say terrible things, and it does end up
affecting your job, and everything goes wrong?”
I shake my head until she stops talking. “I’m not going to bail on you. I’ve never bailed on you,
right?”
“You’ve always been a friend, a brother.”
I nod. “And even then, it was important to me to be there for you. It’s not going to change. No matter
what they say about me, I’m still going to be the same man, and I’m still going to feel the same about you.”
She leans her cheek into my hand. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes are still unsure.
“Let me prove it to you,” I say.
“How?”
“This Friday. We’re going out to celebrate your new job. Let’s go out to a restaurant. Together.
None of this hiding and arriving separately nonsense. We’ll go out together. It will hit the public by storm,
and I can prove to you that I don’t care about what they say.”
“You want to do it so soon?” she asks.
“I don’t want to wait. I want to show you that I am serious. There is no reason to wait. I don’t need
give our relationship more time or slowly build up to a big reveal. I know what I want.”
Finally, she nods. “You look so sure about everything,” she says. “It’s why everyone always listens
to you and follows you.”
I shake my head. “I look this sure about it because I am this sure about it. There’s nothing else to
it.”
She smiles, and this time, it looks sincere, calm, and happy. It’s what I want from her. I want her to
feel that I’m here for her, that I’ll make it work if I put my mind to it. If Dana feels this way about me, I
couldn’t have dreamed of a happier ending, and I will do what I need to do to make this work.
I’ve always been a problem solver.
Now that we’ve talked about things, Dana relaxes, and we finish our meal, talking and laughing
about trivial things again. My stomach is tight, though. I am suddenly nervous. I have no doubt that this is
what I want, and I will go through with it as promised, but it’s a big step. It won’t be easy.
When we’re done eating, we wash the dishes together, pack away leftovers, and head off to bed.
Dana kisses me goodnight and walks to her room.
“Dana,” I call after her. She turns to look at me.
“Come sleep in my bed tonight.”
I want her with me. I don’t even want to fuck. I just want her to be with me so I can wrap my arms
around her. I am overwhelmed with emotion, and I want her warmth pressed against me and the sound of
her breath in my ear.
She nods and disappears to change her clothes. When she’s finished, she comes to my room. I’m
already in bed, and I lift the covers for her. She pads across the carpet and climbs into bed. I switch off
my bedside lamp, and the room plunges into darkness. Dana lays against me, and her body heat soothes
me the way I needed it to.
She cuddles against my chest and throws an arm over me. The smell of her is in my nostrils, and her
curvy body melds into mine. My body responds automatically, and my cock hardens, but this is not what
being this close to her is about right now. I kiss her on her hair, stroke her arm, and close my eyes.
 Dana


My stomach twists and turns in a fit of nerves. Tonight, Keagan and I are going public with our
relationship. It’s a huge night for the two of us, the night where our lives change forever.
I know this is what I want. I’ve been thinking about it the whole week. But I also know that this
won’t happen without difficulty. A lot of people won’t understand our choices or agree with them.
It doesn’t matter, though. I need this. We both do.
I make an appointment at Butter Nails and Waxing for eleven. I want to look and feel my best for
tonight. When I dress invincible, I feel like I can handle anything, and I want to look good for Keagan, too.
One way or another, he and I will remember this night for the rest of our lives. I might as well dress up for
the occasion.
I like getting pampered. It’s a treat to go to a salon, and I like spending some time indulging myself
with a little luxury. But today, it’s a little tainted. The underlying nerves about what we’re going to do is a
constant reminder that my life is going to change soon.
I know it’s what I want, but there have been so many changes already. It’s hard to keep up.
My phone rings and I answer.
“Miss White?” a woman says on the other end of the line.
“Yes?”
“I’m Lisa, I’m calling on behalf of Julia Summers at Golden Image.”
“Right,” I say and smile. I was impatiently waiting for her call.
“Julia wanted me to ask if you’re able to start with us this Monday?”
“Of course!” I couldn’t believe they were fast-tracking me. This was great news.
I heard the secretary chuckle. “That’s great, Miss White. I’ll let Julia know, and we’ll finalize the
contracts when you come in.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up. I look at my screen, and my stomach turns with a different kind
of nervous excitement.
When I leave the salon, I feel fresh, beautiful, and accomplished, especially knowing that I have the
job and I’m starting on Monday. My legs are smooth, my nails are stunning, and I know what I’m going to
wear. I’ve chosen to wear a wrap dress the color of beach sand. It reaches just below my knee in a
modern Gatsby style, but with a modern flare and diamante along the front. I got a pair of nude strappy
heels with it.
I get ready, and I’m almost done when Keagan comes home. He calls a hello through the door and
disappears to his own room to get ready, too.
I tie my hair back in a half-up, half-down style and put on earrings that match the diamante on my
dress. Smokey eyes, a salmon lipstick, and I’m good to go. When I step out of the room, Keagan is just
coming out of his. His eyes rake up and down my body, and they widen in surprise. He smiles.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” he says, coming toward me.
He cleans up very well, too. He’s wearing a dark suit that makes his eyes stand out, a crisp white
shirt, and a champagne tie that goes very well with my dress. It’s like we planned it. His shoes are
polished so perfectly I can almost see myself in them.
Keagan leans forward and kisses me. His lips touch mine tenderly, and his hands are on my elbows.
He’s being careful, respectful. This is the complete opposite of the wild sex we’ve been having, when he
kisses me like he’s trying to find another way to enter me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. My stomach turns.
“Nervous,” I say.
Keagan nods. “I know. Me too. But this is going to be great, okay?”
I nod and fully trust him. So far, everything he told me would be okay, turned out okay. That’s all I
need. Keagan is someone I can rely on, and it means a lot to me.
“The reservation is for eight, so we have a bit of time,” Keagan says, walking to the kitchen. “How
about a glass of wine before we go, to take the edge off?”
“God, that would be great,” I say.
I follow him to the kitchen where he chooses a bottle of wine from the wine rack in the corner. He
takes out two glasses and pours one for each of us.
“I got a call from work today,” I say. “They want me to start on Monday.”
Keagan looks up at me, his face surprised.
“So soon? That’s great news.”
I nod, smiling. I’m nervous about tonight and nervous about my new job, but it is good news, and
things are finally starting to work out.
“Where did you say this job was again? I forgot the name.”
He hands me a glass of wine, and I sip the red liquid. It runs thick down my throat.
“They’re called Golden Image,” I say. “It’s a corporate interior design place.”
Keagan freezes, his eyes on me, the glass lifted halfway to his lips. He lowers it again.
“Are you serious?” he asks.
I nod, suddenly anxious. “Why?”
Keagan shakes his head. “This is bad,” he says.
I don’t understand. I shake my head, urging him to explain.
“I had a fling with an HR Rep a while ago, Bianca. Things did not end well between us. And she
works for Golden Image, Dana.”
I blink at him. “So?” I’m not fully grasping the problem.
He frowns. “So, she might be holding a grudge against me. If we go public and Bianca finds out,
she might use our relationship as an excuse not to hire you. She can throw her weight around. She’s HR,
after all.”
“You’re sure about this?” I ask. “About her working there?”
Keagan nods. “I went with her to a year-end function. I’m sure.”
Blood drains from my face. I feel like I’m going to be sick. My blood is on fire, even though I only
had one sip of wine.
“So, we can’t go public,” I say.
Keagan shakes his head. “Not just yet.”
I feel like I’m going to cry, and it makes me feel like an idiot. Keagan must see it on my face
because he walks around the counter to me and puts his hand on my cheek.
“Hey,” he says. “Just because we can’t go public tonight doesn’t change what we feel, right? We’ll
just have to play this right. It’s not a big deal.”
I nod and let him kiss me, a chaste kiss, no tongue. I want to believe him that it’s not a big deal, but
I worked myself up to going public the whole week. I feel like the rug has been yanked out from under me.
Is it just back to real life, now? I guess so.
I’m lying in bed. There’s so much more going on in my life right now, but all I can think about is
Keagan. He looked amazing tonight, and when he dresses like that, it always makes me picture his body
beneath his clothes.
It’s a big mess, between my job and his reputation and what we feel for each other. As confusing as
things are, the one thing I know for sure is that I want him. I know that I need him. From the moment he
came onto me in my old apartment, I’ve needed him.
And it’s not getting any better. Wrong or right, these feelings I have for him aren’t going away. Not
any time soon, anyway. And they’re impossible to suppress.
I consider going to him tonight, but I decide against it. We aren’t fighting, but we went to bed upset.
I don’t want it to look like I think sex cures everything.
I’m horny. My skin is on fire, and all of my nerve endings are alive. I pull off my clothes and run my
hands over my body. The light is on, and I look down my body. My nipples are tight when I run my hands
over my breasts.
I pinch them, tweaking them the way Keagan does, and I gasp. Heat rushes through my body and
pools between my legs. I’m getting wetter and wetter. I want Keagan inside of me, to fill me up. I want
him to hammer into me until I cry out.
I dip my finger into my slit and slide it over my clit. My body jerks when I touch the most sensitive
part of me.
I push my finger inside of me and drag it over my clit again, spreading my wetness. I can only think
of sex with Keagan, the way he makes me feel, and the way he fucks me.
My breathing is fast and shallow. I swallow hard, and my lips are dry. I touch myself with rising
intensity, but I’m still unsatisfied. My own fingers aren’t nearly enough to still the ache between my legs.
I get up from my bed and walk to the boxes in the corner. I unpack one, taking out objects until I find
the black package I stowed neatly near the bottom. I retrieve the finger sleeve, a rubber toy that fits over
my finger with nubs and a vibrating tip. I lay back on my bed.
I don’t need lubrication from my stash. I’m wet enough as it is.
I don’t switch on the vibrator just yet. I like teasing myself, working my way up to a frenzy instead
of taking the plunge right away.
With the sleeve on my finger, I run it over my clit and shiver. The nubs are silicone, but I’m
sensitive, and they feel more intense than they really are.
I dip my finger into my pussy again, sliding in and out a few times. I gasp, relishing in the feel.
When it’s slick with my own juices, I slide it over my clit a few times again, riding up and down my slit
with it, just feeling the nubs and the sensation they create.
After a while, I switch on the vibrator. The vibrator makes a soft humming sound. The sensations
pulsate through my finger, and I press the tip against my clit. I jerk and moan softly. My breathing is fast
and shallow, interrupted by panting moans. I play with the vibrator on my clit, sliding around in slow
circles. When I feel I’m close to an orgasm, I pick up the pace, impatient for a release.
The door clicks open, and I freeze. Keagan steps into my room. His eyes are on my body, and I can
see the hunger grow in his face. Should I stop?
I don’t want to. I want a release.
Keagan licks his lips, his eyes greedily sliding over my bod, taking in the sights. He likes what he
sees. I move my finger again, and I run the vibrator of over my clit. I gasp through parted lips. My eyes
are on Keagan’s, but his eyes are glued to my pussy and what I’m doing to myself.
Slowly, as if pulled by a magnet, he moves closer to me. I run my other hand over my breast,
tugging at my nipple. Keagan gets onto the bed. He reaches for my pussy and stops my hand. Slowly, he
lifts my hand away from my body and the vibrator buzzes angrily in the air.
Keagan slips the vibrator off my finger and onto his own. His eyes find mine for a moment, and his
pupils are so dilated they practically consume the blue of his irises.
He moves his hand closer to my pussy, touching the vibrator to my clit. I jerk at the feeling and
gasp. He leans into me so that his body is pressed against mine. His chest leans against one breast, and his
cock strains against my hip bone through his boxers.
Keagan takes over, sliding the vibrator over my clit, down my slit, and into my entrance just enough
to drive me crazy, before he pulls it back again. He follows this intoxicating pattern a few times, keeping
me on the edge, but denying me the orgasm I crave.
“Please, Keagan,” I whisper, pressing my face against his neck when another shudder rocks my
body.
He moves back a little, and his lips find mine. His tongue slips into my mouth, and he explores me,
licking and tasting. He focuses his finger on my clit and draws circles around it, making me shudder. He’s
not moving away or changing the pace. He’s not denying me anymore.
The orgasm builds hot and fast, and my legs are numb. My core clenches, and the orgasm rocks
through me. I cry out, my voice muffled as I press my face against Keagan’s shoulder. My whole body
spasms as the orgasm rips through me. I gasp and moan, shudder and convulse, as he relentlessly assaults
my pussy with the finger sleeve.
 Keagan


When I find Dana in her room, playing with herself, it takes everything I have not to take her
immediately.
But I don’t. Instead, I join in her play, and I help her orgasm. When she’s done convulsing, the skin
on her breasts is flushed red, and the final strands of her orgasm leave her body in a shudder. She’s
breathing hard. My cock strains against my boxers. I’m throbbing, aching, and I need to be inside of her.
I sit up and move to the edge of the bed so I can work my boxers down my legs. My cock springs
free, and the tip is already glistening from my excitement. When I look up at Dana, she’s eyeing my dick,
and her face is stricken with lust. God, it’s one of the hottest looks in the world.
She crawls over the bed to me, her breasts swinging and her hair brushing her shoulders. She gets
off the bed and stands in front of me, facing away from me so I have a beautiful view of her ass, round and
full.
She bends over a little, sticking her ass out to me, and I grab her cheeks, kneading them. My eyes
are on her pussy. Her lips glisten with wetness, and I want to plunge into her depths.
As if I said it out loud, she bends her legs and hovers her ass over my lap. My cock strains to reach
her, and I grip myself at the base, holding myself in position for her. She lowers herself onto me, and we
groan in unison when I slide into her. She’s so tight. Her walls grip me, and she’s so hot it’s like her
insides are on fire.
She’s positioned between my spread legs. Her hands are on my thighs, just above my knees,
balancing herself. She wiggles a little, getting used the feel and the angle. She pushes herself up again
slowly, sliding me out of her until only the tip remains. She pauses only a second before she starts the
torturously slow descent down again.
She takes her time working her body up and down my cock, and I’m hyperaware of her movements.
Her arms strain on my knees, and her pussy opens for me. Her walls give way enough to let me in, before
we reverse the process and almost start at ground zero again.
It’s driving me crazy. I want to pound into her. I want to fuck her hard and release inside of her.
This slow, erotic torture, wonderful as it may be, is driving me mad.
When I can’t handle it anymore, I grab her hips and hold her down when she tries to move. I gyrate
my hips and undulate inside of her. She gasps. Her hands are still on my knees, but she’s not able to lift
herself up again. I do the moving for her.
I buck my hips and bounce her on my lap, fucking her on top of me. Her hair bounces, and her
breath is forced out of her chest every time she comes down on me. Her moans become rhythmic as I fuck
her from beneath her, and her nails bite into my knees, a sign that she’s losing control.
I like it when she loses control. Every time we do it, I learn something about her. I know how to
read her better now. I know when she’s getting closer. I know when she’s getting swept away with
passion.
She bounces on top of me, and I can feel the tip of my cock bury deep inside her. She cries out
louder, and her moans reverberate in the room. For a moment, I wonder about my neighbors, but the
thought doesn’t linger for very long. Some women find it uncomfortable when you hit the deepest depth of
them, but Dana doesn’t seem to feel the same. Her cries are not of pain, but of pleasure.
I get lost in the sensation of having her grind over my cock. No matter how many times we have
sex, it’s always amazing. Whether it’s fast and hard, or slow and lingering, being with Dana is an exotic
fantasy that never stops thrilling me.
When we first started, I thought that the excitement might fade, that as we went along, it would
become more run-of-the-mill. I never feel like that. Every time I’m inside her, it’s better than I remember,
sexier than I could imagine, and every time we’re done, I’m satisfied. But at the same time, I feel her
absence acutely.
Her cries become louder and louder, taking me out of my head and bringing me back to the moment.
“Shh, baby,” I say, brushing a hand down her cheek. “Not too loud.”
She gasps, letting out a low moan that hitches with every thrust. I run my hand over her jaw and
down her neck. Her neck is slender, and my hands are large enough for me to wrap my fingers around it
with ease.
I don’t do anything drastic. I don’t squeeze. But having my hand on her neck, having her in my
control like this, is another level of hot. She moans, and the sound fills me with unbridled lust.
She clearly feels the same way.
I press my lips against her back and kiss her shoulder blade. I lick and kiss her writhing body,
feeling her and touching her while I’m fucking her. Her gasps are erratic now. I think she’s getting closer.
I don’t want her to come. Not yet. I want her to wait for me. Denying her an orgasm, making her
wait for it and work for it, ensures that it’s so much more intense in the end. And I want that.
I want it to be as intense for her as it is for me.
I slide my hand further down her body and find her breasts. I grab one and squeeze it. Her breasts
bounce up and down when she does. I knead her soft flesh, massaging it hard. She gasps when I do.
I find her nipple and pinch it, tugging lightly at it and rolling it between my thumb and forefinger.
My other hand is still on her hip, and I keep moving her up and down, pounding into her by bucking my
hips. She’s moving her hips as well, rocking back and forth to accommodate my movements, and I know
she’ll keep riding me like that. I don’t need to encourage her.
I remove my other hand from her hip and reach up for her other breast as well, so that I’m holding
onto her, squeezing, pinching, rolling, and kneading. Her breath leaves her mouth in quieter gasps, as if
she doesn’t have the energy to moan out loud, or as if the sensation of being balanced between my hands
and my cock is too distracting altogether to let her concentrate on being loud.
 I stop moving and let go of her breasts, hugging my arms around her chest instead.
“Turn around,” I say into her ear. “I want to see your beautiful face.”
She smiles at me over her shoulder and presses herself up on wobbly legs. She turns around,
climbs onto my lap with one leg on each side, and lowers herself onto me again. She straddles me,
burying my cock deep inside her.
With her facing me now, her breasts are pushed up against my chest, and I feel her nipples, hard
little nubs against my pecks. The scent of our sex rises between us and tugs at the most primal parts of me.
Dana cups my cheeks in her hands and lowers her lips to mine. The kiss is sensual. Her tongue traces my
lips, teasing and pulling away when I want to meet her tongue with mine.
Finally, she opens her mouth, presses our lips together, and lets my tongue enter her mouth. She
kisses me with fiery passion, and her hips start moving back and forth. With her facing me now, her
balance isn’t an issue anymore. Her arms are around my neck, and I reach around and squeeze her ass in
rhythm with her rocking.
Her walls squeeze down on me, and I feel her orgasm building inside her. Her body tenses and
relaxes as she rides me, her wide hips rolling, her ass heaven in my hands.
We break the kiss, and she picks up her pace. She rocks over me, finding a rhythm, and it’s sexy as
fuck. Her breasts move against my chest, and her breath falls on my lips, quick and shallow. Her face
glimmers in the darkness. A thin sheen of sweat covers her skin, and where our bodies meet, we are
slippery.
I don’t move much. I let her take control now. I want her to be in command and to do to me
whatever she desires.
The sex with her is always breathtaking, but tonight it feels like we’re on a different level. She’s
giving herself over to me with an abandon I hope I’m not mistaking. It hasn’t felt like this before, and I
drink in the sensation.
This woman is not just a booty call, or someone to fuck because of a fantasy I have about my
stepsister. I care for her, more than I know how to explain to her, and with us having sex, it feels like
something between us merges, like we become one in a way I don’t fully understand.
All I know is that this is what I want. Dana is what I want, and not just as a lover, but as a person
that I can be close in every way possible.
“What is it?” she asks in a breathy voice when my eyes are on her face for a long time.
I shake my head and swallow.
“I’m just looking at you,” I say.
She smiles and closes her eyes.
I can feel her body pulsating, the urge to release growing. I don’t want to give it to her, not yet. As
always, I’m not done yet, and I don’t want to his to be over if I can draw it out longer. When she’s this
close, I feel like anything is possible, and I don’t want that feeling to fade into nothing.
 She kisses me again, and the sensuality slips away, making way for lust once more. An urge deep
inside me resurfaces, and it wants as much of her as I can get. I move my hands on her hips, holding her
still, so I can pound into her again. She whimpers, making little moaning sounds, but I want more.
I wrap my arms around her lower waist and brace my legs. I stand up, holding her against me, still
sitting on my dick. Her face is surprised.
I start bouncing her up and down on me and she cries out, the rhythm releasing little screams from
her lungs. I don’t ask her to be quiet. I concentrate on keeping my rhythm, bouncing her so she lifts off my
dick almost completely and lands on it again.
When I lean forward, I realize the angle is better. I can get in deeper and fuck her harder without
having to fight gravity so much. She tips her head back and gasps back. Her breasts roll back and forth as
I fuck her, and she’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.
I can’t keep her up forever. My arms get tired, but my cock is insatiable. I turn around, face the bed,
and lift one knee onto it. I manage to lift her so she doesn’t lie on the edge, and I have room to stand on my
knees.
I plunge into her again, hammering her hard. She cries out. Her body moves up toward the pillows
and headboard. I lay down, my chest mashing her breasts, her body pinned beneath mine. I fuck her harder
and harder, driving deeper and deeper, and I find a rhythm that becomes so instinctive I don’t have to
think.
My body takes over.
 Dana


Lust consumes me. Keagan is lying on top of me, and all I can think about is his cock inside of me,
and the way he pins me with his body. We’re pressed against each other, skin on skin. Our bodies are
slick where we touch, and the yearning for Keagan is so thick in the air, it pushes down my throat and
makes it hard for me to breathe.
As if he knows that he’s torturing me with his body, Keagan slides in and out of me slowly, taking
his time. When he’s buried deep inside me, he pauses and I shudder. My pussy tightens around him before
he slowly pulls out again, until only the tip is still inside my body.
He repeats the achingly slow strokes again and again. All the while, his blue eyes are on mine. He
looks at me as if he hasn’t seen me in ages, and he doesn’t want to forget what he’s seeing right now. Not
ever.
I study his face. His hair is slick with sweat, and beads of it drip down his forehead from the
exertion. His skin is perfect, his nose straight like an arrow, and his eyebrows are the same sandy color as
his hair. He’s a true, natural blond.
Keagan dips his head and brushes his lips against mine. He smiles at me, and his eyes glint,
mischief creeping in.
I don’t have time to ask before he picks up his pace. My legs are spread, and he’s between them.
He starts pounding into me, picking up speed until we’re back to him nailing me hard and fast. I cry out
and give myself over to the sensations.
I am reduced to the perfect mix of pleasure and desperate hunger. He fucks me so hard that all I can
focus on is the here and now, what goes on in my body, what is happening with him on top of me.
Everything else falls away.
I close my eyes, and he is everywhere. On me, and in me. I smell his soap, strands of his cologne
that still cling to his skin, and the glorious smell of sex that makes me want more and more of him. Every
time.
As if he’s changed channels again, Keagan slows down. A part of me rejoices in the break. The
intensity is more than I can handle, and I appreciate the opportunity to catch my breath. Another part of me
protests and I sigh. It sounds like frustration and pleasure combined.
Keagan chuckles and presses his lips against mine again.
“You’re kissing me a lot more, lately,” I say when he breaks the kiss.
“It’s because you taste so good,” he says and kisses me again.
I smile against his mouth. He’s still moving his hips, but it’s slow enough for me to think, and I have
a feeling that the kissing has a lot less to do with how I taste than what emotions pass between us.
I don’t want to think about emotions. I want to think about sex. I want to feel Keagan and think about
only him. I need to go back to the bubble he created only a few minutes ago and let him take me away.
I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him tightly against me. He gets the hint and picks up his
pace. His hips buck against mine, and the sexual bliss that carried me away earlier returns in full force. I
let out a sigh of satisfaction, but with his pounding into me, it comes out as a series of gasps.
He fucks me like this, with my legs around his hips and my ass lifted just a bit off the mattress. Then
he stops.
I want to ask him if he is set on torturing me, if this is going to be the trend of the night. Then he
reaches for my pillows. He lifts my hips with one hand, as if I weigh nothing. His cock is still inside me,
and I’m surprised at how easy he makes it look.
Keagan tucks the pillows beneath my hips so that I’m lying at an angle. My legs are still loosely
wrapped around his hips, and my ass is elevated. Keagan bends over me again, his hands braced on either
side of my head. I look at him. His eyes slide hungrily over my body, and I can feel his stare like a
physical touch. I shiver, and my nipples tighten.
Keagan grins and starts pumping into me again. At this angle, he pushes deeper than he has before,
fucking me harder, and his cock hits my cervical wall. It’s a good pain that licks through my body, and I
close my eyes and focus on the sensation. I’m aware of my jiggling breasts, of my hands on his shoulders,
and the way his muscles ripple beneath my fingertips.
I cry out, my voice a loud echo of the pleasure he’s building inside me.
“Shh, baby girl,” he says in a breathy voice. “Not too loud.”
I know he’s referring to the neighbors. It’s rude to make this much noise at night, but he’s fucking me
hard. The pleasure is almost unbearable, and I don’t know how to keep myself quiet. Our bodies have
melded together, and I don’t know where my body ends and his starts. I’m lost in the sensations, and I
don’t want to be found.
At this angle, he’s rubbing against my G-spot, working me up into a frenzy. I want the orgasm, want
to lose control, and want to fall apart.
Keagan leans his weight to the side so he’s holding himself up with one arm. He puts his free hand
on my shoulder and thumbs my collar bone. The sensation is strangely erotic. During sex, though, I don’t
know any other sensation it could be.
His hand moves to my breast and he kneads the mound, his fingers sure despite his fucking. Who
says a man can’t multitask? His fingers find my nipple, and he tweaks it, turning the nub like it’s a button,
and it’s a direct line to my pussy and the pending orgasm. I buck my hips, and my body spasms.
He tugs on my nipple, squeezing and pulling, hard enough to make me shudder, but not so hard that
it hurts. Keagan knows exactly what he’s doing, knows the fine line between pleasure and pain, and he’s
with it always so that I don’t have to be. After a while, he lets go of my nipple, kneads my breast once or
twice more, and continues to roam my body. His hand on my ribs is large enough to wrap around my side
and make me feel delicate. He holds my body in place like that while he pushes into me, pulls out again,
and keeps up the process.
I follow the line of my body with my eyes. My breasts are high up on my chest, due to the angle. My
stomach looks flatter than flat, and my hip bones protrude in a way that’s sexier than when I’m standing.
This angle is flattering. I watch Keagan’s cock as it disappears inside me, then reappears, slick with our
fluids, white with the foam of his exertion. I can smell our sex, my scent mingled with his, and it smells of
primal urges and pleasure.
His balls slap against my ass every time he enters me, and the sound makes a strange harmony with
the squelching and sucking sounds that his cock makes when he enters and exits my body. Our grunts and
moans lace the sounds of sex, and I close my eyes, listening to what it sounds like when we’re together.
Keagan’s hand makes its way down my body. His fingers flutter over my pubic mound, and then the
tips slip into my slit. My legs are wide open, my body is at an angle, and he’s pushed up so that’s he’s
standing on his knees, not leaning over me, now. My clit is on display, and his fingers probe it.
I jerk and moan. He chuckles as if it’s amusing and puts his finger against my clit again. He moves
his fingers in circles, rubbing gentle spirals around my clit, bringing me to the brink of an orgasm and
keeping me there.
I’m torn between the two sensations, the cock inside me and the fingers on my clit. The constant
shift in focus draws the orgasm out so that it’s delicious torture. If I want to orgasm from his attention to
my clit, Keagan will have to stop fucking me, and I don’t want that.
The feeling consumes me, and I’m balanced between his hand and his cock, hanging in a sort of
orgasmic limbo.
The feeling builds more and more, the orgasm refusing to be kept at a certain level, and I feel like I
will spontaneously combust. My skin is on fire, and my nerve endings sizzle with sensation. My limbs go
numb, and I withdraw into a deep, dark part of myself.
Keagan’s pace picks up, and he fucks me harder, faster. The strokes shorten, and I know that he’s
close, now. This is the grand finale. He’s building me up, and he’s pushing himself to the edge, too.
His finger assaults my clit, and I cry out, the heat that he’d been coaxing finally washing over me as
the orgasm finally releases. I fall apart on the bed, his hand pressed against my clit, and it’s like my
orgasm pushes him over the edge.
He jerks and spasms inside me, and with a sharp cry, he falls forward, catching himself on his
hands on either side of my body. He shudders as he empties himself inside me. I gasp, my walls clamping
down on him, and I’m hyperaware of his cock twitching inside me. My body does what it’s created to do
and milks him dry, spasming in rhythm with him, until, finally, the orgasm releases me.
He collapses on top of me, breathing hard, and my heart hammers against his ribs. His chest rises
and falls in time with mine.
Keagan lifts his head. His face is wet with sweat, and he regards me through hooded eyes. He pulls
his hips backward and slips out of me, already softening. When he lies next to me, I have a wonderful
sensation of complete satisfaction. I look at him, and I know I don’t have to ask him the way I did before.
I get off the bed and walk to the bathroom to clean up. When I return to the bedroom, he’s already
under the covers, lying back on the pillow, eyes closed. I climb in bed with him, and he stretches out his
arm so I can lie on his chest. He curls his arm around me and kisses my hair.
Exhaustion pulls over me like a blanket, and I let it draw me under, my body spent, my mind
blissfully blank, and the sound of Keagan’s heartbeat right next to my ear.
 Keagan


Going public with Dana was something I stressed about all week, just for it to not happen. I’m
worried about the world knowing, but not to the point that I’ll cancel my plans. The only reason it didn’t
happen is because of Dana’s new job. I don’t want to jeopardize her career for something that doesn’t
have to be so dramatic right now.
It makes me think about my priorities. Dana is a lot more important to me than a lot of other things. I
don’t care what the world thinks, even if what they think is negative.
Why, then, am I avoiding my dad over our relationship?
What he thinks of me means a lot more than what the rest of the world thinks. I don’t want to
disappoint him. At the same time, I realize he needs to hear it straight from me. Even if he already has his
suspicions, if we went public and he heard it over the news, I would feel like I’ve betrayed him
somehow.
I’m glad we’re waiting a little, even if it is just long enough for me to talk to my dad about it. I
don’t necessarily want his blessing, but I want him to know what’s going on in my life so that he doesn’t
hear about it on the news like the rest of the world.
A meeting that was set up on Monday morning is canceled. I decide to drive to the studio. Susan
invites me in with a smile and hugs me.
“How are you?” she asks, and I know what she means.
“Good, thank you,” I say tightly. I don’t want to talk to her about anything. I’m not here for some
hippie love advice.
“Is my dad here?” I ask.
She nods. “He’s in the storage room, sorting through some new pieces we just got in and putting
them into the system.”
I nod and thank her. I make my way to the storage room and knock on the half open door before
stepping into the room. My dad looks up at me from a clipboard, and he looks happy to see me.
“Come on in,” he says and removes a file from a stool, pushing it toward me. “Sit down. I’m just
tagging this stuff.”
I nod and sit down. For a while, I watch him go through his little system, processing the paintings.
They’re a little abstract for my taste, but the room is filled with works that have emotions on canvas, and
it’s not a bad place to be in. I feel a little out of place in my suit pants and collared shirt and tie.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” my dad finally says, putting his clipboard down and picking up a
painting to study it closer.
“A meeting was canceled, and they have it covered at the office. I thought I’d drop by.”
“Very nice,” my dad says, still looking at the painting, and I’m not sure if he’s talking about my visit
or the art.
“I want to talk to you about Dana.” There’s no reason to make small talk. I don’t have that much
time, and I feel like making small talk will only postpone the inevitable hostility.
My dad glances at me.
“What about your sister?” he asks. I know he’s saying it like that on purpose.
“Stepsister, Dad. And we’re not related. That’s what I want to talk to you about. We’re thinking
about going public. We were actually considering it this Friday.”
My dad looks at me, the painting finally forgotten.
“And why didn’t you?” he asks.
I shrug. “It’s not always that easy to swim against the current.”
He sighs. “Well, that’s true.”
A moment of silence hangs between us, and I wait for him to fill it. Eventually, he does.
“You know I’m not going to be okay with it. I’m not going to tell you it’s okay with me if you’re
with her. It’s taboo, for God’s sake, and for a reason.”
I shake my head. “I’m not here to ask your blessing or anything. I just thought you had a right to
know, to hear it from me, instead of on the news when it does come out.”
My dad frowns at me. “You’re serious about this?”
I nod. “Didn’t you think I was?”
He shakes his head. “We all have fantasies. We all enjoy the idea of something dangerous. But these
things pass. It’s a phase.”
“Dana is not a phase,” I say.
My dad sighs. “So, you’re serious about her, huh?”
I nod. I don’t have to hide it, I’m sure he can tell that I’m serious enough if I’m here to talk to him
about it. My dad pulls up another stool and sits down. We’re both balanced on stools that are too small for
our bodies, one leg on the floor, one leg hitched on the bar between the legs, facing each other.
“So, you’re going to do this, no matter what I say.”
I nod again.
“Then tell me how you feel about her. Tell me what it is about her that makes you want to risk your
reputation and all the relationships in your life. Because not everyone is going to be okay with it.”
I take a deep breath.
“I can’t tell you everything about her that makes me happy. There’s too much for that. But you know
her. You know how she can make even the small things come to life through her excitement. She’s creative
and kind and gentle, and she reaches out to people just because. She has her flaws, but they pale in
comparison to all the good things I can name about her.”
My dad nods, slowly.
“Do you love her?” he asks.
 I hesitate. Love is a strong word, and the label is quite permanent.
“I love her in a lot of ways,” I say. “After all, we’ve lived in the same house for years. But I think
I’m in love with her, too. It’s not just platonic. It’s never been. It’s more than that, and it keeps growing.”
My dad scrutinizes my face, his eyes searching mine for a clue, an answer, something. I’m not sure
what he’s hoping to find.
“Look, I can’t say I’m happy about it. It still makes me uncomfortable. I don’t think it’s natural.”
I open my mouth to say something, but he holds up his hand.
“I know you’re going to tell me you’re not related, and you’re right. You’re not. In theory, there’s
nothing wrong with it. You deserve to be happy, and love is rare so I’m not going to give you hell about it.
I just can’t wrap my head around it right away, okay?”
I nod. It’s fair enough. I’m being honest with him, and he’s being honest with me in return. My dad
and I have always had a relationship based on mutual respect. It’s what happens when you must face the
world together for as long as we did before Susan and Dana appeared in our lives.
“Do you want coffee?” my dad asks, climbing from his stool.
I nod and follow him out into the studio. Susan is busy with a customer, discussing paintings. We
walk to the small kitchen they’ve set up, and my dad puts on a pot of coffee. He leans his hip against the
counter and folds his arms over his chest while we wait.
“Going public is a big deal,” my dad says. “You said it’s hard swimming against the stream. What
happened?”
“It was a small problem with her job, actually. But I’m glad we’re waiting. I want to go public with
her. I want her to know how serious I am, despite everyone’s reservations, but I don’t know exactly where
we stand. Even though I know she won’t just ditch me, I feel like I’m jumping with my eyes closed, and I
don’t know how deep the water is. If that makes sense.”
My dad nods. “I understand what you’re saying. Maybe you should wait until you know how you
feel about her before you take such a big step. The pressures of going public is more than enough already
even when you have a stable foundation.”
I shake my head. “I know how I feel about her. I’m not a hundred percent sure how she feels about
me. I mean, we’ve mentioned that we’re happy to be together and that we both want to go public, but a
part of me still has question marks about what she really thinks about it all.”
The coffee finishes brewing, and my dad pours us two mugs. The smell curls around me. My dad
adds sugar and cream to both cups and hands me mine. I blow on it for a bit before I take a scalding sip.
“Believe it or not, that is both the easiest and the hardest part of a relationship,” my dad says.
“Communication.” I notice the word “relationship” and I realize there is a lot that hasn’t been said yet.
“You need to tell her how you feel. Put it into so many words, and label it. Be open with her and ask her
to be open with you. You’ll never be able to avoid misunderstandings completely, but a good way to start
is to talk.”
 I nod, looking at my coffee. I understand what he’s saying. It makes sense. I need to talk to her if I
want to know what’s going on and where we’re headed. The idea of talking to her is terrifying, though,
and I realize what my dad is trying to say. If I can’t talk to her about how I feel and I can’t ask her how she
feels, then I shouldn’t be thinking about going public, anyway.
I haven’t told her that I’m in love with her. That I love her, romantically.
I don’t know if I can, either. Our conversation about going public is a very sure sign that we’re
more than just fuck buddies, but going all the way, talking about love and dating, seems like a mountain
before me. I guess it’s always hard to put yourself out there and to risk getting hurt.
Because that’s what I’m scared of. Getting hurt.
And getting burned by Dana won’t be the same as getting burned by Liz all those years ago. I won’t
be able to get away from Dana because she’s family, and I will see her every Christmas, New Years, and
Thanksgiving for the rest of my life. If we part badly, it won’t only be our relationship that will be
screwed, but our family life, too. And our mutual friendships.
Everything that we’ve shared until now, even if it wasn’t born from romance, will be fucked.
I take a deep breath and sip more of my coffee.
“Being in love is hard,” my dad says.
I glance at him and chuckle. “You and Susan have been happily married for how many years now?”
I ask.
My dad shakes his head. “I know. We’re happy. But that doesn’t mean that we don’t have our
difficulties. A relationship is never easy, no matter how right you are for each other. It makes it easier, of
course, which is why you must be sure she’s the right person for you. But just because it’s hard, doesn’t
mean it’s wrong.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I say.
“And just because it’s easy, doesn’t mean it’s right, either.”
I nod. It’s sage advice. And my dad is being strangely open-minded about it. I didn’t think it would
be this painless to talk to him. I half expected a fight.
“Just do me a favor, okay?” my dad asks.
I look at him. He looks around the little kitchen, looking a little uncomfortable.
“Don’t kiss her in front of me or anything. Seriously.”
I laugh and nod. That is something I can agree to. After the conversation went as well as it did, it’s
a small price to pay.
When I leave, I feel like a weight is lifted off my shoulders, and I can go back to the office with one
less thing to stress about.
 Dana


I’m nervous. Today is my first day, and I feel like I’m all over the place. I get up too early to get
ready, have breakfast, and leave almost too late because I’m stressing and forget to check the time. When I
finally get to the building, I can’t find a parking space close to the door so I must search for one far away
and walk almost a block’s length to get to the office.
When I finally arrive and announce myself at reception, I hear that Julia isn’t in the office. She
already left to see a client.
Great. The first day of any job is always chaotic for me, even more so than the interview process.
But I console myself by thinking that the first day is the worst, and things can only get better from there.
I’m asked to wait in the lobby while another HR rep is called. I sit with my handbag on my lap,
finally calming down when a blonde a woman approaches me.
She’s striking in a way that makes me take notice. She’s not beautiful, per se, but she has something
about her. The way she carries herself, the way she uses her face when she speaks, that makes her
attractive. She wears minimal makeup, less than I have on, but she makes it look like she’s only wearing it
because she’s a woman and it’s expected of her in the workplace. Her body is trim, like she works out a
lot, and she swings her hips like men might be watching.
“Dana, right?” she asks.
I stand up and extend my hand. She looks at it like I’m being strange. I drop my hand slowly, trying
not to feel rejected. I dislike her immediately.
“I’m Bianca.”
As in Keagan’s fling? I want to ask, but of course, I don’t. I look at her again. I can’t imagine there
are many Bianca’s in Golden Image’s HR division.
“Come with me,” she says and turns around, walking away. I get up and hurry after her.
“You’re supposed to shadow me for a while until Julia gets back to finalize your contract. I have
calls to make so you can sit in my office.”
I nod. She glances over her shoulder at me, and I can’t decipher her look. She’s not the kind of
woman I’ll be friends with. I wonder what Keagan saw in her. She is attractive, sure, and I can imagine
some men go crazy over her body. She’s a bitch though, but Keagan did say she’d been just a fling.
In her office, I sit down in a chair and watch Bianca go about her business, making calls. She’s cold
on the phone when it’s a woman on the other side of the line, flirtatious when it’s a man. She chooses her
moods and the faces she wants to show carefully. I’m relieved Keagan suggested we wait with going
public. Bianca would have made this first day hell for me.
The whole morning wastes away with me sitting in Bianca’s office while she does menial work.
Finally, just before lunch, she gets a call that frees me.
 “Right, I’ll send her,” she says into the phone.
“Boss wants to see you,” she says.
“Julia?”
Bianca laughs like I’m being ridiculous. “Julia’s far from your boss,” she says. She flips her blonde
hair over her shoulder.
“Lisa will tell you where to go,” she says when I don’t make a move to leave.
I nod and leave the office without thanking her for anything. She did nothing but tolerate me in her
personal space.
I walk to the reception desk, get directions to Lisa’s desk, and finally meet the secretary who shows
me where my boss’s office is.
“How are you enjoying your day so far?” Lisa asks while we walk.
“It’s a bit overwhelming,” I say. Nothing enjoyable has happened yet.
Lisa smiles at me. “I’m sure you’ll feel differently when you meet Elizabeth. She’s great to work
for, and she really puts effort into her employees.”
I nod. I hope so.
“Once you get your contract sorted you’ll be put on a project, and then everything will be a lot
more fun.”
I smile at Lisa when she drops me off in front of Elizabeth’s door, and I thank her. I take a deep
breath and knock on the door.
“Come in,” a gentle voice calls, and I open the door.
She’s facing away from the door, her chair swiveled so I only see the back of it.
“You asked to see me,” I say.
The chair swivels around, and I recognize the face immediately.
“Liz?” I ask.
“Dana,” she says, looking as surprised as I feel. She looks down at her file. “I saw your name, but I
didn’t put two and two together. What a coincidence.”
She laughs lightly. I blink at her, struggling to swallow down my heart which is beating in my throat
now.
Elizabeth, my new boss, is none other than Liz, the woman that ripped Keagan’s heart out after
she’d dated him for three years. He hadn’t dated since, because of her.
“Sit down, please,” she says, a smile firmly in place.
It doesn’t reach her eyes, but it never did. I sit down, hesitantly. I eye Liz. Nothing about her has
changed. I haven’t seen her many times. I’d gone to college by the time she was with Keagan, and he
didn’t bring her along to family events often. But she has a confidence about her that comes with being
told for years and years that you are better than others. Her smile isn’t genuine, her hair is a bottle blonde,
no matter how professionally done, and her makeup is immaculate.
 I swallowed. It was hard not to be intimidated by a woman like this. Especially after she dated
Keagan, and she is his idea of a serious relationship. I hope to God that he doesn’t compare me to her
when we’re doing everything.
“How is your brother?” she asks.
My ears start ringing. I can’t sit across from the woman that hurt him and smile, pretending
everything is fine. I shake my head.
“I’m sorry, Liz,” I say. “I can’t do this.”
She frowns. “What?”
“I can’t work for you.”
She blinks at me. Her frown fades, and her face is unreadable. She’s always had a perfect poker
face, and it’s unnerving.
“You’re quitting before you’ve even started.” It’s not a question.
I nod. “I know how Keagan feels about you. I’m not going to betray him like that.”
She laughs, a pleasant sound if it weren’t for the bitch it was coming from.
“Don’t be petty, Dana,” she says. “This is a good job with a lot of money. You’ll just throw it
away?”
I nod and stand up.
“I’m sorry,” I say again and leave her office without saying anything else.
I walk through the building, head held high, until I’m in the street before I let out a breath I didn’t
know I was holding. My heart hammers against my ribs, and I have a lump in my throat, although I can’t
tell why I want to cry. Seeing not one, but two of Keagan’s exes in one day, in one office, makes me feel
like throwing up.
I have to get out of here.
I walk to my car. When I’m behind the wheel, I dial my mom on the Bluetooth system. The phone
rings for so long, I’m sure I’ll be pushed over to voicemail, but then she answers and her voice is pleasant
and welcome.
“I just quit my job,” I say without saying hello.
“What? Honey, why?”
“Liz was my boss. Liz, Mom. That woman.”
I can’t find the words. I’m upset and angry, and I don’t know why I feel as strongly as I do.
“Oh, sweetie.” My mom can’t even find the words. After a moment of silence from both of us, she
speaks again.
“Are you going home?”
I nod, remember she can’t see me and answer. “Yes.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“What about the studio?”
 “Chris can manage.”
We end the conversation, and a part of me relaxes because my mom is on her way. No matter how
old I get, when I can cry on my mom’s shoulder, things start to feel better. She comes when I need her, and
I’m grateful that I have someone on my side, the way I have her.
I drive home. I have a sinking feeling in my gut. The more I think about what I just did, the sicker I
feel. It was a great job, and it was a good salary. I could have moved back into my own place and stopped
being a burden. But I can’t work for Liz. I hate her. She hurt Keagan so much. And I can’t stand Bianca,
even though I only spent one morning with her.
Am I being stupid for running away, or am I doing the right thing?
When I get back home, I get changed into something more comfortable. I pull back my hair into a
ponytail and wash my face, getting rid of the makeup I put on for the day.
My mom rings the doorbell, and I let her in. She whirls into the apartment in a flurry of colored
material and wraps her arms around me.
“Don’t you for one second think you did the wrong thing,” she says after hugging me. She holds me
at arm’s length. My eyes well up, even though I don’t know why I want to cry. Part of me feels like I made
a mistake.
“I gave up the job,” I say to my mom. She leads me to the couch, and we sit down together. “Was
that stupid of me?”
“What’s the alternative, work for that little witch?”
I smile when my mom says it. My mom hates Liz the most, even more than Keagan does, for what
she did to him.
“You don’t need that drama, especially not with what’s going on between the two of you. There
will be more jobs.”
I take a deep breath. “I wish it was that easy. I’ve been to so many interviews, and I was so happy
when I finally landed something.”
My mom takes both hands in hers.
“The right job will come along, sweetheart. If it’s meant to be, it will be.”
Her destiny-driven view of life doesn’t make me feel better. I feel like I had something good, and I
ruined it.
“You didn’t do it for yourself, anyway,” my mom says.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“You gave it up for Keagan. Because you’re on his side. Or am I wrong?”
I shake my head. She’s not wrong. I did do it for him. I can’t work for the woman that hurt him and
not feel like I’m betraying him.
“I can see what’s happening,” my mom says. “And you have to tell him.”
“Tell him what? About the job?”
 She shakes her head. “No, do that when you’re ready. I mean how you feel about him.”
I take a shaky breath. “I have told him.”
“Did you tell him that you’re in love with him?” she asks.
God, am I really that transparent that my mom can see everything that goes on in my mind and my
heart?
“I’m scared it will ruin things between us,” I say. “I don’t want to screw up what we have now.”
“If you don’t talk to him, eventually keeping it from him will break what you have. Communication
is the only thing that works. And when you know what you want and the other person wants it too, it all
goes so much better.”
I nod. I wanted to be able to cry on her shoulder. Instead, she’s lecturing me about doing the right
thing. I hate to admit it, though, but she’s right.
I need to tell him how I feel. I’m just scared to. If he doesn’t feel the same, I’ll be crushed. But
putting your heart out there is never easy.
“It will be fine, baby,” my mom says and touches my cheek. “If it’s meant to be…”
“I know,” I say. “It will be.”
The advice is a lot easier to hand out than to take. It doesn’t make me any less nervous about it. But
there is some truth to it, and either way, I will have to talk to him, sooner or later. We can’t keep dancing
around each other the way we are now. No matter how good the sex is.
 Keagan


My morning routines are unwavering. I get up at seven, shower, get dressed, and eat something. By
the time it hits eight o’clock, I’m on the road heading to work.
This morning, I’m running late. I overslept, and I’ll have to skip breakfast if I’m going to make it
into the office on time. I glance at my wristwatch as I put it on. I’m about half an hour behind schedule.
Dana knocks on my door. When I open it, she stands stark naked in front of me. It takes my breath
away, and my rush is suddenly forgotten.
“What are you doing?” I ask when I manage to find my voice. I let my eyes slide down her body,
greedy to take in as much as I can. Her breasts are big and beautiful, her dark nipples soft. Her flat
stomach, her pussy, I take it all in.
When I force myself to look into her eyes again, she shrugs so that her breasts jiggle slightly.
“You seem stressed,” she says. “That, and I’m horny.”
God. I’m running late. I can’t do this. My body betrays me, hardening in my pants. I only hesitate for
a second.
“Fuck it,” I say and step forward so that my body is pressed against hers. I can be late. It’s my damn
company, I can arrive whenever I feel like it.
I wrap my arms around Dana and pull her into my room, kissing her hard and mashing my body
against hers. My tongue slips into her mouth, and I taste her. She tastes minty and fresh.
I run my hands down her back. She gyrates her hips against mine and sighs into my mouth.
When we break the kiss, I step back and start getting undressed, reversing everything I’ve just done
to get ready for work. I want her. I want to fuck her. Now. I’m not going to wait until I get back from work.
The shirt is easy to get rid of. When I reach for my buckle, she helps me, undressing me. Her hands
are sure. She kneels to pull my pants down my legs, taking my underwear with it. My cock is hard and
springs free.
Dana is still on her knees in front of me. She reaches for my cock, one hand cupping my balls and
the other wrapping around the base. She leans forward and looks up at me as she opens her mouth. My
dick slides in between her lips, and I groan.
Her mouth his hot and wet, and she knows what she’s doing, pushing my cock deeper into her
mouth, against her soft palate. My hands are in her hair, guiding, encouraging, urging. I close my eyes and
groan. Her hand on my balls squeezes me lightly, and my lust grows.
I don’t let her suck me off for very long, even though it feels amazing. If she carries on for too long
I’m going to come in her mouth before the fun gets started.
I pull back, and my cock slips out of her mouth. I take her hand and pull her up. I’m naked aside
from my socks, and I want to take her. Her unexpected blow job has me aching with lust. Sex on the bed
isn’t what I’m after. I want it to be different. Dana has a way of awakening a very erotic side of me.
I lead her to the bathroom and turn her back to me so we’re both facing the mirror. I look at us over
her shoulder. I run my hands over her breasts and kiss her neck, nibbling softly on the skin below her ear.
She reaches back and places her hand at the back of my neck. With her arm up, her breasts are pushed out,
and I tug on her nipple. She gasps.
I put one hand on her hip, and with a flat hand, I press between her shoulder blades so that she
bends over in front of me. Her ass is on display, and I knead her cheeks, gazing hungrily at her pussy.
She’s wet. I can see her lips glisten. I guide my cock toward her with my hand, pressing the head into her
entrance, and she moans. I slide in deeper, and her body opens for me, slowly accepting my size.
When I’m in to the hilt, she braces herself on the counter. She looks up at me, making eye contact in
the mirror. I keep my eyes on hers and start fucking her.
The mirror is a great idea. I see her breasts swing, and her face has an orgasmic look as I pound her
from behind. Her mouth is open, and the moans and cries that slip out are purely sexual. I nail her hard
from behind.
She’s struggling to keep herself up with her arms so I reach a hand to her shoulder and hold onto
her, keeping her up, balancing her between the hand on her hip and the other hand on her shoulder.
My balls slap against her clit, and with every thrust, she cries out.
The sound of our sex fills the bathroom and echoes off the tiles. The slapping, moaning, and
groaning.
I pull out of her, and she gasps. She’s breathing as hard as I am. I take her face in my hands and kiss
her, exploring her mouth with my tongue. She kisses me through deep breaths as she’s trying to catch her
breath. I kiss her jawline, down her neck, her collarbone, and her shoulder. I retrace my path back to her
mouth and kiss her long and deeply, before I finally pull away. I look into her eyes and brush stray strands
of hair out of her face.
“Turn around,” I say, but I’m already guiding her with my hand.
She turns around, and her skin breaks out in goosebumps when her ass presses against the cold
counter. I help her get up onto the counter so she’s sitting on the edge, and I put my hands on her knees,
pulling her legs open. Her lips are parted, and she leans back a little to keep her balance.
I guide myself toward her again with my hand. When I enter, she’s anchored to me, and she sits up,
putting her arms on my shoulders to steady herself.
I move in and out a few times slowly, testing her balance, testing the position. When nothing goes
wrong, I push into her harder and faster, picking up my pace and intensity, fucking her on the bathroom
counter, and it’s hotter than hot. I’ve been working through my fantasies with her, and not one of them has
been better than what she’s giving me right now.
Her breasts jiggle, and I reach for one of them, squeezing and kneading her glorious flesh. Her eyes
are closed, her hair bounces as she’s rocked on the counter, and her gasping is getting faster and
shallower. I think she’s getting closer, but I don’t know. I’m not sure. It’s hard to keep track of her orgasms
and concentrate on preventing my own.
I dip my head and take a nipple into my mouth. Her already-erect nipple tightens even more as I
flick my tongue over it, circle it, and suck on it. She moans. I use my teeth, nibbling gently. She gasps, and
her hand moves to my head, keeping me there. It’s encouraging, and I move from one nipple to the other.
Dana braces herself on the counter with her hands while I pay attention to her nipples, all the while
pounding into her. She tips her head back, and I can tell she’s getting lost in the sensation.
She wraps her legs around my hips, and it pulls me in deeper. Her body moves back and forth on
the counter. I wrap my arms around her body, hands on her back and draw her to me, pulling myself
deeper into her. I take her nipple into my mouth, and she cries out but it’s from pleasure, not pain.
I keep up the sucking while I’m pounding into her. I pay attention to her breathing. I don’t want her
to orgasm. I want her to get to the brink so I can keep her there, teetering on the edge for as long as
possible.
When she’s close, her breathing changes, and she starts gasping. I slow down my pace and let go of
her nipple. She groans in protest, but I don’t let her think about it for too long. I’m still sliding in and out
of her, and I’m still nuzzling her breasts.
When I know her pleasure has subsided enough, I pick up my pace and start fucking her harder
again. This time, I’m concentrating on the other nipple, and she starts breathing hard and moaning. When
she’s on the verge of an orgasm again, I slow down and let it go.
“Are you going to keep denying me an orgasm?” she demands to know in a breathy voice. I grin at
her and nod.
“For now,” I say.
Orgasm denial just makes it so much bigger and better in the end, and I want to give her a mind-
blowing orgasm. An orgasm that shatters her.
She doesn’t complain after I answer her, and I go back to fucking her. I look at her reflection in the
mirror again. Her hair swings on her shoulders, and her ass cheeks roll back and forth from the momentum
of my motion. Because of how she’s sitting on the counter, her ass looks like a bubble, bulging out on both
sides, and it’s hot as hell. I lean toward her, nip her shoulder with my teeth, and watch her body in the
mirror as I create the rhythm that rocks her back and forth hard on her ass cheeks.
Her hands are on my shoulders, her nails biting into the skin, and the pain is a delicious reminder of
what we’re doing. If she grabs me hard enough, there will be little half-moons where her manicured nails
push into my skin.
I like the idea of carrying a mark from when I take her. It’s sexy. It feels like she claims me,
somehow. Even if I wear a shirt, I will know the little marks are still there and carry them around with me
like a secret.
Dana can mark me as hers, but I’m claiming her right now with my cock. I might not leave any
permanent signs on her, but if I’m fucking her right, she’ll feel it for a long time after we’re finished.
Her eyes are closed, and her mouth is open. I focus on her lips. They’re beautiful and plump. Good
for smiling, great for kissing, and even better for blowjobs. I trace her bottom lip with my thumb. She
sucks it into her mouth, and her tongue plays around the tip, sensual and sexual.
I love it when she does this. It makes me think about shoving my cock in her mouth, and it reminds
me how she manages to mimic what her pussy feels like with her mouth.
For a moment, I want to pull out, get her off the counter and on her knees again, and push my cock
into her mouth. But I don’t. That’s how all this started up, and now, her pussy feels too good to stop.
Fucking her is pure bliss, and she’s giving me all she’s got.
Which is so much more than I ever hoped for. I caress her cheek with my fingertips, and she opens
her eyes. I want her to look at me. Her eyes are a little hazy, but she smiles at me, and I lean forward and
kiss her. The sex is amazing. She’s different behind closed doors than out in public, and it makes me feel
like she gives me a gift every time. Something secret that no one else can have.
And all of that is fantastic. But I’m just happy to be with her.
 Dana


Keagan’s powerful cock is relentless. He pounds into me with a steady, maddening rhythm. Each
stroke coaxes pleasure from me, but somehow, he manages to keep that pleasure from cresting past the
point of no return.
The sensations keep building inside me, like a storm that refuses to break. Gathering power and
intensity so that when its fury is unleashed, it’ll come with the thunder.
Keagan draws out a side of me that I don’t usually show. Most of the time, I don’t even know it’s
there. I’m reckless with him. I’m raw and absolutely myself. The masks I put on for the world fall away,
and it’s just me. The real me.
It’s unnerving to be so honest and vulnerable like this with someone, but I can’t help it with him.
The way he touches me, kisses me, and fucks me brings out a very real side of me. He tears down my
walls and gets to the heart of me.
And I like it. As unsettling as it is, I like being able to do whatever it is I want to do, and feel what
I want to feel. Keagan gives me the freedom to be myself without feeling like I’ll be judged for it.
Like right now, for instance. Keagan has my legs pinned open on the counter in his bathroom. His
hips force my thighs apart, and he’s pounding his cock into me repeatedly. He alternates between hard and
rough, and soft and gentle, but he’s awoken the need inside of me to ride this out until the very end.
I love it when he fucks me like this. It’s like he also leaves the thin veneer of society behind as soon
as we’re together behind closed doors. We let loose and become people that no one else is allowed to
see.
I can’t think straight anymore. The friction, the sensation, and the constant rhythm of his cock
pounding into me overrides my brain, and all I know is that I want more. I want to take this all the way. I
want him to make me orgasm again and again, until I’m weak and spent.
Keagan has the same thing on his mind, if the way he’s handling me is any indication. I know that
his constant change in pace is not just for my benefit, but for his own, too. It lets him last longer. He
doesn’t want it to be over any sooner than I do.
We’re often on the same page when it comes to sex.
His head strokes my G-spot with every thrust, and I cry out without shame. I try to keep it down for
his neighbor’s sake, but it’s the middle of the morning, and I don’t think many of them are home.
Daylight falls through the frosted bathroom window, and my body is on full display to Keagan. I
don’t care. I want him to look at me. I walked to his room naked for a reason. When he slows down again,
I start complaining.
“Don’t stop,” I say in a breathy voice. “Keep fucking me. I love what you’re doing.”
His eyes are hungry, filled with that insatiable desire that I see when he looks at me.
 “I’m not done with you yet, baby girl,” he says.
He put his arms around my back. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer and drawing
him deeper into me. He lifts me up, and I cling to his body, balanced on his cock. It moves inside me as he
walks to the bedroom.
He lays me on the bed, lifting one knee carefully and then another, so that I’m on my back and he’s
on all fours, cock still inside me. He leans down and kisses me. While his lips are melded to mine, he
starts moving his hips again and slides his cock in and out of me. He’s large and smooth and skilled at
what he's doing.
The change of position and angle makes it that much more intense. I’m hyperaware of his body over
mine, and the full feeling of his thickness inside me.
Without warning, Keagan picks up his pace again. This time, it’s not just hard fucking like he did in
the bathroom. Primal instinct takes over, and he hammers into me with a natural rhythm that doesn’t need
thinking about at all.
He’s hitting me deep, stroking me in all the right places, and I cry out, my moans and screams in
rhythm with his thrusting. If he keeps going like this, I’m going to explode. I can feel it building inside me,
my core getting hot, my muscles twitching, and the rest of my body going numb.
The bedspread chafes my back as he moves me back and forth on the bed with his body, but I don’t
care. The burning need for release, builds inside me like I’m filling up with hot water. Any moment, I’m
going to spill over.
Suddenly, I do. The orgasm shatters through me, and I cry out as my body spasms and convulses
beneath Keagan. He slows his pace only for a moment. White light drowns everything out, and my mouth
is rounded in a wordless scream. For a moment, I don’t breathe, until I gasp and come up for air.
Keagan’s eyes are on my face when I look at him, and he looks thrilled at the show I’ve just put on.
He doesn’t wait for me to recover. He picks up his pace again and thrusts into me hard.
My body is tight, now, my pussy sensitive, and it makes his fucking that much more intense. He’s set
on making this morning unforgettable, and he’s succeeding. He keeps at it. I think he might come soon, but
his pace is relentless, and he keeps at it without slowing down, without wavering, and without coming.
Finally, he stops, and I have a chance to catch my breath. Keagan leans down and kisses me. He
moves his mouth to my breasts and sucks on my nipples one after the other before he lies down next to me.
He puts his hand on my hips and rolls me over so that I’m lying on my side.
He moves against me, his chest pressing against my back, his legs bent and pressed against mine so
that our body are pressed together in one long line. His cock is slick against my lower back.
Keagan moves his hand between my legs from behind, and his fingers find my entrance. He pushes
himself against me from behind, and I curl into a ball to create the right angle for him to enter me again.
When he slides in, I let out a breathy moan. He feels bigger and bigger every time we change
positions. I think I’m getting more and more sensitive. But I’m not complaining. Whoever said size
doesn’t matter was trying to justify something.
Keagan is behind me, spooning me from his hips downward, but my upper body is away from him
to give him space to maneuver. He thrusts into me again, and it’s as intense as when I’m on all fours and
he’s taking me from behind.
He pushes into me, picking up his pace. I reach for the side of the bed to steady myself and grip the
covers. Keagan puts his hand on my shoulder and straightens his arm, holding me in place for him to fuck
me. The sensation is purely wild and erotic, and I can feel another orgasm build inside of me. It’s so soon
after the other that it takes me by surprise, but Keagan knows how to hit all the right spots, and I should
have expected something like this with him.
He brings unexpected things to our love life all the time, always surprising me in the best ways.
He fucks me harder and harder, and I’m crying out, letting the sensation flow over me, switching off
my rational mind. The sex is overpowering, mind blowing, amazing, and Keagan keeps going.
Warmth spreads through my body. Another orgasm starts building in the pit of my stomach. Keagan
seems to know what’s happening. He can read me well. He lets go of my shoulder and pulls me so that my
back presses against his chest again. He slows down his pace, and for a short while, it’s soft and sensual,
like making love, not fucking.
When he pulls out, I suffer the umpteenth disappointment. Every time he stops, I want him to keep
going. The orgasm was building, and I want another release.
But Keagan isn’t about to abandon me. This much is clear when he sits up and lifts me so that I’m
lying with my chest on the bed, my head turned, and my ass in the air. My hair is partially over my face,
and I feel deliciously exposed. I’m slick between my legs from our sex marathon and throbbing after the
constant thrusting.
He pushes his hands between my legs, but he doesn’t insert his fingers. It’s as if he knows that I’m
sensitive, and he’s giving me time to recover.
Instead, his fingers find my clit, and he starts circling it slowly. I’m sensitive there, too, but I’m far
from telling him to stop.
He uses two fingers and flicks my clit, sliding his fingers up and down my slit on either side of my
clit. He works me up to a clitoral orgasm, and I close my eyes. I let the sensation take over.
My body hums with anticipation. I am nervous that it will take long to climax, now that I’ve already
come once, but Keagan proves to me that he knows what buttons to push.
The orgasm builds fast, rising inside me like a storm. My body becomes hot, my nerve endings are
alive, and my skin is on fire. I’m gasping and moaning, my sounds muffled by my mouth, half-pressed into
the bed. I move my ass, wiggle it in the air, and buck my hips, unable to hold still.
When the second orgasm hits me it starts slowly, like a fire being ignited and slowly consuming me.
When it’s at full force, it courses through me like an inferno, and I cry out. My body is numb, and if
Keagan didn’t hold my hips, keeping me upright, I would collapse on the bed in a quivering heap.
 My muscles contract and release, and I feel my pussy where Keagan has been, contracting around
nothing now that he’s not inside me. I don’t know if I want him inside m. My body responds to the orgasm
with a gush of wetness, but I’m getting increasingly sensitive.
The orgasm lasts longer than the last one, and I focus on what I’m feeling, the contraction of my
muscles, everything from my core to my clit throbbing. My knees are weak, and it’s hard to balance
myself with my ass in the air, but Keagan has me. He’s holding me up.
I try to look around at him, but I can’t see his face, and lifting myself off the bed seems like too
much of an effort. I close my eyes again, content with the knowledge that he’s behind me and that he’s got
me.
 Keagan


When she orgasms, I can’t hold back and not fuck her again. Her ass is in the air, her pussy lips are
glistening and swollen, and her ass cheeks are so inviting. A cushion to slam my hips against repeatedly. I
know she’s had a lot, but she’s as into it as I am.
“Can I fuck you again?” I ask.
I don’t want to push her too far. She makes a sound into the mattress that doesn’t sound like a no,
and I don’t wait for her to tell me twice. I plunge my cock into her again and groan at how tight she’s
become. Her walls squeeze tightly around my cock now, clamping down as I start sliding in and out again,
riding her. She doesn’t hold herself up on her arms. Her back slopes down to where her chest rests on the
bed, and I grip her hips to hold her steady.
She moans as I thrust into her. She’s already orgasmed twice, and every time she did, the need
within me grew. I need to release. I want to explode, but I want more from her. I want to fuck her in every
way that she allows me to.
I ride her harder and harder, nailing her from behind. Her sounds, although husky now, aren’t
pained. I concentrate on her, making sure she’s with me on this all the way.
And she is. She pushes her ass back a little, leaning herself into me in encouragement. My balls
slap against her pussy, swinging back and forth as I thrust, and my orgasm builds bigger and bigger, a load
building up in my balls, waiting to be emptied inside of her. I want to come.
An image flashes in front of me of her on her knees with her lips wrapped around my cock, and I
know that it’s what I want. I wanted it earlier. I’m going to have it now.
I slow down my thrusting and finally stop.
When I pull out of her, her body resists, holding onto me. She’s swollen and raw, but she turns her
head so I can hear her.
“You’re stopping?” she asks.
I smile.
“Get on your knees, baby,” I say. “On the floor.”
I want to finish in her mouth. I want her hot lips to wrap around my cock, I want her to suck me off,
and I want to explode down her throat like before.
She pushes herself up and moves slowly across the bed, stiff. She slides onto the floor and kneels
in front of me, looking up at me. Her eyes are hooded, the satisfied look of a woman that’s orgasmed
twice, and she looks up at me. She runs a tongue along her bottom lip, and I know she wants to suck me as
much as I want her to.
She leans forward and wraps her fingers around the base of my cock. She licks a trail from her
fingers along the bottom of my dick to the tip, before she pushes her lips over my head and slides down
my cock.
The idea that our mixed sex, her wetness and mine, coats my cock and it’s in her mouth now nearly
pushes me over the edge, but I hold it back.
She starts bobbing her head up and down, her mouth sliding farther down with every stroke, and her
tongue moves around my shaft. I close my eyes and groan.
“You’re so fucking good at this,” I groan.
She gives the best head I’ve ever had.
She doesn’t stop. In fact, she picks up her pace and slowly slips her hand lower and lower until it’s
just her lips on my cock. She pushes me back against her soft palate and down her throat, thrusting a few
times before stopping to breathe for a moment. The she carries on. She’s deep throating me again, and I
can’t hold back anymore.
Her hands slide down to my balls, and she squeezes at the perfect time. I explode into her mouth,
pumping hot come down her throat. She doesn’t pull back, taking my load down her throat, and it’s sexy as
hell that she’s swallowing it down.
When the pumping slows, she pulls her head back far enough that she can breathe, her mouth still
around the top half of my cock, sucking it like it’s a straw. She milks every bit of come out of me, and I
shudder. The tip of my cock is sensitive now, and I jerk when she runs her tongue over me.
She looks up at me, those big blue eyes asking if it was good. I nod and roll my eyes back in my
head.
It was better than good.
She pulls back, and I slip out of her mouth, already softening. I crawl onto the bed and collapse,
drained of all my energy now that I’ve orgasmed. I take a deep breath and blow it out in a shudder, trying
to regain my energy and trying to catch my breath.
Dana crawls onto the bed next to me, and she lays down, facing me. I pull her against me as close
as I can get her without it being uncomfortable and close my eyes.
I need a moment to recover from what was easily the best sex of my life. I close my eyes, and for a
moment, I doze off.
When I open my eyes again, Dana is looking at me. She’s beautiful. Her hair frames her face, her
cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are bright. She smiles.
“You’re going to be late for work.”
I forgot about work. “Shit,” I say and get up.
I start pulling my clothes on. The shirt was on the floor in a pile, and it’s wrinkled now. I reach into
my closet for another one. When I turn to Dana, she’s sitting on the bed, her knees hugged to her chest,
watching me.
“You don’t mind if I just run?” I ask. I don’t just want to love her and leave her.
She shakes her head and smiles. “It’s fine. It’s my fault you’re late.” But the satisfied grin on her
face tells me she’s definitely not sorry about it.
Neither am I.
I finish getting dressed in record time and hurry to the bed. I cup her cheek and kiss her.
“I’ll call you later,” I say and run for the door.
I’m only two hours late when I finally reach the office. It feels like it should be more after
everything Dana and I did. Small blessings. Mason looks at me when I walk into his office to give him the
paperwork for another function.
He raises his eyebrows.
“You’re late,” he says.
“How do you know?”
He smiles. “I was looking for you. Was it good?”
I start shaking my head, trying to feign ignorance, but his grin gives away that I can’t hide it.
“How did you know?” I ask. I’m suddenly nervous it’s that obvious.
“I know you well enough. You look like a satisfied man, my friend. Besides that look, you being
late and me being the concerned friend that I am, I put it all together.”
He grins at me. I shake my head, my hands on my hips.
“So, I gather the two of you are doing well,” Mason says.
I shrug. I think we are, but the idea of talking to her about what I feel still looms over me.
“We’re good,” I say.
Mason looks like he has more to say, but I don’t let him. I don’t need more lecturing, and I have
enough work to catch up on after I spent most of my morning practicing extracurricular activities.
I try to focus on my work, but I can’t get her off my mind. Images of Dana are pinned to my frontal
lobe. I see her naked with her ass pointing at me, her breasts in the mirror, her mouth around my cock, her
legs wide open. I can still feel her sex around my cock and the echo of her body like a ghost of herself she
left behind.
It gets me hard again just thinking about her, but it’s more than that. I’m starting to think of her as a
lot more than just a fuck buddy, or someone I have a crush on. I’m really starting to fall for her.
I don’t know if she feels the same, but she’s doing the same things I’m doing to her, confiding in me,
sharing things with me, and sleeping with me. I feel like she feels the same things. And if that’s the case,
talking about it is just redundant.
I know everyone in my life will disagree, but this is between me and Dana. She said she wants to
go public as much as I do. It means more to me than anyone will ever know, and I know that it means
something between us, too.
When it’s my lunch break, I sit down behind my desk, close my door, and dial her number.
I don’t know if she’ll be able to speak, or what time her lunch is at the new job, but I need to hear
her voice.
 She answers on the third ring.
“Can you talk?” I ask.
She hesitates before she answers. “Yeah, I can talk.”
“I won’t keep you long,” I say.
“It’s okay,” she says. Her voice sounds different, like something is up.
I wonder if she’ll get in trouble with her boss for being on the phone. I don’t know much about
Golden Image. I never had much interaction with Bianca that didn’t involve our bodies.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Good,” she says, and I can hear her smiling. I picture her cute dimples. “A little sore, but nothing I
can’t handle.
“Me too,” I say. I take a breath. “Listen, I know we said we would wait a bit, but you just say
when, and we’ll go public. If the people at your job won’t give you too much hell, I don’t want to wait.”
Especially not after we had a morning like this one.
“Keagan…” she starts, and I’m expecting her to tell me that she can’t go public now. I know Bianca
can be a pain. She’s a whole lot of bitch in a slender body. I will understand if she says no. “I don’t work
for Golden Image anymore.”
“What?” I ask, because I can’t be hearing right. “What happened?”
She takes a deep breath. “Liz was there. She would have been my boss.”
My head throbs dully between my temples, and blood rushed in my ears.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I would have been working directly under Liz. I quit when I realized it.”
I shake my head. “You didn’t have to.”
“I did. I’m not working for her, Keagan. You know how I feel about her. And I know how you feel
about her.”
She sounds sure, but the information is a shock.
“So, I don’t have a job, again,” she adds.
I think for a moment.
“It’s okay,” I say. “We’ll make a plan for work for you. I’m sorry about this. I can’t believe my past
is influencing your work.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she says. “Honestly, I’m relieved I don’t have to face Bianca.”
I close my eyes. “So, you met her.”
She chuckles. “Yeah. I must say I don’t know what you saw in her. At least there’s nothing wrong
with your taste, now.”
I smile. “Funny,” I say. “We’ll fix this, okay?”
“I’ve got it covered,” she says. “Don’t worry about that. And about going public, there’s not much
stopping us now.”
 “Tonight, then,” I say. “No more waiting.”
Dana is quiet for a beat. “Tonight?”
“You said yourself there’s not much stopping us now.”
I try to imagine what her face looks like. She’s unsure. That much, I can tell.
“I’m just nervous,” she says, and I understand.
“Me too. But I want to get it out in the open so that we can be seen together without having to
pretend that nothing is going on.”
“Okay,” she says.
We end the conversation and I hang up.
She gave up her job for me. If that’s not enough proof that she feels something for me, I don’t know
what is.
Tonight, it is.
 Dana


Spago is a funky bistro that belongs to celebrity chef Wolfgang Puck, and it’s the kind of place the
who’s who go to hang out. Keagan asked me to meet him there at seven. He’s taking care of reservations,
and we both know the paparazzi are going to be present.
I drive myself and arrive just before seven. The restaurant doesn’t have a very wide entrance. The
narrow door and minimalistic name are subtle and elegant, instead.
I’m wearing the same clothes I wore on Friday when we were going to go public, then. My hair is
done up, my dress fits perfectly, and I feel like a million bucks.
And I’m terrified. I’m not usually in the public eye. It’s Keagan’s thing, and I don’t know how to be
comfortable in front of cameras.
But I want this. We’re going public. It’s Keagan’s way of saying that he wants me as someone more
permanent in his life. Romantically. This is the kind of thing we must close our eyes and jump into. Going
slowly just won’t cut it.
I walk toward the entrance, and the paparazzi is bunched together on the curb in front of it. Keagan
is already there, smiling like it’s the red carpet. He looks dashing in the same dark suit he wore on Friday
as well, but he looks comfortable, where I feel like a trussed chicken. Keagan does this kind of thing in
front of the press a lot.
When he sees me, he walks to me and camera flashes surround me. I understand why he’s always
wanted to arrive separately before. He smiles, his eyes soft and warm. He’s excited about this, more than
he’s nervous. I can tell.
My stomach clenches tightly, and for a moment, I want to run away and hide. I don’t like everyone
looking at me, or all the photos that are being taken. I don’t know on which website they’ll end up, and
I’m nervous.
“Are you ready?” Keagan asks me.
I search his eyes. He’s not just asking me as a warning that it’s going to happen, now. He genuinely
wants to know, and I have a feeling that if I say no, he might still put on the brakes.
It makes me trust him, and I nod. If he will take care of me through it all, the way he’s already
doing, then I’m ready to go public with him. Keagan smiles as if he’s relieved about my answer, as if he
thought that I might still say no.
He turns and leads me to the entrance. The cameras flash and some of them are calling questions.
“Is this your new girlfriend?” someone asks.
“Isn’t it you sister?” another asks.
Keagan laughs. “Yes,” he answers the first. “And yes, step sister. We’re not related,” he reminds
them.
 He pulls me against him and kisses me. It’s a hot kiss, deep and beautiful, and butterflies erupt in
my stomach. Keagan breaks the kiss, and we turn in the spotlight. The camera men click away, and flashes
blind me. Questions ring out in a jumble from so many different people, I don’t know which to listen to
first.
Keagan laughs. He is comfortable and relaxed. He knows who he is and how to handle these
people. I stand next to him, unsure of myself, and force a smile. I’m sure my discomfort shows.
Keagan jokes around with some of them. When they ask about our status as step siblings, he
mentions that it’s the dawn of a new era and love should have no limits, that we’re not related. I don’t
catch everything. I’m struggling to concentrate with all the flashes going off in my face.
Finally, Keagan holds up his hand.
“If we’re any later, we’ll lose our reservation,” he says.
He has his arm wrapped firmly around my waist, and he guides me toward the door when the
paparazzi aren’t around to enter. I’m relieved to be away from the limelight.
“That was intense,” I breathe when we’re away from the crowd.
“But it was good,” Keagan says and pulls me against him, kissing me again.
And he’s right. It was good. We’re public now. Keagan looks happier than I’ve ever seen him, and
the way he looks at me makes me feel like this was all worth my while, that our future looks bright. We
have real potential.
A seating hostess takes us to our table. Spago is a classy restaurant with light wooden floors and
beige walls, tables with white table clothes and dark chairs, and a huge painting of an anchor on one wall
that picks up all the colors of the room.
When we sit down, I’m aware of faces turning to us. Diners are recognizing Keagan. There aren’t
any cameras inside, and we’re not here to make an announcement, but I know they’re taking note of my
face. Tomorrow, the photo of us kissing will be all over the internet. If it isn’t already.
But for now, they don’t know who I am beyond speculation.
I’m starting to relax. The worst is over, and I can focus on being myself. Keagan is in a good mood.
He orders a bottle of champagne. “To celebrate,” he says.
We are handed our menus, and Keagan asks for the specials. This world of fame and fortune is
familiar to him, where I feel like a stranger that’s offered a glimpse into a life where I don’t belong.
Maybe, as time passes, I’ll get there. For now, I feel like an outsider.
“How are you feeling?” Keagan asks after we’ve ordered appetizers.
We’re drinking champagne, and the alcohol makes me feel light and airy.
“I’m okay, actually,” I say. “I feel better than I expected.”
Keagan smiles. “I’m glad it went well. Now, we can relax and enjoy our night.”
And we do. The food is fantastic. I eat until I can’t anymore, and everything feels special. Keagan
is in the best mood, talkative and happy. Finally, when we get up to leave, he pulls me close to him and
kisses me. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, but we ignore it.
“There are going to be a lot cameras outside,” Keagan says.
“More than before?”
He nods. “Word travels fast, and they come looking for something to print.”
I swallow. I thought it was over. I guess it’s only just beginning. Keagan takes my hand firmly and
leads me to the door. When we step outside, lights flash all around us, and it’s so bright it’s like daylight.
I’m blinded by camera flashes no matter where I look. Keagan was right. It’s a lot worse than when we
arrived.
Keagan pulls me against him, his arm around my waist, and he’s smiling. I do the same. It seems
like the safest route to take. I want to duck and run, but that would look like I have something to hide.
“Give us another kiss,” someone calls.
Keagan laughs and turns to me, planting his lips on mine. The kiss isn’t the same as before. It’s not
sensual. It’s for show. I don’t like it, but I keep smiling. Maybe this is how it’s done.
“Is this a temporary thing?” someone asks.
Keagan shrugs. “Who’s to know what the future holds? I do know that we are in love, and that is all
that matters. That will pull us through, and what will be, will be.”
My stomach twists when Keagan tells them that we’re in love. I must concentrate to keep the smile
on my face. Everything Keagan does is for show, and I don’t want to be a part of it. I won’t throw him
under the bus, though. I won’t make a public scene. I have to deal with this in private. This is what our
life will be like.
I’m getting my first taste, and I don’t know if I like it.
Keagan says one or two more things, but I just smile at the cameras and let him speak. When he
pulls me in for a final kiss, I speak to him before he can kiss me.
“Can we get out of here now?” I say it with a smile, and softly enough that no one else can hear me
but him. “I can’t deal with this much longer.”
He nods and thankfully abandons his idea to kiss me. He calls it a night and guides me away from
the cameras and to my car. He came in a cab so we can leave together.
When we’re in the car, locked in together, away from the attention, I can finally breathe again.
“How do you stand it?” I ask.
Keagan shrugs. “You get used to it. You learn how to deal with them and give them what they
want.”
I glance at him as he switches on my car and pulls out of the parking space.
“Is that why you did it?” I ask.
“Did what?”
I take a deep breath. “Told them that we’re in love. Were you just giving them what they want?”
Keagan shakes his head and looks sideways at me, puzzled.
 “No. I said it because that’s the truth.”
I shake my head. “Did you ask me?”
He blinks. “What?”
“Did you ask me if that was what I felt, or did you just decide for yourself?”
Keagan doesn’t hesitate. “I didn’t think I had to ask.”
“I would have liked it if you did. You can’t know what I’m thinking, or what I’m feeling.”
Keagan shakes his head. “I thought we knew what we felt for each other.”
I nod, looking out of the passenger window.
“I know what I feel for you, Keagan, but I would have liked the opportunity to tell you before you
just took it as a given.”
“I don’t understand why you’re upset,” he says. “It’s not a big deal.”
I’m angry now. “It’s a big deal to me. It’s my heart we’re talking about here, and my emotions.
Everything we’ve been doing has been behind closed doors, but this? I didn’t want you to just assume. I
keep giving myself to you, again and again, but you don’t once ask me what I’m feeling.”
“Dana,” he starts, but I don’t let him finish. I shake my head.
“No more, Keagan,” I say. We stop at a traffic light, and I suddenly can’t stand being around him.
Not if he will dictate who I should be. He doesn’t get to call the shots just because we fell into each
other’s arms and each other’s laps.
I open the door and get out.
“What are you doing?” Keagan asks. “Get in the car.”
“This is how it is?” I ask. “You’re just going to tell me what to do?”
He’s angry now, too. I can see it on his face. His eyes blaze, and he’s clenching his jaw.
“I don’t need this shit from you,” he says. “It’s a big deal to me to sacrifice my reputation for you.
And the moment I do, you get pissed at me?”
I slam the door shut, cutting him off. I don’t want to hear what he sacrificed for me. We’ve both
made equal sacrifices. He’s not better than I am.
Keagan is pissed off that I cut off his sentence by closing the door.
“Fine!” he shouts, loud enough that I hear his muffled voice through the closed door. He floors it
and speeds off into the night.
I’m alone in the middle of LA. It’s dark, and I don’t have anything with me other than my little
handbag that matches the dress. I start walking in the direction of my parents’ studio. I can’t think where
else to go. I can’t call my friends, and my parents’ place is the closest. I wrap my arms around myself and
start shivering, even though I’m not cold.
Did I make a mistake?
 Keagan


At first, after Dana got out of the car in the middle of nowhere, I was angry. She was being
ridiculous, I told myself, and I didn’t want to deal with her drama. I didn’t like being cut off in the middle
of my sentences, and I went through a lot to go public so that neither of us had to worry.
I expected she would come home with a cab or something.
When she didn’t come home at all, I started to worry. The next few days I tried to call her, but she
wouldn’t answer.
Now, it’s Friday, and I don’t know where she is or what she’s doing. I just know that she wants
nothing to do with me. At first, I was angry about that, too. She was just overreacting. The more I thought
about it, the more I understood why she was angry.
All I want to do now is tell her that I’m sorry and make it right. But I don’t know where the hell she
is.
Our photo was all over the news, but the thrill of it all, the rush of going public, was tainted. I don’t
care now what we do, or what happens, as long as I can speak to her.
I keep running scenarios through my mind where something went wrong, and she’s not okay. I
shouldn’t have left her alone in the streets in the middle of the night. But I was angry.
All that anger is gone now. All that’s left is regret and worry and the feeling that whatever I did
before to make it work, it was all for nothing.
I leave work early because I can’t concentrate on my work. I keep checking my phone, but I know
she won’t call me. Not if she’s not answering my calls. I haven’t spoken to anyone about what happened,
not even Mason. Everyone is still talking about us going public. I can’t exactly tell them how short-lived
our bliss was.
I decide to go talk to my dad. If someone can give me advice, it’s him. He’s not very happy about
our relationship, but he’ll be straight with me, and right now, I am in desperate need of advice.
When I go the studio, it’s closed for the day. I frown and walk to the door that leads upstairs to their
apartment above. I knock on the door. It clicks from the inside as someone unlocks it, and the door swings
open.
Dana stands in front of me like a vision.
“God, Dana, I’ve been worried sick about you,” I say.
She doesn’t answer me. She just shrugs. She’s wearing track suit pants that belong to Susan and a t-
shirt with a peace sign in flowers on it. Her hair hangs around her face, and she has dark circles beneath
her eyes like she hasn’t slept very much.
“What do you want, Keagan?” she asks. She sounds as tired as she looks.
“I wanted advice from my dad, but now that you’re here, it’s so much better.”
 She rolls her eyes, leaves the door open, and walks to the living room where she sits down on the
couch. I sit down, too.
“Please talk to me,” I say.
“What do you want me to say?”
She doesn’t sound happy. I don’t blame her.
I shake my head. “You don’t have to say anything,” I say. “I’m the one that has to do the talking.”
She pulls her legs up so that her feet are on the couch, and she hugs her knees to her chest. She
looks defensive and vulnerable. Large windows look out over the street, and I look at the view that she
seems to be studying so intently.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
Dana looks at me. “I don’t want to be in this thing for you just to call the shots and tell me what to
do.”
I nod. “I know. I was wrong. I should have talked to you about everything before I said anything to
the press. But the truth is…” I hesitate because it’s not easy for me to talk about my emotions like this. I
have to do it, though, if I want us to go anywhere. “I was scared.”
Dana blinks at me. “Of what?”
“Of telling you how I feel about you. I was scared that you might reject me. I didn’t want to ruin
what we already had, and I was scared that it would hurt when I told you.”
“Tell me what?” she asks. Her voice is breathy, her eyes large, and she looks younger than usual,
more fragile.
I take a deep breath. “That I love you.”
She stares at me for a moment, and I don’t know what to expect. Dana shakes her head back and
forth, and her eyes slide back to the view. I move from my couch to hers and take her hand.
“I’m serious,” I say. “I love you. I should have told you before I told them. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
Dana swallows. “I want to be angry at you,” she says. “But all I am is hurt.”
I nod. I understand.
“I made sacrifices, too, you know.”
I nod again. “I know. Your job. And going public. I realize it’s a bigger sacrifice for you than it is
for me. I know I was wrong.”
I raise her hand to my lips and plant a kiss on her knuckles. She looks at me, and for a moment, I
think she’s going to cry. She lets out a shuddering breath and nods.
“It’s okay,” she says in a soft voice. And I believe her. “I love you, too.”
The words are so soft from her lips I can barely hear them, but they’re there, and they are real. I
hesitate only a moment before I take her head in my hands and kiss her.
She kisses me back, carefully at first, but then the kiss intensifies, and suddenly, all I want to do is
be inside her. It’s not about lust, either. I want to claim her as mine, to take her back into my personal
space, to keep her safe and not let her go.
“Let’s move away from windows,” she says. I have a feeling she feels the same as I do, but I won’t
assume again.
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to be with you,” she says, and the way she says it tells me exactly what she means.
I get up and hold my hand out to her. She takes my hand, and I pull her against me. I’m already hard
for her, but I want to make this about her.
The only two places in the apartment with windows that allow for privacy is in the spare bedroom
and the main bedroom. There’s no way I’m going to lead Dana to the main bedroom, so we walk to the
spare, and I close the door.
“Where are they?” I ask Dana, only thinking to ask, now.
“They’re on some expedition. Chris said they’ll be all day.”
I smile at her. “Perfect.”
I step close to her, cup her face in my hands, and kiss her. I let my tongue slide into her mouth
slowly and taste her as if it’s the first time. As if I haven’t tasted her before. The kiss is deep and sensual,
drawn out and Dana melts against me.
I let my hands roam over her body, touching her everywhere, her breasts, her ribs, her stomach, her
hips, her groin, her ass, her back. I slide my hands over her in one big caress. Her breathing gets harder as
I do, and I can tell that she’s getting turned on by it. The urge grows inside me, but I don’t act on it. I want
to keep this soft and sensual. I want to show her that I love her.
Slowly, I start to undress her. Piece by piece, I get rid of her clothing, and she does the same for
me. When we’re both naked, I guide her back to lay on the bed. I crawl over her body and kiss her again. I
make my way down her jawline and onto her neck, focusing on the delicate skin below her ear, the dip
above her collarbone, and then her chest. I kiss a line between her two breasts and over her stomach. I
shower her with kisses, worshipping her body.
She breathes harder and moves beneath my hands and lips, but I don’t touch her anywhere sexual. I
want to kiss her, to love her, and to show her how beautiful she is. When my mouth reaches the dip above
her hip bone, she shudders. I open her legs and work my way down her legs, kissing the insides of her
thighs. I smell her scent with her legs open, and it damn near drives me crazy, but I’m not done.
I keep kissing her down one leg and then back up the other. I roll her over and do the same with the
back of her body, crawling up from her feet. Every inch I kiss, I cover with my own body until I’m lying
almost on top of her, keeping my weight off her body enough not to crush her beneath me.
“Keagan,” she breathes. I know I’m torturing her. “Please, I need more.”
I know she can feel my cock against her ass, the feel of my flesh thick and hard, resting against her
ass cheek. Her skin is burning hot, and I want to take her, but I don’t want to do it for the sake of getting
off.
 Dana rolls over onto her back again. I kiss her on the mouth, my tongue playing with hers, and press
the length of my body against hers. She sighs into my mouth. My body aches for her, but I am resolute. I
want to take it slow, and I will control myself.
I kiss her again, showering her body with kisses. This time, I include her breasts. I take each nipple
into my mouth in turn and suck gently on her. I knead her breasts and run my hands down her ribs and hips,
feeling her, touching her. She’s petite in my hands, and being bigger and stronger than her makes me feel
protective of her.
I won’t hurt her again, I tell myself. I will protect her, the way a man should do for his woman.
“Please,” she begs and her thighs fall open for me.
I nestle myself between them, and it takes a lot not to push into her, but I don’t want to do anything
other than make love to her, and I’m going to draw it out as long as it’s necessary for her to realize how
much I feel for her, and how much she means to me. It’s not just about sex with her, even though it’s mind-
blowing sex. It’s about so much more.
She sighs when I rest between her hips, not pressing myself against her entrance. My skin touches
hers, and that’s what I want. I can satisfy my hunger for her later. Right now, I want to make sure that
everything is right between us.
 Dana


He’s driving me mad. His kisses all over my body drive me crazy. He leaves a trail of fire behind
wherever his mouth touches me, and he strategically avoids all my sexual areas so that I’m writhing with
anticipation. The denial frustrates me, just as much as it turns me on.
I know he wants me. I can feel him, hard against my body when he presses himself against me. He
wants me just as much as I want him, but he’s drawing it out. I can feel the love and the affection that he’s
feeling with all the attention he’s paying me. At first, it was great to feel so loved. It was great to be
treated like that, like he’d heard what I said and took it to heart.
Now, it’s just torture.
“Please, Keagan,” I beg for the third time. “I really need you to fuck me.”
He looks up at me, and his eyes are full of things I can’t decipher right now. I’m too horny. He
smiles at me, and I don’t know if he’s going to torture me further or give me what I want.
I’m on my back again. He’s kissed every inch of my body except the parts that are aching for
attention now.
Keagan runs his hands over my body, and it’s like my nerve endings are on fire. Every touch makes
me shiver. I want him that badly. My lust, my eagerness for his body, curls inside me, and I need a release
to ease of the tension that I’ve been dealing with the for the past three days.
His hands slide over my thighs, and I open my legs for him, putting myself on display, showing him
what I want. I’m wet. I can feel it, and I know that he can see it when he looks down at my pussy because
his eyes become dark with that hunger that fills men’s eyes when they look at a woman and they know for
sure what’s going to happen. He dips his head, and I hold my breath, almost too nervous to hope for
something more than the torture he’s been handing out.
Keagan closes his lips on my pussy, and I shiver. He sticks out his tongue and licks down the length
of my slit and back up as if he’s tasting me. I can smell my own scent. I’m that aroused. I know that it must
be driving him crazy, but he’s in absolute control today.
When he flicks his tongue over my clit, my body jerks and I moan. This is what I was waiting for.
Keagan flicks his tongue back and forth a few times before he closes his lips over my clit and sucks.
I cry out. The sensation is so erotic, so charged with pleasure, and my body drinks it in after being
made to wait so long for it. An orgasm builds almost immediately. I close my thighs around his head a
little to keep him in place and buck my hips, mashing myself against his face, my body begging for more.
When he decides it’s enough, he stops. My body aches for him, and I don’t want him to stop, but
Keagan rolls onto his back, next to me, and I climb onto him, straddling his hips with my legs. His cock is
thick and hard along his lower stomach. I stroke it with the tips of my fingers, bend down, and suck on him
once or twice to lube him up. Then I lean forward and guide him to my entrance.
 The tip presses in, and I groan. Release from the intense horniness is finally on the horizon. Before
I can sit down on him, he pushes down on the bed and moves away from me again, his thick flesh flopping
back onto his stomach.
I pull a face at him, and he grins at me. I want him so badly, and he knows it, but he insists on
making it hard for me to have him. He’s teasing me.
He rubs his hands over my arms, my stomach, and over my breasts. He tugs at my nipples, and I
sigh in frustration.
“Okay,” he says and nods.
I reach for him and position myself onto him again, guiding him to my entrance. I need to fuck him.
When I start sliding down, his cock pushing into me, Keagan pulls me forward by my shoulders, and he
can’t slide in any deeper. I’m about to cry out in frustration at his tactics to stop me from doing it.
He holds me in this angle and moves his hips forward and back, so that his tip slips in and out of
me. It’s great. Just enough to make me want him more, but not nearly enough to be satisfying.
“Give me more, baby,” I say.
He grins when I call him a pet name. Until now, I’ve only called him by his real name.
“I like it when you beg,” he says. “Do it some more.”
I narrow my eyes at him. I know he likes it when I beg, and usually I don’t want to, but I’m aching
for him, and I need him in a bad way.
“Please, let me fuck you,” I say. “I need you so badly.”
He smiles. His eyes are dark, the pupils dilated, and his grin is satisfied.
“I like your dirty mouth when we do this,” he says.
I smile at him. “For all the things you like about me, you don’t show it very well by denying me.
Please, just give it to me.”
His grin widens, and I know I’m giving him what he wants. It’s endearing to see him this pleased,
and I’m willing to give him what he wants from time to time. I smile at him, too.
He nods slowly, and I think I’m finally allowed to move things forward. I sit down on him slowly,
to test the waters. He doesn’t stop me or pull me back, and he sinks into me until he’s deep inside of me. I
groan. I will never get used to the orgasmic feel of him inside of me from the very moment he enters me. I
close my eyes and move my hips from side to side a little, getting used to the feel of him. I lean forward
and kiss him.
Keagan wraps his arms around my back, pinning my arms to my sides, and he starts bucking his
hips underneath me, slamming his cock into my pussy. I cry out as he nails me hard from beneath me, and I
drop my head onto his chest and let him take me like that. He fucks me like this for a while, holding me in
place, completely in control, even though I’m on top of him.
I don’t mind. The feeling takes over, and I can’t think straight. I’m focused only on the sensation of
being fucked, of his cock sliding in and out of me, of my body responding by clamping down on him, and
the beautiful feeling of an orgasm building.
But I don’t want to come. Not yet. And I know that he won’t let me. He likes to draw it out. I’m
starting to be able to read him.
Just as I think it, he stops. I sit up, breathing hard from the sensations. He’s breathing hard, too,
from exertion. His eyes are bright, and he flashes a lopsided grin at me. He’s proud of himself, of the
torture.
I smile back at him. Two can play at this game.
I move my hips, bucking them back and forth a bit. He closes his eyes. I push myself up on my knees
so that his tip is inside me and nothing more. When he opens his eyes, he must see my expression because
he smiles again.
“I’m driving, now,” I say.
I slide back down his cock, very slowly. As soon as he reaches my cervical wall, I push myself up
again and pull him out. I carry on doing this, moving up and down his cock so slowly it’s torture, even for
me. But the look on his face says it all.
The hunger in his eyes grows, and his lips are parted. He’s breathing hard. His hands are on my
hips, and he’s trying to push me down farther onto his cock, but I won’t let him.
Of course, if he really wanted to, he could. But it’s a game, and he knows it’s my turn to play it.
Keagan groans when I keep up my slow pace, driving him crazy with my body the same way he did
for me. I like it when he’s going crazy the way he is now, even better when it’s because of me and not just
his own lust.
I lean down while I slowly ride his cock, and my breasts are close to his face. He lifts his head and
takes a nipple into his mouth. I close my eyes. I’m balanced for a moment between his lips and his cock,
and I want to ride him harder and faster, but I’m going to draw this out for as long as I can.
I pull away so that he can’t suck on my nipple anymore. He reaches for my breasts, but I wrap my
fingers around his wrist as far as I can and gently put his hands on either side of his head. I’m not nearly
strong enough to pin him down, of course, but he gets the hint, and he plays along. Even though we both
know I’m not exactly strong enough to overpower him, the gesture grows the hunger in his eyes, and I like
that he’s at my mercy.
His face makes it all worth it. He lies stretched out on the bed, his arms up by his head, and his
eyes full of desire. I’m on his cock, sliding up and down slowly, and I can’t think of a better way to do
makeup sex after we haven’t spoken for three days. When I walked away from him, I didn’t know if we
were going to fix it. I didn’t know if I’d made a mistake by agreeing to be with him, by agreeing to go
public so quickly.
Now, I think I’ve made the right choice. Everyone makes mistakes, including Keagan, and I don’t
think this will be our last fight. But if we can kiss and make up, or fuck and make up, as the case may be,
then we can get through anything.
 “You’re driving me crazy,” Keagan says.
I smile. “I like it when you beg,” I say, throwing his own words back at him.
He smiles. “I see what you did there.”
“Other than you?”
I stick my tongue out at him. He pulls his hand away, proof that I wasn’t holding him down at all,
and he grabs me behind the neck, pulling me down to him. He kisses me hard, his tongue entering my
mouth, and he tastes me, his tongue searching, exploring. His kiss is urgent. His other arm snakes around
my waist, but I know what he’s going to do, and I stop him, pushing his arm away. Again, he can do it if he
wants to. I can’t stop him with what little strength I have compared to his. But he plays along and groans.
“How long are you going to keep doing this?” he asks.
I shrug. “Until we’re even.”
We kiss again, but this time, I’m in control. I lick his lips. When he leans up to kiss me, I pull back
just enough for our lips to keep touching but nothing more, nothing satisfying. When he sticks out his
tongue to lick me, I pull back as well. He can’t have any more than I’m giving him.
“This is terrible!” he cries out.
I smile. “Just beg me, baby.”
He shakes his head, a smile on his lips. “I want you to fuck me,” he groans.
His mouth is smiling, but his eyes are hungry, and his voice doesn’t sound like he’s joking when he
speaks. It’s a throaty sound, thick with need, and I can feel how badly he wants me with the way he speaks
the words.
I lean down and kiss him again.
 Keagan


She’s driving me up the wall because she’s doing to me exactly what I’ve done to her. It’s the
ultimate lesson in do unto others what you want them to do to you. I’m writhing beneath her, eager to take
her, but she’s telling me not to, and I won’t do it. I like this game we’re playing.
Now that we’ve kissed and made up, Dana is herself again, warm and beautiful, kind and gentle.
And she’s fun, too. Until now, I’ve called all the shots in our sex life, but I think I’ll let her choose what
we do sometimes. She knows just how to get me horny as hell, and then not to give it to me. She knows
how to drive me insane.
She won’t just ride me like she normally does. She’s teasing me. A big part of me wants in, but a
part of me wants her to keep the control like this. I want to see how far she draws it out. The torture,
although it makes me so horny it’s almost painful, is delicious.
I only let her carry on for a short while longer because I can’t bear any more than that. I put my
arms around her back and pull her forward again, putting herself at an angle and me in control.
I shove my cock into her deep, and she cries out. I fuck her hard for one, two, three strokes, enough
to get the urge back under control, before I pull back again, and we play the torture game again. I can keep
doing this all day. I’m delighted to know that she can, too.
My tip is inside her, and she writhes, aching for more. I buck my hips, fucking her with only the tip,
and I know it’s driving her crazy. Her face is pulled into that mask of erotic ecstasy, but she’s biting her
lower lip, her brows are furrowed, and if I didn’t know better, I would have said there was pain, too. But
it’s not pain. Its desperation born from pleasure denial. It’s my favorite kind of pain because it doesn’t
hurt at all, but it makes her beg and beg.
I look up at her, and I’m frozen in time. It feels like it’s been forever since Dana and I first fucked
on the floor in her old apartment. Since then, so much has happened between us. We’ve been through a lot,
mind-blowing sex, getting closer, going public, and fighting. When she got out of my car, I wasn’t sure
where we stood. I thought that maybe going public was all for nothing. But now that she told me she loves
me the same way I love her, I have hope that we can have a future together.
She’s on top of me, and she’s all mine. I like that. And the world knows it, now. It’s not always
going to be easy. There are times that we’re going to fight, that she’s going to be furious with me again, or
that the pressure of our relationship being public is going to get to us.
But as I look up at her now, I know that it’s what I want. Dana is beautiful, not just on the outside,
but inside, too. She is the perfect woman, and I have her all to myself.
I slide my hands down her arms until her hands are in mine and interlink our fingers. Her eyes open,
and she looks at me with a mixture of pleasure and adoration on her face.
“I love you,” I say.
 I don’t usually say it during sex. It always makes me feel like I’m saying it because of the sex, then.
Or at least, it used to. With Dana, it feels different. It feels like the sex is a byproduct of what I feel for
her.
A fucking fantastic byproduct, at that.
Dana smiles at me. “I love you,” she breathes. Her voice is husky, full of desire, and I love the
sound of it when it gets like this. I grin at her.
I push myself into her again, and she gasps. She wasn’t expecting it. I pull out all the way, this time
not even my tip is inside of her now. I let go of one hand and grab my dick with my own hand, guiding it to
her pussy. But I don’t push into her entrance again. Instead, I rub the head against her clit, using it as an
oversized finger to circle the small little nub.
Dana closes her eyes and moans. I can tell by her face what it feels like. I keep circling her clit and
running my head up and down her slit, hovering at her entrance as a tease before I return to her clit. She
wiggles around, moving her hips, trying to concentrate the feeling either on her clit or to get my cock back
inside of her. I chuckle at her efforts. It’s beautiful.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” she accuses me of the obvious. “Please, just give it to me already.”
I smile, and I keep at what I’m doing. I don’t do as she asks. I want her to really want me. I want
her to want me so much that she’s the one that ends up taking me. It’s not about control or anything. I just
want her to build up so much desperation that when she lets loose, it will be fantastic.
Her mouth is open and her lips are parted like the attention to her clit might be bringing on an
orgasm. But I move away my cock every time her face looks like that, denying her what she craves. She
moans in protest and moves her hips, but she’s riding nothing but air.
When she opens her eyes again, her pupils are large, and her expression has changed from
desperation to determination. She only lets me play with her a little longer before she takes control.
She leans forward, pushes my hand away, and wraps her fingers around my cock. She positions it at
her entrance and sits down on me so that I slide in all the way to the hilt. She moans when I’m inside of
her, and the sensation draws a groan out of me as well. She gasps, frozen for a moment, taking in the feel,
and then she starts moving her hips.
She starts bucking her hips back and forth, riding me. Her pussy slides over my cock, and I’m
moving in and out, in and out. She picks up the pace and fucks me harder and harder so that pleasure
overwhelms me. I put my hands on her thighs and just look at her, riding me, taking control.
Pleasure courses though me, making me forget everything but Dana and what she’s doing on top of
me. Her knees rub against the cover on the bed, and her breasts jiggle, but she’s relentless and doesn’t
slow down her pace.
She leans forward, and the intensity increases, the friction building. Her breasts are close to my
face, and I take a nipple into my mouth and suck on it. I put my hand on that breast to keep my mouth on
her while she’s rocking back and forth. She moans and gasps when I suck on her.
 I don’t do it for very long. She slows down her pace a little for me to do it, and I don’t want her to
slow down. I want her to keep fucking me. I can feel an orgasm building, and I want her to see it through
to the end.
Her body starts twitching on mine, her walls clamping down on me, and I know she’s getting closer,
too. I hold out for a while. I want to come when she does and release when she orgasms. When we come
together, it’s so much more intense. It feels like we’re connected, even in a way that sex alone can’t do for
us, and I want that with her again. It’s happened before, and I want it to be like that every time we finish.
Of course, we’ll get there. Practice makes perfect, and I’m willing to put in the hours.
Dana falters a little, her pace slowing. She’s getting tired, and I don’t blame her. She leans forward,
and I wrap my arms around her back, hugging to my chest. I pump my hips into her again from beneath,
fucking her hard as she lies on top of me. She cries out and gasps in my ear.
Her hot breath is on my neck, her hair feathers on my shoulder, and she’s gasping and shuddering,
her whole body responding to my cock in shivers and a series of twitches. She’s close to coming. I can
hear it in her breathing. I’m getting closer, too. My balls are tight, ready to explode.
When I can’t hold it back any longer, I release inside of her with a cry. I push my hips up, ramming
into her as far as I’ll go, and my cock spasm and jerks, emptying my load inside of her. I groan, and I don’t
know which part of my orgasm kick starts her own, but Dana tumbles into the abyss with me and she cries
out.
Her cry is a lot sharper and louder than mine, and I feel her walls clamp down on me and convulse
and contract around my cock, milking me. Waves of pleasure wash through my body, and it feels like I
keep coming and coming. Her orgasm is drawn out as well, and she shudders on me, her skin riddled with
goosebumps, her breathing shallow in my ear.
Finally, the orgasm starts to fade. My cock stops twitching, and slowly, Dana grows still on top of
me, too. We’re both breathing hard, our chests tight against each other, and my heart beat drums against
hers. Our skin is slick with sweat. Dana lifts her head and looks at me with a sated smile. I grin back at
her.
“That was fantastic,” she says in a hoarse voice, like the screaming and moaning had taken away
her voice.
I put my hand on her cheek, tracing her profile with my fingertips, and I nod. It was great for me,
too.
Dana lies down on me again, and she’s curled over my body, my cock still inside of her. She tucks
her arms in, and we lie together like that for a bit.
“We should probably get dressed,” she says.
Just as she does, we hear a car outside and doors slamming.
“Definitely,” I say.
Susan and my dad are back, and I don’t want them walking in on their two kids having sex in their
spare bedroom.
Dana rolls off me, and when she climbs off me, we both whimper a little. She searches for her
clothes. I pull on mine. When I’m dressed, she turns to me and fixes my collar. I smile and kiss her before
we straighten the cover on the bed and hurry to the living room.
We sit down on the couch as if we’d been talking there the whole time, just as the front door opens,
and Susan walks in first.
She looks surprised to see me, and then she smiles.
“I told you he would come for you,” she says to Dana.
I look at her. I didn’t realize that it was a question she had.
“Always,” I answer.
My dad walks into the room as well.
“Well, a reunion right in our front room,” he says.
I’m not sure if he’s happy about it or not. Dana and I both nod.
“I’m glad you guys have sorted it all out,” Susan says.
Dana and I smile. Sorting it out is an understatement.
We grin at each other, knowing what we’d nearly been caught doing.
 Epilogue - Dana


One year later
I’m in the car with Keagan, and he’s driving across town, weaving in and out of the late afternoon
traffic that’s starting to build.
“Where are we going?” I ask. “I still need to shower before we go to dinner.”
“It’s a surprise,” Keagan says. “And you’ll have plenty of time to get ready when we’re done. I just
want to show you something.”
I reach for him, putting my hand on his thigh. He takes my hand in his and raises it to his lips,
kissing my knuckles. I smile at him and turn my face to the passenger window.
Since we got back together a year ago, I never moved out. I’m still living with him. It just seemed
practical.
A few weeks later, I got a job with another design firm, and they knew who I was and what I am to
Keagan from the get go. I prefer honesty and being open about my life. I don’t like secrets.
Our relationship hasn’t been easy in the slightest with the public attention, especially at first. They
were all over us in the beginning, and the pressure was on. But as time passed, the press got bored with us
and started following other celebrities around again. Still, whenever we go out, like tonight’s dinner, there
is someone taking a snap of us. All that’s posted now is how happy we are together, still going strong after
a year and defying the odds.
I like it when they write things like that about us, because it’s true. You never know where you’ll
find love, and we have defied the odds for sure.
Keagan finally turns and pulls into a parking lot that looks familiar. I look around.
“Where are we?” I ask, and then I see it. “We’re at school?”
He chuckles. “Sort of.”
We both get out. The school isn’t being used anymore, but it’s only been closed, not demolished or
remade. Everything looks almost the same as when we still came here, except for the trees being bigger
and the place looking like a ghost town.
“What are we doing here?”
Keagan walks to the gate, and I notice that it’s not locked. He pushes it open.
“Why isn’t that locked?” I ask.
“I called in a favor. It helps to be famous and rich. I can pull all sorts of strings.”
I shake my head and smile. I’m not sure why we’re here, but I’m up for a stroll down memory lane.
Keagan lets me walk through the gate first, the perfect gentleman, and closes it again behind us. We walk
around the building. I can see from here that the front doors are locked, and I don’t feel like going inside a
creepy abandoned school, no matter how good the memories.
 We walk to a tree at the far end of the grounds.
“This tree has gotten so much bigger,” I say, touching the bark.
Keagan nods.
“Time changes everything,” he says. “But it never changes how I feel about you.”
I smile at him. “You’re being all poetic,” I say. I turn and look around the grounds. It’s strange
standing here again, and memories flood through my mind.
“This is exactly where I was standing when I decided,” Keagan says.
“Decided what?”
“That I was going to pursue the cute girl I had a crush on.”
I smile at him and lean against him, my head on his shoulder.
“You always had good taste,” I say.
He chuckled. “And I got the girl I wanted.”
We stand together in silence for a while. Then Keagan moves away from me, and I look at him,
confused. He has a strange expression on his face, and he swallows hard, like he’s nervous.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He nods. “I brought you here because I wanted to come full circle.”
I frown at him. “Full circle? What do you mean?”
Keagan drops to his knee, and it takes me a moment to realize what he’s doing. He takes a small
black box out of his pocket, and I clap my hands to my mouth, a lump suddenly in my throat.
“I love you, Dana White,” Keagan says, opening the box to show a ring with a stunning diamond.
“Marry me.”
“Oh, my god,” I say, stunned. I don’t even have to think about the answer, though. “Yes!”
Keagan grins at me and takes out the ring, sliding it onto my finer. I wrap my arms around his neck
and kiss him.
“I love you, too,” I say.
I can’t believe it. We’re engaged. When I let go of him, I study the ring closer. The diamond is huge,
but it’s set in smaller diamonds that make an intricate pattern all around it. It’s fit for a princess.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
I nod. “I love it,” I say. I would have been happy with anything. I’m engaged to Keagan now, and
that makes me happier than anything in the world. But the ring is gorgeous.
I hug him again, and he cups my face in his hands and kisses me. When he breaks the kiss, he takes
my hand in his, and our fingers interlink. I’m aware of the ring on my finger, the feeling still foreign, but
oh so welcome. Hand in hand, we walk back to the car.
The parking lot is empty, and there’s no traffic passing the area where the old school is situated.
We’re the only ones around. Keagan pulls me against him, pressing me against the car. His hands are on
my hips, and he nuzzles my neck. I laugh because it tickles. He presses his crotch against me, and he’s
hard.
“Are you turned on?” I ask.
He nods against my neck, his lips working the skin, and I’m starting to feel aroused, too. He knows
just which buttons to hit.
“Being engaged to you makes me horny. We should fuck to seal the deal.”
“Isn’t that when you get married?” I ask.
“Okay, we’ll do it then, too.”
I laugh. He cuts off my laughter with another kiss, and his hand slides onto my breast. We’re in
public, and I look around.
“No one’s here to see, baby,” Keagan says. His eyes are on me, and they’re drowning deep.
“I want you here and now,” he says.
“But we’re in a parking lot.”
He presses himself against me again, and my body responds. Heat washes through me and pools
between my legs. I’m suddenly breathing harder, and I ache for him now.
“Do you think?” I ask, looking at the back seat.
“Definitely,” Keagan says and opens the door.
He climbs into the backseat first, and I follow. The door is barely closed when his hands are on my
breasts, kneading, tugging at my blouse. I can’t take it off out here, but he works his hand into my collar,
and his fingers find my tight nipple. He pinches it lightly, and I gasp.
His hand trails down my body and onto my crotch where he cups my pussy through my pants. I want
him badly now.
I sigh in frustration and start undoing my pants.
“When we get caught, the bail money is coming out of your account,” I threaten.
Keagan laughs. “It’s a price I’m more than willing to pay.”
He looks down at me as I peel off my pants, hunger clear on his face. I reach for him, undoing his
buckle and unzipping his pants. It’s easier to get to him than it is to get to me.
I take his hard cock out of his pants, and it stands up, hard and proud. I struggle to get onto his lap
in the confined space, but then I’m straddling his hips, and I sit down on him. His cock pushes into me and
we both groan.
I sit down on him and he cups my breast again. I look around to see if we’re being watched at all,
but there’s no one.
I start bouncing up and down on his cock, and the sounds of our moaning and groaning fills the
small space in the car, wrapping around us. My hands are on his shoulder, and the diamond ring glints on
my finger. I keep bouncing up and down, fucking him, and his breath becomes ragged. His eyes are on
mine the whole time, and even though it’s quick and dirty out here, it’s more like making love than fucking.
Keagan is closer to coming than usual. I can tell by the way his eyes change, and he gets a look of
concentration on his face. It takes time together to read each other, and we’re getting to know each other
better and better.
I want to come when he does. It’s my favorite when we do it at the same time. I reach between my
legs and find my clit. I rub it furiously while I’m bouncing up and down on his cock, bringing myself to the
brink of an orgasm. The thrill of doing it in public, of maybe being caught, pushes us both closer in record
time.
When Keagan swallows hard and tips his head back, I know that he’s there, and I sit down on him,
hard. He releases inside me, cries out, and the sound and sensation kicks me over the edge, too.
We come together, his cock twitching inside me, my body squeezing him, milking him, and we’re
caught in a flurry of passion for a moment.
The orgasms, albeit strong, are over as quickly as they came, and I clamber off Keagan and find my
pants, pulling them up. I know it’s going to be a mess, but I’ll clean up at home.
“I’m not nearly done with you yet,” Keagan says to me in a throaty voice when he watches me get
dressed. “That was just an appetizer.”
I grin and kiss him. We get out of the back seat and walk around to the front seat. Keagan gets
behind the steering wheel, and I sit next to him. He pulls out of the parking lot.
“That was spectacular,” I say.
Keagan nods. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” he says.
I smile. I can’t wait for that, either.
When Keagan pulls into traffic again, the smell of sex and happiness hangs in the car. He’s holding
my hand as we drive. I look out of the passenger window at the cars passing us.
“What do you think Chris and my mom will say?” I ask.
Chris hasn’t exactly been happy about us being together, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.
He didn’t tell us off every other day, so it was fine. But I would have liked to have his blessing.
Of course, we are old enough to do what we want, and this is going to happen either way.
“I think Susan will have seen it coming,” Keagan says.
My mom always knows things in advance. I nod.
“And my dad will just have to get used to the idea,” he adds. “He knows what love is, and he can’t
deny that we love each other. That’s all we need.”
Keagan kisses my hand again, and we drive in silence toward home. We’re going out to dinner, but
I know that Keagan will have his way with me again first.
And I’m more than happy about that.
 Baby Bargain


A Billionaire Baby Contract Romance

By Vivien Vale



Copyright © 2018 by Crimson Vixens
All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including
information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use
of brief quotations in a book review.


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 Daniel


If I’m not mistaken—and I rarely fucking am—I think my secretary is wearing a ball gag as a
necklace today.
“Sorry to bother you, sir,” she says, as that big red rubber ball jiggles against her throat.
She’s tightened the leather straps up enough that it could reasonably be mistaken for a choker, but
I’m not some uninitiated fuck—I didn’t exactly get my first erection yesterday.
“Make it quick.” I don’t have time to question my secretary’s more-than-questionable fashion
choices. If I don’t figure out why the columns on this report aren’t adding up by the end of the day, I won’t
know which incompetent jackass in accounting to fire tomorrow morning.
“It’s just, uh, your mother is here,” she informs me.
And then, right on cue, my mother flounces in. Doesn’t even give me time to feel sorry for myself.
“Danny, darling!” my mother coos, trotting into my office on a pair of peep-toe heels the color of
cotton candy vomit. “How’s my favorite businessman? Give mommy a little smooch, that’s a good dear.”
I roll my eyes—but I do as I’m bid. My mother is as vapid and air-headed as they come, but she’s
still the woman who gave birth to me, and for that, she can have as many cheek-kisses as she wants. I just
wish she’d stop fucking calling them smooches—and I wish she would have left Muffins the Purse Dog at
home for once.
“Missed you too, Mom,” I relent, keeping an eye on Muffins. His fluffy, feral little head pops up out
of my mother’s Chanel purse just as I’m enveloped by the scent of No. 5—her favorite perfume.
To his credit, Muffins doesn’t fucking growl at me on sight anymore—but he does look like he’s
ready to take a jealousy shit in my mother’s handbag any minute now.
“Maybe you should let my secretary take Muffins on a walk, Mom,” I suggest. I’d hate for Mom’s
latest husband—whoever he is—to have to replace a sold-out handbag—plus, if my secretary really is
wearing a ball gag, I’m sure she knows her way around a leash.
“Nonsense, honey,” Mom says, sitting on my desk like she thinks she’s still a teenager or something.
That’s my mother for you. Mentally, she hasn’t aged a day since 18. Physically, her plastic surgeon
does what he can.
“Muffins and I are here as a team, darling. We’re on a mission today, you see.”
I shake my head and take the bait. “And what might that be?”
“We have a date for you, honey.” She says it like I’m supposed to be excited—or surprised. I’m
not. “Muffins picked her out special, just for you! Didn’t you, schnuckums?”
While my mother feeds her purse dog a doggie treat, I’m just trying to suppress a groan.
“Oh, dear, don’t look like that,” my mother reprimands. “This one, Danny—she’s a keeper. Nice,
wide, childbearing hips—and, I only think she’s had three nose jobs, so you know she’s got good genes
for Dr. Scalpel to work with.”
Dr. fucking Scalpel. My mother knows that I have no intentions of settling down any time soon, and
she’s already planning my children’s first elective surgeries.
“That’s sweet of you, Mom,” I say cordially, “but I think I’ll pass.”
“You’re not getting any younger, Danny.”
“Not without Dr. Scalpel’s help, I’m not.”
“And you know how I’ve always wanted grandchildren…”
“You have grandchildren,” I remind her. “Fendi has four kids, Mom. Chanel has two. Prada just had
twins last week, for fuck’s sake—and she’s barely even sixteen.”
“Ruff!” Muffins barks aggressively. Briefly, I consider tipping over the purse—but then he might
shit on my carpet, so I think better of it.
“Yes,” my mother agrees. “And I’m sure that for as long as your half-sisters can find YouTube stars
to have unprotected sex with, they’ll give me plenty more. But I haven’t done everything I’ve done for
them, Danny honey. I did it for you. For us. You need to start thinking about your legacy, sweetheart.”
I have to hand it to my mother: she knows exactly where to twist the knife.
I never knew my father, but from my mother’s stories about him, I’m better off this way. She had me
when she was the same age as Prada is now, and he left her without even bothering to stick around for my
birth.
Ever since, Mom has been enterprising in the only way I think she’s ever known how. Her next
relationships were calculated affairs with rich old geezers who took us in, fed us, clothed us, and taught
me everything there was to know about their business empires.
Even once they knocked Mom up and the relationship soured, her ex-husbands always kept an
interest in me. Put me through some of the top business schools in the country and—to my surprise—even
named me heir to their fortunes over their own children.
Part of me feels like Mom screwed over my half-sisters for life in that regard. Can anyone really
blame them for all their accidental pregnancies and the strip clubs they’ve inadvertently burned down?
They’re sweethearts, but she did name them after her favorite purses—one of which, from the smell
of things, Muffin is shitting in literally as we speak.
“I’m not even thirty-five yet, Mom. I’ve got the entire fortunes of three of your ex-husbands to blow
before I have to start worrying about who might inherit them.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “We both know that’s not true. You’ve always been a responsible boy,
Danny. You’re smarter than that. If you don’t want to go on the date with the nose-job girl, that’s fine—but
it’s high time you stopped fucking sluts on your desk and started thinking about finding one to give you a
baby—one who’s worthy of being your wife.”
I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
She’s not exactly wrong. I care more about her ex-husbands’ resort chains than I do about what
bimbo I’m currently bending over my desk—which is why I had six of them in here last night, all lined up
and begging for my dick.
It’s why I keep a drawer full of condoms in my desk, too. I hardly need an army of bastards running
around my city, considering that I’m a bastard myself.
“Just think about it, darling,” my mother implores me. “A wife and a baby—it could be good for
you. I only want to see you happy, you know, and—awwwwww, did Muffins do a widdle poop? Did
Muffins ruin Mommy’s expensive handbag?”
It happens that fast. Just as quickly as my mother blew into my day, she’s already gathering her
things and meandering back out of it, cooing at her handbag and holding it at arm’s length as she goes.
“Have a good day, Mom,” I call after her.
“You too, dear,” she says. I can hear her stop at my secretary’s desk on the way out. “Oh, my! What
a gorgeous necklace, sweetie! You absolutely must tell me where you got it!”
Then the door closes behind her, and I’m alone again.
I try working once she’s gone. It’s no fucking use. Maybe it’s the lingering scent of Muffin-shit in
the air, or maybe she’s really planted the idea in my head the way she hoped.
I don’t want my mother worrying about me.
And I don’t want to see all my hard work go to waste.
A wife. An heir.
It sounds fucking preposterous is what it sounds like. I’m not husband material—and I’m certainly
not worthy of being a fucking father.
I’m a loose cannon—a bad boy sowing my wild oats like my father before me, only I have the
decency to be fucking responsible about it. My wild oats ultimately end up safely contained inside a
condom—and then immediately dumped in the trash.
I look at the pictures on my desk of my half-sisters and myself. There’s one of Prada and me on her
seventh birthday, just before she stabbed the party clown with the cake knife, and I had to talk him out of
pressing charges.
There’s another of me with Fendi and Chanel at that underwater night club I helped them open, just
before they hooked the oxygen intake tubes up to bottles of vodka and all the mermaid performers nearly
drowned.
Admittedly, I don’t love the idea of those three taking over my empire if something were to happen
to me.
Maybe I do need an heir.
But to have an heir, I need to find the right woman—and to find the right woman, I need to clear my
fucking head.
“Cancel the rest of my appointments for the day,” I tell my secretary.
“Yes, master—I mean, uh, yes sir,” she calls after me.
 “And no more bondage porn while you’re at work!” I shout over my shoulder—because, yeah, I
fucking saw what was on her computer screen before she closed the window.
“Sorry, sir!”
I drive through the city until I see a place where I can clear my head. It looks like some shit out of a
bad Lewis Carroll novel—but on the bright side, at least no fucking women will be approaching me,
trying to get me to bend them over the Mad Hatter’s tea table for a quickie.
Inside, there’s a woman sitting at a table with her three very pregnant friends. Exactly the kind of
woman I’d want to put a baby in, really—not that I’m genuinely considering that right now.
I don’t know if it’s because I feel a sort of solidarity with her after the talk I just had with my
mother—or if it’s because she’s just so fucking gorgeous that I can’t help myself—but I shoot her a
sympathetic look as I walk past.
She doesn’t even fucking notice—and when I walk into a room, women always notice.
Incredible. Today’s just not my fucking day.
I order, grabbing a table near hers. From the sounds of things, her friends are planning a baby
shower.
Fucking inescapable, this baby thing today.
But if she doesn’t want to be the odd one out…
 Rose


Alice’s Tea Cup is supposed to a fanciful, whimsical kind of place.
Actually, the place is called Alice’s Tea Cup Chapter Two, since the original location is
downtown. All part of the charm, I suppose.
The tables are set low to the ground, surrounded by uncomfortable-looking stools—except for the
coveted corner table.
Of course, my cousins somehow managed to score that spot, creating a boisterous little corner
enclave surrounded by paintings of mushrooms, caterpillars, and a spiral-eyed Mad Hatter.
I hear my oldest cousin Katheryn’s brassy voice sailing through the air the moment I step inside.
“So, Lyle’s all like, ‘Uh, I don’t know...’”
“Wait, wait,” Sarah interrupts as I walk to their corner island. “Who the fuck is Lyle?”
“The party planner at the supply store.”
“Lyle? That’s his name?” Sarah laughs.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t be able to make this shit up. Anyway, he’s all like, ‘Duhhhh, I don’t know about
that.’”
Jenna’s the first to notice me as I walk towards the table, waving me over with her hand while my
other two cousins carry on.
“If that’s what you asked for, he should get it for you!” Sarah shrieks.
“Tell me about it! Then Joseph, my own husband Joseph, backs him up.”
“What? No, he didn’t,” I yell, announcing my presence.
Sarah and Katheryn turn towards me and squeal in delight, waving me over. Jenna slides over,
making room for me at the only padded booth in the tea shop.
I’m a little late to the planning party, but it’s not for me anyway. All three of my cousins are
pregnant, making them the guests of honor at their three-way baby shower.
I’m just going to be a regular guest. Lucky me.
“Oh, he totally did,” Katheryn responds to my statement. “And I’m just like, ‘You’re my husband,
bitch. Back me the fuck up, not this bitch-ass party supply guy.’”
“Damn right. And what did he have to say to that?” I ask, sitting down.
“Oh my god, he was all, ‘That might be reinforcing gender stereotypes―’”
“Oh, god,” Sarah interrupts.
All three of my cousins giggle with derision.
“I know, right?” Katheryn scoffs. “So I tell him, ‘Do you want me to get an abortion? Because if I
don’t get a gender reveal cake, and the gender reveal cake that I want, I’m going to the abortionist this
afternoon, and I’m sending you the bill!”
 I shake my head and cringe at her bad humor.
As my cousins laugh, two waiters show up out of nowhere, carrying a bunch of Mylar balloons
shaped like…smiling and frowning babies.
They’re still just planning, but the Alice’s Tea Cup Chapter Two staff knows my cousins so well
that they’re getting their own little party today.
“Wait, this isn’t part of your job.” Sarah grins at the waiters.
“Only for today,” the tall, handsome waiter behind me says with a grin while tying balloons to my
chair.
“Be careful,” Jenna tells the waiter. “Rose doesn’t have one in the oven—she might float away.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he says before walking away.
Huh. I don’t really know how to take that.
“Don’t worry about him,” Jenna assures me, patting my arm. “He makes a decent chai latte, but he
doesn’t have much else going on.”
“Oh no, he doesn’t,” Sarah butts in. “Or at least not upstairs…downstairs, probably.”
“Hmmm. I don’t know about that.” Katheryn grins before taking a sip of her iced coffee.
“Watch it, Kath,” Jenna murmurs.
Katheryn nods with the straw still in her mouth, not letting up until well after she loudly slurps up
the last few drops.
“Uh-huh.” With a self-satisfied smile, Katheryn leans happily back into her seat and pats her belly.
“What, you think little Hunter enjoys that?” Jenna asks accusingly.
“First of all,” Katheryn snipes back, “Hunter might be Chantelle. We’ll all have to see the cake
before we know that.”
“Well, excuuuse me then.” Jenna rolls her eyes.
Unfortunately, while she looks ready to move past it, there’s no stopping Katheryn when she gets
started. “Hold on, Steve Martin, I’m not finished...”
“Uhm, what kind of reference is that?” Sarah interjects, raising her eyebrows. Of course she
doesn’t let Kath hog all the attention for long. “How old are you? Should you even be having a baby?”
“Hey, it was Jenna’s reference,” complains Katheryn.
“No, it wasn’t,” Jenna says quietly, giving me a quick, sly Don’t you just love our cousins? smile.
“I’m two years younger than you!” Kath is pointing, and her voice is taking over the whole tea
shop. “And besides, I’m allowed up to two hundred milligrams of caffeine a day, and you bet your ass I’m
gonna enjoy it.”
“Hope you and Joseph are setting up a Starbucks Fund for little Hunter-or-Chantelle. Kid’s gonna
come out addicted!” Satisfied with her sass, Sarah lifts a humongous buttercream-frosted cupcake to her
mouth and destroys half of it with a single chomp.
The little exchange all but forgotten at the sight of the cupcake, Katheryn asks, “Hey, are you making
Marcos go to that cupcake ATM on the East Side?”
“Oh, hell yeah.” Sarah’s talking with a mouth full of cupcake, looking at the remainder of her treat
with insatiable greed. “They’ve got fuckin’ whoopie pies there, too, now.”
“No shit,” Jenna remarks, eyes bulging.
“Yeah!” Sarah downs a gulp of chai latte, readying for her next bite. “I kicked Marcos’ ass out of
bed at two a.m. last night to go get me one.”
“Just one?” Kath questions with a knowing smile. I notice she has a buttered scone on her plate.
“Well…he always gets extra.” Sarah’s ecstatically conquering the last of her cupcake without a
care in the goddamn world.
“Oof.” Katheryn drops her scone and lifts herself halfway out of her seat. “My damn phone’s
vibrating. I’m not used to keeping it in my pocket.” She reaches into her floral print stretch pants.
Wait, what?
Really, that’s what she’s wearing?
What the hell? This is a woman known to spend hours agonizing over which necklace to wear to a
casual brunch, and here she is, out in public, and she just looks so...
Comfortable. And carefree. Like her pregnancy actually unburdened her of a lot of needless bullshit
and stress while she focuses on what’s really important.
“Ugh, it’s just Joseph again, asking if I want or need anything.” Kath rolls her eyes.
“Want or need?” I ask.
“Yeah, he always specifies both, the old sap. Oh, look, he volunteered to hit up the cupcake ATM,
too.”
“You’re making him go, right?” Sarah demands.
“I don’t know, I can’t go too crazy with the refined sugar. Maybe just some pickles, and bacon…
and salt and vinegar kettle chips...”
“And lemons!” Sarah screams, prompting me to laugh loudly.
It takes a couple seconds for me to notice my cousins are not laughing with me, and they’re looking
at me like I’ve gone batty.
“Lemons?” I ask incredulously to no one in particular. “Since when are you into lemons?”
“Ooh, good call, Sar.” Katheryn’s now typing the shopping list into her phone, ignoring me. “And
maybe some dark chocolate with chili powder—not too much sugar in that…and…sent.”
Kath sits back down gracefully, knowing her husband is already on his way to fulfill her list of
demands.
“Excuse me, ladies.” The tall waiter materializes from behind me, carrying a large plate. “These
are compliments of the management, and I’d like to personally congratulate all of you on your three new
bundles of joy.”
All of you.
 What am I, invisible?
The tall waiter reaches over me to plunk a plate of chocolate-chocolate chip cookies on the table.
Okay, he’s forgiven.
“Why, thank you,” Jenna says gracefully.
“I’m sure you’ll all make wonderful mothers.” With that, the tall waiter recedes into the
background. Katheryn and Sarah can barely hold in their laughter until he’s out of earshot.
“He’s so serious,” squawks Sarah.
“He’s always like that,” Katheryn discloses in a hushed, gossipy tone.
“I thought it was sweet.” My interruption causes my cousins to look at me.
“You just get used to hearing it after a while, Rose,” Jenna offers, shrugging.
Huh. Maybe that’s true. Maybe it gets tiring to hear people congratulate you and compliment you for
months on end. I wouldn’t know.
One thing’s for sure, though: I would never get tired of walking around in stretch pants all damn
day.
I mean, shit, nobody judges my cousins for it. They’re all wearing fucking stretch pants.
God, that sounds nice.
I can’t be too jealous, though. In any case, the tall waiter’s right―they’ll make wonderful mothers.
In Jenna’s case, she’s already a wonderful mother to her son Jayden.
Would I make a wonderful mother? I wonder.
What’s stopping me again?
Oh, right. That whole significant other thing.
“I want a baby.”
My eyes go wide with surprise when I hear the words, even though it’s me saying them. It’s a
thought that just came out, all on its own.
I’m not used to my three cousins, all of them my BFFs, silent and staring at me.
The stunned silence stretches out for what feels like forever, but I don’t retract my statement.
As my cousins stare at me, looks of delight dawning on each of their faces―I realize how much I
really do want a baby.
The sound that comes next is like a chirpy, manic Greek chorus, with Jenna, Katheryn, and Sarah all
shouting in unison.
“OH MY GOD!”
That exultant screech is followed my cousins excitedly trying to talk over each other. After a few
seconds, they calm down just enough to yell fragments of advice at me semi-coherently.
Figuring that I might actually learn something from them, who all have at least some experience
with pregnancy, I hurriedly dig out a pen and a small notepad I always carry with me.
“Hold on, let me try to get this all down.” This silences the three for a second, and I find a fresh
page and ready my pen at the top line. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“We can totally find you someone,” Jenna bellows.
“Uh, not really something I can write down, but, thanks?”
“The guy that cleans our pool—Jack.” I see a familiar, dreamy look in Katheryn’s eyes. “I could
hook you up with him. He’s hot!”
“Ten inches,” Sarah says pointedly.
“What?” Okay, this is getting crazy. Are they actually giving me pointers on that?
“Whoever it is, make sure he’s well-hung.” Sarah points at my notepad. “Write this down: he must
have a ten-inch dick, at least.”
Oh, well. I do as she says, scribbling frantically, unwilling to incite the wrath of a pregnant woman.
“And he must be six feet―no, cross that out―over six feet tall,” Katheryn adds.
“If you’re going to have a baby, you’re going to need money―lots of it,” Katheryn pipes up while
I’m still scrawling down the height requirements. “Whoever it is, make sure he’s loaded with tons―and I
mean tons of cash. Don’t settle for anything less.”
“And he better be sexy as hell, don’t forget that,” Katheryn adds excitedly.
“Oh, and with a really nice apartment,” states Jenna.
I compile the list as my cousins dictate requirements, drawing empty checkboxes next to each item.
Well…this is totally unconventional advice about having a baby. I mean I wasn’t exactly thinking
along the lines of how…tall my sperm donor should be, but now that I’m getting their advice…it doesn’t
sound half bad.
Having a baby with someone who can tick off each of these checkboxes is sounding like a very nice
idea indeed.
I don’t know who that could be, or if he even exists, but as the list grows, I’m getting more and
more eager to find out.
 Daniel


I can’t fucking tear my eyes away as the sexy girl over the next table bids farewell to her friends.
They’re like clucking hens or some shit―loud, friendly, and full of excited chatter.
I smile to myself as the place quiets down somewhat, following the departure of two of them. The
noise fades significantly after that whirlwind of fun I’ve been listening in on for the last half hour.
A sudden urge hits me to use any excuse I can find to flirt with the girl. She’s too goddamn cute, and
I need to meet her. I overheard her friends say that her name is Rose, which is quite the fitting name, if you
ask me.
One of her cousins is still there, helping her clean up and talking animatedly with an almost electric
buzz.
I study Rose as she moves around the table, skirting to the other side to pick up the bill.
There’s my chance.
I fucking take it, ready to swoop in and make contact with her for the first time. Make a fucking
impression. Engage her in a charming way that’s totally my style, diving right fucking in.
Letting a charismatic, sexy smile settle on my face, I flash her my perfect pearly whites.
“Excuse me, miss?” I stare right at her, unleashing the full force of my trademark charm.
She turns to face me, blushes, and then glances at her last remaining friend. The friend shakes her
head and shrugs, as if to let her know that she has no fucking clue why I’m talking to her.
Then she turns back to face me. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, in fact, you can. Do you mind if I steal the sugar off your table for a second? I promise I’ll
give it right back.”
“Oh, yeah, sure. That’s fine with me.” She smiles and waves a hand dismissively, as if to let me
know it’s no trouble. “We’re done with it anyway. Most of our party has left, and we’re just finishing up.”
“Lucky me,” I say with a wink.
Her boisterous friend laughs as she watches the interaction. Her cackles practically fucking bellow
through the small tea shop.
“Oooooh, honey,” she says and dances around in a circle, her rounded pregnant belly leading the
way. “We’ll give you all the sugar you want.”
Rose blushes and covers her face with her hands like she’s trying to physically shield herself from
the embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” she mouths to me in a whisper and shakes her head, walking away to pay the tab at the
bar.
I just grin wider and chuckle, taking it all in stride. If I’m gonna be bold and daring enough to put
myself out there and break the ice, surely I’ve got the balls to allow myself to become the brunt of some
playful flirting.
Especially when there’s a hot girl involved.
I do have to confess that I have a bit of an ulterior motive for distracting the hot girl, though: I want
to swipe that little list she made, the one about what she looks for in a guy and how she wants to find one
to father a baby for her.
Because let’s be real―it’s a pretty fucking crazy idea, right?
But what can I say? She’s piqued my curiosity. I need to see that list.
Grabbing the list is a crazy idea, too, I know, and I’ll probably get caught, but the risk is part of the
fun, after all.
As soon as she has her back turned to me, I grab the sugar and pick up the list in one smooth move,
subtly placing it in my pocket while the remaining girl goes to retrieve her purse off the backs of the seats.
I watch as she struts over to Rose and says goodbye. They’re too far away from me now, over by
the bar, so I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I stand back and watch as they say goodbye and hug.
The girl waves to Rose and then winks as she passes me again. I lift my hand in a small wave,
watching her walk out onto the bustling, always busy New York City streets to hail a taxi.
I spin back around, directing my attention to Rose as she talks with the bartender as she pays the
bill.
I have to respect a woman who’s willing to go so far to foot an entire bill like that for her friends. I
like how she kept her cool under pressure from them, too.
I quickly give the list an once-over, laughing at the boxes I can check off so fucking easily, and then
I shove it back in my pocket.
A few seconds later, Rose appears again, but she’s seemingly forgotten all about the sexy stranger:
the dream hunk sitting right across from her at the next table. Huh.
She begins shuffling things around on the table, packing up and tidying some of the dishes to stack
neatly on top of each other.
I wonder if she’s been in the restaurant business before because of the way she’s deliberately trying
to make the serving staff’s lives a little bit easier. Or maybe she’s just nice?
She fumbles around, and almost instantly, she looks panicked. Her cheeks flush red as she picks up
items randomly and places them back on the table.
“Looking for this?” I pitch my voice low, sauntering closer to her. I pull out her beloved little list
and wave it in front of her.
Her face flashes with horror, and she turns as white as a sheet.
“Give that back,” she orders. “Now.”
I merely grin and size her up. I want to keep playing the game. Playing with Rose.
She reaches over to grab it from my hands, but I’m too quick for her. I swat her away playfully and
keep the list out of her reach.
 With amusement, I run through the list again in my head while laughing…and then I debate whether I
should read through the rather unusual criteria out loud or not.
I mull it over for a second or two, then decide for my new acquaintance’s benefit that I’ll just keep
the requirements listed here to myself. It is, after all, a fine dining establishment.
I glance down at the paper again and grin devilishly as an idea pops into my head. I give her a
saucy wink as she continues to stare at me in horror, as if she wishes there were some way for her to melt
to the floor.
I pull a fountain pen out of the breast pocket of my jacket and click it on, my eyes never leaving
hers.
“Um…what are you doing?” Rose fake-laughs with obvious anxiety and apprehension.
I glance at the list then back up at her. “I’m helping you out, of course.”
What else would a gentleman do?
I look at the first item on the list.
Must have thick cock…like, ten inches at least.
I smile oh-so-slowly at Rose, knowing I look as fucking charming as ever, before writing down a
check mark with a dramatic flourish.
Rose places her head in her hands, covering her eyes, and groans. “Oh god, this isn’t happening to
me.”
I peer down at the next item up for debate.
Must have fat stacks of cash.
Done and done…I check that one off the list and wink at her.
I deliberately power through the rest of them, making sure to be as ridiculously over-the-top sexy as
possible—whether to make her laugh or to make her swoon, I don’t know—although I think for now, she’s
simply humiliated. Perhaps when she has time to reflect on the situation alone at home later, she’ll come
around.
Must be over six feet tall…check.
Must have a really nice apartment…check.
Must be sexy as hell…well, I don’t mean to brag but…check.
Each time I check an item off her list, I make sure to give her an enthusiastic grin, as if there’s
nothing more important to me in the entire world right now than fulfilling the items on her wish list.
“Are you finished yet?”
She puts on a brave front, but her cheeks give her away with a flush of embarrassment. I’m totally
fucking getting to her.
“Not quite,” I tell her as another fresh idea comes to me. “Very close, though,” I say teasingly.
“Well, good, because now I need to begin planning my funeral for next week,” Rose mutters.
Ah, so she has a sense of humor about this after all. I like it. A whole fucking lot.
 “Oh, come on,” I retort. “I think your list is very reasonable. Practical, even. This day and age, you
need to make sure you get what you want before you seal a deal.”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Whatever. It’s not like I’m buying a couch.” She attempts
to play it nonchalantly, but she’s too fucking adorable to pull it off.
Ignoring her, I jot down my name and phone number in my neatest handwriting at the end of the list.
Standing up, I finally relent, much to her relief, and hand her back the beloved piece of paper. “Call
me if you ever want to talk more or make any negotiations.”
She stares up at me blankly. “Huh?”
I point to my name and number and she blushes again.
“Oh…okay…” She trails off and continues to stare at the paper.
I throw some cash on the table to pay my bill and walk out, back to the loud streets outside. I can’t
help but smile as I climb into the waiting town car.
At the very least, I’ve extended a mode of direct communication―a lifeline that won’t exactly
guarantee that I’ll ever see her again, but that gives me hopes she’ll take up my offer and give me a call.
At the most…well.
The truth is, it’s not like I really need a heir―but at the same time, it’s not a bad idea to keep my
options open, either.
Much as I hate to admit that my mother is right, I’d rather have a child to raise as my own heir to the
company than pass the torch begrudgingly to one of my wild siblings—no way will Prada or Fendi or
Chanel take care of the family fortune like they should.
Jesus, just the thought of their names and passing the torch in the same sentence makes me want to
tell my driver to turn the car around, just so I can jump that girl right there in the shop and bang her brains
out on the table—all for an heir, of course.
So yeah, okay, I gave her my number―so what?
Just like Rose, I’d rather keep my options wide open, too.
 Rose


So yeah, I’m still trying to process exactly what happened at the tea shop. I didn’t dream that shit
up, did I?
Throwing my Fendi clutch down on my kitchen counter, I smile like a kid in a candy store because
for once in my life, things look like they could be going my way.
No, wait.
Ugh.
Okay, Rose, it’s time to climb back down from the clouds to your regular, boring, single life, I
scold myself.
I can’t seriously be taking that guy for real, right? That list was made in fun, but oh my god, when he
started making those checks next to every item…I mean ten inches? Really?
My mouth is suddenly dry, and my body feels on fire in a way I’m totally unfamiliar with.
Walking over to the window, I pull open the shades. The afternoon sun is warm and inviting. I live
in a trendy, up-and-coming district by Battery Park, and if I can attest to anything magical in my life, it’s
this view of the Hudson and East Rivers right from my twenty-second-floor apartment.
Daniel…
My laugh stuns even me, but I can’t help myself. Who the hell does that guy think he is?
Sure, he’s sexy in an obvious kind of way. Sure, he seems charming enough. But looks can be
deceiving.
I mean, he could be part of some type of sex trafficking ring or something, sent on a very important
and secret mission to abduct me in plain sight, while I remain in my giddy, foolishly delusional, and
clouded mind. I’ve seen Dateline reports on that shit!
Or worse, what if he’s a serial killer? Or a member of the mafia?
I had a friend once who had a friend of a friend whose brother’s uncle’s nephew was in the mafia.
I’m totally not making that up, either.
Am I that naïve? I should be scoffing at the idea of even thinking I could have a relationship with a
stranger. Especially thinking of letting him knock me up.
I must be crazy.
Of course he’s in the mafia. I’m staring out at the East River right now, and the universe couldn’t hit
me in the face with a brick to be more obvious about that fact.
Well, okay, there I go again, rationalizing things until they become outlandish and blown out of
proportion.
He really fucking hot, though…and I’m lonely…and I want a baby now more than I ever realized.
Seeing my cousins today really drove that home. It’s like I’m clearly seeing for the first time what’s been
missing in my life.
I take a deep breath and skirt away from the window, running a hand through my hair. I plop down
on the couch and grab the remote, but thinking better of it, I reach for my laptop instead.
Thanks to the wonderful array of information up for display on the fine tool we call the internet,
there are a million ways I can research this guy and find out who he truly is. Then I’ll know just how
crazy I am for even entertaining this idea.
I’m sure I’ll find a huge picture of him on Google or something wearing a Bruce Wayne tuxedo
while he smiles deliciously with six-foot-tall gorgeous models and blonde celebrities crooked under each
arm.
I gulp when I my worst fears come true, and he is all over fucking social media. Daniel practically
owns the damn thing. His name is sprawled out everywhere for the world―and, unfortunately, me―to
see.
I laugh as I scroll through blogs, forums, and even Twitter, quickly becoming addicted to learning
more about him.
Seriously though…this is the guy who wants to knock me up? This can’t be real. Is there a team
with cameras going to pop out of my closet and say ‘Gotcha!’ any minute now?
Yeah, this is the kind of shit you only see on hidden camera shows.
Daniel appears to have quite a selection of notable yet creepy admirers. Some hoe-bag on a forum
actually says that his hair is insured for four million dollars.
What the fuck?
I scroll through pages and pages of evidence of past relationships that he’s had and can’t believe
this is splashed out there for public viewing pleasure.
Apparently, he has an ex-girlfriend named Maggie, and, well, let me tell you, she’s wildly
unpopular on most of these websites.
Of course, hate is a strong word, so let’s go with loathe instead.
To me, though, it’s all comically suitable reading material, and I’m entertained, to say the very
least. Hey, it’s gotten me to stop wallowing in my own lonely, barren-uterus abyss of self-pity, hasn’t it?
I shut my laptop and take a deep breath. What the hell am I getting myself into? Am I actually
considering this?
He seemed so mellow, so…I don’t know…down-to-earth in the tea shop, like he would never be
the player type.
Ha! That sentence alone should never be uttered. Of course, all men are players to a certain extent.
They want the pussy when they want it, and nothing is going to stand in their way.
What makes this guy any different?
He seemed so sweet and charming, though…in a crazy sexy kind of way that has me suddenly
fanning myself.
 Here I go again, playing devil’s advocate with my own mind. I’m starting to wonder if I should
look into therapy or something.
I walk back over to my Fendi bag and pull out the phone number that’s scribbled on my outrageous
list of baby daddy criteria.
I grin from ear to ear, giddy at the thought of this gorgeous, mysterious stranger.
I pick up my cell phone and punch his number in, then quickly delete it and forcefully place the
phone back down on the counter.
Then I do what any other reasonable woman facing a dilemma would do. I toss my phone on top of
my armoire―out of reach so that I can’t easily access it.
You know, just in case I decide to do something crazy like actually call the guy.
I’m frustrated with myself as I groan and pull over a chair to climb up and retrieve my phone off the
top of the armoire.
God, I’m ridiculous. I’m acting totally insane right now.
It’s just a phone call. I know how to talk to people, right?
Well, I guess only time will tell―if he actually answers the phone.
Telling myself not to do it while simultaneously tapping the number out again on my phone, I bite
my lip.
I hope he doesn’t answer.
I mean, I hope he does.
I don’t know what I want, to be honest. Maybe this could be a fantastic little experiment I can test
out on myself to see how far I’ll go. I mean, what if it is a good idea?
It’s not like I have to marry the guy tomorrow, or at all, but it would be nice to have some male
companionship for once in my life. And if we can have a little baby-making fun in the process? Even
better.
All my best friends and family members are getting married and popping out kids faster than I can
say the words ‘baby bump’.
I owe it to myself to have some fun and live a little, right? I can always be adamant that I’m not
looking for him to bury his little swimmers into my uterus just yet.
I mean, I think we both deserve the opportunity to get to know each other slightly better first. Then
we go from there. If anything, we can have a good time for a while.
I bite the bullet and hit the call button before I can give myself the chance to think anymore and hang
up.
He answers on the second ring.
“Hello?”
Shit! I have to say something or else this will end with me having a meltdown where I sob in the tub
over a glass—no, a bottle—of red wine.
 I clear my throat. Okay, Rose, form words and spit them out. Now!
Holy shit, this is the longest any person has not talked, like, ever.
“Um, hi, Daniel,” I finally blurt out, chuckling nervously and praying that he hasn’t already hung up
on me, thinking I’m a prank caller or something. “It’s Rose, you know, from the tea shop?”
“Hi, Rose from the tea shop,” he greets me back, his voice deliciously deep and teasing. I can feel
him smiling.
Okay, so we’re off to a good start here. I don’t need to go hang myself from my shower rod just yet.
“I’m just calling to say…hi.”
What the hell am I talking about? God, I’m fucking cringing on the inside. Thank God this
conversation isn’t taking place face to face.
“Hi back.” He chuckles into the phone, sending a delicious shiver through my already tightly wound
body. He sounds just like a sexy, rich billionaire should.
“I um, was thinking about…you know…taking you up on your offer.” I wince and bite my nail.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and my heart collapses.
“That’s wonderful to hear,” Daniel finally says on the other end, and I can breathe once again.
“Really?” I laugh with relief.
“Yes, I’d love to see you again. Any excuse I can get.”
“You don’t even know me.” I giggle, toying with him as we banter back and forth.
“There’s always time for that,” he says casually.
“Yeah…I suppose you’re right,” I say and pace the floor of my apartment because I’m fucking stir-
crazy now, and the adrenaline pumping through my veins is giving me enough of a turbo charge to turn into
Wonder Woman at this point.
I’m thankful he still sounds approachable and enthusiastic.
“Do you think that we could, like, you know, get to know each other first before we decide on
anything too, um, serious?” Like knocking me up?
I pray with every fiber of my being that he’ll agree to this suggestion.
“Sure,” he responds. “Absolutely. That sounds fair and reasonable to me.”
“Great,” I say and exhale a year’s worth of pent up sexual frustration and tension.
“So, when is the beautiful Rose Flower free?” Daniel asks.
Rose Flower? Well, that’s a new one…
I pretend to be glancing at an invisible, nonexistent calendar. The sooner the better, honestly, but I
can’t exactly admit that to him.
“Let’s see here…” I trail off. “How about this weekend? Will that work for you?”
“It sure will,” he replies with another of those sexy as fuck chuckles. “What’s your address? I can
have a car pick you up.”
“Really?” I don’t know why I should sound so surprised. He’s a ridiculously rich guy, after all.
 I give him my address, and we say goodbye, the usual polite endings to a phone call where you tell
someone you can’t wait to see them and blah, blah, blah.
When I hang up, my heart is racing with excitement. I can’t believe I just did that. I’m never this
bold.
I’m seriously going on a date with a guy who could be a potential sperm donor? This is straight out
of some movie where the heroine has some harebrained idea that ends in ridiculous shenanigans.
I mean, let’s be real, I’m probably not going to let some random stranger knock me up. But maybe
I’ll have fun with Daniel. Maybe I’ll end up having at least some of my life goals fulfilled.
We’ll see.
 Daniel


This has to be my eight-trillionth time to check my gold wrist-watch―a Rolex, of course, and a
vintage one at that―and yes, I bought the present for myself after scoring a major―and I’m talking
major―business deal with a marketing firm for my hotels.
I must be crazy for agreeing to this meeting―uh, I mean dinner―with the beautiful and charming
Rose Makin. I was actually a bit surprised she called me. I mean, yeah, I’d hoped she would, but even I
have to admit the circumstances were pretty outrageous.
Oh, what the hell. She’s cute, and I’m horny.
I’m not one to shy away from my primal instincts, and she’s a tasty dish I can’t wait to taste later
on, if I’m successful in seducing her.
I’m not a jerk or a womanizer. Let me set the record straight. I just fucking love the female body: the
curves, the softness, the fleshy pink places between a ripe woman’s legs…
Fuck.
Speaking of tantalizing curves, my date for the evening is walking, or should I say strutting, into the
restaurant. She’s moving effortlessly, with deliciously swinging hips and voluptuous cleavage that leaves
little to my wild and vivid imagination.
Fuck, I have to shift uncomfortably in my seat and picture my grandmother just so I can hide the
massive throbbing hard-on that’s already bulging in my pants. The last thing I want to do is freak her out
and send her running for the bustling Manhattan streets once she meets the creep with a boner poking out
in plain sight.
Before she arrives at the table, let me just set the scene here.
We agreed to meet up at one of the exclusive restaurants in one of my finest, and most luxurious
hotels in all of the tri-state area, possibly in the world.
I’ve arranged a private dinner. I’m talking white tablecloths with white candles flickering in the
center, rose petals scattered romantically (and blissfully fragrantly, I might add) all over the table.
I have an order for the most expensive bottle of champagne to be sent to the table as soon Rose
walks over here. I stand to greet her, pasting on one of my sexiest smiles, the one that does it every time.
She finally reaches me, and I try to tame my wildly beating heart.
What the fuck is that about? I always, I mean I always keep my cool, and I always have the upper
hand with women. But there’s something about Rose…
I swallow hard and take a deep breath. Fuck, she looks amazing―and I plan to tell her so, over and
over again, until she’s putty in my hands. I mean, I’m still not totally sure about this whole baby thing, but
at the very least, I’m going to enjoy this date with her.
She’s wearing a peach-colored tube dress that accentuates her fucking gorgeous cinnamon-colored
eyes.
Her hair is long, wavy, and sandy blonde, flowing halfway down her back.
As I lean in to give her a hug, I notice her hair smells like coconuts―but not before I intentionally
press my chest against her overflowingly ample tits first.
Yeah, yeah, I know. But I can’t fucking help it.
“Thank you for joining me tonight,” I grin as I pull her chair out for her with a flourish.
“Wow, aren’t you the proper gentleman?” She laughs lightly, and I hope that gesture’s a score of
brownie points in my favor.
Her voice is like honey dripping all over me on a tropical oasis in the middle of the Caribbean.
I’m not in love, but I’m sure as fuck climbing the Mount Everest of lust.
I grin at her as I hold my tie to my chest while taking a seat across from her.
She takes her napkin from the table and places it delicately in her lap, raising her eyebrows, her
eyes shining with a hint of naughtiness.
Perfect.
“Rose, I think you’re in for a treat you’d never expect to get from here. This is one of my favorite
restaurants.”
“Oh?” She raises her eyebrow in mischief. “Well, please, sir, enlighten me. I just love juicy
dishes.”
The irony of this situation is that I’m captivated by the two juicy dishes on her chest that are
practically fucking spilling out of her dress.
The secret I want to disclose to her is the fact that I want to rest my head on her pillow-like tits, but
instead, I flash my perfect white teeth and lay on the charm nice and thick.
I lean over the table.
“Well, first of all…might I tell you how fucking stunning you look tonight.”
Then I whistle, and slap the table for effect, making her giggle.
“I’m talking smoking hot.”
“Thank you,” she says as the waiter pours our drinks. “You sure know how to make a girl blush.”
She’s a total mystery. An intriguing mixture of sweet shyness and sassy boldness. My goal of the
night is, obviously, to lower her inhibitions as quickly as possible. Having said that, I still want her to
trust me, and I know we have to work up to that by building a solid foundation.
“I also have a surprise for you,” I toss her a friendly wink.
Her face lights up. “I always love a good surprise.”
“Well…” I begin as she waits patiently for the kicker. “So, as you know, I heard you and your
girlfriends talking about the shower in the tea room, and―”
“You mean you were eavesdropping on our conversation,” she teases, and bites her lip playfully.
Fuck, that’s sexy.
 “Hey now.” I feign offense. “You ladies were a bunch of clucking hens. The whole restaurant could
hear you.”
“By the way, clucking hens is our official and formal name,” she jokes in return.
I laugh. Wow, I’m having fun with this one. She’s keeping me way more interested already than the
women I normally date.
I might be in deep shit…
But as far as I’m concerned, any chance to get pussy is a win in my book.
Hang on there, calm down. Don’t worry, I’m not a fucking maniac. I know how to be respectful of
women, which leads me to my next point.
“Anyway,” I take a sip of my champagne, and aim to entice her. “Do you remember when your
friends were talking about how they were having intense cravings?”
Rose rolls her eyes with a grin. “How could I forget?”
“Well…” I pause for effect. “I took the liberty of ordering lavish versions of those foods, and they
should be arriving at the table any moment now.”
Her face changes from shock, to disbelief, to wonderment, and then finally the spinning wheel lands
on immense pleasure.
“Are you kidding me? Like what sort of lavish treats?”
I give her a smug smile, fucking proud of myself for coming up with this idea. If I’m going to
potentially woo her as the woman who’s going to give me an heir, I’m going to show her exactly what I
have to offer.
“For starters,” I continue, “a gold leaf milkshake is on your menu.”
Rose squeals like a tween girl. “I’m so excited.”
“Then, I believe fried pickles will be coming your way, too, with a fantastic spicy Dijon glaze to
dip them in.”
“Oh, wow.” Rose raises her eyebrows. “Sounds fancy.”
“Look around you,” I tease and gesture to the fine dining establishment.
“Touché,” she says with a laugh.
A few minutes later, our food arrives, and I watch as Rose’s eyes become as big as the platters
adorning the table.
“This is, um…quite possibly the greatest lengths I’ve ever seen a guy go to in order to impress a
woman,” she says and takes a nibble from the bowl of exotic French fries.
“I take a great deal of satisfaction in making sure any date of mine feels well cared for.”
“I can see that,” she laughs. “Regular pregnancy cravings can eat their hearts out.”
She scoops up a pickle and gobbles it up.
I have a twinkle in my eye as I watch her sample food from the platters. I admire a woman who
isn’t afraid to eat on her first date.
 And fuck. She sure is cute as hell.
“You know,” she says with a smirk, “I had to check you out to make sure you aren’t a serial killer.”
I explode into laughter. Fuck, this girl is too much.
“I understand. I had to make sure you aren’t going to cut off my balls and wear my scrotum over
your face like a mask, either.”
Rose shivers in response, and to my genuine relief, looks completely repulsed.
“Um, that’s fucking disgusting,” she tells me. “I want to enjoy this delicious food you were so kind
to order me.”
I drink her in, every ounce of her astounding beauty. I’m already intoxicated, but not by the
champagne. This girl sitting across from me is making my head spin in the best ways possible.
“Well, I wouldn’t put it past one of your crazy ex-girlfriends.” She smirks.
“Let’s call them extremely creative fans,” I laugh in response.
“There are quite a few.”
She sips on her champagne and gives me a sultry glance over the rim of her glass that fucking floors
me. I’m melting under the spell of her cinnamon eyes.
Rose dabs her lips with a napkin and clears her throat, a coating of seriousness waxing over her
face.
“I have to admit,” she begins, “I know this is kind of crazy. But in my situation, time is of the
essence. I don’t want to waste either of our time here.”
I swallow a bite of food and nod, glad that she’s the first one bringing the pressing matter to a head.
“However,” she gestures animatedly, waving around her slender fingers adorned with freshly
manicured French tips. “This is all happening so fast. You still agree that we should get to know each
other a little better first before making any decisions…right?”
She gives me a sheepish glance as if she hates to draw attention to the elephant in the room, but I
know the topic must be brushed.
“Yes, of course.” I flash her an honest smile. “We need to make sure we’re a compatible match.”
Although I enjoy eyeing her sexy body and feel attracted to her physically, I still need to scratch off
the task of making sure she doesn’t proudly wear the title of ‘insane bitch.’
“We don’t know each other yet.” I smile and add to reassure her further. “In time, we will.”
“Thank you.”
Her shoulders visibly relax with reprieve as she nods and smiles graciously. “I have to ask you,
though, why are you even considering this?”
I shift in my seat, wondering how much to tell her. I decide I might as well go all in.
“Well, honestly, I need an heir for my companies. And I’ve had a hard time in that department.”
Her eyebrows practically reach her hairline. “Um, according to the internet, there are plenty of
people out there more than happy to help you out.”
 I grimace. “Yes, and as you so nicely pointed out, none of the women I’ve dated have had much
going for them in the sanity department.”
“So, why me? You don’t even know me. I could be just as crazy.”
She’s a breath of fresh air so far, being so upfront about everything.
“Let’s just say you need something, I need something. It’s business. And I think you might just make
a great business partner.”
Yeah, it’s a cold way to put a damper on our flirtation, but I need more time to make sure that she’s
the real deal, not another one of the women out to get a piece of me. Even though if this pans out, she’s
going to get a very real piece of me.
“It’s better to play our cards right and exercise patience,” I continue. “We don’t want to get down
the road with a baby—if it gets to that—and realize we’re polar opposites.”
“That’s very true,” she nods in agreement, adding, “I can absolutely live with that and agree one-
hundred percent.”
“I have an excellent starting point,” I tell her. “Would you like to go out on an official date with me
sometime next week?”
She chuckles. “Wow. If this isn’t a true first date, and you consider this just a ‘meeting’ of sorts,
then I cannot wait to see what tricks you have up your sleeve next week.”
I admire her honesty.
“So, is that a yes?” I grin, not quite sure why I’m holding my breath―but I am just the same.
“Yes.” She nods enthusiastically. “It’s a yes.”
“Great.”
I clap my hands together because I’m really fucking pleased at how the evening is going so far. “I
have some things I need to wrap up in the office next week, and I’ll have to check my calendar before I
can pin down a date. Once I have one, I’ll give you a call. Does that sound fair?”
“Very reasonable. I’ll check my schedule as well in the meantime, and we can iron out the details
later.”
We order dessert, but I have my own plans for a treat, and it involves every drop of Rose. I ask her
what she has planned for the rest of the evening as we walk out to the car.
“I’d like to offer to take you home,” I say.
“That’s sweet of you, but I can take a cab.”
Her eyes dart around the busy Manhattan intersection as she folds her arms across her chest.
I know that look. She’s feeling awkward and uncomfortable, not sure how to act now that we are
supposed to be parting ways. I have a better idea.
“It’s really no trouble at all,” I say, laying it on thick with yet another wink and grin. “You are the
only date I booked for tonight.” I attempt to lighten the mood with a joke.
It works, and she agrees, nodding her head and smiling.
 “Okay, fine. You can take me home. Let’s just hope you don’t turn out to be a serial killer after all.”
We climb into my car and I watch as her dress rides up her thighs, exposing some tantalizing and
fucking delicious-looking flesh.
Fuck, I want a taste of that.
I grin at her. “Of course, it’s what a gentleman would do.”
Gentleman, indeed. I climb in behind her, forcing myself to be that gentleman.
At least for tonight.
 Rose


“This one is a little slutty. Definitely go with it.”
My cousin Jenna holds up a backless black dress with a plunging neckline. She’s always one to say
what she wants, and she has no filter, like ever, when it comes to her open and brutal honesty.
I just laugh and shake my head. “God, Jenna, he’s going to think I’m a hooker.”
Jenna playfully hits my arm. “Girl, stop it. Live a little. At least somebody should.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I plop down on the edge of the bed while Jenna continues to rifle
through my closet.
“Come on,” Jenna gives me a blunt stare. “Let’s face it, these stretch marks aren’t going to get me
anywhere.”
“You’re happily married,” I remind her. “With a beautiful son named Jayden who’s sleeping in the
next room.”
“Whatever.” Jenna rolls her eyes, and I just have to laugh. She’s crazy. I know she loves
motherhood; she’s just playing around.
Oh, yeah… she’s the only person I’ve told so far about Daniel and our little ‘arrangement’―if you
can even call it that―in it’s still budding stage.
Jenna and Jayden are spending the night at my place while her husband is out of the country at a
business conference.
Jenna is always going to have my back and be supportive, no matter what. She’s my safety net, and I
know she’ll clock a guy right between the eyes if he stands in the way of my happiness.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” She turns to give me a look as if to say she doesn’t mean any
harm by the statement, but she doesn’t want me to recklessly endanger myself, either.
“Why?” I laugh, teasing her. “Let me guess, you’ve heard better?”
She smirks. “Yeah…I have to admit, I have. You’re supposed to be the rational one.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I assure her as I graze my fingers over the soft throw pillow on the bed. “I
have everything under control.”
“You’re like the person in the horror films who leaves the room and says they’ll be right back….
only they never come back.”
Jenna slaps her knee and roars with laughter at her own little joke.
I roll my eyes. “I thought you said you were going to be supportive?”
“Sweetheart,” Jenna plants a soothing hand on my shoulder, “believe me. No one on this whole
green earth is more supportive of you than me.”
She places her other hand over her heart to honor her servitude to my cause.
“Thanks.” I chuckle and pick up the slutty black dress. “Maybe this little number isn’t so bad after
all.”
“I told you. You should always listen to me.” She gives me a naughty little wink.
“Do you want to see a picture of him?” I sit up straight and pull my iPhone from the back of my
jeans pocket.
“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Jenna laughs as if I’m stating the remarkably obvious.
I pull up his face on the screen, and Jenna immediately whistles.
“Holy shit, Rose.”
“I know, right?” I grin proudly.
“He’s saucy,” Jenna marvels.
“Delicious,” I add.
Jenna takes a step back and glances at me as if she’s sizing me up. “So…you haven’t actually had a
taste of him yet?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “We’re going to take it slow and get to know each other first. Then we’ll
see where things lead.”
I swallow hard just at the thought of where this could lead. I mean, yeah, my biological clock is
ticking, and this guy has everything I asked for…but right now, I’m thinking about the fun we could have
working to achieve our ‘business’ goal.
“You know I’ll be rooting for you,” Jenna reminds me.
“How could I forget my biggest cheerleader?” I say and look at Jenna, who has a twinkle in her
eye.
“You know what?” Jenna sits down beside me. “On second thought, just go for it. Seduce the guy.
He’s fucking gorgeous, a once in a lifetime fuck. Who cares where it goes? Get you some of that, girl.”
I belt out a huge laugh. “Jenna!”
I get embarrassed when she talks that way, although I have no idea why.
In the end, I opt for the sexy little black dress, much to Jenna’s delight. She waves me off, nearly
pushing me out the door to greet Daniel in his already waiting car.
As soon as I walk the few steps down the block, Daniel climbs out of the car with a wildly
handsome and eager grin on his face.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
He smiles and kisses my hand. Then, to my befuddlement, he glances up as if he’s distracted by
something.
I turn around to determine what the hell he’s staring at, and jump as I notice Jenna standing there.
Jesus, Jenna.
She clears her throat and waves, grinning mischievously.
“Hi,” she says, and bounces on her heels. “I just wanted to meet Rose’s new friend.”
I force a laugh, and give her a look.
 I’m not irritated, it’s just the way Jenna is. Like I said, she’s not afraid of anything, or anyone. But
still.
“Daniel, this is Jenna, my cousin.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jenna,” Daniel replies, extending a hand to her.
Meanwhile, Jenna is floating through the clouds or something because she looks like a giddy school
girl who’s finally getting to meet her celebrity crush.
“So, Daniel,” she flirts, “do you have like a brother or a cousin you could set me up with?” She
licks her lips, and twirls her brown hair around her index finger.
Daniel laughs politely, obviously taken off guard. That’s where I swoop in to save him.
“Jenna!” I exclaim in a reprimanding tone.
“What?” Jenna smirks.
“Um…hello?” I laugh. “You’re married, in case you’ve forgotten?”
“A girl can look, can’t she?” Jenna giggles friskily.
Rolling my eyes, I climb into the car after Daniel opens the passenger door for me.
“Whatever! Just go back into the house before you get yourself—or me—in trouble.”
I give her a sly grin, and she waves goodbye to us, bouncing happily back up the steps.
“That girl is too much,” I shake my head apologetically.
“I think it’s entertaining,” Daniel confesses, grinning.
“Really?” I look at him with surprise.
“Sure.” He shrugs as we ride off together. “I have a big family, too.”
“So, you know what the torture’s like.” I laugh.
Of course, I’m only kidding. I love my family, and couldn’t imagine life without all those crazy-ass
people.
Daniel drives us to an out-of-town resort. Frankly, I can’t wait to get out and explore because I’m
one to never pass up an opportunity for a decadent night out. I’m not a freeloader by any means, but I’m
totally looking forward to the evening.
Turning to grin at Daniel, I decide to have some fun with him.
“Do you always behave this gallantly when you entertain your female friends?” I implore.
“Female friends?” He chuckles and gives me a side-glance.
“Come on,” I demand. “Appease me a little. Make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world.”
“Okay, Rihanna,” he laughs, and I playfully slap his arm.
“Alright,” he says with a wink. “Let me just say it then. You’re crazy fucking gorgeous, and maybe,
just maybe, I went a little overboard for tonight’s occasion.”
“Hey, you don’t hear me complaining,” I giggle in response.
We approach a cabana that appears to be directly on the shore.
“Wow,” I marvel at the surroundings, taking it all in. “This is incredible.”
 Daniel looks pleased as he explains why this is his first choice for bringing me to dinner on date
night.
“I have a confession to make, too.” He winces and stops short.
“Oh god, what is it?”
“I googled you, too.”
“Well, of course you did,” I state. “Any normal person would. I mean, you realize what kind of
crazy situation we’re in.”
“Yeah. Anyway,” he says with a laugh, interlocking his elbow with mine. “I find you extremely
attractive, and I wanted to impress the hell out of you. Judging what I saw on social media, I can tell you
like the beach and the shore.”
“Ding, ding, ding…we have a winner!” I proclaim with a giggle, my finger pointing to the sky. “If
your aim is to impress me, you’re off to an exceptional start, mister.”
“Why, thank you.”
He blushes, coming off…humble? That’s a trait I’m not used to seeing on a man. I mean, I certainly
didn’t expect that from Daniel.
He’s totally cocky, the way he strides around acting like he owns everything…
Wait a minute…he does own everything! So yeah, the humility’s an interesting development. I
should be careful not to judge him before I actually get to know him.
“All kidding aside, I have to say I’m touched by your thoughtfulness,” I confess.
And I genuinely mean it.
We get to the cabana on the beach side, where we can glance out at spectacular, million-dollar
views of the Atlantic Ocean in all her pristine glory.
It’s a gorgeous night with a refreshing breeze that tickles the hair on my neck.
The cabana has white curtains on the side that billow and dance in the wind.
Okay, I admit it. This setting is crazy sexy―and romantic as hell.
“Not one detail has been forgotten here,” I remark and point around to everything I see.
“We’re also going to get to enjoy a magnificent sunset.”
“That makes the whole night right there,” I reply.
“What about me? Don’t I make your night?” He feigns offense.
I give him a naughty wink. “So far, so good. We’ll just have to wait and see how good you can
make it.”
We order lobster, oysters, and every other kind of seafood aphrodisiac you could ever imagine on
the planet.
I eat to my heart’s content, then lean back in the lounge seat, feeling positively stuffed. I take a sip
of my chardonnay and bask at the radiant splattering of purples, oranges, and pinks that paint the sky with
the surrounding sunset on the horizon.
 “It’s such a beautiful canvas…” I trail off dreamily.
“The sky?” Daniel asks with a smile.
“Yes,” I say, and point a finger at him. “You…you are so on my level, little boy.”
“Little boy? We’ll see about that.” A belly laugh escapes his lips. “You’re getting a little tipsy,
aren’t you?”
I shrug. “Unwinding after a long and stressful week never hurt anyone.”
What? Like I’m going to admit that I have three drinks on a regular night? Bitch, please!
“You better watch yourself, or somebody might want to take advantage of you.”
I lean over, purposefully allowing some bare thigh to show as my dress slides up.
“Let me guess—that somebody’s you?” I purse my lips. “Come and get it.”
“Well, if you’re offering…”
He laughs. I can tell he’s still trying to be a gentleman, but that he’s also sorely tempted.
And I’m feeling rowdy all of a sudden. I’ll just blame it on the wine. It’s the wine’s fault.
I’m almost embarrassed to even admit this…but it’s been a…well, a really fucking long time since
I’ve been intimate with anyone. I’m hot all the time, and just talking to him with this flirty, sexy banter is
making me tingle between my legs.
I giggle again and loosen up, throwing my inhibitions out to the sea in front of me. It’s been too long
since Naughty Rose came out to play. I mean, if we’re going to do this whole baby bargain thing, I
definitely need to know from the start if we’re sexually compatible.
Otherwise, this is all a fucking waste of time, right?
Right.
“I have something special in mind for dessert,” Daniel says in a whisper.
“Oh, yeah?” I raise an eyebrow as my pulse quickens, and my breathing becomes heavier. I know
good and well that he’s not talking about a tiramisu here.
My pulse pounds in my ears as he leans in, gently closing his eyes. Then, his mouth meets mine, and
I let out a sexy little “mmm” sound.
This taunting gives him a boost of confidence, and he places his hand on the back of my head, and
runs his hands through my hair.
I moan out again, quieter this time, but just enough for it to reach his ears. Then, I open my eyes and
realize we’re still in public. Dammit. I have limitations, you know.
I pull away, even though the air around us is magnetic and heating up with the intensity of the
chemistry swirling around our bodies.
“What is it?” he murmurs and tries to kiss my neck.
“Not here,” I whisper and gently push him away. “People might see us.”
“Isn’t that part of the thrill?” He breathes onto my cheek.
“Maybe not this early…” I laugh.
 Daniel sits up with a sigh and pulls the curtains closed to the cabana.
“There, is that better?” he teases.
“Um…not really.” I burst into laughter.
Daniel looks at the curtain and realizes it’s see-through fabric mesh, and we’re still fully exposed
to the world.
“Oh, well,” Daniel shrugs and gets that devilish, lust-filled glaze over his handsome features all
over again. “Let them see.”
 Daniel


She’s nervous.
It’s almost cute, watching those cinnamon roll eyes of hers dart to the beach behind me, looking for
some imagined voyeur who’s going to see all the dirty things we’re about to do to each other.
All the dirty things I’m about to make her do.
“Don’t look so anxious,” I tell her soothingly. I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I’ve
got a soothing voice: deep and dark and rich.
I stand and take the arms off her dinner chair. I’m able to pick her up, chair and all, and turn her
toward me with ease.
“I’ve never been watched before,” she says.
Rose’s smile is saucy, but I can see that flicker of fear in her eyes. It makes me hard, pushing her. I
want to take Rose to the edge of her limits and then push her beyond them.
She’s so strong, so beautiful, and so fucking pure that to see her break would be ecstasy…
But to see her resist, rise above her fears, and take what she wants from the man who wants her?
Even better.
I’ve known fear in my life. Christ, some of the shit those cock-crazed women on those fan sites say
about me is enough to make any man’s balls recede. Women on the internet write some weird-ass shit.
I’ve read the fuck-me schemes, where those women plan to somehow seduce me, poke a hole in the
condom, and get themselves pregnant off my seed.
I’ve read the weird-ass plans to dive through my trash, locate my spent condoms, and make a baby
with my discarded loads. If I was dumb enough to fall for that shit, it might have even worked.
I know my body, and I know my cock.
I’m prime breeding material.
It’s no wonder that women are falling over themselves in their obsession with my billion-dollar
cum shots.
But I don’t want to live in fear tonight.
Not in fear of where my cum might fall on Rose’s delicious, perfect cunt. Not of who might see us,
or what they might see us do.
No, I’m not afraid of being watched.
Rose shouldn’t be, either.
I take her cheek in the palm of my hand, and she leans into it. I watch the way the sunset makes her
glow—the golden tinge to her skin, and the reflections in her eyes, all pink and purple in her cinnamon
irises.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” I say, because she is.
 She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, in fact. I don’t think I’ll ever meet another beauty
quite of her caliber ever again.
“You should be used to being watched by now, Rose.”
“I am…to an extent,” she giggles. It’s a nervous giggle. Still too fucking cute to handle. “But men
staring at me on the street, fully clothed, are different from…”
“From what?” I ask, trailing my fingertips down her neck.
“From a stranger watching me…with you.”
A blush rises on Rose's breasts like it’s blooming straight from her heart. Seeing her tits like that—
all pushed up and heaving beneath the plunging neckline of her dress—it does things to my cock. Things
that make me never want to look at another woman ever again.
Things that make me want to look at Rose for eternities.
“It doesn’t get you off at all?” I ask. My fingertips are at her shoulders now, teasing the straps of the
tight little dress she came to me in. “The thought that anyone could see you orgasming around my fingers,
against my mouth?”
The blush blossoms all the way up her neck now. I can feel her skin grow hot beneath my fingers. I
watch it turn as pink as her namesake.
“I’ve…fantasized about it before,” Rose admits to me.
Christ. One little confession from those pretty lips, and she’s got me so hard.
My cock is fucking aching.
“Tell me more,” I say.
I have to know more.
Rose’s eyes dart to and fro again, searching for that imaginary onlooker. They don’t find anyone,
and they won’t—but I need her focused now.
I take her chin between my finger and thumb and turn her face up to me.
“Tell me your fantasy, Rose,” I say, running my thumb over her lower lip now. “And I’ll make it
come true.”
She inhales, leaning into my touch again. She might play shy, but it’s not who she really is. I know
that beneath all these blushing petals, there’s something raw and wild at her core that’s just begging to be
plucked.
“I’ve imagined…being fingered,” she admits. “At the movie theater, or on a train. On the subway,
maybe—except that would be fucking insane, because the subway is nasty.”
I chuckle. She’s not wrong.
“Fingered by who, Rose?”
“A man,” she gasps.
She gasps again when I take one of the straps of her dress and pull it down off her shoulder, leaving
it slumped against the taut bicep of her arm. “A man who wants me…”
 “A man who wants you so badly, he can’t wait to take you home,” I growl, pulling down the other
strap. Roses’ tits are barely covered by the tight black fabric now. With one more tug, they’ll spill out into
the open…free for me to claim and kiss and make mine. “A man who’s bold enough and man enough that
he won’t fucking wait.”
“And you want me that bad?” she whispers, staring up at me.
“You have no idea.”
Her eyes close. She gasps again when I grab the front of her top and yank it downward. Just as I
predicted, her tits spill forward. She has the prettiest fucking nipples—already hard for me, just begging
to be pleased.
My mouth falls to one of them like I’m some kind of starving beast. For her, maybe I am.
I’m starved for Rose, and a man can only control himself so much.
She moans when I take her nipple between my lips, and when I take it between my teeth, she cries
out.
For a moment, the beast abates. I look up at her, ensuring that I haven’t hurt her.
But her eyes are closed in blissful pleasure, and even as I pause, her back arches.
She’s shoving her breasts against me in my hesitation, whimpering, begging, and trying to force me
to give her more.
She doesn’t have to want twice.
My tongue roams across the hard, swollen peak of her nipple as I take her into my arms. I pull Rose
against me, breathing in the scent of her perfume with every breath. The closer she is to me, the easier it is
to smell past that perfume.
It’s beautiful, but it’s not half as good as the smell of her bare, flushed skin.
“Daniel,” she moans.
I release one nipple, only to fall upon the other. I wouldn’t want to neglect something so fucking
beautiful and so damn tasty.
“Daniel,” she whimpers.
Her hips grind against my body as I pull her up out of the chair.
“Daniel!” she gasps.
Rose is a perfect woman, I realize—even more perfect than I could have imagined. She wants a
baby, not just in mind, but in body, too. Her broad, child-bearing hips move against me in a silent plea—
one that I’ll fulfill in due time.
“Daniel!” she cries.
When I’m ready, I’m going to take this woman. I’m going to mark her as mine, fill her with my seed
and watch her perfect, flat stomach swell with my child—
Fuck, when did I get full onboard with this plan?
“Daniel! Daniel! Daniel!”
 Rose’s whole body shakes as she calls my name. As the shaking subsides, I hear her release a little
giggle against my chest.
“I think…I think you just made me come from…my nipples,” she laughs in disbelief.
Fuck. Her body responds to me so effortlessly, I don’t even have to get her panties off before I’m
making her orgasm in my arms.
“Does that happen often?” I ask out of curiosity.
“Nooooo,” she says forcefully, shaking her head. “Never before. What…what the fuck even was
that?”
I shrug, lowering her back into her chair and pressing a kiss against her lips.
“Chemistry,” I laugh. “Biology, maybe.”
When I pull away from the kiss, I see her eyes dart around once more. Like she’s checking to make
sure no one saw her orgasming while having her nipples sucked like a fucking slut.
“Rose,” I level with her. “You’re beautiful. I’m obviously gorgeous. Stop fucking worrying.”
“I know,” she laughs. “It’s just…what if like, serial killers—”
I shake my head, laughing again. “You watch too many horror movies, sweetheart,” I say, kissing
her again. “And decidedly not enough porn.”
“What if someone does see us, though?” She’s still giddy from her nipple-gasm. I’m watching her
nervousness dissipate before my very eyes.
This woman is such a fucking tease.
“Let. Them. See,” I say definitively.
My eyes drop to the hem of Rose’s skirt. Her eyes follow mine.
She won’t be worrying about anything in a minute or two.
That’s a fucking guarantee.
 Rose


“Let them see,” Daniel says, like it’s no big deal for him at all. Any moment, anyone taking a stroll
on the shoreline of his resort could come along and see Daniel and me fucking atop the table through the
gauzy curtains of this cabana.
Any moment, some fitness guru jogging along the beach could stumble upon us, making out a beast
with two backs while I twist those curtains up in my fists.
Any moment, a serial killer with a machete could come along and decide that, y’know what? He
hates it when couples have romantic trysts on his murder beach!
After all…after reading some of the forum posts from Daniel’s insane internet fans, I wouldn’t put
it past the bitches.
Like, that’s what happens to sexy couples fucking in secluded, romantic areas in the movies, right?
They get slashed by an obsessive psychopath and end up on the front page of the newspaper the next day.
Hell, there’s probably an aging police detective somewhere out there in this city right now, just a
few days from retirement. And he’s going to end up with our sex-scene-gone-wrong as his final case.
That’s how unrealistic all of this feels to me right now. Like we’re in a movie—not even our own
movie, but someone else’s. That’s how hot Daniel is, and how insanely rich―and more
importantly―how sweet he’s been to me.
Part of me wants to call bullshit. I’ve been holding my breath for the hidden cameras to pop out
since I met this guy. Now, I’m totally ready.
A billionaire? On a beach? At sunset?
While drinking this wine?
This kind of thing happens to other women. It doesn’t happen to me.
Any minute now, Ashton Kutcher is going to jump out from the waves crashing against the shore.
He’s gonna be like, “Haha, PUNK’D! Gotcha!” and I’m going to have to try and act like my panties aren’t
dripping fucking wet right now.
But none of that happens.
The waves roll in off the ocean.
The sunset reflects off the water.
Daniel nudges my sandals apart with the toe of his sexy leather shoe.
“Tell me you don’t want it.”
I swallow hard and lick my lips. They taste like fine wine and wanting.
I like that. I like the way he’s looking at me even more.
“I don’t want to lie,” I admit.
It’s the only go-ahead he needs.
 Daniel moves to his knees. That’s probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen: a man as powerful as
him and as handsome as him, kneeling before someone like me.
I haven’t been able to get it out of my head, how bad I want this strong, sexy man to dominate my
anxious ass and make me beg for his cock like a sex-crazed slut. But now that he’s on his knees before me,
pushing my knees apart and looking at me like I hung the moon in the sky tonight…
I feel like a queen.
Just like that, all my inhibitions are put out to shore and washed away with the tide.
A salt wind blows in off the water. It’s cool and fresh and smells like the waves. I shiver when it
kisses my skin.
The cold air raises goosebumps all over my body. I can feel them on my shoulders and my neck, my
breasts, and my thighs.
But Daniel’s cheek is warm as his presses it against my knee. And his lips as he kisses up my inner
thigh…
His lips are hot. Every place that they touch on my skin burns with longing, and that longing builds
into something that’s becoming harder and harder to control.
It’s not usually like this. This isn’t normal, wanting someone the way I want him.
By the time he’s kissed all the way up one thigh, I can feel the humidity of his breath against the thin
layer of lace that separates my pussy from his firm, greedy mouth.
By the time he’s kissed back down the other, I don’t just want him anymore.
I need this man.
If anyone can see us…let them see.
“Sip your wine,” he orders.
I don’t even think about it. My fingers instinctively curl around the stem of my glass. It makes the
power dynamic between us right now deeply clear: even when Daniel is on his knees, he’s still in charge.
He can pamper me—make me feel like a queen holding court by the sea—but no matter what, he’s
still king of this sand castle.
And I’m his prize.
Daniel’s hands smooth up my thighs. His touch is practically orgasmic. There’s nothing quite like
feeling a pair of strong, handsome hands on your skin.
It’s been too long since I’ve known a touch like his—or maybe, his touch is just unlike any other
I’ve ever felt.
His fingers hook beneath the waistband of my panties, sliding them downward. He doesn’t break
eye contact with me the entire time he does it. It’s like he’s intent on making sure that he doesn’t push me
to far…or maybe he’s challenging me to try and stop him.
Stopping him is the last thing I want. I slide down on my chair, and lift my ass up for him so he can
slip my panties off of me.
 The black lace glides down my thighs with ease. Removing them releases my scent. I’m so fucking
wet for Daniel, the perfume of my soaked pussy hangs around us for a moment before the next gust of wind
washes it away.
While it does, Daniel closes his eyes and inhales through his nose. Like a man smelling the bouquet
of a fine wine.
I sip my white and let the flavor explode on my tongue, while Daniel follows his nose to what I can
tell his body really wants right now: a taste.
His tongue slips between my smooth-shaven pussy lips with wanting. They’re slick for him.
Dripping with my warm honey and just begging to be licked.
He laps at my cunt like the waves on the shore. Daniel drinks from me, like my pussy is a goblet,
and he’s a man dying for a drink.
On the beach, every wave comes in harder than the last.
Between my thighs, Daniel’s tongue moves in the same way. He’s building, and building, and
building to something, and the something is inside me.
In my cunt. In my womb. Growing and growing with increased intensity.
Daniel sucks and licks my clit like he’s in love with the taste.
Any moment now, his tongue is going to make the wave that’s mounting inside of me crash through
my body, finally breaking against my skin.
Have you ever been out on the ocean? Not some silly lakeside beach, but the real ocean. Huge and
vast, powerful and wide.
The ocean that tempted our ancient ancestors to build boats and sail beyond its blue horizons. The
same ocean that inspired fearful tales of its watery depths.
The same ocean that broke the very boats its mysteries inspired.
When you move out far enough into the ocean, you learn to jump with the waves. They carry your
body upward, up to giddy heights, and lower you back down only to take you higher still.
But then it happens: a wave moves towards you, and you know it will break before it gets to your
body.
You’re faced with two choices: freeze up and let it crash down on you, sucking you under and
sending your spinning, or you can dive beneath it and marvel in its power.
I feel the orgasm coming, and I choose to dive deep.
It crashes against my body anyway.
I feel the wine slosh in my glass as it hits me. My pussy undulates as Daniel wraps his arms beneath
my thighs and holds onto my waist. My hips thrash against his mouth, bucking upwards.
I’m not sure if I’m trying to shake him or trying to shove my clit even harder against his face.
But Daniel is a hard man to shake, and by the time the orgasm washes back out to sea, I’m left
trembling. Shivering with pleasure.
 Shipwrecked against his shores and desperate for something—not just another orgasm from his
mouth, but something more.
“I need you,” I pant. My voice sounds all breathy and high, like I’ve just swam the whole of the
Atlantic in a single night. “I need you, Daniel. I need you.”
This isn’t like me. I’m usually satisfied after one! I’m not a greedy woman, and I’ve never been this
fucking demanding of a man.
But judging by the way Daniel is smiling up at me, his lips laying a final kiss on my cunt, I know.
This isn’t like me, and Daniel has orchestrated it that way. The openness. The waves.
The aphrodisiacs, the setting sun, and an orgasm that hits me so hard, it knocks me free of my
rational mind into a place where I’ll do anything he asks as long as it means feeling that kind of rapture
again.
“Sip your wine,” he orders with an amused twitch of his brow.
My hand is shaking as Daniel slips a condom out of his pocket, and I bring the glass back up to my
lips.
 Daniel


I’ve got her right where I want her.
We’re both going to fucking remember this night. As Rose sets her wine glass back down on the
table, I can see her hand shaking. It makes little ripples on the surface of the white.
She has beautiful hands, I realize: long, slender fingers.
Gorgeously shaped palms. Delicate little wrists.
As I unbuckle my belt, I know exactly where I want those hands: wrapped around my cock, stroking
it like her life depends on it.
“Knees,” I instruct her.
I can see the hunger in her eyes as she obeys. I pull my shirt over my head while she stares up at
me, blinking, waiting for her next order.
I don’t think so, Rose. She knows what she wants.
“Go on, then,” I tell her, smirking. “I think you know what to do.”
There’s only a moment of hesitation—but when push comes to shove, this woman wants me too
damn bad. A dark glint sparkles up at me in those enchanting cinnamon eyes of hers—
And then she’s tearing at the button of my slacks, doing everything in her power to take what she
wants from me as quickly as she can.
“Good girl,” I growl as she works my cock out of my boxers.
As she holds it in her fists, Rose fucking gasps.
God, I fucking love it when they gasp.
Women have been fawning over my cock since I was old enough for my first fuck, but seeing it
happen never gets old. It’s a point of pride, really—having a cock as big as mine, as thick as mine, and as
able to please a woman as my cock always is.
As far as the female orgasm goes, it has a 100% success rate. Something about the way it’s curved,
if I had to guess. It presses right up against the G-spot in just the right way…
Little does Rose know, it can go all fucking night if I want it to, as well.
I don’t have to instruct her anymore. As soon as the look of surprise vanishes from her beautiful
face, it’s replaced by another look I know all too well on a woman: desire.
Rose is desperate to get my cock in her mouth. It’s triggered some kind of animal response in her
brain that tells her exactly what she needs to do next.
She needs to smell me. Taste me on her tongue. Suck me until she’s sure that when it comes to
filling her wanton little womb with children, I’m the best man for the job.
Damn fucking right I am. She can fucking bet on that.
Rose can be shy sometimes, I know. She can be mild-mannered and polite and sweet. That makes it
even fucking hotter when she starts licking and sucking my cock like a fucking whore.
I love watching a woman go completely cock-crazed over my dick. I know it must have something
to do with how fucking well-shaped it is. Perfect color, perfect thickness, perfect size.
My cock has a huge fucking head on it that fills Rose’s mouth to the brim—and that’s just the head. I
can feel her flicking her slutty little tongue against the underside, lapping up my pre-cum with desperation.
“Good girl,” I tell her, stroking her hair.
Rose moans up at me happily—and then, a deeper, darker moan comes from her throat as I grab her
hair in my fist and start easing my dick deeper inside.
Her lips are slick with her saliva, and the back of her mouth is fucking warm. Rose has the kind of
mouth that you never want to take your cock back out of—but the way she’s licking me, I have to pull out,
or else she’s going to make me explode then and there.
When I withdraw my cock from her mouth, she whimpers with longing.
“Shhh,” I soothe, petting her hair again. “Don’t worry. We’re just getting started.”
With the next thrust, the tip of my cock presses against the back of her throat…and I’m not even
halfway in. I can see her eyes beginning to water as she struggles to accommodate me. It makes her
mascara dribble down her perfect cheekbones as her eyes well up with tears.
I let them form. She’s going to look fucking beautiful by the time I’m done with her—more beautiful
than ever, in fact.
There’s nothing more beautiful than a woman who’s been freshly fucked. Even if we’re not making
a baby together tonight, I know that when it does happen…it’s going to be fucking worth it, just to see my
cum leaking out of her tight, wet cunt.
The taste of Rose is still on my lips as I fuck her mouth. She’s moaning and whimpering for me
while I do it, too—she fucking loves being used. I lick my lips, reveling in the taste of her honey.
She got so fucking wet when I was licking her cunt, making her come to the sound of the crashing
waves…
She must have either completely forgotten that we were out in the open where anyone could come
along and see, or she realized that she was as turned on by the idea of it as I am.
Couples as gorgeous together as Rose and I are don’t fuck in public every day, you know. As far as
I’m concerned, it’s a public fucking service. Free porn.
It gets me even fucking harder, the thought that someone could be watching us right now. Letting us
show them how it’s done.
“Christ, Rose,” I swear, pulling my cock out of her mouth. She was sucked down on me so tight,
and my cock is so fucking thick, that when I remove it from her sweet fucking sugar lips it makes an
audible POP! “Do you want me to cum in your mouth?”
Rose considers it for a moment. I can see the wheels turning in her slutty little brain.
“You didn’t bring that condom for nothing,” she finally says, a sly little smile playing on her lips. “I
want to feel you in my pussy, Daniel.”
“And you don’t care who sees?”
Rose grabs onto my hips and pulls herself to her feet. The moonlight twines its fingers between the
waves of her hair and bathes her tits in its glow.
“Let them see,” she says.
I’ve never wanted to fuck a woman more in my entire goddamn life.
But as Rose pops herself up on the table, pushing aside wine glasses and dinner plates, I can’t help
but realize…this is a lot more than just a fuck.
When I claim her mouth, I’m not just thinking about how I want to get my dick inside her. I’m
thinking about how I can kiss her to make sure that she never remembers the feel of another man on her
lips.
When I squeeze her tits, I’m not just thinking about how fucking hot they are. I’m thinking that these
are the breasts that are going to feed my child and how fucking bad I want to worship them.
And finally, when I nestle my cock between the hot, slick lips of Rose’s immaculate pussy…I’m not
just thinking about getting my dick wet.
I want to make her feel me—really feel me. Not just inside her cunt, but all over her perfect fucking
body. I want her to feel me in every cell—ever petal—every thorn.
“Condom,” Rose gasps as I tease the head of my cock at her entrance.
“Fuck,” I swear, feeling the condom still between my fingers.
How the fuck did I almost forget?
I never fucking forget.
Shaking my head, I try to clear my thoughts. I’m getting drunk on this woman—drunker than any
wine has ever made me.
I get the condom rolled onto my cock in record time.
If I don’t fuck Rose now—fucking immediately—I’m going to go insane.
I take her in a single thrust. Hard and deep…but slow and exacting at the same time. I make her feel
every fucking inch of me—and that’s a lot of inches to feel. Her cunt is so fucking hot wrapped around my
dick that I find myself driven by some force beyond rhyme or reason.
The fact that there’s only a thin layer of silicone between my cum-slinger and Rose’s slutty, fertile
womb only makes me fuck her harder.
Fuck, I’m never fucking like this. There’s just something about Rose—something that I don’t have
the words to explain. Her scent, or the shape of her body, or maybe just the way she moans so sweetly in
my ear when my cock makes her come…
“Daniel!” she cries out, grabbing my hair in her fists and holding onto me like she’s being swept out
to sea. “Daniel! DANIEL!”
“Fuck—Rose!” I moan back in ecstasy.
 My balls release as they slap against her pale, smooth skin. I can feel my cock pumping my cum
into her—the way it pools around my tip as it fills the condom so full, for a moment I think it might burst.
It holds—thank god.
Tonight, if I’ve learned anything, it’s that Rose is the one I want to get pregnant. It has to be her—no
one else will do.
Rose is going to be the mother of my children.
Rose’s cunt is the cunt I’m going to pump full of my babies.
…I just don’t know yet if Rose is sure.
“That was…amazing,” Rose giggles while I rain kisses down on her neck.
When I pull away, she looks pleased enough.
Just as I suspected—she looks beautiful when she’s been well-fucked. Sparkling eyes, flushed skin,
ruined make-up, and epic sex-hair—that’s what my Rose looks like when she’s in bloom.
“Thought you might like it,” I say, grinning back at her.
“Excuse me, young man!”
There’s an elderly male voice calling out behind us, and suddenly, my stomach turns. My cock is
still inside Rose—and now there’s some old pervert out here, staring at her?
Fuck’s sake. A second ago, I was getting off on the idea that anyone could be watching us. Now, I
feel so fucking possessive of Rose that I never want another man to look at her ever again.
I do my best to cover her up with my body before I turn my head.
Standing behind us, just beyond the gauzy curtains of the cabana, is an elderly couple. The woman
is clinging to the man’s arm wistfully, smiling up at him in the moonlight. I watch as the man pulls her a
little closer to him, placing a kiss on her forehead.
“Can I help you folks?” I ask. Rose’s legs are still wrapped around my waist. When I look down at
her, she’s giggling—and when she giggles, her pussy clenches even harder around my cock.
Fuck.
“We were just wondering if you folks knew if there was a drugstore open anywhere nearby,” the
man calls out to us. If he knows what Rose and I are up to, he doesn’t make any indication of it. “The
missus and I are looking to purchase, um…”
“Condoms!” the woman calls out. “As big of a box as we can find!”
I look down at Rose, doing my fucking best not to laugh.
She’s biting down on her lower lip, trying to avoid the same.
“Just up the road and to your left,” I call back to them. My cock throbs in Rose’s cunt—even with
an audience, I’m getting hard all over again. “There’s a 24-hour place lit up like a Christmas tree—can’t
miss it.”
“Oh, thank you, dearies!” the woman calls out. I can hear her chattering to her husband as they
wander off: “I hope you packed your heart pills tonight, hot stuff! The things I’m gonna do to you tonight…
you’re gonna need ‘em!”
Once they’re out of earshot, Rose and I dissolve into laughter.
She’s got a gorgeous fucking laugh. I could listen to it for a lifetime.
But I know I’ll turn those sweet little giggles into moaning again soon enough.
 Rose


“Shit,” I swear, looking at myself in Daniel’s rear view mirror. “I’m a hot mess.”
“Emphasis on hot, I think,” Daniel says as he puts the car into park.
He’s driven us back from the beach just in time to meet my self-imposed curfew—10 p.m. on the
dot. I could’ve spent all night with him just talking and listening to the ocean…which is exactly why I was
so insistent on getting home early.
Not to mention the fact that, so far, talking with Daniel always seems to become something more
than just having a chat.
I have to hand it to him, though. When Daniel fucks a woman, he does a damn fine job of it.
The messy state of my appearance right now serves as proof.
My mascara is smudged around my eyes so badly that I look like a sexy raccoon. My hair is in a bit
of a rat’s nest, which has given it a whole new world of volume.
The lipstick I wore when I left the house has all either been kissed off, fucked off, or smeared
across my cheek. And the halter top of my little black dress has been hastily retied all lopsided and fucky.
When I left for my date with Daniel, I smelled like nice perfume and anticipation. Now, I smell like
sex and the ocean, mixed with a little white wine.
“Here,” Daniel says as he watches me try and smear my mascara into a slightly more refined
smudge. “Let me.”
He turns my face to him and I’m able to just enjoy the look of him as he fixes my makeup with a
handkerchief from his pocket, and, failing that, the pad of his thumb. I didn’t even know men still carried
handkerchiefs—but I guess I don’t know that many billionaires, truth be told.
Up close like this, when he’s not smirking, or covering me with kisses, or trying to fuck me, I can
finally appreciate how fucking handsome Daniel really is.
He has a long, straight nose that makes his face look masculine and refined, a chiseled jawline, and
the dreamiest eyes.
It’s the face of a man who I would, all things considered, be totally okay with mixing my genes up
with. And considering how tonight went…I’d say doing exactly that is right on schedule.
God, he can’t even fix my makeup without me thinking about getting pregnant with his child. If I
wasn’t already flushed from all the fucking, I’d have the decency to blush.
“There,” he says, smearing the last bit of errant lipstick away from the corner of my mouth with his
thumb. “Picture perfect.”
I do a quick check in the mirror again and realize that he’s right.
I mean, I still look pretty well-fucked, but at least I don’t look like I’m doing a bad impromptu
audition for the role of Harley Quinn.
 “I had…a really good night,” I say, and my voice is even doing that embarrassing breathy thing as I
say it. Probably because Daniel’s thumb is lingering at the corner of my mouth—and as I speak, he runs it
back over my lower lip.
He doesn’t answer me—he just goes in for another kiss. We’ve kissed enough times tonight, I’m
beginning to learn his moves.
Our lips slide against each other’s in a coordinated sort of harmony, and when he presses his
tongue into my mouth, our tongues tango like they were made to be partners.
“Get some sleep,” Daniel purrs protectively against my lips. “You’ll need it.”
“You too, tiger,” I tease. “Text me in the morning?”
“Rose, if I wasn’t afraid of smothering you, I’d text you later tonight.”
Something about that sits perfectly with me, and I end up grinning like an idiot. Being smothered by
Daniel doesn’t honestly sound half bad.
He opens the passenger side door for me and kisses me again before he drives off. I wait in the
driveway until his car is out of sight. As soon as I get inside the house, the interrogation starts.
“What does he taste like?” Jenna asks, greeting me with a knowing smile. “Is it pussy? Oh my god, I
bet he tastes like pussy.”
I laugh uncomfortably, and not just because, well…she’s kind of right.
“He tasted good,” I say, and I leave it like that. I’m a bad liar, and it’s the truth in every way—from
his lips to his cock to his cum.
But Jenna doesn’t need to know that.
“Okay, spill,” Jenna says. “You have to tell me everything.”
“We, uh…” I say, obviously stalling. “We went to the beach?”
That’s when Jenna does something that really freaks me out: she leans in, dips her nose to my
neck…and she sniffs me.
“Oh my god,” she moans, pulling away. “You two fucked. Holy shit. I can smell it on you, girl!”
“Smell what?” I say, being, like, the most obvious ever.
Jenna gives me a look that verifies: she doesn’t buy it for a second.
“Yes or no, Rose,” Jenna says with a knowing smile. “It’s okay, you can tell me—I already know
the answer.”
“I’ve, uh…I’ve still gotta process it for myself, honestly,” I say with a tired laugh. “Let me sleep on
it—I’ll give you all the dirty details soon.”
“Good night,” Jenna calls after me in a sing-songy voice. It’s only as I’m opening my bedroom door
that my word-choice hits her: “WAIT! Dirty details?! HOW DIRTY, ROSE?! HOW DIRTY!?!?!”
I hate to leave Jenna in the lurch…only, I kind of don’t. I’ve always had to share everything with
my cousins, be it clothes, or secrets, or Halloween candy. Jenna and I even share a birthday.
I’ve always been kind of a private person, and for once, I’m feeling kind of smug about keeping this
sexy story to myself. It’s not that I’m ashamed of it—in fact, I know that Jenna would probably die of
jealousy if she heard it all.
Something between Daniel and myself feels…special. Kind of sacred…and secret…and holy.
Maybe I’m just still half-dumb from how hard he fucked me, but I really want to believe that there
could be something more going on here…
Or maybe I just need to stop being such a fucking romantic and hit the hay.
Either way, when I wake up the next morning, there’s a message from Daniel waiting for me.
Good morning, gorgeous, the text reads, and if that doesn’t make my heart go pitter-patter, I don’t
know what would.
I consider my retaliation text carefully because, yeah, I’m apparently a starry-eyed, fifteen-year-old
all over again when it comes to this guy. Part of me wants to believe that he’s actually into me. That last
night was actually as crazy-awesome as I feel like it was.
That there could be something real growing between us.
The other part of me is playing the cynic. It figures that this dude just has some kind of weird
pregnancy fetish, and I’m a willing participant.
Good morning to you too, I send back and then, feeling sudden wave of sauciness, I add a winky
face.
Sufficiently reassured that I am, in fact, a texting genius, I venture out into the kitchen and dodge
another coy line of questioning from Jenna over my morning coffee.
“Rose, I’ll die if you don’t tell me,” she says, pouting.
Luckily, I can deflect her line of questioning by leaving for work, and I know she’ll be off soon
with my adorable nephew to pick up her hubby form the airport.
“I’ll tell you later!” I say, practically running out the door. “Love you!”
“Love you, too, ho!” she says, covering my nephew’s ears for the last bit.
She’s a good mom, Jenna. Just, holy shit, I’ve never met a nosier person in my life.
Work is work. Another day, another dollar—whatever. The exciting thing, of course, is my ongoing
chat with Daniel—who has responded super positively to my ongoing flirtation-via-emoji.
New resort opening this week. Want to get away for a couple of days? his latest message reads.
I fantasize about it for a full minute: Daniel and me, lounging around on another sexy beach, soaking
up the sun, and rubbing each other’s bodies with sunscreen until—unf—his fingers curl beneath my bikini
bottoms, pulling them downward as he lowers his mouth…
Then, I come back to reality with the awful truth:
I’d love to :) Need to check with my boss about getting time off, though.
Let me know, he messages back. I need to see you again, beautiful.
He doesn’t add a winky face, but I’m pretty happy with the results nonetheless. The prospect of
enjoying two whole days at one of Daniel’s resorts has butterflies coming to life in my stomach. I feel like
when I open my mouth to ask my boss for the time off, they’ll fly out and flutter around the office for the
rest of the day.
Maybe my inner optimist is right. Maybe this can be something. The more I obsessively scrutinize
Daniel’s texts to me, the more hopeful I become.
…but not too hopeful, of course. My inner cynic is still along for the ride, pinching me to make sure
I’m not dreaming with every passing moment.
I know he’s a playboy, and I know I shouldn’t let my guard down…
But that doesn’t stop me from allowing myself to get my hopes up.
Just a little.
;)
 Daniel


Rose is a fine conversationalist. Yeah, that’s right…I care about that kind of shit, too. It’s not
always just about the pussy.
Although I have to admit…the conversations almost always lead to pussy in the end.
But Rose isn’t just a good conversationalist. She’s cute, sweet, funny, smart―and sexy as hell. So,
what’s the problem, right?
Why does there even have to be a problem, you ask? Alas, the world isn’t perfect, and neither is
any relationship I’ve ever been in.
I have a problem. A mental issue.
Well, allow me to rephrase. I have a setback when it comes to sex that perhaps might prove itself to
be unfavorable under the circumstances of this extremely unique situation I’m currently in with Rose.
Okay, I’m just going to come right out and say it:
I can’t come without a condom on my cock.
There, happy now?
Yes, it’s a mental thing. I don’t know why or when it started, but I’m always extra careful when I
fuck women. Like obsessively so. To the point that I’ve trained myself to only cum fully protected.
I mean, I don’t want to have a horde of bastard children just walking around out there, while the
baby mamas beg me for child support. I’ve seen enough of that shit with my step-siblings.
I’m literally shuddering at the idea right now.
Here’s the thing…Rose wants me to give her a baby. I think we’re both fully on board with the plan
after our date the other night.
So how the hell am I going to retrain myself to be able to jizz out the special sauce without a
condom? She pretty much needs my sperm filling up that cunt and overflowing, and the idea makes me
both quiver with dread and jump for joy with excitement.
My point?
My tedious little problem has the potential to become our problem if I don’t at least put forth some
solid effort to remediate the issue somehow. Given that having a child with Rose is part of the current
plan, yeah…I have my work cut out for me.
It’s been a few days since I last saw Rose, so imagine my delight when my phone buzzes on my
work desk, and I notice that I have a new message from her. Grinning, I scoop up the phone to check,
secretly hoping that she’ll want to get together today.
Hi! I just want to let you know that I’d love to take you up on your offer to have lunch at your
newest resort hotel. I’m willing to pack a bag for a few days of fun.
She ends the text with an adorable pink heart and a grinning smile emoji. I internally chuckle a
moment. Why the fuck do these emoji’s do me in?
Rose is the fucking cutest, and I genuinely love spending time with her. Why else would I agree to
be a live and participating sperm donor if I didn’t?
The little getaway will also be a fantastic way for us to get to know each other better and explore
each other’s bodies in a more intimate way. Of course, I’m looking forward to the hot-as-hell fucking the
most, but the condom problem is looming in the back of my mind.
I already plan on savoring every inch of her delicious and decadently smooth body, her warm skin,
and her feminine scent. She’s amazing―pure perfection, really―and she leaves me with a throbbing in
my cock that’s fucking insatiable. Given the chance, I’ll dive into her over and over, with more than a
little enthusiasm.
Rose, I’m fucking thrilled. Pick you up first thing in the morning.
I send my response and smile with something I suspect is close to giddiness. And fuck, that’s never
happened before. This woman…
My quest to have the most amazing woman on the planet give me my heir is well within my reach,
and, well, let’s say I always get what I want.
____________________
The next morning, I’m at Rose’s doorstep, parking right outside of her apartment building to pick
her up.
I’m so eager to spend the day with her, I make sure to whisk her away as early as possible so that
we don’t waste a single minute.
The resort is about an hour and a half away, so I want to leave plenty of time to get there before
lunch.
“Good morning,” Rose practically prances down the sidewalk to greet me.
I grin, unfamiliar, wild affection taking hold of me. Just looking at her juicy red lips and long, wavy
hair makes my cock so hard it fucking aches.
She’s wearing a pastel yellow sundress this time, accentuating her gorgeous tan. She slips a slender
arm around my waist and hugs me close. She smells incredible.
She plants a tender kiss on my cheek and gives me a seductive bat of her eyes. “It’s so good to see
you.” The words drip from her lips like honey, and I want to devour every last drop.
I swallow hard, intensely trying to hide my growing boner in my pants.
“I’m thrilled to see you, too,” I tell her with a wink.
I help her climb into my car—I drove the Lamborghini this time—and we ride off, coasting down
the street. Rose turns to smile at me.
“Tell me about your new hotel.” She says it with genuine interest, which I fucking love.
“It’s going to be completely fucking awesome,” I admit with pride. “You’ll absolutely love it,
believe me.”
 Rose smiles and crosses her legs in the passenger seat, revealing more of her thighs that makes me
drool. Fuck, I want to be right in between them right now.
“I have no doubt I’ll be impressed,” she says.
“It’s just a soft opening, not the grand opening yet. There won’t be a lot of press and PR to worry
about, and this way will be better because we can have some privacy.”
“I like privacy,” Rose winks at me, and my fucking heart actually skips a fucking beat.
Jesus, what’s she doing to me?
If there’s one non-physical trait I can say surges me into even deeper desire for Rose, it’s the fact
that I can tell she’s not materialistic. She’s not the type of woman that usually just wants a piece of me,
and I can see through to her true colors that she’s a down-to-earth type of girl.
I’m beginning to notice that she gets excited over the simple things in life, the things that really
matter.
In my opinion, fawning over the little blessings is what makes life spectacular, and I’m thankful that
I have that in common with Rose. She’s a rare flower, for sure.
After a while of talking and laughing in the car, I pull up to the valet at the hotel, and a concierge
welcomes us as I pass off my keys to the valet.
“Hello, sir.” The concierge bows before me extravagantly. “What an honor it is to have you here
today for lunch with us.”
“It’s a pleasure.” I’m almost embarrassed by how showy he’s being. I thank the enthusiastic man
and gently place my arm around Rose’s petite waist.
The concierge beams at Rose and gives her a tiny little bow, too. “Good afternoon, madam, it’s a
pleasure to have you here with us for lunch.”
“Thank you,” Rose says politely.
We walk inside the hotel together.
“Wow.”
I glance over at Rose and immediately smile when I notice how she’s absorbing the grandiose
lobby, filled with modern, elegant touches and sprays of colorful orchids adorning the counters and tables.
“Do you like it?” I grin.
Rose eyes me as if I’m crazy. “Are you kidding? It’s stunning! Amazing! Just…wow.”
I chuckle. “Thank you. We pride ourselves on presentation, and the first impression is always the
most important.”
“You certainly don’t disappoint,” Rose says as she gazes with what looks like fucking adoration
into my eyes and squeezes my hand.
“Thank you, my lovely lady.”
I am totally fucking floored by this woman.
“Be careful, if we swoon over each other too much, people might start to talk,” Rose warns
playfully.
“Let them talk,” I scoff, unaffected by what other people think.
I lead her to the restaurant that’s tucked away in a cozy corner in the back of the hotel.
“This looks swanky,” Rose whispers.
“Not to mention trendy,” I quip.
“I can’t wait to see what’s on the menu,” Rose states and rubs her flat, toned stomach. A stomach
I’m quickly wanting to see nice and round with my baby. “I’m starving.”
“I’m pretty fucking hungry, too,” I whisper into her neck, loose with the sexual innuendos.
Rose catches on immediately. She glances up at me with a naughty, devious smirk. “Maybe we
should save room for dessert.”
“Darling, there is always room for dessert.”
I smile as I push open the door of the restaurant to allow her to enter first.
“Good afternoon.” A tall, friendly-looking hostess greets us with a bright smile. “Table for two?”
“In the back, please,” I instruct the young girl.
As soon as I respond, a look of recognition sparks in the hostess’ eyes.
“Holy crap, you’re the owner of this hotel, aren’t you?”
I nod. “Indeed, I am.”
“Wow, well, in that case, you can have our finest booth in the back, private and secluded from most
of the restaurant. Please, just follow me.”
The girl bounces away with us in tow.
When we sit down at the table, Rose is grinning at me with amusement.
“What?” I laugh as I place my white cloth napkin in my lap.
Rose shakes her head. “Nothing, it’s just…well, you’re quite the celebrity over here.”
I laugh dismissively. “Hardly.”
“Oh, come on,” Rose places her hand softly on my arm. “Give yourself some credit. You work
hard, you deserve it.”
“Well…” I smile. “Thanks.”
“What’s not to enjoy?” She smiles. “You’re sexy, smart, and charming.”
My cock hardens again. “And you, my dear, are incredible. Thanks for coming with me.”
“I’m always up for a free meal,” she teases, trying to get a rise out of me, but it doesn’t work. I
know she’s not using me for my money. She’s using me for my cock.
But I plan on making this a lot more than that. There are plenty of details we haven’t worked out
with our baby bargain, but I have plenty of stipulations in mine. Like the fact that I want to keep Rose
around me for…well, maybe forever.
We order mimosas and tuna steaks with risotto. Once the food comes, we eat in companionable
silence, relishing in the delectable and savory feast.
 I feel totally at ease with her. It’s like conversation isn’t even necessary. We’re both just happy to
be here.
“This lunch is absolutely incredible,” Rose says when she’s had her fill, leaning back and sighing
with contentment.
“Do you want to hear something else that’s incredible?” I give her a devilish grin.
“Always,” she whispers seductively.
“Your legs,” I tell her and move my leg to push my knees between hers, spreading them wide open.
She lets them fall apart, lets me ease her open like a blossoming flower. The intense heat between
us fills my cock with a rush of blood as it pounds, pulses, and stands at attention, practically fucking
bursting from my pants.
The fact that we’re alone, yet still in a public place, gives me more fuel to act on the sexual tension
and chemistry that swirls around us.
Sure, I want to fuck her right here on the table, but I know that won’t be acceptable. Plus, I’m the
fucking boss. I should probably maintain some amount of propriety, whether I fucking want to or not.
“I have to say, it’s fucking nice that every time I see you, you’re wearing a dress,” I tease her.
“Easy access?” She giggles.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” I say and take a deep breath.
Christ, Rose has me wrapped around her finger already.
The craziest part? I fucking love it.
 Daniel


Easy access. I like the sound of those words.
It might be easy access for my fingers, but for my throbbing cock—it’s an entirely different story.
And it’s my cock that really wants to get inside her pussy.
But, if it can’t be, I’ll have to make alternative arrangements. After all, I’m a man full of fucking
ideas.
I watch her dip a piece of bread in olive oil before bringing it to her mouth. Her lips pucker a little
as she takes the delicacy between her teeth. Oil drips down her chin.
Instantly, I reach out with a finger to clean up the mess.
She smiles.
I decide to change position. Sitting across from her means I can’t quite reach the part of her I really
want to taste tonight. And since I know her legs are stretched far apart, it’s time to make my next move.
I slide into the seat beside her. Our bare skin touches, and I can practically feel the fucking scorch
marks.
She looks at me intently as I dip my fingers in my glass of water and pull out an ice cube.
I grin at the confusion on her face. I drop the hand with the ice cube under the table and press it
against her thigh.
Her breath hitches, and her eyes widen at the sudden cold contact.
I bring the ice cube up to her hot and wet pussy and push it against her clit.
She holds her breath for a few seconds, and when I move the melting object across her sensitive
flesh, I hear her breathe slowly.
A dreamy look appears on her face, and those delicious red lips curl up into a soft smile.
The ice has melted, but I leave my fingers where they are, stroking her pussy. I feel her scoot
forward to push harder against my hand, as if she’s eager for more.
I smile.
“A little impatient, are we?” I tease.
Just then, the waitress comes to check on us. “Anyone up for dessert?”
“Shall I order dessert for you, my love?” I ask.
Rose nods, and I see her lick her lips. Her cheeks have reddened a little, but I leave my hand where
it’s comfortable. No point drawing attention to its current position.
It’s not like anyone can see what I’m doing anyway. For anyone standing near our table, it would
just look like I’ve got my hand resting on my lap.
“We’ll take the crème brulee for two, please.”
“Certainly.” The young woman smiles and is about to leave when I decide I better order another
bottle of wine.
“And a Pinot Gris as well.”
After a quick nod, the waitress leaves.
“OMG,” whispers Rose. “I can’t believe what you’re doing.”
Despite her words, she doesn’t push my hand away or move herself into a different position.
I pretend to look shocked and then feign ignorance. “I haven’t got the slightest idea what you’re
accusing me of.” My hand pushes a little harder against her. I feel the waves of pleasure rippling through
Rose.
She giggles. Damn, she looks sexy with those normally pale cheeks now flushed with pleasure. I
love the way she’s squirming and wrestling with herself about my hand and her exposed pussy.
It makes her look even sexier than she already does.
“Now then,” I lean into her, “where was I?”
I kiss her neck and nibble on the lobe of her ear. A soft moan escapes her lips. I start to move my
finger gently across her clit, from side to side and up and down.
“Do…good…in public…” Her words come out jumbled.
Of course I know what she’s trying to tell me, but I play dumb anyway.
“I have no idea what you’re trying to say,” I whisper into her ear, my fingers now hovering near her
entrance, teasing her.
A waiter approaches and pours the new wine into a glass for me to taste.
I take a small sip of the white wine and swirl it around my mouth before swallowing.
“I’ve had better, but it’ll do until later,” I say to the man and watch him fill Rose’s glass and then
mine.
“I can’t believe you just said that to the poor young man,” Rose says in shock, and I grin.
“I don’t think he understood the double meaning,” I reply and continue to place little kisses on her
neck. My hand goes back to her clit.
If there’s one thing that turns me on more than anything else, it’s to see her inner struggle. She looks
so fucking delicious as she squirms in her seat, torn between giving in to what’s happening and fighting
against it.
Right now, the giving in is winning.
Slowly, I move my hand off her clit and let my finger push all the way into that dripping pussy of
hers.
I push as far as I can and then hook my finger in. The little squeal she makes lets me know I’ve
found it—her sweet spot.
As I massage her inner walls, she tries to keep her face as nonchalant as possible.
And then I pull out of her again. I can practically hear and feel her disappointment. But she doesn’t
have to wait too long.
 Once I’m out of her, I use the juices on my finger to draw little lines along the inside of her legs.
“Oh, fuck, Daniel,” she mumbles, her right hand gripping my leg. She’s digging her fingernails into
my thigh.
My massive cock is throbbing in my pants, and I’ll have to do some serious mediation before I can
stand up and leave this table. There’s no way I can get up with this massive hard-on in my pants.
Our dessert arrives, so I leave my hand pressed against her pussy.
She sighs and picks up her spoon, digging into the sweet dessert.
She takes her first mouthful, and I say, “Remind you of something else that’s delicious and
creamy?”
She shakes her head.
“I’ll give you a hint.” I wink and point to my crotch.
Her eyes widen.
“Maybe in the kitchen,” I suggest with a grin.
Rose laughs. “I seriously doubt it,” she finally manages to say between mouthfuls.
Mentally, I give her another tick. She’s got a wicked sense of humor—another thing I like in a
woman.
I can’t stand girls who pretend to be all prim and proper and shit. No. A woman’s got to be able to
take a joke and tell one.
The dessert is fucking delicious, but not as delicious as my lunch companion and resort date.
I can’t fucking wait to leave lunch and fuck her properly.
My fingers go back to humping her pussy. I want to see her come here at the restaurant, over lunch.
I’m not a betting man, but if I were, I’d say it won’t take me long to tip her over the edge and make
her have an orgasm right here in public.
The knowledge that I’m pushing her out of her comfort zone is more intoxicating than scotch on ice.
“I want to watch you come. I want to see you fuck my fingers and do it right here in public,” I
whisper into her ear.
Now her face goes an even darker shade of red.
“Daniel,” she says under her breath. At the same time, she pushes her hips toward my plunging
finger. “I…it’s a bit too public…our room.”
There’s no one around us. We’re so far out of everyone’s line of sight that I can even take my pants
off and sit her on my lap so I can fuck her for real.
Briefly, I entertain that idea. Now, that would be fucking awesome.
As I pummel in and out of her faster and harder, the walls of her pussy tighten, grabbing my fingers
and trying to break them in two.
Fuck, she’s got one strong pussy. I can’t wait for my cock to be inside her.
I should just pick her up and take her to our room right fucking now. What the fuck am I doing
waiting?
But I do want to keep giving her this pleasure right now because it feels fucking good to see her
glow with desire and lust.
Faster and faster, I move in and out. Will she grab onto the table any minute and yell at the top of
her lungs, like that chick in that movie? I can picture the scene, but for the life of me, I can’t recall the
title.
I feel that Rose is getting close to coming. Her pussy becomes tighter and tighter, and I can feel her
body quiver in anticipation.
And then her orgasm erupts deep within her and spreads through her like a wildfire. Even though
she’s trying to keep her face impassive, I can see the pleasure burning in her eyes before they roll to the
back of her head in ecstasy.
When her body stops shivering, I pull my finger out of her. I hold it up in front of her face, and she
wraps her own tongue around it and sucks all her cum off. When she’s finished, I draw it out of her mouth
with a loud pop.
“Now,” she leans into me, “do you think you have room for more dessert after this?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I stand up. “I can’t fucking wait for it.”
We leave the restaurant laughing like two horny teenagers who’ve committed some petty crime and
are running from the scene.
 Rose


I’m torn between feeling absolutely embarrassed as hell and feeling like I just did something to be
proud of.
If Jenna—or any of my other cousins were to hear what just happened—they’d die. Okay, so they
wouldn’t die, but they’d turn green with envy.
I mean, I don’t think any of them have ever done anything as kinky as letting their doting husbands
finger fuck them in public.
Speaking of which…did I really just do that?
I bite my bottom lip. The pain shooting through me is real, so it definitely isn’t a dream. But holy
hell, what came over me?
Where’s the good girl Rose who would never do anything so daring and outrageous?
I shake my head, but I can’t help being giddy with excitement.
It’s not as if being the good girl is something to brag about—especially if being good means being
boring.
Am I boring?
I frown, wondering.
Daniel stops in front of the elevator and presses the button for our floor. Our eyes meet, and I feel a
little like a movie star. It’s not every day that I get whisked away to a five-star ultra-luxury beach resort
where my date is the owner.
Date...Is that even the correct word?
Is he my date, or is he something else? Technically, we aren’t dating. I mean this is supposed to be
a business arrangement, isn’t it?
A business arrangement...but that sounds too odd for words, too. How can having a baby be a
business arrangement?
Images of dirty diapers, messy babies, and tantrums come to mind. I think it’s going to be far from
business, which is white shirts, contracts, and meetings over coffee or long lunches.
Is it also the warmth of his lips on the side of my head, rousing me from my wayward thoughts?
This is hardly the moment to be debating our arrangement—what to call it and how to classify it.
Early days, Rose, I remind myself.
I mean, I might find Daniel totally intolerable by the morning. I might decide this baby bargain was
a fucking terrible idea.
Somehow, I know I won’t, though.
Gently, he pushes me into the open elevator and keeps his arm wrapped around me.
I see another couple approach, but they hesitate and the doors slide shut. Thank fuck.
 Daniel turns me toward him immediately and his mouth melts into mine like chocolate on my
tongue.
My hands slide down the back of his pants, and I pull him toward me.
Briefly, I wonder if we’re going to have elevator sex. I’ve never done it in an elevator, and the idea
has me gushing all over again. Come to think of it, I haven’t done it many places at all.
When Daniel thrusts his hips toward me, I’m tempted to just open his zipper and free his locked up
cock and drop to my knees to worship it, but there’s a little jolt and we come to a sudden stop.
A huge part of me hopes that we’ve broken down so that we can live out my new fantasy of fucking
in an elevator, waiting to be rescued.
But instead of lifting my dress to get to my pussy, Daniel moves away from me and leads me out the
door.
Okay, well, maybe we’ll fuck in the elevator another time. I’m sure that whatever we do next, it
will be just as mind-blowing as everything else we’ve done so far.
He opens the door to our penthouse suite, and I suck in my breath as I’m confronted with insanely
over-the-top luxury.
The hallway leads to a huge living room with a red leather lounge, massive windows that capture
the view of the ocean and a huge fireplace that takes up an entire wall.
On the ornate wooden coffee table rests a silver bucket with ice and a bottle of champagne, along
with two tall gold-rimmed glasses. There’s a bunch of chocolate-dipped fruits there as well.
At first glance, I thought it was a rather exotic bunch of flowers, but on closer inspection, it’s fruit
dipped in white, dark, and milk chocolate.
Daniel takes one of the strawberries and holds it to my mouth. I take it from him with my teeth.
Then I lick his finger and release it with a loud pop.
Our eyes lock. He picks another piece of fruit and offers it to me again. While he keeps feeding me,
I undo the zipper of my dress and let it slide down my shoulders.
A little strawberry juice runs down my chin, and Daniel leans forward to lick it off me. His hands
find the back of my bra and unhook it.
My breasts bounce up and down when they’re freed. The sensation of Daniel’s eyes on me and the
fresh air on my tingling skin leaves me feeling overwhelmed and needy.
I watch him take off the lid of a small round container. Then he dips his finger into it.
Mesmerized, I watch as he now holds up his chocolate-covered finger. He leans forward and
smears it onto my already rock-hard nipples. Holy shit.
“Now that’s a bit sticky,” I mumble, almost incoherent with the lust rocketing through me, and
watch him repeat his actions.
Daniel grins. “I promise to lick it all off.”
He shoves me gently onto the couch. He pulls the dress away and actually fucking rips my thong
right off me. Then, he draws a chocolate line from nipple to nipple and down to my throbbing, waiting
pussy.
Oh god, this man really knows how to drive a woman insane. My body feels like it’s on fire, the
flames licking my pussy, the back of my head, and my insides.
My skin burns with desire, and my pussy aches for Daniel to touch it—fingers, tongue, cock, I don’t
fucking care as long as he relieves some of this tension building inside me.
I arch my lower back and thrust my pelvis toward his finger.
But Daniel isn’t done. He keeps dipping into the chocolate and painting my body as if I’m the
canvas and he’s the artist.
If he doesn’t fuck me soon or do something other than cover me in chocolate, I swear I’ll go mad.
How much teasing can a body stand?
As if having read my mind, he finally makes his move.
I feel his tongue lick at my belly button. From there, he moves up to my nipples. His mouth engulfs
first the left and then the right.
Stars appear in front of my eyes, and my head spins. I can’t think straight anymore, and I’m not even
sure I’ll still remember my own name after this.
Could you lose your mind from too much pleasure?
If so, I don’t recall having read about it. Since you can read all kinds of useless shit on the internet,
and I haven’t read about anyone losing his or her marbles from too much pleasure, it can’t be possible.
But I might be the first.
By now Daniel’s tongue and mouth are working away at my belly and lower abdomen.
“Daniel, please, just fuck me already,” I beg. I’m surprised at my own language and behavior.
Before him, I have neither used the word ‘fuck’ during sex nor thought it. And I would never have
begged a guy like this.
Of course, Daniel isn’t just any guy. He’s a fucking magician with his hands, tongue, and mouth. But
what I really want is his big, thick cock inside my throbbing pussy.
Daniel responds to my request by burying his nose into my wetness. His tongue starts work away at
my clit and then pushes into me.
“Fuuuuuuuck,” I screech and lift my ass off the couch to meet his tongue.
By now, that fire Daniel ignited in me earlier is burning so brightly I fear it might consume me
completely.
When his hands find my ass, I lose complete control of my senses. It’s as if I’ve jumped off a cliff
and am now floating on clouds.
His tongue darts merciless in and out of my pulsing, throbbing, drenched pussy.
O. M. G.
He’s going to make me come again. And he hasn’t even used his cock yet. How many orgasms can I
have in one afternoon? How many can you have before exhaustion and the inability to have any more set
in?
I think Daniel’s determined to find out.
“Oh, Daaaaaaannniiiiieeel,” I scream and dig my fingernails into his shoulders.
This orgasm is going to be even bigger than the one over lunch. I can feel the tingling sensation start
in my groin before exploding in a decadently violent spasm, spreading through me.
The walls of my pussy contract and massage his tongue as it continues to mercilessly dart in and out
of me.
When my body convulses, and the waves of pleasure wash over me again and again, I close my
eyes and think there is no way I can survive this all-consuming bliss.
Although I’m a little too young to die, I resign myself to my fate because one thing is certain: I don’t
want Daniel to stop.
After the orgasm subsides, I watch him take off his pants and place a small foil packet within arm’s
reach. Naked in all his perfect Greek-god glory, he faces me.
His bouncing cock looks ready for action. I sit up, ready to feast on his massive dick.
After the way he just made me feel, I’m ready to return the favor. I lick my lips, eager to finally get
a taste of him.
 Daniel


If there’s one thing I just love, it’s pushing this prim and proper girl right over the fucking edge.
I was amazed she didn’t run a mile when I started to finger fuck her right there at the restaurant. At
first, her eyes were full of hesitation, but it didn’t take long for them to express flat-out desire.
Those eyes suck me right in, their cinnamon color something else altogether.
There’s something honest in them, and I know there’s a wild beast in there, waiting to be
unleashed―an animal filled with primal lust and passion.
As she’s taking in the sight of my cock, it requires every ounce of self-control not to shove it right
into her perfect little mouth.
I know she wants it. The way she’s licking her lips, the way her mouth is parted just a little, it’s
only a matter of time before my cock will be inside her.
There are a few drops of pre-cum glistening at the tip. I’m ready to fucking explode.
Mesmerized, I watch her tongue dart out and lick those droplets away. Then, she slowly and gently
leans toward me to kiss the tip of my now quivering cock.
I feel goosebumps travel up my spine and arms. There’s something magical in her action. Her
breath is soft and delicate, warm and gentle.
Fuck, it feels good—so fucking good—to have those velvet lips wrapped around my throbbing
member. Briefly, I close my eyes and feel as if I’m floating on my back through a sea of desire.
She opens her lips wider to accommodate all of me, and I slowly feel like I’m fucking drowning. I
clutch onto her tits, holding on like my life depends on it—like she’s my only salvation.
My fingers tease and squeeze, rubbing and kneading.
Hungrily, she starts to suck on my cock. This is what I’ve been fucking waiting for. I throw my head
back and take a deep breath.
I want to enjoy this for as long as possible. I don’t want to erupt into her tight, wet mouth too early.
While her mouth is working its magic on my member, her hands have found another sensitive spot
—my balls. She plays with them, rolls them around, and then squeezes them.
I don’t think I’ve ever had such a cocktail of sensations run through me. This woman knows her
stuff.
She increases her pace. I watch her head bob up and down, and I marvel at the way her lips smack
against my cock. The sound is fucking music to my ears.
I feel my massive cock expand with each inward thrust, and her tongue makes the most of it, darting
out to lick my base each time she gets there.
Time. Such a strange concept.
It slows right down, and I’m acutely aware of her flawless pale skin, the bud-like nipples on those
fleshy tits of hers, and her eyes. She’s completely lost in what she’s doing, giving it more than a hundred
fucking percent.
I like this girl. A whole fucking lot. I think I made a good choice when I approached her.
If only there wasn’t my small problem. It’s so small it’s barely worth mentioning, and it will still be
a little while before I need to raise it with her.
Stop ruining the fucking moment, I growl at myself.
Multiple explosions assault my insides. Fireworks to rival New Year’s Eve are starting at the base
of my spine and spreading through me at breakneck speed.
My huge load builds up in my balls, and then, without further warning, I erupt like a fucking angry
volcano in her beautiful mouth.
She does her best to swallow every last drop of my creamy cum as I shoot it down her throat, but it
overflows and runs down her chin.
When the orgasm has passed, I pull out of her with a pop.
With my index finger, I wipe my own cum off her face with a finger, which she licks like it’s
another one of those chocolate-covered fruits. She even bites my finger gently, teasingly, before she lets
me go.
Then she stands up and struts around the room. I watch her head to the sound system. As she bends
over to check out the selection, I get a good look at her ass and the swollen lips of her pussy.
My cock’s coming to life again already.
I’m not sure what she’s chosen, but as soon as she presses play, her body starts to bend, twist, and
twirl to some boppy pop song.
I have never heard of it before, but I love the way her body becomes one with the music. Her own
hands stroke, caress, and explore her curves.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Unable to stay where I am any longer, I join her. The next song is a slow one, and I wrap my arms
around her back, pulling her as close to me as possible. Now we sway as one to some love song.
My cock presses into her ass, and I’m tempted to just shove it into her, here and now. But it seems
wrong to the break this moment.
Her movements are fluid. I wonder if she used to take dance classes.
Slowly, I turn her in my arms so she’s facing me. Her tits rub against my chest, and her hands link
behind my neck. I lower my mouth to hers. Our tongues meet, and pleasure erupts in me.
I need to take her, but before I do, there’s a little matter I have to attend to.
The music changes again. It’s another genre I’m not familiar with.
I move back to the coffee table and grab the packet I had left on it earlier. I pull out the condom, and
it’s on my fucking cock before she realizes what’s going on.
The tip of my cock hovers at her dripping pussy. I debate my next move. And then, I let her warp
her legs around my waist, straddling me.
Oh. Fuck.
As I stand there, Rose in my arms and on top of my cock, I feel the world spin around me. If I didn’t
know any better, I’d say I was drunk. But I’m not―except maybe drunk on ecstasy.
With her arms still around my neck, she thrusts against me, using her crossed legs behind my back
as support.
This is the most amazing fucking feeling I’ve ever experienced. I knew there was some kind of
caged animal locked inside this woman. I’m sure this is only the beginning of the more adventurous Rose
coming out.
As fucking awesome as this is, I need to put her down and really fuck her. There’s an aching need I
have to fill.
My eyes zero in on the table, and I head for it. Gently, I put her on her back and make sure her legs
drape over the edge.
I’ve momentarily pulled out of her to change position, and now that she’s in the perfect spot, I
spread her legs apart and shove deep inside her.
A low moan escapes her lips. My hands use her tits as support. I push into her slowly until my balls
are pressing against her ass.
And then I start pummeling into her, hard and fast.
She meets me with her own little upward thrusts as I slam into her again and again. Soon, the music
stops, and the only sounds we can hear are my balls slapping against her naked skin and our short,
shallow breathing.
There’s the occasional moan, and then Rose is yelping like a little lost puppy dog.
“Yeeeeeeeeeessssss,” she hisses, and I see her body tense all over. Her hands reach for my
shoulders, and I feel her nails dig into me.
I can sense she’s about to come.
So am I. My cock grows with each thrust. It’s expanding, and the walls of her pussy are tightening. I
increase my pace yet again.
The pressure of her tightening pussy is too much for my cock. I suddenly explode deep within her.
Wave after wave of cum fills my condom. My hands are frozen on her tits, and now she’s engulfed
in her own orgasm.
Her pussy is tightening around me and squeezing every last bit of juice out of me. I fear she might
break me. Eventually, I feel her go limp beneath me.
I stay in her a little longer, relishing the sensation of that fucking tight pussy.
When I pull out of her, I give her a gentle kiss on the nose and stand to discard my condom.
After I return, she’s still leaning against the table. There’s a dreamy expression on her face.
“Another glass of cool bubbles?” I offer, and she nods.
 “Actually, I don’t think I finished my last glass.” She goes over to the couch to take a look. I feast
my eyes on her ass for a moment before I join her.
Naked, we lie on the soft leather and stare out the window at the deep, dark blue ocean. Later, I
think we’ll go for a walk along the beach. And if it’s deserted enough, you never know what we might end
up doing there.
 Rose


I look at myself in the mirror and breathe a sigh of relief when the same familiar face looks back at
me.
I mean, like, all of this luxury and expensive shit is so unusual I’m half-afraid I might have turned
into someone totally different.
From ordinary girl to what—fake exquisite beauty? I smirk at the thought.
Is that possible? If you get used to all this expensive stuff can your looks change, too?
Of course they can, my inner voice pipes up.
When was the last time you picked up one of those glossy women magazines, the ones that tell you
about the type of plastic surgery the rich and famous are having, the number of Botox injections, and not to
mention the latest diet they subject themselves to?
And then there are contact lenses that change eye colors, beauty salons for manicures and
pedicures, and parlors where they do all kinds of other painful things to your body.
The thoughts have me shivering a little. No, thank you. I may not be a supermodel, but I’m not hard
on the eyes.
I’ll take myself as I am, thank you very much. And Daniel seems more than satisfied with what he
sees.
I sigh and pull my hair up into a ponytail.
Of course it’s not a hip, cool, or deluxe hairdo, but it’s practical and super comfy for a day at the
beach.
And that is what I’ve been promised—a day at the beach.
Briefly, I’m tempted to put on the war paint, but then I dismiss the idea. If this is about finding out
how compatible we are, he may as well get to look at me in my natural state.
I mean, he’s seen me naked, mascara smeared across my face from choking on his cock. Surely no
makeup will be okay, too.
My cheeks blush just a little as I recall some of the crazy hot sex we’ve been having. Just thinking
about it makes me tingle all over and long for his touch again.
Daniel is an expert at dishing out pleasure. He seems to know my body better than even I do. The
way his fingers caress my flesh, not to mention the fact he’s found and unlocked my sweet spot.
I didn’t even know I had a sweet spot.
Sure, I’ve heard other women brag about the sex and how a-m-a-z-i-n-g it is, but since it never
happened to me like that, I used to think they just made it up. I mean, no man can be that good.
And then I met Daniel.
What’s more than that, I enjoy giving him pleasure. I positively fucking love to watch his massive
cock bounce up and down as I breathe on it or feel it swell in my hand to something so massive it couldn’t
possibly fit into me—and yet, it does.
“You ready, gorgeous, or have you grown roots in there?” Daniel calls to me, interrupting my
thoughts.
“Coming,” I call back as I grab the perfume bottle. No harm in using a little special scent to
bewitch the man.
I chuckle. So far, I haven’t needed to bewitch the man. He’s responding all on his own.
I mean, if our sexual compatibility was the only thing to worry about, I’d say we’re highly
compatible.
But there’s more to this than just having a fantastic fuck.
When I find him in his shorts, my gaze travels from his chest to his cock on instinct.
His whistle makes me look him in the eyes, and a warm glow envelopes me. It feels good to be
appreciated, even if it is from a man who only wants a purely transactional business relationship with me.
Well, it’s not all business, anyway. Stop thinking so much, Rose, and just get on with the day.
I take his outstretched hand. “So,” I begin, trying to sound nonchalant, “what’s on the agenda
today?”
“The beach.”
I nod and push any silly thoughts about my looks, the future, and any other shit out of my head. This
is supposed to be about getting to know each other before entering our bargain, and that’s what I should
focus on—getting to know Daniel.
When we get to the beach, I can’t believe my eyes. Two deck chairs have been set up for us, and in
between is a table with a silver bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne next to two long-
stemmed glasses.
Floating in the water just ahead of us is a jet ski. I’ve only ever seen those things zoom by and
never up close like this.
“Can we ride this thing? I ask, feeling like a little girl about to walk into a toy store to pick her
favorite toy.
Daniel nods. “If you want to.”
Do I want to? Of course I want to!
I’m no adrenaline junkie, but I do like the idea of traveling across the turquoise-colored water at
breakneck speed, the wind in my hair, and the saltwater invading my lungs and nostrils.
I was right not to put on makeup today.
I sit behind Daniel, even though he offered me the steering wheel. I enjoy resting my head on his
broad shoulders and wrapping my arms around his abdomen.
This is crazy awesome. So this is what you get to do if you have money.
Usually, I have to debate whether I can afford to treat myself to a trip to the hairdresser or wait for
a few days more to save money.
I would never be able to buy a jet ski, let alone be able to store it somewhere.
After we’ve ridden up and down the sea, Daniel takes me back to shore. Spontaneously, I jump off
and swim the last few meters. I love the feel of the cool water on my skin. I dive under to get my hair wet,
too.
When I walk out, my skin is prickling from the salt and cool air. I feel alive.
Daniel comes up beside me and holds my hand. I glance at him and briefly toy with running my
hand down his back, but I stop myself. It’s a bit exposed here.
Even though we’ve already indulged in some pretty public stuff already, I tell myself wryly.
“Champagne, my love?”
I nod and take the glass. I sip and drink, soaking up what’s on offer. Daniel, primarily.
When it’s time for lunch, we walk back to the resort. Along the way, Daniel goes to great lengths to
introduce to me some of his staff.
“Hey, George.” He waves to someone working the grounds. A great big straw hat covers the man’s
face. When he looks up, he smiles and waves.
Daniel takes me by the hand and leads me over.
“George, meet Rose.”
The older man takes his hat off and wipes the sweat from his face with the back of his hands.
“Nice to meet you, madam.”
I blush and stammer a thank you. No one has ever called me madam before I came to Daniel’s
resort.
The man smiles and turns to Daniel. “Nice day for the beach.”
They exchange a few more pleasantries before we walk on. A large lady pushing a heavy-looking
trolley comes down the pathway.
“Ah, Linda!” Daniel calls out. “Come meet Rose.”
Again, I shake hands with one of his staff. I am even more embarrassed when Linda does a little
curtsy.
When she’s gone, I turn to Daniel.
“You don’t have to introduce to me everyone, you know.” I feel a little out of my depth.
Daniel’s eyes have that special glint I already like about them.
“Of course I do. I’m sure you’ll be back, either as the mother of my child, or as a friend, at the very
least.”
He pauses and tucks a loose strand of wet hair behind my ear. “Let’s hope it’s the former.”
His staff has already prepared the most delicious lunch imaginable.
Daniel pulls out my chair at a small table on the restaurant’s veranda overlooking the beach.
I could get used to a view like this, no doubt.
 A tall, thin waiter comes to take our order.
“Could I have a lemon, lime and bitters, please?”
“Of course, madam,” he says with a slight bow. “And would you like a fresh lemon with that?”
I nod, feeling a lump form in the back of my throat. This entire experience is surreal, and I never
want it to end.
After lunch, I lean back in my chair and find Daniel staring at me. His lips are curled up into a
smile.
“I’m exhausted,” I confess.
He nods. “I know. Let’s go and get a massage.”
I stare at him. Where does he get the energy? “I don’t think I’m up for walking anywhere.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll get someone to come to our room.”
And sure enough, less than ten minutes later, I’m sitting on the deck chair on the balcony of our
room, someone massaging my feet.
On the little table to my right is a steaming mug of coffee and a small plate of a selection of
delicious chocolates.
I sigh.
“Something wrong?” Daniel says, looking concerned.
I shake my head. “No, not at all,” I reassure him quickly, wondering how to put what’s on my mind
into words.
“It’s just...” I start, then hesitate before deciding to bite the bullet. If this is about getting to know
each other, I have to learn to speak freely to him.
“I do enjoy all this.” I wave my arms around in an all-encompassing gesture. “But I’m a little
overwhelmed. I’m used to simpler things. Do you think we can do something a bit simpler?”
Instead of exploding in an angry tirade, Daniel smiles and nods eagerly, like it’s the best suggestion
he’s ever heard.
“Of course. Tomorrow. I promise, tomorrow we’ll do something normal.”
I smile, relieved and excited at the same time. I can’t wait to see what Daniel’s idea of normal is.
 Daniel


Okay, so I need to wrap my head around this concept of doing something simple. I’ve gone out of
my way to show this girl how the rich and famous lead their lives and she asks for this.
I scratch my head.
But, of course, I agreed to her request. I mean, what else could I do? I want to spoil this girl and
make each and every one of her dreams come true.
Her wish should be my command.
It’s easy for me. I’ve got the backing. She wants to look at the beach? No problem. I whisk her
away to one of my resorts and make sure she gets a view of the beach—her own private beach.
If she wants a ride on a helicopter, no worries. I can arrange anything money can buy.
Diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds are easy to purchase. Vacations to any destination can be
arranged, as can any mode of transportation―from expensive sports cars to a horse-drawn carriage, if
that’s what her heart desires.
Of course, a trip around the world or a visit to a five-star restaurant would all be a piece of cake.
And boy, have I dated some girls with demands. Actually, demands is probably the wrong word.
More like expectations.
Let me be the first to tell you, women have fucking high expectations of men, particularly men with
money.
About three girlfriends ago, I was asked if I could arrange a meet-and-greet with some famous
singer I had never even heard of.
When Rose asked me earlier today for a favor, I was expecting a list of requests from meeting
Hollywood superstars to buying her a diamond ring and a fucking Ferrari.
But Rose asked for nothing like that. She wants simple.
I can’t fucking believe I’m thinking this, but Rose is definitely the marrying kind. The kind who
takes joy in the simple, everyday things in life. The kind who wants a baby.
A family.
And I’m even more shocked to admit that I’m on the same fucking page.
I watch her as she’s curled up into a little ball, fast asleep. Her chest is rising and falling in a
steady rhythm.
She looks peaceful and happy. Maybe she’s dreaming about tomorrow already. If only I had a clue
what a simple day really means.
I don’t want to ask her. I don’t want her to think I’m a complete idiot who doesn’t know how to
treat a woman on a date. We’re supposed to be getting to know each other.
I sigh.
 I guess hiring a private yacht with a personal crew and chef to take us sailing wouldn’t be
classified as simple. It’s just a guess, but I think I’m fucking dead right about that one.
What about hiring a private guide to take us on a luxury cruiser—no, I’m pretty sure Rose would
not call that simple.
My head hurts from all the thinking I’m doing.
Rose mumbles something in her sleep. I can’t make out specific words, but I imagine she’s saying
my name and showering me with compliments.
I’m surprised at myself. I find it interesting that I will go to great lengths to impress this girl. I
mean, this is turning into hard fucking work.
And I’m completely game for it.
And I’m impressed Rose is asking me to tone things down. Human nature and my own experience
dictate that people want more.
Once the carrot of luxury and what money can do for you is dangled in front of someone’s nose,
their appetite is piqued, and they can’t get enough of what they once only dreamed of.
Clueless as to what ‘simple’ thing we can do tomorrow, I do the only thing anyone would do in my
situation. I consult Dr. Google. Sure enough, after I type in simple things to do on a date, it takes less than
two seconds for three hundred and fifteen billion results to appear.
I scroll through the results, scanning the headlines.
Fifty Fun Things to Do on a Budget
One Hundred and One Ideas to Do With Your Date if you Have no Money
Twenty-five Ways to Impress Your Date on a Shoestring Budget
I cringe at each and every one of those headlines. I don’t want to read about things to do with Rose
on a budget. There’s no budget to stick to. My budget is, well, it’s whatever I fucking want it to be.
But her words buzz around my head like bees in a bottle looking for the way out.
After taking a deep breath, I open one of the promoted websites.
The picture of a couple strolling along the beach, hand-in-hand, catches my eye. They look like
they’re walking into the sunset.
I scroll through the list of cheap things to do. The suggestions range from walking hand-in-hand to
browsing a second-hand bookstore or visiting an art gallery.
I can’t see how any of those things will appeal to Rose. They’re too simple.
With a sigh, I click onto another site.
Surprise, surprise. It’s another suggestion for walking along the beach holding hands, going on a
picnic. Visiting local bric-a-brac shops, making a fire outside and toasting marshmallows, and visiting a
park to feed the ducks. Fucking seriously?
I frown. Were these people for real? Who writes this shit? I want to spoil Rose and impress her, not
bore her to tears.
 The longer I search on the world-wide-web, the more confused I get. One thing’s for sure—the
most common piece of advice is that walking hand-in-hand on the beach thing―or anywhere for that
matter, as long as it’s fucking hand-in-hand.
I’m not convinced, but I vow to give it a go tomorrow. I promised we’d do something simple, and I
never renege on a promise.
The next morning, I’m prepared to put my research to the test. There’s something else I found out
about Rose when I did some online research on her after we first met.
“Morning, my beautiful Rose,” I greet her, holding a breakfast tray.
Rose yawns, stretches, and blinks a few times. Her nose wrinkles a little as she sniffs the air.
“Mmmm,” she begins, “what do I smell?”
“I’m glad you asked.” I put the tray down to show her what I prepared. “Black coffee, toast, and
sausage.”
I want to say, I hope this is simple enough for you, but I bite my tongue just in time.
Instead, I say, “I kind of did a little research on you and saw you like sausage.” I hesitate when I
feel those large cinnamon eyes on me. “I…um…I assume you like this kind of sausage,” I point to the
cooked sausage on the plate, “and not this one.” I point to my groin.
Rose bursts out laughing. It’s a belly laugh, the kind that has her doubled over, holding her
abdomen.
Hearing her laugh makes me feel good, makes me feel like I’ve achieved something.
There are tears streaming down her face, and she wipes them away.
“Oh, Daniel.” She’s trying to catch her breath. “What can I say?” She grins, and it’s a wicked one,
like a drink that I want to fucking drown in. “I like them both. But I like the sausage to eat, and yours…
well, you know where I like yours.”
A glow sparks in me and quickly grows into a flame.
We eat breakfast in bed and laugh and joke about all sorts of things.
“So, what are we going to do today?” When she’s finished eating, she curls up, cradling her cup of
coffee and staring at me expectantly.
For a few seconds, I’m so mesmerized by her that I forget what she asked.
“Um, yes. Today. I thought we’d do something simple before we head home in the late afternoon.” I
can’t understand why I’m suddenly acting like a fucking teenage boy who has never talked to a girl before.
“Sounds good.” Rose leans forward and gives me a little kiss on the nose. “I’ll go and freshen up.”
It’s a slow start to the day, which suits me. I’m still a little uncomfortable with this simple day
concept.
When Rose is finally ready to leave the room, we head outside. She looks at me expectantly.
I lace our fingers together, and I see her steal a glance at me.
With a deep breath, I take a step toward the beach.
 “I thought we’d simply go for a walk today. Look at the water, collect some shells and,” I hesitate,
“you never know, build a sand castle.”
With a confidence I don’t feel, I start to walk. To my surprise, she falls in step with me and grips
my hand a little tighter.
As we stroll along the edge of the water, me holding Rose’s hand, I catch her looking at me in
wonder from time to time, and it makes me feel like a million fucking dollars.
Looks like this simple thing isn’t so hard after all. And as we walk on the edge of the water, the
waves lapping at our feet, I think it’s actually not a bad way to spend a date.
I feel very proud of myself, like I really achieved something today. I have this insatiable desire to
prove to Rose that I can be anything she wants me to be.
I don’t understand it. I’ve never felt like this about any woman before, and I’m suddenly really
fucking glad I went into that tea shop…
 Rose


Some weeks go faster than others, and this week slots somewhere in the not-quite-fast-enough lane.
It’s a little bit difficult to concentrate on my work. My mind is on other things, and every time the
phone buzzes to let me know there’s a text message, I feel the need to look at it right away.
I devour each and every one of Daniel’s little messages.
When I read his latest text, I’m giddy with excitement. I feel like a little girl about to eat her first
candy.
It’s silly, really. Why should I be this thrilled he’s asking me on another date? I mean, we all know
this isn’t going to be love, but a business arrangement. But I can’t help my feelings.
It’s nice to know he’s still interested after last weekend.
So…I was just thinking…are you free this weekend?
I chew my bottom lip and stare at my computer screen. It’s blank, reminding me I’ve done almost no
work today.
Should I just reply with an Of course I’m free or does that make me look desperate? I don’t want to
look as desperate as I feel.
I could write back something a bit more cryptic maybe, string him along a little. Although I don’t
know how good it is to play this game of I’m busy, I need to check my schedule.
Jesus, life can be really hard sometimes. Where’s the user manual?
I mean, when you go and buy any kind of appliance, it always come with a manual. And any
furniture you purchase has instructions on how to put things together. Although some of those instructions
are not exactly clear either.
Briefly, I ponder what the manual of life would look like.
Chapter 1: How to Survive Being a Baby
No. I shake my head. You couldn’t start the manual to life at babyhood. I mean, babies can’t read.
All a baby can do is eat and scream and sleep.
And I’m desperate to have one.
Maybe chapter one starts with how to survive turning eighteen. Yes, that would be a good starting
point.
It could be given to you on your eighteenth birthday. Would it matter that you’d already committed a
whole lot of mistakes by then?
The second chapter would be about dating etiquette. And if everyone read the book, they would
know what to do.
Of course, I’m not really dating Daniel. It’s not like we met on an online dating service or at a club
and wanted to get to know each other.
 Quite the opposite. I don’t think he’s really looking for a relationship, and deep down, I’m not
either.
But as we both are acutely aware, the biological clock is ticking—more for me than for Daniel. I
mean, men can have babies at any old age.
I’m pretty sure I read about a guy who was something like eighty and had fathered triplets. Crazy, I
know.
My eyes go back to the text.
What did you have in mind?
I re-read the message and then delete it. No, it’s too…I don’t know, too something.
Where will you take me to this time?
I squint. It reads a little better.
I sigh.
Should I Google my response? Would I find the answer?
Without further thought or hesitation, I decide to press send. I’ve agonized over this little text for
long enough. And it’s not like I’m trying to come off any certain way because we’re going to be together in
any real sense of the word, right?
This is just a getting-to-know-you experiment to make sure we want to take this baby bargain all the
way.
Instantly, his reply comes back.
It’s a surprise xx
There are multiple emoji faces accompanying his words.
I chuckle. He’s speaking my language now.
In that case, I’ll check my schedule.
Of course, I don’t actually have to check my schedule. I mean, I’ve got nothing planned. It’s not like
I’ve got admirers beating down my door or engagements for the next six months.
On the contrary, my calendar looks rather sad and sorry with no special plans marked on it.
As I’m about to let Daniel know I’ve checked and I’m free, another message comes in.
What? So soon already?
When I open it, I realize it’s from Jenna.
Hey, babe, don’t forget Jayden’s big birthday party this weekend xox.
Damn. I nearly had forgotten. Well, truth be told, if she hadn’t just sent me a reminder, I would have
agreed to go away with Daniel.
So much for those plans. I’ve got to go the family event.
Back to Daniel’s message thread.
I would really love to see you this weekend, but sorry—no can do. I’ve got something planned
already.
 No sooner have I pressed send than the little device rings.
I look around. No one’s looking in my direction.
“Hello?” I keep my voice down so as not draw any attention to myself.
“I can’t believe you’re not free this weekend.” Daniel’s voice is not his usual bright one. In fact,
it’s a little flat.
I feel flattered and about as disappointed as Daniel sounds. But there’s nothing I’m able to do about
it. Family comes first.
What’s more, my life wouldn’t be worth living if I don’t go to Jayden’s birthday. Not only would
my parents give me a really hard time, I don’t think Jenna would ever speak to me again. The rest of my
family would be no better.
Best to just accept my fate for this weekend. Hopefully, there will be other ones to spend with
Daniel.
“What’s so important you can’t come away with me?” Daniel asks. “You’re not going out with
someone else, are you?”
I shake my head until I remember I’m on the phone.
“No,” I quickly reassure Daniel. I can’t believe he would even think that of me. Does he think I’m
fucking shopping around for baby juice or something? “Of course not.”
“What is it, then? You going to the hairdresser? Girls’ night out? What?”
Wow, I can’t believe he’s so upset. It makes me smile, in spite of myself.
“It’s my cousin Jenna. It’s her son, Jayden’s, birthday party. The whole family will be there. I’m
expected to go. I’m really sorry.”
And I mean it. I am sorry I won’t get to see him this weekend. Whatever his surprise is, I’m sure I
would have loved it.
Now he’s silent.
“You still there?” I ask, wondering if he just hung up on me.
“You know,” I hear him say slowly, and I stop daydreaming. I was wrong. He hasn’t hung up on me.
“It’s such a shame we won’t see each other. I was really looking forward to spending more time with you.
I totally respect that family comes first, though.” He pauses. “But you know I’m free this weekend…”
Is that some bait he’s throwing out? Should I take it?
Is he seriously suggesting I ask him to come to a family gathering, like meet my mom and dad?
Oh, my god. Now things are moving really fast. His statement can mean only one thing, right?
But if I bring him, then what? My thoughts tumble over each other. In my mind, I can already see my
cousins drooling over him, my mother planning the wedding, and Dad kidnapping him to check him out
properly.
I mean, the minute anyone other than Jenna gets wind of me allegedly dating, there’ll be cartwheels,
champagne corks popping, and talk of the dreaded W and B words.
 Is Daniel really ready to meet my family? I mean, we’ve not even agreed if this is going to work
and how it’s going to work.
What if, after meeting my family, he decides not to go ahead?
It’s a silly thought, but I can’t shake it. I mean, of course I love my family, I really do. But that
doesn’t mean others will feel the same way.
The way Dad can sometimes go on and on about a game.
And Mom, well, she’s just Mom, and she’ll offer him all kinds of food. And if he says no, she’ll try
something else because, you know if you’re not eating, there must be something wrong. The choices as far
as she’s concerned are either you’re sick or you don’t like her food.
Stop it, Rose. I need to stop this train of thought and make a damn decision already.
“Well…” I start and stop again. Wait and think about this, my inner voice screams, but I ignore it.
“If you think you’re up for it, why don’t you come?”
There, I’ve said it. I hold my breath as I wait for his response.
He’ll probably say no anyway. I mean, anyone in their right mind wouldn’t come to a family
gathering when he barely knows the girl.
It’s not like we’re actually dating. And this kind of thing implies very much that we are.
What if this scares him off? What if he wasn’t implying that he wanted me to invite him?
The seconds tick by. My ear is pressed hard against my phone as I try to hear what he’s going to
say.
It feels like he’s taking forever to reply. I’m beginning to wonder again if he hung up the damn
phone.
I suppose I really can’t blame him. I mean, the thought of meeting anyone’s family is pretty scary,
but meeting mine is particularly frightening. Everyone’s so intense, and there’ll be all this baby talk.
Never mind. Maybe the next weekend, I’ll be able to be whisked away by helicopter and be taken
to a romantic deserted island. I can picture the bleached fine sand, the aqua-blue ocean, a palm tree
swaying in the breeze, and the most luxurious beach house you could ever imagine.
“I’d love to,” replies Daniel, and I can feel my breath rush from my lungs as a warm glow spreads
through me, starting in my belly.
Wow. Okay, wow. So yeah, maybe it’s a good thing.
I mean, if we’re planning to like, have a baby together, maybe he wants to know more about my
family.
I push the thought aside. No, we haven’t decided anything. It’s too early; we’re still in the getting-
to-know-each-other phase.
But I can’t ignore the little glimmer of excitement that takes hold when I think about going to this
special event with Daniel.
Maybe it’s the next step. Maybe we’re making progress. Maybe this baby bargain is going to
happen after all.
 Daniel


The weekend seems to be approaching at a breakneck speed. Try as I might to stop it, I can’t. I
mean, one minute it’s Tuesday, and now it’s Friday, and I’m due to go to this big family gathering.
Sweat breaks out at the mere thought of what I’ve agreed to do.
When Rose said she couldn’t spend the weekend with me, it felt wrong. I wanted to know why and
move heaven and earth to have her with me. I thought she was going to say she was off to the spa or the
hairdresser.
I had no idea it was because of a family thing. What on earth possessed me to actually fish for an
invitation is now beyond me.
I guess I thought it was a good idea at the time. Now, upon reflection, I’m realizing it was a terrible
idea.
Going to the party means I’m going to meet the family. It’s not going to be a quiet family dinner with
Mom and Dad, oh no. I think Rose said the entire clan was going.
I lean back in my office chair and briefly close my eyes. I remember how just a few of them were at
the tea shop.
Can I renege on my promise to come? I mean, would it be really wrong to come up with an excuse
why I can’t do it?
Maybe I could feign illness? A serious bout of food poisoning due to something bad I ate?
I gnaw on my bottom lip. Mom has always been very strict about lying. She was against it for any
reason whatsoever, and she didn’t believe in sort-of-emergency lies either.
If I told her what I’d done, she’d tell me to just go and make the most of it.
Especially if she knew what I was really up to with Rose—working on getting an heir.
I grab my phone and shoot off a text to Rose.
Hey, gorgeous…special dress code for birthday party?
I’ve been texting Rose daily. I love the way she responds, her quirky humor, her interesting way of
using emojis, and the fact that so far, she’s not taken any offense at my twisted humor.
Not really…the theme is Cars.
I read the message and raise my eyebrows.
I thought it was a kid’s party…cars? Do they start driving younger these days?
Her reply is instantaneous.
The kids’ cartoon Cars. Have you seen it? You’d love it.
I scratch the back of my head. A kids’ flick called Cars. I better Google it before this party so I
appear knowledgeable on the topic of kids’ movies.
Okay…kid film called Cars…got it…anything else I need to know?
 A smiley face comes back.
I guess that means no. Butterflies, or maybe fucking spiders, multiply in the pit of my stomach.
D-day is nearly here. Of course it’s not really D-day, but it fucking feels like it. And of course it
should be called MP day: meet the parents. Or in this case, MF: meet the family.
I sigh and actually search info about this Cars film. I watch the shorts and decide I like the tow
truck, Mater.
Later, I receive a text from Rose with directions to her parents’ house.
You sure we can’t go together? Another emoji face sent with a gentle effect.
I’ve got to help set up and stuff so I’ll be getting there a lot earlier. Don’t stress. I’ll meet you
outside, comes her reply.
I don’t feel any more reassured, but I guess it is what it is. Rose has made up her mind, and I’ll
have to accept it.
Finally, when the day is here, I arrive at her parents’ house with sweaty palms and a wildly beating
heart. The last time I felt this way was during my school days when I’d be called to the principal’s office.
Not that this happened often. But when it did, my palms were sweaty, and my heart raced in my
chest. Maybe my knees were wobbly as well.
I’ve never in my whole fucking life felt this nervous about something involving a girl. What does
that even mean? It’s not like Rose and I are actually dating.
And then something fucking weird happens. The mere thought of that causes my chest to contract.
What the hell is that about?
Rose comes out and greets me. I react on instinct and pull her toward me and kiss her with all the
need I’ve been holding back since I last saw her. She responds immediately.
Yeah, this doesn’t feel like a business deal. Not at fucking all.
When I hear a clearing of the throat, I pull away from her and look at someone hovering near the
front door.
Spies.
“Come on in and meet everyone.”
With lead-filled feet, I follow.
“Don’t worry,” whispers Rose next to me. “You’re not about to face a fearsome fire-breathing
dragon. It’s only my family.”
I force a smile to my face and feel her hand squeeze mine.
“If you put it like that, I’ve got nothing to worry about.” I try and sound lighthearted. “I was looking
forward to meeting the dragon, though. I mean, how often do you get to meet one of those creatures?”
She giggles.
At the door are two older-looking people standing side by side.
The woman looks a little like Rose. Okay, so Rose looks a little like the woman. And I think I can
see her eyes in the father.
“Mom, Dad.” We stop in front of them. “This is Daniel.”
Rose’s mom takes me into her arms and gives me a hug. There are hints of cinnamon, apple, and
flour on her top. Maybe she’s been baking.
“Hi,” I say, trying not to sound too stiff, but I feel awkward as fuck—something I’m not used to in
the slightest.
“I’m Dorothy.” She smiles at me, and I feel my muscles relax, but only a bit.
Rose’s dad reaches out and shakes my hand.
“Nice to meet one of Rose’s fellas,” he says and then stops. “Oh, I mean―shit. That didn’t come
out right. Um, I’m Arthur.”
Rose stiffens. “Dad.” I can tell she’s trying to sound calm. Now it’s my turn to squeeze her hand.
I know what she’s trying to say, but I think I also know what her father was trying to say.
Rose’s mom rescues the situation. “Come along, dears, and meet the rest of them. If we stay out
here for too long, they’ll come looking.”
A young girl whizzes past in some vehicle-looking thing. She stops long enough to say hi, grab her
presents from our hands, and disappear again.
“Kids,” Rose says and shrugs.
“Hello again.” Jenna comes over to greet us both. “So, has she paid you or are you coming on your
own free will?”
Rose slaps her cousin on the shoulder, but I laugh.
“Maybe it’s a bit of both,” I joke, and Jenna laughs.
She turns to Rose. “He’s not bad, you know.”
I see Rose’s cheeks go red. Slowly, we inch forward. I think we’ve managed to get from the front
door to main living area of house and are heading to the back garden, the place where it’s all happening.
Introductions go on and on and fucking on. The names wash over me, and I forget them as soon as
I’m told who is who.
There are so many people here. Rose said she was from a big family, but this is fucking huge. It
makes my own crazy blended family pale in comparison.
Rose is holding my hand as we walk from group to group, say hello here, ask how they are there,
and generally try to chat to everyone at the party.
In the garden, I see giant replicas of the movie, and I pause at Mater, insisting I need to get a photo
with the tow truck.
At some point in time, I start to relax, probably helped along by the alcohol.
I speak to Jayden, exchanging info on who her favorite character is. I think I’m doing okay because
I picked the tow truck and not one of the new racecars.
Rose hands me another drink. We smile at each other. So far, so good.
 I have to admit, her family has been very welcoming and has embraced me wholeheartedly.
The evening sky is displaying its magnificent colors as the sun sets. Soon, the backyard will be
bathed in moonlight.
I wrap my arm around Rose and pull her close to me. It feels right. Fucking perfect, actually.
Like I could be part of this woman’s life forever. Part of her family.
It’s a crazy thought. Maybe it’s the alcohol, too. Maybe I need to get out of this romantic setting in
the garden.
I lean toward her. “Do you want to go inside?”
Rose nods and takes me by the hand.
As I try to follow, I trip over something. But my eyes don’t focus properly, so I can’t see what’s in
my way.
The world is spinning, and I feel Rose put her hand out to steady me.
Maybe I shouldn’t have had that third or fourth glass of champagne—or was it five?—or the
cocktail someone handed me in a tall thin glass.
Rose takes the glass I’m carrying and puts it on top of something.
“I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight,” she says. And as she looks at me, I think I can see a
little frown.
God, she looks hot and sexy. My cock in my pants stirs, and I want to jump her bones right fucking
now.
I grab her and pull her toward me.
My mouth crushes down on hers. I want to kiss her—no, I want to do a whole lot more than kiss
her.
I’m horny as fuck. I need to take her—like now.
I push my hips forward so she can feel the massive and still growing bulge in my pants. Rose
responds with a low moan.
Our lips lock together, and the world spins around me. Her lips are so soft as they melt into mine.
My tongue pushes past her teeth and explores the sweetness of her mouth.
At the same time, my hands grope for her magnificent tits. I can feel her nipples harden even
through the material.
Somewhere nearby, a door opens and closes.
Rose stiffens a little. I pull away from her. My breath is coming short and shallow.
“Where’s your room?” I whisper.
 Rose


The second his lips are on mine, I feel my knees go all jelly-like. And when his hand then finds my
breasts, oh god, I think my common sense takes a leave of absence.
All I can think about is his massive cock in me, and maybe even—no, we haven’t agreed to
anything yet.
Stop thinking, I tell myself and try to rally my thoughts.
In the dim darkness of my now empty brain, I take note of a door opening and closing again. Should
I worry?
Where were we again?
Thoughts are trying to push through the fog of desire, lust, and animalistic passion, which have
taken up residence in my head, but it’s no use.
“Rose,” Daniel whispers into my ear, and his warm breath sends little shivers all through my body.
Birthday. Party. House.
Random words poke in and out of my mind.
By now, one of his hands is under my skirt. I can feel his index finger pressing against my clit.
“Oh, Daniel,” I moan and let my hands run down his back. My hips press forward into him.
I shift my weight a little and knock into something in the process. The resulting smash and liquid on
my legs interrupts what we’re doing.
“Shit,” I mumble and peel myself off Daniel.
The glass I’ve taken out of his hands only minutes before seems to have fallen off the little table I
put it on and smashed into millions of pieces.
“I better get this.”
I run my hand through my hair and head into the kitchen. Flames flicker in me, and it’s difficult to
concentrate.
I see him standing there.
On my hands and knees, I’m level with his cock. I lick my lips. Almost of their own accord, my
knees scoot forward a little so I’m within tongue’s reach of his delicious cock. If I then unzip his pants…
Ouch.
I think my bare skin found glass. The pain momentarily distracts me.
With a sigh, I start sweeping up the broken glass. In the sparse light, it’s difficult to see if I’ve got
all of it, but I decide it will have to do.
Quickly, I take dustpan, broom, and broken glass into the kitchen. I hear Daniel follow me. I don’t
turn on the light.
Moonlight filters in through the kitchen window. The big outside lanterns also seep in.
 Slowly, I turn toward Daniel, who’s standing so close behind me I can feel his breath on my neck.
For a second, we stare at each other. Each and every fiber in my being is lusting after this man.
I want to feel his fingers in me. I want to feel his cock in me. I want to ride it, and I want to stop
thinking.
He’s coming toward me.
“Now, where were we?”
Before I can respond, his strong hands grab me and pull me into him.
Again, his mouth forces itself onto mine. He demands entry, and I strain toward him. My hands find
his neck and hair.
I pull him closer to me. As his hips press into me, I can feel his magnificent cock straining to break
through his pants. My right hand drops, and I place it over the bulge. Even through the material, I can feel
him pulsing.
“We should…” I try to pull away from him. But he doesn’t let me go.
“You’re right,” he murmurs into my hair. His fingers have found my pussy again.
My back’s pushed against the kitchen counter. I’m arching my lower back, and my head’s touching
the shelving.
The man really knows how to push my buttons. Right now, his finger is gently pushing all the way
into my already dripping pussy before he pulls it out again ever so slowly.
Then he holds his wet finger in front of his face and licks it. The action is full of eroticism. I feel a
shiver run through me.
In my hand, his cock is about to explode.
“I think we should make a drink and put some of these juices to use.” Daniel grins.
My own eyes widen.
It was fun and games to kiss and fool around, but we can’t have full-on sex in the kitchen of my
parents’ house.
Panic rises in me. The door opens again; someone calls someone’s name. I hold my breath, and the
door slams shut again.
“Relax, kitten.” Daniel’s eyes glint in the dim light. “How about a virgin margarita with a special
touch?”
Am I hearing him right? Before I can respond, Daniel moves about the kitchen. It seems to take him
less than a minute to return to where I’m still standing with the ingredients for a cocktail.
With one hand, he mixes, and with the other he goes back to taking care of my pussy. At first, I’m a
little distracted by the blender, but when his finger is all the way in my pussy and he curls it up to rub
against my sweet spot, any last hesitation goes out the window.
“Oh, Daniel,” I moan and open his trousers.
With his cocktail obviously done, he uses his other hand now to open my top and expose my
breasts. As he frees them from their prison, they bounce up and down a little in anticipation of being
touched.
But Daniel doesn’t use his free hand to torture my nipples with pinching and pulling. He takes an
ice cube and rolls it around my nipple and fleshy breast.
The icy sensation sends flames of fire ripping through me. Oh god, I would never have thought such
a simple thing could have such a powerful reaction.
I push my chest toward him.
At the same time, his finger is moving in and out of my pussy. His thumb is pushing against my clit,
rubbing a little from side to side.
There’s another noise—footsteps. I tense a little, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m totally paralyzed
with pleasure. It seems as if they’re getting louder. And then just as I fear they’re coming into the kitchen,
they turn away.
My heart is beating wildly in my chest. The feeling of being discovered any second in my mom’s
kitchen with my breasts exposed and Daniel’s finger in my pussy seems to only heighten my pleasure.
Slowly, the world is losing focus around me as my head is filled with clouded lust.
I barely register Daniel dipping his finger into the icy margarita mixture and dripping some onto my
very hard nipples. When he lowers his mouth over them to suck off the delicious drink, I think I might
actually pass out.
Trying not to scream out loud in pleasure and have the whole family come running, I squeeze his
dick a little harder. In response, I feel his teeth bite harder on my nipples.
Then he pulls away again to drip more of the cocktail on me.
He repeats this a few times, and the way my body is shivering, I know it won’t be long before I
come.
It feels a little wild and crazy, and I try not to think about the fact this is the place where for many,
many years I used to watch Mom cook. Did she and Dad ever—
Oh my god, no, stop. I don’t even want to think about my parents having sex.
Eww.
Daniel has increased his intensity with his fingers. I think he may even have two or three pushing
into me as hard and fast as he can.
My own hand is trying very hard to rub and squeeze his massive cock and balls. I roll them through
my hands and knead them like dough.
When I come suddenly, I come with an almighty spasm. The walls of my pussy grab onto Daniel’s
fingers and don’t want to let them go. Explosions and fireworks rip through me, and for a while, I feel as
if I’m floating on clouds.
My breathing is short and shallow.
Eventually, Daniel pulls out his fingers. They’re covered in my juices.
 Mesmerized, I watch him take one of the glasses he got ready before and smear my cum around the
rim of the glass.
He repeats this with the other glass before pouring his cocktail into them.
With glowing eyes, he hands me one of the glasses.
“Cheers.” He smirks and takes a drink.
I follow. For the first time ever, I taste my own juices mixed in with the delicious flavor of a
margarita.
“Now then.” He leans into me again. “Where did you say your bedroom is?”
Like a giggling teenager, I grab his hand and pull him out of the kitchen. I don’t bother to do up my
top—any second I’ll rip it off anyway.
When I close the bedroom door and lock it for good measure, it’s Daniel who does the ripping—
first his own shirt and then mine.
 Daniel


I rip my own shirt off and then Rose’s. For a few seconds, I feast my eyes on those fleshy tits. They
bounce up and down a little as she’s wrestling with her skirt.
Her perky pink nipples jut out, daring me to suck on them. I lean forward and oblige. I kiss each of
them before I return to the task of undressing.
Before I get out of my pants, I reach into the pocket and grab my condom. There’s a little bedside
table near her bed, and I put it there.
Before I slip it on, I want to make the most of those hands of hers.
Of course, I know I’ll need to slip that bit of latex over my dick sooner rather than later―otherwise
it will be one huge, massive disaster―but I’m not quite ready.
There’s something about those hands of Rose’s. They’re velvety, sensual, strong, and just amazing.
If I didn’t have this problem—no. I stop myself thinking about it. There’s no point anyway.
I feel Rose’s hands wrap around my cock and squeeze. Then she opens up and lets her fingers move
up and down my shaft as if she’s practicing the scales on the piano.
It sends fireworks exploding in my balls and abdomen. My brain has long stopped working and has
gone on extended leave.
If I was right now asked to do even the simplest of tasks, like add up two plus two, I couldn’t. I’m
lucky to be remembering my own name right now.
I run my hands through her hair. It’s falling loosely over her shoulders, and I love the feel of it as it
runs through my fingers.
We’re just inside the room Rose has pulled me into. I’m not sure about the last time she’s been
home or if she visits her parents often, but from what I can see, this is Rose’s space.
The bed is covered with a bedspread of light purple with pink roses all over it. Large frilly
matching cushions decorate the head of the bed.
The bedside table has a simple, small light on it. There are no teddy bears from what I can see,
although I wouldn’t be surprised to see one.
I know girls love stuffed teddies. I never understood why.
I push Rose back against the door. My mouth presses onto hers, hard. I want to devour her.
She has this delicious scent about her; it’s not the overwhelming expensive perfume other women
use. No. It’s sweet—but not too sweet—sensual, and intoxicating.
I wonder if she’s aware of its effect and uses it for that reason?
My tongue is in her mouth, practically trying to grab her tonsils, and my fingers are toying with her
nipples.
I can feel her push her hips forward and into mine. Her pussy is searching for my magic wand.
 But before I can enter her, I need to get my condom. All in good time, I think to myself and use my
right hand to lift one of her legs and drape it over my hip. She gets the idea and hooks it behind my back.
Now her pussy is really exposed and open. My hand presses against it.
At the same time, my hips push into her so the length of my cock is against her skin. I feel her shiver
with pleasure beneath me.
I leave my hand where it is and press into her.
She makes some fucking sexy sound, but it’s muffled with my mouth still over hers.
Time seems to slow down, and I want to make the most of this magic moment. I feel droplets of
precum on the tip of my dick.
I push harder against her. I want to try and feel her skin for as long as I can before I hide my cock in
the condom.
Briefly, I toy with trying to fuck her without a condom.
I mean, I’m so close. We’re here in the perfect position. Why not just see if I can glide in and find
out what happens and just go for it?
But we haven’t settled our deal. We haven’t officially agreed to this baby bargain.
Since I don’t know how much longer I can do this, I take her other leg and also hook it around my
back.
Now I carry her over to the bed. As I walk, I suck on those gorgeous tits of hers. They’re now just
at the right height.
At first, Rose looks at me a little confused. But when my lips wrap around her nipples, she pushes
her naked body hard into me.
I gently lower her onto the bed and grab my condom.
“Um…” Rose looks confused.
“Won’t take long,” I reassure her and open up the packet.
“Do you always…” she starts and stops. “I mean, do you always use one? And how about…”
Before she can finish the question—a question I don’t really want to answer right now—I’ve got
my cock covered and turn toward her. Instead of responding, I spread her legs and bury my nose into her
pussy.
I lift her legs as I do so. This way, her ass comes off the bed a little and my hands make a bid for
both cheeks.
As my tongue darts in and out of her soaked pussy, I knead and squeeze her ass. Meanwhile, my
cock’s throbbing and demanding a piece of the action.
I pull out of her and position myself so my dick is right at her opening.
“Please, Daniel,” she mumbles, and I don’t need further invitation. Slowly, I slide my cock into her.
She’s tight, as always, but accommodates my massive girth. I grab her hips and pull her toward me
as I push deep inside her.
 “Yessss,” she hisses, and I can already feel the walls of her pussy contract.
To make the most of this, I start off slow and steady. I pull out and then gently push back in.
Rose has other ideas. She tries to get me to speed up.
“Come on, Daniel,” she begs, “faster, harder.”
With her legs still draped over my shoulders, I lean forward and push deeper into her.
“Your wish is my command,” I whisper, and then I let loose. I start pistoning into her like a fucking
V-8 engine.
She meets each of my thrusts with a little upward push of her own.
I watch her tits bounce from side to side.
I let go with one hand of her ass and reach for the delicacies. As soon as I pinch her right nipple,
she lets out a high-pitched squeal.
Her pussy is grabbing my cock so hard I fear she might strangle it. It’s as if she’s trying to fucking
milk me of all I’m worth.
With a flame flickering in my abdomen and spreading at phenomenal speed, I can feel myself
building up to a huge orgasm. It won’t be long before I come.
Beneath me, Rose’s body is tensing and shaking. With each thrust, my cock’s expanding and
stretching her pussy.
“I…not…long,” moans Rose, and I can feel her orgasm explode inside her. Her muscles contract,
and then she comes—really fucking hard.
A few seconds later, I release outrageous amounts of cum, and I can feel the condom fill to almost
overflowing. A combination of heat and molten lava spreads through me.
As wave after wave of pleasure invades each and every part of my body, I stay deep inside her and
wait for the pulsing of my cock to subside.
When I finally collapse on top of her, my cock’s still in her. I stay like this for what seems like
forever.
I rest my head on her chest, between her tits, and revel in the afterglow. Her fingers run through my
hair. Beneath me, I can hear her wildly beating heart.
It feels satisfying to know how much pleasure I just brought to her.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she whispers as I pull out of her.
I roll onto my side next to her and let my finger trace little circles around her breast.
“Remind me what the question was,” I say playfully and smile. Of course, I really do know what
the question is, but I don’t want to talk about it now.
I know I’ll have to discuss it with her sooner rather than later, but I’d rather it’d be later.
Rose smiles.
“I think you’re trying to distract me,” she replies, and I raise an eyebrow in innocent protest.
“Distract you from what?” My other hand is on her ass.
 She has a fucking great ass—soft and fleshy. I can’t get enough of it. Just thinking about her ass has
my cock stirring again.
Instead of a reply, Rose rolls onto her side, giving me better access to that most delicious body part
of hers.
Fuck. Yes.
I waste no time.
 Rose


I watch him peel off the condom and furrow my brows. I mean, it shouldn’t be a problem because
we haven’t agreed to anything yet, but it’s odd he’s always got one of those things with him and uses it.
I mean, we’ve had sex several times. That hardly qualifies me as an expert on his habits.
It’s difficult to think when his hands are on my ass. I can hardly believe my pussy is already
begging for more. He really stretched me before, and yet I crave more.
So much more.
He rolls me onto my stomach, and for a while, I just lie there and relax into his hands. I can even
feel the tip of his cock push against my ass.
Would he, I wonder―but stop myself thinking further along this line.
I mean, maybe he’s out of condoms. How many of those things does he carry with him?
I sigh and push those thoughts aside. Right now, it doesn’t really matter, does it? I mean, we haven’t
agreed on this whole baby bargain thing yet, anyway.
But I sure hope he understands he’ll have to ditch the latex for me to get pregnant.
Oh, stop worrying, Rose. Daniel’s a man of the world and understands the principle behind the
birds and the bees.
I tell myself to stay with him and enjoy the ride. Maybe he just wants to be sure about our deal
before we take any chances. And really, he’s probably just looking after me, because I barely know him.
I feel his fingers scoop up my own juices and smear them over my ass cheeks. The sticky liquid
feels good on my hot body. Catlike, I stretch and lift my upper body off the bed.
I glance back at him, and to my surprise he’s rock-hard again. He’s got his long, thick cock pointing
right at my ass. There’s no rubber. Hmm.
Before I can complete the thought, I feel the tip of him push into my most private hole.
I suck in my breath. I’ve never let a man go there before. I feel like it should hurt, but my body
pushes against him of its own will to meet his juicy, meaty member. I want this.
His hands are on my pelvis, fingers digging into my flesh. I’m up on all fours now and can’t help
but squeal a little as he pushes deeper into me.
I fucking love how he feels invading my body like this. I want more.
I throw my head back and arch my lower back. I don’t know how much more of him I can take, but I
want it all.
Just then, I feel his balls slap against my ass.
He thrusts in and out of me slowly, and I meet him on each thrust. I’m surprised at my own body and
at the delight it’s experiencing at this amazing new sensation of being fucked in my tight little hole.
I can’t believe I’m enjoying this so much. If one of my ex-boyfriends had tried to do this to me, I
doubt I would have agreed.
But there’s something persuasive about Daniel. I want him in every way.
It becomes difficult to continue any coherent thoughts. Wave after wave of pleasure races through
me, a bit like how the waves lap on to the beach in a never-ending, continuous pattern.
I’m not sure how much pleasure I can stand before I lose my mind. The other day, I overhead
someone say, I want to fuck her stupid, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that could happen. Could I go
mad from too much pleasure and sex?
It sounds silly, but right now, I believe it might happen. The world seems to be going out of focus,
and my body feels filled with a sticky, sweet substance.
I’ve got no control over my limbs. Not that I could go anywhere anyway with Daniel’s huge cock
inside my hole.
Suddenly and without warning, he increases his pace. He’s going from adagio to allegro. Soon, all I
can hear is the sound of his balls slapping against my flesh as he thrusts into me.
Briefly, I wonder what he’s up to next. Is he going to come inside me? Then, without warning, his
hands leave my hips and find my bouncing breasts.
He cups and kneads and squeezes them.
“Oh, Daniel…pleaseeee…” I’m not really quite sure what I’m begging him to do. My body is up in
flames, and I think any second I’ll pass out from pleasure.
His cock seems to be growing with each thrust and stretching me more and more, filling me fuller
than ever before.
Oh, Daniel, I think this time, because my voice fails me.
As if reading my mind, which I myself am unable to do, I feel one of his hands leave my breast and
push against my pussy. Shock waves pulse through me.
I’m not sure how he manages to pummel harder and faster into me and at the same time use his long,
skilled fingers on my pussy.
The initial pressure of his hand turns to a push against my clit with his index finger. He circles it
and then ever so gently moves from side to side. The small movements have huge effects on me. An
avalanche of emotions.
Fireworks explode in my lower abdomen and my insides feel as if they’re on fire. A volcano erupts
and spreads hot molten lava to each and every one of my pores.
If he keeps this going, it won’t be long before I’m going to erupt in a giant orgasm. I fear when that
happens, I might just go up in a puff of smoke.
Of course, I know this won’t happen, but that’s what it feels like. I mean, I have never in my life
read in the news about any disaster like going up in smoke during the act of sex. Who knows? This could
be the first one.
Now here’s a strange turn of phrase if ever I heard one—act of sex. Sex isn’t an act, it’s so much
more. At least with Daniel.
Sex is, well, I don’t know, just about the best fucking thing ever.
But then again, it’s only become the best thing ever since I’ve been having sex with Daniel. Before,
I guess it was pretty ordinary. It was only an act.
I sigh.
I’m thinking too much and not living in the moment and enjoying what the man is doing with my
body.
The intensity is building, and I think I can feel him building up to his own orgasm. I bet it won’t be
long before he’s going to shoot his load everywhere.
But I’m stopped from any further thoughts when my pussy pulses and clenches in a fucking massive
orgasm. It grabs at the fingers inside of it, and just then I feel him stiffen, slowing down a little, before
pushing into me deep and hard. There’s so much intensity in his thrusts that he unbalances me a little and
my elbows buckle.
Then I feel it. He totally unloads inside of me. Jet after hot jet of cum fills my ass, spilling out and
trickling down my thighs, and I shiver and shake and ride my wave of pleasure.
It’s fucking amazing to feel him cum inside of me, and I smile as I feel myself overflow with his
sticky cream.
There you go. If he can come in my hole, I’m sure he’ll be able to come in my pussy when the
time’s right.
After all, there’s no hurry. I don’t know what I was even worried about. It was crazy, really.
When each and every last drop is poured out inside of me, Daniel pulls out. He collapses on the
bed next me.
I lie on my side and stroke his cock, covered in juices. It feels so delicious. I want to just suck on it
and lick and reward it.
So without further thought or invitation from Daniel, I slide down and let my tongue get to work. I
wrap it around his tip and then kiss the top of it gently. My hands grab his balls and roll them from side to
side.
I feel his long thick shaft come back to life pretty quickly, with my tongue licking and caressing it.
After a while, I wrap my lips over it and suck part of him into me. I go about halfway down and
suck on his dick like candy. My eyes meet his, and I can see him moan with pleasure.
“Fuck, Rose, you’re fucking perfect.”
If there’s one thing I like to do, it’s to reciprocate in the pleasure department. And so I suck and lick
and squeeze.
But I want more, and so I take all of him in my mouth. At first, I’m not sure how far I’m going to go,
but I don’t need to worry. It seems natural to take him right into me, all the way down my throat.
There’s no gag reflex. On the contrary, I hungrily suck on his huge bit of meat. I bob on him up and
down and revel in the knowledge I’m making him grow and thicken with each suck.
It doesn’t take long before Daniel’s hands reach up and grab my head. He’s forcing himself even
deeper into me, and I happily oblige.
When his muscles start to tighten and his cock pulses, I know he’s about to come again. I get ready
to try and swallow his load.
Five, four, three, two…and here it comes.
Fountain-like, he erupts in my mouth, and I do my best to swallow every last drop. I feel a bit of it
dribble down my chin.
When he stops unloading his cum into me, he pulls out of my mouth. With a grin on my face, I glide
back up and kiss him.
He returns my kiss, and I nuzzle into his chest.
It feels amazing here in my bed with him. I feel happy. No, I feel ecstatic and on top of the world.
I know for sure now. I want to have this man’s baby.
The deal is on.
 Daniel


The buzz is gone now, but after sex, I still have the same lingering apprehension that fights me in my
head and lurks there like a fucking time bomb.
I saw it. I didn’t fucking imagine it.
I saw the way Rose quizzically glanced at me when I pulled the condom from my pocket.
If I’d gone against my gut feeling and addressed the issue, the moment would surely have been
ruined, and instead of helping Rose put on her shirt right now, I’d be alone here for certain.
“Thanks for making me look presentable again,” Rose laughs as I zip up my pants.
“You never stopped being presentable,” I tease and get a blush from Rose in response.
The adrenaline rush of sex still flushes my cheeks, and my heart is pounding. Walking to the
bathroom, I take one look at myself in the mirror and realize that the awkwardness of the condom moment
is not going to flee from my mind without a fight.
Turning around, I see Rose brushing her hair with a vacant expression on her face.
“Rose?” I call out to her.
“Hmm?” she asks with a satisfied sigh.
“Do you want me to go now?” I swallow hard, hoping the awkwardness is all in my own head.
Rose immediately shakes her head, giving some reassurance to my troubled thoughts. She gives me
a funny look, as if she’s trying to analyze what I’m thinking and get inside my mind.
“Do you want to go?” Rose asks, furrowing her brows.
I slowly approach her as if she’s a lion in a cage because I don’t want to set her off-balance more
than she already appears to be.
When I’m only inches away, I place a hand on her arms and give them a gentle squeeze of affection.
“Do you want to go with me, or are you going to stay?” I whisper, casting my eyes down at her
gorgeous face.
Rose seems to be contemplating her answer, formulating it in her mind. I watch her as her features
move with her conflicting emotions.
“I’ll just let everyone know that we’re going.”
She shrugs with ease, and I struggle to discern what will happen next.
My first reaction is to heave a sigh of relief. It’s clear as glass that Rose is suspicious of something,
and the little condom problem I have might place a wedge between us unless I find a savvy way to figure
this shit out.
But we also just had some of the most amazing sex of my life, and I think she feels the same way.
There’s a connection there between us. Something real that has nothing to do with babies or heirs or
fucking condoms.
 I’m not going to lie, I’m scared shitless that when time comes, when we make this deal, I may not
be able to deliver.
I usually wouldn’t give a fuck. I’m not the relationship kind of guy. Or at least I wasn’t.
But no, I’m not sure where the fuck my head’s at. Rose has this intense effect on me, and I’m losing
control fast.
I bite my lip and cast my eyes to the floor, not wanting to look Rose in the eye right now. If I do that,
all my secrets might be revealed.
Wait a minute…isn’t honesty always the best policy? Or do you sometimes run the risk of hurting
the ones you care about the most that way?
I run my hands through my hair and pace while Rose goes to say her goodbyes. Looking out the
window, the darkness mirrors the way I feel inside. I’m not in a panic yet, but I suppose I need to tell
Rose now before everything blows up in my face.
Everything could go wrong if I’m elusive. Like the night sky outside the window reflecting back to
me, it’s not fair for me to leave Rose in the dark regarding something of such importance. Not with what
she really wants out of me.
She comes back in just a few minutes.
“I think I spoke to everyone, and we can sneak out of here without doing the walk of shame,” she
says with a laugh.
We walk out of the bedroom, and her relatives bombard us as soon as we appear. Well, so much for
that.
Rose looks like a deer in headlights. I can’t deal with this shit right now, but I know I have no other
choice but to take one for the team.
Her tipsy uncle with the receding hairline approaches me and points a finger directly in my face,
reeking of booze.
One of her female cousins whistles and claps, teasing us and asking us where we’ve been. Rose
turns beet red and, honestly, I feel incredibly sorry for her in this moment.
Who knew a birthday party could turn into such a spectacle and fiasco?
The drunken uncle takes wobbly steps around me. I have two choices here. I can either blow it off,
take it all in stride, and appease Rose, or I can punch the guy in the face and run out the door before I’m
kicked out.
Obviously, the latter choice is a bit of an overkill, so I decide to take a deep breath and give the
uncle a polite smile through my clenched teeth.
That’s when Rose’s father approaches and pats me on the back, as if to say, Way to go, son.
What. The. Fuck.
As if this moment can’t get any more embarrassing.
I shoot a glance at Rose, who looks absolutely mortified, but her cousins are all doting on her and
playing with her hair as they whisper and cluck back and forth with Rose in the center.
“You’re going to treat this one right, aren’t you, boy?” The balding uncle is making the accusatory
statement, trying to afflict me with some sort of emotional damage or some shit.
“Absolutely, sir,” I respond affirmatively, but holy fucking hell is this awkward.
No matter, though. I’m not looking at the uncle, I don’t give a flying fuck what his drunk ass thinks.
I’m caught up in staring at the beauty and splendor of Rose.
“That’s great to hear,” Rose’s father gives me another unwanted slap on the back, but I smile at him
with attempted enthusiasm.
“Thank you, sir,” I say and shove my hands in my pockets because I don’t know what the fuck else
to do with them at the moment. This is probably the most uncomfortable moment of my life.
“Can I get your guarantee?” The obnoxious uncle just won’t fucking quit.
“Let me guess, I need your seal of approval?” I attempt a joke, and it goes off with flying colors as
the drunk men roar with laughter.
I sneak another glance at Rose, who’s wincing but seems to be relaxing somewhat the longer we
stand here and endure this shit.
Rose’s dad is getting ready to speak up again, his mouth hanging open mid-breath, but Rose
interjects, stepping in front of him.
“Okay, Dad,” she says, acting as a moderator, gently pushing her father back a few strides. “That’s
enough.”
“Hey, come on,” her father teases. “We’re just having a little fun with your new friend. It’s a rite of
passage, you know.”
Rose rolls her eyes and doesn’t take her father’s bait. “Now you know why I never bring
boyfriends home,” she says with exasperation and takes my hand as we move to the front door.
“Goodbye, everyone.” She does a slight curtsy and waves her hand through the air as we make our
way out the door.
“Okay, so I guess we’re going now.” I grin at her.
After I help her climb into the passenger seat, I pull out of the driveway.
“Well, that was brutal.” I’m aiming for a lighthearted conversation, but when I glance over at Rose,
she’s staring out at the world as it whizzes past us. I’m not even sure she realizes I’m speaking to her.
“Hey, at least we got to have some play time in your room upstairs.” I chuckle again and rub her
thigh, but she subtly retreats, moving her leg closer to the car door and further away from my touch.
Rose sighs, as if she’s deep in thought, and reclines in her chair, so I allow her to be consumed by
her mind, unbothered.
I’m tired from that whirlwind of a night and from having to deal with overbearing relatives that I
don’t know―but I’m grateful for the quality time with Rose, at least.
The freeway is never ending, and I don’t think I’ll ever reach my destination with Rose if I don’t
come clean about the condom thing. It’s like a fucking albatross around my neck. I know I have to tell her,
especially if she’s starting to feel anything at all for me, like I am for her.
Hell, even if she’s not, she needs to know I can hold up my end of the deal.
I mean, there’s obviously something bothering her. Maybe it has nothing to do with me. Maybe it’s
her family.
I don’t know, but I just wish she would tell me what it is so I can at least try to help her work
through it.
I decide against my better judgment to press her a little further. Maybe a nudge is all she needs to
open the floodgates.
It’s my goal to cheer her up, no matter how distant and preoccupied she’s behaving right now.
“Hey,” I whisper softly, going for a gentler effect this time.
Rose slowly turns her head and gives me an expectant gaze. “What?”
I clutch the steering wheel and dive right in. “Is there something on your mind?”
Rose gazes out the front windshield. “No.”
“Really?” I ask with surprise, all my senses on alert now. Because, yeah, there really fucking is.
“Are you sure? Nothing is wrong that you want to talk about?”
“Did you not like my family?” Rose asks defensively.
“What?” I shake my head ardently. “No, of course not. Why would you think...” I trail off because
I’m fucking stunned at her question.
It’s not what I was expecting—probably because I’m so fucking stuck in my own head—and
frankly, I’m not sure how to respond to it.
Rose continues to stare out the window. “Good.”
“I know they’re protective of you,” I say.
Rose scoffs as if what I’m saying is humorous. “They can be a bit much, you don’t have to lie.”
“I’m not lying…” I trail off again. Then, a thought comes in my head that I know Rose can relate to.
“I have a huge family, too. I mean, you should meet them. Meeting your family was a cakewalk compared
to what that would be like. But overbearing or not, ninety-nine percent of the time, they love us and just
want the best for us.”
My comment seems to break Rose from her little spell a little bit. “Yeah…that’s the truth.”
“So, nothing’s wrong?” I grin and try to make myself look totally fucking irresistible.
Rose looks back at me with a small smile on her face. “No.”
“No, nothing’s wrong?” I just need to nail down a correct assumption here. “We’re good?”
“We’re good.” Rose nods and looks back out her window briefly before rubbing her temples.
I’m still not convinced―she still seems detached, indifferent to me
I try not to take offense. Maybe she’s just tired, like me. It was a long night after all.
Pushing ahead, I let her know the plans for the night, if she’ll agree to them. “We’re heading back to
my penthouse to spend the night there.”
I’m met with silence. I mean, I can almost hear fucking crickets in the car between us.
“Rose?” I inquire once more. “Is that alright with you? Do you want to spend the night with me?”
I hold my breath, but it doesn’t take long for her to respond.
“Yes,” she confirms. “I’ll spend the night with you.”
Okay, so we’re establishing she’s spending the night. That’s progress, right? Hopefully it’s all
uphill from here.
Because there’s one thing I’m certain of: I want to move forward with Rose, whatever that actually
means.
 Rose


I keep my eyes on the passersby outside the passenger side window. The problem is too personal to
just blurt out in the car. Of course, I appreciate his concern, but I don’t want to raise it like this.
Anyway, how do I approach the matter? Do I just come out and tell him, Hey, so why are you
carrying like a hundred condoms with you at all times? No.
I mean it’s not really a problem, is it? I shake my head a little. Of course not. It’s totally okay to
wear a condom. Good, actually.
Mentally, I make a list of all the reasons why wearing a condom during sex is a good thing. It’s a
pretty long one.
Next, I compare the list to why it’s a problem. Of course, I can really only come up with one reason
—a pretty major one, though.
Let’s face it, girlfriends. If I’m going to have his baby, he will need to fuck me without a condom at
some point in time.
But this might be where my problem is. I’m getting way ahead of myself.
We haven’t actually agreed to that, so maybe I’m the one being obsessive here. Maybe he’s just
looking out for me, protecting me in case we call the whole thing off.
When he pulls up outside his luxury penthouse, I stay in my seat.
“Um,” he starts and looks at me. “Are you not getting out?”
It’s my turn to be confused.
“Are you leaving your car?” I ask and bite my tongue. I wish I hadn’t said that. Standing on the curb
is a smartly dressed man. Why am I letting all my insecurities about the status of our relationship/business
deal come out as scathing remarks?
“Not for long,” he replies and comes over to hold my door open.
When we walk into his penthouse, I hold my breath for a few seconds and let my eyes feast on
what’s on offer.
The most exquisite nutmeg-colored wooden floorboards gleam in the artificial light, offset by a
beige-gray wall color with fancy artwork hanging here and there. Like the gentleman he is, Daniel takes
my coat and places it on a hook near the door. Then he walks me into the living room.
Here, I’m greeted by huge floor-to-ceiling glass windows and a half-moon black leather lounge.
It’s minimalist, but tastefully decorated. I slip out of my shoes and walk over to the grand piano I
spot in a corner.
I let my fingers move over the white keys, playing the E-major scale. Old habits die hard.
“You play?” I ask, a little surprised to find such a valuable piece in his apartment.
Daniel shrugs. “A little.”
 I squint and stare at him. I don’t think he’s telling me the whole truth.
From the piano, I move to the huge windows and feast on the view. It’s breathtaking.
Below me is the entire cityscape. The lights make it look like a fairy village. I smile.
“Wow,” I say and turn to him.
Daniel is standing by a small bar. For the first time, I notice the large spiral staircase leading to an
upper floor. I wonder if that’s where the bedroom is.
“Drink?”
“What can you offer?” I try to sound playful, but my mind is still elsewhere. From time to time, I’m
like a dog with a bone—I can’t let go of something when it starts troubling me. And unfortunately, the
whole condom thing is troubling me.
God, I wish I could just let it go.
I can’t explain it. I’ve always been like this. As soon as I fixate on something, I can’t let it go until
I’ve got an explanation or a solution.
Apparently, this obsession of mine used to drive my poor mother insane. No one was safe from my
questions and persistence if I couldn’t understand something right away. Like one day, Dad brought home
a word search, and I didn’t rest until I completed every last exercise.
“Martini, cocktail, vodka and orange.”
I laugh. “How about a lemon-lime and bitters?”
I watch Daniel’s expert movements preparing drinks for a while, then I turn back to the view. I
know it’s not of mountains or the ocean, but it’s pretty amazing.
To think, below us are people going about their business, partying in nightclubs, and finding their
way to their little homes. And here I am on top of the world.
His arms wrap around me from behind and hand me my drink. A little of the pink bubbly liquid
spills onto the shiny floorboards.
“Oops, sorry,” I mumble and go to bend down and clean it up.
But his arms stop me from moving. He’s kissing me on my neck, nibbling on my ear lobe, and
sucking on the spot just underneath.
My knees instantly turn to jelly, and my head leans against his chest.
“Something’s bothering you,” he whispers into my ear. “I can tell.”
It’s strange how Daniel is also not letting go of the matter. We’re more alike than I thought. I mean,
in a way, we seem worlds apart. Just looking around here where he lives ―compared to my little sardine
tin of a flat―only highlights this to me.
And yet, he’s also not letting go of my change in mood. He’s totally in tune with me.
I turn to face him. He doesn’t release me, and I’m still trapped in his arms. It makes me feel secure,
wanted, almost loved.
The words I want to say die on my lips. I can’t possibly tell him what’s troubling me. I mean, it’s
just ridiculous. Let it go, Rose, I tell myself. Let it go.
“Nothing’s wrong.” I try to put as much emphasis on the nothing and wrong as I can.
It really shouldn’t matter.
I try to tell myself to relax. I mean, I should look around and live in the moment. Enjoy the luxury.
When was the last time one of my ex-boyfriends took me to their place, and it looked like this?
That’s an easy answer.
Never.
I have to remember: Daniel isn’t an ordinary run-of-the-mill man. Daniel is special, and we’re still
in the getting-to-know-you phase to see if—and I have to remember it’s only an if—I should take it to the
next level by having a baby with him.
“It’s because of the condom, isn’t it?”
I’ve just taken a sip of my drink when Daniel puts my concern into words.
I nearly choke on it. I cough and splatter and cough some more. Tears stream from my eyes.
Daniel rubs my back gently. It’s a very caring, personal gesture.
Then he takes me by the hand and leads me to the black leather lounge.
I feel as if I’m melting into the leather. I’ve never sat on a couch as soft as this. It hugs my body, and
I don’t think I’ll ever want to get up again.
“Okay.” His concerned eyes are looking straight at me.
I already feel really bad for having raised the matter at all―in body language, if not actual words.
It really was so silly of me.
I’m about to tell him it doesn’t matter, but he puts his index finger on my lips.
“Shh,” he says, gently but firmly. “I’ll need to tell you at some point in time anyway, so I may as
well make it now.”
Something hard and cold squeezes my heart. Is there something wrong with him? Maybe he’s fatally
ill, which of course would explain this whole wanting an heir thing.
Oh, my god. That’s it. He’s dying.
Here I was, getting drawn in by his charm and wanting to have his baby―and maybe so much
more―and he’s about to die.
I press my hand to my mouth, my eyes wide, not wanting to hear what he has to say, but needing to
know all the same.
“It’s…” He starts and stops again. “As you must understand, this is fucking difficult to talk about.”
Difficult? Do I understand?
Now I feel more of those tears well up in my eyes. If I’m not careful, I’ll start bawling my eyes out
before he’s even started to tell me the bad news.
I wonder how long he’s got? Are we talking days, months, or years? Would the baby even get to
know his or her father?
 When he looks at me with his crooked smile, I know I missed something.
“Um, sorry,” I mumble and take another sip of my drink. I can’t imagine what my face must look
like right now.
“The thing is, I don’t seem to be able to, well…um…to come inside a woman if I don’t…wear a
condom.”
Wait, what? Hold the train.
Did I hear him correctly? I regret taking a sip of my drink because it’s all I can do to not spit it out
all over the place right now.
I want to laugh, because this surely is a joke, but one look at Daniel’s face tells me he wouldn’t
understand. I mean, I thought he was dying.
But this? I never expected this. This problem is something different altogether.
Something I have no idea how to wrap my head around.
“So…” I’m not quite sure what to say.
“I know.” Daniel’s kneading his hands together. “It’s silly, really, but—” He stops again.
“And it can’t be…treated?”
I have to admit I’ve never heard of the condition. It almost sounds made up. But surely there must
be something he can do.
I’m no psychologist, but it sounds very much like a psychological thing to me.
He sighs and looks at me. Those puppy eyes have grown even larger, if that’s possible.
“The cures the doctor suggested are all silly, and the ones I’ve tried haven’t worked at all.”
“Cures?” Where the hell is this going? This is getting stranger by the second. I tilt my head to the
side and wait.
“He prescribed a mix of herbs, which I drank, but that didn’t work. He also suggested I drink more
goat’s milk.”
I raise an eyebrow at the goat milk suggestion, pressing my lips together to keep from laughing.
Daniel shrugs. “Apparently, goats are hornier than cows or something.”
I can’t contain it anymore. I burst out laughing. He’s totally fucking with me.
“And he also said to try dancing naked in the moonlight on a deserted beach before…you know,” he
trails off, grinning.
I take his hand and make him look at me. I’m pretty sure he thinks this condition is real, but I think
it’s all in his head. Just like I know telling me this has to be a huge fucking blow to his ego.
But seriously, the guy is a fucking sex god. Never in my life have I experienced anything like I have
with him. He’s done me a huge favor by showing me what I’ve been missing.
Just like he’s doing me a huge favor with this baby bargain…if we ever seal the deal, that is.
Time for me to return those favors.
“I’ll help you find a cure somehow,” I promise him, and I fucking mean it. Because you know what?
Finding the ‘cure’ for this sounds like a whole lot of fucking fun.
And like a whole lot of fucking.
I’m so up to the challenge.
 Daniel


Sure, my chest feels lighter from having just spewed the truth about my condom setback to Rose, but
the fact that she’s staring blankly at me as if she’s having a difficult time digesting this new information
gives me an unsettling feeling.
I swallow hard and can’t think of anything else to do, so I just stay there, staring at her and praying
that she says something—anything—before my self-assurance crumbles like a dry cake.
She opens her mouth.
Yes! Progress.
Then, she shuts it close again and furrows her brows with concern. Apparently, we’re back to
square one again.
Maybe I should break the silence, but I don’t want to end up saying the wrong thing. My stomach
churns, tightening into a ball of stress and nerves that makes me feel heavy inside.
My heart gallops like a racehorse in my chest. Come on, Rose, talk to me, baby.
Even if she opts to curse me, hit me, swear and scream at me, I’ll take that over the void of silence
that clings to the air like a wet t-shirt sticking to my back.
If she doesn’t talk soon, I’m going to go nuts. No pun intended. You know, nuts and semen and not
being able to come without a bag on and all that…
Okay, fine. Whatever. Even I admit that one is in poor taste.
Rose glances out the window and heaves a sigh as if she’s carrying the weight of the world on her
shoulders and doesn’t know how to release some of the burden.
I’d love to help her, to swoop in and be her knight in shining armor, if only I can get past this
coming-in-her-pussy mishap.
She’s looking at me and piercing my heart with her soul. I’m intoxicated, enthralled, and captivated
by her, and I would take a fucking bullet for her. The last thing I want to do is cause her any type of pain
or suffering, believe me.
“Do you think…” she whispers and trails off, looking out the window as if whatever inkling of a
budding thought in her mind is preposterous and not worth verbalizing.
“What? Tell me…you can talk to me and tell me your thoughts on the matter. I know it sounds
insane, ridiculous, and made up, but I swear I want to make this work for you…for us.”
I try not to sound like I’m pleading with her, like I’m negotiating her off of a high bridge that she’s
threatening to jump from.
I genuinely want to fix my problem, and if she has any insight, then by all means, she needs to share
it with me for the good of the cause.
I gently hold onto her arms and rub them with affection, caressing her to swoon her and coax the
ideas right out of her gorgeous, brilliant brain.
Rose pauses midsentence, but then reveals a question that disappoints me because I’m certain she’s
not going to favor my response in the slightest.
“Maybe there’s another way?” Her voice is high and sharp with an enthusiasm that breaks my heart.
I shake my head, but Rose interrupts me. I shift my weight uncomfortably as she grips my arm with
her long, slender, and sexy fingers.
“I know you said you went to that doctor, but honestly? He sounds like a quack. There’s got to
be…something that can help you work through this.” She doesn’t sound frantic yet, but she’s barreling
down that path for sure.
“Rose…” I begin, easing her in by treading lightly here. I’m already failing miserably at making her
emotionally satisfied.
Physical satisfaction? One hundred percent guaranteed, every single time. I nail that shit.
Pun intended this time.
I respect her gut reaction. Sure, she wants to see me get better, and believe me, I want that, too. I
mean, it’s not like I can hold up my end of the bargain if I don’t. It’s just…well, lately I’ve been feeling
like it’s a hopeless case.
“Tell me. Let’s figure this out together,” she murmurs.
Wow. Finally, a woman who’s willing to stand behind me even when it seems like a lost case.
“I’ve already tried loads of treatment,” I reply as I shake my head and dismiss the idea. “Nothing
has worked so far.”
“Well…that just means we haven’t found the right option out there for you yet.” Rose glances up at
me with a positive twinkle in her eyes that I hate to shoot down out of the clouds with a disappointment-
filled arrow.
I take a deep breath, preparing myself to dive into the most elaborate explanation I can give her as
to why I’m a fucking mess.
I rub my tired temples and shuffle my feet against the cool hardwood floor. “I’ve already tried three
treatments,” I remind her.
“The doctors can’t find a cure. Okay. But Daniel, this isn’t a medical condition. At least not one
I’ve ever heard of. Perhaps it’s a psychological thing then…” Rose trails off with newfound optimism.
“I tried the methods, but nothing has worked so far,” I tell her the brutal, honest truth of the matter.
A smile spreads across Rose’s beautiful, full lips. She seductively places a hand on my chest and
scratches her nails up and down my torso.
Then she hugs me close, and I inhale the scent of her shampoo. It smells like lavender, and I can just
shut my eyes and picture myself fucking her in a valley of wildflowers.
I wish I could be doing that with her right now, but having her embrace me in will have to be
second best, just so long as she stays near me. I never want to let her go, but she pulls away and gives me
a tender smile.
“Just so you know…” she begins.
“Yeah?” I wait expectantly as arousal pulses in my cock yet again.
“If we ever do decide to do this, I will be there, right by your side, so you can find a…cure for
your affliction.”
I breathe out an audible sigh of relief.
“Thank you.” I grab her to swing her close to me once again.
I begin to show her my gratitude by first kissing her soft, rosy cheeks. My actions are subtle at first,
nurturing―and swell my cock even more.
The taste of her cherry lip gloss lingers on my mouth as she delicately parts hers to allow me
access to her beautiful body, one perfect sliver at a time.
The fire ignites once again in my belly and spreads to every limb, toe, finger―every fucking
extremity I have. I’m fucking addicted to Rose, and you can be damn sure I’m not going to let her get away
from me.
Hungrily and urgently, I shower her with kisses that make her skin prickle with pleasure, chill
bumps rising on her smooth flesh.
The flames of desire burn between us. I want to pleasure her over and over. I want her to scream
with ecstasy that only I can give her.
With playful roughness, I push her up against the glass wall of my penthouse overlooking the city.
I delicately undress her, deliberately taking my time so that she’ll go wild as desire takes over
every fiber of her being.
I pull her shirt over her head and caress her full, spectacular tits. She’s not wearing a bra, so I don’t
have to worry about fussing with anything. Not that it matters―I’m a natural when it comes to removing
articles of female clothing from their bodies.
Rose is moaning now, her cheeks flushed in anticipation as I push her legs apart with a wicked grin,
just for her.
She’s intoxicating, and the blossoming scent of her delicious, ripe, and glistening pussy drives me
fucking wild.
I want to pay her back for the debt I owe her, the virtue of exemplary patience, because I know how
frustrating it must be to not know what’s going to happen next with our deal. With us.
I want to make her come all over my face, all over my hands, fucking everywhere. I want to taste
her hot, warm cum as it oozes and drips out of her sweet, decadent pussy lips.
I take two fingers and push them inside of her as she gasps, giggling and moaning as she wiggles
around on top of me.
I spend a few minutes pumping my fingers in and out of her as I kiss along her slender neck and
shoulders, thrusting faster and faster, rubbing simultaneously against both her G-spot and her clit.
 I use my thumb to play with her clit, swirling magical circles of pleasure and erotic bliss over her
engorged bud and continue to push my fingers deeper inside of her to nail her G-spot again and again.
My efforts are soon rewarded when Rose grips my hair with her fingers and pulls it, digging her
nails into my scalp as she rocks back and forth on the window.
She comes in an explosion of sheer bliss, shaking uncontrollably for a moment. When she winds
down from her climax, breathing heavily and laughing, I decide to give her a wonderful show.
I take my fingers, the ones that were just a few seconds ago inside of her slit and smell them. Rose
pants with pure fucking desire, and I can see that I’ve got her totally fucking enthralled.
I take my tongue and slowly graze it across my index and middle fingers, then suck on them, making
sure to savor it as if I’m sucking on a lollipop.
“You taste incredible,” I tell her as I lick my lips.
“Why don’t you use your mouth this time?” Rose grins and pushes my head between her legs, and
hikes herself up on the window so that she’s sitting on my face. Fuck, she’s like a wet dream come true.
In good position now, I rake my tongue across her clit and swollen pussy lips until she moans
wildly with pleasure.
I swirl my tongue around, working hard and reciting the fucking alphabet on her clit until she
violently shakes on top of me, coming again in record time.
She’s out of breath, glistening in the afterglow of two intensely erotic back-to-back orgasms, and
my cock is as hard as a fucking rock.
Rose stares down at it and grins with mischievous flare. “Now,” she whispers seductively like the
naughty girl she is, “I want to return the favor.” She pushes her index finger into my chest.
“Okay. No arguments here.” I grin, desire clouding my mind with fresh, insatiable lust.
“Wait!” I halt Rose right before she opens her mouth as wide as she can to swallow me in one bite.
“What is it?” She appears alarmed.
“Um…I need a condom…” I wince and trail off. I mean, do I really? I don’t know.
I should be able to come in her fucking mouth, right? Not like I’m going to knock her up like that.
At this point I’m starting to wonder if it is just all in my head. Pun intended.
“Okay.” Rose sighs and I can tell she’s trying not to make me feel even more uncomfortable than I
already am. “Go and get one, if you need it.”
In that case, I whisper a quick apology into her ear and jog to my bathroom where I fumble quickly
through the cabinets, finding one at last and retrieving it in a swipe.
I run back to Rose, ready and lured in by her cinnamon eyes. “Okay, I’m ready now.”
 Rose


I think he misunderstood my intention.
My bad. I’ll give him a blowjob later.
But now that he’s armed with a condom, we better get right down to business.
With the lights of the city behind us, I sit on the window ledge and spread my legs for him. I’m his
for the taking.
Of course I’m having a little trouble concentrating on the sex. His condom problem is, well, kind of
unnerving.
Part of me wants to rush off and consult Dr. Google. I mean, if anyone can offer help, it’s the great
search engine of the Interwebz.
I bet if we type in need help to get rid of need to wear condom during sex all the time or some
similar shit, there’d be thousands of returns. Admittedly, it would not be in the millions, but how many
different ways do you need to read about solving the same problem, right?
I’ve never understood why you get like a bazillion search results when you search for something.
What’s the point? Two or three pages, about thirty results, would be just fine. I hardly ever get to
page two on search results.
Anyway, I can’t help but think Daniel might be stumbling around in the dark about his problem
because he doesn’t actually want to find a solution.
It’s pretty obvious to me. With so many women wanting to have his child and openly talking about it
on any social media outlet that will let them, I’m surprised needing to wear a condom during a pussy fuck
is his only problem.
I guess I should be grateful he’s still able to fuck. It would be so much worse if he couldn’t do it at
all. Sex with condom is better than no sex and no condom.
The thoughts are getting me confused right now.
I’m so distracted I don’t realize at first that Daniel is pulling me off the ledge and toward the ultra-
comfortable, super-soft leather lounge.
It’s the kind of lounge you never want to leave once you’re sitting on it. As he pushes me onto it, I
sigh.
Instead of lying on my back and facing him, he rolls me over so I’m face down. I push myself up on
my arms and present him with my ass. Part of the reason I do this is I fear I may just fall asleep on my
tummy on this gorgeous couch.
Daniel rubs my ass and lets his fingers go down to my pussy. The tip of his cock is poking at my
cheeks.
Without any command from me, my ass is pushing toward him, begging him to enter me. But
Daniel’s quite content to play with me.
His fingers tease my clit and draw little circles all around it, touching it only every now and again.
I push against him again and lower my upper body a little.
This man is a fucking expert at pleasuring me and driving me insane with desire. If he doesn’t push
his massive cock into me like right fucking now, I might die from anticipation.
Why a man with his skill level has any kind of sexual problem is beyond me.
Is needing to wear latex even a sexual problem? I don’t think so. Like even saying sexual and
problem in the same sentence when referring to Daniel is totally an oxymoron.
Yeah, so not a sexual problem. Sounds totally like a psychological problem to me, though. I mean,
I’m no fucking psychologist, but I know most problems as far as sex is concerned are psychological.
My grandma was a firm believer that there’s no such thing as a fertility problem. If a couple can’t
conceive, it’s because they’re too stressed about wanting or needing to have a baby. I don’t know about
all that, but you get my point.
Wanting a baby. I so want a baby. Daniel’s baby.
There’s no doubt in my mind now.
But if I’m going to have his baby, he’s gonna need to have sex with me without a fucking condom.
Could I manipulate the condom beforehand? Would he notice if I prick a tiny hole into? Would a
tiny hole be enough for the sperm to fit through?
Argh. What the hell am I thinking? I’m starting to sound like his crazy, obsessive ex-girlfriends or
wannabe girlfriends on social media.
But what will we do about it?
So many fucking questions and so few answers.
Suddenly I wish I didn’t know about his problem, although no—no, I definitely need to know about
it.
It puts our whole fucking bargain at risk.
Um, if we ever actually make the deal, that is.
I feel my own juices being spread between my legs and on my ass, and I push all these thoughts
away to focus on what’s really important here—Daniel fucking me.
I close my eyes. Wherever he touches me, he leaves a trail of burning desire. The ecstasy is
building in me, rising to a crescendo.
And then without further warning, the tip of his cock is hovering at my pussy.
My hot cunt grabs for the object of its desire, but he’s not quite in far enough for there to be
success. My hips thrust back toward him, and slowly, the tip of his cock pushes into me.
My back arches, and my tits dangle below me. I wish his hands would cup them, play with them,
and squeeze them, but right now he’s digging them into my ass.
I throw my head back and look over my shoulder.
 Little beads of sweat roll down his chest. While I can’t see his motor neurons, I know they must be
working at maximum capacity―his abdominal and chest muscles contracting and relaxing in rhythm with
his pelvic thrust.
Wow.
I can’t believe how fucking good-looking he is—sexy as hell, really, particularly when he’s fucking
me like this, doggy style. I fucking love it.
Mesmerized, I watch his left hand leave my ass and reach for my tits. He first pinches and squeezes
my left nipple before moving on the right one. Since they’re both for the taking, he wastes no time in
giving them the attention they deserve.
Over and over, I replay his words of not being able to fuck without a condom. It seems so
strange―and I can’t help but wonder if he’s got another agenda.
But what exactly that could be is beyond me.
Is he making up the condom story so I won’t get pregnant? But what would the advantage be to him?
Why would he do it?
I can’t see any fucking reason for stringing me along that way. If he doesn’t want to go ahead with
the deal, then he could just come out and say so.
It’s not as if Daniel has a shortage of women. He doesn’t need me. Any number of chicks out there
would trade places with me right away, I know that for damn sure.
I feel him increase his speed. I listen to the sound his balls make as they hit against my naked ass
cheeks. It’s a kind of splat sound.
Splat. Splat. Splat.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Me. Me. Me.
I push against him to increase the sensations.
By now, I’m crazy horny and not far from coming—again. I can’t believe he can make me come so
many times in one night.
Previous boyfriends barely managed to get me to come at all. Sometimes I’d fake my own orgasm,
just to make sure they got their ego boost. Imagine if you let a guy know he didn’t make you come.
Not Daniel, though. No faking for this man. Actually, he’s more like a Greek or Roman sex god,
that’s how fucking good he is.
What starts as a tiny flicker of pleasure in my belly soon grows into a raging fire of desire. Where
his hands touch my body, he leaves scorch marks, and his cock inside my pussy is sheer rapture.
With each inward thrust, the walls of my pussy contract around his growing cock. How his cock can
still be growing inside my tight space is beyond me, but it sure as fuck does.
Tiny fireworks go off inside my pussy as he thrusts harder and faster.
 When eventually I lose myself in my orgasm, wave after wave of pleasure rips through me and
threatens to drown me.
My muscles contract and relax in rapid succession, threatening to fucking strangle his cock.
When I feel his grip tighten around my tits and ass, I know he’s about to come himself. Briefly, his
body stiffens before he explodes his load into his condom.
After a while, I relax my arms to lie down. He stays on top of me and inside of me.
I feel him kiss the back of my neck before he starts to nibble and suck on my ear lobe.
“Sorry,” he whispers into my ear, and I say nothing.
What can I say? Before I know what to do with the information about the condom and Daniel, I
need to come to terms with it myself.
Right now, it’s too hard to think about and work out exactly what it means. And of course I want to
do my own research on the matter to see what kind of solutions other people offer on the matter.
If one thing is certain, it’s that Daniel is not the first or only guy with this kind of difficulty, and
somewhere will be a solution.
I feel him roll off me and snuggle into my back. I make room for him and just lie there.
“It’ll be alright,” he says, and now I turn to look at him.
“Of course it’ll be alright,” I confirm with a smile. Because no way am I letting this guy go.
In fact, at this point, I’m starting to wonder if having a baby with him is even on the top of my list.
If it came down to it, what would I choose? A baby? Or Daniel?
 Daniel


It seems as if she’s taking the news well. I mean, so far so good. She didn’t turn and run. She stayed
and let me fuck her.
I play with her hair as we lie entwined on the couch.
My legs are wrapped around hers, and her back pushes against my chest and abdomen.
I’m surprised at myself. It had been easier to confess my problem than I thought.
Once I felt those cinnamon eyes on me, filled with understanding, it just came out.
Of course. I could see the disbelief in her eyes as she listened to me, but there was something else
there as well.
I think it was compassion―a genuine desire to help and make the issue go away.
The sort of quality you want in a mother.
Mother.
I roll the word around my mouth for a bit, tasting it, exploring it and combining it with her name.
She’ll make a great mother. From what I’ve seen so far, she’s natural mom material. I’m not sure
how I’ll go myself, but Rose will do the perfect job.
There’s a little inward chuckle as I mentally write a job description for a mother.
Wanted—woman of many talents.
To fulfill this role, you will need to have eyes in the back of your head, be able to cope with little
sleep, settle disputes with minimal resources at the drop of a hat, be prepared to be challenged, and be
available twenty-four seven with no holidays ever. Management skills are essential, as is the ability to
attend to any emergency whatsoever and to be on call at all times. There are no leave entitlements and
the contract is for life.
If you are interested, call here.
Would Rose have applied if she’d read my job ad?
I bet most of the those women on those social media sites wanting to have my baby would have
second thoughts if it were put to them like this, too.
Rose turns toward me, and I feast my eyes on her tits. I love her pink nipples. They jut out and are
the soft pink you would use to paint the bedroom of a baby girl.
Fuck, I really do have babies on the brain. When the hell did that happen?
“And…” she says as she strokes my chest. I watch her finger draw little circles and swirls on my
skin. Her touch is gentle, and it leaves me burning with desire.
“And what?” I laugh. If I’m supposed to know what she’s asking, I haven’t got a fucking clue.
“And what now?”
I’m not sure if that’s really what she was going to ask, or if her real question is left unasked. I get
the impression there’s more hidden in that ‘and’, but she’s not sure how to put it.
“How about a little drink?” She bats her eyelashes at me.
There’s no saying no to that.
I untangle myself from her beautiful curves and head over to my little built-in bar. It takes me no
time at all to prepare two glasses for a cocktail.
Rose joins me, and I feel her hands on my back and around my waist. My body is enveloped with
warmth, and my cock is stirring again.
This woman has a magic touch. She seems to be able to snap her fingers and, click, my body
responds.
“Cocktail?” I ask and try my hardest to concentrate on what I’m doing. It is becoming increasingly
difficult to think straight with her hands all over me. If I’m not careful, my brain will stop working and
leave my cock in charge.
“Yes please,” she murmurs and licks her lips. Her fingers by now are stroking my growing cock,
feather-like. Her touch is so soft, I have to check if she’s using her fingers and not blowing her warm
breath on it.
Fuck. I’ve dropped an ice cube.
“Oh, thank you.” She chuckles and picks it up. “Crumbs from the Sire’s table. We’re being generous
today,” she quips. “Shall I put it in my mouth and hold it open to receive a drop of your precious load?”
Her eyes sparkle, and I shake my head.
With increasing fascination and a quick growing dick, I watch her run the ice cube down my belly
toward the tip of my now erect cock. When the ice rubs over my tip, shock waves of pleasure rip through
me.
Fuck. What is she doing to me?
Rose giggles and moves the ice along the length of my massive member, around its base, and back
up again. It’s as if she’s trying to extinguish the flames of desire burning within me.
But all that she’s doing is fanning them. Fire and ice, pleasure and pain, they work in unison.
I’ve stopped preparing our drinks. I’m unable to string a coherent thought together, and I’m not even
sure I’d be able to say my name if I was asked what it is.
Rose now drops to her knees and stares at my cock. Standing erect and at attention, it’s quivering in
anticipation.
At this point, I may just spray my cum all over at the slightest touch.
The cold is still lingering on my skin, and when Rose bends forward to blow a gentle kiss on my
tip, I nearly faint from the pleasure.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’m dizzy from the excitement building in me. I know any second she’s going to wrap those lips
around my throbbing fucking cock and suck on it for all she’s worth.
 But nothing happens.
My eyes find hers. She’s simply staring at my cock, feasting on it, devouring it with her eyes.
Then she looks at me.
“I thought you promised me a drink,” she says with a pout.
I shake my head.
“Um…” I try to focus, but it’s difficult with the haze in my head.
“How about some Baileys and ice?” she suggests, and I rummage around my bottles until I find
what the lady asks for.
She stays kneeling in front of me. I hand her the drink.
“Thank you,” she murmurs and dips her finger into the glass. I watch her take it out and lick off the
liquid.
“Mmm,” she murmurs and then puts her finger back in the glass. Wide-eyed, I watch her drip some
of her drink onto my pulsing cock.
The cool liquid sends pleasure pulsing through me. When she then gently laps up the droplets, I feel
as if I’m going to fucking explode with pleasure.
“That’s better,” she says. “Sweet and salty mixed with sexual desire and lust.”
When her hot lips leave my cool cock, I want to just shove it right into her fucking pussy. For a
microsecond, I don’t even fucking care I’m not wearing a condom.
But before I can act on my desire, she’s dripped more of her cocktail on my cock, and I shiver in
anticipation.
Her tongue darts out, cleaning the dripping liquid off me and continuing to lick the length of my
shaft for good measure.
“Ohhhhh,” I groan, unable to form any coherent words.
Is this woman real? Or is she a witch? If she had green eyes, I might be tempted to think I’d caught
myself a witch, who was now using her wicked ways with me.
Whatever she is, I don’t fucking care. I just need to shove my throbbing fucking cock into her, into
some part of her, any fucking part of her.
When she pours some more of her drink over me, I nearly go insane. Then she puts her mouth over
my cock and starts to suck and lick and suck.
Explosions rip through me. My mind has gone completely blank and is filled with a hazy fog of
intense lust. I need to fuck her.
As if reading my mind, Rose increases her speed and rhythm and bobs up and down on me, giving
me a blowjob like I’ve never had one before.
The mixed sensations make me feel as if I’ve jumped out of a plane and am now floating weightless
through the sky, bouncing from cloud to cloud.
I can feel my cum building in my balls, a tingling at the base of my spine, and I know that any
second, I’m going to shoot the most humungous load down her pretty little throat.
My abs contract and flex again, and then my body stiffens. It’s coming. Any second.
Fuck.
“Roooooseeee,” I yelp and shoot my cream into her mouth.
I keep going and going, and she drinks every last drop of it.
When I finally finish, I collapse on the floor next to her.
She’s licking her lips.
“Not bad,” she comments. “Just the right combination of sweet and salty.”
I smile at her.
And then I lean forward to kiss her.
I start slow and gentle, picking up the taste of my own cum and Bailey’s on ice. Something stirs in
me. My kiss becomes more demanding, and I force myself up on her.
I don’t ask permission, I just push my tongue into her mouth and practically reach for her fucking
tonsils. I want to share in the taste of me she’s just had.
As I do, time slows down. There’s nothing else but Rose, me, and the sexual tension and lust
between us. There’s no condom problem or anything else.
Nothing else exists. We are one.
We’re fucking perfect for each other, and right now?
I want to fuck her again.
 Rose


I sigh. Why is life so fucking hard?
Couldn’t just once the stars align and let life be perfect?
Here is what seems like the perfect man: rich, incredibly good looking, sexy as all hell, interested
in some kind of arrangement involving having his child with me―and yet he’s not able to fuck my pussy
without a condom.
Man, oh man.
Fuck.
It was one thing agreeing to have a baby with Daniel, it was another finding out he can’t actually do
it without latex.
Part of me still can’t believe it, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s playing with me. He seems to
have no trouble at all fucking me in my mouth, as he just proved.
In fact, judging by what just happened, I’d say he fucking loves it. Why then does he need the rubber
before he fucks my pussy?
Psychological.
It’s got to be fucking psychological. But what kind of psychological problem is it? Fear of being
responsible for a chick to fall pregnant seems the most likely explanation.
I shake my head.
But if that was the case, it shouldn’t matter with me, since he wants me to have his child, right?
My thoughts go round and round in circles, and I fear I might go mad if I don’t stop. This is just
fucking madness.
Can’t a girl get her happily ever after just once in real life? Why is it only in movies and fairy
tales?
I mean, I’m accepting an incomplete happily ever after anyway. I’m going into this with my eyes
wide open. I know he doesn’t love me. I know the arrangement is purely a business arrangement.
I shake my head and sit up.
“What’s the matter, babe?” He smiles at me.
“I think we should retire to a different part of the apartment.”
He chuckles, and I feel myself drown in his smile and eyes. Those eyes are gorgeous.
“Lead the way, my princess,” he jokes and gets to his feet.
I know I’m no princess. If I were, there would be no problem. Fairy tales and all.
“You know,” I don’t move away from the bar, “I’m still owed a Bailey’s on ice.”
Grinning, he prepares two drinks for us. I move over to the sound system and flick through it.
Soon, I’m dancing to some hip-hop, and I watch Daniel stare at me open-mouthed. I dance over to
him and take my drink. I bring the glass to my lips and enjoy the coolness on my warm mouth.
I know my tits are bouncing up and down, and I can see my nipples harden already. Just as I bound
past Daniel, he grabs me and pushes me against him.
Now we sway together to the music. Our hips are joined, and I feel his cock come to life as my ass
rubs up against him.
Side to side and up and down, I move to the music. I feel his hips thrust forward into me, and I push
back against him.
My skin is burning, and I just want him to fuck me. I want to feel his cock rammed into my hole.
I know he hasn’t got another condom. And I don’t think he’ll reuse the last one. Because eww.
My insides are alight. Flames of desire flicker and lick at my openings. Once he’s inside me,
there’ll be an earthquake in here.
Time to turn the heat up. I take a step away, and he pulls me back. I step away, and he pulls me
back.
I lean into him and feel his hands on my tits. They cup them and squeeze them. My nipples are so
hard they push against the palm of his hand. Somehow, without leaving my tits, he’s able to rub against my
nipples.
The sensation is so awesome I feel electric jolts pulse through me. There are stars in front of my
eyes, and I yearn for him to push into me.
Here we go, here we go.
Come on, Daniel. Here we go. This is your fucking cue.
Maybe he senses my impatience. I feel him lead me across the room as we dance. At the bottom of
the stairs, he turns me toward them and then pushes me forward. My reflex has me reaching forward and
grabbing onto the railing.
Something pushes at my feet and I obey, spreading my legs.
I peer over my shoulder and see him right behind me. His fucking massive member is definitely as
ready as I am. It’s sticking straight up in the air, bouncing a little when it senses my proximity.
This is going to be it. He’s going to fuck me in my most private hole.
In anticipation, I wiggle my ass back at him and drop myself forward a bit. Now my upper body is
at ninety degrees to my legs.
My tits bounce freely from side to side.
Come on, I urge him on silently, and then I feel his hand on my clit. He’s barely touching it, but it
makes me go wild.
I try and push against him but, skillfully, he resists. The touch is lighter than that of a feather. My
juices flow in abundance.
Fuck. I moan. I throw my head back and arch my lower back.
Aware of his effect on me, he lets his index finger slide just past my clit into my saturated pussy. He
scoops up some of my juices and draws tiny circles along my ass.
The closer he gets to my hole, the more needy I become.
He uses both hands to massage, soothe, and knead. I relax and push back against him.
Back goes his hand to my clit. Now he uses thumb and index finger to squeeze my already over-
sensitive clit really fucking hard.
I yelp in pleasure and pain. Tiny explosions ripple through me.
And then his fingers have left again.
I don’t know how much more of this torture I’ll be able to take.
“Pleeaasseee,” I beg and try to find his bouncing, throbbing cock.
He guides the tip of it to my opening. I sigh as I feel it push into me. Instead of going all the way,
Daniel guides his dick gently into me, waiting for my hole to accommodate and relax around his cock.
His hands are now back on my tits, pinching and squeezing my nipples. The cocktail of sensations
spreading through me is overwhelming. My head’s spinning, and my knees threaten to give way any
second.
All of me is engulfed in ecstasy, and I fear I’m at risk of going mad.
Daniel is increasing the pace and rhythm. Faster and faster, he rams his cock inside of me. I try and
meet him with each thrust and revel in the sound of his balls slapping against my ass.
Hard and faster he goes. I can feel him expand in me and my own body contracts its muscles in
anticipation of me coming.
“Harder,” I pant and lower my body some more to feel him deeper in me.
His hands leave my tits and grab my hips. Now he’s pulling me toward, and I know it won’t be long
before I’m going to fall off the edge of another orgasm.
I can feel my abdomen contract and the walls of my pussy pulse.
“Daaaannniieeel,” I screech and grab the railing tighter. I can see white skin around my knuckles.
This is going to be an earthquake alright―only better. My body will erupt and shudder and fucking drown
in pleasure.
Daniel must be close to his own orgasm because I can feel him tense inside of me. His fingers are
digging into my skin, and he pulls me harder toward him.
And then with one final hard thrust, he comes inside of me.
I feel him empty his load into my hole, and at the same time, I’m gripped by my own orgasm.
Fire rushes through me, and my breathing is short and shallow. The tingling sensation starting in my
pussy spreads outward, and soon I’m filled with it.
When Daniel’s finished, he slumps on top of me. I feel as if my legs will collapse, and I can feel his
right arm come under me for support. We stay like this for what seems like forever.
This moment seems perfect. Daniel inside of me without rubber―okay, so he’s in my ass, but
still―there’s nothing separating us. This is the second time he’s filled my ass with hot, sticky cum.
 There’s obviously no problem with him unloading in my ass or my mouth. Progress, right?
Eventually, I drop my arms and feel him pick me up. Carefully, he carries me through the room
before he puts me ever so gently on the lounge.
He sits next to me and strokes my face, pushing loose hair behind my ear.
Our eyes meet and lock.
“Up for any further adventures?” I ask, and he grins at me.
“Do they involve sex?”
 Daniel


The aroma of bacon wafts through my nostrils, and I sniff, inhaling the glorious scent of breakfast.
Maple syrup and comfort.
Stretching, I yawn and peel open my sleepy, groggy eyes. As soon as I make my coffee, I’ll be
functional again.
It’s really sweet of Rose to make us breakfast this morning, and I can’t wait to reward her with a
nice little booty smack…and maybe I’ll eat her out if the food proves to be really tasty.
Wait a second.
What the…
Rose can’t be in the kitchen making a magical home-cooked meal for us.
Granted, I know she loves to cook, and I’ve witnessed her in the kitchen working her magic, but…
Rose can’t be in the kitchen cooking because Rose is in here with me.
She’s still sleeping soundly beside me. I watch as her chest peacefully rises and falls with each
breath.
If she’s in the bedroom with me, then who the hell is in my kitchen cooking right now?
I have to get to the bottom of this. I roll over in the bed and plant my bare feet on the cool
hardwood floors.
I carefully retrieve my arm from under Rose’s head. It tingles with numbness from falling asleep
under her.
I shake it out once I climb out of the bed, careful with my movements to make sure she doesn’t stir
or wake up.
I walk over to the other side of my bedroom and pull out a pair of boxers from my drawer, pulling
them over my exposed cock. I’m guessing that whoever is in my kitchen won’t be interested in seeing my
morning wood in all its glory.
I shuffle across the room and place my hand on the door knob. As soon as I pull it open, I gasp with
shock at who’s standing on the other side of the door.
Instinctively, I wince with embarrassment and flash a glance back at Rose in the bed. Thankfully,
she’s covered up with the comforter. Her petite little body is small and swallowed whole by the huge
sheets on top of her.
I look back at my mother and stare in surprise.
“Mom…” I laugh nervously and scratch my bed head. “What are you…um…what are you doing
here?”
My mom has a bright, beaming ray-of-sunshine type of smile plastered across her heavily made-up
face.
 I continue to stare at her, wondering when she’s going to give me a reasonable explanation for her
presence outside of my bedroom door when I’m only wearing a pair of boxers and there’s a naked girl
sleeping in my bed.
I’m trying to swallow my panic, but as I gulp hard and attempt the impression of a delighted grin at
seeing her, I’m visibly sweating.
“Oh, darling,” my mom grazes my bare chest with her fingertips, “I just thought I’d give you guys a
treat this morning.”
I gulp and turn around, giving my secret away by continually glancing at Rose. “Um…us?” I say
with a skull full of anxiety as I push her out the door and gently close it shut behind me.
“Of course, sweetie.” My mom’s laugh tickles the air as if I’m an idiot to assume she’s unaware of
what’s going on here. “I wanted to do something nice for you and your lady friend.”
Lady friend? What the hell is my mom doing here, trying to kill me with humiliation? I may be an
adult now, but I have limits when it comes to my mother invading my personal space and sniffing out a
female…companion in my apartment.
Before I have a chance to protest any of this ridiculousness, my mom quickly skirts back down the
hallway in the direction from which she came…the kitchen.
She must need to check on the bacon to make sure it’s not burning in the pan or something. For a
moment or two, I can’t move a single muscle. In theory, I should be chasing after her, begging her to go
home.
Maybe I can take the credit for breakfast, and I’ll get a special dessert treat of my own from Rose?
No, I can’t own up to all that cooking. Rose wouldn’t believe me for an instant.
Instead, I’m frozen in place, unable to move, and paralyzed by the shock of the events that are
unfolding.
I’m a little lost, struggling to determine how my mom got into my penthouse in the first place, until I
remember one monumental detail.
I had given my mother a key a while back―you know, when I was single and not looking at the
prospect of a serious relationship.
Hearing my own voice ring through my head, I did the unimaginable: I told my mother she was
welcome anytime.
Shit. What the hell have I done?
Honestly, remembering back, this isn’t the first time my mom has stopped by for a ‘friendly’ type of
visit.
She likes to show up unannounced sometimes, whenever she feels like it or has leisure time. I
suppose I should feel grateful that she cares enough about me to stop by, but enough is enough.
Why am I so surprised to see her here this morning you ask, as if I should be used to it? Well, to be
honest, all the other times she’s done this, I haven’t had a naked girl in my bed.
 I’m not interested in getting smothered by an overbearing mother, and I certainly don’t want Rose to
have to endure that torture, either.
On the other hand…
Rose comes from a big family as well. Perhaps she’ll take it all in stride and find the whole ordeal
comical.
Well, that’s what I’m hoping for, at least.
I take a deep breath and lean against the wall in my hallway, needing a few seconds to compose
myself.
Okay, I think I’m calm enough to go back to bed and face my fears. I need to wake Rose up and give
her a little fair warning of the over-indulgent and over-the-top mother figure who is probably whistling a
tune and dancing through my kitchen with a spatula in hand.
I close the door behind me and lock it―you know, for good measure and all. If my mom has no
reservations about helping herself to free reign of my house, then she probably wouldn’t have any
inhibitions about waltzing herself directly into my private bedroom suite.
I stand over Rose for a few seconds, watching her sleep. She looks so content, so beautiful.
Her hair spills across the pillow in long flowing locks that resemble feathers. I hate to disturb her
from her peaceful slumber, but the inevitable is calling―in the form of my mother setting a table for
breakfast in the nook just outside the kitchen.
Gently, I graze a hand over her head, trailing my fingertips through her hair until they become
intertwined with the wispy, delicate strands.
She stirs, but doesn’t rouse quite yet. Sighing contentedly, she rolls over in the bed―but her eyes
don’t open.
“Rose?” I lightly tug at her shoulder. “Rose?”
“Mmm?” She grins in her sleep. “Daniel, is that you?”
“It’s me,” I tell her, not whispering any longer because I want to get this over with.
She opens her eyes and blinks, furrowing her brow in confusion. Then, she reaches up for me and
gives me a sexy little smile.
“What are you doing out of bed and all the way up there?” she whispers seductively and licks her
lips.
Damn, she’s sultry, and her beckoning is really swaying me here.
There’s nothing I love more in this world than a horny woman who’s just woken up from a tender
sleep.
Something about her smell, her taste, and the softness of her skin entices me as she glows with
radiance under the sheets.
My sheets.
I really fucking love seeing her in my bed. I could get used to that.
 I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head, trying to distract myself with the thought of my mother
rifling through my kitchen for gadgets.
“Daniel?”
I open my eyes at the sound of Rose’s alarmed voice. She props herself up on her elbows and
stares at me with guarded caution.
“What is it? Why aren’t you coming back to bed? What time is it?”
Her voice sounds suspicious and frantic, so I ease myself slowly to a sitting position beside her on
the bed. I take her hands in mine, cupping them together to cradle them.
“There’s nothing wrong,” I reassure her and give her a warm, genuine smile.
Rose’s shoulders sag in visible relief. “Okay.” She grins and bites her lip again, moving her legs in
the bed. “Is it early still?”
“That depends.” I laugh nervously. “Is ten o’clock in the morning too early to have breakfast?”
Rose giggles, giving me an inspecting glance. “What is up with you today?”
I heave a dramatic sigh and decide to just rip off the Band-Aid, right then and there.
“Well…” I chuckle. “I have a confession to make.”
Rose pretends to be freaked out. “Oh, god. Not another confession.”
I playfully give her a little nudge, to which she responds with a fit of giggles, withering around in
the sheets and squealing with delight as if I’m tickling her to death.
“Shh…” I hold her down.
She brushes the hair off her face and glances around with suspicion.
“What’s going on, Daniel?” This time, her voice is firmer than before, demanding.
“Okay, look,” I say, with a gesture to the bedroom door. “My mom is here, and she’s cooked us
breakfast.”
The look on her face is exactly how I feel: Oh, shit.
Yeah, fucking tell me about it.
 Rose


Okay, now he has my attention―but not quite in the best way possible. I jolt up in bed, sitting up in
a lurch. I expel a nervous laugh, a sound almost unrecognizable to my ears.
“Um…what?” I ask, needing confirmation that I’m not still dreaming. I’m trying not to freak out, but
I’m shocked for sure.
I feel sorry for Daniel. He looks downright freaked out, and his face is stark white like the sheets
underneath me.
“I’m so sorry…” He trails off.
I exhale sharply and brush the hair off my cheek, giving him a smile and a reassuring nod.
“It’s okay…really.”
“Wow.” Daniel looks amazed.
“Wow what?” I laugh and scratch my elbow, feeling awkward and waiting for instructions on what
I should do next.
Daniel shakes his head and disbelief and glances at my knees with a smile. “Nothing, it’s just…
wow…you are completely fucking amazing.”
I stroke his cheek. “What makes you say that?”
“I just told you my mom let herself in and is helping herself to my kitchen to prepare a full on feast
for us, and you aren’t even upset.” Daniel glances at me as if I’m his new hero.
I just laugh, taking it all in stride. “Well, you didn’t exactly tell me that she let herself in.”
Daniel feigns sheepishness and rubs the thick hair on his head. “Did I forget to mention that?” he
jokes.
“Oh, stop it.” I laugh and tease him by tossing the pillow behind my back at him.
Inside my head, though, the fact that his mother has a key and traipses around whenever she pleases
is slightly unnerving, but I choose to keep that information to myself because Daniel looks stressed out
enough as it is right now.
“So…” he grins as if he’s getting ready to ask a huge favor for which he’ll be forever in my debt.
“Just go ahead and spit it out.” I sigh, appeasing him with a roll of my eyes.
Daniel pats my knee. “You are so fucking great.”
“So, let me guess, we need to go and eat what she’s cooked for us?” I grin with a twinkle in my eye.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Daniel says.
“Looks like there’s more than one pussy in this room,” I tease him with a wink.
“Oh, now you’re going to get it for that one, missy.” Daniel picks me up by the hips and throws me
back down playfully, holding me down as he tickles me, making me giggle and shriek.
“Stop it,” I demand and thrash around, laughing.
 He finally lets me go, and we’re both panting―and hungry. I can smell bacon seeping under the
door, the scent wafting down the hall from the kitchen.
I throw the blankets off my naked body and pull a modest pink t-shirt over my head and the same
jeans I wore the night before.
“Are you ready to get this over with?” Daniel casts me a grin as he jumps into a pair of shorts and
throws a black t-shirt over his head that reads ‘Brooklyn Nets’.
“Not quite yet.” I laugh as if he’s insane. “I need to brush my teeth and brush my hair, not to mention
blot on some foundation.”
“You don’t have to do all that.” Daniel waves his hand dismissively. “It’s just Mom.”
I clear my throat and raise an eyebrow at him. “Um, are you kidding?”
“What?” He laughs, adorably clueless.
“Correction,” I tell him. “She’s your mom, not mine. I need to look presentable for her.”
Daniel strolls over to my side and wraps his arms around my waist. We sway back and forth as if
we’re at a junior prom dance or something, grinning at each other with giddy expressions.
“I think you’re already gorgeous,” he whispers as he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“Thanks, but I’m still not convinced I don’t need to at least run a comb through my hair,” I tell him
and swat him away.
I run to the bathroom to get mildly presentable and then follow Daniel to his kitchen where my heart
beats with frantic anxiety.
When we get to the kitchen, Daniel’s mother is wearing a floral print apron (where it came from, I
have no fucking idea), and she’s pouring orange juice into tall glasses that sit on the kitchen table.
“Wow, Mom, you really went all out this time,” Daniel says.
This time? So, does that mean this happens often?
I plant a polite smile on my face and wait for introductions. Once we get that over with, his mom
beams at us, instructing me and Daniel to sit down and enjoy the lavish spread she’s presenting.
“Everything looks delicious,” I tell her.
Daniel’s mom has been grinning ear-to-ear ever since we walked in the room. Normally, I would
find this sort of behavior unnatural and fake, but there’s nothing about Daniel’s mom that seems like she’s
faking it right now. She seems lighthearted and genuinely fun.
No wonder he gave her a key with unlimited access to his life.
I bite into the most decadently fluffy mountain of pancakes that I’ve ever seen in my life. They
literally melt in my mouth, and I groan with approval.
“Oh, my goodness,” I swallow the amazing bite and dab my mouth with the napkin in my lap.
“These are phenomenal.”
“Truly outstanding, Mom.” Daniel smiles and raises his glass for me to do a toast with him.
“Seriously,” I say and cut into a piece of sausage, dipping it into a pond of syrup on my plate. “Can
you do this for me every day?” I joke and glance at Daniel who tosses me a flirtatious wink.
“Sweetie, you just sit back and relax, eat to your heart’s content, and I’ll take care of everything.”
She pats my shoulder with amusement.
“Thank you,” I say and continue to dive in, gobbling the food down just as she’s instructing.
“So…” she begins. “What’s your name?”
She means no harm by the question. I know she’s just making polite and friendly conversation. Even
still, I involuntarily tense up and toss a subtle glance at Daniel who coaxes me along with a nod.
“Um…” I clear my throat and wipe my mouth on the napkin again. “I’m Rose.” I smile up at her
with a mouthful of food, feeling embarrassed.
“Rose,” his mom says as she closes the fridge behind us and walks back over to the table. “I like
that name. Very classic. A beauty, just like you.”
I blush at her compliment and bow my head. “Thank you.”
“How did you two meet each other? What’s the story there?” She looks between us, and I imagine
that the question is up for grabs.
I’ll let Daniel cover this one.
“Mom,” he says and casually points the fork in his hand in my direction. “You remember Rose.”
His mom glances at me with a furrowed brow, investigating me while she tries to rack her memory.
“I do?”
“Yeah…” he says. “Well, you remember me telling you about her, anyway.” He laughs and takes a
bite of egg. “She’s the one I met at the tea shop.”
He told her about me? I feel my chest swell, knowing that he’s been talking about me to his mother.
“Oh right.” She flicks her forehead as if she’s a scatterbrain.
“How long have you two been together?” She eyes me, and I know this one is directed at me, so I
have no choice but to answer.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, but try to make the act as subtle as possible. “Um…one month.”
Regardless of all the answers, his mom seems positively delighted. “Well,” she states and sits
down next to me, “I have to say it’s such a pleasure to meet you, Rose. I just hate that it’s under these
circumstances.”
She gives her son a lecturing glance, and he shrugs with a grin.
“It’s lovely to meet you, too,” I say shyly and look down at my plate which is now swimming in
syrup.
“I do genuinely apologize,” she says again and places a heartfelt hand to her chest. “I show up
unannounced sometimes, and that gets on Daniel’s nerves.”
“It’s really fine.” I dismiss her apology politely with a wave of my hand.
“I usually try to drop by when I most suspect that Daniel won’t have anyone with him,” she
explains. “Ah, well.” She claps her hands together and makes me jump. “I thought I’d make the best of a
sticky situation,” she laughs.
“No pun intended, eh, Ma?” Daniel chuckles and points his knife to his plate that’s also drowning
in syrup.
“Oh, you kids just eat and don’t fuss over me.” She waves a hand at all the food and stands up again
to clear some of the empty dishes off the table.
I eat as much as I can, under the circumstances, because let’s face it…I’m nervous as hell.
This isn’t exactly the way I wanted to meet Daniel’s mother. I haven’t even showered yet.
Internally, I struggle with self-doubt.
What if his mom is just being polite? What if she really thinks I’m a whore and I should leave her
son alone?
It’s an answer I want to know but have no true way to ask.
Once we finish eating, Daniel stretches and yawns, rubbing his full belly. He has all but recovered
from the awkwardness.
I just roll my eyes. It’s a typical male thing to do. As soon as their mommies come around with
food, they become different people.
They’re all the same, but I just brush it off in my head. He’s perfect in so many other ways, and
besides, he’s just…well, normal, actually. It’s nice to see that.
Daniel brings his plate to the kitchen along with mine. “Thank you for that amazing breakfast,
Mom,” he tells her gratefully and plants a kiss on her forehead. “You outdid yourself this time.”
“Darling, it was nothing…and my pleasure.” She squeezes him into a gentle hug.
“Well, I hate to kick you out,” he laughs, “but we have to get ready for work now.”
“Oh, right,” his mom says as she continues to wash up and load the dishwasher.
As she finishes up and grabs her bag, I walk over to say goodbye. “It was so nice to meet you,” I
tell her.
She’s still smiling as she addresses her son. “Daniel, you should join us for dinner.”
Daniel looks at me first. I just shrug because I don’t want to come across as rude.
“Yes!” his mother exclaims as if she’s just proclaimed the most elaborately seamless plan ever.
“Bring her over to the house. That way, she can meet the family, too.”
Daniel’s eyes widen in horror, but he nods, knowing there’s no way out of this one.
“Sure,” I tell her with a smile. “That sounds wonderful. Count us in.”
Daniel’s shoulders relax slightly. I don’t mind coming to his rescue once in a while. Besides, he’s
already been a champ and met my family. Maybe it’s time for me to return the favor and oblige him with a
meeting of his own kind.
After all, if he’s going to be the father of my baby, might as well be on good terms with the
grandparents.
 Daniel


I slam the phone down and swear under my breath. Since arriving at the office, I’ve been stuck with
the receiver to my ear.
The back of my neck is aching, as are my shoulders. Every time I complain about this, my secretary
gives me no sympathy.
She suggested ages ago that I get one of those headsets to save myself from the cramps I get from
squeezing the phone between my head and my shoulder, but I cannot imagine anything worse than having a
phone permanently stuck to my ear.
And so I continue to suffer.
I’ve barely finished the last call to the general manager of one of my resorts when the blasted thing
rings again.
“Hello,” I bark into it, sounding as angry as I feel.
Right now, I curse the person who invented the damn thing. I mean, as far I’m concerned, life would
be a whole lot easier if I could spend less time on the phone.
Perhaps I could disable it? My eyes fall on to the cell phone lying on my desk with three missed
calls and eight text messages.
I roll my eyes.
Perhaps the indicator of how the day was going to pan out had been Mom arriving unannounced and
uninvited at my apartment this morning.
Of course, she’s done it before, many a time, just not ever when I’ve had a woman stay the night.
This might be due to the fact I rarely have a woman stay over. Most of the casual hook-ups don’t
make it back home with me. There’s no way I want them to get too fucking comfortable.
I mean, once I take a girl home, she might get fucking difficult to get rid of again. I’ve heard the
horror stories, read the outlandish claims online.
I’m not falling victim to some gold-digging chick. Nope, not me.
“Oh,” I hear my mother’s voice and regret sounding so harsh. “I though you’d be over the moon.”
I frown. “Why?”
What is she getting at? Does she know something I don’t?
I hear Mom sigh. I hate it when she’s cryptic.
“Did you and Rose have a fight, dear? You seemed to be getting along fabulously this morning…”
She drifts off.
Am I standing on the line or something? What the fuck is my mother talking about now?
“Um, why would we have had a fight? Did she say something to you?”
My mother laughs. “No, sweetheart, she didn’t say anything to me. You both looked happy and
relaxed in each other’s company. I’m surprised the afterglow hasn’t lasted all day with you.”
I sigh. Fucking awkward.
“Tough day in the office, Mom,” I grumble and look at my too weak, too lukewarm pretend double
shot flat white. When my assistant brought it in to me, I asked what she calls this.
“The coffee you ordered,” she replied and was gone before I could say anything else. Without
actually tasting it, I know it’s going to be fucking awful. It looks like dishwashing water.
A coffee bean might have walked past it, but that is incredibly doubtful. How shops get away with
selling this shit as coffee is beyond me.
Mental note to self—make sure office staff never ever buys coffee from where this one came from
again, ever.
“Oh, that’s a shame, darling.” My mother is happily prattling away in my ear. She’ll be happy if she
hears the occasional grunt, yep, or nope. I think my mother could talk under wet cement or water.
“Daniel, are you listening to me?”
Fuck. What did she ask?
“Sorry, Mom,” I mumble. “Had to answer a question from my assistant,” I lie.
“I asked if you like this girl,” Mom repeats her question.
I frown. “Which girl?”
After only two sips, I know this poor excuse for a cup of coffee is undrinkable. As soon as I can,
I’m going to have to get someone to get me something better than this crap.
If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s drinking bad coffee. Life is too short to drink anything but
strong, good quality coffee.
“Do you like Rose?” My mother repeats her question yet again. “Really, Daniel, I don’t know
what’s the matter with you today.”
Interesting question. Do I like Rose?
I love to fuck her.
I like her scent, the perfume she uses, and those eyes.
I like the way she jokes with me and looks at me.
“Yes,” I reply after a brief hesitation. “Yes, Mom, I like Rose.”
Silence.
What happened? Did Mom faint?
“Mom?”
I think I can hear some sobbing. Oh no, fucking hell, please don’t let her cry. Inwardly, I groan.
I shouldn’t have said I like Rose. She’ll be making all kinds of fucking plans now. If I’m not careful
she’ll arrange a wedding, book a baby shower, and celebrate our first anniversary―all in the blink of an
eye.
“Can you bring her to dinner?”
 Phew. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Yeah, sure, I told you we’ll come to dinner.”
My emails on the computer are going bananas. Apparently, several people are in desperate need to
discuss a range of different issues with me, from a blocked toilet, to a cat stuck up in one of the palm trees
of one of our resorts.
I frown. What the fuck am I going to do about a cat stuck in a tree? Why are they bringing this shit to
me?
“Sunday night.”
“Pardon?” That’s right, I’m still talking to my mom. “I’ve got to—” I start but she cuts me off.
“Come to dinner this Sunday night with that lovely girlfriend, Rose.”
I sigh. No point arguing about this. It makes sense for me to introduce Rose to my family, anyway;
I’ve met hers already.
“Promise you’ll come to dinner this Sunday, Daniel. With Rose.” My mother sounds all serious,
and I realize she’s calling me Daniel, not Danny.
“I promise, Mom, but I’ve got to get back to work now.”
After she’s hung up, I stare at the wall of messages and try and work out which one is the most
important. I decide the cat one is the least important, and it goes to the bottom of the list.
But before I make the next work call, I better attend to something else. I pick up my phone.
“Hey, darling,” I say with a smile.
“Oh, hello there, handsome,” Rose replies, and I picture her sitting at her desk.
I wish she were here in the office with me. Perhaps I should see if I can find a job for her with me
here.
Of course, I’m sort of getting her a job by doing this whole pregnancy thing. I know we’ve not
discussed it since agreeing to getting to know each other, but we both know the end goals was―is―a
baby.
“I just got off the phone with my mom,” I tell her.
“Good for you. She okay?”
I chuckle. “She’s fine. She was reminding me about the dinner she mentioned when she was at the
penthouse. She wants us to come to their house this Sunday.”
There’s silence. I have no fucking idea what I’m going to do if she backs out now that she isn’t
being put on the spot by my mom.
“Okay, sounds good,” Rose replies, and she sounds quite cheerful.
“You sure?” I double check. I don’t want her to do it because she feels obliged.
“Absolutely. I mean, your mom and I are practically best friends already after this morning,” she
jokes and I hear her laughter. The sound is music to my ears.
“Great,” I reply and play with my gold-tip fountain pen. I need to end the conversation, but I don’t
want to get off the phone with her yet.
After cursing the little device earlier, now I’m enjoying talking to Rose.
“I better get back to work,” Rose announces, but I just thought of something.
“Shall we make a day of it, and I’ll pick you up?”
“I can’t leave until later in the afternoon. I’ve got a busy week ahead and need to finish everything
by the end of the week. Sorry.”
I wish we could spend the day together, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
“No worries, Rose. Make sure you look after yourself and eat properly and don’t work too hard.”
“You’re starting to sound like my boyfriend,” Rose observes, a smile in her voice.
“Isn’t that what I am, your boyfriend?”
Instead of a reply, Rose laughs and then she’s gone.
Isn’t that what I am―her boyfriend? An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. Maybe we
better talk about where we’re heading.
And soon.
Before I can pick up the phone and start returning these calls, my secretary buzzes me.
“What is it now?” I bark into the receiver and notice it’s nearly lunchtime. After this call, I think
I’ll head out for lunch.
Since I’ve not had a proper cup of coffee this morning, I’ll need to have two with lunch.
“Sorry to disturb you, but I have someone on the phone who says they need to speak to you
urgently.”
I roll my eyes. I’ve tried to train my secretary to give me all the information there is when she tells
me about a caller, but clearly this has not sunk in yet.
“And who might this person be who needs to speak to me so urgently?”
“Sorry, sir, it’s a woman called Maggie.”
The only object on the desk is my cup of coffee, and so I take it and fling it across the room.
It lands against the blank wall with a little thud. Liquid splatters over the wall and onto the carpet. I
don’t fucking care.
“I’m not available to speak to her. I will never be available to speak to this woman ever. If she
calls again, don’t bother putting the call through to me.”
I slam the phone down and clench my fists. Slowly, I try and count to one hundred. I’ll need to bring
my raging thoughts under control quickly.
When I’m still super fucking enraged by the time I’ve counted to four hundred and fifty, I decide I
better go for a walk and get my flat white now.
I’m sure a walk and a good cup of coffee will put me into a better frame of mind.
 Rose


For some reason, the butterflies won’t go away. They’ve taken up residence in my stomach and
refuse to move out. If anything, they’re multiplying.
I knead my fingers in my lap and stare out the window of Daniel’s car. Maybe it’s the big billboard
staring at me from various buildings―the smiling mom and baby tugging at my heartstrings as a permanent
reminder that I’m not getting any younger.
Then there’s the ad for some retirement plan, asking if the timeline is being met. It’s one of those
obtuse marketing strategies where the consumer is not actually sure what’s being advertised. It might just
be me, but I don’t get the ad at all.
The only thing it does to me is remind me of the timeline I have with Daniel.
Okay, so we don’t actually have a timeline, and maybe that’s the actual problem.
When we first started on this road to get to know each other before we made a baby bargain, we
should have discussed a time frame. Would the get-to-know-each-other phase last one month, two months,
or three?
I mean, some people spend years getting to know each other only to find out when they’re old and
gray that they’re not compatible. With the biological clock ticking, I don’t have that luxury.
And, let’s face it, if he’s still not sure if we should go ahead, it won’t be different in a month, a
year, or ten.
God, in ten years I won’t be fertile anymore, I’m sure of it.
He’s not going to wait that long to make up his mind, is he? I gnaw on my bottom lip and shoot him
the occasional sideways glance. His jawline is relaxed, and there’s a little twinkle in his eyes.
What’s stopping him? Second or third thoughts? Maybe he never meant to go through with it
anyway?
I mean, this might be just a way for him to get a free fuck. The thought is absurd, I know. I’ve read
the websites, the social media accounts, and all the other crap where women drool over the man and can’t
wait to jump his bones and have his baby.
Okay, so he’s not doing it for the sex, I get it.
“Ready, darling?” His soft voice rouses me from my meandering thoughts.
I look around.
He’s parked the car outside a nice, colonial-style two-story home. A magnificent garden with a
white pebble path stretches out ahead of me.
I see roses, marigolds, purple flowers, and something that looks like daffodils. It’s a feast for the
eyes.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I make myself smile. Now is not the time to ask about the timeline.
 I can imagine his face if I brought it up now, outside his mother’s house.
“So, Daniel how about that timeline?” I’d ask. “Are you ready to have that baby yet? And has
your lawyer drawn up the contract yet? I mean, we want to make sure we document it all and prepare
for any eventuality.”
With a shake of my head, I dismiss such crazy ideas. But seriously, would there really be a
contract? It might be a good idea, right?
What if I have the baby and, for some reason, it’s not good enough for him? What if he changes his
mind just before I give birth?
“So, Rose.” He turns to me as the midwife tells me to push. “I don’t think this is a good idea.
And if you don’t mind, I’ll leave you and the…” He hesitates as he stares at my stretching pussy, “baby
to it.”
I’d be left giving birth, with a baby tied to me 24/7.
The thoughts are ridiculous, I know, and I do my best to focus on what Daniel is saying.
He takes me by the hand and leads me up the garden path. Before he gets a chance to ring the
doorbell, it opens to reveal a tall dark-haired man standing there.
“Hey, Ruben.” Daniel waves a hand in my direction. “Rose, I’d like you to meet my most recent
step-father, Ruben.”
Most recent?
I shake his hand. He has a strong grip.
“Finally, I get to meet the girl who’s stolen my son’s heart.” He takes me by the shoulders and peers
at me, and I notice Daniel cringe at the word son. “I can see why. You certainly do your name justice, my
dear.”
My cheeks color a little, I’m sure of it. I mumble a thank you and we step inside.
“Right on time for dinner, you two. Punctual as ever, dear boy. You’re making your mother proud.”
Something tugs at my heart as Daniel takes my hand and leads me inside.
Is it sadness that this might not be real? That I’m going to dinner with his family, and it could all be
a charade? Am I…falling for Daniel?
I shake my head. Whoa, Rose. Get a grip, babe. A business arrangement—it’s only a business
arrangement with Daniel. Don’t go falling in love with him now.
“So, Daniel, tells me you’re a retired lawyer.” I look at Ruben. “Sounds like interesting work.”
His step-father winks at me. “It can be. Trials can be very stressful, but you also get to meet a lot of
colorful people.”
“Ruben represented someone once in a defamation case,” Daniel pipes up.
“Some judge—no names shall be mentioned—had the misfortune of having a nasty neighbor. And
one morning, when the dear judge stepped outside his mansion to pick up the newspaper, he saw a huge
sign on his front lawn saying ‘Mr. and Mrs. Asshat live here.’”
 “No way.” I shake my head.
“Anyway, the dear judge sued the sign writer for defamation.”
“Wow. What happened?”
Ruben claps his hands together. “There was a four-day trial and, in the end, the poor judge lost. It
was held that sharing your opinion about someone is not defamation.”
“You’re not boring our guest with legal war stories dear, are you?” Daniel’s mom comes out of one
of the rooms to greet us.
“I’m not bored,” I reassure her and return her greeting.
“Let’s eat,” she says anyway.
Dinner is amazing. Daniel’s mom is an awesome cook, which is a surprise, given the few things
he’s mentioned about her being more about shopping than mothering. Though, after that breakfast the other
day, it shouldn’t be.
“Has Daniel told you about the time he kept a spider as a pet?”
I shake my head.
“Daniel used to be mad about insects,” his mom tells me. “And he’d go around the house collecting
spiders. Of course, he’d get terribly upset when one of his sisters would throw out the glasses with his
pets still inside.”
Daniel rolls his eyes.
“I haven’t heard much about these sisters,” I admit.
“Step-sisters,” Daniel corrects. “Fendi, Prada, and Chanel.”
I shake my head, trying hard not to burst out laughing. No fucking way.
Daniel leans over and whispers, “I’ll tell you later.”
His mom chimes in. “Oh, you don’t know about the girls? Why, Daniel, we’ll have to do this again
and make sure they’re all here.”
“What’re you trying to do? Scare Rose off?”
I laugh. “Oh, come on, they can’t be that bad.” I give him a little kiss on the cheek. “I’d love to meet
the rest of the family.”
He gives me a crooked smile. “You say that now…”
When dinner is finished, I offer to help clear the table, but Daniel’s mom is firm and insists I stay
put, waving her hand. “Oh, we have help for that.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing again. This family is so far removed from anything I’ve ever
known. They definitely aren’t like my own.
We enjoy dessert and cocktails, and, after a few hours, I’m exhausted.
“Do you want to stay the night?” asks Daniel when he sees me yawn.
I hesitate for a second or two before I shake my head. “I’ve got a lot going on at work tomorrow
and need to be there bright and early.”
 There’s something in his eyes that I can’t quite put my finger on.
Disappointment? I can’t tell. But since it’s a long drive home, I know we better return tonight.
I don’t want to get up in the early hours of the morning and be exhausted from the drive before I
even start my workday.
I’m sure he understands. But that look of disappointment, if that’s what it was, has me wondering
all over again just what the status of our relationship is. We’re going to have to have The Talk―and soon.
 Daniel


By the time we finally say our farewells, it’s late.
Rose snuggles into her seat and smiles. She waves goodbye as I pull the car out into the street.
“You were a real hit,” I say, feeling incredibly proud.
I never knew how important it was to me that my mom likes the girl I bring home. And not only
does she like Rose―she adores her.
Rose seems to have no trouble at all communicating with one of the most important people in my
life, even if Mom does drive me bat-shit crazy most of the time.
So far, Rose has only put her best foot forward. In everything.
“Dinner was lovely,” she says and yawns. I resist the temptation to stare as her beautiful eyes start
to close.
I feel a little guilty for the late night she’s had, seeing she’s got a hard day at work ahead. Next time,
I’ll have to check with Rose about the schedule of future dinners and parties.
I turn on gentle and soothing music as her breathing slows and steadies. I’m pretty sure she’s
already asleep.
I hum to the music and give my thoughts free rein. Rose certainly is becoming part of my life. She
seems to fit in nicely—perfectly, really.
I like her company, her wit, her intelligence, and, of course, the way she fucks.
I sigh.
Why have I let it come to this? I mean, we really need to sit down and discuss the arrangement in
more detail. I can’t understand why we haven’t yet.
Has she not raised it again because she’s changed her mind? But if so, why is she still spending
time with me? Going to dinner with my family, no less?
It nags at me. If she hasn’t changed her mind, why hasn’t she raised the matter again?
Thoughts spin around my head like flies trapped in a can, unable to find their way out.
Daniel, I tell myself, this is fucking useless.
What I need to do is talk to her about this.
Exactly how I’m going to raise it, though, is beyond me. Do I do it in the office or over dinner?
Suddenly, I’m not quite sure anymore what to do or how to say it.
This is fucking ridiculous. I’m getting really fucking pissed with myself now. I don’t have trouble
with anything. Okay, okay, maybe there’s one thing I have a bit of a problem with, but generally when it
comes to dealing with people, I’m a fucking expert.
I run a multi-million-dollar business. I manage a range of staff members, from the top to the bottom.
Surely, it can’t be that hard to sit down with Rose and discuss our business arrangement.
 At the words business and arrangement, I feel a little uneasy. Could having a baby with a woman
really fall into this category?
I’m not having second thoughts at all; it’s just that I’m no longer sure what to call it. Rose might not
like it if I call it a business arrangement, and I wouldn’t fucking blame her.
Babies are people. They’re flesh and blood and crying and all sorts of things. Business is
something else entirely.
By now, I’m drumming my fingers on the steering wheel.
Could I put it a little more delicately, along the lines of our…mutual interest?
Yes, mutual interest already sounds a lot better and seems to hit the mark. I mean, I’d like an heir,
and she’d like a baby.
I let myself imagine how our conversation could go.
“Rose, it’s about time we talk about the finer details of our mutual interest.”
Or is it a project? ‘Project’ doesn’t sound too bad, either.
“Rose, how about we sit down and discuss our joint project? It’s about time we work out the
finer details.”
I cringe. Would she slap me in the face? Probably.
Or would she just stare at me and say something like, Okay, but what are you going to do about
your condom problem?
She would, of course, be right on the money. It’s the elephant in the room. Oh, sure, I’ve told her
about the difficulty, but we haven’t really talked about solutions.
I know all too well—there won’t be a baby, a joint project, if I can’t fuck her without the latex.
I run my hand through my hair.
Suddenly, the weight of the world seems to rest on my shoulders. After I drop Rose at her place, I
think I’ll go home and have a stiff a drink. Nothing wrong with drowning my sorrows from time to time.
Of course, Rose said she’d do anything to help, but the problem is I don’t really know what else to
try. So far, nothing has worked.
There’s some incoherent mumbling from Rose, and I glance at her. She’s still asleep, muttering
something I can’t understand.
When I pull up outside her place, she opens her eyes and yawns.
She looks delicious enough to eat.
“Here already?” Catlike, she stretches in the seat.
“Yep.”
“Do you want to come in and stay the night?”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Her words are fucking music to my ears. She wasn’t busting at the
seams to get away from me and spend time on her own after, all.
“Love to,” I say and jump out to go and open her door. I feel so elated I’m tempted to pick her up
and carry her to the front door.
Suddenly, I know we’ll work it out. We’ll find the right words to talk about it, both the project and
my tiny problem.
After all, a problem shared is a problem solved.
 Rose


I slam the door to my apartment shut and pull Daniel against me. It’s as if I’m possessed. I need to
feel him, his naked skin, and his massive member. I’m cock-hungry.
I’ve never been forward like this, but something happened tonight while we were having dinner
with his family.
Okay, maybe nothing happened, but right now, I need to feel his mouth on mine, his cock in my
pussy, and our naked hot bodies entwined.
To my utter relief, he doesn’t push me away. Instead, he crushes his lips against mine.
I moan, my fingers already fumbling with the zipper of his pants.
His hands have gotten rid of my top already and are now pushing my skirt down. Thank goodness I
live alone.
If someone else lived here, I couldn’t have this freedom of ripping a man’s clothes off by my door.
Imagine a roommate walking in on us naked. I cringe inwardly at the thought.
Finally, I’ve managed to undo his jeans as well, and my fingers fumble for his massive cock, hard
and straining for my touch.
When I feel it, my heart beat increases a little. Joy seeps through my bones. I can’t explain it, but
it’s almost as if I’ve developed an addiction for his cock.
I need to feel it, to squeeze and knead it with my fingers.
He helps me push down his pants, and we stumble in the dark into my living room. Luckily, my
apartment is the size of a can of sardines so there’s not much margin for error.
If we were in his penthouse right now, we could end up anywhere. With a crash, we land on my old
over-used couch. He ends up beneath me.
“Did you eat oysters or something?” Daniel chuckles, and I giggle.
“And what if I did?”
“You should have shared,” he complains, resting his hands on my ass.
I push my pussy toward his pulsing cock.
“In my defense, I didn’t know you like oysters,” I counter.
My pussy is throbbing, and I’m getting ready to push into him when Daniel changes our positions.
Actually, he pushes me off the couch so I land on the floor.
“Sorry, love,” he apologizes. “I thought there was more room.”
I giggle like a silly teenager.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say I had too much champagne tonight, but I only had the one glass. Then
why am I acting so strange? It’s not like me at all to take the lead when it comes to sex.
Must be his charm and open manner.
 I struggle to get to my hands and knees. I see him crawl to his pants. What is he doing?
I decide to follow him anyway.
If someone were to see us, we’d certainly look strange. Two adults crawling like babies on the
floor.
“Are you practicing your crawling skills already?” I joke and watch him turn to face me again.
“Maybe,” Daniel replies, and I think he’s grinning. “Race you back to the couch. Winner gets to
decide how to fuck first.”
Man, oh man. A challenge, a race. You’re on, buddy.
I start, but misjudge my movement and tumble over my own hands. I dive headfirst onto the ground.
Ouch.
I think I might have a bit of carpet burn on my chin. I see Daniel getting ahead.
I feel like the snail in that kids’ movie, what was his name again? Derby, Ferby? No.
Turbo! That’s it.
With renewed vigor, I get back on all fours and make a last-ditch effort to beat Daniel to the couch.
“I win,” shouts my man, lifting his hands in a victory salute.
I collapse with laughter on the floor. His hands reach for me and gently pull me toward him.
“You cheated,” I say, huffing. “And you know what? Any gentleman would let the lady win.”
His hands are now all over me.
“Good thing I’m no gentleman then, isn’t it?”
His lips join his hands. There’s an urgency there I haven’t felt before. First, he assaults my left tit
and then my right. A hand rests on my hips and another plays with my clit.
The cocktail of sensations sends electric shock waves through me. Wow.
I arch my pelvis to meet him and try to stroke that cock of his with my fingers. To my utter
disappointment, he’s out of reach.
After a while, Daniel straddles me. He sits on my lower half and leaves his hands on my breasts.
Like a skilled artist, he rolls my nipples between his fingers before pulling and pinching them with
intensity. The motion sends thrills of pleasure shooting through me.
And yet, all I can think of is having his cock inside of me.
With all the attention he’s giving me, it feels as if my body is melting onto the floor.
“Please, Daniel,” I whisper. “Fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me.”
He leans down and kisses me. “Really?”
His lips crush mine, and I push my tongue deep into him. At the same time, I move my pelvis
beneath him.
This is fucking amazing. I feel alive, and I want to take control. I can’t explain it, but ever since
dinner, I’ve been dying to get my hands all over him.
Perhaps, listening to all those stories about him made me horny. And fuck, I’m horny.
 I’m so wet and ready I think I might explode. If he doesn’t enter me soon—like right fucking now—
I swear I won’t be responsible for my actions.
I’m not quite sure what I’ll do, but I’ll do something. I suppose I could always threaten him, beg
him, or just push him off me so I can get on top of him. Easier said than done, of course.
For the last few minutes, I’ve been writhing beneath his weight, trying to move so his cock will
enter my pussy—all to no avail.
Why is he torturing me like this? Doesn’t he want to fuck me as badly as I want to fuck him?
My thoughts go all over the place, but I rein them in. No point going overboard with overanalyzing
each and every one of his movements.
And then, I feel him lift off me a little so that he could finally thrust into my waiting pussy.
Yessssss.
I can see stars in front of my eyes, and fireworks explode in my head. But if I was hoping for a hard
and fast fuck, I’m mistaken.
Daniel has entered me, and now he’s just staying where he is, deep inside of my pussy.
“I read somewhere that a true union of man and woman is when the man’s cock enters the woman’s
pussy and then just stays there.”
“Are you being serious right now?” The light isn’t bright enough for me to see his facial expression
properly so I can’t work out if he’s fucking with me or not.
I feel his warm breath against my neck as his lips brush against my burning skin.
Flames engulf me, heat spreading through me. I feel my own hips push upward against Daniel as his
cock continues to swell inside of me.
“It’s true,” he whispers and continues with the butterfly kisses.
“And you’ve tried this?” I ask, not sure what to make of this.
I want him to fuck me. I want him to pummel into me like there’s no tomorrow. Yet he seems content
just to be inside me.
“Of course not. I haven’t tried it before.”
“Sounds kind of…” I try and think of the right words. “Sounds like the kind of sex you have after
you’ve had a good fuck,” I finish eventually.
“Okay, you win.”
And without another word, Daniel starts to fuck me. At first he’s nice and slow, taking his time. But
it doesn’t take long for him to increase his speed and rhythm.
I dig my fingers into his back and meet him with each thrust.
Finally, he’s fucking me the way I’ve wanted to be fucked since we came inside.
I feel like I’m floating on clouds, weightless.
His hands are back on my tits, and I love the sound his balls make as they slap against my naked
flesh just below my pussy.
 A flicker deep inside me grows, and I can feel my muscles contracting. At the same time, Daniel is
starting to shiver.
I think he’s getting ready to unleash a huge load into his condom.
The walls of my pussy grab his cock with each thrust, massaging it, milking and squeezing. As he’s
building to his orgasm, his already massive cock swells and expands even more inside me.
My pussy tingles, and I know there’s no stopping now.
I erupt, like a volcano filled. There’s no way I can put a coherent thought together now. All I can do
is revel in the exquisite sensation of pleasure, lust, and desire.
Daniel comes at the same time, and I feel him pulsing inside me. Wave after wave of pleasure
washes over us both as we come together. He stays in me, even when his orgasm is finished.
“I fucking swear, Rose,” he says into my ear, “we must try that other way one day as well.”
I nod, my fingers drawing circles on his back. I don’t care what we do, as long as it involves his
cock inside of my pussy.
 Daniel


This girl is full of pleasant surprises. The drive home had seemed extra long because of my navel-
gazing. The longer I pondered the problems we had, the more convinced I had become she was no longer
interested in our original agreement.
Of course, I have no idea why she’s still hanging in there, if that’s the case.
A gold digger she’s not, I know that much.
And then just as I’m getting ready for the huge fucking rejection, she invites me to the stay the night
at her place.
The fuck we just had was unbelievable.
What can I say? I know one thing for sure, my choice to have her as mother for my heir has been
fucking prefect.
I’ve never met another chick like her. She’s full of surprises, and I just love being with her.
Of course, as I pull out of her, I can see her eyes magically drawn to my latex covered dick. Like
bees to honey, her eyes are on the condom.
I sigh and attend to discarding it.
“Let me see,” I say when I return to her and kneel in front of her. “I’m sure there’s a little matter I
need to attend to here.”
My hands are rubbing along her thigh, with my thumbs caressing the inside of them.
Rose says nothing.
Slowly, I massage those legs.
“I guess you deserve a little reward for being a super well-behaved girlfriend tonight.”
I watch her expression. She’s smiling, but not taking issue with the girlfriend comment.
Good.
“I didn’t disgrace you then? Or dishonor the family name?” she asks.
I laugh out loud.
“Hardly.” I lean forward to plant a little kiss on her pussy. She’s so fucking wet. Her juices are
flowing, and I know just how to treat her.
It takes no effort at all to spread her legs further apart. In fact, I pull her into a lying position and
drape her legs over my shoulders.
Her ass is on the edge of the couch, and her pussy in the perfect position for me to tongue-fuck her.
“I like your mom,” Rose replies, and I stop any further conversation about my fucking mother by
burying my face in her pubic hair. My tongue finds her clit and the opening of her fucking wet pussy.
She gasps when I flick my tongue across her weak spot. Her ass lifts off the couch a little, and I use
this opportunity to grab onto those fleshy ass cheeks.
 “Oh, Daaaaannniiiiiieeeel,” she squeals and thrusts her pelvis upward to meet my probing tongue.
Instead of pushing deep into her, I explore the outer perimeter, taking extra care not to miss
anything.
A combination of moans, groans and yelps escape her lips. Most of what she says is
undistinguishable.
But, judging from what I can understand and her very wet pussy, I think I’m on the right path to give
back for what she put in tonight.
It’s never easy to meet the parents of your new partner. Of course, we’re not dating or anything, but
the future in-laws don’t know this, and I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Rose.
I myself was very apprehensive when I met her family. What’s more, I met most of her family at a
gathering.
Rose only had to meet Mom and Ruben, which might make it worse. I’m not sure which way is
better.
Small and intimate, which means of course you are examined by two people through a magnifying
glass, each and every action and reaction examined in fine detail and later discussed ad nauseam?
Or meeting the entire clan during a family gathering, where chances are you’re just one of many and
so no one will pay you much attention?
Perhaps I should have made it easy for Rose and introduced her to them at a family function.
Unfortunately, none come to mind.
Anyway, no point overthinking the matter. What’s done is done.
As Rose’s pussy starts to tighten, I go deeper into her. She’s so wet now, some of her juices are
dripping down my chin.
I change position with my hands. Reluctantly, I pull them off her ass and move them toward her
pussy.
Here, I use my thumbs to push against her clit. It’s only a little bit of pressure, but the desired effect
is achieved. I can feel her quiver underneath my touch.
Like an arrow about to be nocked into a bow, her body is tense as I continue to assault her pussy
with my tongue and fingers.
“Fuuuuuuuccccckkkkkk,” she yelps, and I hope she’s not ready to come already.
I want her to enjoy this, draw it out as long as possible.
To see how she’s faring, I pull my face out of her and catch her eye. She’s lost in some place in
another galaxy far, far, away.
My tongue can still taste the saltiness of her pussy. She’s fucking delicious. I can’t get enough of
her.
With renewed vigor, I go back to pushing my tongue into that pussy of hers as far as it will go. My
mouth now covers her mound, and I start to suck on it.
 Rose is thrusting her hip up toward me and is bucking with each inward thrust.
I guess if she’s going to come, nothing I can do about it.
I focus on my rhythm and speed. In and out my tongue darts, and I can feel my own cock throb and
pulse and beg to be part of the action.
As I’m sucking and licking, I can feel Rose tense beneath me before exploding in a fountain of
pleasure.
The walls of her pussy try to grab my tongue and squeeze it. But I pull out before they can.
When Rose’s body finally stops convulsing I pull out my tongue and look at her.
“Now,” I ask, “how’re you feeling?
Rose shrugs. “Okay, I guess.”
“Okay, I guess?” I try and sound calmer than I feel. “What kind of an answer is that? Okay?”
The football match can be okay, or the weather, as can the snowfall and the amount of rain we’ve
had―but it seems a strange way to describe how you’re feeling after such an intense personal experience.
Is she alright? I peer at her and her push a stray hair behind her ears.
Maybe something is bothering her? Was it the fact we’ve not had any further discussion about our
arrangement, or something else? She could of course be concerned about the condom problem, or her
work?
Let’s face it, at any given point in time, several things can be on our mind. We human beings are
complex things.
I doubt many of us can ever just be in the moment. And no doubt Rose right now is thinking about
multiple things.
Guilt seeps through me. Okay, so I should be raising the subject of our joint project, but I doubt
now is the right time.
With a sigh, I accept there may never be the right time. Something will always be in the way or just
happened to make it awkward to discuss a topic as deep and serious as having a baby together.
“What can I do to make you feel on top of the world?” I change my tactic.
This way she’ll have to tell me what’s troubling her. Reverse psychology. Instead of asking what’s
wrong, I’m asking what I can do to improve things.
“I’d really like something to drink,” replies Rose and stands up.
I’m taken by surprise. I had not expected this or seen it coming.
“You want something?” she calls over her shoulder, and I follow her every movement as she moves
naked through her apartment.
Moonbeams come in through the gaps in the curtains and throw a magical light over Rose. As I’m
staring at her, I can almost believe she’s a fairy. Now, that would make life a little more interesting,
wouldn’t it?
Mom, meet my fairy girlfriend.
 Inwardly, I chuckle at my own joke.
“Sure,” I call back. “What’re you having?”
“I’ve got a rose in the fridge I thought might go nicely with some chocolate. Food and drink for the
soul,” explains Rose as she returns with both those things.
She invites me to pour the light pink liquid, and I watch her break the chocolate into smaller pieces.
Chocolate.
I take a piece and rub it over her nipples.
She shrieks. “It’s sticky,” she announces, and I bend forward to lick it off. Then I pick up my wine
glass and propose a toast.
“To Rose and chocolate,” I raise my glass.
She giggles but copies me. We utter the same words at the same time.
After I swallow my sip, I turn to Rose.
“Not a bad drop. Now where were we?”
I lean into her to kiss her, bringing her into submission, and she melts into me, offering no
resistance.
 Rose


I feel as if I’m drowning, and only Daniel’s lips are able to save me. All of me clings to him, and
almost of its own volition, my body presses into his, seeking out his nakedness.
When or where I’ve had this significant change in personality, I don’t know.
What I do know is a few weeks ago, before Daniel fucked me, I was nothing like this.
If I believed in fairytales, I’d say some witch has cast a spell over me and turned me into a sex-
crazed being.
I guess I should be happy about this development, being turned into a sex addict. I mean, it could be
worse; she could have turned me into a frog, a donkey, or―horror of horrors―a fly. Witches usually do
that sort of stuff. They turn you into something ugly, tiny, or useless.
Just think about being turned into a fly. There’s nothing more annoying, other than maybe a
mosquito, than a fly which seems to have no purpose on earth whatsoever.
Flies just buzz around aimlessly and land on humans for no other reason than to be a pain in the ass.
What the fuck am I thinking? There’s no witch, no fairytale. Let’s face it, if there is a fairytale,
Daniel would have talked to me about the arrangement by now, the one where he wants me to have his
baby.
“I know what we should do,” murmurs Daniel in my ear, and I’m dragged out of my navel gazing. I
smile at him.
“And that would be?” I take a sip of my wine.
“Melt the chocolate.” He kisses me on the tip of my nose and heads for the kitchen.
I’m not exactly sure what he’s doing, so I follow.
His shadow falls across the floor, and I can see his massive member sticking straight up in the air.
It didn’t take him long to get hard again. Briefly, I wonder if he’s brought a spare condom, but then
push the thought aside.
Daniel randomly opens cupboards and drawers until he finds what he’s looking for.
Instead of offering to help, I stand behind him and use my hands to explore his body. I push against
his strong abs and let my fingers crawl lower. Since the tip of his dick is pointing in the direction of my
traveling hands, it doesn’t take long for me to touch him.
I encircle the tip of his cock with my fingers before I wrap my hand around him.
He quivers at my touch. Gently, I squeeze him before I take my hand away altogether to watch in
fascination as his cock tries to follow my fingers.
It occurs to me how powerful a woman’s touch can be. I can make his cock dance to the tunes of my
fingers.
I can’t stand it anymore, my insides are burning with desire, so I slide down onto my knees and
around his front.
Now, his delicious cock is at eye level. I lick my lips, and I watch in enthrallment as his love rod
bends toward my mouth.
I poke my tongue out and lick its tip. He tastes salty, manly, and full of sexual power. My pussy
contracts and demands that I let him enter me again. But right now, I want to suck every last drop of cum
from him.
“Roooseee,” Daniel moans and stops what he’s doing. “I—” But further words are cut off when my
mouth cups his tip and sucks on it.
As if I’ve got a candy in my mouth, I lick and suck and lick again. Each time, he swells a little more
in me.
I watch his hands grab the kitchen counter for support. It’s a bit cramped, and I pull off of him.
“Why don’t you…” I start, but Daniel’s already half turned away from me, so his back is now
against the cupboard, and I can comfortably move to be in front of him.
My hands rub his abdomen and then find his balls, as my mouth continues to tease.
He’s bucking against my face, trying hard to push all the way into me, but I’ve got my ways to make
the most of this.
Briefly, I pull off of him altogether and grin.
“Fucking little slut, you can’t just tease me like that,” he growls and tries to force my mouth open.
“Getting a little impatient, are we?” I laugh and blow him a little kiss on the tip again.
I watch as goosebumps form on his leg and tummy. I repeat this action, and his dick bounces up and
down in search for the source of pleasure.
My eyes glisten with excitement. I never knew I had so much power in my mouth.
Slowly, I run my tongue along his shaft all the way to the base. Here, I circle him before coming
back up on a different spot. His cock’s vibrating like crazy. I hold onto it with one hand and then repeat
the action.
After a few minutes of licking him all over, I finally open my mouth and take all of him in. I don’t
know if he’s ten inches or twelve. All I know is he’s huge and goes nearly all the way down my throat.
For a moment, I wonder if I might gag, but it doesn’t take long at all for me to adjust. A little tilt of
my head back and, bingo, he’s all the way in, and I can start bobbing up and down on him.
I start slow and gentle. My hands are now attending to his balls. Like an expert juggler, I roll them
around and squeeze them before releasing them. When my mouth hits the base, I let my tongue dart out and
lick him there.
It doesn’t take long for Daniel to feel as if he’s going to come sooner rather than later, I’m certain.
I slow right down. In fact, I let him pop out of me with a loud smack.
“Fucking little slut, what are you doing to me?”
Instead of a reply, I nip the tip of his dick and then lick it. I want to see how far I can take things.
 “Little fucking slut,” he groans but pushes toward me. Clearly, he wants more. And lucky for him, I
can deliver.
Another nip, another lick, another suck. I repeat this a few times. By now my own pussy is so
fucking ready, I think I may just have an orgasm from pleasuring him. My nipples are rock hard and dying
for some attention.
Finally, I leave my lips wrapped around him and suck as hard as I can. I increase my rhythm and
speed and feel his cock throb and grow and thicken impossibly larger.
And then his whole body stiffens, and I know he’s going to come. But instead of coming in my
mouth, he pulls out of me and pushes my head back. I’m too surprised to resist.
Seconds later, his cock erupts fountain-like, and he sprays cum all over me. It lands on my face, my
eyes, my neck, my chest, and even my belly.
I open my mouth a little and catch some of it as he sprays his juices all over me. Some of it lands on
my eyelashes, and I look at him through a haze of cream-colored cum.
When he’s finally finished, he leans forward and wipes my eyes with his fingers. Then he holds it
in front of my face. I lick it clean.
“Now.” He reaches behind him, and I see him take a bowl from the bench. With it in hand, he bends
down in front of me.
Mesmerized, I watch him dip his finger in and come out with melted chocolate. He smears it over
me, on my nipples, and down my chest―and a tiny blob goes onto my pussy.
“Fuck,” I moan and lean back against the door of the cupboard.
Then I feel his tongue dart across me start cleaning me.
My body feels as if it’s standing in flames. Wherever he roams, he leaves a trail of burning desire. I
fear this might be too much for me.
There’s a growing throbbing in my pussy, and I feel like jumping up and pushing myself down on
his dick.
I know he’s ready again. I can tell from the way it’s springing back to life.
Daniel has removed all the chocolate from my tits, nipples, and belly. He’s moving to my pussy.
His tongue darts over my clit and moves from side to side. I’m sure the chocolate is long gone, but
he continues his assault.
I throw my head back and my hips upwards. His hands pushes against me. And then he’s gone.
Emptiness grabs me and threatens to choke me.
What the…?
I stare at the spot where seconds ago he’d been kneeling. Did I miss something?
As my mind starts processing what has happened, he’s back.
Realization dawns.
With one quick movement, he’s pulled me off the floor and pushed against the wall. His cock is in
me before I can come to terms with the cocktail of emotions.
With hard, fast thrusts, he pummels into me, and I can feel my orgasm build already. His hands are
on my tits and mine are on his ass.
I push myself against him as he fucks me standing in my own kitchen.
The world starts to spin, and my body fills with molten chocolate. Each of my pores is filled with
ecstasy as he pummels his way toward another orgasm.
When I come, I come so hard I fear I might pass out. I start seeing stars, and my fingernails dig into
his fleshy but firm ass.
He’s not far behind me and erupts in his own orgasm.
When we’ve both finished riding our wave of pleasure, we collapse on a heap on the floor of the
kitchen.
“If we’re not careful, we’ll be thrown out with the trash.” I chuckle and return his kiss.
 Daniel


Walking into the office isn’t something I ordinarily enjoy.
While I’m doing it, the last thing I’m usually thinking about is what happened the night before, even
if what happened the night before happened with an especially sexy woman.
Just like in Las Vegas—what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom, and work, well, it’s
work.
Yet what I’m thinking about right now, arriving at the office, are Rose’s cinnamon eyes, and the way
they looked—not as we were making earth-shattering love, but afterwards.
She smiled during our conversation. I can’t remember the words, but I can remember the feeling.
It’s the same feeling I have right now, walking into work.
“What are you smiling at?” my secretary asks.
“Why, I’m not smiling at anything,” I reply.
She chortles a little bit. “Okay, why are you smiling then?” she clarifies.
“Because it’s a beautiful day, that’s why.”
She lets her snicker turn into a full-on laugh. “Um...okay, then.”
One of those things that I keep hearing over and over in my life is that if you just smile all the time,
people will appreciate it. Not my secretary, maybe, but you may actually find people smiling back.
If the smile is genuine, that is; otherwise, you may end up confusing everyone—or possibly just
creeping them out.
But apart from my secretary, the few people I pass on my way to the office, even those I just see
from the corner of my eye, are all smiling back. That’s nice and all, but I’m not thinking about them.
I’m still thinking about last night.
Great fucking sex is just that—great fucking sex. But I’m thinking about everything after that. Rose,
her eyes, and that feeling...it’s still there, as strong as ever.
And it feels nice. That’s the word. Nice.
That word often doesn’t seem strong enough, but I feel like this is a new meaning for nice. This
feeling, this nice feeling that I want to hold onto...I don’t want it to fade.
I know it can’t stay like this—at this level of nice—forever, but I want it to be the foundation for
the rest of my life.
For a family with Rose, with the mother of my future children.
There’s that feeling again, and it feels nice. It’s the perfect word, really, and it’s why I’m smiling
right now.
Those words Rose and I exchanged last night—although I still cannot remember them exactly— I
know we were talking about the future.
 About a family.
It was nice, and we shared that feeling.
That’s what I’m feeling now, and I hope that Rose feels it, too.
I can’t imagine that she’s not. Even if she isn’t, surely, she must be thinking about what a great time
we had. I mean, we’ve had some good times, but that was something fucking else.
I feel so nice that, when my phone starts buzzing the moment I’m alone in my office, I don’t even get
a little bit annoyed. Usually, that’s the type of thing that makes me swear under my breath, but right now,
I’m still smiling.
I check my phone to see a reminder: Dinner with Rose tonight. Make sure to go get her. My smile
gets even bigger as I think about that song.
You have found her, now go and get her.
I feel like I’ve got her already, but I’ll go get her again for dinner tonight.
I start humming the old song to myself when I sit down at my desk. Old music’s the type of thing that
used to scare me. I tried to stay away from it, wanting to stay young and modern.
But if I want to keep going in this world, I can’t avoid growing old eventually.
It’s something that doesn’t seem as terrifying as it used to be, because now it seems—well, you
guessed it—nice.
“Hey, Mr. Smiley Face Songbird,” my secretary teases me from outside the door. “Don’t forget
about your nine-thirty!”
I look at my wrist watch. Twenty minutes before I really have to start work today.
I don’t mind—it’s what I need to do.
For myself.
For Rose.
For our future.
I lean back in my chair to enjoy the meditative moments before the daily grind begins.
I try to picture my dinner with Rose tonight. I don’t think we decided on a place...but did we? If we
did, I don’t want to disappoint her.
I search through my memory, trying to find a restaurant name somewhere in those beautiful moments
in Rose’s bed.
I’m drawing a blank on that, but I do remember our goodbye kiss.
It was a sweet, lingering kiss that gave us both another little spark of excitement—not that there
wasn’t already enough of that last night—but it delivered just a little taste of things to come.
Maybe after dinner tonight...but where is dinner tonight?
“Atera!” I say the restaurant name out loud when I remember it.
“It’s not at Atera. It’s in Conference Room A,” my secretary says through the door. She thinks I’m
still talking about my nine-thirty.
 I notice that my feet are up on my desk. I pull them down and take a deep breath.
“When you’re right, you’re right,” I call back. “I don’t know where my mind is, and I don’t know
where I’d be without you.”
“I don’t know where you’d be, either, and I don’t want to think about it.”
I laugh at her snarky comments. She soon joins in on the laughter. We share a nice little moment in
two different rooms, because why the hell not? It’s just a regular workday, and we’ve all got to get
through it.
I stand up at my desk. I may be feeling nice, but I still need to look presentable for my next meeting.
Eons ago, we had this kind of flaky new-agey interior designer come in and, as he put it, Feng Shui-
ed our offices. I didn’t even have the energy to argue at the time, and he didn’t do much in my office
besides hanging a full-length mirror on the inside of my office door.
It’s coming in handy now as I give my hair a quick comb. I pop a few breath mints and walk out the
door.
I get through all my appointments and go over my emails. I don’t even take a lunch break; I just get
through it while thinking about dinner tonight.
Or, more specifically, thinking about meeting Rose for dinner tonight.
And now, I’m done with the day’s commitments.
Oh, shit, where did we plan to meet, again? I’m seriously fucking distracted by her.
I sit down, close my eyes, and prop my feet back on the desk.
That nice feeling fills me up again as I think about our kiss and our discussion.
In my mind’s eye, I hear myself say, As soon as you’re done working tomorrow, I will be there at
your office. You don’t need to do a thing. Sitting back up, I remember saying one more thing: Well, you
might need to tell me when you’re finished.
As if Rose was somehow listening to my memories along with me, my phone buzzes.
Of course, it’s a text from her: I’ll be done in twenty minutes.
If this were any other date, I would think the message was a little business-like and perfunctory.
But it doesn’t bother me even slightly—it’s as nice as everything else Rose does.
I look at my wristwatch. It’s about four-forty.
I’ve made it a point to be early for all my other engagements today, and my most important
appointment of the day is coming up in twenty minutes. I’d better get a move on if I want to be there the
moment she gets off work.
I jog through the hallway, much to my secretary’s surprise. “Oh. My. God. What?” She squawks
before giggling as I break into a run.
Walking into the lobby—at least I’m not jogging anymore—I step in and stand tall, feeling proud of
the date I have tonight.
I feel excited, warm, happy, and nice as I look at my wristwatch again. It’s now about five minutes
to five, fifteen minutes after Rose’s text.
If she really was getting out of work when she texted, she would be in the lobby by now—not that
I’d expect her to wait for me all this time.
I look around the lobby, still smiling like I’ve been all day.
People are looking back at me. Two women and a man, all of them in grey suits, have stopped their
conversation just to glare at me.
I look towards the front entrance where the security guard is also staring at me, as is the nearby
older executive-looking guy in the meticulously tailored suit holding a coat over his arm.
But I dismiss them. Where is Rose, anyway?
I’m about to look at my wristwatch one more time, although it couldn’t have been a minute since I
last checked, when I hear that lovely voice.
“Ready?”
It’s not like I’m not used to people staring at me pretty much everywhere I go. It’s mostly just
background noise at this point.
But I still feel a strong sense of relief wash over me from just hearing Rose’s voice, knowing that
she’s here, and knowing that we can leave soon. I look up from my wristwatch to find her standing right in
front of me. Her nice smile perfectly matches my own.
“You have no idea how ready I am.”
Rose and I kiss briefly before crossing the lobby, leaving the people to gawk in our wake.
 Rose


It feels like we’re pulling our weight equally, both of us pulling each other closer while we walk
arm in arm out onto the sidewalk.
I spot Daniel’s car parked conspicuously, right in the middle of the loading zone in front of the
building.
“Wait, you can’t park there,” I squawk with amusement.
“That’s what I thought, but then I tried it and found out how easy it is.”
I lean away from Daniel to see if I can spot a ticket on his car’s windshield, or a boot on one of the
wheels. Daniel snaps me out of it by unlocking the doors remotely. The headlights flash, and the horn
honks, giving me enough of a start to straighten back up.
Daniel laughs a free, easy laugh, and I get a little infectious laughter from him.
It starts out as infectious laughter, anyway, but soon we’re both laughing hard at nothing but our own
happiness—and excitement.
Daniel’s done laughing by the time we reach the car, but he still has the goofiest, least self-
conscious grin I’ve ever seen on him when he opens the passenger side door for me. I nod politely, which
inspires Daniel to laugh again, just for a second.
Sliding into the seat and hearing Daniel shut the door, I feel a little of my cheerfulness drain. I don’t
know why I suddenly have the idea that we’re not on the same page, at least not at this very moment.
And I’m surprised how upset that vague notion is making me feel. I begin breathing a little harder
while I watch him walk in front of the windshield around to the driver’s side.
“Daniel,” I begin as soon as he opens the door. “May I ask you a question, please?”
“Sure.” Daniel keeps his eyes on me while he lowers himself into the seat and closes the door.
“You sound so formal...and don’t forget your seatbelt.”
I can’t say why I love the fact that he mentions the seatbelt so much, but I already feel better. We
both fasten our belts, and Daniel’s already started the car and pulled smoothly into the traffic before I
remember my question.
“Oh, what I wanted to ask, was...”
Daniel slows to a stop at a red light, and looks at me attentively.
“...what’s the reason you think we’re having dinner tonight?”
The light turns green, and the taxi behind us starts honking immediately, but Daniel keeps his
attentive face right on me.
Although―now he has that big, unapologetic grin again.
“Because we’re celebrating.”
“Celebrating what?”
 “Celebrating our future. Together.”
“Together? As parents?”
“Of course!”
Daniel finally drives through the light, and I feel almost weightless with elation, like the seatbelt’s
the only thing holding me in place.
I do know that, but I just needed to hear it again from Daniel.
The whole damn car feels feather-light, as if we’re not even moving, even though I can see that
we’re coasting downtown along Varick Street.
I start flushing with excitement—not necessarily that kind of excitement, not this time, but overall
excitement with things to come.
I shake my head slowly, unable to believe it.
Daniel turns quickly and effortlessly onto Worth. He looks at me, shaking my head, and I fully
expect him to laugh some more.
“It’s hard to describe, but I feel it, too,” he says sincerely. “That’s just one reason I know we’re on
the right path.”
If the seatbelt weren’t fastened and if Daniel’s moonroof was open, I would float off into the
stratosphere for sure.
The car glides on air to the curb, where a valet is already waiting for us.
“How are doing tonight, sir?” I hear the valet ask while I start opening the door.
Somehow, Daniel transports himself to just outside the passenger door, and he finishes the job of
opening the door as I step out onto the street.
I hear animated but hushed talking behind me. People are spotting Daniel, wondering who he’s out
with. I ignore it, letting it blend into the background.
If Daniel’s affected by the nearby gossip hounds, he’s not showing it. His eyes stay right on me, and
they stay there as we walk into Atera and sit down at our table, and even as Daniel orders the Krug Cuvee
Brut.
“We’re celebrating,” Daniel announces to the waiter as his gaze remains focused on me across the
table.
The waiter leaves silently to get our champagne. For the first time since we got to the restaurant,
Daniel breaks his stare as he glances at my hand resting on the table. He touches the top of my hand lightly
with just his fingertips.
“Do you think people are still watching us?” I ask.
“I couldn’t care less.”
“Do you care what they’ll write on Facebook tonight? On the forums?”
“Hey, gossipers, make sure to get this down...” Daniel isn’t yelling, but he’s being loud enough that
anyone who’s listening will hear. “This is official, we’re together. Write about that on your goddamn
message boards!”
“Official, huh?” I feel myself blushing slightly.
“I just want them to get it right, for once.” Daniel’s back to his conversational tone.
“Since that’s the case...what next?”
I watch Daniel, waiting for his answer. The silence is punctuated by the sound of a champagne cork
popping close to my ear.
“What’s next is that we’ll figure it out.”
The waiter fills both champagne flutes.
“I’ll be back with the first course,” he declares before disappearing again.
“You’re saying you’ll figure it out.” My mouth is getting strangely dry, and I take a sip of
champagne.
“That’s what I’m saying. There are other doctors, specialists I can talk to. Money’s no object, and
there’s no shortage of specialists in this city.”
I nod my head, staring at the bubbles rising to the surface of his champagne.
“You haven’t already been to every specialist on Earth?”
Daniel shrugs and takes the first sip of his drink. “I haven’t had this much motivation before.”
I let out a laugh, I’m not sure why, and I help myself to a hearty swallow of my own drink. “It’s
hasn’t even been two months, but, as you say―it’s official.”
Daniel takes another small taste of champagne.
“I think we both want the same things, Rose. To be parents, to be with each other...I know that’s
what I want.”
Daniel lets his eyes finish his thought as gazes at me, a gaze that says volumes. I gaze back, hoping
that my own look carries the depth of what I’m feeling.
“I’ll be there for you, and I’ll support you, and we’ll get this figured out together,” I tell him, in
case my look isn’t clear enough.
The service at Atera isn’t overbearing, but it’s fast. We get through every delicious course, and
there’s still some sunlight showing through the window.
“It’s only seven-thirty, or not even,” Daniel says, checking his wristwatch.
“This was kind of an early dinner...”
“That doesn’t mean it has to be an early night.”
I flush with excitement again. This time it is that kind of excitement, partially—but I’m also excited
just to spend more time with Daniel. I actually missed him at work today.
After all those tasting courses, and all that champagne, I end up leaning on Daniel while we leave
Atera.
“Hey, how much champagne did you have?” I ask when I see the valet bring Daniel’s car up to the
curb.
 “Two sips—you had the rest.”
Both of us crack up, and we keep laughing all the way back to Daniel’s building.
I’m still leaning on Daniel when we’re in the elevator, but then he starts leaning slightly in my
direction, and I start leaning harder on him, and we both just keep fucking laughing.
We’re both standing upright but still laughing gleefully when we walk into the penthouse.
Then our laughter stops.
It doesn’t peter out, but it just ends like someone lifted a needle off a record.
There’s a woman, standing right in the foyer, staring at us. She looks familiar, but the sight of her
glaring at us is enough to scare away any memory I might have of her.
She has strawberry blonde hair and kind of a loopy expression and…shit, there’s a child standing
right in front of her.
He can’t be more than six at most. The woman’s hands are on the boy’s shoulders, and he looks
almost as confused as I am.
Okay, don’t freak out, just figure out what the fuck is going on first.
Where do I even begin? I try opening my mouth to ask a question, like Who are they?, but I can’t.
“Daniel.” The woman’s voice breaks the nervous silence, and the sound of her saying Daniel’s
name incites a wave of nausea. “We need to talk.”
The woman walks over to Daniel with one arm over the boy’s shoulders. She’s looking at him with
laser focus.
I feel paralyzed. Daniel looks at me.
“Rose…” Daniel says softly.
“Daniel, this is Darren. He’s your son.”
Amazingly, Daniel’s expression doesn’t change, and he’s still looking at me.
The nausea’s gone, and so is every other feeling.
I just feel numb.
The only thing I can feel are fresh tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Daniel, did you hear me?” The woman’s voice sounds like it’s coming through a long tunnel.
Daniel’s arm starts shaking slightly, and I realize it’s because I’m shaking. I hear myself let out a
plaintive sob.
“Rose, don’t listen to her. We need to talk about this.”
Daniel’s voice is level and assured. I don’t know how to respond, but it doesn’t matter, because I
don’t think I can, anyway.
“Daniel?” The woman’s voice sounds clearer this time, and with some effort, I stop shaking.
“I think you should talk to her first,” I hear myself say.
I back away from Daniel, letting his hand fall from my shoulder.
“Rose...”
 I walk to the door and open it, hearing Daniel say my name several more times, pleadingly, as I
leave.
 Daniel


Rose is walking out the door, but I wait for her to be out of hearing range before spinning around to
lash out at Maggie―which I’m sure won’t end well for either party.
I hate the fact that the last picture I have in my mind of Rose from tonight is a face contorted with
confusion and eyes that were swelling with tears.
She is right, though.
I need to discuss the pressing issue at hand, the elephant in the room. Maggie and I have some
catching up to do, however unconventional and hostile it’s going to be for us.
I need to clear up the bitter resentment that I’m sure Rose is undoubtedly feeling right now, but it
begins with a step in the right direction and a battle with Maggie.
Turning back to face her, I shrug, not knowing exactly how to pursue this argument. Maggie stands
in front of me with the little boy looking quizzically between the two of us.
Her hands are on her hips, defiant, and neither one of us has even spoken a word yet to each other
since Rose left.
“Okay, Maggie,” I sigh with exasperation. I don’t want to get the little boy involved, but she leaves
me no choice because he’s standing right there, witnessing everything. “What is this really about?”
Maggie scoffs and pulls her son close to her, reeling him in by the shoulder. “What this is about,
Daniel, is the fact that you have a son and you need to show him some respect.”
I glance at the boy named Darren and flash him a pearly white smile. It’s not the kid’s fault he has a
crazy mother. I don’t want to inflict any further psychological damage on the poor kid by getting him
caught up in a grown-up problem.
He glances at me with furrowed brows. He looks like he wants to trust me, but on the other hand,
has a shy quality that’s not allowing him to part ways with his suspicions.
“How old are you, little man?” I attempt to engage him in friendly banter.
My efforts are ended in vain, because Maggie speaks up for him. “He’s five years old,” she jeers.
“That’s something I guess you would already know if you took any effort in his life.”
“Maggie,” I begin and point a lecturing finger at her. “How the hell…” I trail off, sheepishly
remembering that the kid is in the room before starting my argument over. “How in the world would I
know about him if you never told me?”
Maggie rolls her eyes and breathes out a frustrated puff of air. “I’ve tried to contact you.”
“Uh…that’s news to me,” I retort, dripping with sarcasm.
“I found out I was pregnant with him shortly after we broke up.” Maggie’s tone softens as she
glances at her offspring with a nostalgia that I can’t relate to.
Suddenly, I remember something that I can use as an ace up my sleeve. Maggie is bluffing, and I can
prove it.
“Is there any way that we can speak privately?” I lean in and whisper in her ear.
“No.” Maggie shakes her head with antagonism. “He’s not leaving my side.”
“Fine,” I say and shift my weight. I already have enough to argue about with Maggie, I don’t need to
add more things to the already leaning tower.
“I don’t think he’s my kid,” I tell her and cross my arms insolently.
Maggie laughs like a shrieking hound dog, then glances from her son and then directly back to me.
“Are you kidding? He looks exactly like you, spitting image.”
I scrutinize the boy’s features for a minute or two, then shake my head. “I’m unconvinced, Maggie.
First of all, you were on birth control pills when we broke up.”
“I stopped taking them,” Maggie blurts out as if she’s pulling the most outlandish excuses out of a
hat.
“I know that’s not true,” I say and give her a knowing look. “You were always adamant you didn’t
want kids and took the pill religiously. Remember? You always talked about how you weren’t ready for a
family yet because you were diligently trying to pursue your modeling career?”
I raise an eyebrow and stare at Maggie, daring her to argue my exceedingly valid set of points.
She’s not going to derail me to a plummet of burning flames just yet.
“Well, I…” Maggie grasps for straws, stuttering and falling over words.
“Then,” I remind her and point my finger in her direction, wagging it while another memory in my
favor comes to me. “Then you left me. Do you remember that part, Maggie?” I slice through her
confidence like it’s day-old bread.
“We grew apart,” Maggie counters with another sizable portion of pure bullshit.
I erupt into laughter like a wailing hyena. The boy stares at me with perplexity, and Maggie covers
his ears.
“Maggie, you sound ridiculous right now. You do realize that, don’t you?”
“I’m not,” Maggie protests defensively.
“You left me for a celebrity and shattered my heart into a million pieces that I’m still trying to pick
up to this day,” I confess and then immediately regret it.
Shit, I wish I could take that one back. I just admitted to a vulnerability that’s been absent ever
since Rose came into my life, but is now coming screaming back, thanks to Maggie stirring up settled dust.
I glance at the floor, afraid to make eye contact with her. We’re silent for a few pauses while we
both digest that information.
Then another issue dawns on me.
It was around the exact same time that Maggie left me that I started becoming aloof. That the
condom issue surfaced.
This new realization rears its ugly head, but I have no choice but to cling onto control of the
situation.
Maggie is staring down at her little boy, who also says nothing.
“Maggie.” My voice slices the air and startles all of us. “There’s only one surefire way to
determine whether he is my son or not.” I point to the kid who’s shuffling his feet and glancing at the
ground, looking uncomfortable.
“Oh yeah?” Maggie sneers. If we were in middle school I’m sure she’d be sticking her tongue out at
me, because that’s how immaturely she’s behaving right now.
“Yeah.” I nod my head adamantly, ready to throw her kryptonite in her face. “Get a DNA test,” I
demand of my ex.
“We don’t need a DNA test,” Maggie retorts. “He’s your son. I wasn’t with anyone else at the
time―and besides, he looks just like you.”
Maggie appears smitten with her argument, thinking that I’ll just throw in the towel and grovel for
forgiveness at her feet.
She probably expects me to cut her a fat check on her way out soon. Well, unfortunately for Maggie,
she has sadly underestimated me.
“Maggie.” I try to enlist reasonable compromise into her brain. “I want the DNA test.”
“What, you’re a scientist now?” Maggie laughs, degrading me, which is apparently one of her
favorite hobbies. “The truth will come out,” she adds, a quality of darkness moving across her features.
There’s a part of me that really prays this kid isn’t mine. I feel like I’ve been hit with an enormous
life hurdle that I’m going to have to jump across in order to come out stronger on the other side.
I’m ready to build a family with Rose, and Maggie is certainly throwing an unwanted wrench in
those plans.
Determined not to derail from what’s supremely important to me, I continue to forcefully persuade
Maggie on the DNA testing idea.
I try to look at the bright side. Even if this little boy staring up at me with huge, confused saucer
eyes—I think that even if it’s determined that he is my son after all—at least I’ll know that there’s a way
to potentially conquer my coming problem.
Believe me, nobody wants a solution to my psychological issues more than I do. Well, maybe Rose
is high up there on the list, too…but I need to have hope that I can father more children when the need
presents itself.
Finally, I get Maggie to conform to the DNA testing. She’s hell-bent on making sure she keeps a
tight grip on me in the meantime, and she’s proving to not go down without a fight.
“Fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a sullen-child-type of look. “We can get
the DNA test.”
“What’s the catch?” I ask with annoyance because I’m not a fucking idiot. I know that Maggie will
want a favor in return.
 “I’m going to stay here with you at your penthouse,” she says firmly, as if there is no reason for me
to debate with her.
“That’s an absurd demand, Maggie,” I growl.
Maggie shrugs, as if my comfort is the least of her worries. I hate the idea of sharing a living space
with Maggie again, but what if Darren really is my son?
“Take it or leave it,” she says.
I don’t want to scream and fight with her until I’m blue in the face. I want to leave a favorable
impression on the poor kid.
I shake my head, and my knees involuntarily buckle under me. Good thing the couch is nearby, and I
collapse into a heap on top of it, trying to get my head on straight.
I place my head in my hands and rub my throbbing temples. I have no choice but to agree to
Maggie’s demands.
“Okay.” I nod, appeasing her as she looks at me with a smug smile. “You can stay,” I tell her, “But
only until the results come through.”
I decide that I’ll place the confrontation with Rose on the back burner. It’s only fair―she doesn’t
need to be involved in the never-ending drama unfolding in my life. Once everything is clear and out in
the open, we can hopefully resume right where we left off.
 Rose


I guess taxi drivers are used to seeing people cry in the backseat.
If I had decided on an Uber Pool instead, or if I decided to hoof it all the way down to my
apartment, I may have had to deal with concerned looks, or people uncomfortably trying to not look at me
at all.
Instead, the seasoned pro of a cabbie has no discernable reaction to my puffy, red eyes or my tear-
strewn cheeks when I climbed in. Even though I’m barely able to verbalize my address through the sobs,
he repeats it back perfectly before calmly starting the drive down to the Battery Park City area.
The streets are quiet downtown. There’s no traffic, apart from the few other taxis bobbing and
weaving between lanes.
The weather’s warm, but the sidewalks are empty.
I look at myself in the rearview mirror. I barely recognize the miserable, weeping face I see. My
occasional sniffles sound like they’re coming from someone else.
The numbness is back, but I can’t stop the tears from coming out.
“There are tissues,” the driver points out helpfully.
I look down and see the small tissue box just in front of the back seat. I grab one, and a second one,
and begin the task of wiping the accumulated tears from my face.
“Th-thank...” I blow my nose. “Thank you.”
I have tissues in my purse, too, but I’m not even thinking like that.
Like someone who’s crying.
But I am. I’m still in shock, knowing that it’s going to hit me, but not ready for the pain and the
reality to strike me yet.
My tears are way ahead of me, though. I was crying while I was on my way out of Daniel’s
penthouse, and I’ll be crying when it does hit me―probably after I get home.
Then, there’ll be even more crying.
That bastard.
I’ve always wanted to live with the attitude that nobody can bother you unless you let them.
And it’s always easier said than fucking done.
We merge onto the West Side Highway. I see all the luxury yachts sailing in the Hudson, all the
upscale condo high-rises being built in Jersey City, of all places.
And all the hotels.
Even if I could perfectly adopt that attitude now, to just not let Daniel get to me one second longer,
then...
No, that’s not an option. Not if I could be pregnant.
 And I couldn’t do that not ‘not letting him bother me’ shit anyway. Does that ever fucking work?
It must.
It really should, anyway.
Maybe it can work. For me.
I open my purse and find a fresh pack of tissues. I start clearing the next batch of tears.
I’m breathing a little clearer, and I don’t hear myself sobbing any longer, but there are some fresh
tears making it difficult to see clearly.
After I clear the tears away, I see that we’re passing Stuyvesant High School and the Borough of
Manhattan Community College.
A public high school and a community college, and they’re still two of the best schools in the entire
region.
Anyone lucky enough to grow up around here, or to raise kids here, has some great options.
I look at my stomach. It looks the same as always.
Not that it would look any different at some point in the pregnancy, but...
I pat my abdomen lightly a couple times. I don’t think I feel anything different.
Do I?
The driver’s used to seeing people cry, but I wonder what he’ll think if he happens to look in the
rearview now.
The numbness fades, making way for a strange, giddy kind of confusion. I put my hand over my eyes
and feel fresh tears still forming.
This is not the time to try and convince myself that I’m pregnant.
But if I am, somehow, then cutting Da―that bastard out of my life becomes much more problematic.
Both of my hands are clenching into fists.
No more numbness, not much more confusion―it’s mostly just outrage.
I can’t even get myself to think his full first name.
The taxi winds through the quiet blocks of my neighborhood too quickly and screeches to a halt
perfectly at my front door.
Dammit, now the shaking’s starting again.
I steady myself as best as I can and carefully fetch a few bills from my wallet. I can’t even fucking
count them right now.
The driver smiles when I hand over the fare. It must be enough.
Shaking and weeping, I propel myself inside, past the doorman and concierge, to the elevator and to
my sofa—no, my bed, all through sheer force of will.
I’m not taking this well, but that’s right now. I allow myself to let lose in a way I couldn’t in the
taxi, or the lobby. I need to get it all out now so I’m ready to deal with this rationally soon.
I sob into my duvet cover until I’m worn out on every level of my being.
 I feel like I just had an intense workout, but without the spirit-lifting endorphins or sense of
accomplishment. Fortunately, the worst of my physical reaction to the ridiculous, horrible revelation is
over.
I turn over to lie comfortably on my back, looking up at my plain, white ceiling.
“Maybe it’s time to paint this room,” I say in a collected, tranquil voice.
Now is probably the time to think of something, anything positive that I can find in this shitstorm.
At least I found out about it tonight, right? This could’ve gone on much longer.
But what did I find out, exactly? I have some ideas, but now that I’m no longer a bawling mess, I
should use my brain to solidify the obvious.
I zombie-walk to the bathroom to wash my face. I keep my eyes on the sink to avoid seeing the
current state of my makeup in the mirror.
I scrub hard with foaming face cleanser and hot water, washing off the layers of deceit.
Without looking in the mirror, I pull out my makeup removal basket—yes, that’s what I call it—
from under the sink and methodically cleanse my face of mascara and foundation.
One more wash, and I look in the mirror to see a red but clean face. I like the look of it—that’s
another positive to come from tonight.
An heir.
That’s what it’s all about to him.
An heir for the fucking hotel magnate.
How I feel doesn’t factor into it, except for how he wants me to feel as means to an end.
It could be the way things work―or the way things are often done in that world, at that towering
level of that industry.
That’s not my concern, though, because that’s the way that Daniel is doing things, and it’s selfish,
disgusting, and downright fucking immoral no matter what.
I pull a washcloth from under the sink and dry my face, starting to breathe a little faster.
I take another look my reflection. A deepening shade of red is taking over my face.
How long could this have gone on for?
It’s like he didn’t miss a beat when we walked in to find that woman.
And his son.
He just kept looking at me. So weirdly calm.
I shout out some angry, nonsense syllable and throw the washcloth across the room. It falls
harmlessly to the floor. I’m glad I wasn’t holding something breakable.
I don’t know. I likely won’t be in a state to figure out every part of the situation for some time.
I let out a small burp.
No more champagne—not until I’m sure I’m not pregnant.
Damn it, if I am, then...
 Then, I’m pregnant. Daniel needn’t have a damn thing to do with it.
I retrieve the washcloth from the floor. It’s still close enough for me to just lean over and pick it up.
I’m feeling calm as I put the washcloth over to my clothes hamper, but when I toss it in, I notice that
I’m still wearing my purse.
I get a peculiar pang of nausea, and I look down at my stomach again. I pat it a couple times.
Then I break down weeping again.
I rip my purse off my arm, let loose another angry yelp and throw the Fendi bag to the other side of
the room with gusto.
The bag hits the far wall and drops peacefully to the floor without a single item tumbling out.
I acknowledge my luck with a quick nod.
“Okay, no more angry throwing.”
The tears only last another minute or so, but I know I won’t be falling asleep easily tonight.
Almost without thinking, I walk into the kitchen, open a drawer and pull out a stack of Post-It notes
and a ballpoint pen.
I sit down at the table, ready to write something.
I stare at the yellow notepad for a long, uncomfortable stretch of time before finally scribbling
something down.
Daniel doesn’t need to know.
Okay, what does that mean?
After staring at it for a bit, I realize that it means that even if I am pregnant, Daniel does not need to
know about it.
He has an heir already. That kid—Darren.
“Okay.”
Now that I’ve decided, I doubt I’ll forget. I crumple up the note and throw it in with the paper
recycling.
I go to bed and try to fall asleep.
 Daniel


You can’t escape it.
You get to a certain point where you think, At least I have my own place, a place that I’ve been
working hard for pretty much my entire life. At least I could have a penthouse for myself.
But nope.
There’s no escaping certain things.
That’s a lesson I’m learning now, and I’m trying my best to do what’s right—like sleep on the
leather lounge chair so Maggie and Darren can have my bedroom.
The kid is only five years old. I have to be as accommodating as I can.
And he might really be my son.
It’s Saturday morning, a good time for sleeping in, for catching up on the shuteye that I may have
missed during the week.
Instead, at five-thirty in the morning, I’m awoken by the jarring sensation of a bright green Nerf
football smacking me in my face. Yes, I think the fact that the football is colored bright green makes it hurt
even more.
I’m even getting used to it. Seriously, a Nerf football is one of this kid’s favorite toys.
Maybe he just likes hitting me with it, even though he acts oblivious―or, in some cases,
convincingly contrite.
And now I’m still lying here, hours after my initial Nerf wakeup call, trying in vain to get maybe
just a few more minutes of sleep—only there’s a relentless sound that I know will make it impossible.
The sound that keeps me awake so often these days can’t be described as a pitter patter of little feet
that I may be able to actually sleep through, especially with these uncomfortable foam earplugs I picked
up at the drug store. Without seeing what’s making this sound, I would think it could only be produced by
Andre the Giant wearing tap shoes, tearing back and forth across my floor.
By now, I know that it’s just Darren, wearing Velcro running shoes, tearing back and forth my
apartment floor.
It turns out he really loves to run back and forth, for hours on end, especially in the morning.
I drift in and out of half-sleep. Maggie calls her son from just inside my bedroom.
“Are you hungry for lunch?”
Her voice is so fucking loud. Everything within me just wants to grab the two cushions my head is
resting on and press them against my ears, but I don’t want to cause any problems by acting all
melodramatic and frustrated.
“Are you hungry for lunch?”
Maggie just keeps yelling, and Darren keeps doing laps back and forth across the floor in front of
me. I give up and open my eyes just to make sure it really isn’t Andre the Giant this time.
It’s not.
It’s still Darren.
He’s cute, and I appreciate his childish glee. He’s getting some exercise, too. Maybe he’ll be in the
Olympics someday. That is if they invent a new track event―a relay race where the competitors keep
running the same twenty meters, back and forth, only handing the baton off to themselves.
I think Darren could even get a gold medal today if it existed.
“Do you want McDonalds?” Maggie screams. “You should ask Daniel to go get you McDonald’s!”
“Is it really you who wants McDonald’s?” I shout in Maggie’s direction.
“I’m vegan!” She’s still yelling from my bedroom.
“Yeah, I remember now,” I grumble. “Sorry.”
“Actually, I guess I could have a Filet-O-Fish,” she says, a little more quietly. “Just tell him to hold
the cheese...and the tartar sauce.”
“So you’re not vegan?” I try to speak loudly without yelling as I sit up.
“I am vegan, but we’re talking about a fish sandwich. Fish doesn’t count—it’s not meat, and it’s not
really an animal by-product. It’s just an animal that’s not meat.”
I can’t take it. I fall back into my sleeping position.
“What the...heck.” I stop myself from uttering a much less appropriate word.
I hear sweet silence for a moment when Darren stops running.
The silence doesn’t last long.
“What the heck! What the heck! What the heck! What the heck!” Darren takes the opportunity to start
running back and forth again, this time adding his new favorite phrase to his usual racket.
“What the heck! What the heck!”
“Oh!” Maggie yells. “Now you’ve fucking got him swearing!”
Darren only gets louder.
“What the heck! What the heck!”
“Attaboy,” I mumble, closing my eyes and slowly falling asleep, hoping to not wake up until we get
the DNA test results.
“Daniel!”
A shrill voice slices through the rich tapestry of my sleep.
“DANIEL!”
The voice makes another slice, lengthwise through my slumber, forcing my eyes to open and see the
early dusk light on my ceiling.
At least I slept a bit more, even if it was all fucking day.
I sit up to see my darkened living room, Maggie watching me with an overwrought frown, holding
Darren at her side.
 Maggie doesn’t notice that Darren’s now bringing his finger out of his nostril.
I stay silent as Maggie scowls at me and Darren looks at the greenish, gooey treasure he found,
examining it like a jewelry appraiser in the Diamond District.
Darren’s face scrunches up in serious contemplation. I can almost see his thoughts.
“Should I enjoy a little snack now?” he’s thinking. “Or should I make this into a real investment
and smear it somewhere on the living room wall?”
Darren shrugs and slurps the booger off his finger, smacking his lips proudly.
I’m glad it’s dark in the living room, otherwise my stomach would really be turning right now.
Darren’s finger goes right back into his nostrils, maybe for another chance at a long-term
investment.
“Why haven’t you turned on the lights yet?’ I ask Maggie.
“Why haven’t you actually woken up yet?” she flings back.
“It’s Saturday...catching up,” I mumble.
Christ, now Darren’s toddling over to the coffee table, and a pint glass is sitting there without a
coaster.
From what I can see, he’s poured all kinds of random ingredients from my kitchen into the glass:
maple syrup, maybe rolled oats, some tonic water, avocado oil and...god, he’s not going to put what he
found in his nose in there, is he?
And wow, somebody moved two of my end tables, placing them so they’re just sitting next to each
other haphazardly by the coffee table.
I stumble over to the dimmer switch just to get a bit more light into the room.
Darren’s still hunched over coffee table, making Lord only knows what kind of foul creation. He’s
humming a random little tune to himself, obliviously happy.
I don’t mind his little song, but I don’t think I’ll ever use that glass again.
I spin slowly around the room. Somebody’s been doing some interior decorating—I’m surprised I
slept through it.
The only two pieces of furniture still in place are the coffee table and lounge chair serving as my
bed during this interminable waiting period.
Everything else is rearranged, but it doesn’t look like it. Not by any sort of logic or sane sensibility.
“What the heck?” I ask Maggie quietly.
“What the heck is that we’ve been waiting for you to get us food, and now it’s almost dinner time.”
Maggie shoves her forefinger at her nonexistent wristwatch. “There’s nothing left in your kitchen for us. I
don’t think my diet’s unreasonable...”
“Did I dream that you asked about that Filet-O-Fish earlier?”
“What? No. I don’t eat carbs, but I do eat fish...”
“And bread. Or do you take the bun off?”
 “Why would I take the bun off?”
Maggie’s voice doesn’t have a hint of awareness. Darren’s still toiling away, and I hope I somehow
can avoid ever seeing the final result of his big experiment.
“Let me get dressed and I’ll run out to get you food at…someplace.”
“Just the Filet-O-Fish for me,” Maggie says like she’s ordering at a drive-through. “Or a fish
sandwich from somewhere. Fried, please. And no cheese, and tell them to go easy on the tartar sauce
because that might have carbs in it! And a hamburger for Darren—I’ll let him hear the call of veganism
when he’s ready. Fries for both of us, please!”
“No carbs,” I grunt under my breath.
I need to shower and shave and brush my teeth, but right now I just need to get dressed and get the
fuck out of here for a few minutes.
Later, while Darren and Maggie are eating on the sofa, with their greasy fast food bags and
wrappers heaped on the sofa next to them, I grab a dish towel from the kitchen.
With my hand over my eyes, I navigate back to the coffee table, peeking through my fingers just
enough to not bump into anything in Maggie’s new arrangement of my living room.
I’m trying with all my might to not see whatever’s in Darren’s pint glass project.
I get a small glimpse of the glass, just enough to see a few colors: black, gold and green.
My stomach starts to protest at the sight, but I grab that pint glass with the towel and walk it quickly
as I can straight to the trash compactor. I throw the glass away, followed by the dish towel right on top of
it.
Hopefully, I’ll never see it again.
The next morning, after another night of fitful sleep, I wake up to Darren’s Nerf football bouncing
hard off the bridge of my nose and hitting some piece of furniture that’s somewhere it shouldn’t be.
“Now I know how Jan Brady feels.”
Darren halts his back-and-forth across the floor and looks at me with wide dyed curiosity. “Who
the heck is John Brady?”
“I’ll get back to you on that.”
I jump out of the chair, sensing that something’s even more amiss than usual. I hit my shin on one of
the misplaced end tables while weaving through living room, but I limp on.
Before exiting the room, I turn to face Darren.
“Actually, that’s Marcia Brady who gets hit with the football.”
“Marcia?”
“Marcia,” I pronounce carefully.
I give up the limping and hop on one foot through the kitchen.
Yep, something’s amiss.
Nearly every bottle from both my wine rack and my wine chiller is missing, except for two bottles
in the chiller.
I take a quick look and see that a bottle of chardonnay and a bottle of white zinfandel are the only
two left—all the red wine I’m keeping in the kitchen are missing.
The pain in my shin eases, and I get a waft of a strong odor.
It’s red wine, and it’s coming from the...bathroom?
I run to the bathroom door. The light is on, and I smell a pungent mixture of merlot, pinot noir, and
cabernet.
“Hey, what’s going on in there?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of vino therapy?” Maggie chirps, sounding just as happy as a clam.
“What’s...what?”
“You know, a red wine bath.”
The sound of my face hitting my palm is probably loud enough to be heard all the way from
Connecticut to Cape May.
I don’t even want to continue the discussion. I’m just ready for this to be over.
“Say, Maggie, you haven’t seen any messages, have you? Or missed calls? Maybe you borrowed
my phone for something, and you saw something and forgot about it? I’d love to know.”
God, please let her say yes. I just need to know that Rose hasn’t given up on me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Maggie projects in dramatic shout, like she’s auditioning
for an off-Broadway production of A Streetcar Named Desire.
The combined smell of all the red wines is becoming too much. I step back from the bathroom door
and almost knock into another randomly placed end table.
At least Maggie didn’t bring my phone along for her vino therapy—it’s sitting face-down on the end
table.
It’s a sign, or at least that’s what I tell myself. I scoop up my phone, and for the first time in days, I
walk into my own bedroom and lock the door.
I walk to the far side of the room so I can have some privacy as I call Rose...
But, fuck. I can’t call her yet. Not before I have solid news about the test results.
It’ll just have to wait.
And I’ll have to wait, too―with Maggie.
Unfortunately.
 Rose


Two weeks.
Fourteen days, or thereabouts.
I’ll be honest: this entire time—an entire half a month—I never let go of the notion that I would be
on this route again someday.
The route back to Daniel’s penthouse.
Someday. Someday soon.
I’ll continue my honesty, although this gets a little embarrassing: my definition of soon, in this case,
has been sooner than two weeks.
I know. I’m asking a lot, right?
I look at today’s date on my phone, and I look at it in the context of the calendar hanging on my
kitchen wall.
There’s no hiding from the LED light bulbs turned up to full brightness. It’s printed in stark black
and white on the free calendar from the Thai delivery place.
Fourteen days exactly. Almost two dozen empty, eventless days. No word from Daniel, and no
feelings of motivation strong enough to contact him myself.
Until now. Because it’s been two fucking weeks.
Fourteen days. Couldn’t he just call me?
It can’t be worse than the fears running through my head during that weepy taxi ride from his place.
Or it could be. The fact I’m yet to hear from Daniel is evidence it could be that bad―or worse.
I place my hand gently over my stomach while walking. I’m feeling butterflies again.
I wish I could say they’re butterflies of excitement, but these are more like butterflies of
apprehension.
The fluttery feeling grows briefly, then fades when I stop at a crosswalk. I keep my hand where it
is, as if my abdomen were its natural resting place. It gives me a feeling of security as Daniel’s home
draws closer.
I don’t know why it gives me that feeling, but I’ll take what I can get.
It feels nice.
During these past two weeks of waiting to take the trip back up to Daniel’s penthouse, not once did
I think I would enjoy the journey.
I’m still learning that it’s impossible to predict these things. It’s warm, it’s sunny, and there’s a light
breeze and a jovial mood in the air...
This might be okay. I don’t know how, I couldn’t imagine the scenario, but I can’t predict anything.
It could’ve been a misunderstanding.
 Yeah, a big misunderstanding, and he decided to just not call for two fucking weeks.
My right hand, resting so comfortably on my stomach, rejects the idea of burrowing through my
purse to get my phone so I can check it yet again.
My right hand will hear none of that nonsense.
Even if my phone’s full of missed calls and messages, two weeks is enough of a chance.
And I can see Daniel’s building. I’m close enough to see that big picture window at the top floor.
The butterflies in my stomach are fluttering again. I get the feeling I shouldn’t be here.
I rub my fluttery stomach and regain control. There’s no stopping now.
I hold my head up high and tread into the lobby with purpose.
“Good evening.” A booming voice fills the lobby, greeting me with lots of natural reverb.
“Hello, I’m just going...”
“Up to the penthouse?” I don’t know if the large, suited man in front of me is the doorman or the
concierge or what... “You can go on up.”
But he recognizes me.
I smile and nod, getting oddly flustered. Maybe I should be here after all.
“He won’t be home for about half an hour, though.”
The booming voice interrupts my fast walk to the elevator, but the concierge/doorman is all smiles
as he hands me a key fob without saying another word.
I turn the key over and over in my hand on the way up to the penthouse.
Fuck it—if he wants to leave things like that and then not call for two weeks, he can handle the
surprise of me waiting for him when he gets home.
I smirk while opening the door, picturing a startled Daniel finding me sitting on his leather lounge
chair.
After that, there’s a good chance he’ll just tell me it’s over and that’ll be that, but...
I’m hit with bright lights while opening the door. It looks like every light in the penthouse is going
at full throttle.
What is going on?
“May I help you?”
It’s her again. How could I have not guessed?
“Maggie.”
I remember her name at the same moment I say it out loud. That’s what I couldn’t remember last
time. It’s Daniel’s ex-girlfriend―and the villain of his online fan base.
I’ve never seen a smile like the one that transforms Maggie’s face as she stares at me.
It’s technically a smile, but it looks cold, sinister, almost frightening. Thankfully, it doesn’t last
long.
The kid is there, too. Maggie’s son, and...
 I don’t know what’s going on. I can’t even gauge what’s happening. My brain is frozen, and I’m
feeling paralyzed—just like the last time I was standing in this doorway.
The kid is glued to the TV, which is playing a daytime talk show. The audience is shouting, getting
unruly, and the sound is loud.
It’s really loud; it must be turned up all the way. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it earlier.
“What are you doing here?” Maggie’s voice is almost drowned out by the television, but she keeps
talking. “What are you doing in our house?”
I grab my stomach with both hands, no longer paralyzed but suddenly queasy. Maggie looks like
she’s trying to suppress a grin, and I stop.
“Where’s Daniel?” I ask quietly.
I know he’s at work or on his way back.
Or is he?
I put my hand over my mouth.
Maggie’s evil grin is back, like she can’t stop it.
I try to gather my thoughts, at least to get through this moment, but the TV sounds like it’s getting
louder.
I glance at the screen, but nobody’s changing the volume. The kid’s not even watching it anymore.
He’s now looking at me.
The TV’s playing an ad for an action movie, and the sound becomes deafening.
“I think Daniel’s at the store, picking up stuff for Dar...Darren, mute the commercials, honey.”
Darren, that’s the kid’s name. Like a pro, he aims the remote and ends the horrible barrage of noise
with a push of his thumb.
“Dear, I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I won’t push it.” Maggie’s condescending tone is
tying my stomach in knots. “It really is over. You should know that, if you don’t yet.”
Even though I’m just standing on flat, solid ground, I stumble slightly and almost fall.
Regaining my balance, I see Maggie grinning with pure delight.
“Process it,” Maggie chirps cheerfully. “Let it sink in. Daniel has a family. There’s no more hope
for you.”
Darren unmutes the television, and the sound of the shouting, shrieking crowd suffocates me. Tears
are flooding my vision, but I can see Maggie still focused on me, smirking, her hands gripping the arm of
the sofa with glee.
I clumsily run out the door and to the elevator. The sound of Maggie laughing at me competes with
the sound of the TV coming from Daniel’s apartment.
Thank goodness the elevator opens as soon as I press the button, the empty car waiting to take me
away from this hell.
I don’t know what’s carrying me on the walk home. I’m drained of all energy and all motivation for
any fucking thing.
I just move down the sidewalk with a hard, blank stare, wiping away new tears every so often.
I stay on the route straight down to my building for a while, but after a few minutes, I take a brief
detour.
I turn right and start walking west fast. I cross the West Side Highway and grab the key fob to
Daniel’s apartment—I forgot to give it back.
And I’m not going back now.
I pitch the key into the Hudson with an overhand throw.
That feels surprisingly good.
And I’m still fucking crying.
There’s no denying what I’m going through.
“I’ve fallen for Daniel, hard,” I tell Jenna after getting back to my place.
All it took was a text message while walking home, and my cousin was waiting in the lobby by the
time I got back.
Now she’s next to me on the living room sofa, her hand resting on my shoulder.
“You think so, huh?” Jenna smiles gently with knowing compassion. I emit a brief wheeze, which is
as close to laughing as I could get at present.
“Only you could get a laugh from me right now.”
“Hey, I’m good for some things.”
“So you believe it?”
“I believe my eyes. I recognize that kind of pain all too well.”
“And you’ve gotten over it...”
“And so will you. You know that. We’ve all been through this shit.”
I shift away from Jenna on the sofa and face forward, looking at the wall.
“I’m going to need to some time, though.” I don’t know what I mean by that.
“Of course.” Jenna seems to know.
“I don’t think I can do it anymore.”
“Rose, they’ve had you long enough.”
“I guess that is what I’m talking about. Just, resetting...”
“Go. Find a sunny spot, take some time for yourself, figure it out.”
“Yeah,” I respond, kind of dumbly.
“And it’ll be time for you to bloom, Rose. I’ve been waiting years to use that one. But seriously,
I’m picking up Jayden from his friend’s in like an hour, so...”
I don’t object to Jenna leaving. I’ve got things to do.
I walk Jenna out so I can pick up a pint of ice cream at the store downstairs.
It serves me well as I find a draft of my resignation letter, which I knew I’d be using someday, and
print it out with tomorrow’s date.
I want to feel like a kid in a candy store trying to find a vacation rental somewhere tropical,
beautiful, and far away from everything I know.
I’m not much for feeling excited tonight, though.
Looking through beach house rentals all over the world, I find a good deal in an unexpected
location.
I sleep like a rock, and I hand in my resignation bright and early the next morning.
Everyone’s too shocked to say much, but that’s for the best.
After my last day of work, I pack in sort of a rush.
I have a teeming mass of impatient thoughts and feelings, but I want to wait until I get to the beach
house to think about any of it.
I don’t have to wait long, though.
After a forty-minute ride on the N train, I get out at Coney Island. I walk with my two hefty pieces
of luggage down to my beachside loft to check in.
The loft has a weird floor plan, but it’s lovely, and it’s set apart from everything.
It’s so set apart that all I end up doing the first day is setting a towel down on the sand and setting
myself down to stare at the water.
The weather is perfect. I can barely see and hear the Coney Island crowds in the distance.
Sitting on the sand, I feel just calm enough to numb myself for a while, but I’m not figuring much
out, either.
After two days, I give up and wander into the crowds at Coney Island. Apart from a few confused
tourists, the only people who try to talk to me are guys.
There are a lot of guys, and most of them are shirtless. Yet it’s like I’m looking right through them.
That scares me. I really let myself go off the deep end with Daniel.
Halfway through the week, I retreat to my loft.
I exchange a couple texts with Jenna, but I don’t talk with anyone. I cook with the groceries the
property owners left for me. I only venture outside to sit at my quiet spot on the beach.
My quiet spot doesn’t seem to help much. When the week is almost over, all I can think is It’s been
three weeks, nearly a month, and Daniel still hasn’t even tried to talk to me, not even to explain
himself.
My week is nearly up, and now I’m crying again.
Dammit.
A week’s not enough, I guess, but I have to get over this soon.
I’ve got no other choice.
 Daniel


I’ve been here in London for already a week, and I’m anxious to get home again, although I
begrudgingly understand that I’ll be walking in the door to Maggie, not Rose.
My mother raised me to respect women, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. I don’t want to hurt
Maggie by any means.
I’ll keep my word. If Darren is my son, then I’ll pick up the slack and will promise to make up for
lost time with him.
The problem is that the results are taking far longer than I expected. I don’t fucking get it. In this day
and age, shouldn’t something like that be available, I don’t know, fucking instantly?
I finish up my packing in my hotel room, eager to get back to New York.
I had been across the pond to check on an issue with one of my hotels here, and now that everything
is back under control, I’m ready to get back to where I belong…with Rose.
I haven’t spoken to Rose since that day in my penthouse when Maggie showed up with Darren,
demanding that I claim the son she’s certain is mine.
Even though I’m not with her right now, I know that Rose is just as eager to see the DNA testing
results.
When I have everything ready to go, I turn in my hotel key and have a driver take me to Heathrow.
My flight leaves in just two hours, and I plan on using the quality time on the trip back to think on
everything that’s happened.
Rose deserves the whole truth, but frankly, so do I. I peel back the layers of my memory. I am fairly
confident that Maggie was, in fact, on birth control at the time we broke up.
She wanted to focus on her career and never mentioned anything remotely resembling a pregnancy.
After boarding the plane, I order a gin and tonic and wear an eye mask. I get my neck pillow in
place and heave a grand sigh as I lean back in my seat.
Hopefully, once I plant my feet back on American soil, I’ll be closer to a resolution where Rose
and I can put this silly mix-up behind us.
When I step into my penthouse, Maggie and Darren are laughing together at the kitchen island. I
cringe when I notice that Maggie is wearing one of the freshly dry-cleaned white button-down collared
shirts I had washed just before I left for London.
She’s also wearing tiny pajama shorts underneath them. I toss the keys onto the counter by the door
and shrug off my jacket while I carefully place my suitcase on the floor.
Maggie meets my gaze and gives me a wink as she ruffles her son’s hair. I recoil slightly.
I want to ask her what the hell she’s doing, but I hate to quarrel in front of the kid. He’s probably
been through enough already as it is.
 Cartoons are blaring from the sixty-inch flat screen above my fireplace in the living room, but
they’re visible to the kid due to the open concept of my floor plan.
Darren is eating cereal and gives me a shy smile as I greet the two of them. I immediately notice
that the counter tops, which I prefer to be kept clean at all times, are laden with dirty dishes.
My irritation is soaring through the fucking roof, and it hasn’t even been five fucking minutes since I
got home.
“Uh, Maggie?” I scratch my head, trying to speak with as much politeness as I can.
“Yeah?” She gives me a seductive look as she puts a strawberry to her lips.
“Do you think you could clean up some of these dishes after you’ve finished eating?” I hate
sounding like I’m trying to appease her. It’s my apartment that she’s invading after all.
“Sure.” Maggie shrugs with indifference.
The kid finishes his cereal and glances up at Maggie. “Mom, can I go watch cartoons in Mr.
Daniel’s living room?” He points to the TV mounted on the wall.
“Of course, sweetie.” She strokes his cheek and plants a kiss on his forehead before he skips off.
Then, she gives me a smile as if her son is the most adorable human on earth. “I guess it will take some
time for him to start calling you Dad.”
I glance at the boy who’s happily sitting on the floor, his legs crossed and staring up at the TV.
“Maggie...” I begin, running a hand through my hair. “Have you heard anything about the results?
It’s been weeks now.”
“Nope.” Maggie shakes her head and splashes a disgruntled look over her face. “It won’t matter
anyway. We’re a family, Daniel.”
“Maggie, if he’s mine, sure...I’ll take responsibility. That doesn’t mean we’ll be a family.” I give
her a firm stare.
She reacts like she’s totally fucking unfazed. “We’ll see,” she states with breezy confidence as she
begins to rinse and wash the dishes on the counter.
It’s been three weeks since I took the DNA test. Three fucking long weeks.
Maggie is driving me crazy, waltzing around my penthouse apartment like she owns the place,
helping herself to my food and laying around as if she belongs there.
I hate the way things are moving, as if we were a real couple or something. I decide to take matters
into my own hands. If I want results from the lab, I’m going to just have to call them myself and demand an
answer.
I wait until Maggie leaves one afternoon to pick up Darren from school before I dial the number to
the hospital.
I have to jump through a few hoops and get redirected a few times on the call, but I finally reach a
live person on the other end from the lab.
I clear my throat, explaining to the nice woman on the phone who I am, and that I’m waiting for
DNA results.
The woman sounds confused at first. “I’ve been trying to reach you for almost three weeks now,”
she admits.
“Um, what?” I ask, feeling slightly alarmed.
“Yes,” the woman confirms. “A woman keeps answering on your home line. Every time I call, she
tells me either you aren’t home, or you’re unavailable and there is no other way to reach you.”
Instant fury seethes in my veins. “Well, here I am,” I say through clenched teeth.
“You are more than welcome to come view the results, sir,” the woman says. “We will just need
you to come in person so that we can match your identification for confidentiality reasons.”
“I’ll be right there,” I tell the woman and hastily hang up the phone.
I don’t have time to call my driver, so I flag down a cab and rush to the hospital, marching through
the doors to the lab with my ID in hand.
I receive the little manila envelope with the results, my hands trembling so much that I have a
difficult time opening the package.
I take the sealed white documents out of their container and scan the results.
Negative….no matching DNA.
I stare at the words, feeling both enraged and vindicated at the same time. I clutch the results tightly
in my white-knuckled hands all the way home.
When I get back inside the penthouse, Maggie is sitting at the kitchen table, wearing a black jumper
with her leg propped casually up on the table. She’s scrolling through her social media feeds and smiling.
Once she takes one solid look at me, though, her smug satisfaction collapses and she turns as white
as a ghost.
She defensively stands up and takes a step back. I wave the DNA papers in front of her.
“Read this Maggie,” I practically roar. I’m so angry I don’t even recognize myself. “Negative.
Darren isn’t my son.”
Tears tumble down Maggie’s eyes. “I’m sorry…I really thought he was yours,” she yelps like a
wounded puppy.
“You lied to me,” I growl at her. “Unforgivable!”
“Daniel…we’re good together,” Maggie pleads, still unwilling to give up the fight.
“Get out!” I demand. “Get out of my house now.”
A look of shame settles on Maggie’s face as her son comes out from the hallway looking scared.
She quickly composes herself and dries her tears while the boy looks on in confusion.
But I can’t worry about her right now. I need to find Rose and tell her the results. I grab my keys to
leave when Maggie stops me, gripping me by the elbow.
“Wait,” she says, clutching me. “Do you love her? Do you love Rose?” Her eyes are bloodshot, red
and swollen with tears and desperation.
 I don’t even have to hesitate before responding. “Yes,” I tell Maggie coldly. “I love Rose.” I shrug
her off and run out the door to chase down my dreams before they slip through my fingers forever.
When I arrive at Rose’s apartment about fifteen minutes later, I’m a sweaty, panting ball of stress. I
ring the doorbell, but then find myself pounding on the door a few seconds later in frustration, frantically
calling out Rose’s name.
I lean against the door, trying to compose myself. To my surprise, Rose’s cousin Jenna answers the
door. As soon as she sees me, she immediately moves to slam the door in my face.
“No, stop!” I cry out, putting my shoulder against it to keep it open.
Jenna gives me a sullen eye roll and crosses her arms over her chest. “What the hell do you want?”
“I need to see Rose,” I tell her, craning my neck to look past her into the apartment.
“She’s not here,” Jenna states flatly and tries to push the door closed again, but I’m stronger.
“When will she be back? Or will you just tell me where she is?” I beg.
Jenna’s face contorts into disgust. I have no idea whether she’s lying, and Rose is actually in her
bedroom, but I can’t just shove her aside and tumble unwanted into the apartment.
I use a gentler approach. “Please, tell me where she is, Jenna.” I make eye contact with her. “I
understand you’re angry and upset, just as Rose is, and you both have every right to be.”
Jenna sighs dramatically, a look of annoyance on her face, but I can tell she’s caving.
“Please,” I continue, pleading my case. “Everything is just a misunderstanding. I need to explain
everything to Rose, but I need your help in finding her.” I give her a pitiful look.
Jenna studies me for a moment. “Do you love Rose?”
“Yes!” I exclaim, ready to shout it from the rooftops if I have to.
That’s when I realize—I didn’t hesitate to profess my love for Rose to Maggie and Jenna. There
had never been any doubt as to what I felt for her.
Determination swells in my heart, and I plead with Jenna one last time, looking into her eyes and
searching for any residing compassion and empathy.
“Come on, Jenna,” I tell her. “The kid isn’t mine, and I need to tell Rose.”
Finally, after what seems like an eternity of pestering, Jenna caves.
“Okay,” she sighs and places her hand on the door jam. “I’ll tell you where she is if you promise
not to hurt her again.”
“Never again,” I vow firmly, looking her stone cold in the eyes.
“She’s at the beach,” Jenna reveals. “Out by Coney Island.”
I lean in to give Jenna a hug, thanking her and the stars above for helping me in my quest. Jenna
reluctantly hugs me back, but I can tell by her eyes that she’s smiling internally and rooting for us.
I get my driver to bring me out to Coney Island. I wander the beach for a while before I spot her—
the woman I’ve given my heart to without knowing it.
I walk up to her, keeping to the side, so that she won’t notice me right away. Her hair dances around
her like billows of strands stretching out to the sky, like feathers reaching for the sea.
The early morning hues of the sky reflect a pinkish purply glow around Rose that makes her
dauntingly magnificent.
I approach her carefully and stand just above where she has her knees tucked up to her chest and
her toes curled into the sand.
“May I sit?” I request.
Rose stills for a second before she glances at me briefly. Then, she sets her eyes back on the
Atlantic horizon. She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t get up and walk away either, so I take that as a step
in the right direction.
I grunt and crouch down on the sand beside her. “You don’t have to say anything,” I begin. “I know
you’re really mad at me. Just hear me out for a minute. Let me explain everything.”
Rose doesn’t flinch or blink. She continues to look out at the scope of the ocean as the waves swell
and crash to the shore.
“The kid isn’t mine,” I tell her. “The DNA test was negative. Maggie was just trying to trap me.
Whatever we had between us was long gone, even before you came.”
Confusion appears on Rose’s face. She stands up and begins to walk away, but I’ve come too far to
lose her now.
I try to walk beside her, but she pushes me away.
“Stop it!” she screams. “Leave me alone!”
I do as she says and allow her to wander a few steps ahead.
“Rose!” I shout to her on the empty beach. “Come back here. I love you, dammit!”
Rose halts in her tracks, her tiny footprints leaving a trail in her wake. She slowly spins around and
gives me a quizzical look.
“I love you!” I declare again, not only to her but to the whole fucking world if it wants to hear. I
raise my hands above my head and profess it with vigor. “I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you.”
Finally, I notice the faintest smile cross her lips, but it’s so subtle under the fresh morning sunlight
that it’s hard to see.
Then, out of nowhere, Rose doubles over and begins retching, dry heaving and clutching the sand.
“Rose?” I jog up to help her and, in that instant, she vomits all over the fucking beach.
 Rose


“Rose, are you okay?”
Daniel’s hand tenderly resting on my shoulder is like a strong cup of coffee, waking me up from the
dull, lifeless week I had hiding out on the beach.
I enjoy the feeling so much that I don’t respond right away—especially once the feeling starts
evolving. The feel of Daniel’s touch, which I haven’t felt in a fucking long time, is sending little shivers
from my shoulder to my toes.
Heat flows through me as well, and I don’t think it has anything to do with the fact I just vomited
right on the fucking sand.
Blech! It’s right between Daniel’s feet and mine—but I don’t want to look at it anymore.
So, at last, I raise my head, and meet Daniel’s pleading eyes. His touch and those eyes obliterate all
the bullshit, all the torment I’ve been putting myself through for days.
And all the suspicion and wariness that began weighing on me the instant I saw his face on the
beach is crumpling down to nothing in the face of this feeling…
“Daniel, I feel great.”
“But...”
“I don’t know why I threw up, and I’m not even sure why I feel great now...”
“I love you.”
That’s why.
“Could you say it again?”
“Rose, I love you.”
He’s the damn medicine man.
“That’s it, that’s why. I know it’s not rational, and if you asked me five minutes ago...”
“I love you, and I mean it, Rose.”
“One more time.”
“I love you.”
“I...” I shake my head in disbelief, feeling hot, feeling lighter than air. Daniel leans in and gently
kisses me on the cheek.
I lean into Daniel, wrapping my arms around him. He closes his arms delicately around me, moving
in more closely and landing a feather-light, ethereal kiss by my ear.
“You were saying?” he whispers.
“I...I love you, too.” I chuckle softly, and Daniel does the same. As I laugh a bit more and let my
head fall onto Daniel’s chest, teardrops fall one after another from my eyes.
What began as a delicate embrace grows naturally into a warm hug, as we prop each other up in the
sand.
The realization is instant, yet the fullness of it dawns over me slowly and beautifully: This is where
I belong.
So I stay there, in Daniel’s arms, feeling the sea breeze waft around us, listening to the seagulls and
the crashing waves, hearing the distant sounds of joyous beach-goers and Cyclone riders, relishing in just
how obvious it is.
Yet, I wouldn’t mind hearing it one more time.
“Say it again, please?”
“Rose, I love you.”
I release a couple more joyous, tearful laughs.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Rose?” Daniel asks.
“I love you.”
For me, those words are like a cure for both of us.
We slide slightly away from each other as the sounds of loud, boisterous crowds start to grow
closer, the beach getting more crowded.
Daniel and I are not ready to leave this spot quite yet. He gazes down at me, and I return the look,
beholding his gorgeous face and his eyes, seeing that he’s shed a few tears of his own.
How long had we been standing together on the beach? I don’t know, and I don’t care.
“Really, Rose,” Daniel begins, “the whole thing was just...”
“Hush. It doesn’t matter, and you explained it perfectly.”
“I love you.”
“Just like that.”
We laugh, and I watch Daniel’s face transform as a magnificent smile graces his lips.
“What do you want to do right now, Rose? Whatever it is, I’ll make it happen.”
“I want to kiss you.”
“Then please do.”
“I need to brush my teeth first. Remember?”
We both look at the sand. We somehow shifted, unconsciously, away from the spot where I threw
up. We look at each other and burst into laughter once more.
“If you insist.”
“I insist. That’s what I want to do right now: brush my teeth.”
Daniel nods as he contemplates my desire.
“As I said, I will make that happen. That is entirely doable.”
“Hey, I can make that happen. I’ve got a toothbrush in my loft and everything. I even have
toothpaste!”
“You rented a loft?”
 “Come on, how did you find me?”
I start walking towards the building, and I grab Daniel’s arm so he stays with me.
I know things are changing fast. It’s crazy. A few minutes and a few words can transform your entire
world just like that.
“Jenna told me Coney Island, so here I am.”
“That’s it?”
“It’s not like you were hard to find.”
Fuck, maybe there’s a reason I chose a vacation rental that’s even closer than the airport.
“Don’t downplay your sleuthing skills.”
Daniel deftly shifts his arm out of my hand, and laces our fingers together.
Then, he looks at me with that smile, and I feel the heat and weightlessness as strongly as ever.
“You don’t mind me tracking you down?”
“No, not this time.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re showing me where I belong.”
Daniel looks away, nodding like he understands but clearly trying to figure out what the hell I mean.
To tell the truth, I’m not sure myself, but I almost start crying again when I say it.
The weather’s especially nice today, and the crowds around Coney Island are growing large and
rowdy. Things are starting to get crazy crowded when we finally walk into the loft building.
“Not bad,” Daniel comments when we walk into the loft. “What is this, an Airbnb?”
“A lady never tells. Now, excuse me while I go brush my fucking teeth.”
I do a little spin while walking to the bathroom. I’m actually starting to like this place, a change of
heart that evolved over the last thirty seconds since I walked through the door with Daniel.
I go into the bathroom by myself and feel a pang of apprehension that being alone in the bathroom is
somehow going to break the spell of the outdoors, that I’ll suddenly start revisiting the uncertain—and
maybe even the misery of the past few days now that I’m out of the enchanting seaside air.
I give my teeth a thorough brushing, and it doesn’t happen. I still feel warm and excited at the
thought of what the future holds—and even warmer and a bit tingly at the thought of tomorrow.
Just to be sure of both my feelings and my oral hygiene, I floss and then rinse with mouthwash for a
full minute.
I feel even warmer, even more tingly—this is where I belong.
Well, to be more accurate, where I belong is in the room with Daniel, who’s being very quiet out
there.
“You’re still here!” I cry out joyfully as I leave the bathroom. Daniel’s sitting on the cheap little
loveseat, resting his arm on the back.
“Of course I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere. Nothing could move me.”
 “Is that so?”
I jump onto the loveseat and land on Daniel’s lap.
“Still not moving,” he whispers about a split second before I start the kiss I’ve been waiting for.
We both dive into it deeply, our lips and tongues desperate for a profoundly passionate kiss. Daniel
falls slowly onto his back as I push against him and explore his mouth aggressively with my tongue.
After Daniel’s flat on his back, I climb on top of him and draw my tongue slowly from his mouth. I
raise my head up just enough to look him in the eye.
“You still not moving?” I ask in a low growl.
“I could try…”
I grab Daniel’s shoulders and hold him down on the couch, pushing myself up slightly while
pushing my lower half against his cock, which has grown long and incredibly hard in his pants.
“What was that?” I ask with a grin.
“Argument conceded.”
I hold onto Daniel’s shoulders, but he’s able to reach up and gently stroke my hair. That sends a
serious shiver of heat through me, and I ease my grip.
Daniel’s hand moves down to my tits, and he starts teasing the area around my nipples through my t-
shirt.
“Fuck!” I yell, longing to get out of my clothes quicker than I can tear them off. “Hold on!”
I rip the shirt up over my head and fling it as hard as I can towards the bathroom door.
“So, we’re doing that now?” Daniel reaches down and starts removing his own shirt.
“That’s right. Let’s get a move on.”
I start undoing my bra when the sight of Daniel’s bare pecs lobs me into a hypnotic state. My hands
cannot do anything but fall onto them, and Daniel helps out by unfastening my bra as I run my hands up and
down his chest and stomach, taking in every detail of his beautifully toned muscles.
A barely audible little moan escapes me as I move my hands up and down Daniel’s chest, then his
abs, going a little lower each time, as he teases my tits.
I moan more loudly, and so does Daniel, when my hands reach his waist and the bottom of my
palms come to rest tantalizingly close to his stiff, throbbing member—still enclosed in his pants.
“I’m so fucking wet,” I manage to say through labored breathing.
“You don’t fucking say.”
Daniel starts sitting up, and I move with him until we’re both up against the couch and revisiting
that earlier kiss.
After a few minutes, Daniel leans back and asks an important question.
“Does this place come with a bedroom, or what?”
 Daniel


We’re both under the spell now.
I wasn’t feeling it yet, not like this, when I was just wandering around Coney Island, searching
hopelessly for Rose...for my love.
It sounds fucking cheesy, I know, but I already said that I’m under the spell. We both are.
It clicked for me, under today’s brilliantly blue sky, with the waves lapping against the shore,
breathing the salty air. I was under the spell—and I still am now.
I had felt it ever since I first laid eyes on Rose in that quirky little tea shop, and I had felt it when I
shouted that I loved her at the top of my lungs.
But it wasn’t until after she got sick on the sand, and I ran over in a haze of concern...it wasn’t until
after she asked me to say those words again...
That’s when I went under the spell by the ocean—and I’m still there.
I’m still so very much fucking there.
I’m so there that I almost walked around Rose’s rental with my sand-caked shoes, before I threw
them out in the hallway while she was in the bathroom.
And now, well, we’re both losing a lot more of our clothes, stumbling into the bedroom of Rose’s
Coney Island vacation rental.
“You’re so fucking lucky I extended this for one more night,” she informs me.
“I’ve never felt luckier,” I agree.
I’m trying to undo my belt so I can get my damn pants off my stupid, eager body.
For once, my cock is not showing any signs of slowing down its unbounded enthusiasm. Goddamn,
I must really be in fucking love.
“Having some trouble?” Rose purrs in a sugary voice that holds a maddeningly sexy edge just
below the surface.
“Not at all.” I’m still fumbling with my blasted belt buckle in the doorway to Rose’s loft’s
bedroom.
“I can’t take it anymore,” Rose shrieks, and she charges towards me with her hands out.
I throw my own hands up in surrender, which is the right decision because Rose needs room to grab
the waist of my pants like it’s a steering wheel.
With her hands gripped securely onto my pants and belt, Rose begins pulling me ferociously back in
the direction she came from, over to the bed in the middle of the room.
I am not objecting to Rose’s pulling on any level; in fact, I’m assisting her in the best way I can by
trotting in the bed’s direction. She decides to throw me for a loop, though, when she twists me around to
her left side and tries to throw me onto the bed.
 I oblige by leaping in that direction.
I end up falling on my side, on top of the noisy spring mattress.
Rose falls with me, landing on her side, facing me while we listen to the springs buckle under our
weight.
“This is going to be a noisy one,” I say with a chuckle.
“Wanna bet?” Rose challenges before grabbing at my pants again, with a renewed intensity.
I let her do her thing, and this time she succeeds in getting the damn things down, all the way past
my knees, letting my rigid cock pop up freely into the bedroom air.
Rose’s hands, both of them, go straight for my cock.
With the starved look in her eye, I expect her to wrap her hands around my shaft immediately.
Keeping that hungry, determined look in her eye, she throws me for another loop by gently feeling my cock
with her fingertips, moving them lightly and slowly all around my member.
I utter some nonsensical sound as I close my eyes in ecstasy.
Rose mimics my mumblings, and I open my eyes to see her sassy smirk as she tightens her hold on
my cock.
I reach down and undo the button on Rose’s jeans as we both rotate into a better position—one in
which we’re both completely on the bed.
I move my fingers gradually into Rose’s panties as she starts working my cock with more vigor. It
turns out that she is indeed so fucking wet.
“Oh, fuck,” she moans, and finally grips my cock with conviction. “Keep going, please!”
My fingers continue on their slow, careful path, teasing Rose’s pussy lips coyly, staying just out of
reach of her clit. Her soft moans grow in volume.
Rose’s hands drop away from my cock as she loses focus. I know she’s almost there.
“Wait,” she pants, and pulls down her jeans and panties entirely, which makes me start to lose
focus.
But I try to stay on course. I watch Rose’s spectacular cinnamon eyes as I pick up where I left off.
Rose belts out a giggly shriek when I start teasing her lips again. I slow the pace of my fingers more
and more as I get closer to her clit.
“Oh, Daniel, come the fuck on,” she scolds me quietly.
Then it all starts happening at a rapid-fire pace.
What I intend to do is start running my fingers at a glacial tempo, taking all the time I need to send
Rose into new, uncharted states of escalating, unquenchable desire until she finally succumbs to the abyss
of a mind-blowing orgasm.
Yet as soon as my fingers start to move again, Rose fucking comes right away—really fucking hard.
She grips my cock in both hands when she’s barely even finished.
I take in one last glimpse of Rose’s remarkable eyes in the ensuing blur, and in the literal blink of
an eye, she’s moved down to my cock, licking slowly from the base up to the tip—and back.
“Ah, Jesus Christ!” I yelp as she keeps going.
Then she stops abruptly, and I hear myself still breathing heavily, my head sinking into the pillow.
“You like teasing, do you?” I hear her coo.
“I...I think I just lost all sense of space and time.”
I await Rose’s response—but I’m not prepared for the sensation of her tongue moving slowly
around my cock again, exploring every facet of it, every nuance.
I’m not exaggerating when I say I’m losing sense of space and time.
Maybe I’m on a squeaky mattress in a rented loft somewhere on the southern coast of Brooklyn, but
when Rose takes the tip of my cock into her mouth, I might as well be on another planet, in another
universe, in another dimension.
I could be anywhere and have no idea which way is up because I think my mind is melting.
I moan loudly and deeply, but it sounds somewhere off in the distance. I’m just floating here, in this
realm of unheard-of beauty and pleasure.
“Argh!”
I open my eyes to see the ceiling of the loft clearly as I come crashing down from whatever high I
was on—and now I’m coming all over the wall behind the bed.
The mattress is starting to rise and fall in a steady rhythm, and the springs are making an ungodly
noise. I don’t know why, and I can’t be bothered to care.
Every last ounce of emotional and physical tension has been thoroughly drained from me—and I
still feel small waves of euphoric pleasure traveling through my limbs.
“Hey!”
I look over my left shoulder, toward the sound of Rose’s voice, and I see why the mattress is
making so much noise.
Rose is on her feet, in the middle of the mattress, bouncing up and down lightly.
“I know jumping’s not a good idea,” she says, “but this is fun enough.”
The vision of Rose’s tits bobbing wildly sends all my blood rushing straight back to my cock. I
immensely enjoy watching Rose take in that show with sheer joy, even clapping her hands a couple times
as she witnesses my dick springing to rock-hard life.
I roll over onto my other side and see my pants on the floor. I reach into the left front pocket and
pull out my wallet.
“What are you doing?” Rose asks casually, still bouncing.
I pull out the one condom I have, hidden behind my driver’s license.
“I’m trying to always have one on me no matter what.” I place the condom in an easy-to-reach spot
by a pillow.
“You ready to use that now?”
 I turn back towards Rose and bask in the sight of her smiling and lightly bouncing. I have no doubt
it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
I lie silently and appreciate this perfect moment.
Then I rise to my feet, facing Rose as she continues to jump up and down, grinning radiantly.
“I’m just putting it nearby—the condom, I mean...in case I need it later.”
I see Rose helping herself to an eyeful of my cock, which is still as stiff as it’s ever been.
“But first,” I continue, “it’s your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
“To feel so good that you’ll rise above the limits of time and space.”
“Um, okay. Then give me my fucking turn already.”
 Rose


Rise above the limits of time and space, he says.
Hmm.
Daniel’s wording gives me pause for a second. I mean, it can’t be that good for him― or anyone,
for that matter. It just sounds a bit over the top and kind of strange.
But I’m not averse to seeing what Daniel has in store for me.
Not while he’s standing across from me on the bed, his hard cock just a few inches away from me
and the sun coming through the venetian blinds and glistening off his chiseled physique.
Heck, I’ll even make the first move—well, he’s moving, too—and we both fall toward each other
and into each other’s arms...
And we lose balance, collapsing onto the mattress and inciting it to squeak like it’s maybe never
squeaked before.
“I don’t know about you,” Daniel says softly after placing a small kiss on my shoulder, “but I think
sticking to memory foam is a good idea these days.”
Daniel moves his gentle kissing closer to my tits.
“Agreed,” I reply breathily. “Or at least something quieter than metal...ooh…springs.”
This mattress is clearly not made out of memory foam, however, or any quiet material, as the
springs continue their brash, creaky tune.
When Daniel and I get back to the modern world with more discreet mattresses, we can have all the
quiet fun we want.
But today, in Coney Island, shit’s gonna get loud.
Daniel’s progressing gradually down toward my belly button, and I’m already writhing with the
sensuality of his perfect kisses and the anticipation of where he’s going to be focusing very shortly.
I squirm with increasing intensity when I feel heat and the energy of Daniel’s mouth getting
deliciously close to my cunt. When he finally gets so near to it that the anticipation is overwhelming and
I’m nearly grinding my ass on the sheets and about to come a second time, he stops and stays still.
“You fucking tease, Daniel! What’s with you today?”
As I fully expect him to, Daniel remains motionless―yet so close. Motionless and close enough
that I start writhing slowly again…and breathing heavily…and feeling my body temperature climb to
Himalayan heights.
“Oh.”
I’m even moaning a bit, and he hasn’t even fucking started again.
Oh, there he goes, licking my left inner thigh so carefully, so meticulously, getting as close as he can
to my actual goddamn pussy—close enough that I’m nearly ready to grab his head and shove his face in it,
but stopping to move to my right inner thigh and running his tongue in maddening cycles getting closer, so
enticingly close to it feeling so amazingly good…
Yet I know it’s coming, I know he’ll get there, and the thought of that moment soon to come elicits a
small pleasured moan, followed by a louder moan as the moment does come.
Daniel works my pussy with his skillful tongue, licking my lips from bottom to top and taking his
sweet, wonderful, fucking miraculous time.
I hear my voice groaning crudely and riotously, sounding just out of fucking control.
Because I am out of fucking control. Holy shit.
Daniel’s tongue is making the transition from the wide focus of slowly licking my pussy to moving
in more intricate patterns, crisscrossing and moving diagonally, all while maintaining that same
deliberate, thorough approach.
“Oh, holy shit!” My exclamation almost sounds like a prayer the way I say it.
I sink deeper into the bed, or I feel like I’m sinking deeper at least. I’m staring up at the ceiling,
nothing but a plain white surface and a small lighting fixture. But I can tell my vision is getting blurry and
everything is taking on a faint, colorful aura.
Daniel’s tongue is now orbiting my clit, taking painstaking care to get near, but not too near it.
I notice that I’m moving in the same rhythm and at the same measured tempo as Daniel’s tongue-
work—thrusting my cunt back and forth.
“Don’t stop, keep it up, keep doing it.”
The words are absconding from my mouth; I can’t help but blab them out. That’s how badly I need
for this to continue.
I hear my own feral groaning kick in again as Daniel’s tongue reaches my clit. It sounds almost as if
it’s coming from another room or another universe.
My eyes are closed now, and I’m seeing weak colors. Daniel’s tongue continues another long,
leisurely lap, and I start yelling gibberish as I’m consumed by a massive climax.
At some point during my historic orgasm, I open my eyes and see the white ceiling, and I hear my
own tense, excited breathing crest then gradually lose intensity as I’m overcome by a remarkable sense of
calm.
My vision comes back into focus in plenty of time to see Daniel crawl up next to me.
Daniel’s eyes are on me, and they’re amazingly easy to read—they’re full of adoration, jubilance,
and anticipation of what I’m going to say next.
“Fuck, Daniel, you’re right.”
Daniel gingerly clears a few hairs from my face. He’s positively glowing with warmth, and so am I.
“So…did you rise above the limits?”
“I think so. I definitely climbed to some crazy heights, and I fell gently back to earth.”
“Making you feel that way makes me feel that way, if that makes sense.”
 “I think so.”
Daniel’s glowing with warmth, with love, as he regards me quietly.
I could stay like this for eternity.
“I feel like you’ve got something more to say, Rose.”
“Um, I do. This is like the ultimate afterglow right now.”
Daniel falls onto his back so he’s facing the ceiling, and I do the same so we’re lying side by side,
in the same position, looking skyward.
Simply lying like this next to Daniel feels really freaking good.
“More accurate words have never been spoken, Rose. But...”
Daniel lets his unfinished thought hang there until I have to sit up on the bed and confront him about
it.
“But what?”
Daniel sits up and turns toward me.
“But if that’s the case, then we wouldn’t really need to continue. At least not today...”
“Yeah, if we’re that satisfied...”
“Do you really want to call it a day already?”
“Not on your fucking life, my friend.”
“Me, neither.”
“Good.”
We tumble straight into each other and pick up our earlier, untamed kiss where we left it, our
tongues acting ravenous and insatiable.
Somehow, we ignite a sort of wrestling match while we’re kissing, with both of us leaning hard
into each other.
Ultimately, Daniel relents, and he ends up flat on his back with me on top of him.
“Okay,” Daniel says after we’re done kissing and starts unwrapping his condom. “I’m glad I had
this with me.”
“Are you sure you need that? Today?”
“Maybe, maybe not, but it’s open now, and I’d like you to do the honors.”
Alright, it’s not so bad. I can obviously get his cock to full rigidity at any time I choose, and if he
needs this before we fuck, well, it could be a fun little ritual.
I sit up and move slightly back, straddling Daniel and getting into prime position for more
transcendent pleasure.
After taking the condom from Daniel’s hand, I begin shifting my weight up and down very softly,
activating the mattress squeak sounds and allowing my tits to bounce nicely.
I smile with a touch of campiness as I hold up the condom.
I regard Daniel’s throbbing, rigid dick, appreciating the way it bounces subtly with the mattress.
I’m well on my way back to being soaking wet, but feeling Daniel’s deeply firm cock under my fingers as
I lovingly roll on the condom is enough to get me beyond ready.
I slither up and situate myself above Daniel’s exquisite member. As if we’re a world-class
gymnastic team turning in a gold medal performance, we move fluidly together as Daniel’s cock starts
making its way into my wet, waiting pussy.
Daniel’s cock proceeds to slide perfectly into my cunt, and I savor the sensation while easing
myself down.
Things get blurry as I take in more of Daniel’s dick, and the surges of blindingly intense pleasure
blooms into an ecstatic sea of bliss with each new inch.
And we’re only getting started.
I only take about half of Daniel’s dick at first, and that feels amazing enough, but the transcendence
starts to kick in the third or fourth time when I lower myself completely onto his cock and we start
gradually increasing our tempo.
My vision blurs, and the world starts shaking mildly, and I hear Daniel’s voice and my voice
roaring in a duet of pure rapture.
I close my eyes tight to focus fully on the sensation of Daniel’s gigantic cock fitting me perfectly,
again and again.
How could anything possibly feel this fucking good?
I lean backward a little and throw my head back in bliss. Our hands find their way to each other’s
bodies, with Daniel stroking my tits and me lightly caressing his toned pecs.
That’s as much as we can take, and we both come with abandon.
After yet another journey to the sublime, Daniel and I lay on our backs, looking wordlessly at the
vacant ceiling as the afternoon sun shines on us through the blinds.
 Rose


“I can’t believe I’m five months pregnant already.”
A nostalgic burst of energy plants a smile on my face as I lovingly rub my swelling belly.
Daniel tosses me a grin and places his hand over mine. “Is the baby kicking right now?”
“If I stay very still, we can probably feel some light little flutters,” I explain and take his hand to
direct it over to the top of my little mound.
“Here…” I whisper and bite my lip in concentration. “Keep your hand right here.”
I press his hand onto my belly, and after a few seconds, the baby responds with a sharp and swift
kick with the cutest little accuracy.
Daniel squeals and move his hand over my belly, laughing with delight. “Holy shit, we have a little
soccer player bouncing around in there!”
“I know!” I shriek with happiness and glance out the passenger side window.
We’re in the car, en route to our next doctor’s appointment. The doctor explained that this visit will
cover the anatomy scan.
I grin back at Daniel. “I’m so excited to find out if it’s a boy or a girl.”
Daniel takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’ll be beyond thrilled and over the moon either way,” he
confesses.
“Me, too,” I say and give him a warm smile in return. “I can’t wait to see the little pictures of his or
her cute and chubby face.”
“That will indeed be one of the best parts.” Daniel stares out the windshield in front of him and
laughs with the fondness of anticipation.
“One thing is for sure…” I begin.
“What’s that, sweetie?” He turns to glance at me.
“This baby is going to be incredibly loved.”
“Hell yeah, they are.” Daniel chuckles. “Spoiled, too.”
“By your mom, I’m sure,” I tease and roll my eyes.
“Speaking of which,” Daniel says and unscrews the cap to his water bottle before glugging down a
few sips. “She’s going to meet us at the hospital.”
“When? Today?” I ask and reposition myself in the seat. I hate to complain that it’s already
becoming so uncomfortable to complete simple tasks when I’m only halfway there.
“Yep.” Daniel nods. “She can’t wait to find out the gender either.”
“Maybe we should have a gender reveal party.” I propose the idea. “It would be fun. Don’t you
think?” I give Daniel a glance.
He nods. “Absolutely. I think that would be perfect. We could invite friends and family over, and
then maybe pull pink or blue balloons out of a box or something like I’ve seen on social media.”
I’m thrilled at the idea. “We sure have come a long way, haven’t we?”
“It’s been a whirlwind of fun,” Daniel admits with a chuckle.
We live in one of his resort hotels now, still in Manhattan, but it’s his newest venture and his “other
baby”, so to speak.
I love all the perks of luxurious amenities, and the process of adapting was exponentially short for
me.
At first, we were a little surprised to learn of the pregnancy because Daniel was still having a
difficult time coming without a condom in place.
The way the doctor explained it to us was there was the possibility that the condom we used could
have had a hole in it, or perhaps there was so much cum in that one load that it overflowed and spilled out
of the condom and into me.
Pretty sure that was it because Daniel has some fucking massive loads of cum.
Either way, we are taking this lovely little surprise of nature as a beautiful blessing and a fateful
gift from the universe. It was meant to be, condom issue or not.
I turn away, looking back out the window so that Daniel won’t become alarmed by my tears,
although they’re the happy kind.
I’m remarkably blessed and have so much to be thankful for. Over the last several months, I’ve
become closer and closer to his mom, and the gesture of her coming to the hospital to meet us today might
seem minor, but to me it’s astronomical.
When we get to the hospital, Daniel squeezes into a spot in the parking garage that’s conveniently
just outside of the elevator doors.
Relief flushes over me as I realize I won’t have to trot far to get there because the baby is currently
using my bladder as its first ever squeeze toy.
When we get to the lobby of my doctor’s office on the eighth floor, I hear the familiar chime of
Daniel’s mom’s voice.
“Hello!” she greets us and gleefully jogs over to wrap her arms around me and my baby bump.
I open my arms to embrace her, too, as she pats me on the back, and then she pulls away to size me
up, drinking me in with joy.
“Darling…you look incredible.”
“Thanks.” I shift my weight with embarrassment and tuck an unruly strand of hair behind my ear. “I
feel like a whale.”
“Are you kidding?” She clicks her tongue to protest defiantly. “You are stunning, truly glowing.”
“Well, if you keep it up with the compliments, I just may get a swelled head, too,” I joke.
“Anytime you need a boost of self-confidence, just let me know, and I’ll be happy to indulge you.”
She winks at me and whispers, “Pregnancy looks good on you, kid.”
 “Okay, Mother.” Daniel sighs with artificial annoyance. “Give the woman some breathing room.”
He pulls me away from his mother’s grasp, always acting protective over me and the baby.
“No, really, it’s fine.” I laugh because in reality, I’m delighted by his mother and thrilled to have
her on my team.
We greet Ruben, and the four of us walk to the entrance to my doctor’s office just off to the right of
the main lobby on this floor.
Everyone takes a seat in the back of the waiting room while I sign in and do the usual paperwork
for my appointment.
A couple of minutes later, I join them with a smile on my face, plopping down beside Daniel, who
pats my knee with exuberance.
“I’m so excited,” I whisper to the group.
“Me, too,” his mother squeaks, practically unable to control her enthusiasm.
“I’m just hoping for a healthy baby,” Daniel admits, to which we all nod in agreement.
“I concur with that,” I say. “A healthy baby is the true goal.”
A few minutes later, we’re called to the back. I have to go through all the routine motions of giving
a urine sample and getting my weight and blood pressure checked.
After that, we head into the room where I slip into a gown before allowing everyone else back in.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Dr. Farland,” my doctor of Hawaiian descent greets the family.
“We’re so thrilled and honored to be a part of this historical event and witness it in person,”
Daniel’s mom states with a dramatic wave of her hand.
I laugh at the adorableness of his mom as Dr. Farland squeezes the cold jelly onto my round and
exposed belly. Then she places her ultrasound wand on top of it.
The baby immediately comes on screen, waving around its beautiful tiny fists.
“Wait a second here…” Dr. Farland trails off quietly and furrows her brow at the monitor.
My heart leaps into my throat and threatens to be vomited up in fear.
“Is everything alright?” I say with alarm.
“Yes…” Dr. Farland continues vaguely as she pushes her instrument around over my stomach. “It’s
just…I think I see two babies here.”
Daniel and I glance at each other in shock, then back to the doctor to see if we’re hearing her
correctly.
“I’m sorry.” Daniel shakes his head and speaks up. “Did you just say you think you see two babies
in there on that screen?”
I glance back at Dr. Farland, waiting on eggshells for the answer, a little panic-stricken, but a little
excited, too.
Dr. Farland has been my gynecologist even before pregnancy, and I’ve known her a long time, so I
trust her with my life and my baby’s life…whether that ends up being multiples or not.
 She finally grins and points to the screen. “Yes, it’s twins. See there?”
I squint my eyes. Then after further pointing out, I can see the two bodies on the screen, swirling,
dancing, and playing with each other in there.
Tears of joy fill my eyes. “I can’t believe it! Twins!”
“They look perfectly healthy,” Dr. Farland announces.
“Girls or boys?” Daniel’s mom chimes in with the one question whose answer we are all dying to
hear.
“We can find that out now if the little ones will cooperate,” Dr. Farland says and pushes the wand
further against my belly, trying to expose the parts between the babies’ legs.
“This one is a…” She sticks her tongue out in concentration. “Boy!”
The room yells with delight.
“A boy!” Daniel yelps with excitement. “I’m going to have a son!”
“Congratulations, sweetie,” his mom says fondly and pats his back.
“What about the other one?” I squeal.
Dr. Farland moves between the second baby’s legs. “This one is a…”
She halts, and the suspense makes me feel like I might burst and go into labor right then and there.
“It’s a girl!” she finally exclaims, and we all roar with excitement.
I’m having twins, and I get the best of both worlds, too. Daniel leans down to hug me, and we
squeeze each other tight with joy from the great news.
I’m in tears―the pure magic of the blissful moment takes over and consumes me, so I don’t notice
at first that Daniel slowly bends to one knee in front of me.
I glance down at him from the examination table.
“Honey, what are you doing?” I chuckle and wipe the tears from my cheeks.
He retrieves a tiny red box from the front pocket of his jeans and places it directly in front of me. I
swallow hard, knowing what’s coming, but I need another moment to compose myself.
“Rose, I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” His breath hitches for a
second. “Will you please do me the honor of being my wife?”
Daniel is a blurry figure in front of me through the fresh batch of tears rolling down my cheeks.
Today is one for the history books: it’s completely perfect.
I can’t move because I’m so profoundly in shock by all the events of the past few minutes. I’m still
trying to process and digest the splendor of the day…but I manage to whimper a tiny yes while nodding
vigorously.
I hear everyone cheering and clapping as Daniel stands up and places the rock—a huge and chunky
diamond—on my ring finger.
He kisses my lips and makes me tingle all over. “I love you so much,” he breathes into my neck,
causing a shiver of pleasure to surge through me.
 “I love you, too.” I sigh with contentment and make a mental note to freeze this perfect memory in
my mind forever.
This baby bargain gave me way more than I bargained for―and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
 Now or Never




By Vivien Vale


Copyright 2018 by Crimson Vixens
All rights reserved



This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.
This work intended for adults only.


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 Kat


I wasn’t completely expecting Jason to be here, but I’m still disappointed he’s not. Or, at least, he
hasn’t been here for the past few days, so I’ve been lying on this chaise, looking nonchalantly that way
and this way.
I’m not such a nonchalant person, it turns out, because once I finally push my legs over and walk to
the beachside bar, Miguel, the young man who’s been bringing me my afternoon cocktail, asks when the
person I was waiting for would be arriving.
“I’m not—I’m, um, alone,” I say. Making my voice light, I add, “I’m having some much-needed
quiet time.”
Miguel—sweet, sweet Miguel—stammers and apologizes.
“I misunderstood, Ms. Aviva. For some reason,” he says, “I thought—”
I wave away his apology. Sweet Miguel isn’t crazy. I’ve basically been jerking my head around
every time I hear the sound of people entering the hotel’s private beach. I shouldn’t quit my day job to be
a covert CIA agent.
Still, no Jason.
I didn’t come here for Jason. Well, not just for Jason, but I’m curious about what happened to him. I
came back to see if he stuck to his word and if he stayed in this “forever country,” as he always called the
Riviera Maya region of Mexico.
He said—this was seven years ago now—he would never leave Tulum once we got here, and I
understand now why he wanted to come. It’s beautiful here—in certain areas of the beach, the only sound
is breaking waves and wind. The Caribbean Sea is every shade of turquoise.
I think of all the plans we made. Spending weekends on Cozumel, an island off the mainland. He
said we’d stay out of the city, stopping only long enough to rent two scooters and then ride the
circumference of the island to its undeveloped east side.
Where everything would finally be okay.
The months we were together were easily the most extraordinary of my life.
After everything blew up in our faces, though, I packed my bags and left Jason and plans for
Mexico behind me, focusing on my safe life of deadlines and bills, awful spin classes, and too much
wine. All I kept of our plans for tucked away in my heart.
Before he said it had to be Mexico, I asked him to come to DC with me.
“If you like it there, you could—or, you know, we could—stay for a while,” I told him. “We could
come to Tulum once or twice a year for retreats and workshops. I mean, I don’t want to be working on
Capitol Hill forever. I have, I don’t know, maybe five years left at most. Any longer and I’ll keel over
dead, probably.”
 Of course, I had more years of work in me than I realized. When I told Jason I only had five years
left, I didn’t count on the promotions I received and the campaigns I got to run. I didn’t count on being
given the lead to craft and lobby for the congressman’s signature legislation.
I didn’t count on years after the law had been passed, that it would be threatened again and again.
Of course, I didn’t expect that. Not after all the years we gave to passing it. I didn’t expect it to be
gutted completely, not after I had given over my entire twenties to it.
But it was declawed, and I’m gutted. Effectively, everything the law was supposed to do has been
undercut. It’s a nothing law now—it does nothing, it helps no one, and I didn’t count on how much that
would hurt and how personally I would take it.
And, of course, I didn’t count on Barrett. I didn’t count on meeting him one random Thursday night
at the Black Cat, and then I didn’t count on him moving in with me two months later.
I for sure didn’t expect to be his boss three months after that. Then, of course, I was surprised by
the exquisite, piercing pain and humiliation of watching my relationship disintegrate in front of my
colleagues, the congressman, and our entire close-knit staff.
And six months ago, when I thought the dust had settled, I should have known something was up
when the voices hushed when I opened my office door and walked into the room where everyone but the
congressman sat. Barrett is getting married to Melinda, a press secretary who works for a congresswoman
two offices down. A girl, incidentally, I hired as an intern four years ago.
Of course.
And so it goes.
The happy couple should have said their vows this very afternoon. Melinda and Bare together
forever starting this weekend.
Then I got the cryptic message.
Now or never.
I gave myself the week off and booked a ticket to the last place I ever thought I’d go: Tulum.
And if all my instincts are correct, at some point, Jason should appear.
“Uno mass,” I say to Miguel, making my American accent as thick as possible.
Miguel laughs at me gamely and takes his time making my third margarita. He slides it to me.
I incline my head. “Grassy-ass, sir.” And I wave over my shoulder back to my chaise.
I misjudge the distance and nearly fall back into the chair. My drink splashes.
“Shit,” I mutter, moving the glass into my left hand and licking the right one.
“I bet it tastes salty,” a voice says. A voice I’d know anywhere. The voice that haunts me.
Jason.
I can hear his smile.
I look up, and there he is, staring down at me, dripping from the sea like the most fucking gorgeous
demigod you’ve ever seen.
 Jason


Her tongue darts out to graze her lips, licking up the margarita salt still lingering there. My eyes are
drawn to them, and instantly a thousand memories assault my brain, my body responding to them as it
always does.
“You know I like it salty, Jason,” she replies, her provocative voice and suggestive smirk almost
masking the shock I see in her eyes.
And fuck, if her words don’t make my already-stiff cock turn to pure steel.
Katherine fucking Aviva.
I want to ask her what she’s doing here. Why now? It’s been seven fucking years, and she just now
shows back up in Tulum and gives me that irresistible smile, flirting with me about how fucking salty she
likes it like no time has passed.
“What are you doing here, Kat?”
It comes out even harsher than I intend, and I’m certainly not trying to sugarcoat anything. But I need
to fucking know. Did she get my message? Does she know what’s at stake?
Her smile falters for half a second, but then it’s right back in place. She leans back gracefully in her
beach lounger and takes a slow sips of her cocktail, looking up at me from under the brim of her hat,
taking her goddamn time.
That seems to be her modus operandi. It’s not like I actually believed she’d come like she said she
would—after she’d done all the things she said she needed to do before she was ready to explore what
else life had in store.
Whatever the fuck that means.
All I know is she was supposed to meet me here.
And again, it’s been seven fucking years.
Kat shifts in her chair, and I’m sure it’s a measured move because it has its precise desired effect.
Her full, round tits bounce slightly, threatening to prove that no, string bikinis are not, in fact, made to
keep anything contained.
And fuck, that sparks another round of images in my head. It’s like they’re coming at me from
everywhere, attacking from all sides. The sexy intermingled with the sentimental.
In my mind, I see her splayed out beneath me as I drive into her tight, wet pussy, then I spray hot
cum all over the most fucking fantastic rack I’ve ever had the good fortune to fuck.
My cock twitches with need.
That image is replaced by one of us on a dark sandy beach in the early hours of the morning, our
slick, naked bodies twined together, and the crashing waves are the only sound we can hear over our
thundering hearts. The whispered I love you’s.
 My heart clenches with pain.
Still she says nothing.
Fuck this.
I huff out an angry breath and turn to leave without another word.
I’m not doing this. Not today. Not ever if I have a fucking say. It doesn’t matter how much is at
stake.
“Jason, wait.”
The urgency in her voice stops me, though. I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth, the muscle in
my jaw ticking.
There’s also a hint of nostalgia in the way she says my name. And a hint of pain.
Good. I hope she feels fucking miserable. After the way she just up and left me, sending me here
then never showing, I hope she’s suffered through every single fucking day of the last seven years. Just
like I have.
I sigh and look back at her. “What, Kat? I’m not in the mood to play your games.”
Her eyes drop to my cock, and I don’t even try to hide the fact that I’m hard. What does she expect?
She looks just as fucking hot as she ever did.
Time’s been good to her. Besides, it’s not like she doesn’t know what kind of effect she’s always
had on me.
“Jason,” she says again, standing this time and closing the distance between us. “I got your
message.”
I look closely at her, seeing the same woman I knew seven years ago. But I see something else too
—something new. She looks almost…haunted.
Well, welcome to the fucking club, baby.
The ghost of this woman—of us—has followed me around like a fucking albatross. All the things I
could have done differently. The choices we should have made.
Fuck.
I draw in a sharp breath when she places a hand on my chest in a gesture so intimate, so familiar,
it’s like no time has passed.
How is it possible for her to still have this effect on me? She’s sucking me into her clutches, I can
almost feel it, with a single goddamn touch. It’s like she’s casting some kind of spell over me.
Kat reaches up with her other hand and runs her fingers across my stubble jaw.
And I can’t take it. I fucking snap.
Too many nights of what ifs and could have beens are enough to make me see this for what it is.
A chance to make things right.
I don’t know what brought her here, and I don’t even fucking know what kind of chance we could
even have after all this time.
 The only thing I know is that there’s never been another woman like Kat. And I’d be a fucking idiot
to walk away from her right now.
It’s like something in my brain shifts, and I stop thinking. I act on pure instinct, forgetting everything
about why we’re actually here together.
Grabbing Kat’s hips, I dig my fingers deeply into the soft flesh and yank her hard against me. She’s
not prepared for it, and she stumbles forward, clutching my arms to steady herself.
But it doesn’t matter because I’ve got her right where I want her—wedged up against me, my cock
straining against her bare stomach, and those gorgeous tits pressed into my chest.
“Fuck, Kat,” I growl. I can feel how hard her nipples are through the thin fabric of her swimsuit.
“Look what you do to me.”
One fucking look at her. That’s all it takes.
She lets out this sexy little whimper as she shamelessly rubs her body against mine. It’s like fucking
muscle memory. Our bodies recognize each other, drawn together like magnets, responding with an
intensity that takes me by surprise.
I’ve always told myself that if I ever saw her again, I wouldn’t do this. I wouldn’t go down this
same tired road with her.
Lies, all of it.
Because now that I have her here in my arms again? I know exactly what to do with her.
Driving my hands into her long waves, I fist my fingers in the strands and yank her head back,
forcing her to look at me. The gasp that escapes her lips makes me even harder.
I rock my hips into hers, wanting her so fucking bad. Then I lower my head, crushing my mouth to
hers in a kiss that unleashes an unstoppable ache for more.
And I know it’s a mistake because this woman is my kryptonite. I’m like an addict finally giving in
after seven years of sobriety.
But I don’t fucking care.
Kat will be mine.
Forever.
I’ll make goddamn sure of it this time.
Starting right the fuck now.
 Kat


I want to be Jason’s.
All over again. Like the way we were before. My eyes droop in the pleasure that’s going to come in
just a few seconds as his hard body begins to envelop me.
“Don’t you fucking close your eyes, Kat,” he says gruffly, and I feel his hands squeeze my ass
harder. I squirm as my eyes open. I look him deep in his blue eyes, and I can’t help myself.
I’m lost—transported back seven years ago.
When we were happy.
Before everything went to hell.
Jason used to work for my father back then. That’s before Maurice’s men killed Daddy. I wonder to
myself if Jason had still been working as Daddy’s bodyguard if he would have allowed the two black
Lincoln Continentals to pull up on opposite sides of Daddy’s Mercedes as it idled at a red light on 76th
and 5th Avenue.
Would Jason have been in the back seat?
No, he always insisted on driving Daddy when he was the bodyguard.
He probably would have seen something suspicious immediately. He probably wouldn’t have
waited for the windows on both cars to roll down. He probably would have peeled out long before the
guns were drawn and hundreds of bullets from automatic rifles were unloaded into Daddy’s white
Mercedes Maybach right there in broad daylight.
A gangland hit, the newspapers had called it. Unseen in the modern era of New York City with the
clean streets and broken windows method of policing. Well, this was broken windows, alright.
Jason would have stopped it if he were there.
But he wasn’t. He had already left.
Or…I had told him to go. The thing is, I never expected that he would stay away. I never expected
that I wouldn’t see him.
I thought that we would be separated for a while, that I’d be able to meet him there when the dust
settled after I told Daddy about us. He told me he loved me. He told me that he couldn’t live his life
without me.
I was so stupid to send him away.
But things didn’t go the way I thought they would.
I told myself so many things during those first months.
I told myself that it was the best thing to do. That a mob princess wasn’t supposed to fall in love
with her father’s bodyguard. That I was only doing what Daddy wanted when he forced me to stop seeing
Jason. Kept me from following behind.
 I told myself that we would never be happy. That I was going to college. I was going to leave this
world of crime, I was going to marry a Vanderbilt or an Astor, and my husband would be senator.
Yeah. More like I was going to cry into my pillow for two years and then pine for the other five.
Until today. When I saw Jason.
My legs are shaking as I take in his scent. I can’t believe what’s happening. I want to hold onto this
moment forever. I want to grab it and never let it go.
Because if I do—if I close my eyes for just one second—I’ll lose it.
“Jason,” I say slowly, my eyes looking into his. I can feel his hard cock pressing against my body.
My barely there bikini is ready to fall off, and I honestly couldn’t care less who is around us.
No one else exists when I’m with him.
Jason only replies by pulling me closer, if possible.
“Jason, I want to say,” I start, not knowing what exactly to say but knowing I need to say it. “I want
to say I’m sorry.”
His gaze changes. If anything, I can see him thinking.
Jason’s not a stupid man. He’s actually done quite well for himself after he was cast out by the
family.
I knew he was always capable of so much more than what he was doing. He was never meant to be
just a bodyguard. Just like he was never meant to be more than just a low-level enforcer.
But Jason had a hard life. Orphaned when he was five years old, he was taken in by the family.
Raised as a future soldier.
By the time he was eighteen years old, he had made a name for himself on the streets. He ran the
largest weapons running ring in the Tri-State Area—all under the watchful auspices of Daddy.
It was his guile and perseverance that first made Daddy bring him into our inner circle. To trust his
life in Jason’s hands.
I knew that Daddy was old-school through and through. To him, it was inconceivable that a mob
princess like myself would ever deign to associate with someone that did the dirty work. But I didn’t care
back then.
I still don’t.
“I just want you to know, Jason, that I…I love you,” I say almost shyly.
He looks at me.
“I fucking love you, Kat,” he says to me. “I love you fucking forever and fucking always. Don’t you
ever fucking forget that.”
This moment is perfect.
More than I ever hoped for.
I don’t think I could have even imagined it any better.
And that’s when the gunshots ring out.
 The glass shatters on the bar next to us.
It only takes a second for Jason to look around and see what’s going on. There’s screaming and
yelling.
I’m frozen.
“Get the fuck down!” he yells, throwing me to the ground. “Now!”
 Jason


“Get the fuck down! Now!” I shout, instinctively placing one hand on Kat’s neck and forcing her to
crouch. I hear more gunshots, the quick rat-tat-tat of semi-automatic guns drowning my thoughts and
allowing instinct to kick in.
Reaching behind my back, I grab my Colt, my fingers tightening around the cold metal as my heart
pumps boiling blood through my veins.
By the time I’m done, there’ll be a body count.
Grabbing Kat by the wrist, I drag her behind the counter and release the safety of my gun, my back
pressed against the wall.
“Jason, no!” she whispers, looking straight at me. Her face is as white as the first snow of
December, and her eyes are wide with terror. Even though she grew up used to violence and corruption,
she sure as fuck isn’t used to having a target on her back.
No wonder. She’s been trying to lead a normal life for years now—a life that wasn’t supposed to
involve me.
But I’m here now.
And I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone come between Kat and me. Point a gun at her, and you’ve just
signed your fucking death sentence.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she tells me again, placing one hand on my chest, right over my heart.
“Not again.”
“You won’t,” I tell her with a slight nod. At the same time, I hear footsteps all around us, shattered
glass being stepped on by heavy boots. If I stay here hiding, we’ll be doomed.
I need to act, and I need to do it right now.
I take one quick peek over the counter, and a fraction of a second later, I hear another gunshot. I
duck just before a rain of bullets falls against the counter, splinters of wood flying everywhere.
I counted five guys, three of them carrying handguns while the others have sawed-off shotguns.
They aren’t after Kat then; if that were the case, they would have just sent one guy.
No, they sent five assholes because they want to put me down. Well, that was a fucking mistake. If
you want my head, you better bring an army of sufficient size.
“Don’t move,” I tell Kat as I reach for my boot with my free hand. I grab the small blade I carry
there and, still with the Colt in my other hand, I take a deep breath and jump up to my feet.
Moving fast, I cock my left arm back and then throw the knife at the first guy I see. He tries to shoot
all the same, but by the time his finger squeezes the trigger, my blade is already buried deep in his neck.
“Get him!” one of them shouts, but I’m too fast.
Digging my heels into the floor, I place the palm of my left hand under the butt of the gun and take
aim. The first guy goes down like an empty paper bag, his eyes going vacant the moment my bullet pierces
his skull.
I hit the second guy twice—one time on the chest, the other right between the eyes—and then I duck
behind the counter once more.
“Jason…” Kat whispers my name, but I can’t bring myself to look at her. I don’t want her to see me
like this—the coldhearted man she tried to run away from, a man on a path of violence and chaos.
Rage wells up inside me fast. How do these motherfuckers dare come to me the moment I find Kat?
Why are they forcing me to be the old Jason once more?
I’ll make them pay.
I’ll make them fucking pay.
Gritting my teeth, I jump up to my feet once more. The moment I’m standing, I squeeze the trigger on
my gun, and the next guy collapses on the floor, a bright red painting his white shirt.
Jumping over the counter, I run straight toward the last man standing, and I take hold of his shotgun
before he has the time to do anything.
“Don’t you fuckin’ move,” I growl, pressing my Colt right between his eyes. I’m so close to him
now that I can smell the fear.
“P-please,” he stammers, and that just makes me want to squeeze the trigger even more. I know I
should be asking questions, but right now I just want to make him pay for putting Kat’s life in danger.
Fuck all questions, and fuck all answers.
“Jason, no!” I hear Kat say behind me, her mellow voice calming down all the rage consuming me
from the inside out. “Don’t...don’t be that man,” she urges me, slowly placing her hand over mine and
forcing me to lower the gun.
As I do it, I feel a glimmer of hope inside me. Maybe Kat’s right—maybe I don’t need to be the old
Jason. Maybe I can be the right man for her to love.
With her by my side, I can change. I know that.
“Go back,” I growl at the man cowering in front of me. “Tell everyone—come after me and you
better bring a second army…one just to bury the bodies.”
Emptying the shotgun, I throw it to the floor and then stash my Colt back on my belt. “Let’s go,” I
tell Kat, lacing my fingers with hers and dragging her out of this ruin of a place.
“Let’s go,” she whispers softly, running her tongue between her lips.
For a fraction of a second, I can’t help but believe it.
Maybe this time we can be together.
 Kat


Jason’s tongue on mine is the salve to near any situation. Even danger. Even ones that remind me of
everything that I’ve tried to leave behind.
I let my fingers belong to his, let my mouth belong to him, and I’m safe again for a moment.
A moment is all it takes.
A moment took away the one person who meant the most to me, and a moment can give him back.
Remembering what we had, what I might have in him again? Sometimes that’s all that keeps me going.
When I finally need to breathe again, I don’t let go of Jason. Because as much as I need him, that’s
how much he needs me. I breathe him in, inhaling the taste of not just his lips but also his pain. His
suffering. His struggle.
I mean, if I had any humor in this situation right now, I’d think how foolish those people are to mess
with a man who is a deadly weapon. I’m not just talking about what my hands go to grip beneath his belt.
Jason is dangerous. He could kill all of them and do away with their backup and their backup’s
backup. But I don’t find anything funny in this.
I know Jason doesn’t either. That’s why he tries to be a better man, even if he can’t see it. A life
still has value to him.
A wild flutter in my chest tells me that after all this time apart, my body and my heart know that it’s
always been Jason.
I want him to be mine, forever. I want a family. Something I never thought I’d say. I know Jason
wants it, too, someday, though he fears what kind of father he’d be.
Jason finally stops ravaging my mouth, only to move his kisses to my neck. We’re tucked away
somewhere in the shadows of the building now, far from the hail of gunshots that could have killed us
both.
Jason has me. I’m safe. I realize I don’t fear anything when I’m with him.
No. I just trust in him, and it makes me lighter and safer and freer than I’ve ever felt before. Even
though he’s one of the most dangerous men I know.
His mouth on my neck makes me shiver. His words take a moment to sink in before I realize the
meaning of what he’s saying. I’m so caught up in sensations.
“Told myself I’d never let you near anything like that again,” Jason growls against my skin.
I feel his teeth nipping at my flesh, a stinging sensation sharp against the once-tender kisses. He gets
back to the way he tenderly touched me, but there’s a possessiveness in how he holds me now that reveals
the raging fire inside.
“Jason, I know…” I say, but I already know my placating words aren’t enough to calm him.
I put my hand on his heart. My fingers find his chin. “Jason,” I say, my words like a prayer.
 This is all that ever calms him. And when we were apart, it was what I craved more than the feel of
him between my thighs or the way he breathed into my neck when he came inside me.
No, I missed this strength we find together more than anything, and I say this as a woman who has
had her eyes regularly roll back in her head from being fucked by this man.
Loving someone, even someone who fucks you incredibly, is so much more than anything else.
“Jason, we have this.” The words are almost stupid, I know. But these were the first words I said to
him the first time I saw a wildfire in his eyes that neither of us knew how to put out.
Something between us clicked, locked, and fell into place, and that’s who we are now. The span of
years means nothing.
Jason’s hand closes over mine, fingertips softly brushing my skin. The need is there, but it isn’t
cloying at him and taking over his actions, his thoughts.
He’s here with me.
That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t care how silly it sounds.
But something about the air changes. There’s nothing silly in what either of us wants now, no.
Now that the imminent danger has passed, we can revel in the moment. The fact that we’re finally
here together again.
Now the want is pure heat, electric lust practically crackling in the space between us. I close that
space, crushing my tits against the soft wall of his chest just to feel the two of us closer.
Jason’s fingers tuck under the crook of my chin, and he makes me look up at him. The way he kisses
me now isn’t sweet or tame. His tongue doesn’t wait for permission, but my mouth is already open for
him.
His arms pull me up against him, and he’s already tearing my clothes to tatters.
Blindly, my hands are tearing at his belt to release the cock I need inside me now. I mean, that’s the
other side of true intimacy. There’s the love—the inescapable way we both find solace in each other.
And there’s the way I need his cock stretching my pussy so perfectly that I forget my own name and
I’m reduced to a puddle of sweat and cum.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Jason says, his fingers on my pussy making me cry out a strangled yelp.
“I need you,” I tell him, my head falling back as I whimper.
He can take me from a normal person to a wanton, greedy-for-his-cock slut in a second or less, and
he knows it. I see the smug look on his face now and I figure, hey, he’s earned it.
He drops to his knees and buries that smug grin in the wetness of my pussy, and I can’t remember
any other thoughts. My hands fist his hair, and the pressure building within in me mounts higher with every
stroke of his tongue.
I think I hear myself saying “fuck” a few times, but there’s nothing more coherent in my moans
because my body is consumed with lust.
 Kat


I’m still dripping when he picks me up—his love, his ragdoll. Any ordinary day, I’m nothing more
than a plaything to his rippling muscles, but after the art that his tongue just performed on me, I’m putty in
his hands.
And for every bit that I am limp, his rock-hard man meat makes up for it. I’ve never had anyone like
Jason before.
No one has ever made me crave sex with them as much as he has. Even being totally satisfied, I am
still ready for more with him.
He makes me stand up and face him in front of the wall. Picking one leg up, he positions himself
before me and stares into my eyes as he enters deeply inside of me in one swift thrust. I know he’s wanted
this since the moment he saw me again, and there’s nothing I want more.
Not a word is said between us. I can feel the blood, sweat, and debris on his shoulders from the
escape. He enters me fully, balls deep, and only one thought remains in my mind: Jason.
I can feel his sinew and muscle tighten, stretch, and tighten again as I’m lifted up nearly a foot
higher and lowered back down onto him again, his cock remaining in me the whole time. I love this man
as I’ve never loved any man.
His pace quickens, and I know he loves how this feels just as much as I do. I tighten my pussy on
his cock. He loses his rhythm for a second, moaning as his passion builds.
He recovers quickly and continues his practiced stride in me.
I tell myself that I’ll hold out for him, that I’ll wait and come with him, but I know the lie even as I
think it. I can’t hold it any longer. My eyes roll back, I throw my head back, and I scream his name out.
“Jason!”
Quickly, a calloused hand comes over my mouth, silencing me, reminding me that more of them,
whoever they are, could still be out there. That we’re only safe if they don’t find us. That they’ll never
stop looking for us.
I fear I went too far as he pulls back his hand—a hand that could just as easily have ended my life,
a hand that has ended many others.
He moves his hand to the back of my head and puts his mouth over mine, kissing me as deeply and
passionately as his cock is fucking me.
I want this to last forever. I want this to be all that there is. The two of us, and nothing else in the
world.
Except maybe if we were to bring another into this world.
Is it crazy to want that when everything else around us is crumbling apart? I know what kind of man
he is, but does he know what kind of father he could be?
 He thrusts himself more deeply into me, and his breath quickens. His mouth moves down to my
neck where he kisses me. I know it’s coming, and I can’t help myself.
He thrusts one last time, grunting and moaning into my neck, and as his cum fills me. I’m launched
into another wave of ecstasy.
He lowers me down to the ground and pulls me more tightly against him. I know he has nothing left
in him. He’s filled me up until our cum is mingled and running down my thighs. We stay there, cradled in
each other’s arms, forgetting every care in the world, even if only for a second.
This is our time right now. And he’s earned his rest.
I don’t wake up from my sated post-orgasmic haze until I hear the urgency in his voice.
“We have to keep moving.”
This is his training kicking in again. He was always on guard, always on mission, moving endlessly
toward his objective and letting nothing stand in his way. Nothing about that has changed.
“I trust you, Jason. I’ll do whatever you say.”
“Do you have a place?”
I was worried he would ask me this. Since the second he came back into my life, there was only
one other person that I could think of. She won’t be happy to see us.
“Yes, it’s not far from here.”
He can sense my hesitation.
“What is it?”
“After you were gone, I came here once, years later,” I admit. “You weren’t here. I had no idea how
to find you. But I did find someone. Someone who helped me forget.”
He waits for me to continue. He’s not the jealous type. “You two have a lot in common.” This gives
him pause. “Just please try to remember that she’s a friend, my friend, and she’s someone who can help
us.”
He silently nods his assent.
We carefully emerge from the shelter of the building. I try to watch every direction at once, eyes
darting around, looking at everything but seeing nothing.
Jason walks on as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, but I’m sure he sees more than I could
possibly be aware of.
It’s a short walk to Kristen’s, but it feels like it takes forever, exposed as we were out in the open. I
can’t believe I’m taking Jason there.
After we enter her building, I knock on the door and reflexively turn toward the hidden camera
mounted next to the door. Jason doesn’t move his head, but I know he sees it as well.
The door buzzes, and I push my way through. The room is dim with very little furniture in it,
leaving wide-open spaces between.
Kristen walks up to me, all smiles, kissing both cheeks. Her eyes take a careful appraisal of me
while her face is blocked from Jason’s view.
“Who’s your toy?” She turns to Jason. “What are you, Rangers? Seals? Black ops? I can tell by the
way you move that you’re something.”
Jason remains silent.
“Kristen, this is Jason.”
Her face changes as she regards the six-foot, two-inch man in front of her, and she almost seems to
back away from him.
She knows exactly who he is now.
Without saying another word, she launches herself at him, a knife coming out of nowhere. I stand
out of the way. I know that Jason can handle himself, and I think they need to do this to measure each other
before either of them will feel safe.
The fight doesn’t take long. Neither suffer any significant injuries, just a few bruises and scrapes.
To me, it appears that they just stop, but I know that to both of them, there’s a clear victor.
Kristen, still breathing heavily, looks back at me.
“We need your help, Kristen. They’re after us again. I don’t know if they will stop this time.”
“You can stay here, of course. I’ll let you get cleaned up and get some rest. And I’ll get you some
food. Then we’ll figure something out. I have clothes for you, Kat.” She looks at Jason. “You may be a
little harder. How do you feel about sequins, or pants with an embroidered ‘Juicy’ on the back?”
He ignores her and we head to the bathroom.
Taking our clothes off, Jason gets in the shower. I follow and start to clean his back. The simple
act, so familiar from days gone by, calms me.
He keeps his back to me, pretending not to notice the door opening again as Kristen gets in to join
us.
Kristen starts to kiss my neck and shoulders. I wait, wondering what he’ll say when it clicks just
what kind of friendship Kristen and I had.
Jason turns around and looks at us, and I start to kiss Kristen, my eyes on his the whole time as I
pull her between us.
 Jason


I smile as I watch Kristen embrace Kat from behind. It’s not often a guy gets a view like this,
especially in a world like this. Kat is already melting and moaning between the heat of the water
cascading over us in the shower and the familiar touch of Kristen.
I don’t mind, though. Adaptation is ingrained within me by trade, and this is just another situation to
appreciate. I’m just going with the flow, and enjoying what I’m given is my M.O.
As I wash myself slowly and methodically, I look at Kristen’s body, up and down. She’s incredibly
well toned. Her muscular frame dwarfs Kat’s, but she still has a feminine air about her that makes me
want to bend her right over.
That might come later, but for now I have a show to enjoy.
This is a fantasy—this, here, with Kat—I never expected would come to life.
Kat runs her nails up and down Kristen’s back, leaving light-red lines across her that blend in with
her heat-marked skin. Kristen grabs Kat’s hair and yanks her head back, drawing a sharp, pleasure-filled
moan from Kat’s throat.
That’s her favorite.
She exposes Kat’s neck and begins to suck, letting her hair go slightly now that she’s found her
point. Kat’s eyes are trained on mine, and I see the familiar look completely filled with lust.
Her eyes roll back, and I look down. Kristen’s fingers have found her clit and she teases her, easily
drawing moans of ecstasy from her in moments. Kat’s whole body jolts upward as Kristen slips two
fingers deep within her.
Her body quivers and shakes as she moans, dropping her head and letting the water run right over
her. Kristen’s arm thrusts furiously as she fingers Kat with abandon.
Kat begins to cry out as she reaches her climax. I can’t help but stroke myself, my fingers gliding
over my slick cock as I watch her face twist and contort in pleasure. Kristen stares right at her, just as I
am, as she brings her to a familiar, body-rocking orgasm.
Kat’s arms embrace Kristen as she quivers under her touch. Kat makes a futile effort to stifle her
own screams by biting into Kristen’s shoulder, but this only serves to renew Kristen’s vigor, and her
fingers don’t relent in the slightest.
Finally, after what was, by my count, at least three orgasms from Kat, Kristen removes her fingers
and immediately sucks them clean. Kat grabs her head and kisses her with passion again, panting for
breath as her knees shake.
“Fucking hell, babe…” Kat says breathily. “And here I thought there would be issues coming
here…”
Kristen simply smirks and exits the shower, leaving Kat and I to clean ourselves quickly under the
rapidly cooling water. Hot water is a fine commodity in these times, and it’s a big gesture that she even
offered it in the first place.
We hurry ourselves along, though I’m mostly clean myself at this point. I use my time wisely as I
watch. I scrub the dirt of life from Kat quickly and help her out of the shower.
We dry ourselves off and head to the bedroom to find our new clothing.
As we walk into the bedroom, I see Kat get pulled to the bed before either of us are even able to
react. Kristen shoves her down roughly but knowingly, and Kat falls with much practiced movements.
She looks up expectantly from the bed as Kristen swings her leg over her head and places her cunt
right over Kat’s face. The last thing I see of Kat’s mouth is her tongue extending from her open and
waiting mouth, a huge smile on her waiting face.
As Kristen grinds down on Kat’s mouth, I take the time to study her body further. Her arms are
incredibly muscled but toned, to the point of not being cumbersome. Her shoulders are soft but marked
with common signs of both a tough workout and battle.
I wonder what all has happened to her in the years since I’ve seen her.
Her chest is strong, and the muscles under her fantastic tits hold them tight to her fantastically.
Everything about this woman is ready for battle, and it’s incredibly sexy.
I knew Kat’s tongue was talented, but something about Kristen must have her extremely worked up
because I’m already seeing signs of a building orgasm as she rocks her hips on Kat’s head. Kat is running
her hands all over Kristen’s body, stroking her stomach, grabbing her hips, and gripping her tits tightly.
It’s all I can do to resist gripping my cock and spraying them both with my pent-up cum.
Kristen arches backward and moans out in orgasm. Kat reaches up to work her clit rapidly, and I
see streams of cum spray out from Kristen’s cunt, drenching Kat’s already-damp face and hair. Kristen
reaches down and grips Kat’s hair, shoving Kat’s face back into her cunt in the final throes of her orgasm.
Kristen dismounts Kat’s face and lies down, only slightly out of breath. Kat climbs toward me with
renewed vigor and grabs my hand, deftly pulling me around onto the bed myself.
Without a moment’s hesitation, my cock is in her mouth as both Kristen and I watch her slurp away
at my ten rock-hard inches. Her head bobs up and down as her slender frame wiggles irresistibly behind
it.
Almost as if our thoughts about Kat are in sync, Kristen pulls herself up and begins to stroke Kat’s
ass. She stares and studies it, then plants a sharp, echoing smack. I can see the redness almost
immediately, even from my vantage point.
Kat moans gently on my cock, then louder as Kristen moves behind her to slide her tongue directly
into Kat’s ass.
Kat moans even louder and begins to suck me with even more enthusiasm. Her ass sways back and
forth against Kristen’s face in rhythm to her sucks and strokes up and down the full length of my cock.
Suddenly, she presses down, taking my entire length into her throat, and a grunting moan escapes me
to my surprise. I entangle my fingers in her hair and press her up and down, adding light force to her
already-enthusiastic rhythm.
I begin to thrust my hips along with her, pressing my cock to the back of her throat, and each time
she lets it pop in and out. This girl really knows how to work.
I see Kristen get even more enthusiastic with Kat’s ass, and she lifts her mouth up off me, still
gripping my spit-slick cock tightly, and moans loud. She stares at my face with a devilish grin before
spinning around, her ass now in my face.
She kisses Kristen deeply, mixing the taste of my cock with her ass between their mouths, and she
slowly lowers her ass down to rub on my cock.
Kat and Kristen’s spit mixes between her cheeks, my cock sliding easily with the lubrication. Kat
reaches back without breaking their kiss and grips my cock tightly, angling it to her satisfaction before
sliding her ass down the entire length of my cock.
The sheer tightness of her perfect ass makes my mind go completely blank as she works up and
down my thick shaft.
She breaks her kiss with Kristen and leans back against me, propping up on her heels to ride my
cock faster. She spreads her legs and pulls Kristen’s face down to her cunt, so close that I can feel her
breath on my balls, and she begins to eat Kat’s pussy with incredible excitement.
I can feel her slip one, then two fingers inside Kat’s cunt with ease, making her ass even tighter as
she slides my cock in and out of her. I feel Kristen’s fingers massage her G-spot then alternate to rub my
cock from inside her.
The feeling is maddening, and the all-familiar feeling of my balls swelling up begins to dawn on
me.
She rocks her hips up and down against both my cock and Kristen’s face, grabbing her hair and
emitting screaming moans from her throat. I grip her hips tightly and begin to thrust upward myself,
working in and out of her ass with increasing pace. I feel Kristen’s fingers match me, so I begin to speed
up my thrusts until I’m fucking Kat’s fantastic ass with every inch of force my well-trained body can
provide.
My cock begins to swell as Kristen shoves her fingers as deep as she can reach, and Kat and I both
begin to orgasm. My cum sprays from my cock into her ass, flooding her immediately.
Cum gushes out around my cock. Even my girth isn’t enough to contain the incredible flow my balls
are pumping into her.
With a few more thrusts, I’ve emptied my balls into Kat’s ass and fall backward onto the bed, and
she falls right on top of me. We’re both smiling and panting for breath as she slowly works me out of her,
the cum spilling out onto the mattress. Kristen watches and giggles slightly.
“Pay that no mind. This place is temporary as of now, anyways,” she says, slightly breathless
herself. “You two rest up. I’ll set you up with supplies to continue on your way. I’m certain the ones
following you will be catching your scent again soon.”
Kristen lets us nap. Kat doesn’t realize just what’s on the line—not yet—but Kristen’s right. Before
long, we need to be on our way.
 Kat


Being this clean feels so wrong, it’s almost dirty.
I’m not used to waking up so well rested, or in such a comfortable bed. I yawn, stretching like a
kitten in the sunshine, and find Jason’s chiseled body beneath the sheets next to mine.
Embracing my newfound lazy feline status, I practically purr. Awake, Jason is tall enough and looks
“don’t-fuck-with-me” enough that he can be a little intimidating. Asleep, he’s practically a teddy bear.
It’s not often that you get the chance to catch a guy like him with his guard down. It’s a dangerous
world we live in, after all. But a hot shower, a good night’s sleep, and a hard, passionate fuck with my
safe house’s host seem to be all that it requires to get Jason’s guard down.
Speaking of our host, Kristen is nowhere to be seen. But she’s left us with a black duffle bag with
supplies in the corner and more orgasms than we can count. That’s pretty good hospitality even by old-
world standards.
In a world where most people are just as happy to murder us where we stand and loot our corpses
for everything we’ve got as they are to wave good morning, this is the goddamn VIP treatment.
For once, it feels like things are finally looking up.
As my eyes trail down Jason’s body, it looks like something else is looking up too. Big Jason might
still be fast asleep, but little Jason? Little Jason is standing hard, thick, and ready, pitching such a sizable
tent beneath the sheet that continuing to call it Little Jason feels deceitful and wrong.
Jason’s dick is a fucking weapon—locked, loaded, and ready to be fired at will.
I can’t even help myself. I reach for it as if on instinct, my greedy fingers ready to pump that
gorgeous piece of man meat until I make him fire his cum cannon all over these nice, clean bed sheets.
But just as my hand wraps around the rock-hard thickness of Jason’s dick, I hear Jason growl like a
wild fucking animal. His eyes open fiercely, and he grabs my wrist so hard I’m momentarily afraid he’s
going to snap it then and there beneath his big, strong hands.
We stay like that for a second, both of us frozen, hearts pounding, holding our breath.
Jason breathes out first. Gratefully, I follow suit.
“You shouldn’t startle a man awake like that,” Jason says, forcing a laugh. He yanks my wrist and
pulls me on top of him, claiming my mouth in a kiss.
He’s minty. Fresh. You don’t realize what a luxury toothpaste is after wondering if you’re going to
go without it for a while.
It makes my tongue feel pleasantly tingly when Jason slips his between my lips.
“You taste like cunt,” he says, grinding his cock against my pussy with only the sheet between us.
“I wouldn’t mind if you tasted like cunt, too, you know,” I tease, grinding right back.
It feels so fucking good to just feel safe for a while, like nothing’s about to get you and nothing’s
about to go wrong.
Of fucking course, it can’t last.
There are keys on top of the bag of supplies Kristen has left us. Inside it is enough water to last us
several days. Food for a week, if we ration it. To my surprise, there’s also a bottle of moonshine.
“Wow,” I say, holding it up for Jason to admire. “We must have fucked her pretty good last night.”
“I recall you doing most of the fucking,” Jason says, taking the keys in his thick fingers. “Have a
swig, Kat, baby. You’ve earned it. Besides, looks like I’m driving.”
The moonshine is dark and tastes like caramel gasoline. It burns all the way down. It’s been so long
since I’ve had hard liquor, I end up coughing like some kind of lightweight after just one swig.
It makes Jason laugh at me.
Normally, I’d mind. I’d get offended or some shit. But Jason has a nice laugh, and these days, you
take your amusement where you can get it.
Enjoy it while you still can.
The keys go with some kind of modded-out Trans Am. It has a hazard-orange body, although
between the doors, the hood, and the trunk, it’s a total ROY G. BIV situation. Every color of the rainbow.
It might have been a firebird once, in another lifetime. Now, when Jason turns the key in the
ignition, it runs, and that’s all anyone can ask of it.
As I slide into the passenger side next to him, I tuck my slender legs up beneath me on the worn
leather of the seat. The road before us is long and full of potholes. Barely a road at all, really.
But the sunrise is still staining the horizon Bloody Mary red. The day is still cool, with plenty of
day ahead of us. And the moonshine has settled in my stomach nicely.
I’m curled up there like a sleeping kitten. It’s a reminder that people can still be good, and the
world can still be okay—that we’re only a hot shower and a good night’s sleep away from feeling human
again.
“Let me blow you,” I say, turning to Jason after a while.
Jason yawns, then looks over at me and smiles. “You’ve got a one-track mind, Kat, babe,” he says.
But that doesn’t stop him from leaning the seat back a little and reaching down beneath the steering
wheel to get his cock out of his jeans.
I’ll never get tired of seeing this man hard. Like, holy shit. It makes me wet just looking at him.
I pounce on that big, ten-inch cock like a woman starved, and there’s only one thing that can satisfy
me. My lips stretch around it, wet and happy to accommodate his iron-hot thickness as it slides against my
tongue.
“Goddamn,” Jason breathes shakily. “You suck cock like a dream.”
“Don’t fall asleep, honey,” I tease him as I pop his cock out of my mouth. A long strand of saliva
connects my lips and his big, fat cockhead.
I’m ready to slurp it back up and go back down on him ASAP. “We’ve got a looooong road ahead.”
 But just as I’m about to swallow that bad boy up and force the entire length of him down my throat
again, I see something black out of the corner of my eye.
Dark.
Sinister.
It’s moving so fast that by the time Jason sees it, there’s not even a chance to wrench the steering
wheel and turn the car away.
The van T-bones us so hard my window shatters, showering me with the sharp little snowfall of
broken glass.
We’ve been caught.
 Jason


“Fuck! Buckle the fuck up, Kitten. These motherfuckers aren’t playing!”
The car that slammed into us, almost tossing us into a spin, recovered just as fast from the impact as
I did. Whoever made us is hot on our tail, and the speeds are hitting close to 100 mph.
“I hope this fucking piece of shit holds onto the tires. Look behind us and see if you can tell how
many are in the car,” I growl out. My voice is demanding, but I’ve never failed, and I won’t now.
My eyes are on the road ahead as Kat unclicks her seatbelt for a minute, checking the back window.
“I think two, but the window isn’t clean. Hard to tell with all that dust.” Kat’s voice is shaking
when she speaks.
“Belt back on. Now. Hold on. I’m taking that turn off up there.” I point out toward the small dirt
road that’s about a hundred feet ahead of us. They won’t expect that. How fucking stupid could someone
be to go off-road in a Trans Am?
“What the hell was his name?” My voice is that of an insane man. She wouldn’t even know what I
was talking about.
“Huh? Whose name?” Kat looks over with a blank stare.
“Smokey and the Bandit. What the hell was Burt’s name in that movie?”
Of course, she still doesn’t know who I’m talking about, but that movie made cars like this famous.
“Bo. The name was Bo.” With that, I make the sharp turn down the dirt road, the tail end of the car
swerving back and forth.
“Shit, they followed us,” I say, my voice even. I won’t let her know that we’re this close to fucked.
Not yet, at least. Not ‘til I’m sure of it.
“You know how to shoot?” I ask her. I’m sure she does. Girls like Kat are eye candy, not badasses.
Except Kat.
“Yeah, I do.” She laughs, and I smile. That’s my girl.
“Grab the gun out of my boot. I want you to try to shoot out the tires. Not ours!”
Sticking her tongue out, Kat reaches down, grabbing the small handgun in my boot. Her hand is
shaking.
“Roll the window down. I’m going to slow a little. When the car gets close, shoot the fucking
tires.”
“Got it. Hey, can I call you Tex? You know, like this is some gunfight at the OK Corral?” Her voice
is filled with nervous laughter.
“Sure, call me whatever the fuck you want. Just don’t miss, okay?”
Rolling the window down, Kat leans out as I slow the car to 50 mph. It’s a chance we have to take.
“Can you get a clean shot?” I ask. I’m just hoping she doesn’t drop the fucking gun.
 “Yeah, I think... I can,” she says, the gun resting in her hand as she aims it at the car behind us.
POP!
“I HIT IT. I HIT IT!” Kat screams out. She fumbles with the gun, almost dropping it.
I yank her back in the car by the back of her shirt. She’s laughing out of some manic combination of
euphoria and fear when I do.
She settles herself back in the seat in a state of shock.
“You got the sum, bitches. Knocked that car clean off the fucking road. I think I’ll call you Candy
Apples.” I cackle with laughter. I slow down and watch the two guys in the other car rant and scream.
“Did you get cut when the window blew?” I ask her. I was concerned before, but there was no time
to say anything. Fight-or-flight took over.
Grabbing my smokes from the dash, I tap out a Marlboro red, perching it between my lips. Pushing
in the car lighter, I hope it works. This car is, like, ancient, and I forgot my lighter back at the place we
stayed at.
Pop. The lighter signals it’s hot. I light up my cigarette; the cancer stick is needed in times like this.
“Bad habit, but fuck, so is dying,” I say as I inhale, the smoke filling my lungs with toxic fumes.
“That stinks,” Kat spits out, reaching to yank the cigarette from my lips. Placing it between her own
lips, she inhales, leaning back when the smoke consumes her.
“Fucking hell, Kat!” Growling, I have the cigarette back before she can complain.
We drive for hours, until the sun is making its way slowly toward the horizon.
“Where are we going?” she finally asks. Her feet are now hanging out the window of the car, the
road finally back to paved.
“I know a place where we can stay tonight. If anyone finds us, well, let’s just say this—they won’t
find us.”
A hundred more miles pass before we reach the destination. We reach a biker bar called Whiskey
Pete’s.
No one would venture into this place without a death wish. You have to know someone to even
make it through the parking lot.
We’re stopped by two armed men. I look over at Kat for a minute. “Stay put, okay?”
She nods, but I don’t trust her. Not for a minute.
Turning the ball cap on my head backward, I get out, and I’m met with two old friends.
“Jason, that you?” the bigger one of the two asks. He’s about forty, with a pot belly, and balding.
The gun on his side makes up for his appearance.
“Yeah, me and the old lady.” I stop for a minute. I hate to lie to them, but they don’t need to know
everything. “We need to lay low. She blew the wrong guy back in Texas, and, well, we need a place for
the night.”
“You fucking liar!”
 There she is, not following the fucking rules again. Standing at my side, this crazy woman is going
to blow it all. Why the hell doesn’t she listen? Why?
But I still fucking love the fuck out of her, even if she can’t keep her mouth shut.
“Yeah, we can put you up for a day or two, but put that bitch in her place. You know the boss
doesn’t like mouthy women.”
With that, we’re waved through.
“I told you to stay in the car. I asked you nicely. Why can’t you just, for once, listen to me? These
guys are not a cake walk.”
Driving to the front of the neon-lit bar, I ask again, “Please, let me handle this. I’ll get us a room,
and you can finish that blowjob you started in the car.”
 Kat


These fucking bitch men sure do like to say “bitch” a lot. They like reminding themselves of what
they think they are or some shit. Wonder why they need so much reminding?
Not that Jason’s much of a slouch in the manhood department, at least the physical manhood
department.
Tonight, he’s doing an okay job in the practical manhood department as well. That stunt-style
drivin’ wasn’t too bad, even if he likes to ham it up like he’s on the set of some fucking third-rate car
chase movie.
On the other hand, treating real-life peril like a movie isn’t a bad way to make my juices flow, but I
think Jason’s gonna have to wait a bit before I wrap my lips around his ample cock again, despite what
he’s thinking.
Okay, so my mouth is a bit dry after that nice little chase punctuated by some of that loud-ass
gunfire that I’m getting all too used to these days.
I can tell Jason wants to put his hand on my back, or maybe hold my hand like some love-struck
little kid as he walks quickly across the parking lot.
He wants me to go faster, upset that I cramped his style in front of his old bald lil’ buddy. I’m
showing him by keeping up with what he thinks is a fast stride.
“Come on, let’s go!”
That’s what he has to settle for, more hollering at my ass.
“The quicker we get into the room, the quicker we get laying low, the better,” he proceeds to seethe
out in a gravelly whisper.
I’ll reiterate: what a fuckin’ ham. All these new sides of Jason coming out tonight are kinda growin’
on me, though, and I know there’s one part of him that’s probably growing as we walk, just thinking about
what’s gonna happen when we get into whatever shit-ass back roads motel room is waiting for us.
I watch for signs of walking funny.
“What you fucking looking at? You’ll get plenty of opportunity to take it all in soon enough.”
Jason’s giving me a crooked smirk.
“Doesn’t this place specialize in whiskey or something? They’re advertising their whiskey-ness in
neon.”
Jason’s smirk drops into his own resting bitch face. Fuck it, he’s so fond of that word, I’m gonna
use it, thinking and speaking about his as I please.
“I told you to let me handle this, and you ignore that and get out of the car with me again. And I
don’t say shit! The least you could do is let that pretty mouth rest for like five goddamn minutes so it’ll be
in good condition for my throbbing cock.”
 I do my best to make my own face into something resembling a crooked Jason-like smirk.
“My crooked mouth is feelin’ awful dry. I think some of that roadhouse whiskey is in order to
prepare me properly for our room fun.”
“Room fun? It’s this weird bullshit I’m talking about! You’re gonna get us killed, or worse, with
your nonsense. You better wait in the fucking car for both our good.” He shakes his head. “You of all
people should know better than this.”
I look back at the parked vehicle, like I’m even considering getting the fuck back inside. Very little
good can happen inside that thing, as I’ve been learning slowly.
Maybe a little good happens there, but that doesn’t involve me sitting in there like a quiet little lady
by my fucking self as fucking Jason goes and plays cowboy biker or whatever the fuck he’s planning to do
in that Whiskey Place nightmare.
I look back at Jason’s face. He looks serious. Fuck, he looks shit-scared.
Maybe he has a point.
“Just what kinda barroom dealings are you planning on up in there that are manly and important that
I need to hide out in that death-mobile?”
I watch for Jason to start getting angry, because that could be kinda fucking hot. Fuck, it would
definitely be hot.
If he wants for me to start up that blowjob again at some point soon, he has to give me a little bit of
fire.
I mean, gunplay is one thing, but I don’t like that dumbly violent crap. I like to watch a man’s face
turn into passionate anger in the intimacy of a sketchy biker bar parking lot.
But no, still just fear. The motherfucker’s still just shit-scared. Maybe of the situation, maybe for
me and my safety, or maybe of just how I can mess it up somehow.
I don’t mess shit up as a rule. But nobody’s perfect, and rules have exceptions.
“Fear can be good,” I purr, tryin’ to throw in a bit of menace to maybe inspire the blood to start
flowing to Jason’s nether regions.
“More weird shit. What the fuck are you talking about?”
I nod back toward the car.
“I see you’re scared. And fuck, that makes me a little scared. And, I’ll say it, a lot turned on. Two
things you want: the rest of that blowjob, and for me to wait in hiding in the car. The least you could do is
step with me back there for a few.”
I can see Jason seriously considering the possibilities. I’d like to think I can see his cock expanding
through his jeans as well.
Jason nods a bit too slowly, if I do fucking say so myself. And I realize that in spite of how we fell
so easily back into each other’s arms, I don’t know for sure who he really is anymore.
But if I know him at all, he’ll never pass up a chance for a blowjob.
“So,” I ask him, “is that a yes?”
 Kat


The walk back to that motherfucking car is only a few feet, but it feels like it takes a goddamn
eternity to get there. The pavement is rough, like this shitty little place needs some serious fuckin’ care.
I get to the car and pull up at the handle. I scoff. “It’s locked still, asshole.”
“Hang on. Jesus Christ, you have no patience, Kat,” Jason remarks.
“Well, excuse me, fucker. What the hell was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back with me
then?” I love testing this guy. Fuck, I just love this guy.
I like watching that little vein on the top of his head start pulsing. That’s how I know I’m really
pissing him off. And when he’s hot, the sex is phenomenal. Nothing’s changed.
“You’re pushin’ it, Kat.”
I giggle. After fuckin’ around and getting the keys in the door, Jason gets into the driver’s seat. He
reaches his arm over and lifts the lock on the passenger side, and I crawl into the car.
I see Jason all panicked again when I look over at his face. “What the fuck are you so hung up
about?” I demand.
“Nothin’, alright? Stop worryin’ about me. Get the fuck to work, baby,” Jason commands.
I sit up on my knees in the seat, facing Jason. My butt cheeks peek out from underneath my tight
leather skirt, and the heels of my boots are hard-pressed against the passenger side door.
I reach my hand over and grab at his pants, feeling his hard cock in my grasp. A man so well-
endowed just drives me insane. I smile, bite my lip, and shake my hips in excitement.
I move my hand up and unbuckle his belt and unfasten the button to his light-blue jeans. I unzip his
pants slowly and carefully.
“Hurry up, Kat. You’re gonna give a guy some blue balls!”
This man knows just how to get me going. I stick my hand into his boxer briefs, grab his cock, and
pull it out of his pants.
I stare at it, marveling at its massive girth and length. Fuck. Let me have some of that.
I open my mouth wide, take the whole fuckin’ thing into my mouth, and let it slide down my throat.
Jason grips my hair tight and gasps. “Holy fuck, Kat,” he exclaims.
I giggle with him in my throat, sending vibrations against his cock, and I feel him twinge in my
throat.
I start bobbing my head up and down on him. As I suck his huge cock, I take my hand and cup his
balls and start massaging them some.
I love handling his cock. It’s just what I need after the fuckin’ day we had.
Jason takes a deep breath in. As he inhales, his hips flex up and his cock pushes farther into my
mouth than I’m ready for, and I choke on it. I gag a couple of times and feel his cock pulsing as it rests
against my tongue.
I take my hand that’s been on his balls and wrap my fingers around the base of his cock and start
stroking him, the edge of my lips meeting where my hand ends. I twist my fist up and down his cock and
rotate my head in the same direction.
That shit makes me feel like a porn star.
As I’m bobbing and stroking on Jason, his precum hits my tongue. It’s really ShowTime now. I take
my tits out of my low hanging blouse and pull my mouth off his cock.
I push my boobs together and lower them against Jason’s cock.
“Oh fuck,” he shouts. He’s always loved tit fucking, and today is going to be no exception. I thrust
my chest up and down against his cock, and I put my face into position so I can keep sucking at the head of
his cock.
As I force my tits up and down his cock, I swirl my tongue all around the head of it and play with
his frenulum. He shudders underneath me. His hand is gripping my hair tight, and he’s guiding my head
and my body.
I love when he’s forceful with me. My cunt is dripping, just dying to have that cock inside me.
I moan with his cock in my mouth, and he simultaneously starts moaning out loud. He pushes my
head down on him hard, and his hips flex up and hold position while he shoots a massive load of cum
toward the back of my throat.
I take some of it onto my tongue and lift my mouth off him, letting my tits get sprayed with the rest.
His cum covering me is so hot. When the last of it lands on my nipples and starts dripping down, I take my
hands and start rubbing his load onto my skin.
I even spit the cum out of my mouth and onto my chest, letting him get a sexy view of cum-laced
drool fall down my chin and onto my big tits.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Kat. How the hell did I end up here with you?”
There this fuckin’ guy goes again, being all sweet. Well, I guess it’s not bad all the time. As I roll
my eyes at him, there’s a knock at Jason’s window.
A large man in a leather jacket is peering into the car, staring at me while I’m dripping with cum.
I do my best to cover my tits with my hands, but no one can mistake sex hair. Worried, I press my
back against my window and fix my clothes. Jason reaches to his side and grabs his handgun.
He rolls down his window, just slightly enough to get sound out so he can talk to this fucker.
“What the fuck do you want?” he demands.
The man, with his own gun pulled up in our view, smiles and looks over at me and smiles. “Her.”
 Bruce


I lick my lips. I can’t believe my fucking luck.
When I first see the car, a beat-up old thing, I’m tempted to call for backup. No lonely cop wants to
come face-to-face with a bunch of scumbags doing a drug deal or some other dirty shit.
Something stops me, though.
I inch a little closer. In the dark shadows of the wall, even my extra-large frame stays hidden, and
that’s saying something. Some of the guys who work with me can’t believe I made the cut.
Fuck the fitness, I tell them, it’s brains you need.
It’s dark, fucking dark, but with a half moon, I catch a glimpse of what looks like two people in the
car.
My hand finds my gun.
How dangerous can two people be? What’s more, two people are hardly here to plan a heist.
I inch forward, comforted in the knowledge of my own protection in the black of the night.
My black leather jacket was a stroke of genius. It gives me added camouflage. When you weigh in
at about two hundred and fifty pounds, you need all the help you can get. I stopped wearing the uniform
when I hit the two-hundred-pound mark and someone said they no longer catered for my size.
Back then, I received a letter. I still recall it word for word. Lose weight or lose out.
But I have my own connections and ways. Whoever thought they could get rid of Bruce played with
the wrong man.
Fucking dickheads, some of the boys.
It doesn’t take me long to work out what’s going on in the car.
This might become my lucky night.
God knows I deserve to be lucky. Women barely look at me, and when they do, it’s with that sort of
sour lemon face. Think they’re so fucking superior. Fucking joke.
To make sure I get the best vantage point, I creep forward slowly, snail like. A loud crunch makes
me flinch.
I stop dead in my tracks. My eyes are fixed at the car the whole time.
Shit.
Nothing happens.
My dick is getting agitated. It hasn’t seen action since the last time I paid a visit to Contessa
Amore’s place. I pretended to be there on official business, nothing like throwing my weight around a
little.
The girls there are mostly young and of some ethnic background. But I don’t give a fuck. A man has
his needs, even a man of my size.
 But from what I can see, this fucker in the car has caught himself a goddess.
I can see the back of her ass, and all I want to do is spank it with my large hand. My fat fingers
want to find that pussy of hers.
If I want to make the most out of this gift sent from the universe, I need to make sure I plan this
absolutely to perfection.
No need to strike too early.
I can already see the smirks from the other guys when I return to the station at the end of the
graveyard shift. And I might share my story with them. Then again, I might not.
I’m so close now I can hear the dude moaning. And I can see the chick’s tits.
My dick is threatening to explode. I resist the temptation to use my fingers to help myself along.
No. Don’t spoil it, big guy.
This one is for you. In a little while, she’ll be all yours. And you can do with her what you want.
In my mind, I’m already playing the scene out of how I’m going to fuck this chick. She can pay for
all the insults I’ve suffered at the hands of women like her. And the best part will be there ain’t anything
she’ll be able to do.
As the guy looks like he’s about to cum, I’m finding it more and more difficult to concentrate on the
plan. I have my hand on the gun already.
There’s no doubt I’ll need plenty of persuasion for this dickhead to give up his chick. And no doubt
the chick will need some…persuasion to participate in what I’ve got planned for the two of us.
I play with the idea of simply kicking the guy out and driving off with her. We could go somewhere,
somewhere more comfortable, somewhere with plenty of mirrors.
The idea of seeing myself with this fucking hot babe has a certain appeal to it. Wouldn’t it be
awesome to see my flesh drown the delicate skin of this floozy?
All women who hook up with assholes like this one in the car are floozies as far as I’m concerned.
Decent women wouldn’t hang around dark deserted parking lots in the dead of night fucking a guy.
Briefly, I think of my mother. My dick loses some of its hardness. What would my mother think of
me now?
Who gives a fuck? An inner voice pipes up. She left you when you were six years old.
I turn my attention back to the car. Now is not the time to dwell on my mother, who ditched my
father for some fucking asshole who took her away.
Maybe this chick in the car has a husband and kid somewhere at home. She probably told them
some lies about a girls’ night out, when really she was here fucking herself stupid with another man.
Fucking bitch.
My cock is back to full attention and ready for action.
I watch with a little drool coming from my mouth as the chick grabs her tits. Any second now, I’ll
make my move.
 The timing is going to be everything. I don’t want them to drive off, and I don’t want to do it too
soon. Although my dick is getting impatient, it wants some of the action.
“Easy, boy,” I purr, and I pull myself up to my full height.
And then I make my move.
It’s Bruce time.
 Will


The term five-o, yeah, I fucking know it well. A lot of my, uh, colleagues...no, that term sounds
wrong for who they are—who we are, who I am...no, associates—fuck, that’s fucking better. Associates.
Those motherfuckers think it’s from hip-hop that it originated there along with po-po and
such...wait, where did po-po start?
I’m getting off track, and there’s a fucking five-o approaching the vehicle—a term those 5-0
motherfuckers use—and it’s not a vehicle that I fuckin’ know. But I digress, so I’m driving the speed limit
like a decent fucking citizen down a road that I know is always quiet cause that’s the way I like it these
days, and there’s one of those big five-o motherfuckers.
Damn, either I’m getting old—hell, I know I’m getting old—but either my age is showing its ugly
fucking head or my past decisions are catching up with me. Either way, to finish what I was saying about
that five-o term, I remember Hawaii 5-0, at least the reruns; I know where that shit comes from.
Anyway, I’m driving the old Continental, ‘cause what else would a motherfucker like me drive?
I’m going as slow as I goddamn want to when I see one of those new-ass squad cars—the kind us honest
fucking citizens have to foot the bill for, and with my past, I cannot not take notice of those fucking things
wherever I see them.
And it’s fucking parked. Great.
But now, I see your stereotypical officer of the law just waddling away from his taxpayer-funded
vehicle. Now, allow me to expand on what I mean by stereotypical in this particular fucking instance: this
stereotype is the kind born in the heads of hacky-sacking college smoke hounds who think that cops do
nothing but sit in donut shops all day.
This officer of the law likely visits his share of donut shops. But to be fair, in my world of endless
white flour-based delicacies with the requisite cannoli—that’s plural, the singular is cannolo—and Italian
cookies for dessert, a lot of my associates make this blue uniform-wearing dude look like Christian Bale
in the fucking Machinist.
This poor guy is still bursting out of his blues, which, to be fair, were probably fitted a few dozen
Boston creams ago. I slow down even more to watch him wobble to a car that looks too old and rundown
for anyone to fucking care about.
At first, those 5-0 po-po mobiles gave me an instinctual pause. In my line of work, a job of any size
can be grounded to a halt, along with your whole motherfucking life, by some nosy beat cop just looking
to fill his fucking parking ticket quota.
The bit of pause, even in this law-abiding section of my life story, is now giving way to amusement
with a bit of pity for the poor po-po...fuck, when would I ever feel that for a dude like this?
Anyway, I’m thinking that this lumbering officer of the law better hope that it’s some scared shitless
high schooler with a learner’s permit or a sweet old Sunday-driver grandma who just happens to be out in
the middle of the week getting fucking oranges or rolls or whatever.
Because if there’s any shit of any kind that’s about to go down, there can be no doubt that it’s gonna
go down hard on the Stay Puft fucking Marshmallow officer. And when it goes down hard, it might not be
too bad to have a front-row seat, maybe while enjoying one or two of those fresh zeppolas riding in the
shotgun seat next to me.
Now, a motherfucker such as myself would generally be wise to avoid such situations, but as a
current model citizen, one who enjoys a good fucking show, I don’t see the harm in maybe pulling over
and putting the Continental in park.
As I do just that, I keep a close eye on Mr. 5-0. Some fucking cop. The dude doesn’t even notice me
pulling over, or at least he’s pretending not to.
I’m on the other side of the road, and I can get a good look at his face.
Damn, that motherfucker looks excited. I could swear that he’s drooling, approaching the vehicle
like some sort of determined law-enforcement zombie...or like there are a few boxes of chocolate-glazed
donuts waiting for him in the backseat.
No, fuck it, I can’t judge the 5-0 man for that. He’s drooling, maybe literally, over whatever shit’s
about to happen. I may be getting a little drooly myself now.
I’m glad I stopped and just happened to be making my way this way, because this has got to be
good.
I turn off the loud-as-fuck ignition of the Continental—does that motherfucker really not notice?—
and I lean over to roll down the window.
Sometimes these old-ass manual cars with no power fucking windows come in handy, but whatever
that po-po dude is headed toward has him distracted good and proper.
I may as well just fucking get out and watch.
I undo my seatbelt, pull up the driver’s side lock, and step out of my own fucking vehicle. I take a
quick glance at the glove box first.
You don’t think I go anywhere without my .38, do you? I know I’m crowing about being law-
abiding and all that, but a motherfucker like me, with the life built around me, can’t be that fucking stupid.
It ain’t registered, not that that matters. I’m leaving it there for now.
The 5-0 man doesn’t register the Continental door slamming. He doesn’t see me peering over the
top of the sedan like a prairie dog either.
Fuck, what’s that?
I hear the sound coming from the vehicle that the officer of the law is apprehending.
It sounds like...yeah, a chick laughing, and then moaning. Now there’s a guy moaning, too.
The cop doesn’t notice me, and the happy couple is yet to notice Mr. Officer staring at them.
The thing is, this particular officer of the law doesn’t look ready to cite these lovebirds for indecent
exposure or some shit. He looks ready to fucking join in.
I don’t think I’ve ever used this word in my fucking life, but gross.
This is some weird shit. What the hell do I do now?
 Kat


I want to get something out of the way, like, right off the bat. Before we get any further. Before you
make any fucking judgments about what comes next (and comes next, and comes next).
I am not a slut.
Or, okay, well, I am, but hold your fucking opinions for a hot sec. I’m a slut in the way that all
women deserve to be sluts—kinky, confident, in charge of my sexuality, and damn proud of it.
I know what I like. I know what I want. I know when I want it, and I know how to get it when I do.
So when the police officer taps his dirty little flashlight against the driver’s side window—just as
Jason is getting to the good part—I utilize the full extent of my arguably slutty powers, and I crank the
window down.
“Hunnf?” Jason says.
Generally, hunnf is not a word. At least, it’s not in the English language. You won’t find it in the
Oxford dictionary. Maybe not even on that Urban Dictionary site.
But when Jason’s mouth is currently busy and buried beneath my dripping wet pussy with the
driver’s seat leaned all the way back while I ride his face and my big, bare tits threaten to honk the horn
on the steering wheel…
A bitch can translate.
He’s not really sure where I’m going with this, and hell. Maybe I’m not either.
“What seems to be the—oh! Fuck, baby, yessss. Right there! Mmm.” I lick my lips and stare up at
my reflection in the officer’s shiny silver aviators. “Problem, Officer?”
He’s a big guy, the officer. His uniform, it doesn’t fit him right. But look—and remember, I’m
maybe, maybe not really a slut—I’m just so horny right now, all I can think is how much better he would
feel out of it.
I’d feel better too. That’s the thing about police officers, you know? When they’re out of uniform,
we all feel more comfortable.
He can keep the handcuffs and the badge around, though. Maybe even the gun.
“Ma’am,” the officer says. There was a smile on his face when he came up to the window, but now
his throat sounds dry. Totally parched, even.
“Thirsty, honey?” I ask. Not a slut. Just, y’know, improvising here. “Sounds like you need to…”
My eyes travel all the way down his uniform, over his dad-bod cop belly where it strains at the
buttons of his shirt to a big tent in his slacks where something else is straining.
Fuck. He’s probably as big as Jason. Bigger even, maybe.
“Wet your whistle?” I suggest. Admitted, kind of like a slut might.
“Mmph,” Jason says. Maybe in protest. Maybe he’s into it.
 His tongue is still flicking against my clit like it’s a pleasure button just begging to be pushed, so
I’m willing to assume the latter.
“You’re…you’re offering…” the officer stutters. Slowly, very slowly, he’s piecing it together.
“We don’t want any trouble,” I reassure him.
He pulls down his aviators. He’s got pretty eyes—cornflower blue. They’re sweet, if not a little
enraptured in disbelief.
They’re also making love to my tits right now, and who can even blame him?
“No trouble,” he says.
“Mmmmmph,” Jason moans.
I grind my cunt harder against Jason’s gorgeous mouth.
“Just a little fun,” I tell the officer.
He licks his lips.
He offers me a hand.
I take it and slide off Jason’s mouth. Just short of an orgasm, but I’m betting we can rectify that
situation shortly.
“Hey,” Jason complains, sitting the seat up. “I was using that.”
I make sure to grind the that in question against Jason’s own rock-hard erection as the cop presses
my hand against his own sizable piece of man meat.
“What’s the law in this state about concealed weapons?” I giggle, squeezing the cop’s hard-on.
The cop smiles. He’s got a good smile. No, he’s not a hot piece of ass like Jason is, but he’s tall,
broad shoulders, probably kind of a perv, but y’know. Sometimes, you take what you can get.
“We’re in favor of them,” says the cop.
I hop out of the car and bend over to show him exactly where I’d like him to conceal his weapon.
“Kat, you dirty fucking slut.” Jason laughs.
I have just enough time to open my mouth in protest before Jason sticks his cock in it.
You know what? Fucking redacted. Hello, my name is Kat, and I’m a slut.
Hello, Kat.
That’s right, baby.
I hear the cop relieve himself of his belt and lower his zipper. His cock presses against my soaking
wet slit, slick with my honey and Jason’s saliva, as I gag on Jason’s huge throbbing dick.
Honestly? Full slut admission here? Choking on cock just makes me wetter.
I take Jason down my throat all the way. My lips touch down on his big gorgeous balls just as the
cop hilts himself in my cunt. Generally, I’m kind of a sore loser. By the end of this, I’m going to be a sore
winner, too.
The cop’s rod is so long and thick, my pussy can barely accommodate him, but I believe in myself.
As he reaches around to stroke my clit, it does a greedy little victory dance.
 Of the three of us, I didn’t figure Jason would finish first. But when he does, oh my god, he comes
so beautifully. His cock throbs against my tongue once, twice, and then he’s pumping my mouth so full of
cum that I have to suck and slurp even harder to keep from wasting any of it.
I come next. The combined ministrations of the cop’s fingers at my clit, his cock balls-deep in my
pussy, and Jason’s cum in my mouth sends me over the edge. Full-body orgasm.
My knees knock together. I drool Jason’s cum back onto his cock and scramble to lick at all up.
“Aw, fuck,” the cop moans from behind me. “Oh, god—you’re so fucking hot, honey! You’re so
tight! I’m gonna…I’m gonna—”
Whatever he was gonna do, we can always assume, but we’ll never really know. Because just as
I’m pretty sure I’m about to be filled up with cum in both ends at once, I hear a hard THUNK! Sound off
from behind me.
Then I feel the cop’s body slump to the ground, leaving my pussy aching, gaping, and throbbing in
his absence.
Standing over the cop’s unconscious form is one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen, the grip
of a pistol still wielded in his hand from where he’s knocked the cop out of it.
“I’m Will,” the gorgeous man says, surveying the scene. “I, uh…thought you folks looked like you
needed help.” As his eyes widen, taking it all in, realization dawns on him. “I see now that, uh…might not
exactly be the case.”
“Huh,” Jason says, a little dumbfounded.
“Oh well.” I shrug. “It’s nice to meet you, Will. He’s got his handcuffs there on his belt—this might
be a good time to use them.”
Obligingly, Will stoops and cuffs the cop’s hands behind his back while I reach across the seat and
gather my clothes.
“You got someplace safe we can go?” I ask him, shimmying into my shorts.
“Ah, yeah,” Jason says, zipping up his jeans. “This, uh…well, you can see how this looks.”
Will nods. “I live just up the way. Let me hop in my car and you can, uh, follow me.”
“What about him?” Jason asks, nodding to the cop.
I bite my lip as my gaze lands on the cop’s still-hard man meat, hanging there out of his pants. He
wasn’t a bad fuck by any means, but who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t been so willing,
y’know?
“We’ll flip his hazards on and we can just…leave him here, I guess,” I say with a shrug. “When he
comes to, it will probably all just feel like a really crazy dream.”
 Will


Her tanned, toned legs get my attention first.
I imagine them around my waist as I fuck her against this car, but first thing’s first.
Then I run my eyes over her body, taking in every curve until I see her face. She’s the most
gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen, an angel. And trust me, I’ve seen it all. From my mansion on the hill, I have
the run of this town, only no one knows it.
I operate behind closed doors. You get more done that way.
I have a mind to swing her over my shoulder and make her never forget meeting me.
I saw her banging that dirty cop from afar, and now that I’m up close, I see she’s got another treat as
well.
“What’s your name, honey?” I ask.
“Oh, um, hi. I’m Kat,” she says nervously, not able to tear her eyes away from mine.
“Who’s the guy?” I ask point-blank.
“I’m Jason.” He’s zipping up his pants and offering his hand in a sign of generosity.
What he doesn’t get is that I’m not generous, not with my women, anyway.
“There’s only room for one,” I say, pointing to the motorcycle I’m about to steal, because I’m not
about to let the fuckwad go with Kat and me. “Lose the boyfriend.”
She looks willing to give him up easily, and I’m glad.
The cop’s still unconscious and handcuffed on the ground.
What she doesn’t get is that she doesn’t have a choice. I’m taking her with me whether she wants it
or not.
I grab her by the waist and put her on the back of this Harley and crank it up—what idiot left his
keys in the ignition?—just as she’s waving a tentative goodbye to her little boyfriend.
He’s got nothing on me. I’m a goddamn billionaire bad boy, and if there’s something I see that I
want, I just take it.
Kat grips me hard by the waist as we ride off to my secret estate. The feel of her hands around me
gets my cock hard even as the bike vibrates beneath us. Her vulnerability feels like pure anguish at me not
being able to take advantage of her right here.
If I wanted to, I could take her away, off into the sunset or some such shit, but instead, I have other
plans for her.
What my new beauty doesn’t quite understand is that she’s going to be mine now.
We ride for a while, and the cool breeze makes her squeeze my waist a little bit harder, maybe
because she’s cold, or maybe because she’s scared.
It’s not every day a stranger comes along with a build like mine. I don’t think she’s seen a real man
until this very moment.
I’m going to show her what she’s been missing.
The iron gates of my estate pull open, and we cruise in. I turn to see her awe-struck face and how
she’s trying to take in all the beauty of my mansion even though the light of the moon dimly lights it.
“This is home,” I say, helping her off the bike.
She’s staring up at the facade of the manor, and I hope she realizes that she’s my virtual prisoner
here.
It’s like Beauty and the goddamn Beast, only I’m no beast, unless you count 6’5 of pure, rock-solid
muscle, a chiseled face, and a twelve-inch cock as beastly.
“Come in.” The door creaks open as I lead her inside.
Candles are lit, and they illuminate the wooden paneling and the old architectural detailing of the
place. Black and deep red velvet curtains adorn the windows, and expensive art hangs on the walls.
It’s enough for her to understand that she’s somewhere new—a place where fantasies come true.
“What’ll you drink?” I ask her from the bar in the corner.
She looks at me with wide eyes, trying to understand where she is and how it all got to this point.
There’s a sexual chemistry between us even now. It’s unavoidable, and we both feel it.
“Do you have Pinot Noir?”
“Sure.”
I get her drink, and then I pour myself a scotch.
“Want a tour of the place?”
“Um, yes, of course. It’s beautiful in here.”
I take her hand and lead her through the many rooms. I show her the marble-lined kitchen that has
all the modern amenities—several guest rooms, the theater room, workout room, and then I lead her
upstairs to the observatory.
Her eyes take it all in like she’s trying to memorize it.
“Wow, you can see all the way to the ocean from out here.”
“I know. Do you like it?”
“Like it? I love it.”
Her eyes dazzle in the moonlight as she sips her wine. “You know, I’ve never been in a place like
this.”
I pull her to my side where she can hug my torso. I set her drink down on the wall of the balcony.
And then, under the light of a million stars, I kiss her.
I kiss her passionately like I own her already. All I need is a little bit of a sign from her, and then
I’ll take her away into oblivion.
“Tell me that you want this,” I breathe down her neck.
She doesn’t respond, and that infuriates me. I pull her chin up so that she has to meet my gaze.
 “Tell me what I want to hear,” I practically growl.
She’s defiant, silent, but her eyes tell me everything I need to know. She has a look of yearning.
I kiss her again, slowly this time. She gives in.
I feel her body melt beneath my hands, my lips, my teeth. I’m ready to take this to the next level, and
by the night’s end, I’ll have her begging for it.
Before I can kiss her again, though, we’re interrupted by the doorbell. I look over the edge of the
balcony, and I see her little boyfriend has found my place. Cunning little bastard.
She tries to cry out to him from our position on the balcony, but I cup my hand over her mouth.
“Shhh, not a word, understand?”
She nods yes and then I see it again...that spark of attraction and desire she has for me.
This is gonna be an interesting night.
 Kat


I’m in the house, and Jason is right outside, exactly where we need to be. Taking down this son of a
bitch is going to be even more fun than fucking him. I can’t wait to drop this little girl act and get back to
fucking Jason.
It’s been seven fucking years, after all, and we were thrown into this game the minute we set eyes
on each other again.
Between dirty cops and playboys who think they’re gangsters, Jason and I have had a busy night.
The house is nice, and man, this one knows how to kiss. He probably has a kinky playroom all set
up with all the expensive toys. Dilettante, I wish I could show him some real dominance.
I like making little boys with their expensive toys squirm with just some surgical tape and my
voice.
But tonight, I’m the sub, damsel in distress, his captive. He has his hand over my mouth, so I open
my eyes wide and feign terror mixed with attraction. The attraction is there; terror, not so much.
He takes his hand from my mouth and kisses me hard. I bend back away from the kiss, pretending to
still need coercion. He’ll spill more secrets if he thinks he has control.
He was hard to find, this player in the shadows. He made our job hard. The dirt will be worth it,
though. Trading in secrets is a lucrative business.
He bites my lower lip, and I let out a gasp. His hands are all over my body. I’m wet, already
thinking about Jason breaking in downstairs while I keep the playboy busy.
I don’t want to come on too strong, so I put my hands on his ripped chest, almost pushing him away.
He pulls me closer. Good, I have him just where I want him.
He kisses down my throat, shoving me against the short balcony wall. If I continue my “chase me”
tactic, I’ll find out exactly how high this balcony is, and that will not be a good thing. I wrap my arms
around his neck.
“Oh, we’re so high up,” I whisper. He lifts me up onto the balcony wall and shoves my legs apart.
I’m getting a little nervous that I’m losing control of the situation, but I’m also really wet.
I may have underestimated this guy. He holds my waist with one hand while the other tears my shirt
open, exposing my breasts to the cool night air. Then he slides a hand up my bare thigh and thrusts two
fingers in my wet pussy.
“Such a long way to fall,” he whispers back.
I’m not faking the shiver up my spine, though if it’s from the heights or his thick talented fingers
playing me like a fiddle, I’m not sure. I wrap my legs around him to keep a better grip, and I slip my hands
from his neck, down to the zipper of his pants.
“Tell me what I want to hear,” he growls again.
 “I want it,” I say in my best damsel voice. And I do, I really do want it. I can feel his raging cock
under his tight jeans, and it’s a monster. I want to feel it fill me up, and I want to feel him come before
Jason and I make away with all his secrets.
He growls, and I free his cock from those tight jeans. I feel the sticky precum on my lips before that
monster is inside me. Just what I imagined.
I throw my head back in ecstasy and realize that is not a great idea three stories up. He pulls me
closer to him, and I wrap my legs tighter. He lifts me up and spins us around, slamming me into the side of
the building and fucking me hard up against the wall.
In the back of my mind, I’m timing Jason. He should be in the house, and I’m sure he’s found Will’s
office by now. I’ll give him fifteen more minutes to download what he needs, then it will be time to head
out.
Fifteen more minutes, plenty of time to enjoy my part of the job.
Will’s lips are at my throat, and I feel his rough leather jacket scraping my bare breasts. He slams
his throbbing cock into me again and again. I grind my hips against him, feeling his pubic bone rub my clit.
His hands are soft and cold. They send delightful shivers through my body.
I let myself really enjoy this. I run my hands across his rippling chest and bite his collar bone. This
makes him growl again, and he thrusts even harder into me. I’m starting to lose my focus, but that’s okay.
I let wave after wave of pleasure wash over me and allow myself to indulge for just a little while,
finding the sheer edge of pleasure before I can take the plunge.
Time is almost up, my little playtoy. He does have enthusiasm. I might miss him.
I let go of the orgasm that’s been building. Sometimes I have to fake it, but not this time. I dive into
the pleasure, and my pussy squeezing his cock is almost too much for my would-be Bluebeard.
My hips buck against the wall, knocking him back on his feet a bit.
“Please let me ride you,” I whisper. This is the part I needed to get to. He kneels and slides to the
floor, still inside me. He’s so pretty in his rugged, I wanna be bad way.
I’m so tempted to keep him and make him a pet. Show him what true dominance is. But alas, that is
not his fate.
I start slow, timid and shy. Back in character. I speed up and lean down to kiss him.
He grabs my breasts and pinches my stiff nipples. I might just get to come again. I do like this one.
I feel him building to a climax. His cock is throbbing in my cunt, and his breath is coming faster.
I lay one arm across his throat. He doesn’t even notice; he’s shifted one hand from my tit to my clit
and is pinching and rubbing in time to my thrusting. I almost lose focus again as he drives me back to the
peak.
Just as we’re both about to fall over the edge, I get a hold of myself and apply gentle pressure with
my arm to his bare throat.
He explodes inside me just as I come again, my cunt grasping his spasming cock and pulling him
deeper inside me. I feel his cum spilling out and down my leg, and his consciousness fades and he passes
out from lack of oxygen.
I hear slow clapping behind me.
“I see you got what you needed,” says Jason, tossing me a black T-shirt dress. “So did I. Let’s get
the fuck out of here.”
 Jason


“What the fuck’s going on?” Will says, looking from me to Kat and then back again as he regains
consciousness. I expected him to be out longer than that.
“Surprised, motherfucker?” I ask him, reaching inside my pocket and grabbing the pen drive. His
eyes widen as he realizes what Kat and I have done.
“That’s right, Will,” Kat tells him, taking two steps back from him and putting on the dress I just
handed her.
I watch her do it, the curves of her naked body making my cock twitch, and my heart tightens inside
my chest as images of her and Will going at it crash into my mind. But it had to be done, no matter how
much it fucking hurts me.
It had to fucking be done. And now we can move on from all this shit.
“No, no, no,” he stammers, grabbing his pants and getting inside them, his cock deflating faster than
a slashed tire. “You can’t do that, you can’t—”
“Shut the fuck up, Will,” Kat hisses, and then she cocks her arm back and slaps him with the back of
her hand. “You might think of yourself as a smart-ass playboy, but you’re just an excuse of a man,” she
continues, coming up to my side and laying one hand on my shoulder. “And now we have everything.”
“Everything,” I repeat, closing my hand around the pen drive and putting it back in my pocket. “And
now that we have everything, you’re about to become nothing.”
“If you do that—”
“Yeah, what happens next? The Feds come knocking at your door? Maybe something worse. Maybe
someone will come up to you in some dark alley and put a bullet between your eyes. I know all that, Will,
and to be honest…I don’t give a shit.”
With that, I close the distance between me and him and ram my fist into his face. He stumbles back,
pressed against the railing of the balcony, and for half a second, I almost believe he’s going to tumble
back and dive into an early death.
Not that I’d care.
“Let’s get out of here,” I tell Kat, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her across Will’s penthouse.
We’re close, and I can smell her sweet perfume. My cock’s trying to react to it, boiling blood
making it harden up against the fabric of my pants, but I take a deep breath and try to remain in control. It’s
not like I can fuck her right here and now—well, I could do it, but then I’d have to deal with Will, and I’m
not in the mood for an execution tonight.
Although, to be honest, I’m aching to put a bullet in that fucker’s brain. I simply can’t accept the fact
that he fucked Kat. I know it was necessary, part of the plan, but still…Kat’s mine, and only mine. No one
has the right to lay one finger on her.
 Shit, just thinking of this makes me want to go back and throw Will off the fucking balcony. Might
be I come back later and do just that, but for now I have more important stuff to do. Like show Kat how a
real man takes care of business. And by business, I mean…ah, fuck, I don’t need to explain what I mean,
do I?
“What happens now?” Kat asks me as she reaches for my hand. I grab it as we head out of the
apartment, and then we get inside of the elevator. My cock’s so hard now that I seriously don’t know if I
can wait. Maybe I’ll just fuck her right now.
“Now…whatever we want to do, we can do,” I whisper, pushing her back against the wall and
holding her arms over her head. She gasps slightly, her lips parting as if her mouth is waiting for mine.
Grinning, I lean into her and kiss her, pushing my tongue inside her mouth and closing my eyes as I
allow the sweet flavor of her mouth to climb up to my brain.
“Is this because of Will?” she asks me then, escaping my kiss and looking straight into my eyes.
There’s a mischievous glint there, one that means she’s up to no good. She’s teasing me, and she’s
enjoying every fucking second of it.
“What is? Do you think I just want to fuck you because of what happened between you and Will?”
“Maybe,” she whispers back at me, a wicked grin dancing on her lips.
“Maybe you’re right then,” I growl, placing my hand on her neck while I grin back at her. “Might be
I have to fuck those memories out of you.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad, you know,” she replies, her breathing growing heavier by the second.
My cock’s so hard right now that I’m half surprised it still hasn’t ripped a hole in my pants. Fuck,
Kat always had this effect on me. I can’t be around her without wanting to fuck the living daylights out of
her.
That’s love for you.
I’m about to pin her against the wall, hike up her dress, and start fucking her when the elevator
doors slide to the side and into their partitions, their soft ding letting us know that we’ve arrived at the
ground floor.
“Saved by the bell,” I whisper, taking my hand out of her neck and smiling. She pats down the front
of her dress and walks out of the elevator, and then she looks back at me over her shoulders.
“Who said I want to be saved?”
Kat—what happened to my sweet, naive girl?
 Will


No way am I going to let that motherfucker punch me in the fucking face and walk the fuck out with
Kat.
I almost fall off the balcony. And that fucker just walks out.
That’s it. Something in me has finally fucking snapped, and I’m fucking done.
It’s going to be him. Or me.
I pull out my phone and look through my contacts. There’s only one person I call in situations like
this.
“Grainger,” I say into the phone. “I need a pacification team to meet me on the roof.”
He tells me it’s going to take fifteen minutes.
There’s no sense in having a private security force if you’re not going to use it. I get out into the
hallway, nursing my jaw, and wait for the elevator. I take it to the top floor and then climb the stairs that
head to the roof.
There’s no way I’m going to let Jason get away.
I’m going to kill him.
That’s when the helicopter appears on the horizon. I raise my hands and wave in case the pilot is
looking for me.
I watch as the small speck becomes larger and then finally as it approaches the building. I back
away as the helicopter descends and five men jump out.
“Hand me the sniper rifle,” I command, and the lead man, dressed in a dark suit, reaches into the
chopper and pulls out a wicked-looking gun. He hands it to me, and I feel its weight and heft.
It’s good. I can get a good fucking shot here. I nod.
“Let’s go,” I tell them. I get in the chopper and put on my headphones and mic and explain exactly
what I want to do.
I want to swoop down into the city and take aim at Jason.
Then I want to shoot him in the leg so he can’t walk. Then I’m going to jump down and personally
stab him in the throat in front of Kat.
Then I’m going to take Kat. And I’m going to fuck her.
And she’s going to enjoy it. Because the strongest of us will have won her.
See, I know women like Kat. All she cares is who the most alpha of the alpha males is. She’s the
kind of woman that will fucking gravitate to power.
So it’s basically kill or fucking be killed with her.
The helicopter starts to ascend before banking left and descending again, going through the
buildings. I can see people on the street turn their heads to look at us. It’s not every day that a helicopter
flies so low to the ground.
Fuck it. I don’t care.
They think I’m a fucking effete fucking playboy? Well, let’s see what they think after I get done with
this.
I line up my scope to my eye and take aim, searching for Jason.
I find him. He’s just fucking walking down the street with Kat.
I take aim as the helicopter descends. They haven’t seen me yet. They’re in their own little fucking
world.
Wait till they realize that I’ve just invaded that world and I’m going to nuke it.
I pull the trigger.
The bullet tears through Jason’s leg, and I see him fall to the ground.
 Kat


“Jason!”
The scream rips through my throat, raw and anguished.
No. Not this.
Not after everything we’ve done to get to this point. It’s like the end was finally in sight. And now
that fucker Will is going to steal everything that’s ever mattered right out from under me.
Again.
I drop to my knees next to Jason, carefully checking the wound that’s gushing blood like a fucking
fire hydrant.
Fuck. It’s the femoral artery.
“Jason, please,” I beg, my voice desperate as I shake him, trying to get him to hang on to the
consciousness that I can see is fading fast. “Don’t leave me. Not again.”
He smiles faintly. “You’re the one who never showed up.”
It’s a joke. Yeah, a fucking poor attempt at one, but Jason never was one to take impending death
seriously.
It still hits me like a fucking sucker-punch. He has to know, right? He knows I didn’t just leave him.
Or rather, send him to our safe house alone, then never follow. He can’t just die now. Not when we finally
have our chance we’ve waited seven fucking years for.
First things first, though.
I pull out my phone and dial 9-1-1.
But just as I’m about to hit send, I hear the beat of propellers behind me. I turn around and gasp.
No fucking way.
There’s fucking Will, hanging from the ladder of a helicopter like he’s fucking Jason Bourne or
some shit.
Rage boils up inside of me. He won’t get away with this. I won’t let him.
He’s the one who caused all our problems to begin with, a fucking mole in Daddy’s organization. It
was a long time before I sniffed out the truth.
He turned Daddy against Jason, and Jason’s been in fucking hiding for years. The knowledge of all
that time we could have had risen to the surface, and fury like I’ve never known takes over my body,
fueling me with adrenaline.
I hit the call button on the phone, then lean down to press a hard kiss to Jason’s lips.
“Hang in there, baby. Don’t give up on us now.” I wrap his fingers around my phone and push it
toward his face before grabbing the gun from his belt and one from his body holster.
Then I have to hope for the best.
 I stand and turn just as Will jumps the last few feet to the ground, a fucking sniper rifle trained on
us.
Everything that matters hinges on the next few seconds. Heaven or hell. Life or death.
Jason or Will.
It’s going to be fucking Will.
I unleash years of pent-up rage as I unload both pistols at the same time, walking straight toward
Will with my eyes glued to his evil grin.
It’s like time slows down, everything transpiring in a Matrix-like slow-motion feed.
I see the minute the first bullet hits Will, square in the chest. I mean, Daddy didn’t train his little girl
to be anything less than a crack shot.
Then that twisted smirk is frozen in place as his beady eyes go wide with shock and I riddle his
body with every last fucking bullet in both guns. It’s a gratifying sight, one I won’t soon forget. Or want to.
Finally, fucking finally, all of this is over.
Will falls to the ground in a lifeless heap as the chopper still hovers above us, its light shining
down on us, illuminating the bloody scene like we’re performing for a fucking audience.
I stare up at the pilot. Is he one of Will’s goons that’s ready to kill me on the spot?
Just then, I hear the sound of sirens in the distance, and it sounds like fucking bells to my ringing
ears.
I race back to Jason’s side to find him pale and shivering.
“Hang on just another minute, baby. It’s over. It’s fucking over.”
I drop to my knees and cradle his head in my hands. His lips are blue, his eyes dim.
No! He will make it through this.
My face is wet, and I realize I’m sobbing, my tears falling down my cheeks to Jason’s nearly
lifeless body.
The sirens become a muted sound as everything in my world narrows down to a laser focus on
Jason. I feel like I’m watching our future slip between my fingers. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
We were supposed to get the files, clear Jason’s name, then live out the rest of our lives in a little cottage
outside Tulum.
Jason’s eyes droop shut, and I find myself shaking him, begging him not to leave me.
Then I’m being pulled off him, and paramedics are loading him onto a gurney.
I hear mutters and curses and fragments of their words. The ones I do catch make my heart stop.
“Didn’t get here in time…”
Then everything goes black.
 Jason


Riding off into the fucking sunset.
Right.
That shit’s only for the movies.
Because right now I’m in the back of an ambulance in the middle of the fucking night, and I don’t
even have my girl beside me.
How the fuck did I not plan for this? I plan for fucking everything. Down to the last detail. I mean,
all I had to do was send Kat one message—now or never—and everything happened just as it was
supposed to.
Almost. I wasn’t supposed to get fucking shot and almost bleed out on the ground outside of fucking
Will’s.
“Where is she?” I demand, fighting against the restraints the paramedics had to use on me.
Said I had to keep still. It was for my own good. Fuck that.
I need my girl. That’s the only thing that will make this better.
“She’s following behind us. Bruce has her in his patrol car.”
Who the fuck is Bruce?
Wait, how did they…?
The question must be written on my face because the acne-scarred guy checking my IV drip starts
talking.
“We got a tip from some girl named Kristen. Said we might need to check out what was going down
at that place tonight.”
Kristen? Kat’s Kristen?
I shake my head, grinning despite the fact that I feel like my whole fucking body is on fire right now.
Are these motherfuckers holding out on the good stuff? Can’t they see I need more than some fucking
Tylenol or whatever useless shit they’re pumping into my veins?
Kristen must have known all along. Kat was working with her. Hoping against hope that even after
all this time I’d somehow make my plan work.
It took fucking long enough. Seven years is a long goddamn time to wait on someone. Yet she did.
She came.
And despite all the insanity of the past twenty-four hours, we might actually make it through this.
They must decide it’s time for the good stuff because suddenly my body feels relaxed and I drift
into blackness.
When I wake up I’m in a hospital room. The glaring lights make me blink, temporarily blinded. But
when my eyesight adjusts, I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven, even though for a guy like me, that’s a
fucking lot to hope for.
But she’s like a fucking angel standing there beside my bed, her soft hands gripping mine.
“Kat.”
She smiles, that fucking gorgeous smile that’s the only thing that got me through the past seven years
of living off the grid, hoping my day would come.
It finally has.
“God, Jason,” she says, a smirk on her face. “You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”
I manage a small chuckle. “Don’t you know that by now, baby?”
Then she’s serious again, leaning down close, her eyes penetrating my very soul.
“I love you, Jason. You have to know, all of this was part of the plan. Everything that happened.”
I stop her with one hard stare. “It was my fucking plan, Kat. Don’t you think I know that?”
I still can’t believe it worked. Well, I think it did.
“What about the pen drive? Do you have it?” I add quickly.
She nods her head. “I grabbed it right after I killed Will.”
“You killed him?” I can’t keep the shock out of my voice.
She nods. Looks like little Kat has grown up a bit after all. I mean, yeah, she grew up around this
shit, but her father shielded her from it. For the most part.
He didn’t manage to shield her from me.
Then her words finally sink in.
“Say that again.”
She frowns. “I killed Will?”
“Before that.”
She smiles slowly, looking fucking perfect. Then after drawing it out for what feels like fucking
ever, she finally tells me what I want to hear.
“I love you.”
“Fuck, Kat, do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”
“Seven years?” she says with a smirk.
“I love you too, baby. I fucking love you so fucking much.”
“Then why don’t you fucking show me?” Now her eyes are glinting with mischief. “Or don’t you
think the nurses would approve?”
Fuck that. I don’t care what strict orders I’ve been giving. Will is fucking dead, I’ve got my life
back, and I have Kat here beside me.
You better believe I’m about to fuck her brains out.
I don’t even have to tell her. She just climbs right on top of me, careful of my bandaged leg. And for
once I’m not totally despising the fucking hospital gown I woke up in. Because it sure as fuck makes
fucking my girl a lot more convenient.
 Kat sinks down onto my already rock-hard cock in one smooth motion, and fuck, she’s so fucking
wet and so fucking tight that it takes everything I have not to fill her up with my cum right the fuck now, to
claim her as mine once and for all.
She starts out slowly, rolling her hips as she rides my cock, doing all the work, and I find yet one
more benefit to being stuck in a hospital bed. Who fucking knew?
But then I can’t wait any longer. I grip her hips, digging my fingers in hard enough to bruise, and the
moan she lets out shows me just how much she likes it.
We fuck hard and fast, and before I know it, she’s coming hard, all over my cock, clenching and
gripping and convulsing around me while she cries out in ecstasy.
“That’s right, baby. Tell me I’m the only one.”
“Always, Jason,” she pants as I continue to drive into her through what feels like a never-ending
orgasm. “It’s always been you. I love you.”
“I fucking love you, too,” I growl again. Then I unload my cum into her sweet pussy, feeling more at
ease than I’ve felt in a long damn time.
I’ve got my girl, my name is about to be cleared, and we have our whole lives ahead of us. Finally,
there’s nothing stopping us from being together.
Nothing could be better.
 Double Feature




By Daphne Dawn


Copyright 2018 by Crimson Vixens
All rights reserved



This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.
This work intended for adults only.



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 Kayla


I squeeze my stress ball in total frustration. What has happened to the day? About an hour ago, after
my usual morning jog, I felt like I could take on the world.
I was ready to put fingers to keyboard and watch the words fly onto the screen, but now I’m sit-ting
in my office, and nothing is happening.
My gaze travels, and I contemplate the elaborate certificate displaying my name and its various
meanings, a present from my mother some years ago—one she bought during her travels to Cairo. It used
to be at home, but when I took this job, with my own office and view, I decided to hang it up at work.
According to the elaborate gold-lettered writing, Kayla has several different meanings, depending
on what country you look to. To some, it means “wise one.”
I have to say…I don’t feel particularly wise this morning. Time’s ticking, and I’m not producing.
With a sigh, I randomly hit some keys on my keyboard so my screen no longer looks so white and
empty.
As I bring my coffee to my lips, I cringe. Can the day get any worse? I hate cold coffee.
I bite my bottom lip.
I haven’t produced anything this morning, and I cannot justify a coffee break already. My eyes look
at the little clock in the top right-hand corner of my computer. Maybe if I write for thirty minutes, I can
reward myself with a break and get a fresh, strong, and hot coffee.
My fingers hover over the keyboard. I don’t know how long they stay there without moving. With a
sigh, I rummage around the top drawer of my desk, looking for a notepad.
Sometimes words seem to flow faster and better if I use the old-fashioned writing tools: pen and
paper.
Slowly I unscrew the top of my gold nib fountain pen. I draw a few swirly lines to make sure there
is still ink in it. Good, no further excuses.
Part of me had hoped that lack of ink would mean I’d have to duck out and buy some more. But
alas, I really have run out of stalling tactics.
And so I let the pen do the work. Suddenly, a few scenes come to mind, and I make random notes.
“Good to see you working, baby cakes.”
I cringe and look up, my pen stopping midword. The last word now looks more like a drunken
spider walked across my page, and I curse Ed quietly.
“Don’t call me that,” I say and look up.
“They still make pens, huh?” Ed ignores my comment and comes up to my desk, sitting on the edge
of it. He takes the pen out of my hand and pretends to examine it.
“Or is this one a relic from the last century?”
 Instead of a reply, I pull the pen out of his hand and screw the top back on.
“Only people who’ve been taught the craft of writing know how to use one of these,” I pause before
I continue. “Oh, I forgot, you weren’t taught the craft of writing.”
Ed is the one reason my job is harder than it should be. Ed is the bane of my existence at the
moment.
He ignores my comment and throws some papers onto my desk.
“Some notes for you for the second half of the season. I thought I better give you a hand, since you
are new to this gig.”
If I could, I’d like to wipe that smug look off his milky face. Ed, as far as I’m concerned, is the
opposite of sex appeal. His skin’s so pasty, I wonder if he ever goes outdoors.
The expensive designer suits do nothing for his short stature and thin body. Exercise isn’t high on
Ed’s agenda as well. Even the mere thought of seeing Ed in shorts and a T-shirt makes me want to throw
up.
Knowing Ed expects me to look at what he has given me, I randomly scan the pages.
I read a paragraph here and there, and then I feel the world turn up side down. Is he serious?
“You want me to do what?” I know my voice is no longer cool, calm, and collected; it probably
rose an octave or two despite my best endeavor to sound perfectly in control.
“What’s the matter, baby cakes? Not up to the challenge?”
Ed has picked up my stress ball and looks at it.
“What do you do with this?”
“I told you not to call me that,” I hiss at him.
Lines have to be drawn. Ed’s taking way too many liberties with me. Producer or not, I’m still the
head writer.
Slow down, my inner voice tries to warn me. Think before you speak. You are still new to this
game. You are not quite there yet to throw your weight around.
“So you want me to kill one of the lead characters?” I ask, just to make sure I calm down a lit-tle.
Ed nods. “Sure, what’s wrong with that?”
I take a deep breath in before slowly exhaling. Deep breathing helps me to calm down.
“I think it’s too early in the show to kill one of the three brothers.” I pause and think. “The show is
about three brothers. What’s the point of killing one of them already?”
Although, as I think about Ian’s performance the other day, I’m tempted to grab this golden
opportunity and kill him. It would almost be a pleasure.
As I dwell on this, I start warming to the idea. Ian, if I am brutally honest, is hopeless.
“Don’t be silly,” Ed’s voice stops me mid-thought.
“What’d you mean?” I must have missed something.
“The killing thing. People love to see someone get killed off. It brings ratings. You’ll see.”
 I’m still not convinced. Something doesn’t sound right about this. And why, as head writer, do I not
get a say in this?
“But the show has only been going for one season. I can’t see the point in killing one of the key
characters already.” I try and make my point. “I don’t want to kill one of them already. Maybe later,
maybe when the time’s right.”
“You need to kill one of them.” Ed sounds firmer now as though no further discussion will be
entered into. “The network expects it, and don’t forget who’s funding this project and with it, your job.”
His words feel like a threat. My heart beats a little faster. I don’t want to lose this job.
“Looks like I don’t have a choice then, do I?” I mutter and try to hide my disappointment. I had
different views of how the story should progress, and it didn’t involve killing one of my characters.
“Of course you have a choice, baby cakes.” Ed is smiling his sleazy, slimy smile now. “You al-
ways have a choice.”
Puzzled, I look at him.
“You can choose which one to kill off.”
I prick my ears, and my mood lightens just a little.
Ian, I will kill Ian.
While his character is a great character, Ian as an actor is hopeless. I can’t understand how he has
gotten as far in the acting world as he has.
“I–” I start, but it’s as if Ed has read my mind. He interrupts me.
“You can kill any of them…except Ian.”
Openmouthed, I stare at Ed. Did he really just say I can’t kill Ian? Where’s my choice then?
Before I can say anything else, Ed’s mobile interrupts the two of us. Without another word, he
leaves my office, mouthing something like “got to take this.”
When the door shuts behind him, I feel like screaming, but I refrain myself. Swear words leave my
mouth, and I pick up my stress ball. Instead of squeezing it, I throw it at the large window looking out
over Venice Beach.
I push my chair back and go to retrieve my stress ball. I don’t go back to my desk straightaway.
Instead, I lean my forehead on the glass and stare at the people lying on the beach, playing beach
volleyball, jogging, and walking.
Do those people, some of whom no doubt watch my show The Kings, really want one of the
brothers killed?
And if so, why can’t it be Ian? Ian’s the weakest out of the trio. He has nothing on Brad and Scott.
Why is Ian “off-limits,” as Ed put it?
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s because Ed’s got a thing for Ian…but I know that’s not the
case.
In the end, I walk back to my desk and try one more time to start writing. I put the whole “get-ting
rid of one my lead characters” to one side.
Unfortunately, I cannot think of anything other than Ed’s words.
“Ian is off-limits.”
 Brad


“The director’s wife apparently has an affair with—”
“I don’t care,” I say, my sneakers hitting the hard concrete at a fast clip. I can hear Shauna huffing
and puffing behind me as she tries to keep the pace, but I try to keep the focus on my own breathing.
Having a personal assistant is fine, but I just hate it when she insists on following after me during
my morning runs. Can’t a guy have a moment’s rest?
According to Shauna, no—an actor should always be kept in the loop. Of course, that means she’s
always trying to tell me about the latest gossip in the industry.
Now I always know who’s cheating on who.
“Oh, but this is important because—”
“Shauna, seriously,” I tell her, slowing down my pace and looking back at her over my shoulder.
Her cheeks are flushed, long locks of hair are already plastered to her face, and heavy beads of sweat are
trailing down her cheeks.
I always feel bad whenever she tries to keep up with me, but what can I do? She’s the one who
insists on coming.
“What?” she asks me, and then she stops, bending over and placing her hands on her knees. She
takes deep breaths, her cheeks becoming more flushed by the second, and I stop my run and walk back to
her.
“You okay?”
“I’m…I’m fine,” she breathes out, standing up straight, her cellphone still in her hand. “I was just
trying to keep you up-to-date.”
“Being up-to-date is fine,” I reply. “But that doesn’t mean you have to tell me every single piece of
gossip you hear on the internet.”
“Oh, I know that. It’s just that you never know what might be important,” she tells me, distract-edly
scrolling through the newsfeed on her phone. I doubt she heard a word of what I just said.
“Shouldn’t you be acting as my filter? You’re supposed to tell me only the important things.” I place
my hands on my hips, looking at her as she keeps her gaze fixed on her phone.
Fucking hell, I almost want to take the phone out of her hands and smash it to pieces.
I love Shauna to bits—she’s the best personal assistant I’ve ever had, and she’s always on top of
every little thing—but she seems like a drug addict when it comes to the internet. I don’t think I can
remember a single time where she didn’t have her phone in her hands.
“Oh god,” she suddenly whispers, raising her eyes from the phone for the first time in a minute.
“This is big.”
“What’s big?” I ask her, cocking one eyebrow. Probably someone important having an affair.
 Everyone in Hollywood seems to be having an affair. Maybe someone should write a column about
that—Cheater of the Week or something.
“I’m serious, Brad,” she insists, and this time I actually believe she has something interesting for
me. The look in her eyes tells me she’s worried, and it’s never a good thing when Shauna’s worried. It
usually means that there’s trouble on the horizon.
“C’mon, tell me,” I insist, resisting the urge to simply take the phone out of her hands and see with
my own eyes what got her that worried.
“Apparently, a rumor surfaced on the web about the second season of The Kings,” she finally starts,
her thumb slowly sliding over the screen of her phone.”
“We’re not getting axed, are we? I mean, the ratings were through the roof last season—”
“It’s not that.” She cuts me short with a wave of her hand. “Apparently, one of the leads is go-ing to
be killed off this season.”
“What the fuck?” I ask her in disbelief. That doesn’t make any fucking sense.
The whole premise of the show involves three brothers battling it out for the family’s fortune (and
the heart of one girl), so why the hell would the production kill off one of the main characters during the
second season?
“That’s what everyone’s commenting on,” Shauna shrugs, furiously scrolling through the comments
on the article she’s reading. “And the studio has decided not to comment on the issue, stating that
creatively speaking, all choices are valid.”
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“It’s not that bad. This is creating a lot of buzz. Ratings are going to be through the roof once the
second season starts.”
“Yeah, right. But what if I’m the one being killed off?” I ask her, pursing my lips as I consider the
implications. A show like The Kings offers a straight path to money and critical acclaim—it is, after all,
one of these once-in-a-lifetime productions—and I sure as hell don’t want to have my head chopped off
during the second season while Ian and Scott stick around to reap the rewards.
“I need to do something,” I tell Shauna without waiting for her reply. “I can’t stand around with my
hands in my pockets while someone decides my fate.”
“Maybe you could talk with Ed?”
“Ed?” Right, like that asshole would ever hear me out.
He only cares about one thing, and that’s the studio bottom line. He’d happily kill every single
character and replace them with pink CGI unicorns if that meant his wallet would keep on growing fatter.
“No, I can’t speak with Ed,” I finally say.
“Then what about Kayla?”
“Kayla?”
“Yeah, I know you’ve had your eye on her for a while now,” Shauna comments, her lips curling into
a teasing grin.
Shit, is it that obvious? Maybe it is, I guess. After all, what kind of guy wouldn’t have his sights set
on a woman like Kayla?
Kayla’s smart (you don’t get to be head writer of a show like The Kings just because you look
good) and she’s a stunner.
There’s a sweetness to her eyes, and her lips seem to have the perfect shape for kissing. And when
she walks, the sway of her perfect hips always makes my cock twitch inside my pants. I don’t even know
how many times I’ve wondered how it’d feel to have her naked body pressed against mine.
“Maybe it’s time you make your move. Get into her good graces, and maybe she won’t chop your
head off,” she tells me, making a dramatic gesture as she runs one thumb over her neck.
“Jesus fuck, Shauna. You really know how to cheer a guy up.” I sigh heavily, run one hand through
my hair, and then look straight into Shauna’s eyes. “Alright, what’s the game plan?”
“Well.” She chuckles. “Time for you to realize that knowing everything about everything pays off.”
“Spit it out, Shauna. My career is on the line.”
“Alright, so…Organic Express delivers Kayla’s lunch every day, and she always eats in her office
alone. That’s her routine, and she doesn’t deviate from it.”
“Well, I guess she won’t be eating alone today then.”
 Scott


Jab, jab, right hook.
I land each one of my punches, and Chris tries to bob his head from side to side aimlessly,
struggling to keep standing. Despite his experience inside the boxing ring, he’s no match for me –
especially when I’m pissed.
“Jesus, fuck, man!” He breathes out through his mouthpiece, his words coming at me slurred and
confused. “What’s gotten into you?”
“You told me you wanted to spar,” I shrug. “That’s what I’m doing.”
“You’re not sparring,” he protests, lowering his arms and spitting it out his mouthpiece. “You’re
trying to fucking murder me.”
Harsh words, especially coming from Chris. He has been my personal trainer since forever, and I
don’t remember him ever saying something like that. Yeah, I guess I’m feeling particularly pissed off
today.
“Sorry, man,” I sigh, taking off my gloves and letting them fall to the mat. I walk to the corner and
sit down on the small bench, taking a bottle of water from one of the guys watching our sparring session –
or my murder attempt, as Chris put it.
“What is it? A woman? Work?” He asks me, walking up to me and placing his back against the
rope. I hand him the bottle and he empties it fast.
“Just work, I guess,” I reply, running one hand through my sweat-soaked hair.
“Well, shit, let’s hit the heavy bag then,” he tells me, jumping out from the ring.
Groaning, I get up from the bench and follow after him, fully knowing that almost everyone in this
fucking gym is staring at me. I’m used to it by now, but this time is different – I was really putting on a
show inside the ring, throwing the hardest punches I could at Chris.
“Want to get your gloves back?” He asks me as he steps behind the heavy bag, grabbing it with both
hands.
“Nah, I’ll just go with the hand straps.”
I need to feel the punches, even if I scrap my knuckles. I need to release all this fucking tension,
even if that means my hands will be sore for the next couple of days.
Nodding at Chris, I then start throwing jab after jab at the heavy bag. He groans with every single
punch I land, grimacing as he tries to stop the heavy bag from swaying back and forth.
“What’s happening at work? It sure got you rattled,” he asks me through his gritted teeth, pushing
his shoulder against the bag.
“Some fucking asshole…has decided to…kill off a main character,” I tell him between punches,
barely blinking as I keep my eyes trained on the heavy bag, imagining the face of some anonymous
producer in there.
Who the fuck decides to kill off a main character in a show that’s a hit? The Kings is the most
hyped up show on TV, and now that we’ve started shooting the second season I start hearing all these
rumors. It doesn’t make any fucking sense.
“So what? Do you think you’ll be the one getting killed off?”
“I sure hope not,” I reply, throwing a hook so hard at the bag that Chris groans as if he was the one
taking the hit. “The Kings is killing it, you know? We’ve got the ratings; we’ve got the critical acclaim.
We have it all, man. I can feel it, whoever’s in this project will make a killing.”
“Curious choice of words,” Chris snorts, but I shut him up really fast. Digging my right heel onto
the floor, I twist my hips fast and send my right fist flying against the bag. The impact is so strong that
Chris lets go of the bag and stumbles back, a surprised expression on his face.
“Shit,” he laughs, “you’re not fucking around, are you? You really want to stay in the show.”
“Of course.” I stop for a moment, catching my breath and wiping the sweat off my brow. “I have the
money, but I want something more, you know? I want to be recognized. I want to do something great. And
I can do that in this show…unless they fucking kill me off, that is.”
“Well, shit, can’t you talk to anyone?”
“Like who? That shithead producer, Ed? Yeah, right,” I reply, now imagining Ed’s face on the
heavy bag. That fucking idiot was probably the one pitching that stupid idea. He probably wants to start
cutting costs, and while we’re still at ground level.
“There’s gotta be someone,” Chris insists, and I suddenly realize that he’s right. There’s someone,
alright.
“Maybe,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. There’s someone that might be capable of helping
me…someone with real power on the show. “There’s Kayla.”
“The writer? She’s the one penning your scripts, right?”
“Yeah, she’s the head writer for the show. You know her?”
“Of course,” he laughs, perhaps noticing the hopeful expression that must be plastered on my face.
“I’ve trained her a few times. She’s a cool girl. And hot too.”
“That’s right,” I nod, Kayla the only thing on my mind right now.
I don’t know her that well – I just talked to her the few times she decided to show up on set – but
she sure as hell left an impression whenever we talked. It’s not just that she’s got the perfect lips and
curves; she’s smart too. I mean, she has to be smart to write something as great as The Kings.
 Brad


“Hold on,” I tell the delivery guy as he strolls through the gates, cradling a plastic bag to his chest.
He’s wearing a green cap and jacket, the Organic Express logo plastered all over his clothes, and there’s
an anxious expression in his face.
He wasn’t expecting someone to stop him.
“I’m making a delivery for Kayla, the writer for—”
“The Kings,” I finish his sentence for him, stepping right in front of him and flashing him my best
actor’s smile.
The moment he realizes that he’s face-to-face with one of The Kings’ main actors, his jaw almost
drops to the floor.
“Oh, shit,” he mutters in disbelief, almost dropping the bag he’s holding.
“Whoa, careful,” I tell him, reaching for the bag before it slides off from his arms. “You don’t want
to ruin Kayla’s lunch.”
“No, I don’t want to ruin Kayla’s lunch,” he repeats after me, his tone of voice so monotone that I
feel like a Jedi master implanting thoughts on unsuspecting citizens.
Sometimes being a famous actor has its perks.
“Actually, why don’t I take care of it for you? I’ll deliver lunch for her,” I continue, now
transitioning into my no-really-I’m-a-nice-guy smile.
“Er,” he starts, scratching the side of his head, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m not supposed to do
that. Company’s policy, ya know? I’m supposed to deliver the food to Kayla, not anyone else.
“C’mon, man.” I laugh. “What do ya think I’m gonna do with this? Poison her? She’s my writer. I
need her.”
“Yeah, but still,” he continues, shifting his weight from foot to foot. I need to convince him to let me
do the delivery—that’s my in with Kayla, and I’m not going to let it go to waste, whatever it takes.
“Seriously,” I start, taking one step toward him and laying one hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you
have a lot of deliveries to make today, and you don’t need to walk across the whole studio lot just to
deliver this.” I hold the food bag in front of his face for a second. “I’ve got it covered.”
“I don’t know…” he whispers, taking his cap off and running his tongue between his lips. He looks
uncomfortable, torn between doing what some big shot TV star tells him to do and obeying his company
policy.
Maybe I can help in his little dilemma.
“Alright, man,” I tell him, stealing the cap off his hands and grabbing the pen he has tucked in his
breast pocket. Holding the cap in the same hand I’m holding the food bag, I scribble my name across it
and then hand it over.
 “Oh, shit,” he whistles, his eyes widening as he looks at my autograph. The kid’s a fan, that much I
can tell.
Maybe I can make him even more of a fan.
Reaching inside my back pocket, I grab my wallet and take two one-hundred-dollar bills from the
inside. I fold them up and then tuck them inside his breast pocket before he can stop me.
“Just a tip,” I say. “I know you’ve been coming here every day since shooting started, and I want to
know we all appreciate your hard work. Take the rest of the day off if you can. Treat your girl to dinner.”
Is this how it feels to fucking bribe someone? Because I feel like Al Capone patting a dirty cop on
the head.
Although, yeah, I doubt Al Capone would bother with bribing the delivery guy from Organic
Express.
“Thank you,” the delivery kid finally responds, rocking back on his heels and putting his cap on. “I
really, really appreciate it!”
I offer him my hand then and give him a firm handshake, my you’re-welcome smile now plastered
on my lips. Yeah, I have a lot of different smiles, and they all serve a purpose.
“Well, shit. I pulled it off,” I whisper to myself as I watch the delivery guy turning on his heels and
marching back out the studio gates. I stand there, watching him get inside his van and leave while I
balance the food bag on one hand.
Taking a deep breath, I turn around and start making my way toward Kayla’s office. I’ve never been
there, as the head writer’s usually someone distant from day-to-day production, but now’s the time to get
to know Kayla a little better.
My fate hangs in her hands after all.
Three minutes later and I’m standing outside her office, my right hand hovering over the door. I rap
my knuckles against it and then perk up my ears as I wait for her reply.
“Come in!” she shouts from the inside, and I reach for the door’s handle immediately. “Just on time.
I’m so hungry that I—”
“Yeah?” I chuckle, strolling inside her office and putting down her food bag on top of her desk. I
look into her eyes, enjoying the way surprise has made her choke on her words.
She wasn’t expecting to see me here. Why would she?
“When did you get into the food delivery game?” She chuckles softly, tucking a lock of hair over
her ear. Even though she sounds upbeat, I notice there are bags under her eyes (ones she has tried to
conceal with her makeup), and her forehead is creased.
More than just stressed, she looks overworked.
“I’m a man of many talents.” I laugh, trying to get her mind off whatever’s worrying her. I don’t
know why I’m doing this—it has nothing to do with wanting my character to stay alive. It’s just an urge to
make her laugh and smile.
 “Besides,” I continue, trying to keep my focus, “I might need to keep my options open.”
“Oh, so you’ve heard of it?” she asks me, reaching inside the bag and taking the small carton boxes
from the inside.
“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” I reply, and then I sit on the director’s chair she has next to her desk.
I might stay here a while.
 Kayla


As I stare at Brad, who has made himself comfortable in my director’s chair, my nerve cells tingle
ever so slightly. He certainly is a bit of eye candy. Nothing wrong with looking, I tell myself before I open
my lunch pack.
Since starting on this project, I order my lunch from the same place every day. I’m almost sorry
Brad brought it in today as I always enjoy the little banter young JD and I have. Of course, I know his
name is not really JD; I just call him that because he does remind me a little of the legendary actor of the
same initial.
And, of course, I love the way the young man turns bright red whenever I call him JD.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
Brad’s voice brings me back to reality.
I hope I’m not blushing now. There’s no way I’m going to confess I was just thinking about the
young delivery boy. LOL.
Ah, hell, now I’m thinking in acronyms.
“Work.” I’m not a very good liar, so being vague is the best way to deal with it. I was sort of
thinking about work.
“That bad?”
For a second, I think I can hear real concern in Brad’s voice. I revel in it.
I can’t recall the last time someone was concerned for me.
I weigh up my answer. Should I be truthful? Some people believe you have to maintain a
professional relationship with the actors, and therefore you never confide too much in them…or anybody
for that matter.
“Sort of.” I’m still not sure how much I should tell him.
I wonder what the reason was for his appearance today with my lunch. And what exactly has he
done to persuade JD not to come up and deliver lunch himself?
“It’s a tough gig, isn’t it?” Brad prods. “Writing, I mean. It must be hard.”
I sigh. I so want to talk about this with someone.
To stall, I busy myself with my lunch. I spread out the serviette before I put the tub of salad on top
of it. Occasionally, I glance at Brad, who has one leg crossed over the other.
Briefly, I imagine running my hands over the muscles in his chest before letting them wander down
his back.
I must really stop my imagination from running away with me. I’m at work, not at home.
“Can be,” I eventually answer and take a forkful of quinoa salad.
“I reckon it must even be harder if you are woman.” There’s a deliberate pause, and I feel my
heartbeat quicken as I wait for what else he’s going to say. “Particularly such an attractive and sexy
woman as you.”
Despite my best effort, I’m sure my cheeks are a little red.
“I bet you say that to all the women,” I say before I can stop myself.
What is wrong with me? Where’s my word filter? I never say these things.
Brad chuckles. The sound of his warm, hearty laughter provokes a longing in me I haven’t felt in a
long time. If I’m honest, I can’t ever recall feeling something quite like this before.
I study his rugged features. He really is a spunk. And he’s got muscles too.
“I’m not shallow,” he replies and winks at me. “I mean what I say. Nothing wrong telling a woman
she’s beautiful when she is.” He pauses, and my breathing has increased a little as if I’ve jogged up and
down the hallway.
“And,” he continues, now leaning a little toward me, “nothing wrong in telling her she’s sexy, if she
is. And you are sexy.”
Now my nerve endings are tingling in anticipation. It takes all my self-control not to go and rip his
shirt open and start kissing his chest.
Stay cool, I think to myself and smile. I nod in a graceful thank-you gesture, like one of those old-
fashioned movie divas. At least I hope that’s what my gesture looks like.
I take another forkful of my salad.
“It’s a good show, you know.” Brad is leaning back in the director’s chair again, with his right leg
now at an angle over his left one. He’s the picture of relaxation.
If I were an artist, I would paint him in this posture, naked.
I try not to smile from ear to ear. Brad has paid me another compliment. None of the other ac-tors
have done so.
“Do you really think so?” I search in his eyes for mocking, but can’t see it.
“I do, Kayla. I’ve worked on a few shows, but I’m really enjoying this one. I enjoy working with
you.”
I swallow the lump that has suddenly appeared in the back of my throat. He could just be saying this
because he’s worried about being killed off.
“And I’m not just saying it to get you to keep me in the show.” He winks at me as if he can read my
mind. “Although, you know, I would do what it takes…” He leaves the sentence unfinished, a delicious
grin on his lips.
It’s my turn to laugh. He really is a very good actor, or a real charmer.
“I have to say, so far I have enjoyed writing the episodes.” I decide to open up just a little.
Brad’s brow furrows just a little.
“So far? Something changed?”
Not only is he good-looking, charming, and entertaining, he is also perceptive.
 My left hand brushes through my hair as I sigh.
“I suppose every job has its good and bad days, and today’s a bit of a bad day.”
His left eyebrow rises just a little, but he says nothing.
“I love writing. I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and I think this could be my big break into the
screen world.” I pause and take a sip of my coffee.
Boy, this is good. “And I don’t want to stuff it up,” I add.
When I finish my little unburdening, it’s as if a weight has been lifted off my chest.
“Who says you’re going to stuff up?” Brad sounds genuinely concerned.
I decided he’s not acting. He sounds too interested.
“No one yet. But this killing off scene has me worried. It doesn’t feel right, and I see a different
potential in the show. I think it needs to go in a different direction.”
Brad studies me. As his eyes slowly travel over my face and down to my chest, I feel as if he is
undressing me, slowly, deliberately.
Part of me is tempted to check if my blouse is still buttoned up to the second button from the top, but
I resist the urge. It feels incredibly sensual.
Desire sweeps through me like a wildfire.
His eyes find mine again. He smiles at me.
“I think you’re a good writer.” He holds up his hand. “No, I think you’re a great writer. And I think
you are good for the show. You have written fantastic stuff for all of us. You even managed to write lines
Ian couldn’t stuff up.”
At the mention of Ian, Ed’s words come back:” Ian’s off-limits.”
I toy with the idea of sharing Ed’s words with Brad, but I decide against it. I barely know him, or
his intentions. Although I wouldn’t mind betting his intentions right now were only on one thing.
And strangely, I don’t mind.
“Thanks,” I mumble, not sure what else to say.
“Kayla.” His voice sounds a little more serious. “Whatever happens, this show won’t ruin you.
Even if you don’t agree with what is being asked of you, I know you’ll turn it into something great. That’s
what great writers do—they turn ordinary stuff into extraordinary things.”
For a few minutes—okay, maybe seconds—we stare at each other. I lick my lips, thinking that if he
was to rip my clothes off here and now, I wouldn’t stop him.
“Of course, I still don’t think you should kill me.” Brad breaks the silence first. “Kill Ian,” he
quips, and I cannot help but laugh.
A glance at the time signals I must get back to work. I pack my half-finished lunch back into the bag.
Leftovers for dinner.
Brad watches my every move. I like his eyes. They are intense, sincere, and truthful.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I reply and make sure my voice has a playful undertone.
 “I’m just kidding, Kayla.” Brad is getting ready to leave. “I didn’t come here to beg. I just wanted
to enjoy the company of the talented, gorgeous, and sexy head writer of the show.”
I smile. He makes his way to leave my office.
“Pity you didn’t get to eat anything,” I say, and my eyes are downcast as I speak, emphasis on eat.
It takes Brad less than two steps before he has his hands on my hips, and his lips are searching for
mine.
Our mouths melt together. He pushes his tongue past my lips and searches for mine. I respond and
lean into him.
His hands travel to my back. They briefly rest just above the dimples I have there, and they go for
my ass.
What am I doing?
 Brad


It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
But it’s not like I could help myself. The sound of her voice, the shape of her lips, the scent of her
perfume…everything in her reeled me in, and I had no other option but to go right ahead and kiss her.
She’s standing up now, and as our kiss grows fiercer, our tongues dancing with each other, I place
my hands on her hips and force her to spin around. I push her against the wall, her back turned to me, and
then I slowly begin to kiss her neck, caressing her breasts over the fabric of her dress.
I can feel her breathing growing harder and harder; her eyes closed, her face tilted sideways to-
ward my lips, and her hands on the wall. The taste of her body makes my brain start to overheat and, at the
same time, my cock becomes as hard as concrete.
Looking at her in such a vulnerable position, I just want to lift her dress, push her underwear to the
side and slide my cock deep into her pussy in a single thrust.
I grab her by the hair, making her turn around to me. I want to fuck her so hard, I can´t think of
anything else.
Pushing her back against the wall once more, I rest my hands over her breasts and squeeze them
hard; as I do it, she takes her own hands to her shoulders and pushes the front of her dress down, the outer
edges of her bra revealing themselves to me.
Opening my right hand, I hook my fingers on the cup of her bra and tug on it softly. The moment her
rosy nipple jumps into sight, I feel a rush of boiling blood making its way down to my cock and I simply
lose it. Grabbing her half-naked breast, I lean in and wrap my lips around her hard nipple, sucking it into
my mouth and running circles around her rosy tip with my tongue.
Then I take her by the hand, leading her to her desk.
I force her to sit down, pushing away all the stuff lying there. Slowly, leaning toward her, I took my
fingers on the hemline of her dress. I raise the fabric, counting my breaths as I bare her skin.
The moment I see the fabric of her thong, I simply lose it – I dive forward, pressing my mouth
against her wetness, and I suck on it hard. Then, before I know what the fuck I’m doing, I bite at the
drenched fabric of her thong and start taking it off her.
Exposing her wet pussy, I press my fingers over her clit, and she opens her mouth and moans. Oh,
and she´s moaning hard. I’m not simply rubbing her, or tapping my finger against her clit – no, I know
what I’m doing and what kind of reaction I want out of her. I rub the tip of my finger around her clit and
then press it from above, indirectly.
Letting go of her clit, I go down to her inner lips, gently parting them with my finger as I go up and
down her pussy. I let my finger go inside her just an inch, and her whole body tenses up, waiting for me to
go all in.
 I take my time, though, slowly letting my finger in as if I have all the time in the world. I push it in
gently, curling it upwards and rubbing her from the inside.
I then slide another finger inside her pussy and increase the pace, sliding in and out her faster and
harder. She starts to scream while, at the same time, I go back to her clit with the other hand, rubbing it
with my fingers. She raises her thighs from the desk and starts thrusting against my hands, doing it as if her
life depended on it.
“Don´t stop!” She screams, arching her back. Her body tenses up, and I can feel her inner walls
tightening around my fingers; I can feel pleasure coursing through her veins, and next thing I know her
moans are filling the entire office.
Still with her legs shaking, she slides off the desk and leans into me, her arms over my shoulders as
her lips approach mine. She kisses me furiously, her tongue exploring my whole mouth. Then, she moves
her lips to my ear, biting it gently.
“My turn now…” she whispers with a grin on her face.
Kayla’s hands leave my shoulders and go straight to my belt. Grabbing at it harshly, she un-buckles
it, pulling it from the loops in my pants. She continues, undoing the top button of my pants. Then, she grabs
the zipper, pulling it all the way down with one single movement.
Her lustful eyes go straight to my crotch, my cock straining against the fabric of my boxer briefs,
waiting to spring free.
“You want this, don’t you?” She breathes out, slowly going down to her knees, her eyes never
leaving mine. Her hands go down the side of my body, and she locks her fingers on my boxer briefs before
tugging them down.
My cock jumps up to salute her, and she moves fast – she curls the fingers of her right hand around
my shaft, and then she leans in and takes me inside her mouth.
She pushes herself down until her lips touch the skin at the base of my cock, its tip already pressed
against the back of her throat, and she holds it there. She keeps my whole cock inside of her mouth until
she can no longer do it. Only then does she roll her lips back up my shaft, slowly moving them until
they’re wrapped tight around the tip of my cock.
She goes all the way back up, and her lips smack together as my cock pops out of her mouth. Then,
she tilts her head sideways and, with her lips pressed against the side of my shaft, she brushes them down
until her mouth is on my balls. She grabs my boxers again and, tugging hard on them, she sends them down
with my pants to my ankles.
“Keep going…” I groan, tangling my fingers on her hair.
Kayla looks up at me and, as she does it, she parts her lips and laps at one of my balls with her
tongue. She moves to the next one, repeating her motions.
Pulling back, she opens her mouth as wide as she can and, cupping both my balls with one hand,
and sucks them both inside of her mouth. She goes back to the tip of my cock then, her lips and tongue
tracing an upward line over my shaft, and she fits my cock in her mouth once more.
Every single cell in my body demanding to fuck her, I make her stop. I tangle my fingers on her hair
and push her back until all of my cock pops out of her mouth.
She grins back, and I simply look down at her.
She goes towards the wall, resting both her hands there, and spreads her legs wide as she stands. I
come up behind her, my hand climbing up her legs and under her dress. I grab her ass, my fingertips going
over her crack while I slide one finger in to rub her soaked pussy again.
Raising the hem of her dress, I press my body into her, my cock fitting perfectly between her ass
cheeks. She grinds against me as if tomorrow will never come, making sure that my cock is as hard as it
could possibly be.
I place one hand on her breasts, furiously grabbing at them and pinching her nipples between my
fingers. The other hand goes around her waist, cupping her pussy, one finger placed over her clit.
I keep pressing my cock against her ass, the finger I have on her clit drawing a cascade of moans
out of her. In a blinding motion I part her inner lips with my fingers and push my cock down and into her
pussy. She juts her ass back at me at the same time, allowing my cock to slide inside her straining walls as
it goes.
“Oh god…” she moans.
With my right hand I slap her ass and, all gentleness thrown to the curb, I start pounding her without
a hint of mercy.
 Kayla


Brad just keeps on thrusting, fucking me hard. His movements are so fast and vicious that I’m not
sure if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow.
I tilt my head to the side, trying to look back at him over my shoulder.
“Harder,” I whisper between moans.
Obeying immediately, he starts to thrust with such a fury that I don´t know if my legs will keep me
up much longer. At least my pussy is resilient.
God, he’s pounding me so hard that beads of sweat start sliding down my forehead. I open my
mouth to scream, but all that leaves my lips is a faint croak of ecstasy; I come like that, barely able to utter
a sound.
My pussy tightening around his cock, I come hard, all of me trembling as if I had a fever. And I
might just as well have one, since I’m burning up. I feel my chin quivering as I try to breathe, all my
muscles twitching and spasming as pure delight rages through me, flooding both my body and mind.
It’s embarrassing to admit, but I never came like this before. I’ve had orgasms before, yes, but what
I’m experiencing goes far beyond that. A simple orgasm pales in comparison to what I’m feeling right
now.
“Tired already?” he asks me, a wild grin dancing on his lips, softly kissing my neck as he pulls out.
“More,” I smile, suddenly feeling so spent that smiling is the only thing I can do.
Oh, yes, I want more…so much more. And I want it now.
I can barely believe that Brad’s in here with me…and more than that, he’s having me. Oh God, he’s
doing so much more than just having me. He’s fucking me like no one ever did before, and I can´t fight
against it!
I know I probably shouldn’t be doing this, but the desire that crawls under my skin is stronger than
anything I’ve ever felt in my whole life. I know this is probably a mistake, but I can’t run away from
what’s happening. I just can’t help myself.
“This is insane,” I tell him as I slide both of my hands down the side of my body, grabbing my
dress. Swaying my hips from side to side, I send it down to my legs and then kick it up in the air; the
fabric rises up, and then traces an upward arch before landing on the floor.
“Yeah, this is insane…and I love it,” he replies and, following my lead, he grabs his own shirt,
pushing it down his arms and throwing it to the floor; it falls right on top of my dress.
He’s totally naked now, and he looks even better than everything I’ve imagined. Sure, I’ve seen
some shirtless pictures of him before (and there was a scene during the first season where he was naked
from the waist up), but none of that compares to being this close to him. There are ropes of muscle hiding
under his taut skin, and everything in him seems to have been carved out by a master’s chisel.
 Approaching him, I slowly press my hands against his abs, feeling their grooves and ridges. I kiss
his stomach gently, my tongue caressing the outline of marble wall. I look up and there he is, smiling with
his eyes closed, savoring my lips on his skin.
And then, going on my knees, I let my hands fall on his cock once again.
I’ve never sucked a man after having his cock inside me, but I guess this is a good time as any.
I don´t waste any time – parting my lips, I tilt my head sideways and lean into him. I rest my open
mouth against his shaft and start slowly sucking his tip, closing my eyes as the raw manly scent of his cock
mixed with the taste of my pussy climbs up to my brain.
I kiss the tip, parting my lips and licking it with slow deliberate circles. He moans as my lips
engulf his tip, his warmth spreading to my lips.
My mouth goes forward in slow motion, my lips sliding down his shaft. I feel his hips pressing
forward and, when his whole cock is in my mouth, his hands touch my head, grabbing it with firmness.
My tongue draws circles around his cock, right before I bob my head a couple times, his hardness
dancing inside of my mouth, alive with raw desire.
I pull back from his cock then and, with cautious fingers, I start stroking his member.
“Come here,” he commands me.
Pulling me up, he lays me down on the top of the desk once more and climbs on top of me, hunched
like a wild animal preparing to devour his prey. His chest touches mine, my breasts brushing against his
soft cool skin.
I lace my legs around his waist, placing my right arm over his shoulder, my mind screaming at him
to make me his, to subdue and dominate me. He kisses me again, his waist on mine.
I rest my trembling fingers against his chest and run them down his abs, each ridge and valley
making my heart feel tighter inside my chest. I let my hand go lower, and only stop when I find the root of
his cock; I curl my fingers around it and, pulling him in with the leg I have around his waist, I force the tip
of his cock between my pussy lips.
I bite on my lower lip as I feel the tip of his cock against my drenched folds, but that’s everything I
have the time to do; with one quick thrust he’s in me, his thick mast pushing its way past my inner lips and
straining against my inner walls.
“So good,” I moan, pressing my forehead against his and smiling.
“It’s more than just good,” he says, rocking his hips and sliding his cock in and out of me.
My eyes are shut, and I’m clenching my teeth again. I wasn’t prepared for this. It’s simply too…
good.
And it keeps getting better: as he thrusts, he keeps pressuring my clit, circling it steadily with his
two fingers. With his free hand, he grabs my left breast and squeezes it, pinching my hard nipple between
his thumb and index finger. I’m panting, my body swaying against his in waves.
I feel his whole body tensing up, but I don´t want him to come yet. And I can tell Brad doesn’t want
to come as well…I mean, there´s still so much more to do.
He pulls out his cock and, with a kiss, he puts me down from the desk, my legs feeling weak the
moment my feet touch the floor. But he gives me no time to catch my breath. His hands on my waist, he
makes me turn around and face the wall once again.
I place my hands against the cold concrete at shoulder height, jutting my ass back toward him. A cry
of pleasure leaves my lips as he smacks my ass hard with the back of his hand. Then he does it again. And
again.
He does it until I’m gritting my teeth, the pain running through my nerves toward my brain – except
the moment it gets there it has already been distilled into pleasure.
I let my head down, my hair falling over my shoulders and brushing against my breasts. His hands
are now over my buttocks, squeezing them lightly. After the rough treatment, the gentle touch of his fingers
feel like a blessing. The more his fingers caress me, the more they move toward the valley between my
ass cheeks.
The moment he’s close enough, he takes his hands out of me and, with just one finger, he traces the
line between my cheeks all the way to between my thighs. Then, turning his hand around, he keeps going. I
swallow hard when his fingers go over my pussy lips, gently parting my folds.
He slides a finger inside me and I moan, my throat producing a sharp sound of pleasure. He starts
fingering me then, his finger going in and out of my pussy fast.
Again and again, over and over.
Then, I feel two fingers inside me in a continuous movement, a game of in and out, and I struggle
hard against the urge to moan as loud as I can.
 Brad


She’s pressing her legs together and gritting her teeth, locking my hand into place as I finger her
towards insanity. I start biting at her neck and, at the same time, I pinch her nipples with my free hand.
“It feels good,” she purrs, and I let go of her nipples. I spread her legs farther while I force her to
bend over, her hands firmly pressed on the wall as she juts her ass back at me.
I breathe into her ear, grabbing my cock and pushing it down. I only let go of it when I feel it right
on the gap between her thighs, her pussy lips brushing against my shaft. She goes on tiptoes, and all I have
to do now is thrust…which, of course, is exactly what I do.
I go as hard as I can right from the beginning, grabbing her by the waist as I ram my cock inside her
pussy. My thighs slap her ass cheeks feverishly, and the sound of flesh on flesh fills the entire office.
With the fingers of one hand buried in her ass cheeks, I slide my free hand around her waist and I
stretch my fingers wide so that one of them is right above her clit, pressing and rubbing there as I keep on
going at her mercilessly.
She starts pushing out her ass faster at me, a relentless rhythm I match as I thrust at her. Each time
we do it, my cock goes deep inside her, forcing a throaty moan to escape her lips.
Holding her against the wall, I thrust my hips harder and harder, ramming my cock into her in such a
way that I can’t help but wonder if her pussy can take such a beating. Judging by the way she’s moaning,
I’d say it can. She screams once more as her pussy tightens around my cock, so hard it feels like a vice,
and I continue thrusting as she comes.
She presses her head against the wall, moaning hard through her gritted teeth, and I hold my
position as a violent orgasm ravages her delicate body.
Fuck, I knew that she was beautiful, but I had no idea she was this good when it came to sex. Oh,
scratch that – she’s not good, she’s a fucking Goddess.
“Get over here,” I growl, sliding my cock out of her pussy. Before I even know what the fuck I’m
doing, I grab her hand and pull her into me.
I go down to the floor, making her come after me. She comes willingly and, realizing what I want,
she places her knees on either side of my head while I lay down on the floor. Lowering herself over my
face, she rests her wet pussy right on my mouth, and I take my hands to her ass cheeks and push her further
down.
With her pussy on my mouth, I react by instinct and open my mouth wide, using both my lips and
tongue to ravage her wetness.
Swaying her hips rhythmically, she rubs her pussy against my face, slowly losing control. I hook my
fingers on her hips, forcing her to press her pussy against my mouth, and I use my tongue to ravage her
insides at the same time. I flick it up and down the length of her pussy, always making sure to take care of
her clit, and she rewards me with a string of generous moans.
Then, pulling out of my mouth, she slowly slides her body down mine, her lips tracing a downward
line over my chest.
Guiding my shaft right where she needs it to be, she eases herself down, allowing my cock to
pierce her. The moment she feels all of my inches buried deep inside her, she starts moving her hips back
and forth in a flowing motion. She rides me fast and hard, her eyes closed as moans just tumble out of her
lips.
I grab her ass cheeks and feel the movement of her body, placing my fingertips over her ass crack. I
can notice her whole body shivering, so I spread her cheeks wider and start caressing the gap between
them, moving one finger up and down.
As she jumps up and down and back and forth, the movement of her body grows even more violent.
She´s truly driving me crazy as she rides me hard, straight into oblivion, finishing off with one sudden
thrust.
I hold my position and the whole universe seems to explode inside her body, such is the heat
coming from her skin. I can almost picture the fireworks going off behind her closed eyelids.
“Oh my God! That felt so good,” she says between moans, resting her head down on my chest.
“I’m not done with you yet,” I grin and, before she knows it, I push her to the floor and make her
roll to the side. Pushing her knees apart, I settle my body between her legs.
She looks in anticipation as I edge closer to her, the thick head of my cock reaching for her inner
lips. She shudders as I press it there, rubbing my tip along her pussy and up to her clit. I then slap my shaft
against her wet pussy twice and she almost bangs her head against the floor in madness.
She opens her legs wide and lets out a scream. I enter her fast, my shaft sliding deep inside of her,
her tightness sending shards of absolute rapture from her pussy to my mind.
I thrust at her like that for God knows how long, my body pressing down on hers. She laces her legs
behind my back, but she’s not locking me into place; she allows me the freedom to move in and out at will
– which I do.
I keep on thrusting hard and violently for a long time, this moment so delicious that I can imagine
myself spending the whole day like this, lying on the floor while I ravage her.
I continue until all strength leaves her body, her legs sliding down from my back to the floor as all
muscles in her body become taut. I pound her even strongly then, feeling her weakness. Her pussy tightens
around my cock and she screams out loud as she comes once more.
Closing my eyes, I continue fucking her with abandonment, beads of sweat dripping down from my
face and falling onto the floor. My muscles seem to be burning with the effort, but I don’t stop; instead, I
go even faster, pushing through the pain and exhaustion.
“I’m going to come,” I groan, and that unleashes something inside her. Next thing I know, my cock is
already out of her pussy and she’s rolling to the side and going to her knees. Grabbing my thick member,
she starts stroking me hard.
The moment she feels slight spasms running through the length of my shaft, she doesn’t hesitate. She
just opens her mouth and dives in, taking my whole cock into her mouth.
My whole body tenses up and a fraction of a second later I explode, my milky seed spilling into her
mouth like a raging river. Just one burst and her mouth is already brimming with cum.
Reacting on instinct alone, she takes her mouth out of my cock, allowing me to gush my seed all
over her naked body. She keeps on moving her hands over my cock as I come; heavy beads drip down her
face, running over the curves of her lips, as more strands splatter against her breasts.
She only opens up her eyes when my cock stops throbbing against her fingers.
Looking down, she takes her hands off my shaft and smiles, seeing her own skin glistening, a thin
layer of creamy semen on her naked body.
“Oh, Jesus,” she sighs, sitting up on the floor and leaning back against the wall. “What the hell has
just happened?”
“I have no fucking idea,” I breathe out, joining her against the wall and throwing my head back. I
close my eyes, listening to the sound of my own heartbeat, and I can’t help but smile. I just came in here to
deliver lunch and try to save my character, and I ended up getting the best sex of my life.
Not bad for a Friday.
“You gotta go…” She says out of the blue, and I look at her and blink twice before I realize what
she’s saying. “No one can find out about this, or else we’ll be in trouble.”
“We’ll be in trouble, right,” I mutter, suddenly realizing that the reason I came into her office was
because I wanted to stay out of trouble.
Oh, fuck it, this was worth it.
We get dressed in a hurry, keeping the silence as we do it, and then I make my way toward the door.
I lay my hand on the handle, but then I turn around and meet her gaze.
“See you for lunch next Monday,” I tell her, and then I just leave, my I-just-had-the-best-sex-of-my-
life smile on my face.
 Kayla


I put my mop and bucket back under the laundry sink. My floors are so clean I can see my own
reflection, and I know I could eat off them.
It’s been a while since I’ve scrubbed my apartment from top to bottom two days in a row. Usually I
just get the cleaning lady to come during the week so I don’t have to be bothered with housework on my
days off.
But this weekend was different. Sex the other day with Brad has left me a little confused. My cage
has been rattled.
With the cleaning equipment out of the way, I go back into the living room and put some music on.
My eyes travel along the rows of books in the bookshelves, but nothing leaps out to say “read me.”
I ponder what else I can do to distract myself. Mentally, I tick off the housework already done:
dusting done, washing done, ironing done, floors done, and windows cleaned.
I walk to the stereo. Alright, let’s focus on the music then. Music is soothing; it calms the mind.
Should I have pushed Brad away when he started kissing me? Hard call. I’m only human after all,
and it’s been a while since I’ve had sex.
Well, in fact, I’ve never had sex the way Brad and I went at it the other day.
Will it get out? Will the rumor mills go wild and make my life a writer’s hell? And what would Ed
make of it?
Sick of being confined to my four walls, I decide to head out. Fresh air, exercise, and a change of
scenery are what I need.
I decide to drive to the canyon for a run. It’s Saturday, and I will go for a run around this time.
Brad has rattled my cage, sure, but maybe it’s best I keep to my routine. It will clear my
headspace…there’s nothing better for it than being out in rugged, beautiful terrain. The view from the
canyon always leaves me feeling a little better.
It somehow puts into place how insignificant we humans really are. We are these tiny beings in a
huge unknown space—the pimple on the ass of the universe.
With my running shoes on, my hair tied back, and water bottle in hand, I get into my car. Once at the
canyon, I park and do a few stretches. The last thing I want to do is pull a muscle or strain a ligament.
To my relief, there aren’t that many people up here today. It is a very popular walk, and sometimes
it can be difficult to park your car.
I set off. My mind mulls over the Brad dilemma. I’m a firm believer that it’s no good to be involved
with a work colleague, and there’s no arguing Brad is a work colleague.
I’m the head writer and he’s one of the main stars on the show. It could get complicated.
But then, of course, I could be overreacting. I’ve made no plans to see Brad again, nor has he
suggested another date. Of course, sex isn’t really a date anyway.
Kayla, when did your life become so complicated? I thought to myself.
I round a corner in the path and collide with something soft. It’s a human being. It’s a man.
A man I know.
For a second or so, I hold my breath. What’s he doing here?
“Hey, Scott,” I say and try to bring my breathing under control. Scott is holding me by my
shoulders. “Are you stalking me?” I’m joking, of course, although I always regret saying it.
What if he thinks I’m a weirdo?
“I am,” Scott replies, and the look in his eyes tell me he isn’t entirely lying. Okay, what’s going on
in here?
His touch is messing with my brain, desire wells up in me, and nerve cells start to tingle.
“You are?” I repeat to try and hide my feelings. My heart rate is increasing even though I’m
standing still. I hope my yearning for his touch is not too obvious.
“I can’t lie.” Scott finally lets me go and takes a step backward. He’s grinning at me.
I try to say something witty back, but I draw a blank. Instead, my gaze feasts on his six-pack and
bulky shoulders. Weightlifting is definitely part of Scott’s workout.
His thigh muscles are bulging, and I know I’m staring at his crotch. I can’t help but wonder…how
big is his cock?
“I know why you’re stalking me,” I say, eventually forcing myself to look into his face.
“You do?” Scott lifts his hands in mock innocence.
“You’ve heard one of you is going to get killed off. And you want to know if its you.”
Scott takes a little bow.
“You’re correct, dear madam. But only partly correct.”
I raise my eyebrows and say, “Really? And what would the other reason be?”
Before he answers, I can guess what is coming. His eyes speak volumes. I’m wearing my cropped
running top and knee-length tights.
His gaze has practically undressed me already. And yet I want to hear it from him.
“I’ve come out here today to go for a run with the gorgeous head writer of our show. I want to get to
know you.” The grin of the cat that caught the mouse accompanies his words.
I laugh. Luckily, he can’t see under my clothes. Between my legs, a little wetness appears already.
It catches me by surprise; am I really reacting like this around this hunk of a man several days after Brad
has fucked me?
Can it be something in the water? Has someone tampered with it and added some form of
aphrodisiac? I vow to buy bottled water for the next few weeks, knowing my theory is totally baseless
and borders on silliness.
I slap him on the shoulder. The tips of my fingers burn with desire as my flesh touches his.
 “With only one purpose in mind, I bet.”
Scott’s grin widens. “Is it that obvious? Or are you able to read me better because you are a
writer?”
Instead of a reply, I decide it is time to issue a challenge.
“Well, dear prince,” I start and turn back toward the way I had been going. “If you want to find out
who is going to be killed at my hand, you better race me to the top.”
“What’s the prize?”
I turn back to him one more time.
“We’ll race to the end of the trail. If you win, I’ll tell you who gets killed.”
“And if you win?”
Instead of an answer, I turn and start to run.
My feet fly across the uneven ground. I keep my eyes peeled forward. I don’t want to collide with
anyone else.
Usually I take time to admire the magnificent view from up the valley and the homes below, but not
now. There’s purpose to my running.
I’m driven to impress. It’s not that I don’t want Scott to win. Truth is, I still have no idea who is
getting killed and who stays.
I don’t like the idea, and so I haven’t written the scene yet.
No, the run has taken on a different purpose all together. The minute I had laid eyes on Scott in
skimpy shorts—shorts so short that not much is left to the imagination and a wide-cut singlet—an almost
animalistic desire awakened deep within me.
I want to impress Scott. I want him behind me and feasting on my backside.
In my imagination, I picture myself pulling his shorts off and freeing his throbbing cock.
After another bend in the track, I have to slow down. A stitch in the right side of my abdomen is
making it difficult to keep at the pace I had started.
“Keeping up, snail?” I call over my shoulder to Scott, who’s now a little distance behind me.
“Insult me all you want. We are not there yet.”
I keep running. I’m enjoying this.
“Hope you’re enjoying the view back there.” I can’t resist the urge to needle him a little.
“More than you can imagine” comes the instant reply.
Scott’s gaining on me.
Part of me tries to pick up my pace again, but another wants to keep the distance between us small
so I can keep teasing him.
I want him to take the bait.
With the end of the trail in sight, I need to plan my next move. If I win, what prize will I claim?
My nerve endings are almost screaming at me to ask for him, all of him inside me, but I wonder
how I should play the game.
Here I have been worried about my antics with Brad, and to solve that problem, I’m now
considering throwing myself at my other main star in the show.
Talk about from fire into the frying pan.
Of course, I could let Scott win, and then I wouldn’t have to ask for any prize. But where would the
fun be in that?
I turn back to see Scott steadily closing the gap between us. His expression is full of lust.
“Come and get it,” I taunt.
 Scott


Running usually relaxes me, but this run is anything but. My mind is racing with a thousand images
flashing through my head.
I’ve only ever seen Kayla behind a desk, in the writer’s room, or at a table read, and she always
has her head down, pecking away at her keyboard. Until now, I never looked at her closely, or thought
about her as a woman.
Maybe she’s a decent person, who knows? It’s damn hard to trust anyone in Hollywood. This
industry is callous, and she probably doesn’t give two shits about my character or my career. If she
decides to kill me off…well…I don’t know what I’m going to do. My mortgage isn’t going to pay for
itself. A multi-million-dollar mansion doesn’t come cheap after all.
If I didn’t need the money so badly, I would give them all the finger and go back to indie films. But
let’s face it, there are major perks to being on a hit TV show, and The Kings is one bad-ass series. I gotta
admit I like raking in the big bucks every week, and the star treatment, the separate trailer, the personal
assistant, and all the swag.
If I’m being honest, low budget movies are ghetto in every way, and besides, the food fucking
sucks.
I’m no prima donna, I just like the creature comforts I have right now. I think I've earned them, and
everyone deserves a few pleasures in their life. Right?
There are some actors who think it’s annoying to be constantly hounded by groupies, the paparazzi,
and anyone else looking to get into their personal lives.
But, fuck it. My mother always said, you gotta take the good with the bad. So, if the bad means
going through gyrations with the public in order to enjoy some luxuries, then, I’m all in. Because
continually looking for my next gig is not what I consider a good time.
So, this Kayla person needs to come through. Big time.
She wants to race me for the answers, fine. I’ll play along with her game. But it’s working my last
nerve, because I’m forcing myself to be nice, and nice isn’t usually how I play.
I just want to know – Is my character dead? Or am I staying on the show?
I slow my pace so I can run next to her. I want her to know I’m pissed that I have to tackle this
dumb-ass trail just to find out what she has in mind for me.
I turn to say something, but I hold myself back from releasing the shit storm inside of me. Not the
reaction I expected from myself.
She gives me a sideways glance and suddenly I don’t feel angry.
Hmm…what am I feeling for this woman who has the power to delete me from the script with one
keystroke?
 Damn.
Seeing her here in the great outdoors with her cute little running shorts, and I do mean little, as in
petite, as in barely there, makes me want to see more of her.
Scott, get fucking straight. You’re here for one reason only, to discover your fate.
I hate when I talk to myself. This woman is somehow getting to me. Not what I want to happen. Not
at all. I’m a tough guy. Not a pussy.
“Tougher than you thought,” Kayla teases.
It takes me a minute to understand she's talking about the trail.
“Ha,” I force a laugh. “Ain’t nothin’ tough about it. Just enjoying the view.”
I’m running, but I’m not trying to beat her. I just let her set the pace and continue to take glances in
her direction. Damn, she’s pulling me in.
Stealing glances at her face, I can see that without any make up, this woman’s skin looks awfully
touchable. And her naturally pink lips are just begging to be kissed.
I know Kayla’s not gonna tell me what I want to know until we're done playing this little cat- and-
mouse game. Okay, fine. As long as I have to play by her rules, who says I can’t have fun? Time to shift
gears, let her get ahead of me. I might as well enjoy the view while I’m out here working up a sweat.
I slow it way down, and rub at my side. I make her think I’ve got a pain and let her pass me. What
the fuck – I’ll pull out a sprint in the last eighth of a mile and get what I came for. In the meantime, I’m
going to get a look at her from behind.
I admire beautiful women, and I’d have to be crazy not to see that Kayla is one piece of
deliciousness wrapped up in a neat package. Her tight buns, long lean legs, and slim waistline are much
better scenery than these rolling hills. So, yeah, it’s time for her to take the lead. I want to just watch for a
bit.
“Better look out, you’re going to fall behind,” she says in a breathy voice as she passes.
“Yeah, that’s the plan,” I say under my breath.
I hold back and I smile, because I’m finally relaxing.
But Kayla keeps turning to see how far ahead she’s getting, and I’m careful to keep the distance just
enough to look and her hips in motion, but not too much that I can’t take her in the end.
As we move along the trail, I know there’s no way to go any slower without her knowing I’m
copping a look. I gotta make this look natural, so I bend down to re-tie my shoelaces.
“Hey, you okay?” Kayla asks, turning and jogging in place.
I keep tying, and look up. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead, I’ll catch up.”
Kayla doesn’t stop running in place. A slow smile spreads across her face and I’m captivated by
that mouth of hers. Kissable. Supremely kissable.
“Like hell you will,” she says.
“Huh?” I seem to have missed a beat in the conversation. It’s those damn lips.
 “Catch up with me,” she says laughing, and then takes off up the trail.
I get up and follow in hot (and I do mean hot) pursuit.
We're getting close to the finish line now and I want some answers, so I have to ignore that bulge
pressing against my jock strap and put some steel in my stride.
After a few more seconds I pass her and give her a wide grin. As I round a bend in the trail, I can
almost see the finish.
“I hope you’re ready to spill the beans,” I call over my shoulder.
“Ha! You’ve won nothing yet,” she yells back.
Then without realizing, I see Kayla pass me on the inside of the turn. I literally do a double take,
because I didn’t think she had it in her. But clearly, she’s digging deep for that last kick.
As if running ahead of me isn’t enough, she turns completely around, taunting me.
“You got lead in your shoes, pretty boy.”
“Seriously, that's the best line you can come up with?” I’m panting a bit, but I keep smiling.
She’s running backwards and she keeps smiling.
“Come on, pretty boy, show me what you got,” she says in her best taunting voice.
I’m about ready to surprise the shit out of her, ‘cause I still have plenty of juice left, and I’m not
about to save one ounce. I’m going to pass her so hard and so fast, she’s gonna scream.
“Oh, shit!” Kayla cries, flying backwards. I can see she's tripped on a tree root and she's now
airborne.
She lands flat on her ass and the look on her face is one of total agony.
 Kayla


I cannot believe my own stupidity. As soon as I look forward again I know I’m going to fall. The
tree root seems to have come out of nowhere.
In slow motion I trip, my arms flail trying to stop the inevitable, all to no avail.
The ground seems to be coming toward me at incredible speed. Reality is I am falling face forward
onto the gravel path. Before impact I close my eyes. This is going to hurt.
Sprawled on the path I lie there. What would the chances be of the earth opening up underneath me
to swallow me up so I can disappear forever? Very slim, I know. Non-existent actually, my brain reminds
me and I do a mental head to toe check on possible injuries.
Nothing broken from what I can gauge.
“You ok?”
I wish the ground would swallow me up and spit me out on the other side of the earth.
“Fine,” I mumble and get on to my hands and knees. I’m not fine, not really. Everything hurts and I
can see blood from grazes on my knees, elbows and palms of my hands.
Tears threaten but I bite them back. I’m not going to cry.
“Here let me help you up.”
I feel Scott’s strong grip pull me onto my feet.
As soon as I put weight on my right foot, pain shoots through it.
“Ouch,” I wince and shift awkwardly onto my other foot.
“What’s the matter?” Scott peers at me.
“Ankle,” I say and point to my right foot. Ouch. My right ankle’s throbbing. The grazes hurt, and my
pride, well it had been trampled on by a heard of elephants.
“Here,” Scott put his left arm around me to support my weight. “Let’s get you over onto that log so
we can take a look at your ankle.”
The minute my body touches his, all my pain evaporates and is replaced with desire. I close my
eyes and enjoy the feel of his muscles.
With incredible tenderness, he lowers me onto a fallen tree. Then he gently undoes the laces of my
shoe.
“Is this ok?”
I nod. His touch is pushing all my sex buttons. If we weren’t out in the open I don’t know what I
would do. Maybe rip the little clothing he was wearing off his body and explore it with mouth and hands.
Once my shoe is removed, Scott works on my sock. Instead of ripping it off, or rolling it down, he
takes his time gently pushing it downward inch by inch. Every few seconds he looks at me for any sign of
discomfort.
 My insides are turning into jelly and my brain is threatening to go on strike. Touch me, I want to
whisper but I don’t. Please, please, pretty please touch me. But I stay strong.
Once my foot is bare, Scott holds it in his hands. His fingers press gently on different parts, asking
if it hurts.
Each time I shake my head. Agony, this is sheer agony, with my body screaming for more. My pussy
is so wet I could just take him here and now.
Suddenly, Scott’s thumb finds the injured spot. I flinch as his fingers gently prod the area.
“I think it’s a sprain.” Scott keeps holding my foot.
I nod. My mouth is parched and I’m afraid my voice will betray me.
I feel Scott’s eyes look right into my soul.
I myself am looking inward. How can this be happening to me? A few days ago I was bewitched by
Brad and had the best sex of my life, and here I am practically begging another man to take me and fuck
me.
“I’ll help you back to the car.” Scott’s voice penetrates my foggy brain.
If I could I would put some distance between us so I can think better. His presence is unnerving and
I cannot think clearly.
As slowly as the shoe and sock came off, Scott puts them back on.
I try and stand but I’m a little unsteady on my feet. I waver and Scott holds onto me.
Please don’t let me go, I whimper silently. Scott, who seems to have turned into a mind reader,
keeps his arms around my waist.
“I think I better carry you,” he says and before I can protest I’m in his arms.
Fire rips through me. I feel the hardness of his muscles. He really is the proverbial muscle pack.
There are muscles I didn’t even know men had.
“You work out then?” I say and look at his profile.
No effort seems to be expended in him carrying me. It is as if I’m light as a feather. I wish I were. I
know I’m slim, but like every other woman in LA I wish I could lose a few of those pesky pounds on my
thighs and hips. And if anyone ever talks about childbearing hips again I swear I’ll scream.
Scott glances at me.
“Not as much as I’d like to.” Lust flares up in his eyes.
Butterflies caress my skin. I put my arms around his neck.
“Comfortable?” A pause. “There are different positions we could try, you know?”
I raise my eyebrow in mock surprise.
“I hadn’t thought of different positions.” I smile innocently at him. “What do you suggest?”
Vivid pictures flash through my mind.
Scott fixes me with his intense eyes.
“Well lets see,” there’s a little furrow in his brow and a sparkle in his eyes I have not noticed
before. “You could start traditional and move onto the more unusual.”
As he speaks his fingers are caressing my back, drawing little circles on it.
“Tell me more,” I whisper and feel a tingling between my legs.
“I’ve heard of the Tominagi.”
I chuckle. “Is it painful?”
Scott shrugs. “We’d have to give it a go.”
My desire intensifies.
“And?”
My eyes hang on each and every one of his words.
“Doggy lift, fireman pole and one of my favorite, Swiss ball blitz.”
I take my gaze off his face and look around. Unfortunately I realize we are at the most exposed part
of the Canyon trail. There’s not even a tree or high grass in sight.
“And you are experienced in all of those?” I continue our banter.
“Well, in some I’m experienced, in others I would I like to get more…” he pauses, “experience.
You know with this sort of stuff you can never have too much experience.”
I feel one of his hands move toward my backside. He’s managing to hold me in such a way tha his
hand is now on my bare skin.
My grip around his neck tightens. I want to take some of my weight off his arms so he can continue
his search for more personal parts of my body.
“And during all this getting experience,” I continue, “have you worked out which is your favorite or
are you still working on it?”
He throws his head back and laughs.
“I might need to go over some of them again to make sure which one I would rank as number one. I
just need a willing subject.”
By now his fingers are sliding along my ass. If only he could get to my pussy from there. I shift in
his arms.
“Painful?”
I shake my head.
“We could try a different position?”
Our eyes meet and our gazes lock. Slowly he lowers me to the ground before picking me up again.
This time I wrap both my legs around his waist. My arms go back around his neck.
“Better?” he murmurs into my ear.
Action is still rather limited this way, but my pussy now feels his erect dick. I know he’s as turned
on and ready for action as I am.
To my relief I can see the car park not too far into the distance. Mental calculations confirm we can
be back at my apartment ready to rip each other’s clothes off in less than twenty minutes.
 I’m breathing hard and this time not from physical exertion.
Scott’s chest rises and falls against my breasts. I can feel his muscles and heart beat through the
flimsy material that separates our skin. He too is breathing a little faster.
Finally at the car he slowly lowers me to the ground. My back is against the driver’s door.
The instant my feet touch the ground, Scott’s mouth is on top of mine and his tongue is demanding
access into my mouth.
I groan and dig my fingernails into his neck. His hands are pushing under my top and are squeezing
my nipples.
Tempted as I am to rip his shorts off I am aware of other parked cars and the possibility of
strangers coming upon us having sex.
Briefly I let my hands move down into his shorts, just to feel his cock. It’s hard, its long and it’s
ready for me.
“Let’s go to my place.” I invite him, and he doesn’t need to be asked twice.
 Scott


She’s about to get inside her car when I grab her by the wrist.
“What are you doing?”
“Going home,” she whispers, looking at me with wide eyes.
“No way,” I tell her, reaching for her car keys and taking them out from her hands. “You’re not
driving like that. Your ankle’s all swollen. We’ll take my car.”
I don’t even let her argue the point. I just pick her up from the floor and carry her toward my Aston,
parked just a few dozen meters away from her Prius. As gently as I can, I place her on the driver’s seat
and then I take my place behind the wheel.
“I’ll need directions,” I say, looking at her with a grin. Fuck, I can barely control myself. If it
weren’t for the fact we’re surrounded by all these fucking tourists, I’d just fuck her right here.
“It’s easy,” she replies, and a few minutes later we’re cruising down the highway, my cock still
fighting back against the fabric of my shorts. I don’t even remember the last time I was this hard.
The moment I park the Aston outside her apartment building, I get out of the car and just pick her
up. I carry her inside the building and straight toward the elevator, my lips aching for hers with each step I
take.
“Fuck, I can’t wait,” I tell her as she fumbles with her keys. When the door to her apartment finally
swings open, I almost tumble inside. Still, I regain my balance and softly place her down.
“I don’t want to wait,” she adds, throwing her arms over my shoulders and reeling me in. Our lips
meet, and then I’m working on auto-pilot.
With one hand on her waist, I grab the hem of her crop top and then pull it over her head and throw
it to the floor. After that, I just tug on her shorts, sending them down her legs. The fabric pools at her feet
and she kicks it to a faraway corner. She might feel exposed right now in her bra and her tiny thong, but
judging by the look on her face, she’s liking it. And so am I.
I take a step back and allow my eyes to roam over her half-naked body. She looks fucking hot in
nothing but shorts and a tank top, but this…fuck, this is something else. Where has this woman been all my
life?
“Now this is a pretty sight,” I tease her, my eyes wandering up and down her body. My gaze lingers
on her thong, and then it does the same on her breasts.
Feeling my heart kick against my chest, I grab her by the arms and push her toward the couch in the
middle of her living room. I lay her down on it and I lean into her.
My lips reach for her mouth while my hand anxiously slides down her body. My other hand slowly
goes to her back, finds the clasp of her bra and frees it; instead of allowing the cups to droop over her
breasts, though, she places her hands over them.
 Allowing the tension to build, she pushes the straps of her bra down her shoulders, and only then
she does allow the cups to start drooping. My eyes widen as her right nipple comes into sight, rosy and
hard, and I just want to get a taste of it.
I reach for her breasts then. She trembles slightly as she feels the palm of my hands pressing down
on her hard nipples, and then I turn my fingers into claws and squeeze her breasts eagerly. She gasps as I
do it, her breasts burning with pleasure.
Then I run my lips from her mouth, to her neck, and finally then on her nipple. I wrap my lips
around her hard tip and, taking it into my mouth, I start sucking on it. My tongue gently circles her right
nipple while I suck on it and my other hand squeezes her left breast. She closes her eyes, a pleasant
warmth under her skin.
“It´s so good,” she whispers, her mouth allowing a soft moan to escape.
I continue doing the same to the other nipple.
“It’ll get better soon enough”, I grin.
I pull my mouth out of her nipples and slide my hands down the side of her body, taking them to her
waist.
With a growl, I take my fingers to her inner thighs and pull on her thong, sending it down her legs.
She bites her lower lip as she feels it sliding down.
As I expose her wetness, she curls her fingers around my wrist and makes me press my hand against
her pussy. My fingertips caress her inner lips with gentleness, tracing the contour of her pussy and
carefully avoiding her clit. She starts swaying her hips back and forth, trying to make me press my fingers
against her clit.
Then, before she can even moan, I open my hand and press it hard between her thighs. She snaps
her legs shut by instinct, trapping my hand there as I flick one finger against her inner lips. She opens her
mouth and sighs in frenzied delight as she feels my finger sliding inside of her.
I take it all the way, curling it upwards and pressing my fingertip against her G-spot. I rub her there,
drowning her brain with pleasure. When I slide one more finger inside of her, she can’t stop herself from
moaning – she opens her mouth and lets a high-pitched cry of pleasure fall from her lips.
Just like that, she arches her back and I feel her pussy tightening around my fingers as she comes.
Still shaking, she gets up from the couch and presses her hand on my crotch, my cock pulsing
furiously against her, and slides it upwards towards the hem of my shorts. Her eyes never leaving mine,
she slowly starts pulling them down, my cock pressing out against her knuckles as she goes.
Wasting no time, she grabs my underwear, pushing it down in one swift movement. My cock jumps
out at once – I can see on her face she’s surprised by my length, and I can’t help but grin.
“Not bad,” she smirks at me, curling her fingers around the root of my shaft.
She starts stroking me, taking one hand all the way up my length and then making the same climb
with her other hand. She goes like that for a while, tugging on my member with both her hands in a
flowing motion.
My hips rock slightly forwards, and I just want to put my whole hardness inside her mouth. She lets
her hands go up to my stomach and she grabs at my t-shirt, tugging on it and undressing me.
I take it out as she hurries down to my shorts and boxer briefs and push them completely down my
legs. Before I can take them off, she grabs me by the waist and pushes me down onto the couch, right next
to her.
I grin at her as she positions herself on top of me, taking my sneakers off and throwing them away. I
kick off my shorts then, taking a whole second to marvel at the perfect, naked girl standing on top of me.
She leans into me fast, parting her lips and taking my cock inside of her mouth. I exhale in pleasure
as she flicks her tongue against my tip, circling it with soft and deliberate movements.
My hands go to her head and I push her down with an almost anxious eagerness. She doesn’t even
bother resisting my pressure – she wants to feel that thickness inside her tight mouth, and I don’t want to
wait for it either.
Going down my length, she pushes herself as hard as she can, straining to fit me all inside of her
mouth. She pulls back slowly the moment she feels her lips touching the skin at the base of my cock.
Then, firmly grabbing my cock by the root, she starts bobbing her head, my length going in and out
of her mouth at a steady pace. I guide her with my hands although she keeps her own rhythm – she needs
no guidance, the rhythm of her mouth on my shaft growing into an unstoppable crescendo of lustful fury.
Pulling back out again, she lets my cock pop out of her mouth and starts stroking me again, her eyes
never leaving mine.
Oh, Kayla’s good…very fucking good.
 Kayla


His breathing is growing rougher with each bob of my head and I up the pace, stroking him while I
suck.
Letting go of my head, his fingers slide down my neck and go around my waist, caressing my inner
thighs. I push my knees slightly apart, allowing him to place his hand on top of my pussy, one finger of his
immediately finding the way to my clitoris.
He doesn’t waste time – with his cock lodged deep inside my mouth, he slides one finger inside of
me and starts to move it in and out in a furious pace. I sway my hips as he does it, my throat vibrating with
a moan that can’t escape my lips because of his massive cock.
I like his fingers inside of me almost as much as I relish having him in my mouth. But there’s
something else that we can do – something better.
I grab his hand and make him take his fingers out. Then, I pop his cock out of my mouth and jump on
top of his body.
With my back turned to him, I slide back. Realizing what I’m about to do, he grabs me by the hips
and pulls me into him, his mouth fitting right below my dripping pussy.
I only stop when his face is trapped between my thighs and then I start easing myself down softly,
allowing his tongue to part my pussy lips and jab in and out of me quickly, while his other hand press
down on my clitoris.
With my pussy on his face, I lean forwards, grabbing his cock and pointing it straight at my mouth. I
let it slide inside of me in a hurry, his burning flesh rolling over my tongue hastily. I suck on him as hard
as I can, cupping and caressing his balls with one hand. God, his balls are huge – it seems like I’m
playing with tennis balls.
I try to focus on what I’m doing, but it’s harder than it seems. He keeps flicking his tongue at me,
thrusting with it and then sliding it along my slit, all while he rubs on my clit with the dexterity of a true
master. We’re pleasing each other with our mouths – my pussy in his mouth, his cock in mine – and it’s
absolutely amazing.
I feel my whole body burning with pleasure and all I want to do is scream. To do so, I take his cock
out of my mouth and let a high-pitched scream tumble out of my mouth, filling the whole living room. I
grab his knees hard, arching my back as a jolt of mind numbing electricity runs through my spine.
I’m coming hard and, fuck, he doesn’t ease up. He keeps licking me, his fingers hooked on my hips
and keeping me in place. I tremble in ecstasy like a madwoman until I can’t take it anymore; I roll to the
side, closing my eyes and breathing hard.
But I want more. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help it. I’m drawn to him like a moth
to a flame.
 I lick my lips and he looks at me, his hands circling my waist, and I lean in to kiss him. My tongue
slides along his as our bodies press together in frenzied lust. My pussy is calling for him and I become a
ravenous, wild person I hardly recognize.
With Scott’s hands on my hips, he lifts me up so that the head of his cock is lined with my opening,
before sliding me his hard shaft inside me. A slow moan escapes me, and my hips begin to move as Scott
looks at me with a grin.
Our bodies move slowly together, he slides and sits up on the couch so that his hand is cradling my
neck, guiding me on and off of his cock.
I’m screaming. Oh, I’m screaming really loud now.
It’s impossible not to – I have been with some men, sure, but Scott’s cock is on a completely
different league. As he rams it inside me, I feel my inner walls straining to accommodate him, my whole
body being torn apart by pleasure.
I lift my ass slightly up and moan, his thickness completely devastating me. I ease myself down,
making him go deep once more. Before I know it, I’m riding him in a pendulum motion, his cock sliding in
and out at a careful and gentle pace.
I start going faster. I want it fast and hard, I want him to lash out at me with all the raging ferocity
that he’s capable of.
As if he could read my mind, he places both his hands on my ass and, grabbing hard at my ass
cheeks, he starts rocking his hips against mine faster, his cock hitting me deep inside my pussy with such
demolishing strength that I can’t even tell right from left.
I try and match his rhythm, bucking my hips at him at such a quick pace that I start to run out of
breath. But Scott doesn’t ease up – he keeps thrusting and thrusting, all of my senses completely
overwhelmed by a feeling so damn pleasant it should be illegal.
He smacks my ass hard, grabbing my ass and feeling the sway of my body with his fingers. My
muscles become tight and I know it’s coming – I surrender to that tidal wave of pleasure willingly and
come again.
I scream so hard that I feel my throat growing sore.
I feel him tense up then but, acting by instinct, I tighten my pussy around his cock like a vice. I pull
him out of me slowly, my body trembling as I do it. I roll to the side, my back against the couch.
“We’re not done yet,” I say, and he replies by placing his hands under my ass cheeks and lifting me
up. I cross my legs on his lower back, placing one arm over his shoulder as he leans into me. He presses
his body against mine and I do the rest, using my free hand to hold his cock into position.
With one hand under my neck and the other holding me by the waist, he rams his cock all the way
in. He starts to thrust at me furiously, his thickness completely ravaging my inner walls.
I start moaning louder as his thrusts become almost unbearable, the strength with which he does it
shaking me to the core. My skin is burning, my muscles are electrified, and my mind is boiling. Every
single cell in me is devoted to one single thing: pleasure.
“It’s so…fucking…good…” I breathe out, the words getting out of me between thrusts. He says
nothing; he just keeps on fucking me, pistoning into me as if he was put on Earth for the sole purpose of
pleasuring me.
He fucks me without a trace of mercy, his cock pounding into me so fast and hard I can’t even tell if
it’s coming or going. And who cares about that anyway? All that matters is that he’s inside of me, right
where he belongs.
I can’t hold on much longer. My mind is going blank, each trust choking down all rational thoughts
on my brain – it doesn’t take long for my body to start burning up, a river of volcanic pleasure coursing
through my veins in boiling ecstasy.
“Oh my –” I stop mid-sentence, a scream erupting out of me as I climax again, my legs letting go of
him and kicking against the couch in uncontrollable ecstasy. I scream and moan, my muscles feeling numb
as electric pleasure starts to pool inside of me, filling me up to the brim.
 Scott


I stop thrusting and slowly pull out of her. I lean into her and kiss her lips once again.
She pulls out from my kiss and goes up to her feet, grabbing my hand.
“Let’s change the movie set, shall we?” She asks me with a devilish grin on her face. I follow her
across the living room and into her bedroom.
“I won’t argue that one,” I reply with a chuckle. “You’re the head writer.”
We arrive at her bedroom and she wastes no time, guiding me straight to the bed. Then she lies
down on her back and, grabbing me by the neck, forces me to follow after her. I’m prepared to part her
inner lips and thrust again when I realize she has other intentions.
“Not yet,” she grins, reaching for my cock; she begins stroking it back and forth, her movements
slow but steady.
“I want your cock right here,” she tells me firmly, pointing to the valley between her delicious
breasts.
Smiling, I grab and pinch her nipples hard. Then, placing my shaft between her breasts, she
squeezes my cock between them and I start to thrust.
Fuck, I’m going insane. The sight of her wicked expression, her breasts and my cock between
them…yeah, I’m going fucking insane in here.
She keeps on squeezing my cock between her breasts for a long time, and I only stop when I feel the
fire of ecstasy taking over me. Gritting my teeth, I take a deep breath and stop myself from coming right on
time.
Grabbing my cock firmly, I close in on her and push her down the mattress, forcing her to lay down.
Slapping my cock against her pussy, I press my body against hers, her breasts mashed against my
chest. She laces my neck with one arm, pulling me into her, and opens her mouth to kiss me.
As soon as our lips connect, I start thrusting, doing it as hard as I can. My thickness pushes her
inner walls back as it slides all the way in.
I thrust hard right from the start, going deeper each time my cock slides inside her. Her eyes are
closed and her mouth sings a sweet moan – the perfect soundtrack while I ravage her completely.
Feeling close to the point of no return, I pull out of her and hook my fingers on her thighs, making
her roll to her stomach. I kneel on the bed, pulling her into me. She juts her ass back at me and props
herself up with her elbows.
Her hair is dishevelled, locks of it falling over her face, but she doesn’t seem to care. Neither do I.
All that I care about is handing out a sweet beating on her drenched pussy.
Her body shivers as she feels my hands tracing the curves on her ass, my fingers finding her aching
pussy lips and parting them with care. She moans as I press my large tip against her pussy, rubbing it up
and down there. She wiggles her ass at me – she’s impatient, she doesn’t want to wait anymore, and she
doesn’t want any teasing.
In a fraction of a second, I sheath my cock up to the hilt inside of her pussy. Moaning hard, she
pushes her head down against the mattress, her hair cascading down her shoulders as she lets a string of
moans escape from her lips.
Pistoning into her with a kind of savage violence, I reach for her breasts and flatten my hands
against them, massaging her flesh and brushing my fingertips over her hard nipples.
She’s grabbing at the sheets hard, the intensity of what’s running through her veins completely mind
numbing. She’s gritting her teeth, her whole body tensing up as she savors how my cock struggles against
her tightness.
Then, as she tightens her pussy around my length, I slow down the pace, taking my time to
appreciate how it feels to be deep inside of her and have her inner walls trying to choke my thick cock.
Only after taking a few deep breaths do I start picking up the pace once more. She screams, and all
I can hear is her voice and my thighs slapping her ass, the sound of it filling the entire room.
Slowly, I slide my right hand to her clit and star rubbing it. With the other hand, I grab a handful of
hair and yank on it, fucking her as hard as I can.
It doesn’t take long for her to come again.
She’s screaming, and she’s screaming hard. I pulled my cock out of her, and she just collapses on
the mattress. But she still has some strength left. Half staggering, she gets on her knees, grabs me by the
neck, her mouth close to mine, and forces me to lay down.
Then, she climbs on top of me, her wetness rubbing against my thighs.
Kayla leans into me and sways her chest over my face, enjoying the look on my face as her breasts
jiggle right over my eyes. I take one hand to her ass and the other to one of her breasts. I lift my head and
wrap my lips around her hard nipple, sucking on it with such violent desire that she can’t help but close
her eyes and sigh harshly, all air leaving her lungs at once.
Incapable of holding her desire any longer, she starts sliding down my body, rubbing her pussy
against me. When she reaches my thighs, she grabs my throbbing cock with her eager fingers and moves
her hand up and down a few times. She points it upwards, angling my tip, and eases herself down.
She sways her hips back and forth for a while, but soon enough she’s jumping up and down my cock
as fast as she can. I keep thrusting as she does, matching her rhythm.
She keeps riding me, going like that for what seems like an eternity, going from riding my cock to
simply jumping up and down over it. I feel thick beads of sweat dripping down my head, and their
saltiness stings my eyes.
Still with my cock inside her, she lifts herself up on the mattress slightly, raising her knees and
supporting herself with only her feet. It’s like she never injured her foot. Maybe it was all just a plot to get
close to me.
 Fuck, she’s so good at this I don´t think I can take it much longer without coming. She’s squatting
over me, my cock pointing straight up and ready to be buried deep inside of her once more.
Using the last strength remaining in her body, she starts lowering herself on my cock and then going
back up. She screams each time she goes down, my cock so deep inside of her that she can’t help but
force herself further down, eager to have every single inch of my shaft burning inside of her.
I almost believe that my size doesn’t matter – her desire is so wicked, so all-consuming and fierce,
that I just know she’d take me no matter what.
I feel my cock pulsing harshly inside of her, all of my body tensing up, and she makes one last effort
to not slow down. I’m gritting my teeth and, in an instant, my muscles become even more taut as my cock
starts spasming violently inside of her, shooting all my cum inside her. My warm seed fills her up and
starts dripping down to her thighs, falling in thick droplets on the sheets – but she doesn’t stop.
She doesn’t want to stop.
She continues forcing herself down, and a few seconds later she’s coming, pleasure violently
raging through her. She’s high on sex, high on my pulsing cock inside her. And as my shaft continues
spasming, my load shooting deep into her, she moans so hard that her voice starts quivering.
We keep coming for a long while, the seconds ticking away as the fire of ecstasy consumes us both.
Only when I become still does she roll to the side and lay down on the mattress, her limbs sprawled.
I didn’t even notice it before, but I’m covered in sweat, my hair plastered to my face.
Fuck, who’d have thought that Kayla would be such a goddess between the sheets?
 Kayla


I remove the icepack from my ankle and rub some cream on it. Back at the freezer, I grab some ice
cream and start eating it straight from the tub. Angela is a firm believer in eating the stuff straight from the
container in times of emotional overloads. And I’m suffering from emotional overload.
Armed with spoon and box, I limp back to my laptop. I wait for the screen to come to life and try
my hardest to push vivid images of this afternoon out of my mind.
Time for some work, Kayla, I think to myself. You’ve had your fun, and now you need to
concentrate.
Easier said than done, I discover.
I sigh and randomly type some words onto the screen. At least now it doesn’t look so empty. What a
sad habit.
Failure, you’re a failure. The words haunt me. I can’t afford to screw up this project.
I must succeed.
For further inspiration, I take another spoonful of ice cream. I revel in the cold, sweet texture
sliding along my tongue and down my throat. Not as good as swallowing all of Scott, but it’s satisfying in
its own way.
Briefly, I imagine Scott’s body covered in ice cream and the pleasure I’d have in licking it off, my
tongue working its way from chest to belly to between his legs. I sigh.
I can still feel his tongue working its magic between my legs.
I shake my head. What am I doing? There’s no time to indulge in fantasies of our sexual escapade
earlier today.
If I don’t start writing, Ed will have me killed, or worse, he’ll see to it that I would be fired.
I change my tactic.
Quickly my fingers move across the keyboard to pull up my scene map. My scene map is like a
mind map, except it depicts different scenes in the series.
Instead of writing, I will focus on creating individual scenes. Any progress is going to be better
than nothing at all.
I reread the first series and then open up my notes on series two. But try as I might to concentrate,
my thoughts are not cooperating.
Brad. Scott. Scott. Brad.
Kill one of them. Ian’s off-limits
Those things invade my mind like weeds invading the lawn.
It’s no use. There’s no way I’m going to be doing any work tonight.
There’s only one thing to do. I go back into the kitchen and grab a wine glass. A bottle of red is
taken from my wine rack, and once my glass if full, I make myself comfortable on the couch.
With my left hand I hold my glass and with my right hand I flick through my contacts. Ah, there it is.
After the third ring, I get worried. What if she doesn’t pick up? What will I do then?
“Hello, stranger,” a familiar voice greets me after the eighth ring.
“Hey, Ange.” I take a sip of my wine. For the umpteenth time, I lament the fact my best friend is out
of town at the moment.
Why has she chosen this week to take a little break? It’d have been much better if she were around.
A girl’s night would be awesome.
“What have you been up to?”
I sigh. Where do I start?
“That bad, is it?” Angela asks before I can reply to her question.
“You know me too well.” I laugh. “I don’t know where to start.”
It’s true. What do I unburden first, the problem about work or the problem of fucking my two leads?
“Ed’s being a dick,” I start, and I hear Angela laugh. Instantly I feel better.
“What else is new?” Angela says, and I’m reminded how Angela had a run-in with Ed last year. It
wasn’t pretty, but from what she said, Ed came off looking worse from the incident than she did.
“Well,” I start and try and work out how to put it to her. “He’s interfering with my creative side. He
just barged into my office the other day to tell me I have to kill off one of the leads in the show.”
“Is that all?” Angela sounds indifferent.
“I don’t think it’s time to kill one of them, and besides…” I falter.
There’s laughter from Angela.
“Let me guess, you’re screwing one of them?”
Luckily, Angela can’t see me go bright red like a tomato. Wait till she hears the rest of my story.
“Anyway, why don’t you kill that loser Ian? He’s a wanker anyway.”
Good old Ange, not one to shy away from saying it as she sees it.
“That’s just the problem. Ed told me Ian’s off-limits.”
Silence.
“But even if he wasn’t off-limits,” I continue, “I don’t think the show is ready for losing one of the
brothers. I mean…it is meant to be about three brothers, not two and their deceased brother.”
I pause to take a sip of my wine. “Although you could maybe delve into that ghost stuff, you know?
Like they did in that other show.”
“I don’t think Ian has the talent to play a ghost,” Angela points out.
I groan. “And he’s off-limits.”
“I heard. Can’t you do that? Just kill one of the guys and have him come back as a ghost…that way,
you’re only changing his character. Solved. Easy.”
More wine dances across my tongue, tantalizing my taste buds. Briefly, I contemplate the story line
put forward by Ange before I dismiss it. Ed would never go for it.
“It wouldn’t work.”
“What’s the other problem?”
“I’ve had the best sex ever with Brad,” I confess, and Ange chuckles.
“And since when is that a problem? About time you loosened up and looked after your sex life. You
and Angelo were never meant to be together.”
“And then today,” I continue, ignoring the reference to Angelo. Angelo has been shelved over
twelve months ago, after I found him banging his personal assistant. “I fucked Scott.”
I wait for the rebuke.
“I still can’t see the problem?”
“Are you serious?” I rouse on my best friend. “Have you been listening? I’m having sex with two
different guys.”
As I say it out loud, I groan inwardly. When did my life become so complicated?
What had happened to my goal of becoming a successful screenwriter, find a supportive man, live
in a nice mansion downtown along with all the other successful writers and…and what? Be bored out of
my brain?
“Lighten up, Kay,” Angela says.
“Easy for you to say.” I grumble. “You’ve always been more adventurous than me.”
I’m sure Angela doesn’t tell me everything that’s going on in her life. She’s a wild one.
“About time for you to catch up. Enjoy it and see where it takes you. I wish I had two spunks like
Brad and Scott lust after me.”
We laugh. We both know Angela is not short on admirers.
“But what am I going to do?” I persist.
“Enjoy it.”
“What about this killing off scene? How can I kill either Brad or Scott?” I know the minute I do,
our relationship will be over. Am I selfish in not wanting it to end with either one of them?
“You need to think creative. You’re the writer. You’ll work something out.”
Angela sounds full of optimism.
“But I still don’t know what to do about Brad and Scott.” I know I sound like a broken record, but I
can’t help it.
“Again you need to think creatively. You might not need to choose between either one of them.”
I frown. What does she mean?
“You’re not suggesting…?” I hesitate. Is she really suggesting I keep both going at the same time?
“I’m suggesting you’re making a mountain out of a molehill. How do you know they would be
against doing it with you,” Angela pauses, “together?”
“At the same time?” I blurt the question out before I can stop myself.
 “Duh.”
“I don’t know. That sort of bad girl stuff doesn’t suit me.”
“How do you know?”
I bite my bottom lip. “Because I’m not like that. You’re like that.”
“About time you get with the program, girl.” Angela laughs before I hear her talk to someone else.
“Sorry, gorgeous, got to go.”
“Company?”
“You bet. Just go with it. Stop thinking about it, and you’ll see it’ll all work out.”
I feel marginally better when I press the end button on my phone…emphasis on marginally.
It’s too early to go to bed, and I know I won’t be able to sleep, not with the way I’m feeling right
now. And so I try one more time to plan my scenes for the next upcoming season.
Angela’s words ring in my ear: “get with the program,” and “be a bad girl.” I’ve enjoyed sex with
both Brad and Scott. Perhaps my best friend’s right.
Maybe I should just go with the flow.
 Scott


I pull up at the Starbucks drive-through for a triple espresso. I need to bring my A game for today’s
read through, and a heavy dose of caffeine is just what the script doctor ordered. I need to be wide awake
and ready for action.
I pass my credit card through the window, pay for my coffee, and drive to the studio.
The top’s down today, and the sun is fucking magnificent. I love LA mornings when there’s no smog
and the air is almost fresh.
When I get to the lot, I park my car, and who do I see? Brad. Bam!
What a way to start the day.
I mean, he’s a nice-enough guy, and if we weren’t in a competition about whose character is gonna
live and who’s is gonna die, I might really dig him. Maybe grab a beer together after a long day on set—if
I weren’t competing.
I guess I need to cut him some slack. This wasn’t his idea.
The whole situation is just fucked. Seriously.
I need to stop thinking like this.
Before I get out of the car, I pull down the visor and give myself the once-over in the mirror. I
check the hair, give a big smile, and make sure there’s no breakfast stuck in my teeth. Looking good. Time
to move on out.
“Breathe,” I tell myself. “Stay calm. People can smell desperation.”
There are certain things that are out of my control, but I refuse to believe this is one of them. I will
act my ass off (and any other body parts necessary) at this table read to make sure I’m the character they
can’t live without.
“Yo! Brad,” I call as I jog over to him. “Wait up.”
“Hey, Scott. What’s going on?”
“Ah, you know, the usual.”
“Yeah? Kinda tense around here lately, don’t you think?” Brad asks.
“Yeah, just a little,” I say, trying to sound like I’m tossing off the remark.
We push through the revolving door, and we’re greeted by Sam the guard.
He’s about a hundred years old and can’t see worth shit. If there were any type of disturbance,
we’d definitely be on our own. But he’s been with the studio for twenty-five years, and no one has the
heart to fire him.
He just scowls at us as we say our hellos. We sign in and head toward studio A.
Most of the cast for The Kings is already at the table, and the only person missing is Kayla.
I hang my jacket up in the corner, take the script from my back pocket, and head over to the table
with my triple shot and plop down in the seat next to Brad.
I inch my chair a little closer. I bet he can feel me breathing on him. I figure a little intimidation
might throw him off.
My mother used to say, “Whoever has the upper hand has control.” And I want control.
The truth is, I gotta have it. I hate, absolutely hate, not knowing what’s coming next.
When I read a book, I skip to the end so I know who did it. I can’t take the anxiety of not
immediately knowing what’s going to happen.
Like right now, I want to know what Brad knows, and the best way to do that is to get him talking.
“Kayla’s late,” I say and blow a breath out as if I’m exasperated.
“Not really,” Brad says, looking at the clock on the wall. “She has another five minutes.”
“Aren’t we precise, and protective.”
Brad sits back in his chair and looks at me. “Meaning?”
“Let’s just say I have my sources, and I know what goes on around here.” I make a circular motion
with my hand, indicating the studio.
“I’m not sure that’s something you want to brag about. It’s a little girlie, if you ask me,” Brad says.
“So now you think you’ve got comedy chops? ’Cause that wasn’t funny.”
“I just call it like I see it.” Brad folds his arms over his chest. “Who would have pegged you as
gossip girl?” And then he chuckles.
It’s the chuckle that gets me. It’s a little superior, so now I’m feeling like I gotta pounce.
I lean in and whisper, “I know you think you’ve got it all going on with Kayla.”
“Jeez!” He turns in his chair and frowns. “Was your last gig as a code breaker, because you’re
being incredibly cryptic. What are you talking about, and what is it you think you know, Scott?”
He sounds pissed, and a the few cast members are starting to look our way.
“Well, I know about that little lunch run you did for Kayla.” I shake my head. “Dude, that was so
freaking lame. What makes you think wining and dining with the head writer saves your ass? It’s gonna
take a lot more than that.”
Brad just stares at me and shrugs. Smug is all over his face.
“I’m seriously asking, why do you think that’s your save?”
“I’m not just a pretty face,” Brad fires back, pointing to his head. The rest of the people at the table
are definitely staring at us now. “There is actually something underneath this hood. And I have a plan.”
I so wanna wipe the smirk off his face. But it’s true, the guy is good-looking, and clearly he’s
working as hard as I am to stay in this game. So I gotta give him some props.
“If you know so much about what’s going on around here,” Brad continues, “and if you have your
finger on the pulse, as you claim, why don’t you know who’s getting written off?”
I gotta admit, this catches me slightly off guard.
Now it’s my turn to shrug.
 “If the studio is looking for an easy answer,” Brad says, “I have a tire iron in my trunk. I’ll make it
painless, I promise.”
“Look, all I’m trying to say is it’s going to take a lot more than bringing Kayla lunch to beat me. It’s
going to actually take some acting skills. And sorry. Last time I checked, there was no contest. Mine were
front and center.”
I slap the table for emphasis, and the girl across the table jumps.
“Oh, ho, ho, ho…you think? Dream on. Who got twelve, count them, twelve script pages in the last
episode?”
“Bro, what the fuc—” I shake my head, “Your character’s name was on twelve pages, but you were
lying unconscious for ten of them. It’s not as if you had to act, for God’s sake!”
“Remember who won the People’s Choice Award? Right, that would be me.” Brad gives a low
whistle. “Man, why don’t you go sit on the other side of the table?”
He pushes to his feet and walks over to the craftytable, all eyes on him.
I get up and step right in line next to him. “Listen, this is getting out of hand,” I say in an angry
whisper.
“Asshole, you started it.”
“I am not the asshole. You’re the one who’s playing Kayla. And if I find out that’s the case, they
won’t have to figure out who to write off, ’cause I’ll kill you.”
Brad grabs a bottled water from the table and takes a long chug while I stand there and wait for a
response.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist. “I feel the same way. If you’re using her to keep
your job, then I really will take out that tire iron.”
Now I’m pumped the fuck up. I want a piece of this guy. I’m about to take a swing when the door
opens, and in sweeps the director’s assistant, a girl named Sandra.
“What the fuck are you guys doing?” she asks, her foul mouth fast at work while her gaze sweeps
the room. “You’re in the wrong fucking room. Kayla has been waiting for you for ages.”
As the rest of the cast starts getting up from their chairs, Sandra raises her hand and stops them.
“No, today’s just the three wonder brothers—Brad, Scott, and Ian.”
Ah, fuck.
 Kayla


“Play it cool,” I remind myself as I pretend to be busy reading from my laptop. Sandra has gone out
to look for the cast, and a few minutes later, the door opens and Brad saunters in. My nose recognizes his
aftershave, distinct yet subtle.
I briefly glance at him, smile, and return to reading. My heart is bucking in my chest like a wild
bronco. Take deep breaths, I think, but I steal the occasional glimpse of Brad.
How I would like to be doing something else right now, other than sitting through a reading with our
director and three actors.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he says casually and sits to my left.
I pretend to only just notice him now.
“Hi, Brad. How’re you today?” I am pleased with how casual I sound. There isn’t a hint of a quiver
in my voice.
“Party started already, huh?” Scott has come in without me noticing it.
I reach for my coffee and take a sip. This is going to be an interesting reading.
Since my romp with Brad and Scott the other day, I haven’t been in the same room as the two of
them.
“Where’s Ian?” Scott breaks the silence first.
“We don’t’ need him,” quips Brad. “A threesome is much more cozy, don’t you think?” He shoots a
meaningful glance in my direction.
I notice Scott narrowing his eyes and leaning back on his chair, his lips a thin line. Have they been
fighting?
Ah, and the tingling between my legs has me on edge. Perhaps I should ask for a jug of ice-cold
water to be brought in.
“Who says Kayla would be interested in you?” Scott is quick with a comeback.
Brad shrugs.
“Dude, you gotta go on a limb to get ahead in life.”
Scott’s eyebrow raise to a perfect arch.
“A limb? Looks like you’ve’ gone out on a twig, my friend.”
My nerve endings are on fire. I’m trying to search for something to say to diffuse the tense situation.
“You learned your lines?” is all I manage to say. Not very imaginative, but at least both of them are
looking at me now.
With each of their gazes on me, I feel heat spread through me, together with electric shock waves,
as if I’ve stuck my finger in a light socket.
“For our next blow job,” Brad starts, Scott coughs, and I’m not sure what to say. “Sorry. I mean for
our next con job, I suggest we target the jewelry place.”
I see Brad grin from ear to ear. He seems to be enjoying himself. He oozes relaxation.
Scott leans back in his chair, glancing at Brad sideways. His lips curl into a little smile.
“I thought we’d agree not to go after the diamonds but focus on the one gem.”
It is my turn for my brows to furrow. I flick through my notes on the computer. I’m pretty sure I
didn’t write those lines.
“Ah, yes. Previous plans. The trouble with previous plans is, they are too predictable.” Brad
doesn’t miss a beat.
“Now the gem. The gem is worth going after.”
Open-mouthed, I watch the wordplay between the two of them, and I’m not sure what script they’re
reading from.
“You started without me?”
I didn’t notice Ian come in, followed closely by Derrick, our director. Both sit down. Derrick pulls
out some papers from his bag and spreads them out in front of him.
Ian crosses his arms in front of his chest.
He’s not bad-looking—it’s just the opposite, actually. Pronounced jaw, deep voice, and piercing…
not to mention the sleek haircut. But he isn’t like Brad or Scott.
While the other two exude confidence, their energy a raw and manly one, Ian seems…off. I don’t
know what it is, but he doesn’t strike me as the manly type.
All that would be alright if he could act, but Ian is a complete disaster.
Neither Brad nor Scott acknowledge Ian.
“Hi, Ian,” I greet the actor and nod at Derrick. “Ignore them, they’re just—”
“Comparing the size of their dicks,” completes Ian, and for a second silence descends over the
room. Thankfully, I register there are no heavy objects any of them can pick up and use as a weapon.
“Kayla.” Derrick sits directly opposite from me. “Everyone’s got your next scenes, I assume?” The
director, like me, has chosen to ignore Ian’s outburst.
Clearing my throat, I nod. Part of me wants to laugh, and the other wants to end the reading and hide
in my office.
“Let’s take it from the top,” I say and look at Ian.
His expression is blank, and he makes no attempt at doing anything other than glare at each of us in
turn.
Scott leans toward him and whispers something I cannot understand.
“I’m bored,” mumbles Ian, and I frown. I scroll to the correct spot on the script.
“And I think we should come up with something fresh.” I add for him, feeding him his line.
The man is driving me insane. He never seems to know his lines. And when he does deliver them,
he lacks any kind of conviction or passion for his role.
 Mental note to self: reduce Ian’s dialogue for future scenes. He may be off-limits, but I can make
sure he takes a considerable backward step.
“Fresh, you say,” Scott butts in. “I think I can help with fresh.”
“You don’t know how fresh,” Brad adds, even though I’m sure it’s not his turn.
What are they up to?
“Like I said before.” Brad moves his head in Ian’s direction. “Before he came in.”
“What are you guys doing?” Ian cuts Brad off.
Scott chuckles.
“Antiques—we need to start dealing in antiques,” Brad continues without paying any attention to
Ian.
“I’d rather deal with a fresh young thing.” Scott winks at me as he speaks.
“I’m tired of being—” Ian stumbles over the word being and stops.
“Ian.” I’m getting pissed off. “It’s not that hard—I’m tired of being the actor in your heist. I want to
be more involved.”
I scowl at him, reading his lines from the script. The Kings is a TV show about three brothers
planning a heist, not a goddamn Shakespearean play! What’s so hard about getting these lines down?
“Just keep up with the other two, would you?” My patience is running on super low today.
“If your writing wasn’t so extraordinarily bad, I wouldn’t have any trouble remembering or
speaking them.”
At his words, I grip the arms of my chair. How dare the little shit insult my writing. And that smug
look on his face is enough to want to make me hit him.
“Stooping to insults isn’t going to make you look better,” I say in the calmest voice I can muster.
Inwardly, a storm is brewing. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s arrogant pricks like Ian. People
who stuff up and blame someone else for their mistakes really rub me up the wrong way.
“Hey, man.” Brad turns to Ian. “That’s uncalled for”
Ian glares at Brad.
“What’s it to you, Brad?” Ian emphasizes Brad as if it has four a’s and not one.
“There’s nothing wrong with Kayla’s writing,” Scott adds and smiles.
“My, my,” Ian sneers. “Two blokes drooling over Kayla. How does it feel, Kayla?” His voice is by
now dripping with sarcasm.
I’m trying to think on my feet.
“Let’s just stick to the lines and say them properly.” I inject authority into my voice. My eyes search
for support from Derrick, but he’s not much help.
“I would if those two wouldn’t clown around, comparing the sizes of their dicks to impress you,”
Ian says, pointing at Scott and Brad.
The man is now starting to trample on my nerves, and I’m more determined than ever to kill him off,
off-limits or not.
“Look, Ian.” I get out of my chair. “It’s always you who stuffs up his lines. You hardly ever
remember them properly. And when you do remember them, you say them more like a zombie than a
professional actor. My lunch delivery guy could do a better job than you.”
Ian is pushing his chair back, and it falls to the ground with a loud thud.
His face is redder than a tomato.
“How dare you.” His voice is barely under control. “How dare you, you bitch in heat, treat me like
this?”
At his words, I feel a little heat rise to my cheeks. Who does he think he is to speak to me like this?
“She’s right, you know?” Scott now puts his two cents’ worth in as well, and Ian becomes even
redder.
“You’ll be sorry, Kayla.” Ian is now shouting. “You’ll be sorry when I tell Ed.”
I watch him storm out of the room. His words perturb me only a little.
Someone is clearing their throat. It’s Derrick.
“How about we take our lunch break a little earlier today.” He glances at his watch before he adds,
“Reconvene at 3p.m.”
When the door shuts, I busy myself with my laptop.
Apart from the ticking of the clock, there’s not a sound in the room.
Eventually, I look at my two remaining leads.
“Good job today,” I say and smile. I mean it. I’m not sure what the hell they were doing with all
that improvisation, but I enjoyed it.
Brad grins and looks at Scott.
“Yeah, thanks, but I think we could’ve done better.”
“No, the two of you work well together. You make a good team.”
They exchange what looks like a conspiratorial glance. Butterflies multiply in the pit of my
stomach. What are they planning?
“Your writing helps,” Scott says, and I know I’m blushing a little.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“No.” Brad is quick to jump in. “He’s right. Your writing is fantastic. It’s not your fault Ian is a jerk
and is useless at what he does.”
I shut my laptop and look from one to the other.
“Teamwork is important, and you two are team players. I appreciate that.”
Go with the flow, I hear Angela’s voice inside my heads.
 Kayla


With little sweat beads forming on the base of my neck and a slight dizzy feeling, I ponder my next
move. Opportunity is presenting itself. Angela’s words ring in my ears as if she’s standing next to me.
Be a bad girl, Kayla. Enjoy it and go with the flow.
With laptop firmly closed and back in my bag, I head to the door. It’s now or never.
If I want this, I need to make my move now. And in a way opportunity has just presented itself.
“Grab it,” I tell myself.
“I’m going to have lunch in my office.” I don’t look at either of them. Instead I keep my eyes down,
as if studying the pattern on the carpet intently. “Do you care to join me?” I hope I ooze total innocence.
Instead of Brad or Scott asking which one of them I’m inviting, they both say yes at the same time.
I walk ahead of them. I wiggle my ass deliberately from side to side.
My tight miniskirt rides up just a little as I walk up the staircase. I don’t pull it down. In fact, I try
and make sure it rides up a little higher with each step I take.
And I walk slowly, making sure the two men can feast their eyes on my behind. With any luck, their
sexual desires are fuelled, and their imaginations working overtime.
It’s an hour before I normally have my lunch. I’m not prepared to entertain anyone for lunch.
As soon as we enter my sacred kingdom—my office—I turn to my two guests.
“Care for a bite?” I bat my eyelids and smile sweetly.
Scott grins, and Brad shoots a sideways glance at the other man.
“Always,” both answer at the same time.
To slow things down, I sit behind my desk. I lean forward a little to allow each of them an eyeful of
the pink lace of my bra, having made sure my top is no longer buttoned all the way to the top.
Brad takes a seat in the director’s chair, and Scott sprawls out on my three-seater lounge. I knew
having a lounge in the office was a good decision.
A silent thank you is sent to Angela. Angela had assured me every writer needs a director’s chair
and lounge in their office. According to her, one never knows what’s going to happen and what type of
seating will be needed.
Looks like my lounge is going to be needed today, at least if everything goes according to plan.
“You boys happy for me to be in charge…?” Deliberately, I leave the question open.
Scott shrugs, and Brad nods.
“I like a woman who knows what she wants.” Scott unbuttons the top half of his shirt.
I watch them both and lick my lips. Crazy lust fills my every last pore.
This is madness. When did I turn into this crazy sex-obsessed woman? What happened to the nice
girl my mother had raised?
 “Let me order us something.” I dial the number of my lunch provider and order my usual, times
three.
“Just ring when you are at the office,” I add before ending the conversation.
When I hang up the phone, I see Brad looking at my name certificate displayed on the wall.
“In some cultures, ‘Kayla’ means ‘keeper of the keys.’” He turns toward me. “I bet you have the key
to my heart already.”
Scott jumps off the couch and joins Brad.
“It also says it means ‘wise one.’” Scott nudges Brad. “You have to agree, she’s definitely wise.
The way she put Ian in her place and the stuff she writes, she definitely fits the bill.”
Both look at me, and suddenly I wonder if this really is a good idea.
“A name well chosen.” Scott walks over to my desk. He sits on the edge of it and picks up my
stress ball. Slowly, he squeezes and releases it and squeezes and releases it again.
“Is that what you do for relaxation, Kayla? Play with balls?”
Scott’s eyes never leave mine as he asks the question.
It’s difficult to think of an answer quickly. Watching his fingers with the ball is almost tipping me
over the edge.
Part of me wants to rush over to him and start freeing his dick and balls for a play, as Scott just put
it.
Movement out of the corner of my eye distracts me.
Brad has moved next to my desk as well.
“I bet you have no shortage of balls to choose from.” It’s Brad’s turn.
I decide to play the innocent, sweet little girl.
“Did I mention you both work well as a team?”
They nod.
Scott answers first. “I think you said something about it in the reading.”
“You’re not worried by what Ian said, are you?” Brad leans forward a little, his elbows resting on
the desk. His upper body is bent at the hips, and from where I’m sitting, I have a nice view of his ass.
I pretend to mull over the question, only to feast my eyes for a little longer on Brad’s delicious ass.
“I’m a little worried about him running off to Ed,” I admit. “There’s something going on between
Ed and Ian, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
Scott laughs.
“By something going on, you don’t mean…you know, something going on between the two of
them?”
“Please.” Brad holds up his hand. “Dude, I haven’t had lunch yet, and now I feel like puking.”
The thought is so silly it makes me laugh. I feel myself relax a little. This is good; this feels right.
“No.” I shake my head. “I definitely don’t mean that sort of going on.” I, too, find the image that
comes to mind too disgusting for words.
It’s not that two men together weirds me out. I’m fine with it. I just can’t imagine anyone being that
intimate with Ed.
“I can’t explain it.” I shake my head. I didn’t invite these two sex gods to my office to discuss Ed
and Ian. “It’s for another day.”
“I agree,” Brad says and straightens up. I hide my disappointment. “We shouldn’t waste our time
talking about those two losers.”
Scott nods.
“Back to teamwork.” I steer the conversation back to where I want it to be.
“It’s all fine and good to have teamwork on the set, in front of the camera.” I pause and lick my lips.
“How are you guys with teamwork outside that environment?”
I watch the two men exchange puzzled expressions.
I leave the safety of my desk and make my way toward Brad, who’s still leaning on the other side.
Scott is watching us through narrowed eyes.
I level with Brad and rest my hand on his hand. My fingers trace his fingers. I look from one to the
other.
Realization registers on Scott’s face. He comes over to stand next to me.
“You want to know if I’m a team player? With Brad?” Scott pretends to study Brad. “Of course I’m
a team player, on and off the camera. And if I had to choose who I would want to be on my team, I would
choose Brad, no doubt about it.”
I smile and nod.
“Good. How about you, Brad?”
I look up at him. My hand travels up his arm and draws little circles on his shoulders.
“Like Scott said. Of course I’m a team player, on and off the camera. And who wouldn’t want to be
on Scott’s team? Particularly if you are the—”
He does not finish the sentence.
Smart man.
Feverishly, I try and think what I am on this team. Am I the referee, the ball, the judge, the player, or
the coach? There are so many options, but I can really be only one of those.
“Especially when I’m the coach,” I finish for him.
It’s Scott who grabs me around the waist, lifts me off my feet, and carries me to the couch. Briefly,
I’m taken back to the other day and the canyon run.
This is total madness and so unlike me. I feel lightheaded, as if I’m floating on clouds. Gone is the
prim and proper girl who has never done anything slightly out of the ordinary.
Up until the other day, my sex life has been pretty ordinary.
Amazing how quickly my life has changed.
 Brad doesn’t need a special invitation to come over to the couch. I’m breathing hard, and my nerve
endings are on fire. If one of them doesn’t do something about quenching my sexual appetite, I think I
might burst into flames.
With a sigh, I surrender to what is about to happen.
Angela was so right.
Be creative, and go with the flow.
I enjoy the attention of these two men who want to please me.
 Brad


Are we really doing this?
Just an hour ago I was ready to exchange fists with Scott, and now here we are, alone with Kayla in
her office. Now that’s what I call a good plot twist.
“Kayla,” I start to say, but she shuts me up fast. She closes the distance between us, grabs me by the
shirt and pulls me into her. Next thing I know our lips are locked in a fiery embrace, and my hands are
resting on her hips, making sure she keeps her perfect little body pressed against mine.
When I finally pull back from her kiss, I open up my eyes just in time to see Scott closing in on her.
He places one hand on her waist and leans in, brushing his lips against her neck, his mouth tracing a
straight line toward her ear.
Yeah, I guess we’re doing this.
“Is this what you meant by teamwork?” I ask her with a soft whisper, looking straight into her eyes.
I feel my heart quickening – and my cock becoming as hard as a steel rod – and her lips slowly curl into a
wicked grin. My kind of grin.
“What do you think?” She asks me, an easy laugh escaping her lips.
Taking one step back, she looks from me to Scott and then back. Reaching for us, she flattens the
palm of her hands against our cocks, curling her fingers around our shafts as her grin widens.
“Seems like you’re also eager for some teamwork,” she continues, but I can barely hear what she’s
saying. Right now, the only thing my brain can process is the way her hand feels on my cock.
“I’m more than eager,” I find myself saying, and then I just grab her hand and make her turn on her
heels. Pushing her against the edge of her desk, I then make her sit up on it. With one hand, I throw all the
documents and papers on top of the desk to the floor, my hand sweeping across the surface in a blind
frenzy.
“That’s right,” Scott agrees with me, placing both his hands on her knees. Moving fast, he forces
her to spread her legs and then goes down on one knee in front of her. Following after him, I lower one
knee to the floor.
“What are you guys doing?” She breathes out, and I can tell she doesn’t want to hear a reply – she
wants to see one. And we’re more than happy to oblige.
Moving at the same time, we take our hands to the hem of her skirt and push it up, only stopping
when the fabric’s all bunched up around her waist. I run my tongue between my lips as my eyes meet her
thong, a wet patch already showing on the fabric.
“This is what we’re doing,” I whisper, leaning in and brushing my lips against her right knee. Scott
does the same and, working in tandem, we start making our way up to the wetness between her thighs.
I get there first.
 I take my mouth to her inner thighs, and then I simply can’t help myself – I run the tip of my tongue
over the part where her skin meets the fabric of her wet underwear, the scent of her pussy driving me
completely insane.
“Fuck, I want it,” Scott groans, and without waiting for my reply he just dives in, pressing his open
mouth against Kayla’s drenched thong. He sucks on her pussy over the fabric, and I do the rest – I grab the
elastic band and pull it against her outer thigh, forcing it to snap. The moment the fabric rips apart, Scott
pulls back from Kayla and grabs her thong, ripping it off her body.
“Now this is what I call a lovely sight,” I sigh, my eyes trained on her pink pussy lips, her skin
glistening from how wet she is. Pushing Scott to the side with one shoulder, this time I take the initiative
and dive into her. I part my lips and reach for her clit with the tip of my tongue while, at the same time,
she rests both her hands on my head and grabs me by the hair.
I don’t even know what happens after my tongue touches her clit – she just snaps her legs shut,
throwing them over my shoulders and pushing Scott to the side. Pulling me in, she starts swaying her lips
from side to the side as she rubs her wetness against my face. I keep my mouth open, flicking my tongue at
her as I allow her sweet taste to crawl all the way up to my brain.
I’ve always been the kind of guy that doesn’t mind about going down on a woman (if she earns it),
but it’s different with Kayla. With her, I just can’t help but love every single second of it. Fuck, I could eat
her out for hours and hours. Who cares about lunch when I can feast on the most delicious thing in the
world?
I keep on devouring her pussy for what seems like an eternity – the good kind of eternity, that is –
and, when I open up my eyes and look up at her, I realize she’s already kissing Scott. She still has one
hand on my head, but her other one is busy with Scott’s cock. She has slid it inside his pants, and she’s
flicking her wrist at a fast clip, stroking him as if she had no time to lose.
“Oh, fuck,” she suddenly moans, pulling back from Scott’s kiss and gritting her teeth. Her head is
thrown back, and judging the way the lines in her face are deepening, I’d say she’s just a few seconds
away from having her brains melt off.
Which I don’t mind at all.
In fact, I start working her with my tongue even more furiously than before, lapping at pussy with
renewed strength. Using her hands like hooks, she yanks on my hair while she thrusts against my mouth,
the sweet pressure of her pussy on my face making it so fucking hard that I can’t even think straight.
I have no idea what kind of sorcery Kayla worked on me and Scott, but damn – it’s working.
“OH GOD!” She screams suddenly, and I can almost feel an electric current taking over her pussy
as she comes. I keep my mouth pressed against it as she surrenders to her first orgasm of the day, but I
slow down the pace of my tongue. I want her to survive what’s to come…
After all, there’s so much more we can do.
Teamwork, right?
 Kayla


The name’s Kayla, and I’m a bad girl.
Or, according to Angela, I’m still a good girl – I just seem to enjoy being with two men at the same
time. And, really, what’s not to enjoy? Brad and Scott are the most perfect men I’ve ever encountered, and
both of them want me. This is Heaven. Sure, outside this office, real life is waiting for the three of us, I
know that.
But, right now, I just want to go with the flow.
“Oh, Jesus, that was impressive,” I moan, taking my legs off from Brad’s shoulders. I lean back
over the desk, propping myself up on my elbows, and smile as I watch Brad go up to his feet.
His lips are glistening from my juices, and I can’t think of a more perfect sight right now. Besides,
the way he eats me out…oh, God. I never even knew that I could come that hard just by having a man’s
tongue taking over my pussy. But then again, Brad and Scott aren’t just any men – they’re in a category of
their own.
“Seems like you enjoyed yourself,” Scott laughs, the flames of lust burning behind his eyes.
“I did,” I purr, pushing myself off the desk and resting my hands on their chest.
Without waiting for them to say a thing, I go down on my knees and hook my fingers on their belts.
Working fast, I take their belts off and then unzip their pants, their cocks straining against the fabric of
their boxer briefs.
Seriously, I can’t believe I’m about to do this.
“Let’s see what you got, boys,” I continue to purr, and then I tug on their boxers and the same time
and free their huge cocks, both of them as hard as they’ve ever been. Reaching for them, I grip them tight
and then start moving my hand up and down the length of their shafts, stroking them at a slow rhythm. Of
course, that rhythm doesn’t stay slow for long – before I know it, I’m flicking my wrist so fast that I feel
pain shoot up my arm. But I keep at it, looking from one to the other as I take care of their throbbing
members.
“I want a taste,” I continue, tilting my head sideways and leaning in. Going for Scott first, I part my
lips with the tip of my tongue and lay it against his cock. Then, I run my tongue down the whole length of
his shaft, only stopping when my lips brush against his balls.
I do the same with Brad, and I keep at it for a few seconds, going from one man to the other and
teasing them. Then, without a warning, I simply let go of Scott’s cock and open my mouth as wide as I can
– I wrap my lips around the tip of his cock and take his whole length into my mouth, the way his shaft
presses down on my tongue making me even more wet than before.
“My turn,” Brad says, grabbing me by the hair and forcing me to take Scott’s cock out of my mouth.
Directing my movements, he leads me straight toward his cock and, using one hand, he brushes its tip
between my lips. I open my mouth by instinct and then he just thrusts, driving his huge member all the way
to the back of my throat.
Now, I know every girl fantasizes about what it’d be like to be with two men at the same time…but
this is completely surreal.
I always thought that fantasies such as these were supposed to be kept locked in a vault deep inside
my mind. But now, I’m having seconds thoughts. Maybe these fantasies are meant to be lived. Because,
really, this beats everything I’ve ever done before.
“More, I want more. I need more,” I suddenly tell them both, Brad’s cock popping out of my mouth.
“I want it all,” I continue, my movements as lustful as they’re desperate.
I push their pants and boxers down to their ankles, and they help out by kicking off their shoes.
Then, they take off their shirts as fast as they can and I simply gaze at their naked bodies, my brain
suddenly freezing.
This is happening, this is happening, I repeat over and over again inside my head. This isn’t a
dream.
Taking a deep breath, I let instinct take over.
I reach for Brad’s hand and push on it, forcing him to go down on one knee in front of me. The
moment he’s level with me, I simply place my hands on his shoulders and push, force him to lay down. I
go up to my feet fast, kick off my heels and push my skirt down my legs.
“I’ll help,” I hear Scott say, and then I feel his large hands pulling on my blouse. I raise my heads as
he takes off my blouse and bra, and then I simply go for the kill.
I place my feet on either side of Brad’s thighs, and then I lower myself. Grabbing his cock, I angle
it up; there’s no buildup this time. I simply ease myself down onto his cock, arching my back as I feel his
thickness pushing its way past my inner lips.
“Fuck,” he groans, all his fingers digging deep into the flesh of my ass. Rocking my body back and
forth, I start riding him as hard as I can right from the beginning. The time for teasing is over – now’s the
time for action.
“Teamwork, remember?” I hear Scott say, and I open my eyes to see him standing by my side,
grabbing his hard cock with one hand.
Before I even think of what I’m doing, I simply lean into him and take his length into my mouth. I
start bobbing my head back and forth, using the same rhythm with which I’m riding Brad, and I can
already feel that sweet pressure building up inside of me.
I don’t last long.
“Mmm,” I moan, the sound muffled by Scott’s cock. My pussy tightens up around Brad’s shaft, and I
feel a firestorm making its way up my spine, a whirlwind of electric flames consuming every single
thought inside my mind as I come for the second time today.
Had I known a threesome would be this good, there would have been no debate before.
Bad girl or good girl, I don’t care..
 Scott


“Mmm,” she moans, and I feel the vibration making its way through my cock, her lips still wrapped
tight around my shaft.
Fuck, I never thought I’d see Kayla like this – riding Brad with my cock deep inside her mouth.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think that something like this would be possible. Hell, even if I knew it
to be possible, I doubt I’d believe one day I’d be willing to share a woman like this. Especially a woman
like Kayla.
I don’t know what it is about her, but I simply can’t see her as just a fling. No, there’s more to her
than that. Sure, she’s the hottest woman I’ve ever been with, and she sure as hell knows how to drive a
man out of his mind…but it goes beyond the obvious. She’s smart, funny, and I like the person I become
whenever I’m around her.
Soon enough I’ll be writing love poems and shit.
“Alright, let’s kick this up a notch,” I find myself saying, and my voice sounds foreign to my own
ears.
Right now, I’m not in control of anything I’m saying or doing. I’m just living in the present moment,
enjoying the ride without thinking of the consequences. Not a good way to lead your life, I guess, but it’s
the perfect way to do things when it comes to sex. At least that’s my philosophy.
“Please,” Kayla moans as I take my cock out of her mouth. Her hands are on Brad’s chest and, even
though she just came, she doesn’t climb down from him. No matter, right now I’m in the mood for sharing.
“Stay there,” I tell Kayla, and she looks at me, her eyes wide with anticipation. Smiling at her, I
stand between Brad’s legs and then go down to my knees right behind her. Placing one hand right between
her shoulder blades, I force her to bend forward and I hold my breath as I stare at her perfectly shaped
ass.
“Oh, God,” she breathes out as, with just one finger, I start caressing the length of her crack. I stop
for a moment on her ass hole, and then I start sliding my finger in, readying her up for the main event.
“Please, Scott, please,” she insists, and I just take my finger out of her ass and replace it with the
tip of my cock.
“Is this what you want?” I ask her, leaning in and whispering these words against her. “Is this how
you want us to fuck you?”
“Yes, yes…more than anything!”
“I can’t say no to a lady,” I whisper. Using both my hands, I spread her ass cheeks wide and start
sliding my cock inside her ass. I throw my head back and close my eyes as I feel her tightness. Even
though I go slower, I only stop when all of me is inside her.
“So…so good,” she moans, her quivering voice making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
Well, if she thinks this is good…it’s about to become so much better.
Ever so slowly, I start rocking my hips, making my cock slide in and out of her at a steady tempo.
She doesn’t seem to want a slow tempo, though – instead of handing all control to me, she starts rocking
her body softly, working on Brad’s cock while I take her from behind.
Kayla might not look like it at a first glance, but she’s fucking insatiable.
And that’s exactly the way I want her to be.
Hungry for my cock.
Using one hand, I grab her hair and force her to throw her head back. Holding her like that, I start
ramming her hard, my thighs slapping her ass over and over again, the sound of it echoing inside the office
and my own mind. Fuck, I think I’ll dream of this sound when I go to bed tonight.
While I thrust, Brad does the exact same thing, pistoning into Kayla and raving her pussy while I
take care of her tight ass. We work as one, our three bodies connected by the raging lust coursing through
our veins.
My hands have turned into claws, and now I have both on Kayla’s hips, keeping her in place while
Brad and I fuck her into perfect oblivion. She’s no longer moaning – she’s screaming now, the sound of
her voice so shrill that I can’t help but wonder if anyone can hear us outside the office. Luckily, everyone
has left for their lunch break, which means we’re pretty much alone and Kayla can scream as much as she
wants to.
“HARDER!” She shouts at the top of her lungs, and Brad and I don’t hesitate.
We start going as hard as is humanely possible, our cocks completely demolishing her body. Beads
of sweat drip down my forehead, stinging at my eyes, but I don’t give a fuck; right now I have one concern
only, and that’s giving Kayla the best fucking orgasm of her entire life.
“Don’t…” She doesn’t even finish her sentence. One violent thrust and she comes undone, arching
her back and collapsing on top of Brad’s body.
Every single muscle in her body seems to be twitching, and she’s no longer moaning or screaming.
She has resigned herself to silence, one born out of pleasure.
Still, Brad and I aren’t done.
While she comes, we keep on thrusting as hard as we can. Not that I can do it for much longer – I
can already feel the fire of ecstasy burning deep inside me, and I know it won’t take long until I unleash
all of my load inside Kayla’s ass.
“Fuck,” I groan, my train of thought derailing as I feel my cock spasming hard inside Kayla. Brad
groans something at the same time, and next thing I know I’m coming, my fingers digging deep into her ass
cheeks and my eyes rolling in their orbits.
Fuck, my purpose was to give Kayla the best orgasm of her life, but I think this was the best fucking
orgasm of our lives.
 Brad


While I get dressed for the morning, getting ready for a long day at work, I can hear Shauna click-
clacking on her laptop in the other room. She’s a “heavy-typer.” I’ve known a few, and it always makes
me laugh.
She’s no doubt doing her morning routine, searching and reading the blogs for juicy gossip.
Some people find it odd that my personal assistant lives at my penthouse apartment, but that’s how I
fucking roll. I don’t like to waste a single minute of my day, and if that means having Shauna live here
rent-free, so be it. She doesn’t seem to mind, not even when I bring the odd girl home.
As I put on my watch, a Rolex, I imagine what kind of day I’m going to have. Good? Bad?
Exciting? Boring? The possibilities alone are electrifying.
I’m a doer. I don’t find enjoyment in reading about what other people do. Especially not like
Shauna does; she loves all that crap. But her ability to keep a finger on the pulse of this town is one of the
reasons I hired her.
Shauna’s smart and savvy and remembers everything she reads. I’m lucky to have her. Truly
fortunate.
I look at myself in the mirror. What a day yesterday was. It’s going to be hard to forget.
I feel myself becoming aroused. I stroke myself over my pants a few times, look at my watch, and
start considering what I have time for.
“Hey, Shauna, how’s my time?”
“Looking good, Brad.”
“Do I have an extra fifteen or twenty? What do you think?”
I hear her typing away for a moment.
“Checking the traffic. Looks like there’s a minor traffic accident on the highway. I’m thinking not,”
she replied. “We’re gonna need an extra few to get in on time.”
I stop stroking myself and sigh. “Okay, thanks.” I’m going to have to wait until I see Kayla again.
Maybe after lunch, I think, smirking.
While tying my shoes, I hear Shauna groan or moan or something. She’s clearly affected in some
way by something she’s reading. This isn’t out of the normal, but after yesterday, I’m feeling a little
paranoid.
“Find something juicy?” I’m just teasing. I don’t expect her to answer, and I kinda hope she won’t.
“You could say…”
“Really?”
“Um…yeah…”
I’m done getting ready. I walk out of my bedroom to the kitchen area. I see her staring, reading, and
in deep thought.
“Shauna?”
“Yes, Brad?”
When she finally looks at me, I wave.
“Oh,” she says, smiling. “Good choices. I like those colors on you. I think this outfit shows your
serious side.”
“Thanks.” I nod. “What did you find?”
“Find?”
“Online.”
“Oh, right.” Her face goes back to its normal blankness. “How have things been with Kayla?
Everything working out? Moving along?”
“Things are going well. Fine,” I say, not feeling like elaborating at the moment. “Yeah, fine.”
“Better than fine, I’d wager.”
“Okay. Better than fine. Why?”
“Much better than fine,” she says, winking.
I’m catching her drift. She knows something, but she’s being too shy to say it. I walk up to the
breakfast nook where she’s sitting and pick up the apple she left there for me.
“You found something. What did you read, Shauna?”
“Just a couple of lines. A blind item. Nothing big….”
“But…”
“But there promises to be more.” She shrugs. “Sorry, boss.”
I take a deep breath. I’m trying to control my anger. It’s a battle, and I’m not winning.
“Show me,” I tell her.
Shauna turns her laptop to the side so I can see the screen. There, on one of the worst celebrity
trashing blogs, is a headline about me and Kayla. I can hardly fucking believe it. “LONG LUNCHES.
LONGER STARES. WHAT HAPPENS NEXT…”
“Fuck,” I say loudly.
Shauna does her best to deflect. “It could be about anything.”
My voice grows louder. “Fuck!”
“Maybe it’s nothing.” She tries to ease my anger.
But inside, I’m already a burning inferno of rage. “Fuck!”
I throw the apple across the room, striking a wall and knocking a framed painting off its hook.
“Brad—” Shauna begins.
“These fucking idiots, Shauna,” I say, beginning to pace. “Insiders. Paparazzi. Fucking fame
seekers. What the fuck do they know? What the fuck do they want?”
“They want money.”
 “I don’t need this shit. I don’t need this attention. Not now. Fuck. Not now.”
“It’s probably nothing,” Shauna repeats. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What happens next…” I reread the headline. “Shauna, what if they know what happened next?”
“What happened?” Shauna asked.
I give her a look. She knows the look. It’s the one I give when I’m about to get laid, or just did.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Well…”
“Yeah.” I shake my head. “Fuck!”
“I could make some calls.”
“You know what pisses me off the most, Shauna?” I ask, but I don’t wait for a response. “Kayla
really doesn’t need this. She doesn’t need any negative press right now. She’s just getting started. Just
getting her stride. She’s better than these dumb blogs. She doesn’t need this. Fuck. If this hurts her career,
I’ll—”
“Brad.”
I look at Shauna. She has her glasses on, she’s sitting up straight, and her lips are drawn. She looks
like my middle school vice principal when she was about to doll out a punishment.
“Yes?”
“I will make some calls. I will track down the sources. I’ll see if I can’t squash this before it goes
anywhere.”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
“The blood stays on my hands, Brad. That is why you hired me.”
I finally laugh. Shauna lightens the mood. I really appreciate her being able to do so.
“Yes, that’s why I hired you.” I look at the oven clock; it’s getting late. “That and your skills as a
getaway driver.”
“Oh shit.”
I pick up the keys and toss them to her. She catches them with ease. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever
seen her drop them.
Shauna rarely drops anything. I’m beginning to feel more confident by the second. Shauna will take
care of this.
Kayla will be fine.
Everything will be fine.
 Kayla


The jackhammer that has been working away in my head all morning seems to be increasing in
intensity. I can’t believe we’ve been going over the same scene for the last hour.
Every time I think it’s been a take, Derrick insists it needs to be done again.
Rehearsals have never been this hard.
Last time, he didn’t like the vase on the kitchen table with flowers, which only ended up there
because ten minutes earlier, he had insisted the kitchen needed to look a little brighter. Not to mention the
number of times we have to stop to prompt Ian for his lines.
I will need to go and find aspirin or something similar on the next break; there’s no way I’m going
to get through the day with this massive headache.
“You’re meant to be annoyed. The line is ‘Why does he get all the fun?’ It’s not hard.” I call to Ian
and stomp closer to the set.
This man is really driving me up the wall. A cockroach would be more useful right now than this
bumbling excuse for an actor.
I see Ian glare at me. There’s something else in his eyes, something I haven’t seen before.
“If you bothered to learn your lines, we wouldn’t need to stop every five seconds.” I flick through
the pages on my e-reader.
“Brad comes in and picks on you,” I tell him, looking at the script.
Scott chuckles, and Brad whispers something to him. Briefly, I’m distracted and lose my
momentum.
“And then,” I say and turn my attention back on Ian. “And then you say the seven itty-bitty words I
just told you.” I lower my device and put one hand on my hips. “Brad and Scott are able to learn their
lines and do the take without interruption. Why can’t you?”

Perhaps I have overstepped my mark, but I can’t keep my anger bottled up any longer. Someone has
to tell this pompous ass he is useless like tits on a bull.
“Scott and Brad.” Ian mimics me.
My insides feel as though they are going to boil over.
“Instead of being the idiot on the set, you should focus on your acting. I mean, have you even read
and studied your lines, or do you just turn up to annoy us?”
“Like you three studied lines the other day at lunch?”
My brow furrows, and I count to three before I feel I can open my mouth again.
“We all know who the blind piece in the gossip column was about, don’t we?” Ian continues.
I don’t want to lose self-control, but at the same time, I cannot let Ian get away with this. If the vase
had still been standing on the kitchen table of the set, I would reach for it now, but one of the prop guys
has moved it already.
Before I can say or do anything, Scott’s fist collides with Ian’s face.
“No need to get personal,” he hisses at Ian who crumples into a heap on the floor.
He doesn’t stay down long.
Quick as lightning, Ian is on his feet again and lunges at Scott.
Scott is nimble on his feet, and he avoids the forward-moving Ian.
It’s Brad who receives a wayward swing from Ian’s flailing arms.
I scream. Chairs are being pushed over; one of the lights crashes onto the floor, and splinters of
glass explode on impact and scatter across the set.
“Stop it,” I yell into the chaos.
Brad swings a left-handed hook at Ian’s chin.
Ian ducks, and it is Brad who is unbalanced.
The spindly figure of Ian lunges at Brad, spurred by some invisible force. His arms wrap around
his waist, and it appears as if he’s trying to push him across the set.
Scott comes to Brad’s assistance.
For a few seconds, I can’t work out what is happening. Three bodies go tumbling onto the floor.
Prop guys are moving quickly between the fighting men to move precious filming equipment out of the
way.
“Stop it,” I scream again. There’s no denying I enjoy seeing Ian get his ass kicked, but I know
violence doesn’t solve anything.
I turn to Derrick. “Do something,” I demand from the director, who so far has not moved out of his
chair.
With four large strides, he is at the rolling mass of bodies.
I’m not sure how he manages to separate the bundles of testosterone, but he does.
Ian is breathing hard, and blood is trickling down his chin. His lip is split, and I can see a bruise
forming around his right eye.
Makeup will have their work cut out to get him ready for filming.
“Gentlemen.” Derrick keeps his hand on Ian, who looks like he wants to kill Brad and Scott. “Let’s
take a break. We need to clean up the set.”
He makes no comment about the incident or what consequences will flow from it. I admire his calm
manner. The man is a total professional.
I see Ian hesitate.
He turns to leave.
“You’ll be sorry.” His comment is directed at me.
I feel Brad come to stand to my left, and Scott to my right.
 “You’ll be sorry you insulted me. Ed will hear about this, and you’ll be sorry.”
I take a step forward toward Ian. He doesn’t scare me.
“Newsflash, dickhead,” I yell at him. “I’m already sorry I’m in this mess. I’m sorry I have to work
with you.”
I watch him leave.
Part of me wants to laugh. I know I should take his threat seriously, but with his fat lip, he sounded
less than threatening.
His words did not come out clear, and he just looked pathetic and not menacing at all.
I feel Brad’s hand on my shoulders.
I turn toward them.
“You okay?”
I nod. Now that I see the total destruction of the set, the seriousness of what just happened descends
on me like a giant weight.
Ed won’t be happy.
This won’t be the last of it either. And he will use this to pressure me into killing one of my men.
 Kayla


I pick up my coffee cup and take a large sip of the hot black liquid. After I swallow, I smack my
lips together. Boy, this feels good.
Angela, sitting across from me, is sipping on a large iced chocolate. The drink is overflowing with
whipped cream.
“Mm, whipped cream. Imagine all the things you can do with whipped cream,” Angela says and
grins at me.
“Stop it.” I try to sound serious. “Focus. I need you to listen. I can’t understand how my life
suddenly has become so complicated,” I complain and drink more of my coffee.
Laughter peels from Angela’s lips. She puts her tall glass down and leans back in her chair.
“You’re kidding, right?”
I pretend to scowl at her.
“I mean it, Ange. All I wanted to do was to come to LA and write. Head down, bum up.”
“You’ve sure put your bum up,” teases Angela, and I regret my choice of words.
“Stop it. You know what I mean.” I roll my eyes.
There’s more laughter from my best friend.
“Lighten up, sweetheart,” she chides and leans forward to sip her iced chocolate.
I run both hands through my hair.
“The whole thing’s just crazy. My life’s crazy. Maybe I’m crazy.”
“Everyone in LA is crazy, Kayla. You should know that by now. That’s the attraction of the place. I
mean, all this craziness zooming around this place and colliding with each other makes LA what it is.
That’s why people come to live here, that’s why we live here.”
I groan. I’m not sure she’s right.
“What about all this stuff that’s been going on?” I persist. My bones have been rattled to the core.
“What stuff?”
I fold my arms in front of my chest. “The stuff with Ian and Scott and Brad.”
“Be more specific for me, babe, would you?”
Only my best friend is allowed to call me babe. If a man had just called me that, I would have
kicked him between the legs.
I’m not sure if she’s trying to be helpful by asking questions or if she really doesn’t understand my
problem.
“You know,” I try again. “Ian’s going to run to Ed and complain, and now Ed will come to me and
let his anger out on me.”
Angela shrugs.
 “Has anyone else complained about you?”
I think about her question for a minute. At the same time, I watch the movement and color of LA. We
are seated in the outside area of the Rest A While café.
From where we are seated, we can see people pass by—they’re on their way home, to a hot date,
or some other engagement. Some people are laughing, others have their heads down, and others again look
straight ahead, earphones in their ears and their expressions vacant.
I imagine most of them lead fairly uncomplicated lives.
Wouldn’t it be nice to be one of these passers-by who do not seem to have a care in the world?
“Earth to Kayla.” I hear Angela’s voice. Startled, I look at her.
“Has anyone else complained about you?” she repeats her question. She’s speaking slowly,
enunciating each word.
“Sorry.” I smile. “I drifted off.”
“Drifted, alright.”
“I haven’t heard about any other complaints.” I don’t tell her about Brad complaining that we need
to repeat our antics of the other day. I doubt Angela would class it as the sort of complaint she was asking
about.
“So what are you worried about exactly?” She signals the waiter. “I feel like something fatty and
sweet.”
I laugh.
“How do you do it?”
“Do what?” Angela asks with total innocence.
“Eat all that fat and sugar and stay super slim.”
Her right hand waves in a dismissive fashion. “It’s easy. Plenty of sex.”
We both burst out laughing.
“And then there’s the gossip piece,” I continue and watch Angela take a forkful of chocolate cake.
“It could really hurt my career.”
I’ve been worried about the effect of the piece in the gossip column since I’ve read it.
“You worry too much.”
“I worry just the right amount,” I counter.
“What’s wrong with a bit of gossip? Haven’t you heard the saying ‘Any publicity is good
publicity’?”
I shake my head. “I doubt that applies to the type along the lines of head writer engages in
threesome with two of her stars.”
“Why not?”
Angela is really unbelievable. I wish I had some of her attitude when it comes to what people think
about me.
 “It’s that bad girl stuff. Only bad girls have threesomes. I think it might affect my reputation.”
“It’s about spin. If you put a positive spin on it, it won’t give you a bad reputation. And you’re
totally wrong—good girls have threesomes as well. Threesomes are all inclusive.”
Lost for a reply, I pinch some of her cake.
“It’s about time you stand up for yourself and what you believe in. You can’t just let people trample
all over you. You need to stand up to Ed, and you need to work out if you want to continue to bang your
two leads. And if you do, stand up for your personal choice too.”
She continues, “Just because you choose something different, doesn’t make it wrong. If you want to
fuck two guys at the same time, that’s your choice. But don’t be ashamed about it.”
“Shush, not so loud. I don’t need another blind piece written about it.” I’m sure I’ve gone bright
red.
Angela swallows before she replies. “If I was in your shoes, I’d be shouting it from the top of the
Hollywood sign in the hills.”
She takes another bite of cake. “I’d probably write my own gossip column about it to make sure the
facts are right.”
The image of Angela doing this makes me laugh. Bad girl Angela, afraid of nothing.
I know she’s right.
Of course, I know she’s right. I do need to stand up for what I want and for what I believe in. Deep
down, I agree with my best friend.
Unfortunately, it sounds easier in theory than it is to do in practice.
 Scott


I jog up the driveway and bang on Kayla’s door. I run my hand through my hair and hope she’s
home.
I need to see her and make sure she’s okay. I still can’t believe the way Ian fucking speaks to her.
She’s such a great chick, smart, with an ass to die for, and all-around gorgeous.
Just thinking about her makes me horny.
“Hi.”
I didn’t notice her open the door. Now that she’ standing in front of me in that skimpy dress, the
hemline just covering her ass, I’m lost for words…briefly.
“Hey.” I smile my most charming smile.
“Want to come in?”
Do I ever?
“If it’s okay?” I play it cool. I don’t want to frighten her. She looks so vulnerable.
I just want to wrap my arms around her and protect her. Well, there are other things I want to do to
her as well, but they might happen later.
“Of course it’s okay.” Kayla takes a step back and invites me in. “It’s more than okay,” she adds as
I walk past her.
“Coffee? Water? Beer? Wine?”
My insides melt as I watch her make her way into the kitchen. Her butt wiggles from side to side,
and I can’t get enough of looking at those gorgeous legs of hers.
“What are you having?”
Kayla gets on her tiptoes and reaches for a glass in her top shelve. As she does so, I watch her
dress ride up a little, and I feel a stirring between my legs.
“Easy, boy,” I say and keep feasting my eyes on her ass. I have to restrain myself from grabbing her
and pushing my dick into her pussy, right here, right now. “Everything in good time” I tell myself.
“Bubbles,” she replies and turns back to face me with two tall glasses in her hand.
“Me too.”
After I get to watch her bend over to retrieve a bottle out of the fridge and catch a glimpse of her G-
string, my cock is ready for action. Fuck, this chick is hot and knows how to push my buttons.
I follow Kayla into the living room where she drapes her curvy body over the lounge. She pats the
spot next to me, and I sit down.
“You okay after the shoot the other day?” I ask and watch her. I love the little dimples in her cheek
when she smiles.
She shrugs.
 “Ed’s not going to take it well.” It’s more of an observation than a question. “And Ian will probably
become even harder to work with.”
“I can handle Ed.” I sound more confident than I feel. The punch might have just handed someone
the perfect reason for me being the one killed off.
I don’t want to be the one who gets the chop. I want to keep working with Kayla. I hadn’t realized
before how bad I want to stay on the show for this woman’s sake.
Ces’t la vie, I think, as long as they don’t punish my Kayla for it. Her career shouldn’t suffer at the
hands of fuckwits like Ed and Ian.
“What’s so funny?”
Kayla’s question leaves me a little embarrassed. I can’t tell her I just thought of her in terms of
mine.
“The look on Ian’s face when my fist collided with his.” It’s true—that was funny and very
satisfying.
“I have to say,” Kayla tells me, taking a sip of her drink. “It was good to see. He is such a…” she
pauses, obviously looking for the right word.
“Dick,” I provide for her.
She laughs.
I love the way she laughs. She throws her head back just a little, exposing her sensuous neck—a
neck I just want to smother in kisses.
“I didn’t want to upset you,” I say.
Kayla laughs.
“You didn’t. I mean, it felt good to see him get what he deserves.”
My left hand moves from the couch onto her outstretched leg. I love the feel of her soft skin.
“At least tomorrow there won’t be gossip about you or Brad.” I keep stroking her leg. “The focus
will be on the punch I threw.”
To underline my point, I throw the punch into the air with my right hand.
“It’s not the press, Scott. It’s Ed. Ed’s going to be furious.” Kayla leans back against the seat of the
couch. “Ed will make us pay.”
“Ed...Ed can get fucked.”
Kayla laughs again.
“How’s your hand?”
I love how she sounds so sincere, like she really cares. And I think she does care.
I hold out my right hand and pretend to examine it.
“It’s fine. I’ve done worse during workouts. Ian’s soft all over, even in the head.”
Kayla lifts her head and shifts position. She moves closer to me. Slowly, deliberately, she takes my
hand.
 Little butterfly kisses cover my hand. If this is how she thanks me, I must punch Ian more often.
She stops, and I want to push her head back down, maybe even farther down than my hand.
“I just want to thank you for,” she pauses, “standing up for me like that. You were awesome.”
Her eyes practically melt my insides. Gosh, she’s hot.
“It’s okay,” I mutter and notice how dry my mouth suddenly feels.
Kayla gets off the couch and repositions herself on top of me, her legs on either side of me.
Involuntary, my hands rest on her hips.
Kayla smiles and wiggles on me from side to side. My insides start to burn with desire.
Before I know it, her lips are on mine. They are soft, sensual, and needy. I open my mouth and
invite her tongue to find mine.
As we kiss, I hear her little groans. My left hand leaves her hips and pushes under her short skirt to
find her wet pussy.
Her lips are pushing down on mine, and her kiss becomes even more intense, if that’s even
possible.
My other hand finds its way to her breasts and starts playing with her nipples.
Thank god I’ve come to check on how she is.
 Kayla


We lock lips.
Surrendering to his embrace, I start kissing him eagerly. I don’t want to waste one single second.
No, I want to seize the moment and squeeze it for all it’s worth, not giving a moment’s thought to
everything that’s been going on.
I want him. Now.
“Fuck, why do I want you so bad?” He whispers, his lips brushing against mine as he speaks.
Getting up from the couch, he carries me in his arms and starts walking across the living room. Without
taking my eyes off his, I point him toward the bedroom and he makes his way there.
The moment he puts me down, my lips found their way to his once more.
“Take it off…take it off,” I tell him, breathing harder and harder as I grab the fabric of his shirt.
He smiles. I start unbuttoning his shirt, my fingers moving fast as the desire takes over me. Pulling
the shirt out from his pants, I then press the palm of my hands against his walls of abs, feeling their
contour under my fingers as my pussy starts growing wet.
“Kayla…” Scott whispers as his shirt slides down his arms to the floor. With one hand on the nape
of my neck, he tangles his fingers on my hair and holds me still. Leaning into me once, he brushes his lips
against mine. We kiss heartily, our tongues slow dancing around one another as I press my body against
his.
“I want you…” he continues.
I feel his cock hardening inside his pants, its bulging shape brushing against my inner thigh, helping
me become even wetter. Ah, if we were already naked, I’d just grab his cock and guide it towards my
pussy…
I move my fingers down to his belt, unbuckling it in a frenzied hurry. Pulling it from its loops, I then
open the top button on his pants and push the zipper down. His cock strains against the fabric of his boxer
briefs, and I feel a shiver going up my spine as my knuckles brush against that throbbing thickness of his.
Hooking my fingers on the fabric of his boxer briefs, I send them down his legs with his pants.
Falling to my knees on the floor at the same time, I look up at Scott, the shadow of his cock falling over
my face.
My hands climb up his legs and to his waist, my eyes not leaving his for one simple second. His
cock his throbbing, almost jumping in place as if begging for me to touch it. And I do want it. I want it so
bad it hurts.
Instead of attacking his cock straight away, first I deal with his shoes: untying them, I take them off
his feet one at a time, and then I take off his pants and boxer briefs.
I take a moment to gaze at his naked body, and then my fingers curl around his hard cock and my
hand goes up and down, deliciously savoring each inch of his member.
He grabs my head with both hands, guiding my mouth to his cock. I part my lips and, in an instant,
the salty flavor of his shaft fills my mouth. My tongue traces a long and gentle circle around its tip before I
allow myself to go deeper.
I open my mouth and let him slide in. His girth forces me to open wide, his length making the
descent down his cock an almost never ending voyage. I go as far as I can and look up, imagining what’s
going through his head.
The moment I feel my lips brushing against the skin at the base of his cock, I close my eyes and start
bobbing my head up and down my length, doing it so fast that I almost can feel my brain moving inside my
head. He lets out a groan. I go fast, and I go hard – I fucking know what I’m doing.
“Oh, that feels really good,” I hear him say, but I’m so lost in what I’m doing that his voice feels
it’s coming at me from the other side of the room. I keep on sucking on him for a long time, and then I
wrap my fingers around his cock and start sucking and stroking at the same time, my mouth and hands
working as a unit.
A long and deep sigh escapes his mouth and I lower the pace, only to speed up once more. He grabs
a handful of my hair, pressing my head down, his shaft almost against the back of my throat, and he holds
it there for a second.
I press my tongue against his cock and pull my head back, allowing his cock to slide out gently. I
still want to feel his taste on my mouth, so I lick his shaft and the pre-cum on his tip, while my hand keeps
working his cock with the same rhythm I had used with my mouth.
Then I approach his tip again and fill my mouth with his pulsing length. Right now, I’m stroking him
fast and sucking him hard.
It doesn’t take long for his cock to start pulsing against the inner side of my mouth and, knowing that
he’s close, I push through the pain on my neck and keep going as hard as humanly possible.
I just want him to come inside my mouth.
His fingers curl against my scalp and, with one deep thrust, he comes into my mouth. It’s warm and
salty, and as it gushes in a torrent inside my mouth, I can feel my skin prickling. I remain there, his
spasming cock inside of me as he shoots his seed until my mouth is completely filled – both with his cock
and his cum.
When his fingers on my head relax, I start pulling out, tightening my lips around his cock on the way
out. He’s breathing hard and there’s a grin of satisfaction on his face.
Still looking him in the eyes, I swallow all his seed. His face lights up with a devious grin and he
takes my hand in his, pulling me up to my feet.
“You’re fucking amazing, Kayla,” he whispers, leaning toward me. He grabs me, holding both
hands around my waist, and lays me down on the bed.
His hands slide around my waist and under my dress, climbing up my inner thigh and making my
skin prickle again. His fingers brush over my groin and, if I was wet before, I become completely
drenched now.
I close my eyes, moving my hips harder and grinding against him almost desperately. A moan
leaves my lips as he brushes his fingers over my thong, applying a gentle and barely noticeable pressure
over my wet pussy.
One of his hands climbs up my side and crawls towards my chest, finding its way under my dress
and cupping my right breast over the bra. He pulls at the cup, baring my nipple, and he presses it then
between two fingers, pinching it. I rest my forehead against the mattress, biting down on my lower lip as a
storm of lust rages inside of me.
Still pinching my nipple, he flicks my thong to the side and brushes the tip of his finger against my
wet pussy. My whole body shudders in anticipation.
He traces the contour of my pussy as if he wants to absorb all of it, carefully brushing against its
outline and gentle circling my clit.
He does it for one minute, carefully coming and going, each time applying just a little bit more of
pressure.
Then, without any kind of warning he slides one finger inside my pussy. Instinctively I push my hips
against his hand, eager for the touch of his hands and body against my pussy.
Before I can even gasp, his mouth is wrapped tight against my pussy, and he starts sucking there as
if he has been thinking of doing it all day long.
I put one leg over his shoulder as he licks at me and, now having a better angle, he slides two
fingers inside of me in an instant. I gasp, closing my eyes as I press my back into the bed, thrusting my
pussy against his mouth as he fingers me.
Pulling out from me, he pushes the thong down my legs and I just kick it away to the corner; his
mouth is on me again, devouring me with such intensity that I can barely keep my eyes open.
Sliding one more finger inside me, he keeps fingering me until my pussy starts to spasms and
becomes tighter; immediately he presses his tongue over my clit and, moving it in circles, he makes my
muscles burn in under a second.
And just like that, I come.
“I’m going to fuck you really hard, Kayla”, he says, pulling out his fingers from my drenched pussy.
That´s all I wanted to hear.
 Scott


“Are you ready to go again?” she asks me with a provocative tone. She gets up quickly and goes on
all fours on top of the mattress, shaking her delicious ass in front of me.
I don’t answer her. I just grin and place my hands around her waist and pull her harshly toward me.
She juts her ass me, pressing it against my body, and I have to close my eyes as I feel her wetness
so dangerously close to my cock. Swaying her hips from side to side, she grabs her dress, keeping it up on
her waist, and grinds against my cock as hard as she can. I pull back before she can complain, though, my
hand goes directly to her dress tugging on it with hurried movements. I grab the zipper of her dress and
start pushing it all the way down. Then, she presses her legs together as I pull the fabric down her legs; at
the same time, she takes off her bra.
I lean toward her and with both of my hands I give her breasts a hard squeeze.
With my chest on her back, the outline of my muscles pressed against her skin, she starts rocking her
ass against me once again. She darts her hands back trying to reach my cock.
Grabbing my cock, she guides it toward her pussy, but I pull back. I’m going to make her suffer for
a little while. Over her shoulder, she looks back at me with an impatient face. She wants to be fucked
now, to feel my whole length inside of her. And that´s exactly what I’ll do.
In an instant.
Still with her on all fours, I lean in and take my mouth to her pussy. I kiss her inner lips gently and
then start moving my tongue up and down; at the same time, I gently insert one finger inside her – and then
two fingers – and start to move them in and out of her. She’s so wet her juices are flowing down her legs.
Still fingering her, I start tracing a path with my tongue toward her ass crack. When I lightly touch
her hole, she allows a heavy moan to escape her mouth and her whole body shivers with pleasure.
Right now, I’m doing more than just teasing Kayla – I’m teasing myself as well. I’m so fucking
hard. I need to feel the warmth of her pussy around my cock.
Pulling my fingers out of her, I slap her ass hard enough for her to moan and bite her lower lip. She
half-expects me to smack her ass again, but the next thing she feels is my thick cock pressing against her
pussy. She pushes her ass backwards by instinct and I bury my cock in her to the hilt.
I’m not being gentle.
I start to thrust at her like a hungry ferocious beast, each movement I make drawing a high-pitched
scream out of her lips.
Leaving one hand on her waist, I reach for her breasts, feeling her hard nipples against the palm of
my hands. I squeeze her right breast as I pound her hard, each time going faster than before.
“Harder!” She screams. “Harder, Scott! Don’t stop!” she continues, bucking her ass back at me, my
thighs slapping hard on her ass cheeks and my balls on her pussy.
 I piston into her mercilessly, my cock going in and out her at full speed.
“Don’t – ” she starts to say again, but I’m fucking her so fast that this time she doesn’t manage to
finish her sentence.
Her pussy tightens up around my cock like a vice as she bunches up the sheets, clawing at the
mattress like a wild animal, and that’s when a wave of pleasure hits her. Her whole body tenses up and
she collapses, her body going limp and shaking at the same time as she comes hard.
“More,” she asks me as she tries to get up, her muscles still twitching.
Sitting up, she makes me sit on the edge of the bed, placing her arms over my shoulders. As she
does it, she raises one leg at a time and sits on my lap, straddling me while I cross my legs. The moment
she´s on top of me, she bucks her hips hard, pressing her pussy against my shaft and pinning it against my
body.
She keeps on swaying her hips, grinding against my cock and smearing her juices all over my
thighs. She presses against my cock so hard that it makes me groan.
“Give me that pussy,” I tell her with a wicked grin.
She opens some space between her pussy and my cock, reaches for it with one hand and curls her
fingers around it. She angles it downward so that my tip is pressing against her inner lips but, instead of
allowing me inside her, she just brushes it up and down the length of her pussy. My whole body is as tense
as a nocked arrow, and I genuinely don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to endure this torture.
Locking her eyes on mine, she finally raises her hips a few inches, allowing the tip of my cock to be
pressed against her inner lips. Holding her breath, she then lowers herself as fast as she can, literally
impaling herself on my big cock. The tip of it parts her drenched folds in a fraction of a second as she
violently lowers herself.
Gritting her teeth, she starts bucking her hips against me, swaying them back and forth in such a way
that I feel wildfire burning inside my muscles.
She rides me as hard as she can right from the start, allowing my cock to ravage her mercilessly.
She keeps going like that for God knows how long, large beads of sweat dripping down her forehead.
She rides me into oblivion, and she only ease her rhythm when she feels her insides clenching.
“Oh, I’m gonna…Oh, fu –” she starts to say, but then her words turn into a drawn out moan as I feel
her pussy tightening up around my cock viciously.
She moans as loud as she can. Digging her fingernails into my chest, she throws her head back and
closes her eyes. Gritting her teeth, she holds her breath as she endures the sweet whipping of an orgasm,
the pleasure raging through her veins turning her smile into one of the best things I’ve ever seen.
 Kayla


I groan as he pulls his cock out of me, and then roll to the side and allow myself to lay there in the
mattress, by body collapsing from exhaustion as I try to catch my breath. My arms and legs are sprawled,
and I feel as if I’m floating.
But Scott still has some strength left.
Placing his hands on the back of my knees, he drags me to the edge of the bed; there, he pushes my
legs up and I have no other choice but to rest them over his shoulders.
Leaning into me, he forces me to bend over and guides his cock straight home, pushing it past my
pussy lips and drawing a high and mighty moan out of my lips. Sweet Jesus, what is this man doing to me?
This isn´t sex – this is magic, the kind you’re not sure if it’s real or not.
His cock is ramming me furiously as his thighs slap against my ass, flesh on flesh, lust coating our
bodies. Even though I’m a writer, I’m not sure if I’m capable of finding the right words to describe the
amount of pleasure that has taken over my body. It’s simply too much, far beyond the realm of what I
thought to be possible.
I start screaming as the fury of his pounding turns into electric delight, my body wrapped tight in a
blanket of pleasure. Our bodies sway at the same rhythm for God knows how long, and I just close my
eyes and surrender to the moment.
He doesn’t stop or slow down – he keeps pushing through my moans and my screams, pounding me
mercilessly as I push my voice to the limit.
I’m screaming, I’m screaming as loud as I can. My body is trembling as if I’ve lost control of all
my limbs. My legs and arms are flailing, and I almost feel like crying in pleasure. Scott remains still,
rocking his body against mine as I simply vanish into a higher dimension.
After a few more thrusts, he suddenly pulls his cock out of my pussy and, grabbing me by the waist
with both hands he turns me around, my back now turned to him.
“On your fours. Now.” He commands me, and the tone of his voice leaves no room for hesitation.
I obey, and I do it quickly. Wasting no time, he slides his hand from my clit to my ass crack. Then he
gently inserts his finger inside my hole. I moan as he slides in and out each time harder and deeper.
He goes as deep as he can, and then starts to move it in a pendulum motion, my body aching for
more than just a finger. But there’s no need for despair. As if he could read my mind, he takes his fingers
out of me and replaces them with his large cock, it pressed tight against my hole.
With his hands on my ass cheeks, he spreads them wide as he eases himself in, his cock pushing
back against my inner walls as it advances steadily inside my ass.
I scream as he goes all the way in.
He pulls back slowly before going in again, his body rocking against mine. Making sure that he’s
not going anywhere, I start bucking my hips against him.
I’m breathing hard, the muscles around my lungs so numb with pleasure, that I’m having a hard time
doing something as simple as breathing. He starts going faster, his cock settling into a crescendo rhythm,
and my ragged breathing turns into a cadence of wild moaning.
He leans even more into me, pressing his body against mine. As he comes and goes, each time his
cock goes deep inside of me, he starts rubbing my clit with one finger, an expanding pressure spreading
throughout all of my body.
Like holding my breath, I know that the moment when I won’t be able to endure any longer is
coming.
That’s pretty much how I feel right now.
I summon all my strength and tense up my legs, jutting my ass and thrusting my hips hard against
him.
He continues until my body simply can’t endure any longer.
My mind is exhausted, my muscles tense and pulsating, trembling with pleasure. But he goes on,
thrusting in and out my ass as hard as he possible.
“Oh, fuck,” I whisper, and I close my eyes and surrender to the inevitable.
I let go of the world.
My muscles tense and the whole universe explodes inside of me, my mind flooded by a tidal wave
of pleasure.
I scream, an impossible cry of pleasure. My whole body trembles – my face, my arms and my legs.
I throw my head back and close my eyes. My body explodes once more, an impossible and powerful
orgasm shaking every inch of my body and soul.
He continues, burying his whole length deep inside my ass, and a few seconds later I feel his whole
body becoming taut and his breathing heavier. With a final thrust I feel his cock spasming against my
insides, and then he unleashes his seed, filling me up to the brim.
I collapse on top of the mattress, stomach down, while he keeps his cock gushing inside me. My
skin prickles as I feel his cum dripping down my legs, and I grab at the sheets once more, bunching them
up in my hands.
When he pulls out of me he rolls to the side on the mattress, lying down by my side.
We stay there for a long time, just catching our breath in the silence of the bedroom. Then, doing it
gently, he reaches for my hand and locks his fingers on mine. We don’t say a word – we just enjoy the
closeness of our spent bodies, holding hands.
I don’t know when this became more than just a fling, but there’s no doubt in my mind…
This is way more than just a fling.
 Kayla


With my left hand, I squeeze my stress ball, and with my right hand, I doodle on a blank page in my
notepad. I’m hoping this distraction will leave me as calm as possible for my upcoming meeting with Ed.
I glance at my wristwatch. Five more minutes before I have to face him. I’m not looking forward to
this meeting, but I know there’s no way I can get out of it.
My eyes leave my notepad and find my name certificate. “Wise one” is meant to be one of the
meanings of Kayla. Pity I’ve missed out in the wise department. Obviously, Mum had chosen the wrong
name.
If I were blessed with wisdom, I would know what to do, more to the point I wouldn’t have even
gotten myself into the situation I’m in. I sigh and look at my scribbles.
Have I just doodled a penis and balls? I frown and stare at the shapes.
My door opens, and Ed breezes in to interrupt my thoughts. He has his mobile held against his right
ear. It seems to be a permanent feature there.
Quickly, I turn the page. I don’t want Ed to see my art work.
“Got to go,” I hear him say.
Three minutes early, I see.
“Hi, Ed.” I try and inject enthusiasm into my voice.
“Have you done it?”
Straight to the point, no pleasantries, no small talk.
“Done what?” I stall. Of course I know what he’s referring to, but I want him to spell it out.
“If you haven’t decided which one you’re going to kill, I’ve decided for you.”
I hold my breath. I’m on the edge of my seat, and I feel as if I’m watching a thriller with me as the
main character.
“You have?”
“You will need to get rid of Scott.”
I breathe out slowly. “Think before you speak,” I silently tell myself, but I can feel my innards
rupture from emotional explosives.
“Why?”
Ed crosses his legs and brushes invisible things off his trouser leg.
“Surely you know?” Ed stares at me. I shrug. “After the altercation between Scott and Ian, I think
we can all agree it is Scott who has to go.”
I don’t agree at all. If anyone should go, it should be Ian, but I keep this to myself. I try and bide my
time.
I try to sound in total control when I reply.
 “I think Ian is overreacting. He had a bad day filming. Everyone got frazzled, and testosterone got
in the way.”
I look at Ed to gauge his reaction.
“That’s not what Ian said.” Ed glances at his phone. “Don’t let your feelings get in the way of good
judgment.”
Is there a hint of a threat in Ed’s voice?
“I think it would be a mistake to get rid of Scott. Brad and Scott work well together. They are a
team, just like the characters they play. The show needs them.”
“Get rid of both of them then.”
My mouth drops open. Did I hear that right, or is there something wrong with my hearing?
“If you think one is not going to be good without the other, kill them both and make Ian the star of
the show.” Ed pauses. “Problem solved.”
He hesitates before he adds, “Don’t let your personal feelings get in the way of your career,
Kayla.”
I’m too stunned to be able to reply. Has he lost his mind? How the hell would that work?
I can’t just kill off two of the main stars of the show—the only two that are really any good.
“A car accident is always good. With some good writing, you can string it out and keep the
audience in suspense for a bit.”
My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I try again and feel like a fish out of water.
Just then, Ed’s phone rings. He looks at the screen, presses the answer button, and leaves my office.
I’m not sure how long I sit and stare at the chair where Ed had sat during the meeting. It wasn’t
really a meeting, I decide, more like a dictator come to tell me what to do. From my point of view, a
meeting was about discussing different ideas, working through a problem.
The longer I sit and ponder, the angrier I become.
Eventually, I push my chair back and make to leave my office. I scribble something on a blank page
and walk out.
The note on my computer will let anyone who’s looking for me know I’ve taken the rest of the day
off.
There’s no way I’ll be able to get any writing done after this meeting. I may as well get out before
the walls close in on me. They are suffocating me as it is.
I drum my fingers on my steering wheel for a few minutes before I drive out of the car park and turn
left.
I have no idea where I’m going. It’ll do me good to just go for a little drive.
As I make my way through the traffic, I replay Ed’s words. Just get rid of both of them.
It was nuts. There was no other way to describe his reaction.
The show doesn’t have enough traction to survive the two main leads being written out. While I
don’t make a point of reading the reviews regularly, I’m aware the audience hasn’t warmed to Ian.
Without paying attention to where I’m going, I turn left, right, and left again, and I meander through
downtown LA.
I enjoy working on the show, and I have plenty of ideas of where it could head. After the first
season, I was brimming with ideas and creativity. Ed hasn’t been interested.
Ed.
I decide Ed is the problem, together with Ian, in all of this.
Of course, Angela is right, and I really need to start to speak out and stand up for what I believe in.
I take another left-hand turn and notice I’m in Brad’s street. I sigh and slow down.
Outside his house, I stop the car.
I know Brad must be home. He isn’t scheduled to shoot at the studio today.
I take deep breaths in and out before I get out of the car and walk to the front door of Brad’s house.
 Brad


I don’t remember when I started running on my elliptical machine. But the mileage is up to almost
four and a half miles. I’m zoning out; mad one minute, sad the next. I’m feeling completely and utterly
frustrated the whole time. Fucking useless. I hope Shauna can figure this mess out.
Shauna has the day off. She has a home life too. I often forget she’s married and has a teenage kid…
a daughter named Sam—no, a son named Sam.
Yeah, I can’t recall; I really should remember.
All I can think about is the trouble this blog has created. It’s the last thing I wanted. The very last
thing.
I know my career can handle the stress, but not Kayla’s…hers is just starting.
Toweling the sweat off as I cross my house, I head for the shower. All I wantis to rinse off quickly
and then make myself some dinner.
I have some top-notch steaks marinating in Worcestershire sauce and some chopped-up onions and
mushrooms waiting to be grilled. My stomach growls. Yeah, it’s going to be delicious, and after all the
calories I just burned, I have nothing to worry about if I eat it all.
That’s my plan—eat until I’m stuffed and then fall asleep on the couch, watching a movie.
While showering, I think I hear my doorbell. A UPS delivery no doubt—my new cell phone
charger. I get out of the shower and start drying my body. I can hear my assistant’s words in my head.
“You always say not to leave the packages at the door too long. Kids like to steal things that look
like they came from Amazon or Best Buy,” I say to myself, a reminder to rush out to get it.
I’m still pulling on my Nike sweatpants when the doorbell rings again. Either the UPS delivery guy
has made a mistake, or someone’s here. I wonder who?
“I’m coming!” I shout.
Dashing through my house, I pull my T-shirt on. I would have liked to dry my hair too, but the
doorbell rings a third time. Whoever is at my door is in a damn hurry.
“Coming!”
I kinda fling the door open. Not meaning to. To my surprise, there’s Kayla turning, about to walk
away.
“Hey. Hey you,” I say, grabbing her attention.
“Hey, Brad. Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I wave her in.
I’m so happy to see her. My day’s suddenly shaping up. I cannot wait to see where this is going to
go. Maybe, if I am lucky, I will get…well…lucky.
“So…what’s happening, Kayla? I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” I smile. “But I sure am happy
you stopped by.”
“It’s a mess, Brad.”
Oh shit. I feel my heart drop to the floor upon seeing her upset face.
“What’s wrong?” I say. “Tell me what I can do to help. Anything. Just say it.”
“I don’t know.”
Kayla’s voice is full of defeat. Watching her plop down, basically giving up on my couch is enough
to break my heart. I’m quickly realizing I will do anything—whatever is needed to help and protect her.
I really care. These are not just words falling out of my mouth. These are not empty promises. I
mean them.
“Kayla—”
She whines. “What…”
“Kayla, listen to me, okay?”
“Yeah?” She peeks up at me; she’s looking so sad it’s ridiculous.
“I’ll quit the show. Okay. I’ll quit. Maybe that will help. I mean it has to, at least, make things a
little easier for you, right?”
She’s stunned. I can see it on her face. “You’d do that for me? You’d quit for me?”
“I would.” I smile. “Quitting will not hurt my career.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I get offers all the time. I have a few sitting on the table right now. I can call Shauna and she
can tell you herself. There’s always some producer or director waiting on me. This won’t slow me down
at all. No. I’ll be fine.”
She’s quiet for a moment. I’m not sure if she’s going to cry or what. So I kneel before her and take
her tiny hand.
“Is that what you want?” she asks me. “Do you want to quit?”
Her eyes look pained. I can tell she doesn’t want this either.
“No. Of course not. I don’t want to quit. You’re an amazing writer, and I love working with you.
This is the most excited I have been about a role in a long time. But all that said, I will quit. Gladly. If it
helps you.”
She stands up suddenly and wraps her arms around me in a big hug. It feels nice. Not just her body
pressed against mine, but the sentiment feels good.
Kayla feels good.
“Thank you for saying all that, Brad. Really.”
“I meant it,” I whisper in her ear. “Seriously, Kayla, if it is your career or mine…then I’ll quit to
protect you.”
She hugs me tighter. It feels like she doesn’t want to let go.
I stay in her embrace for a bit. And when she loosens her hold, I quickly acquire her eye contact by
gently pinching her chin. “You are amazing, Kayla.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.”
Leaning in slowly, I can feel the heat from her mouth before my lips even reach hers. Pressing them
lightly, I hope she welcomes their presence, and she does. Her mouth opens slightly.
She smells like roses…roses and sex.
God, I want her so much.
 Kayla


I throw my head back, baring my neck to him, and he savors my skin with gentle kisses. I pant each
time his lips touch me, a gentle fog of pleasure blanketing my mind. I get out of his hold with cat-like
movements, freeing my hands and taking them to his t-shirt, my frantic fingers pulling it from his body.
I take off his shirt then and, almost with a growl, I press the open palm of my hands on his
pectorals, feeling all the warmth coming from his skin under my fingertips. He presses his body against
mine, sending a shiver down my spine, and then grabs a handful of hair on the nape of my neck.
Holding my head, he presses his mouth against mine; fireworks go off behind my eyelids as we kiss
savagely, our tongues dancing and fighting against each other with abandonment.
Still kissing me, he makes me take a few steps back, until we reach the couch. Then we sit down.
“Come here, Kayla,” he says, taking me by the hand. I obey him, sitting on his lap.
I slide my hands up his knees, slowly raising them until finally only my fingertips are touching the
fabric of his sweatpants. Without taking my eyes from his, I take my hands to my chest and unbutton the top
of my blouse, the patterns on the black lace bra I am wearing peeking at him.
I can feel him aching for more, the impulse to just grab me by the waist, push me closer and just rip
my blouse open darting across his face. But he remains still.
I rest my hand against his chest, the warmth of his body coming at me. I bite my lower lip and look
at him, his eyes begging for me almost desperately.
In a swift motion I lace my arm around his neck and pull myself to him, sitting across his lap.
Reacting by instinct, his hand goes to my waist, his long fingers brushing against the exposed skin between
my skirt and blouse. It only takes that, his fingers on my skin – and I immediately feel a pulsing heat
between my thighs, a piercing desire to just hike up my skirt and let him have me there and then.
I still can´t believe he would have given up on the show just to protect me. I want him so much...I
just want to touch him, to do things with him. And I’m not just talking about sex. No, it goes deeper than
that.
I pull his sweatpants hard down his legs. His hands fly to my waist and he turns me around, pulling
down the zipper of my skirt. I push it down with the tip of my fingers, my bare ass turned to him.
I can feel his eyes banqueting on the vision of it, enjoying the shape of my ass and delighting on
how only just a small strip of thong covers me.
With my back still turned to him I give a step into his direction and lower my ass into his crotch. It
fits neatly against his cock, and I rub myself against it, the length and thickness of it almost making me
moan. Our hips sway against each other, a frenzied lust driving both our bodies.
I’m so wet I’m almost expecting it to drip down my legs.
Wasting no time, I get up and turn myself to him.
 His hand grips my jaw, index and middle finger sliding inside my mouth. My lips wrap around his
fingers instinctively, sucking on them gently. My tongue swirls around it and my body throbs as I imagine
his cock between my lips.
Doing it as slowly as I can, I place my hands on his outer thighs, hooking my fingers on his boxer
briefs. One little tug and his member springs free, and just seeing it again, my skin prickles.
Leaning into him, I close my eyes as I approach his cock. I part my lips and let the tip of my tongue
out, resting it against the tip of his cock and allowing the saltiness of his pre-cum to coat my tongue.
I take my time, flicking my tongue and using it to circle the fat head of his cock. Tilting my head
sideways, I then run the tip of my tongue down the length of his shaft. When I finally get to the root, I place
one hand under his balls and start massaging them.
Guided by instinct, I open my mouth as wide as I can and suck one of his balls in, allowing its full
weight to rest over my tongue. I do the same with the other one, wrapping my lips tightly around it as I
keep on lapping with my tongue, and only then do I go back up his shaft.
This time, I go beyond his tip. I open my mouth wide again, allowing the tip of his cock between my
lips, and then I start lowering my head over his length. His cock pushes down on my tongue and against
the inside of my cheeks, filling me all my mouth.
I push my mouth down his huge cock, going as deep as I can. When my lips reach the base of his
shaft, I hold my position for a few seconds, feeling the tip of his cock throb against the back of my throat
and savoring all his inches.
Then I start bobbing my head up and down as fast as I can, both his hands on my head guiding my
movements. I don’t even bother with building up a rhythm; I just suck him violently from the start,
ravaging his cock with my mouth…or the other way around.
As his muscles start to become tense, he pulls out of my mouth, pulling my head back with both
hands. Then he leans forward and grabs me by the hand, pushing me up.
His mouth goes to my neck then, savage kisses and soft bites finding their way through my skin. He
starts unbuttoning the rest of my blouse and then, when the last button comes undone, he takes off my
blouse with a single yank, leaving me only in my bra and thong. Taking his hands straight to my shoulder
blades, he unclasps my bra and takes it off as well, revealing my breasts.
“I want you so bad, Kayla,” he says, his hand tracing a line between my neck and my right breast,
then circling my nipple with his fingertip.
“I want you too. I want to feel you inside me”
I guess I don’t have to say anything. My whole body is whispering, fuck me right now, Brad, please.
He smiles at me, pinches my nipple twice as my wetness grows by the second. He then leans into
me, his mouth going toward my breasts.
While his tongue dances around one nipple, his fingers start caressing the other one.
He takes me back to the couch, laying me there. He sits by my side and, stretching one arm in my
direction, he reaches for my thighs. With his fingertips he starts drawing the outline of my wet thong,
lightly pressing on my aching pussy.
With a single movement he pulls my thong off, making it slide down my legs; I balance it on one
foot for a second, and then just kick it across Brad’s living room.
I sway my hips, but he takes his other hand and holds me in place by the hips.
Slowly parting my pussy lips, he takes his finger all the way up my crevice, and only then does he
brush his fingertip against my clitoris
I exhale sharply, his fingertips caressing my wet lips with a maddening gentleness. He keeps his
soft rhythm and slowly drives me to the edge with his touch. Ah, I love it.
Suddenly, he slides a second finger inside me and starts upping the pace. His fingers slide in and
out my insides while he´s rubbing and pressing on my clit with his thumb.
I’m screaming now, and I’m also moaning. God, I don’t even know which one I’m doing. I can’t see
straight, I can’t hear a thing. In this exact moment, the only thing my mind can process is the way Brad’s
fingering me, pushing me toward the edge of ecstasy.
I moan, feeling everything in me burning up, from my toes to the tip of my hair. I moan between my
gritted teeth, my pussy tightening around his fingers as I come.
After a few seconds, and without a word, he goes up to his feet and picks me up from the couch.
Carrying me in his arms, he makes no detours – he crosses the living room and goes up the stairway, In the
upper floor of his house, he goes straight for the bedroom, gently placing me down on the mattress.
 Brad


I lay myself next to her and find myself thinking, knowing in my heart that no woman has ever made
me feel like this. And no, I’m not talking about the sex only. There’s that, of course, but it goes way deeper
than just our bodies. It’s something…different.
At least for me.
I’m not used to this feelings shit.
I roll to the side, my body meeting hers as I reach for her lips. As we kiss once again, I position
myself between her knees, keeping them wide. I can feel her body still shivering from the last orgasm.
Then I take my mouth from hers, brushing my lips down her body. I grab a pillow and put it under
her ass, lifting up her thighs a bit more. By now, she has already realized what I’m going to do.
“I want it…now,” she moans.
“Patience is a virtue,” I grin, mischievousness making my heart drum fast. I move away from her
pussy to look at her. Her eyes are closed, her skin prickled.
I start running my fingertips up and down her inner thighs, avoiding her pussy, which is making her
impatient.
“Come on…I want it,” she continues, grabbing my hair, trying to bring me closer to her pussy.
I gently press my lips against her inner thighs, kissing them first, and then licking them, drawing a
line that reaches closer and closer to her wetness. Then I finally touch her, her lips allowing the escape of
a moan of pure pleasure.
With my fingertips I trace the outline of her outer lips, and then go back to her inner thighs. She’s
becoming insane, her fingers tangled on my hair, her thighs moving fast in order to become closer to my
mouth, her whole body wanting to feel the warmth of my tongue inside her.
I slowly start kissing and sucking her inner lips, while I slip one finger inside her wetness, as deep
as I can, and hold it there.
Then, I move it in and out at an increasing speed. At the same time, I reach for her clit with my
tongue, pressing it there.
I begin to move my tongue in circular motions around her clit while fingering her, now faster and
harder than before.
It doesn’t take too long until her legs wrap around my neck, and she thrusts her pussy against my
face, her whole body tensing up.
I love doing this. Her smell, her taste.
This woman really got me good.
She lets out a scream, one loud enough to be heard for miles. Her whole body twitches as she
comes, her pussy tightening around my fingers again.
 Giving her no time to rest, I position myself on top of her and she laces her legs around me.
I allow my tip to part her drenched folds and, the moment her inner lips are wrapped around the
head of my cock, all hell breaks loose. My thick shaft strains against her inner walls on the way in,
stretching her wide.
I thrust my cock deep into her in a single movement, burying all my length inside her aching pussy.
My long inches move fast, stabbing her violently fast, as she screams as loud as she can.
She can’t hold out any longer. She bites her lip against a loud moan as her entire body is flooded
with intense pleasure. Each thrust of my cock sends another powerful shockwave through her body, her
toes curling and her fingers digging hard into my back.
Moving fast, her movements fluid and desperate, she kneels on the mattress and forces me to lay
down.
She grabs my cock and, wanting to have me inside her mouth once more, she leans towards me,
engulfing me with her lips straight away. Grabbing her hair, I push my cock down her mouth, pushing
through my last inches until her lips are touching the root of my length.
As her mouth moves up and down my cock, I groan softly. She reaches one hand up to circle the
base so she can take my cock all the way into her throat. She holds it there for a moment, moving up and
down enough to rub my head against the inside of her throat. Pulling away, she circles her tongue around
my head as she gasps for air, her hands working my while she catches her breath.
But more than having me in her mouth, she needs me inside her pussy again.
I just need to feel her warm pussy around my cock again.
She lets go of my cock as I get out of the bed.
“Come here, Kayla.”
She comes without any hesitation and I force her to turn around and bend over the edge of the bed.
Massaging her ass cheeks, I slide one hand between her legs and rub my fingers from her clit to her
ass, and then ease myself into her. She presses her forehead against the mattress, sweat trickling down her
back, as my cock parts her pussy lips and lodges itself deep inside her once more.
She juts her ass back and starts swaying her hips slightly, moving them from side to side as she
rocks her body against mine at the same time.
I press into her with all my weight, going as deep as I can.
I enjoy the feeling of every inch of my cock sinking inside her pussy, as I slap her ass.
With every thrust I speed up gradually until I am fucking her mercilessly. One of my hands rests on
her lower back and I wrap the other around her hip, fingers digging into the curve where her hip meets her
thigh so I can fuck her even deeper than before. I admire the red prints left on her ass by my hand, one of
my fingers teasing over the tender skin.
She’s gritting her teeth, each thrust I make making her body tense up. I keep my relentless pace.
This is fucking perfection.
 Kayla


He keeps on upping his pace until I just can’t take it anymore. I throw my head back, my hair falling
down my shoulders, and let out one mighty scream, loud enough for every single person in the whole city
to hear it.
“So good,” I purr as I feel the smooth fingers of an orgasm caressing my mind.
Slowly, he pulls his huge cock out of my pussy and let go of my hips, allowing me to collapse on
the bed. I tilt my head to the side, contemplating his face, beads of sweat running down his forehead, as he
sits on the mattress by my side, his legs crossed.
“Don’t tell me you’re already tired.” He grins, his mouth reaching for mine and falling perfectly on
my lower lip.
“I want more. I’ll never be tired of you. Of us.”
Oh my God, I can’t believe I said that.
He smiles. With some strength back in my legs, I get up and jump into him, wrapping them around
his waist.
I grab his cock and place it right on my pussy, its tip resting on top of my inner lips. He bucks his
hips at me, my inner folds parting and engulfing his thick head. His lips curl into a grin and, before I can
even prepare for it and ease myself down, he grabs me by the waist.
He holds me in place as he thrusts hard. The moment his shaft slides inside of me, it’s as if my body
is burning from the inside out. I lean more into him, my fingers clawing at his shoulders as I begin to ride
him as fast as I possibly can, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
I lean into him, my lips looking for his, and I kiss him once again. Surrendering to lust, I explore his
whole mouth with my tongue, our thighs moving in a frenetic dance.
Pulling back from his kiss, I let a loud moan erupt on my lips and I drag my fingernails across his
shoulder blades harder enough to draw blood.
Every single muscle in my body tenses up, becoming as hard as concrete, and my inner walls
tighten up around his thick shaft once more. Then, before I can even process what’s happening, I’m hit by
a veritable bomb of pleasure.
My eyes roll in their orbits, and it feels like as if both my lungs, my heart, and my brain have turned
into balls of fire.
And I come again.
He pulls out from me, but he doesn’t need to be told what to do. I haven’t even had the time to
breathe and he’s already behind me, slapping my ass and rubbing his thick fat cock over my pussy as I
wiggle my ass.
He rams it in me in an instant and, before I can even control myself, I let out a violent scream. He’s
ramming me so hard, I lose all notion of where I am – I don’t care about anything anymore.
Still inside of my pussy, he places his long fingers over my cheeks from side to side, and a shiver
goes up my side as I feel his fingertips over my crack. Noticing it, he spreads my cheeks wide and then
starts caressing the gap. He stops right over my asshole then, pressing gently there.
“Oh, God,” I gasp as he starts pushing his finger inside my ass, the movement of my body growing
more erratic and violent. He truly drives me crazy, there’s no doubt about it. And that’s exactly the way I
want it.
He starts fingering me as I rock my body back and forth, waves of pleasure crashing against my
body as I forget to breathe.
Then, he pulls his cock out of pussy and his fingers off my crack, and presses his tip on my ass hole.
He goes all the way deep inside me, and I scream with pleasure. He starts thrusting and I push my
ass back, allowing him to go deeper and deeper.
With one hand he holds my waist, and with the other he reaches for my clit, rubbing it with his
almost magical fingertips.
After that, his fingers leave my clit and start running over the length of my pussy, up and down,
while he fucks my ass good, no mercy left to his movements.
I can´t even describe what I’m feeling right know. I’m dizzy, my whole body focused on his
movements as I try to keep up with his pace. I’m drunk in sex, sweating pleasure through my bare pores.
He starts fingering my pussy at the same time, and I don’t think I can hold much longer without
coming, that wave of pleasure forming itself on every cell of my body.
His body is becoming tense too, the hand he had placed on my waist now running up through my
body, reaching for my breasts.
“Don´t stop…Don´t…you…fucking…stop!” I scream at the same rhythm he thrusts.
He groans and doesn´t stop, going even harder than before. As my insides tighten around his shaft, I
can feel him spasming inside my ass, unleashing a torrent of cum that starts dripping down my legs.
Still with my back turned to him, I close my eyes.
He pulls out of me and my skin prickles as I hear his hard breathing. A fraction of a second later
and I feel thick ropes of cum falling on my back, crisscrossing over my naked skin.
“Oh, God,” I moan, throwing myself on top of the mattress as I try to catch my breath, my body
being devoured by flames of pleasure.
“This was so fucking good,” he whispers, throwing himself on top of the mattress as if he’s about to
pass out. I guess I’m not the only exhausted person in here.
“Everything’s good when I’m with you,” I find myself saying, and my heart grows tight as I realize
what I’ve just said.
First Scott, now Brad…what’s happening to me?
 Scott


Left, right, right left—I move my feet quickly. My hands pommel the little punching bag hanging on
my veranda in the same rhythm. Little beads of sweat are forming at the base of my neck.
The ding on my phone lets me know I’ve done five minutes. I stop, take a sip of water, and start
again.
Another twenty of these and I’ve done my workout for the day. I might even go for a bit of a run.
It takes me some time to realize the strange sound I’ve been trying to ignore is someone knocking at
my front door.
I bounce through my apartment, trying not to lose my momentum. I’m not expecting anyone, so I
know I’ll be short and quick. If it’s religious recruiters, I’ll be short and rude, and if it’s charity
collectors, I’ll be reasonably polite and short.
Either way, I’ll be short.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?”
I stop dancing on the spot. I’m not going to be quick after all.
“Not bad. And you?”
Brad pats me on the shoulder.
“Great.”
“Do you want to come in?”
He nods, and I lead the way.
Brad looks at my punching bag.
“Those any good?”
I nod and take another sip of water.
“They’re great for letting off steam.” And boy have I been letting off steam. I could have powered
an entire steam train for a hundred miles or so over the last few days.
Brad throws little punches at it. The bag barely moves.
I walk over and give him a demo.
“Nice moves, showoff,” Brad says and sits down. “Seen Kayla lately?”
The question throws me off.
“I see her everyday…like you, at work.”
Brad laughs. “Come on, man, I know she’s hot for you. I mean, after the punch-up the other day and
the fallout.”
“She said she was okay.”
Brad nods.
“She’s a tough one. But I think she’s really suffering the way Ed treats her. And that dead shit Ian.”
 “Don’t get me started on those two.” I hold up my hands. “They don’t deserve to be working with
someone like Kayla. She loves her job and takes it really serious.”

“I know.” Brad nods. “I think we need to help her.”
I look at Brad.
“Really? What’d you have in mind?”
Brad leans forward and stares at his hands.
“We need to find stuff on those two.”
“What sort of stuff?” I hadn’t heard anything bad about Ed or Ian, except that Ian was fucking
hopeless and Ed a dickhead. It’s hardly the sort of thing you can use against someone.
“You know we need to find their weak spot. Get someone to dig up some dirt on them.” Brad seems
to have given this a lot of thought.
I scratch my head.
“I guess. But what if they don’t have anything?”
Brad laughs.
“Trust me, dude, they’re bound to have some dirt on them. We need to dig. He who shall dig will
find.”
We both laugh.
“You just made that up.”
Brad nods.
“Duh, but it sounds good.”
“Drink?”
Brad looks at his watch.
“Suppose. It’s after lunch.”
When I come back with two beers, Brad is standing in the living room, studying my music
collection.
“Does Kayla know?” I ask and hand Brad his beer.
Brad looks over at me.
“Know what?”
“Your plan of digging up some dirt.”
Brad takes a drink before he replies,
“Nope, she wouldn’t agree to it anyway. You know what’s she’s like—too nice for her own good.”
I nod.
“She’s great, isn’t she? Gorgeous, sexy, smart, and so goddamn hot.”
“Not to mention a fantastic fuck.”
We toast Kayla with our beer bottles.
 “We need to look after her.”
I agree. “We all want the same thing. Kayla wants us to stay on the show, and we want to stay on the
show and want Kayla to stay as head writer.”
“And we all want Ian to piss off and for Ed to disappear off the face of the earth.”
“So how do we get rid of Ian?” I persist.
I think Brad has more of a plan than he’s telling me. If this is the case, I think he should share. After
all, two minds can be better than one.
“I haven’t worked out all the details yet. But I think the first step is to find someone to get any dirt
on both Ian and Ed. With any luck, there’s some kind of connection.”
I cringe at the word connection.
“You’re not suggesting a connection as in Ed and Ian, are you?” I’m not against two blokes at all.
I’ve even played a gay guy once, but the thought of those two gives me the creeps.
Brad laughs.
“No way. No man or woman would want either of those jerks.”
I think to back on everything I’ve read about Ian. I draw a blank.
“I think we’ll be scratching to find something on Ian. He’s so dull I’ve never read anything about
him in any of the gossip columns.”
“Me neither, but there must be something there.” Brad takes another swig out of his bottle. “It’s odd
that Ian only works on series or films Ed has something to do with.”
I hadn’t picked this up. Smart man, our Brad.
“Okay, so let’s see what we can find.” I agree.
“I’ve got my assistant trying to dig up as much as she can.”
I scratch my neck.
“I know this PI. He’s good, very good. I’ll pay him a visit, and we’ll see what he can find.”
“To Kayla,” we both toast again.
“Let’s vow to make sure nothing happens to our Kayla,” I say.
Brad echoes, “Hear, hear.”
 Scott


As I walk out the door, I look one last time in the mirror. Not bad. Instead of my usual jeans and
tight T-shirt, I’m wearing dark loose-fitting trousers, a dark shirt, a coat, and a cap.
I pull the cap down to cover my face. No one should recognize me in this getup.
Instead of driving, I take the bus and walk the rest of the way.
Outside a double-story building with broken shutters and a crocked sign, I look around. There
appears to be no one around. With any luck, no one will see me go in.
I press the bell where it says “Keyhole Antics” and wait for someone to open the door.
When it does, I almost sprint up the stairs. I make sure I touch nothing. The germs are practically
staring at me from the railing and walls.
On the second floor, I turn left and spot the large green lettered sign straightaway.
Richard Burstfly, Director.
Keyhole Antics and Co.
I cringe.
If Kayla didn’t mean so much to me, I wouldn’t be here.
Carefully I walk to the door. A cockroach glares at me I nearly step on him. I would step on him if I
didn’t want to get my shoes dirty. The damn thing is so huge I wonder if it’s some kind of mutant.
Once I’m past it, I half turn to look at it again. I swear I thought it talked to me.
Luckily, Richard opens the door before I can work out how to touch the handle without catching the
plague or something worse. I don’t want to be walking out of here with two heads and four legs, or
something weird like that.
“Me man Scott,” Richard greets me like a long-lost friend.
“Hey, Richard.” I lift my hand in a hello type of wave. There’s no way I’m touching his hand. Who
knows where it has been.
“Call me Dick Scott. Everyone else does.”
I follow the PI into his office.
To describe the shit heap as an office was an exaggeration—a massive overstatement.
The couch against the back wall was so full of stains I wondered what had been going on there
before deciding I probably did no really want to know. Those stains could be anything.
A single light globe hung from the ceiling; the paint was peeling off, and every space was covered
in either papers or some other shit.
Dick shoves a pile of stuff off a chair and invites me to sit down. He himself heaves his mass of fat
onto one of those swivel chairs behind his desk. As his weight descends on the unsuspecting chair, there’s
an almighty racket.
 In anticipation, I hold my breath.
Nothing happens. Judging by the noise, I thought the chair was going to collapse and Dick end up
sprawled on the ground.
“Now, my man,” says Dick, and his stained sausage fingers fumble through some papers on his
desk. “Is it the wife? Girlfriend? Bitch on heat straying and you want to find the bastard for castration?”
At the word castration, I feel a twinge in my penis.
“No.” I shake my head. I feel something crawl over the back of my neck, and I swiftly brush it off.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I see a cockroach.
No, wait a minute, not just any cockroach, but the one from the corridor. Is he staring at me? I glare
at him and lift my foot in a threatening manner.
The roach gets the message and disappears behind a bundle of papers.
“Sorry,” Dick says. “Boyfriend straying? Same thing really, isn’t it?”
I shake my head.
“Sorry?” I have missed what he said, too distracted by the fucking bug.
“You want me to find who your boyfriend is fucking?”
Now I roll my eyes.
“No.” I hold up my hand to stop him from talking. “It’s not that sort of investigation. I need you to
find dirt.”
Dick leans forward on his desk. Is he drooling? He is all ears.
“What type of dirt?”
“I need you to find what you can on these two people.”
I pull out a photo of Ian and Ed. I have written their names under each of their photographs.
“That dude looks familiar.” Dick’s meaty finger points at Ian and leaves a fat stain right on his
cheek.
“He’s an actor on a daytime television series.”
The PI scribbles something in his notebook.
“And this one?” Now the same fat stain can be seen on Ed’s chin.
“He’s the producer on the same show,” I explain.
Dick scratches his chin.
“They’re together?” His fingers entwine as if to get his point across a little clearer.
I shake my head.
“No, it won’t be that easy. Ian, the actor, seems to only be in stuff where Ed is the producer.”
More notes are scribbled in the notepad, emphasis on scribbled because to me it looks more like
one of the many bugs in this room crawled across the page in drunken stupor than legible writing. Maybe
Dick couldn’t write?
“It’ll cost.” Dick rubs his hands together, and it looks like his nose is glowing.
 “I’ll pay. I’ll pay top dollar, particularly if you can deliver.”
The hands stop rubbing and come to rest on the desk.
“Keyhole Antics will deliver, Scott. It always does.”
I pull out some notes and throw them onto the desk. I don’t want to touch anything.
“Down payment, Dick. There’ll be more once you give me the dirt.”
Now I’m sure there’s spit trickling down the PI’s chin.
“Don’t you worry.” Dick stands, and I make for the door.
I see his outstretched hand and manage to avoid being patted on the back by it. Even in the dim light
and from where I’m standing, I can see the black dirt under the fingernails.
I cannot get down those stairs fast enough. Once I’m outside the building, I take a deep breath. The
odor was so strong in there I had barely been able to breathe.
I know the man is brilliant and he gets paid well. What the fuck does he do with his money? I know
what he should do with it: invest in a new office, a cleaner, and a makeover team.
 Kayla


With a sigh, I delete the last thousand words I’ve typed onto the screen and watch them disappear.
Ed’s words about a car accident ruin anything I want to write.
I glance at my handwritten notes. During one night this week, I couldn’t sleep, and some good ideas
came to my mind. So as not to forget, I jotted them down.
I’ve decided the brothers’ relationship needs to become the focus. They are going to stop doing
their old tricks. It’s time to decide to do something bigger than they have ever done before.
My notes went on to describe how they masquerade as antique dealers to con this mega rich single
woman into buying a very valuable manuscript from them.
I try again.
The car accident scene refuses to take shape. Any time I start with a car, it turns into an old antique
thing—one this lady drives and the two brothers have their eye on.
I shake my head and decide there’s only one thing I can do right now.
When I come back with my strong hot coffee, I sit down and put fingers to keyboard again.
As I type the opening of the scene, I sigh.
Blast Ed into outer space, I think. Why is he trying to ruin my life? He and Ian, together they are the
odd couple determined to make sure I fail.
I think about the last few days. It’s been great. Scott and I had amazing sex.
And then there had been the mind-blowing sex with Brad.
I shake my head as I stare at my screen, notes, and back at the screen again.
I slam my hand onto my desk. Fuck Ed, I think.
If there’s one thing I know, killing Brad and Scott is not the answer. And I know I don’t only hold
this opinion because I’ve got feelings for both of them.
During my soul searching, I’ve realized I’m more professional than Ed. It might appear to Ed or
some of the others that I am letting my feelings get the better of me, but I disagree.
And what had Ange said to me? It had been something about standing up for what I believe in.
I believe in Scott, and I believe in Brad, and more importantly, I believe in this show.
Drinking my coffee, I curse both Ian and Ed. Instead of sitting here and reveling in all the good
things in my life, I’m sitting here being miserable.
This is a time when I should be enjoying falling in love with two men, and I should be drinking up
my success in the screenwriting world.
Less than two years ago, no one had heard of Kayla, and now over a million viewers watch the
show on which I’m head writer. Not that bad for someone who didn’t like English and whose fifth grade
teacher told her to get ready for a career in hospitality.
 I sigh.
I know what I must do. I must write the script the way I want to write it. And then somehow Ed
needs to be…needs to be what?
It’s good neither one of them are here right now because I’m so tempted to lash out physically. I
ache all over.
Next time Ian makes some smart-ass remark about my writing, I swear I won’t be held responsible
if I hit him.
My gaze moves around the office. What suitable object could I use? I don’t want to hurt my hands
or get blood on them.
I shake my head migthought. What’s happening to me? What level am I stooping to?
I don’t believe in violence.
And yet thoughts of smashing something heavy over Ed’s head are overwhelming.
With a sigh and another sip of my coffee, I straighten up and start typing again.
If I want to change the show, I had to get writing.
My eyes glance at the clock and the little reminder that has been bopping up and down in the top
right-hand corner of my screen.
Shit.
I’m meant to be on set for filming. In my haste to get out the door, I knock my cup of coffee. Hot
black liquid splatters everywhere. Some land on the ke“
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter and grab some tissues to wipe up the mess. Quickly I turn the keyboard
upside down. Coffee drips onto my desk.
After I’ve mopped up most of the mess, I leave my keyboard upside down to make sure it dries out
completely. I doubt the budget would allow for a new one, particularly if I have to confess to being
responsible for its malfunction.
At the lift, I frantically press the down button. For some reason, it seems to take forever to come.
Why is it that when you are in a hurry, technology moves extra slowly? Newton’s law, or was the
guy called Murphy?
With the elevator a no-show, I race to stairs. It’s probably faster to walk.
By the time I’m on the ground floor, my hair is in my face, little beads of sweat are rolling down my
cheek, and I know my makeup will is smudged.
A glance in a mirror from another set confirms my worst fears. I look like a mess.
Breathing heavily, I arrive on set.
All eyes are on me as I open the door. Filming had not started.
“You’re late,” Ian says and sneers. He then looks at Scott and Brad. “Again.”
There’s that intense desire to hit him again. I brush the hair out of my face and
quash the temptation to plant my fist right between his eyes. Deliberate and slow, I walk over to
Derrick. He greets me with a smile and a wave of his left hand.
“Don’t worry, Kayla. You’re just in time,” he says. “We’re about to start.”
With a nod at everyone else, I take up my seat next to the director.
Silently, I congratulate myself for not losing my cool and keeping it together.
 Kayla


I settle into my chair and busy myself with my e-reader. If past takes are anything to go by, I know I
will need to be on hand to help Ian with his lines.
When my fingers find the spot, I finally look up.
Brad and Scott are on set and ready to go. Ian hovers on the edge and seems to be arguing with a
young girl.
“Problem?” I turn to Derrick, who shrugs.
“Let’s roll,” he calls, and everyone takes their place.
This time the scene takes place in the garage of the brothers’ home. They’re about to head out to a
party where they plan to meet their unsuspecting female victim.
I watch Brad and Scott deliver their lines near perfect. I hang on their every word. They are good
—really good.
My decision to write the show my way intensifies. I don’t only owe it to these two great actors, I
also owe it to the viewers.
Ian comes on set. I hold my breath. I watch and listen.
Today at least he remembers most of what he has to say. Luckily, he only has a few words to recall.
It’s really Brad and Scott’s scene.
To an outsider, it might look deliberate. But it wasn’t. For this scene, the focus had to be on what
the older brothers were doing. Ian just had to take a little back seat.
Whilst he remembers what to say, his delivery was still nowhere near as good as that of the other
two. Ian stumbles over some of his words, and as far as delivery is concerned, well it could be done a lot
better. I groan inwardly and shake my head.
The part might only be minor today, but that does not mean it is not important. And of course, it is
no excuse for a poor performance.
I sigh. Ian really needs to go, off-limits or not.
During the break, I see Ian flick through his script. I watch him. His piano fingers move the pages
back and forth.
A storm cloud travels across his face. And then he looks at me.
As he walks over, I know whatever he’s got to say, it’s not going to be complimentary.
“A word,” he hisses, and I can feel some of his spit land on my cheek.
Disgusting.
“Yes?”
I try and remain cool, calm, and collected.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed what you’re trying to do.” More spits come flying my way, and I try
and move to the left to avoid being showered in it.
“It won’t work with me playing the innocent little girl.” Ian is overcome with rage. Out of the
corner of my eyes, I can see Brad move in my direction.
It is heartwarming to know he’s concerned for me; however, at the same time, I don’t want a repeat
of the other day. Life’s complicated enough.
“You are trying to reduce my part. Don’t think I haven’t noticed I have far fewer lines than Brad or
Scott. I’m not stupid.”
Someone, I’m not sure who, whispers that’s debatable, but I don’t laugh.
“If you think you can write me out of the show, you’re wrong. If you don’t start to write more
scenes for me, you’ll be sorry. Really sorry.”
Silently, I pat myself on the back for having stayed calm.
“Finished?” I ask and rise out of my chair.
For this I don’t want to be having to look up at the enemy. And I have decided that is what Ian is,
the enemy.
Part of me wants to wipe his smirk off his face with a heavy object, but there’s nothing suitable
nearby.
“Well, let me tell you something, Ian.”
Someone is putting his hand on my arm. I think it might Derrick, but I shake it off.
“If it wasn’t for your bumbling, idiotic attempts at acting, this show could be fantastic. You are
dragging it down. Not only do you never remember your lines, you can’t deliver them. A dead fish would
have more delivery presence than you do. I have never seen an actor as bad as you.”
“How you can even call yourself an actor is beyond me,” I continue. “You are a disgrace to all
other actors. I’m not sure how you got the job, but if you want to keep it, you should start to put some
effort into it. Better still, why don’t you have someone teach you the basic skills of acting, speaking, and
enunciation? Half the time, I can’t hear what you are saying.”
I take a deep breath in before I continue. “But maybe it’s just that you can’t get any better. Maybe
it’s time you look for a new career. I hear they have a vacancy in garbage collecting right now. Surely
even you with your pea-sized brain should be able to do something like that.”
I stop.
Silence.
No one says anything.
My arms are by my side, and I feel a little quiver run through them.
Ian takes a step toward me.
“You’ll be sorry,” he hisses. “You’ll be sorry you spoke to me this way, and you’ll be sorry you’re
trying to write me out of the show.”
I lift my head and pull my shoulders back. “Appearance is everything,” my ballet teacher used to
say. If you look confident, you will feel confident and ooze confidence.
“Not as sorry as you and your lousy acting career,” I yell at his retreating figure. “You may be
pretending to be an actor, but I’m still the writer.”
I’m not sure if he can hear me. I don’t care. Someone will tell him what I said, I’m sure of it.
Without taking any notice of the other people in the room, most of whom are not quite sure where to
look, I turn to Derrick.
“I’m going home,” I say and pick up my device. “There’s some major rewriting I’ll need to be
doing whilst it is fresh in my mind.”
I leave the set quickly. I don’t want anyone talking to me.
 Brad


I drive to Scott’s house.
I was hoping to avoid this moment, but it can’t be fucking helped; Shauna has warned me that a few
more articles are circulating online, some of which seem to point to the fact that someone knows about
what happened between me, Scott, and Kayla.
I have to let him know all. Maybe he has some insight—maybe he knows who is releasing
information to these stupid celebrity blogs.
But what if he’s the one behind it? I wonder for a moment, but then I just dismiss that thought. Nah,
no, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t hurt Kayla.
He must have heard my car pulling into his driveway as he is looking out the window when I put
my car in park. I glance at him for half a second, and something in his expression immediately tells me he
knows I’m not coming as a bearer of good news.
“Hey, Scott,” I say as he opens his front door.
He steps out.
“Brad.”
“Hey. I want to talk to you about something. You got a minute?”
Scott is clearly uncomfortable; his face tells a tale of stress and worry.
“I got a few minutes, and I think I already know what you want to talk about too.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay…” I leave a pause for him to fill in.
“These fucking articles, man...they’re making the rounds.”
Oh shit. He does know. If he’s seen it, who else has?
How far spread is this stupid thing? “The fucking articles.” I nod. “Yeah. That.”
“Fucking bloggers. Nothing better to do.”
I chime in. “Fucking bloggers. Sitting at home on their fat asses…”
“Kayla hasn’t seen any of these articles yet?” he asks.
“As far as I know. She knows something is up, but she never reads those filthy gossip sites.”
“Thank god for that.” Scott sighs. I can see that at least that info relaxed him some.
“We are going to have to tell her, Brad,” I add. “And soon.”
“We?”
He puts his serious face on to answer. “Yes. We.”
“Shit, Scott. I was hoping to clear this all up before having to tell her. You know. Dodge the fucking
bullet.”
 “Clear this up? What have you done? Have you found out anything?” he says while grasping my
shoulder.
“I put my assistant on it. She’s a stone-cold killer. For real. There are bodies. I don’t know where
they are buried. But I know there are bodies.”
“Seriously, Brad?”
“Yeah.” I don´t like his tone. “Well…what have you done?”
“I visited a private investigator who handles these types of things,” Scott explains. “Hollywood
things. Just like I told you. I had him investigating Ed and Ian, but I told him to keep an eye out for
something that might reveal who’s leaking all this fucking information.”
I can’t believe we’re now working with PIs. Soon enough, we’ll be running some shady black-ops
thing.
“And what did you find out? Anything?”
“Well, clearly someone knows about the three of us. I mean they know-know us. Know us
personally. Most likely, it is someone who is working on the show.”
“No shit.” I have to repeat it to believe it. “Knows us. Works at the show. Fuck. That’s kinda
creepy, Scott.”
“Very creepy.”
“If it is someone who is involved with the show, then they must hate one of us.”
“Or all three.”
“Seems more likely that it’s just one of us. You know, like they are holding a grudge or…” It
suddenly hits me, and I can see Scott is thinking the same thing.
“They want Kayla’s job.”
“Another writer. Shit! They are the jealous types. It’s gotta be, right?”
Scott is silent for a moment. I can see his brain at work. “Maybe? I’m not sure. But it doesn’t matter
anyway. Whoever they are, they are going to regret messing with us. And they are really going to regret
messing with Kayla.”
“Fuck with Kayla and get the horns,” I say. “All four of them.” I then look at Scott and grin. “Four,
right? Shauna normally does my math.”
“Self-deprecating humor? That’s impressive, coming from you. But four’s right, Brad.”
“Good.” I nod. “’Cause I’m pissed. And cowardly little bloggers won’t like me when I’m pissed.”
Scott nods and pats my back. “Let’s go. We got work to do.”
 Kayla


Can my day get any worse? The freezer is empty, and there’s no ice cream left. The cupboards are
bare, and there’s no chocolate.
I frown. How did I forget to stock up on the essential food groups? What’s a girl to do when there’s
no sugar in the house?
Briefly, I toy with the idea of having a glass of wine. But I know drowning my sorrows will not
solve anything.
What will solve my problems?
The answer is obvious, sort of. I know once upon a time the sensible me, the one who never
stepped out of line, would say the way forward is to break it off with Scott and Brad and then bow to Ed’s
demands and write one of them out of the show.
Everyone’s replaceable, I know that.
But something is changing in me. I don’t want to dump Scott and Brad. I can’t explain it, but I love
them both.
I want them both.
So the other option is to work on Ed and Ian.
The niggling feeling deep inside with respect to Ed and Ian is intensifying. There’s something not
quite right about the two of them. I’m sure there’s some kind of secret—a secret I need to discover.
A knock on the door is a welcome distraction.
When my eyes feast on my visitors, my bad mood vanishes for a little while.
“Come in.” I step back and hold out my cheek to receive a kiss.
Both oblige.
As soon as our skins touch, there’s an explosion of desire. Perhaps I won’t need sugar or fat today
to make myself feel better.
Scott produces three large cups of coffee.
“Strong and black.” He holds out a cup for me. “Just the way you like it.”
I grin.
Our fingers touch. “You know me too well,” I purr.
Brad clears his throat.
“And something fatty and full of sugar.”
I wink at him.
“Did you bring cream as well?” As I ask the question, I lick my lips. “There’s so much one can do
with cream.”
Brad chuckles.
 “We forgot the cream.” He turns to Scott and gives him a playful slap on the shoulder.
Scott shrugs.
“Never mind. I’m sure next time we can try the cream.”
We laugh.
I walk to the kitchen to get plates and a knife.
Several minutes later, we are seating on the floor of my living room, backs to the couch.
Mmm, this is nice. I grin inwardly. Pity about the other problem in my life, the one called Ed and
Ian.
By my third mouthful of chocolate cake, I decide I better fess up.
“I know you’re both worried about all these articles. I’ve read them.”
Scott and Brad exchange a quick glance.
Before I say more on the subject, I take a sip of coffee and stuff more cake into my face. Boy, this
feels good.
“I can’t understand why the gossip columnist is going after us,” I say with my mouth full.
Neither Brad nor Scott say anything.
“All this gossip, innuendo, and hinting is making me sick. Why do journos need to write this crap?”
I take another piece of cake. I’m sure later I’ll regret it, but right now I crave more.
“People want to read that shit,” Brad answers my question.
Scott has gone into the kitchen. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but it feels right he treats the place as
his own. It shows commitment on his part.
I lean my head against the back of the couch.
“Do people really want to read about what I have for breakfast, who I fuck, and when I fart?”
Brad laughs.
Scott returns with three tall glasses and a bottle of sparkling red.
“It’s low alcohol,” he announces and deposits his goodies on the coffee table. Then he’s gone
again.
“I mean, I don’t really want to know what Ed gets up.”
“You’re not Ed. You’re Kayla, head writer of a successful television show. People want to read
your gossip.”
“And what’s this bullshit blind gossip anyway?” I feel my insides bubble with anger.
“Well, it leaves it open to speculation.” Scott has come back into the room. This time, he’s carrying
a platter of cheese and biscuits.
“Hardly,” I interject and grab some cheese. “I mean, whoever wrote yesterday’s piece may as well
have used my name.” I try and recall the exact words. I’m sure the writer had referred to the hot new
talented head writer from the show about the three brothers.
As if that leaves people guessing about the identity.
 “Come, Kayla.” Scott has come to sit next to me. “It wasn’t that bad.” I see him glance at Brad.
“And we’re taking care of it.”
I roll my eyes. It’s not that I don’t appreciate what they’re trying to do, but the enormity just hits me.
“At this rate, I’ll soon be more famous for my sex life than for my writing.”
Don’t cry, I think to myself and bite my bottom lip. “I want to be known for my writing.”
Life sucks, I decide. Sure, I know I should be grateful to have these two caring blokes by my side,
but it still sucks.
I’ve worked hard to become a writer, and here I was still trying to prove myself to some dickhead
who shouldn’t be doing the job he was doing.
“Kayla, listen to me.” Brad has taken a hold of my arm.
At his touch, nerve endings tingle in anticipation. Brain activity changes to a different mode.
“Scott and I are looking into it, and we will take care of it.”
“We will Kayla. We won’t let anyone ruin your career.”
I look at Scott and then at Brad.
“And we will make sure we fix it before any major damage is done. Promise,” Brad adds and
kisses me on the tip of my nose. The touch of his lips is light like a feather. A yearning manifests between
my legs for his touch and his lips.
They both sound so earnest and sincere.
“Thank you,” I whisper, a smile dancing on my lips.
 Brad


I’m watching Scott and Kayla discuss the gossip column and all the trouble it’s causing us. It’s
maybe the fifth time they go through it all. I’m starting to get sick of the whole ordeal.
I want it over. Now. I want to get back to my life, and I want to see where this thing with Kayla
could go, without all this added drama.
Truthfully, I’m feeling bad: bad for Scott, bad for Kayla, and bad for myself. I’m imagining all the
crazy things this blogger’s story can say if we don’t stop the madness.
Whoever it is, and whatever information she (or he) has, I know they won’t stop at the truth. Soon
enough, the lies will start, and we’ll be accused of things—truly crazy things. Bat-shit crazy things.
Then it hits me.
Before I know it, I’m formulating a plan in my head that can possibly save the day.
God damn, I’m fucking brilliant.
“…that’s why Brad’s got his assistant out there trying to find out who is responsible. She’s tracking
down sources, reaching out to the bloggers. Brad said she is putting on some serious heat, but I don’t—”
“I got it,” I say, interrupting Scott. “I fucking got it.”
“Got what, Brad?” Kayla asks.
“I have a plan. One that should work. I mean, it works all the time. Why not work for us, right?”
“What’s the plan?” Scott asks.
I smile, beaming and nearly laughing. “You’ve all heard of fake news, right?”
Kayla gives a nod and Scott says, “Of course.”
“Well, what if we start leaking a ton of fake gossip? Some really crazy shit and some really weird
shit. Like crazy, impossible-to-believe, fucked-up shit.”
Scott’s nodding now. He smiles and adds, “We flood the blogs with all sorts of news. These
articles, whatever they keep on saying, will be lost in a sea of other gossip items.”
“People wouldn’t care. There would be so much fake shit out there that they would not know what
is real or fake.”
“And they would stop caring…” Kayla sees it too now. “Brilliant.”
“Exactly!” I cheer. “Think about it. When you are on Facebook and click one of those links—the
ones that say ‘15 reasons to and 10 reasons not to….blah, blah, blah’—what do you do when you are on
the third item and an advertisement pops up and interrupts you?”
“I ‘x’ out. I hate that!” Kayla says, grumbling.
“Me too.” Grinning ear to ear, I keep on, “I hate it, so I just quit and move to another post.”
“Brad, you might have just saved all our careers. I see this as working, I really do. And I can think
of a few crazy things to put out there that will make people realize this is all just…”
 “Whacky shit.”
“Yeah. Whacky shit.”
“I can write up maybe…forty or fifty items. But how do we distribute them?” Kayla asks.
“Emails. All we need are some fake Gmail accounts to go with our fake gossip stories.”
Scott pulls out his phone, waving it in the air. “I’ll start making email accounts.”
Kayla rises from her chair and bounces up and down—a show, I, for one, am glad I do not miss.
“I’ll get my laptop and start writing blind times and fake stories.”
“Great,” I say, whispering to myself. “Damn, you look hot.”
As she’s dashing out of the room, she yells back, “This could be fun.”
“Hey, Kayla, write a story about me being abducted by aliens.”
“And make sure you note how he was anally probed.” Scott’s laughing before he can finish the
joke. “And loved it.”
I run my fingers through my hair and then pick up my drink. After a sip, I reply. “Takes one to know
one, Scott.”
“Alien?”
“Um, no,” I say, sneering. “Someone who loves being anally probed.”
“Epic comeback, Brad. You’re stepping up your game.”
“Thanks.”
I text Shauna, wanting updates. She replies that she has none. Following up, I simply dial her
number and call her.
I explain to her the whole plan, and she just listens to it.
“Brad,” she finally says when I’m done. “I have a list of all the blogs I was searching and looking
into. These are the blogs you need to send your fake gossip to. These are the ones people visit the most.”
“Excellent. Great work.”
“I must say I’m proud of you, Brad. This is a great plan,” Shauna says over the phone.
“Thanks. Sometimes I surprise even myself.”
“Like I say all the time, all you need, Brad, is the right inspiration. And Kayla is just that.”
Looking at Kayla, the smile on her face as she’s typing away, I cannot disagree with Shauna.
She’s right.
 Scott


There’s the same fucking cockroach staring at me again. What’s wrong with this dude?
As I walk past him, I do a double take. Is this thing wearing armor? And boxing gloves?
Without getting too close, I peer at it. I know I’ve not consumed any alcohol, so I can’t be drunk.
Maybe the stress is getting to me, but I swear this bug is not normal.
This time, Dick Burstfly is not there to open the door for me, but I’ve come prepared.
I retrieve a tissue from my pocket and use it to first knock and then turn the door handle.
“Come in,” calls Dick, and I wonder if he has any kind of filing system or if it simply pushes the
papers from a finished case onto the floor.
I walk in and trip over something soft and squishy. My insides turn as I imagine what it might be.
“Get out,” yells Dick, and I’m shocked until I see the grey fur ball.
With a hiss and a spit, the cat leaps up and disappears through a cat flap in a side door.
I sneeze. I’m allergic to cats. Great, fucking fantastic.
I don’t have my allergy medication on me. I sneeze again. My eyes are starting to water, and I resist
the urge to rub them.
“You got something?”
I need to get out of here quickly.
Dick rubs those sausage fingers together and grins.
“Take a seat, Scotty. Take a seat.”
I’d rather keep standing, but it seems the PI won’t part with any information unless I’m sitting.
With a sigh and another sneeze, I perch on the edge of the seat.
I look around and wonder if it is possible for this place to have gotten filthier and messier in such a
short amount of time.
“Now.” Dick’s voice stops me midthought.
“Hope it’s good,” I mumble and keep an eye out for the mutant cockroach, who I suspect is planning
a takeover of the apartment, office, and maybe even the business.
“Let’s start with this one.”
Sausage fingers fumble through a pile of papers and produce the photo of Ed.
“He’s in real strive.”
Images of Ed with multiple prostitutes fucking him in compromising positions come to mind. Yuck.
Disgusting.
“Your man, Ed, basically has no money. He’s broke, or almost broke.”
I frown. What’s so bad about not having money? I feel disappointment wash over me like a bucket
of ice-cold water.
 “I don’t see,” I start, but Dick interrupts me.
“The man’s got a gambling problem.”
It still doesn’t seem so bad to me. I’m sure there are plenty of other people who have a gambling
problem.
“That’s it?” I try not to sound too annoyed. Maybe Dick Burstfly is losing it. That’s what happened
to some people, they got to the top of their game and stalled at the height of their success before crashing
to the ground, landing hard.
Dick shakes his head.
“Now this fellow,” he says as he points to the picture of Ian, which by now has multiple other
unidentifiable stains all over. “This one was a lot harder to crack. But crack him I did.”
I sure hope this is better than what he’s given me so far.
I’m not sure how well Brad will take the news that all we can get on Ed is a gambling habit and
hardly any funds in the bank.
“You see, sometimes its less obvious, the connection, the dirt. Know what I mean?”
I shake my head. Fucking lunatic is talking in riddles. I sneeze again.
“Okay. So I told you Ed here has a gambling problem…”
“Got it,” I reply and resist a smart-ass remark.
“However, even though Ed is broke, he is able to maintain a pretty good lifestyle and stay afloat,
unlike some other gambling tragics. Now you might wonder why that is.”
I don’t really fucking care, but I don’t say this to Dick. Instead, I wait, my patience wearing thin.
“So after some digging around, I discovered someone is funding him. Someone is giving him
money.”
I wonder where this is going and glance at my watch. Ten minutes of my life wasted sitting in this
dump. I take a deep breath in and exhale slowly. Stay calm.
“It wasn’t too hard to work out who was giving Ed money. Ed has a sister—a sister who seems
very attached to her brother, or so at least it seems on the surface. Sibling or not, it seems strange to keep
giving him money.”
“Is there a fucking point to all this, Dick?” I’m getting pissed off with this long-winded story of the
PI.
“Sorry, Scotty. Of course there’s a point. Ed’s sister has a son. A son called Ian. A rather useless,
unemployable son called Ian.”
Finally, the light globe turns on.
I get it.
“Papers?”
Dick hands me a surprisingly clean-looking envelope.
“All in here, my friend.”
 Before he hands it over, he holds out his other hand.
“For a reward, it’s yours.”
I pull out my wallet and throw five thousand bucks onto the desk. With greedy fingers, Dick grabs
the money and shoves it in his top draw.
With the evidence in hand, I leave.
“Pleasure doing business,” Dick calls to me just before I close the door.
I hope I won’t have to come back to this dump ever again.
The fucking roach is still sitting where it was when I walked in. I stop and glare at it, and I swear it
glares back.
I’m tempted to take a photo and show it to Brad and Kayla. But then again, I don’t want them to
think me a fool.
Outside, I mull over the information Dick gave me. Only now I realize how bad the gambling habit
and being broke really is if one is a producer.
I don’t know many networks who want to employ a producer who cannot manage their own
finances and are reliant on someone else’s money. When this gets out, no one will hire Ed ever again as a
producer.
I can’t wait to tell Kayla and Brad what I’ve found out.
 Brad


Sitting at home, I’m feeling pretty darn good. I’ve spent the afternoon with Scott and Kayla. We
wrote and distributed fifty-five fake gossip items about the three of us.
I’m sure that will be enough—no matter what the gossip is about, the blogger releasing all these
stories will just be washed away in the flood we created.
Fuck you, whoever you are. You and the asshole leaking information. Fuck you both.
Shauna’s coming over for dinner. Actually, she’s bringing dinner. Chinese food from my favorite
restaurant.
I’m really looking forward to some egg rolls and some pork low mien tonight.
I’m flipping channels on my big screen plasma TV, looking for a something with a sci-fi flare that I
can watch until she gets back.
I’m kinda hoping this one movie, the space movie with the giant bugs, is on. Every time I flip by it,
I end up watching it. It gets me. Every damn time, it gets me.
Unfortunately, I’m not finding it. Lots of teen drama movies are on. Not even the good kinds with a
touch of horror, just the sappy, whiny kinds.
When I was that age, I was busy playing video games and hitting on the hottest girls in class, not
crying and moping about. Times sure have changed.
I can hear Shauna’s car pull in the driveway. My stomach growls. Just in time.
“Hey, Shauna. Your timing is absolutely perfect. I’m just—”
Shauna runs into the living room. I’ve never seen her so happy or excited before. You’d think she
won the lottery.
“You were just getting ready to give me an all-expense paid vacation to the Caribbean. Don’t
protest—I’m right.”
“Wait? Was I?” I say, smiling.
“And you are gonna rent me one of those luxury jets so me and my family can fly in style.”
“Whoa. Really?”
She places the food down on my kitchen table, and while retrieving her phone from her oversized
purse, she nods. “Yeah, really.”
Sitting at the table, I’m both intrigued and hungry, so I unpack the food while asking, “What did you
do to deserve all this? Did you get me extra egg rolls?”
“I did better. So much better,” she says, pointing to her phone. “I got answers.”
“Answers?” It suddenly occurs to me what she’s speaking about and why she’s so happy. “Answer-
answers? You found out who?”
“I did.”
 “Holy shit, Shauna.” I stand up so quickly, I spend everything on the table into motion, nearly
spilling my food and drink. “Who? Spill it! The info, I mean.”
“Ian and Ed are the blind item sources. The blogs have been paying them for dirt.”
“Ian and Ed. Those motherfuckers!” I slam my open hand down on the table, shaking everything
there again. “I can’t fucking believe it.” Well, fuck, it makes sense, doesn’t it?
Shauna paces back and forth as she continues, clearly trying to expel all the energy inside her. “And
you’ll never guess how I found out, Brad.”
“How?”
“I found out from talking to Shelby.”
“Shelby?” I wrinkle my brow. “My Shelby? I mean my X-Shelby. My ex-girlfriend, Shelby?”
“Yes.”
“How the hell?”
Shauna stops; gathering herself a moment. “Shelby is dating a friend of mine. I never told you that?”
“Um…no.”
“Well, she is. She’s very happy. I mean, they are very happy.”
I shrug at her comment. “Great… So….”
“So, Ian and Ed told Shelby, thinking she would love hearing how they are destroying your career.
But Shelby isn’t bitter because she is happy in her new relationship. Happier than she’s ever been.”
Her words both irk and excite me. Mostly irk.
Ed and Ian. Shelby happier than ever.
What the fuck. I need to call Scott. He’s gonna love this.
“So what do you think?” Shauna says. “Did I earn my vacation?”
She did. She earned it and more.
“Shauna, you earned a month’s worth of time off. Contact my assistant”—I’m teasing now, but it’s
the honest truth—“have her set you up. All expenses paid for!”
“You think your assistant will be jealous?” she says, laughing.
“Nah.”
Shauna looka at me funny; I’m forgetting something. Oh, right.
“And I’ll rent you a luxury jet too.”
She cheers and gives a loud “Woot!”
“One month. What will you do for a whole month?”
“Two weeks is fine, Brad. You wouldn’t be able to survive without me for more than that. A
month? I’d come back and you’d be jobless, broke, starving, and—”
“Naked.”
“Exactly.”
Walking around the table, I put my hand up for a high-five. “You’re the best, Shauna.”
SLAP!
“We’re the best, Brad. We make an excellent team. Like Batman and Robin.”
I smirk, and she smirks back. I know what that means. “That makes me Robin, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does, Brad.”
 Kayla


I check my reflection. Looks good. Tight black skirt, white blouse, black jacket, and matching shoes
give me the serious writer look I want to portray.
Today’s a special day, and I have to look my best.
Ian and Ed wanted a war…and they’re about to get one.
“You look hot,” Scott whispers in my ear as he walks past. I quash the flicker of desire with
thoughts of ice water.
A quick check of my wristwatch confirms that the head of the network should be walking through
the door to our set any second. And right on queue, he comes in.
I nod in his direction and am pleased to see Derrick intercept him before Ed gets to him.
With a deep breath, I walk to the set.
Brad and Scott both smile at me in an encouraging sort of way. They know what’s about to happen.
Scott gives me the thumbs up.
I catch a glimpse of Ian and Ed in an intense discussion. This is going to be so good.
A feeling of schadenfreude overcomes me already. Pricks, both of them. They deserve what’s about
to happen.
“What’s going on, Kayla?” Ed stops me midstep.
Is that fear I hear in his voice?
“Baby cakes, tell me what you’re up to.”
“I told you not to call me that,” I say coolly and push past him.
Ian is now by Ed’s side.
“What did she tell you?” I hear Ian ask Ed, but I just ignore the two of them.
I push past them. When I’m on the set, I take a bundle of papers from one of the prop boys.
“First of all, let me welcome Mr. Prong, head of the network, to the set today.” I pause to applaud.
The others join me. “I have invited the honorable Mr. Prong to watch our filming today.”
I pause to relish in the electric atmosphere and then add, “There’s been a rewrite.”
Ian snorts, and Ed visibly tenses.
“Here’s the amended script.”
I walk over to Ian and Ed to give them the paper.
Frantically, Ian flicks through the pages. His face visibly whitens to the color of a ghost.
“She can’t do this, Ed.” Ian’s voice is near hysterical.
“Oh, yes I can,” I reply for Ed.
Ed glares at me.
“Really, Kayla. I thought we talked about this.” He holds the typed pages toward me.
 I nod. “We did, and you did not want to listen to my ideas. You dictated what should happen, and
your ideas were not in the best interest of the show but in the best interest of yourself.”
I hear Ian gasp in disbelief. I chuckle inwardly. He must have read about his own death.
When I had made up my mind to kill Ian off, I had to work out how.
“You can’t kill me off.” Ian is almost hyperventilating. “Did you see this?”
He is waving the pages in front of Ed’s face.
“She has written total nonsense. It says here I’m walking along drunk on the main road when I stop
to stare at oncoming lights. Since I think the lights belong to two bike riders, I do not move. And I don’t
realize the oncoming lights are from a tram until it is almost too late. But before the tram can kill me, a
crane lifting heavy metal poles onto a building site looses a pole, which lands on top of me.”
With an expressionless face, I look from Ed to Ian.
“What’s the problem? You’d rather be killed by the tram? There are no lines for you to remember,
so it shouldn’t take too long to film this scene.”
Ed takes a step toward me.
“You know Ian is off-limits.”
I flinch, but only because Ed has an unpleasant mouth odor.
“You cannot threaten me anymore,” I say and take a step back. “I know your little secret, and in a
minute, so will everyone else.”
A mixture of shock, disbelief, and horror reflects in Ed’s face. He looks at his phone.
“As much as I want to hear more of your little make-believe stories, I’ve got to take this.”
Not this time, sunshine. I reach for the stupid device and pull it out of his hand. The element of
surprise is on my side.
“Not this time, Ed.”
I throw the phone in a wide arc across the room.
“Now that I have your full attention, let me tell you what I know. I know about your gambling debts.
I know your sister is helping you out financially. If it weren’t for her, you’d be broke already. A gambling
habit is rather expensive, isn’t it?” I pause, not because I want an answer, but more for dramatic effect.
“Now one wonders why your sister would help you out like that. What’s in it for her? She’s not
doing it for fame. What is she doing it for?” I add.
I love this. It’s finally payback time. That little shit will be unlikely to get another acting job around
here any time soon.
“But if one knows the family tree, it is not really hard to know why she’s doing it. She’s a mother,
doing what any mother would do if her son had no talent. She’s giving you, her brother, money, and in
return, you make sure Ian baby here works as an a actor at all costs.”
I glance at Ian. He seems to be fighting back the tears.
“And then, to make a little on the side, you sold information about me, Brad, and Scott to some
bloggers so they could write trash about us.”
To my surprise, Ed does not try and refute what I’ve said. Instead, he goes over to where his phone
landed, picks it up, and then leaves the set without another word.
Ian hovers on the same spot for a few more seconds before he, too, leaves.
Brad and Scott are still smiling. Brad is applauding.
Pride swells in me. I wish Angela could see me. Finally, I have stood up for what I believe in.
“Shouldn’t be too hard to film the killing scene, even if Ian does not come back,” announces
Derrick, and I laugh.
Mr. Prong waves me over to him.
“Looks like the two of us need to meet and discuss the future of the show and you.”
 Kayla


I smell the roses on my desk and buzz Lydia, the office junior, to bring a jug of water and glasses to
my office.
As I wait, I admire the new painting hanging on the wall directly opposite my workspace. It arrived
a few days ago.
Attached to it was a little note: From your greatest admirers.
Every time I look at it, I’m overcome with gratitude. How lucky am I to have such supportive
people in my life?
The painting is of a boat tied to a pier. I love the blue of the ocean and the story the boat tells.
Every time I’m stuck for ideas, I stare at the painting, and words start to flow again.
A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts.
“Come in,” I call.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Brad pokes his head through the door, closely followed by Scott.
“He’s not here yet?”
I shake my head.
“But he’s not due for another five minutes or so.”
Brad checks his watch.
“Told you there’s no need to rush.” He turns to Scott.
“But if we hadn’t rushed, we’d be late.”
I look from one to the other and back again, following their friendly banter, much like following a
tennis match.
A polite cough from the door stops the conversation.
“I hope I’m not interrupting something?”
I leave my desk and walk to the door to greet Mr. Prong.
“On the contrary, Mr. Prong, we were just talking about you coming to the meeting.”
We all take a seat.
“I have to say, Kayla, I have been very impressed with your work.”
Straight to the point and no pleasantries—time’s money for this man as it is for me. Since Ed’s
walkout and my explosive speech—that’s what Brad calls it—I’ve been bursting with creativity. The
ideas and words pour onto the page.
“She’s an excellent writer,” adds Brad as if he needs to convince the head of the network to keep
me on.
Butterflies multiply in the pit of my stomach, and a feeling of warmth hugs me. Power, control, love
—they are awesome feelings.
 “She’s that and other things,” Mr. Prong agrees.
I clear my throat. It is time to stay cool, calm, and collected, I remind myself.
“As I was saying, you’ve impressed me and the other members on the board. We’ve noticed a
significant increase in ratings since you took control of the writing and got rid of that useless actor.”
Mr. Prong pauses. I notice his fingers twirl a pen through his hands.
“Thank you.” I bow my head a little, more to break the silence than anything else. I don’t have much
experience in the world of business and negotiations, so I’m a little nervous.
True to my ballet teacher’s words, I involuntarily straighten up and instantly feel taller and calmer.
Dance with confidence and no one will know if you are dancing the wrong moves.
“I have had our legal department draw up some paperwork,” Mr. Prong continues and puts a thick
bundle of papers in front of me.”
He reaches into his briefcase a second time to pull out more papers. It looks intimidating.
“And these are for you.” He smiles at Brad and Scott as he hands them a slightly thinner bundle of
papers. On second thought, it might not be thinner at all.
I randomly flick through the pages, and the words blur in front of my eyes.
“I don’t expect you to read through all of it now,” Mr. Prong says, and I look at him. “Today I want
to focus on the key points of the contract, like the length of time. You will get plenty of opportunity to read
though it and ask any questions later.”
“I see you have the length of the contract blank,” Brad says, and I find it is the same on mine.
“I thought we should do two years,” Mr. Prong says and leans back in his chair.
It’s my turn to play with my pen. Instead of engaging in acrobats with it, I unscrew its back and put
it back on.
“Two years in this industry isn’t very long.” I glance at Scott and Brad.
Scott is holding up five fingers. My thoughts exactly.
“What did you have in mind?” Mr. Prong is polite in his question.
“I think it should be at least five years. This show isn’t one of those fly-by-night, five-minutes ones.
It is here for the long haul.”
I hold my breath as I watch Mr. Prong scribble something on his contract.
“Done. Anything else?”
That was easy. Was it too easy? Do I need to be on guard?
I clear my throat.
“There’s a couple of other matters I would like to address now before we are too far down the
track and it becomes too difficult to raise again.”
It is Mr. Prong’s turn to bow his head a little.
“I want full creative rights as head writer.”
I hold up my hand as I see Mr. Prong wants to say something.
 “That does not mean I won’t consult with others on the team. I am a team player, very much so. But
I don’t want to have happen what happened with Ed.”
I might have put too much emphasis on the words team player, but I want to get my point across.
Silence.
Eventually, Mr. Prong scribbles something on the page.
“Agreed. Anything else?”
I take a deep breath in. “I want you to give me the position of producer as well.”
“You?” Mr. Prong doesn’t hide his surprise. There may even be a hint of disapproval in his voice.
“You have no experience as a producer, from what I recall.”
This might be harder than I thought.
I nod. No point disagreeing. If I’m going to sell myself, I need to be honest.
“You are right, I have never worked as a producer. But I have all the right qualities. I have an
abundance of creativity.” I pause to think what else I need to add.
“I am able to lead a team of diverse people. My planning and organizational skills are exceptional,
and I can work to a budget.”
If he doesn’t agree, I don’t know what else I can say.
To my surprise, Mr. Prong nods.
“Done.” He makes to stand.
“If you can, have signed contracts back to my assistant within the week. Let her know if you need
any other changes included.”
When he’s gone, Scott comes over and picks me up to twirl me around once. Brad comes over and
hugs me.
“You were awesome, gorgeous,” both say at the same time.
I grin from ear to ear. Boy, I feel good.
Brad takes my right hand and Scott my left. They both look me in the eyes.
“Baby,” Scott starts. “We just want you to know we think the world of you, and we’ll be with you
every step of the way.”
Brad nods.
“The way you kick ass, I love it.” Brad kisses me on the cheek.
I feel tears well up—tears of happiness.
“Kayla,” they both say, and I look from one to the other. “We love you.”
I put my arms around both of them.
I lean forward, and Scott finds my mouth. He pushes his tongue past my lips and finds mine.
I feel Brad’s hands travel up my top and squeeze my breasts. My lips leave Scott’s and finds
Brad’s.
I know how we’ll be celebrating for the rest of the day.
 Kayla


I’ve been happy before, but I don’t think anything compares to what I’m feeling right now.
It all worked out. Everything seemed stacked against me – against us – but the stars aligned and
we’ve made it.
And now here we are.
Just the three of us.
“Time to celebrate, boys,” I chuckle gently, looking from one to the other, my heart drumming
wildly inside my chest. More than lust, there’s passion and love running through my veins. There’s
happiness, there’s joy, and all the good things everyone deserves to have in their lives.
“A celebration, huh?” Scott whistles, coming up to me and resting his hands on my waist.
Grabbing me, he pulls me into him and crushes my mouth with his, his tongue parting my lips and
wrestling against mine with a kind of unbridled fury. As he kisses me, he pushes me back against the wall,
pinning me there. His arms go around my waist and he grabs me by the ass, his long fingers squeezing my
cheeks as our lips remain locked together.
“I want you so fucking much,” I hear Brad say, and I open my eyes to meet his gaze. He’s leaning
against the wall, right next to me, and his parted lips tell me that he’s waiting for his turn.
I don’t like to keep anyone waiting.
Pulling back from Scott, I throw one arm around Brad’s neck and pull him into me, my mouth
hungrily looking for his. We lock lips, and I close my eyes again as we surrender to a passionate kiss, one
brimming with lust and love.
When all this started out, I never thought I’d end up falling in love. But that was silly of me. How
could I not fall in love with men like these? They’re perfect in every sense of the world – their bodies,
their minds, their souls. Everything in them seems to have been designed to make me happy.
“You’re mine,” Scott whispers against my neck, kissing my soft skin and pulling it between his
teeth.
“And mine,” Brad breathes against my lips, one of his hands grabbing at my breasts, my nipples
hardening against the inside of my bra.
“And you,” I smile, pulling back from them and looking from one to the other, “are mine.”
“I couldn’t put it any better,” Brad grins, and with that he presses his body against mine. I can
already feel his erection against my inner thigh, his cock like a wild animal that can smell its prey. Except
in this case the prey wants to be devoured, and that as quickly as possible.
“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, and fuck me now,” I find myself saying, my forehead pressed against
Brad’s as the words leave my lips.
“What? No foreplay?” Scott teases me, moving fast and sliding one hand under the hem of my
dress. His fingers go straight to the wetness between my legs, and he presses the palm of his hand against
my pussy. The moment he does it, a loud moan leaves my lips, the sound of voice blanketing whatever
thoughts still floated inside my mind.
I open my mouth to reply to Scott, but I don’t find the words. I just moan again, and then again.
“I love the way you moan, Kayla,” Brad tells me, nibbling at my bottom. “I could hear you moan
and scream all day long.”
“I agree,” Scott chuckles, and with that he grabs my thong and flicks it to the side. Without a
moment’s hesitation, he slides his index finger inside me and curls it upward until it meets my G-spot.
The moment I feel the pressure in there, it’s as if my spine has turned into a column of fire. I feel my
flesh burning, my eyes roll in their orbits, and I throw my head back against the wall.
“Fuck,” I hiss, my pussy tightening around his finger as I come.
Hell, this was fast.
“Someone’s ready,” I hear Brad say while Scott slides his finger out of my pussy.
My eyes are still closed, but I hear the sound of a belt coming undone, and a zipper being pushed
down. Next thing I know, I feel a thick cock pressing against my inner lips, and I open my eyes just in time
to see Brad grinning as he thrusts.
“OH GOD!” I moan again, throwing my arms over his shoulders as he drives all of his inches
inside me. Needing more than to feel just one man, my right hands darts to Scott’s waist and I try to
unbuckle his belt clumsily.
I manage to do it somehow, keeping my focus while Brad thrusts over and over again, and I push
both his pants and boxers down. Scott’s cock springs free in a fraction of a second, slapping the back of
my hand hard, and I just grab his shaft and start stroking him as hard as I can.
With one cock in my hand and the other inside my pussy, I finally close my eyes and throw my head
back once more, simply savoring the moment. For someone that wasn’t that sure about threesomes, I think
I’m doing pretty well.
“Harder, harder, harder,” I repeat over and over again, saying it so many times that the word
‘harder’ simply loses its meaning. Not that I need to worry – Brad has heard me, and he’s not the kind of
guy to ignore a request like that.
Moving his hips as fast as is humanely possible, Brad drives his cock so deep into me that I have
no other option but to jump up. He reacts fast, grabbing me by the ass and pulling me up and into me. I
lace my legs around his waist, his cock buried so deep inside me that I see fireworks going off behind my
shut eyelids. I sway my hips hard, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
“I’m going to....” I trail off as a violent tightness takes over my chest, my heart shrinking as pleasure
wraps itself around it.
Sweet mercy, have I died and gone to Heaven?
 Scott


As good as it is to watch Kayla’s expression as she comes, I want more than just be a spectator.
Sure, I don’t mind Brad fucking her, but I want a piece myself.
We have all the time in the world, yeah, but when it comes to Kayla I don’t want to risk it. I want to
enjoy every single second as if it were the last. I want to live my life one day at a time, burning each and
every one of her smiles into my memory forever.
Fuck, who knew that a guy like me would end up falling in love? If anyone told me I’d be head over
heels now (let’s not mention the fact that another guy’s involved), I’d just laugh like a maniac. That’s the
most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, I can hear myself say to someone capable of making such a
premonition.
But the truth is, these past few weeks have been the best in my entire life. Sure, my career’s looking
better and better (and that’s because of The King’s success), but my happiness has nothing to do with that
– I’m just happy because of the way things have worked out between me, Scott and Kayla.
We love her, she loves us…and that’s all I need to be a happy man.
“I want you,” I whisper, reaching for Kayla’s hand and pulling her into me, my mouth desperately
looking for hers. My hands work fast in a blur of movement, pushing all clothes off from her body, and I
only stop when she’s completely naked in front of us, her tight little body ready for the taking.
Grinning, I place my hands on her waist and force her to turn around, pushing her against the wall.
She places her hands on the wall at shoulder-height, and thrusts her ass back at me. Closing in on her, I
slap her ass cheeks with the back of my hand and take my mouth to her neck, kissing her smooth skin while
I breathe in the scent of her hair.
“I don’t know what you fucking did to me,” I whisper into her hair, “but you’ve made me the
happiest man on Earth.”
“The happiest men on Earth,” Brad corrects me, closing the distance between him and her and
kissing the other side of her neck. As he does it, I take my free hand to my cock and push it down between
her thighs. I hold my breath as I feel her wetness against the tip of my cock and, without a moment’s
hesitation, I simply thrust, driving all my inches deep inside her.
She gasps as my thickness travels all the way inside her, and I close my eyes as I feel her tight
pussy choking my cock. I start thrusting slowly, building up the rhythm more patiently than I thought would
be possible, but it doesn’t take long for me to submit to a crazy frenzy of lust.
Pistoning into her hard, I smile as I hear the sound of flesh-on-flesh, her moans blending with it to
create the most perfect song I’ve ever heard. Fuck, I’ve never been the kind of guy to go all lyrical and
shit, but I just can’t help it when it comes to Kayla – sex with her is like fucking magic.
I wouldn’t be surprised if I opened my eyes and saw little unicorns frolicking around while
rainbows shot up from one end of the office to the other.
“I love you so fucking much,” I whisper as I fuck her, my body moving so fast that I feel sweat
trickling down my back. Her body feels warm against mine, and her pussy keeps on becoming tighter and
tighter around my cock. Soon enough she’ll come undone.
“I love you too…” She moans, smiling and opening her eyes. She looks back at me over her
shoulder and then back to Brad. Taking one hand off the wall, she reaches for Brad and curls her fingers
around his cock, stroking him while I ravage her sweet pussy.
“Don’t stop, Scott, don’t you stop!” She pleads me, and I’m more than happy to fulfill her request.
Hooking my fingers on her hips, I start ramming my cock into her pussy as I can, the sound of my thighs
slapping her ass echoing inside her office.
“Is this how you want it?” I whisper into her hair, my movements furious.
“Yes, yes, yes…” She breathes out between thrusts, her voice quivering as she nears ecstasy. She
hisses and presses her forehead against the wall, her eyes closed as the lines in her face deepen.
“Oh, my fucking God!” She gasps, her pussy becoming so tight that I wouldn’t be surprised if it
broke my cock in half. It doesn’t, of course – but I do have to hold my breath and tense up to stop myself
from coming right here and now.
Slowly, I slide my cock off her pussy and take a step back, my lungs and heart working overtime.
Fuck, she leaves me spent every single time. I was the kind of guy that could go all night long (and I still
do, of course), but Kayla never settles for anything less than my A-game.
“I’ve had the two of you already, one at a time,” she starts, turning around on her heels and pressing
her back against the wall. “Now I think it’s time for the two of you to share me, don’t you think?” She
continues, the words share me falling from between her lips like silk.
My cock twitches at the thought, and I just know that the next time my cock’s inside here there’ll be
no way I’ll be capable of stopping myself from coming. No, this is the final stretch, and I’m more than
ready to be torn apart by pleasure.
“Sharing you seems like the best thing I’ve heard all day,” I whisper, and then take one step toward
her.
 Brad


“You want to be shared, you’ll be shared,” I say, looking at Kayla as my heart kicks inside my
chest. I never thought I’d be in a situation like this, where I’d have to share the woman I love with another
man, but here I am. And the weird thing is, I don’t give two fucks about that.
As long as we’re together, the three of us, things will be alright.
“Oh, you’ll be shared alright,” Scott adds, walking up to her and pushing her against the wall once
more. Leaning in, he kisses her softly, brushing his lips against hers. I walk up to them, lean back against
the wall by Kayla’s side and then grab her hand. Stealing her from Scott, I pull her into me.
“Oh,” she gasps, pressing her naked body against mine, her breasts pressed against my chest. I feel
her hard nipples against my skin, and my cock twitches hard, eager to have more of her.
“Is this what you want?” I ask her, grabbing my cock with one hand and angling it down. I brush the
tip of my cock up and down the length of her wet pussy, and I have to use all of my willpower to stop
myself from thrusting right away.
“That’s exactly what I want,” she purrs, biting on her bottom lip.
“Then you’ll have it,” I reply, taking both my hands to her ass and pulling her up and into me.
Reacting fast, she laces her legs around my waist and throws her arms over my shoulders. I bend my
knees just an inch, angling my cock so that it’s pointing straight at her pussy, and she lowers herself over
it.
“Oh, fuck,” she moans as my shaft slides deep inside her.
“Now, now…I want in,” Scott says, walking up behind her and running his fingers down the side of
her body, his fingertips going over the curve of her ass. He runs one finger along her crack, lingering on
her hole, and then he just grabs his cock and presses its tip there.
Kayla goes from biting on her bottom lip to gritting her teeth, her eyes closed as she prepares for
the onslaught of pleasure that’s about to come her way.
“Do it, do it,” she asks Scott, her head still thrown back.
Scott doesn’t answer her with words. Instead, he simply starts pushing his cock inside her ass,
taking his time as inch by slow inch his cock takes over her insides. The moment he’s deep inside her,
both of our cocks claiming her body, Kayla sighs heavily.
“I love you, I love you so much,” she cries out, her fingernails digging deep into my shoulder
blades.
“Then you’re in good company,” I chuckle softly.
“You are, because you’re everything to us. You’re the world to us, Kayla, never forget that,” Scott
adds, and I can’t help but feel happiness wash over me as a bright smile takes over Kayla’s lips.
“Then fuck me like you mean it,” she manages to say. And we don’t waste a single second. We start
slowly, sliding our cocks in and out of her ass at a steady tempo, but we keep on increasing the pace. I
keep on holding her close to me, her legs still locked around my waist, and I feel like never letting go.
I want this, whatever you can call this relationship, for the rest of my life.
We deserve all this pleasure.
We deserve all this happiness.
We build the pace for a few minutes, but soon enough we’re fucking her as if our life depended on
it. Her moans and screams of utter pleasure fill the whole office, but I’m not even sure of how loud she’s
being.
My brain is too busy trying to process all the pleasure I’m feeling right now, and it has shut down
all secondary functions. All I know is that Kayla’s having the time of her life – and so are we – and that’s
all that matters. As long as Kayla’s happy, we’ll be happy.
“As hard…as hard as you can,” she begs us, her voice trembling as she drags her fingernails across
my back. She’s exhausted and spent, but she seems to want to go out with a bang. Well, we’re happy to
provide exactly what she wants.
I grit my teeth and start fucking her as relentlessly as I can, sweat pouring down my muscles as I
push my body past the point of exhaustion, working it to the limit. Thank fuck I like being active and spend
a lot of time in the gym – I would never be able to fuck her like this if I wasn’t in top shape.
Scott’s probably thinking the same.
His eyes are closed, his hands on her hips. Rocking his body against her hard, I can tell he’s close
to his breaking point, each and every line on his face telling me that he won’t be able to resist for much
longer. Well, fuck it – it’s the same for me.
“Come for me...come for me, boys,” Kayla says, clawing at my back, and that does it for me. The
moment I feel her coming, her pussy lips spasming around my cock, I can’t resist it any longer. I groan
loudly and surrender to the fire ravaging my insides, my cock pulsing hard as I shoot all my load inside of
her tight little pussy.
“Fuck,” Scott groans at the same time, and he stops moving all together, an expression of pure bliss
taking over his face as he comes inside Kayla’s ass.
We remain like that for what seems like forever, the three of us surrendering to the way ecstasy has
blanketed us. Only when I feel my knees buckling under my weight do I allow Kayla to climb down from
my body.
We slide our cocks off her and, moving as if the three of us are in sync, we lean back against the
wall and slide down to the floor.
Sitting down on the floor of her office, all of us trying to catch our breath, I realize something I had
never understood before.
Love isn’t about feelings, chocolates and roses. It isn’t about music, poetry, or any of that bullshit.
Love is about a connection, a mingling of souls. And it’s rare…very, very rare.
I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I found love now.
 Kayla


“Hurry,” Brad calls from the living room. “You’ll miss it.”
I roll my eyes and stifle a yawn.
“You want coffee don’t you?” I call back and press the button on our new shiny beast, the latest and
greatest coffee machine money can buy.
“Food?” Scott comes into the kitchen and turns on the oven.
I shrug. It’s a bit early to be thinking about eating and I will need at least one strong caffeine hit
before I can make decisions of importance.
“Voila,” Scott produces croissants from somewhere.
“Yum.” My stomach now growls even though only a few minutes ago I could have sworn I’m not
hungry.
“What are you two doing?” calls Brad from the living. “You better not be doing something I should
be part of.”
We giggle.
“Don’t worry Brad,” I reply. “We’re just getting food.”
Just at that moment Brad’s head appears in the kitchen.
“Just checking,” he grins.
Several minutes later we are all huddled around our new oversized extra large television screen.
“Turn it up.” Scott complains. “I can’t hear anything.”
“You don’t need to,” Brad gives him a friendly punch in the upper arm. “It’s not like you’re going to
win anything.”
“Shh,” I say to both of them as the announcer of the Emmy Awards welcomes everyone to what she
says will be a night of surprises, or early morning for us since for some reason it is being held outside the
USA, somewhere exotic, somewhere where the time zones don’t match ours.
We smile at each other.
Our show - it has become known as our show in the last few weeks since…well, ever since I took
over, really - has several nominations.
Scott is nominated for outstanding supporting actor and Brad for outstanding lead actor. None of us
are sure who determined Brad as lead and Scott as supporting actor, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is,
they both are nominated.
The show itself is nominated for outstanding daytime television drama. I, together with my writers
am nominated as outstanding drama series writing team. And best of all I’m personally nominated as
outstanding producer of daytime television drama.
The last few months have been amazing. Life has been kind to all of us.
 With my talented team of writers and supporting lead actors, the show has gone stronger. I have
even been approached by a couple of other network heads to write for them.
I have been headhunted.
A month ago Scott, Brad and I decided to move in together and since we each owned small
apartments it was time to upgrade.
House hunting was fun. Some of the agent’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates when they saw
me walk up with two blokes. The women seemed to take it better than the men.
The lawyer who had to draw up the paper work was priceless. It took him quite a long time to
work out we were a threesome.
Our house is in the hills alongside some of Hollywood’s other super stars. On our first night Scott
stood on the balcony and raised a toast to everyone.
“This is where we belong.” He announced to no one in particular.
“More coffee?” I ask and look at Brad and Scott.
“I know what I want more of,” Scott’s hand reaches under my flimsy nightdress.
My pussy instantly responds, like it always does when either one of them touch me.
“Not now,” it takes all my strength to resist. “We don’t want to miss the announcements.”
Scott pouts. “What about a quickie.”
I leave him without another word.
Once I’m in the kitchen I hear yelling. I poke my head back into the living room.
“Quick,” Brad shouts. “Supporting actor is about to be announced.”
I hear just the tail end of nominations and Scott’s name.
With three quick steps I’m next to him and hold his hand. Brad is holding his fists tightly shut.
Drum roll. The announcer smiles and pulls the name out of the envelope in snail’s pace.
“Hurry up,” I urge him, bouncing up and down on my seat.
“Scott from The Kings.”
We hug and cry with each other, almost missing the announcement of lead actor.
“Shush,” I hold my hand over Scott’s mouth. We listen to the nominations and again my heart is
beating so fast I feel as if I’d just run a marathon. With Scott having won an award it would not feel right
if Brad didn’t.
The camera zooms in on the announcers face. She holds the paper in front of her eyes as if she
needs glasses. I can see she’s reading silently. Come on, just say it, I mouth.
“Looks like our new show is going to be cleaning up tonight,” she says and I’m already squeezing
Brad’s hand.
“The winner of outstanding lead actor is Brad from The Kings.”
I can’t believe it. We hug, we kiss, and we hug again. I’m crying and laughing at the same time.
When they announce our writing team as winners of outstanding writing I feel as though I can’t take
much more.
“And now ladies and gentlemen, viewers,” a handsome face says from the television “we come to
outstanding daytime television producer.”
Brad and Scott crowd around me. Both of them hold me as tight as possible. If they squeeze any
more I won’t be able to breathe.
“It’s a tough field this year,” says the blonde assistant to the announcer smiling broadly into the
camera.
“Like every other year,” agrees the announcer. The names are read out. Goosebumps crawl up my
arms and back when I hear my own name. It feels surreal.
I close my eyes and put my hands over my ears. I don’t think I can listen.
“You’ve won!” shouts Brad.
“You’ve won!” shouts Scott and both of them kiss me.
I fall back on the couch. They pounce. Their hands are all over me as are their mouths.
Oh my gosh. This is amazing.
Almost at the same time both of them pull back.
I sit up.
“What?” Suddenly all feelings of happiness disappear. They look so serious. Do they have bad
news? Are they leaving me?
“Kayla,” Scott takes my hand.
“Kayla,” Brad takes my other hand.
Has someone died?
“We want you to know,” Scott starts.
“That you mean the world to us.” Finishes Brad.
They are leaving me. I can tell from their faces. I brace for what comes next.
“Kayla we love you and we want to spend the rest of our lives with you. Will you marry us?’
I blink. What? Did I hear correctly?
“Will you?” they repeat and now I start to cry.
No words pass my lips and so I simply nod.
We melt into each other’s arms and Scott kisses me. Brad’s mouth is traveling downward where my
wet pussy waits for him. And both my hands are busy with needy dicks.
I can’t believe it, but this is my life now.
I’ve been blessed.
 Double Dealing





By Daphne Dawn


Copyright 2018 by Crimson Vixens
All rights reserved



This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.
This work intended for adults only.



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 Kevin


We are at The Exchange in Minneapolis, and it is busier than usual. There are some nights where
everyone wants to let their hair down, and apparently, this is one of them.
Scot and I sit on the upright beige stools at the bar, sipping whiskey and checking out the talent.
Scantily clad women shimmy around, waiting for guys to ogle them, and we are more than happy to
oblige.
There’s nothing more beautiful than a sexy woman. Sure, okay – some men don’t know how to
appreciate the fine things in life, but that’s not a description you can apply to me. I love the fine things in
life, especially when their shape is a feminine one.
The Exchange is the kind of place I like to go to wind down. It’s an upscale place with classy décor
and people that get drunk enough to have fun, but not so drunk they get trashy. Music thumps over the
speakers, loud enough on the dance floor to keep the writhing bodies happy, but far enough away from the
bar so that Scott and I can talk comfortably.
“How’s your search for a new secretary going?” Scott asks.
I sip the last of my whiskey and wave to the bartender so he can get me a refill. I’m on my third
glass and finally starting to buzz.
The problem with drinking more often is how tolerant you become, but I have the time and money to
get myself properly lubricated tonight.
“I found someone,” I say.
“Yeah? Hot?”
I nod. “Fucking hot. She’s a full ten.”
“That doesn’t exist,” Scott says.
“You haven’t seen this one.”
There aren’t a lot of women as hot as Carly Brown. I’d spent the week interviewing one woman
after the other, looking for a personal assistant. They’d been mostly good looking in one way or another
and more than capable of doing the job, but I hadn’t felt that connection I believe in when I hire someone
to work with me on a full-time basis.
When Carly walked into my office, I’d known before going over her qualifications with her that she
was the one. She was banging hot, with curves that made my mouth water and plump, kissable lips.
Of course, her ability to assist me is really what I should be after, but if a woman walks into your
office looking like a wet dream, you seriously consider hiring her. It was a total bonus that Carly has all
the credentials I need.
More than just that, she was overqualified. I should feel bad about it, but I’ve never been happier
about the market pushing a smart young woman inside my office.
 “When is she starting?” Scott asks.
“Monday.” My whiskey refill arrives, and I sip it. The more I drink of the stuff, the better it tastes. I
never really like whiskey when I start out, but by the end of the night, I always love it.
“So, I’m going to see her around, then?” Scott asks.
“For sure,” I say. “You’ll see what I mean. Seriously, I would take her.”
Scott chuckles and sips his own whiskey. His dark hair flops into his face, and his green eyes are
hungry as he looks women up and down like he is trying to picture them naked.
We work together. Scott is involved in my HR department, and thanks to him, a lot of things go right
with Raven Publishers. My publishing company is doing well enough for investors to get on board and a
lot of it has to do with Scott.
Of course, the board has been acting rather mutinous as of late, but that has nothing to do with him.
Hell, without him they’d just mutiny and chop my head off. Figuratively speaking.
But Scott’s more than just my HR man. He is my best friend and my wingman since college. We had
the same interests from the start: sports, alcohol, and women. The latter, we talk about shamelessly. When
we come across a hot piece of ass, we are more than willing to share.
It sounds bad, but hey, what are best friends for?
“Does she look like the type that will let you fuck her?” Scott asks.
I nod. “I can’t tell for sure. You know how uptight some of them are, but I think so. She caught me
staring at her tits, and she arched her back instead of blushing.”
Scott nods. “You know I’m gunning for her too, right?” he asks.
I laugh. “Not if I get there first. But when has that ever stopped you?”
Scott shrugs. “It’s my genetic makeup, man. I can’t help it,” he says, flashing me a grin. “But I read
her files. What the hell is she doing as a secretary?”
“Who knows?” I reply, and now’s my turn to shrug. “Stanford, graduated magna cum laude…She
should be aiming for VP, not secretary. But, hey, it’s not like I’m complaining.”
“Yeah, VP,” Scott snorts. “Like the board would ever go for something like that. These old bastards
are just looking to set their nieces up for life.”
“You think I can’t work around these guys?”
“Not to brag, but I could whip them into submission easily,” he laughs at me, and I realize what’s
about to happen.
We’re about to make a bet.
“No fucking way. I’m not betting on something I’m going to win. It’s like taking candy from a baby.”
“Scared?”
“Yeah, scared,” I roll my eyes. “I’m terrified, Scott, can’t you see it?” I laugh, showing him my
hand and make it twitch as if I’m having a nervous breaking. “If you want to bet, let’s bet. I’ll make a VP
out of her.”
 Scott laughs. “We’ll see who gets that done first. Challenge accepted,” he says. He looks around at
the people walking around us. We both stare at the same pair of legs and rolling hips that passes us before
Scott turns his attention back to me.
Bets – it’s been like this ever since college. It didn’t matter what the subject was; if we could bet
on it, we would. Especially if the subject matter was an outrageous one.
We once bet that we could make a vegan eat a steak. By the time we were finished, our poor victim
went through a four-course meal of the finest meats New York has to offer.
Once, I made Scott stroll inside a courthouse and present himself as the lawyer while the court was
in session. That earned him an overnight stay on a comfortable prison cell, but he won that bet.
So far, I’d say we’re fifty-fifty. What can I say? You can’t win them all.
But turning a secretary into a Vice-President, and having the board agree to it? Now that’s
something. Sure, I’m the CEO – but it’s not like I’m the Louis XIV of the publishing world. A CEO has to
show his reports, after all, even if that means bowing down a board full of assholes.
Secretary to VP…I’ll have to put her to work fast.
I just can’t decide – should I make her focus on all the paperwork, or on my dick? Ah, whoever
said being a CEO is an easy job had no idea what they were talking about. Tough choices all around.
Besides, what makes it so interesting is the fact that Scott wants her as well. So, really, this isn’t
just a bet – this is a competition.
I shift in my seat, imagining Carly sandwiched between us with both our dicks buried inside her.
Scott and I have fucked in the same room before, but never the same girl. I wonder if that would be the
way to go – a friendly draw.
“Let’s try it then. We’ll see who makes a VP out of her.” I smile, looking down at my whisky, and
then add, “And we’ll see who makes her moan the loudest.” I want to give it a shot, though. God, thinking
of Carly naked, her mouth and her pussy occupied by a dick, her long dark hair falling over my chest or
my hands on her ass. I shift, trying to get comfortable around the erection in my pants.
“You’re on,” Scott says. He throws back the last of his whiskey and wipes his mouth with the back
of his hand. “One dollar?”
“One dollar it is,” I reply with a laugh, taking his hand in mine and shaking it. It’s not about the
money with us. It’s about who gets to beat the other. It’s about bragging rights.
Another woman comes past, and she wears a dress so short it is more like a belt. She is more drunk
than sexy, falling over her own heels. She has a drink in her hand, and it is more than half full.
Alcohol is great in moderation–just enough to drop your inhibitions can make for a fantastic night–
but there is a limit, and after that, it is easier just to walk away.
In this case, drunk-and-weaving heads toward us. Scott glances at me. Neither of us are in the
business of taking advantage of women. Do I love sex? You bet I do. But this drunk needs a greasy meal
and a warm bed to sleep it off.
 She stumbles past us. I see it happen in slow-motion–she loses control of her drink, and it splashes
onto my knee.
“Goddammit,” I say, jumping up. She starts toppling toward me. I grab her arm, trying to steady her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Someone says right behind me. When I turn around, I
come face to face with a brick wall of a man. “That’s my woman.”
I unhand the drunk girl.
“Ow,” she says, rubbing her arm.
“Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to hurt her, at all.”
“Are you okay, baby?” he asks.
Scott stands up and comes over to me so that we are side by side.
“It’s sore,” she says, except she is slurring so it sounds more like it’sh shaw.
“You think you’re funny, getting frisky with another man’s woman?” he asks.
“Hey, now,” Scott says. “He was just trying to help. She’s had a little more than she can handle.”
“Stay out of it, asshole,” the guy sneers at Scott.
I shake my head, pissed off now. First, his girlfriend is a problem, and now it’s escalating into
name-calling.
Just another night out, it seems. What am I? An asshole-magnet?
“That’s not necessary,” I say. “It’s nothing more than a misunderstanding.”
“Oh yeah?” the guy says, and he looks just as pissed as I feel. Maybe he had a lot to drink, too.
“Come on now, let’s just talk about this,” Scott says, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture.
The guy turns away a little, shaking his head. He spins around and his fist flies out, hooking me in
the jaw.
For a moment, I see stars, and I fall backward and crash into someone else. I’m aware of Scott
jumping the guy and the drunk girl screaming above the music. It doesn’t take me too long to recover. The
guy had only clipped my jaw and done no real damage.
“Sorry,” I say to whoever is behind me.
Scott is in a full-on fist fight with this guy. The girl is still screaming, and I become aware of the
bouncers circling us. We’ve attracted a crowd, and there are phones out. This is going to get ugly, whether
we carry on fighting or get banned from the club. I want to get in a hit before we are thrown out. I run
toward them and jump up, punching the guy in the nose over Scott’s shoulder.
None of us can do more damage. One moment, our attacker is angry, with blood blooming from his
nose, and the next, we are all being dragged out by security, my knuckles throbbing.
We are thrown into the road outside, and all that is missing from the way we’ve been discarded is
the bouncers dusting their hands before turning around and walking away.
I push myself up from the asphalt and get to my feet.
“Well, that wasn’t humiliating,” Scott says.
 I shake my head. “At least we still got it.”
Scott laughs, and we high-five like teenagers.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say. “I have to get home, anyway. I want to hit the gym in the morning, and
my body is not going to like the whiskey as it is.”
Scott nods. “I’ll see you in the gym bright and early then, bro.”
* * *
On Monday morning, I leave my apartment dressed in my suit and tie, ready to take on the week,
when my phone rings.
“Meyers,” I say, holding the phone against my ear.
“Kevin,” a deep voice says. I recognize Mr. Franklin Hull right away. He is one of my investors,
one of the most important members on the board, and I deal with him directly most of the time.
“Mr. Hull,” I say. “I trust you’re well?”
If there is anyone whose ass I have to kiss, it’s Hull’s.
“I’m not as well as I’d like to be, Kevin,” he says, and his voice is serious.
Oh shit, what happened now? “What can I do to fix it?” I ask.
“You can tell me why the hell I’m supposed to invest in a person who ends up in the tabloids for a
fist fight in a club. This is work, not a playground. We’re all adults trying to achieve something here.”
“Of course, Mr. Hull,” I say, thinking feverishly. “It’s all one big misunderstanding.”
“Well, then you can explain yourself in our meeting at nine.”
Shit. They are calling me in for a meeting. What a way to start the week. When he hangs up without
saying goodbye, I get in my car and open Twitter. It doesn’t take me long to find the link to the post where
a crude photo of me and Scott is posted alongside a photo with two security guys and the guy with the
bloody nose.
Fuck.
I’m in the tabloids for this shit? It had to be one of those assholes who stood around us with the
cellphones. What am I going to do, now?
I start the car and pull into the road. My stomach is knotted in a tight fist of nerves. “Call Scott
Collins,” I tell my hands-free system, and it dials Scott’s number right away.
“Yeah?” he answers, sounding like he is still asleep.
“We’re all over the net for that fight at the club on Friday.”
“What?” he asks, suddenly a lot more alert.
“Yeah, Hull just called me in to a meeting to shit all over me. Just thought I’d give you a heads up.”
“Fuck,” Scott says with feeling.
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” I respond. “I’m being cross-examined at nine. I’ll let you know how it
goes. Be on standby. Hopefully, it won’t be too hectic, but you never know if we need to think of
something like a press release.”
“Got it,” he says. “Good luck.”
I hang up without responding. This is a load of bullshit.
I got a bet to win, and this just makes it hard.
 Carly


The first day of the job is always the worst. I was so happy when I got the job, but now, I am sick to
my stomach. I handle stress well, but making an impression and having to prove myself are something
different entirely.
Sure, after all the years of studying at Stanford, after all the money I’ve spent on tuition…. you’d
think I’d do better than a secretary position. But what can I tell you? It’s not like job offers are raining
down on me. Besides, I’m ambitious – I’ll just get my foot on the door and then start climbing up.
Still, yeah, I’m nervous.
I also feel a little uncomfortable in my shoes. They are brand new–I’d gone shopping to celebrate
the moment I’d gotten the job–and I should have broken them in first.
When I walk through the lobby to the stairs, Kevin Meyers comes out of the men’s room and
reaches the foot of the stairs the same time I do.
“Morning, Carly,” he says.
I smile nervously at him. I hadn’t expected to see him out here already.
“Morning, Mr. Meyers,” I say.
“Kevin,” he says. “Please. We’re going to be working closely together. Let’s not stay too formal.”
I nod. “Kevin,” I say.
He pulls one corner of his mouth up in a lopsided grin. We turn and ascend the steps together. Kevin
seems distracted and serious. The grin had faded almost immediately, and he seems to be lost in a world
of his own. It is quite the opposite from what it had been when I’d done the final interview. He’d been
charming and suave, then, almost arrogant. He had stared at my body with his icy blue eyes without
shame, and I had to admit that I’d liked it.
Now, he barely looks at me. I had gotten dressed this morning with the intention of looking good.
I’m in appropriate office attire, of course, but I’m wearing a peplum dress suit that accentuates my curves,
and kitten heels that make my calves look better than when I wear flats.
We climb the two flights of stairs, and I follow him to a door with his name on the glass in golden
lettering. The office is modern executive, with black furniture and splashes of color that are artful enough
that I assume he’d gotten a decorator. Black blinds hang in front of all the glass walls, ready to give Kevin
privacy from prying eyes when he needs it.
I stand just inside the door, clutching my handbag like it is a lifeline, waiting for Kevin to tell me
what he wants me to do.
He is still distracted, opening his laptop and typing feverishly. It gives me time to study him.
He has dirty blond hair that is raked out of his face like he’d done it with just his fingers after
showering. His blue eyes are the color of a winter sky, and his suit hugs his muscled arms. He works out,
no doubt. The top button of his shirt is undone, the tie is loose around his neck, and a few golden chest
hairs and a triangle of tanned skin peek out of the shirt.
God, he is hot. He is the kind of man that, in any other situation, I would go home with. Pity he is
my boss.
Kevin looks up at me, and I feel like an idiot for staring.
“Okay, so you’re going to work out there,” he says, walking back to the door and pointing at a desk
just outside. With his blinds open, I will be able to see him through the glass office wall, and he will be
able to see me.
“I’m going to need you on standby a lot, though, so you’re not going to sit down much until I ask you
specifically or if I’m out.”
I nod. “I’m quick on my feet.”
He grins. “I see what you did there.”
It’s a silly comment, but it makes me feel warm.
He walks to the desk I’m supposed to use. “Here is a file with all the numbers you might need,
extensions, names, all of it. I got the last lady to prepare this for you. You’ll have to talk to Dana over
there to help you with the filing system.” He waves at a woman with an auburn bob, and she waves back.
I nod.
“You have an hour for lunch and two fifteen-minute breaks at eleven and three. Do you smoke?”
I shake my head.
“Good,” he says. “So, smoke breaks won’t be necessary. I expect you to be on top of your game.
We’re trying to rise on the corporate ladder so I need you to be as serious about this as I am. And you
have potential,” he adds, and I can’t help but wonder about that.
I nod. “Thank you, Mr. Meyers.” I shake my head. “Kevin.”
He smiles at me and it is a dazzling smile. It’s the kind of smile that makes me melt a little. I have to
stop being affected by him like this. He is my boss, for crying out loud.
“After your lunch hour, I need you to go to Hannah Weber in accounting–Dana will tell you how to
get there–so we can get you onto our payroll.”
He puts his hands on his hips and looks over my shoulder, thinking. I am aware of how tall he is
and how broad his shoulders are. His shirt is tight around his chest, gracing his pectorals, and I wonder if
he has six-pack abs below the shirt where it hangs of his body a little.
I shake off the thoughts. Focus, I have to focus.
Kevin clears his throat, and he looks distracted again.
“I’m going into a meeting in a couple of minutes,” he says with a solemn face. If he’d seen me
staring, he doesn’t show it. “I’ll need you to wait here, though. It’s a private matter. I might need you to
come into the board room, though. It depends on how it goes. So be on standby so I can call you.”
I nod. “I’ll be right here,” I say.
 “Good girl,” Kevin says and walks away.
I am thrilled by the ownership that comes with a compliment that should have felt more
condescending than it does.
With Kevin gone, I turn to my desk and sit down behind it. I glance at his office. This is where I am
going to sit every day for the foreseeable future. When I look toward his office, I know I will be able to
see him perfectly and that makes me excited. He’s my boss, I tell myself, but that doesn’t change the fact
that I think he is hot as hell.
I lean back in my chair. Kevin Meyers is a man that looks like he knows exactly what he wants and
he gets it, too. The way that he speaks to me makes me feel like he is in control. And why wouldn’t he be?
He is my boss. But it is more than that.
Kevin looks like he is the type of man that would dominate a woman in the bedroom. Just enough to
be hot as hell. There is something deliciously sexy about a man grabbing a woman’s hair or putting his
hand on her throat. I like the idea of a man making demands. I like the idea of Kevin making demands.
God, the things I would do for him if he but asks. I can just picture myself on his desk in lingerie,
my legs open for him so that he can explore my body. Or kneeling in front of him with his dick in my
mouth. If he puts his hand at the back of my head when I suck him off, it would be so much hotter still,
with him pushing me to my limit and me letting him because I am his for the taking.
Dana comes toward me and that rips me out of the dirty day dreams I am having about someone I
shouldn’t be fantasizing about. I feel my cheeks flame, knowing full well that Dana wouldn’t know that I
am dreaming about Kevin, and feeling silly, anyway.
“I’m Dana,” she says and smiles at me. Her shoulder length bob is more red than brown up close,
and she has a smattering of freckles across her nose that move when she smiles. “You’re the new girl.”
I nod, even though it isn’t a question.
“Let me show you the filing cabinet while you have some time to breathe. You won’t have that once
Mr. Meyers comes out of the meeting.” I notice she doesn’t call him Kevin the way he asked me to. I
wonder if it is a privilege to do so and what it means, if it is.
“He had the last girl running around like a headless chicken,” Dana says, turning toward the filing
cabinets and expecting me to follow her. “But if I must be honest with you, I don’t think he liked her very
much.”
“Why?” I ask.
Dana shrugs and flips her hair. “I don’t know. I guess you just don’t click with some people.”
I nod, wondering if that was all it was. I guess I will find out in due time. I look down the corridor
where Kevin had disappeared to. Dana prattles on, and I wonder if I will be stuck with her for a long
time, still.
Time passes slowly in an office I don’t know with nothing to work on. After learning how to do the
filing from Dana and finding Hannah in accounting much earlier than I need to, I have nothing to do until
Kevin finally comes back to his office. He looks tired when he arrives.
“Carly,” he calls, beckoning to me as he walks into his office. I jump up and follow him in.
“Close the door, please,” he says.
I turn around and do as he asks, aware that the blinds are open and only what we say will be
private. Not that it matters. What else would happen?
Kevin sits down on the edge of his desk. He gestures to the chair facing him, and I sit down,
perching on the edge, ankles together and hands folded in my lap. I’m not comfortable yet, and being
around Kevin in an enclosed space is disconcerting. I can smell his cologne, and it is manly and
attractive, designed to make women fawn over him.
It works.
“I need to talk to you about what’s going on,” he says, and he sounds so dejected I get rid of all my
naughty thoughts and focus on him. “It’s not a big deal, not really, but you ought to know. I have new
investors. They signed on with Raven Publishers about two weeks ago. Mr. Franklin Hull is a particularly
difficult man.”
Kevin takes a deep breath. I listen intently.
“We were caught in a tussle on Friday–my HR manager and I–and it was portrayed a lot worse than
was necessary in the tabloids. You can imagine what a nuisance they are.”
He tales another deep breath. He seems stressed. I don’t know what to say so I don’t say anything at
all.
“The problem with this is the fact that any little thing will cost me the investment. They were
already threatening to pull out after this unfortunate situation. It was nothing, but they’re serious about
image, and they don’t like it when anything goes wrong.”
He looks at me, and his eyes are bright. He looks at me for long enough that I think he might want
me to say something.
“I understand,” I say.
“I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that I need your help keeping an eye on things.”
“Me?” I ask. It seems like a very sudden, very big responsibility.
Kevin nods and smiles. It is a warm, encouraging smile.
“You’re my assistant. You’re an extension of my image now, essentially an extension of me.”
I blink at him. He shakes his head and chuckles. His voice is deep and velvety when he does.
“I just need some help keeping a handle on things.”
I smile and nod. I am wanted. I am needed. This is exactly what I am here for.
“Absolutely,” I say. “You can count on me.”
He gives me another of his brilliant smiles, and I melt into my shoes.
 Kevin


By Wednesday afternoon, I am more than impressed with Carly. I made the right choice in hiring
her, and it isn’t just because she is the hottest thing I’ve seen on two legs. She is efficient, quick on the
uptake, and she makes my job so much easier.
She understands what I want and when I want it, without me needing to tell her. We are on the right
level so far, and that is exactly what I need in a personal assistant.
More than that, I had her go through a lot of paperwork the board had me swamped with. She went
through fast – almost as fast as I would have done it. This bet looks like a sure deal. Sorry, Scott.
Of course, it helps a lot that she is so easy on the eyes. She is graceful and elegant when she walks,
carrying herself like she is proud of who she is. Her long dark hair frames her delicate face, and she has
these deep, liquid eyes that I can get lost in if I allow myself to stare into them for too long.
Every day, she wears something different, something equally flattering as she did the day before.
Whether it is a skirt or a pair of pants, she always looks well put together and neat as a pin.
Of course, I prefer it when she wears skirts. Her legs are to die for, and her skin tone is so light it is
like marble.
After she comes back from lunch, I call her in.
“Close the door, will you?” I ask.
She does and walks to my desk.
“Sit down,” I say when she doesn’t. She never sits down unless I ask. Such manners.
“How are you enjoying your work here?” I ask.
She smiles at me, and it lights up her face. It is a good start. God, she is beautiful.
“Very much,” she says. “I think I’m fitting in well. Very well. I’m getting along with everyone in the
office and I think I’m managing with the work.”
She is soft spoken, her voice feminine and a little husky. It is the kind of voice I would love to get
off to on the phone. I can listen to her talk all night long. I can just imagine what she would sound like
during sex. Fuck me.
I really want her. I want to get to know more of her, to spend more time with her, to see who she is
outside of the office.
“Do you want to go out for a drink with me tonight?” I ask.
The question surprises me as much as it surprises her. She frowns slightly, her perfectly manicured
brows knitting together.
“I mean…” I start, but there is no way I can make that sound different than it does.
“I’d like that,” she says, and I blink at her. Did she just accept?
“I want to go to Marvel Bar. Do you know where it is?”
 She nods.
“Meet me there. Seven”
She smiles at me and nods. My phone rings and I pick it up, not bothering to let her deal with the
call. I watch her as I speak on the phone, watching her get up and leave. Her ass is perfect–round, lifted
cheeks and beautiful thighs, hugged by the pants she wears today.
She leaves the door open, and I see her through the window, walking to her desk.
She said yes.
I arrive at Marvel early and get a table in the back. I want her all to myself. I want to talk to her, to
give her all my attention. I’d gotten dressed in Levi jeans and a collared shirt with Italian loafers. My hair
is geled up a little so that I don’t look as stiff as I had in the office. I order a whiskey while I wait for her.
The bar is a nice place, decorated with a bit of a retro feel in shades of brown and a bit of sea
green here and there. It is full enough for a week night. Music plays in the background and the lower
lighting makes it feel warm and intimate.
She arrives five minutes late, and I see her the moment she walks into the door. I couldn’t miss her.
Apparently, neither could any of the other men. They stare at her as she stops just inside the door, her eyes
scanning the crowd, looking for me.
When she spots me, she smiles. Her face lights up, and I watch her weave her way through the
tables toward me. She wears a sheath dress that accentuates her curves, even though it doesn’t cling to her
body. Her heels are higher, and her hair is pulled back from her face so that her dark eyes look even
bigger. She comes toward me all rolling hips and luscious lips.
“I almost didn’t recognize you,” she says when she sits down. “You look so different out of your
suit.”
“Well, you look fantastic,” I say. She blushes–blushes–and her smile is even more beautiful than I’d
seen before.
I order her a cocktail–women like cocktails–and we start talking. She tells me about her sister and
her parents and her studies. I only partially hear what she says. Her mouth mesmerizes me when she
speaks and I want to kiss her. The more I drink, the more I want to pull into her, push my tongue into her
mouth, pull her body against mine. I am playing with fire but I don’t care. That is because of the alcohol,
too.
I am buzzing, and she looks like she is getting drunk, too. She laughs more and speaks more freely,
her shyness disappearing. I like the woman that sits before me.
When the night comes to an end, I am more than tipsy. I feel like I’m walking on air and I am
painfully aware of my cock and how it is throbbing in my pants. When I stand up and hold out my hand,
Carly takes it. Her hand is soft. I help her up and she ends up almost against me, our bodies so close that a
sigh would push us together. Her breath hitches in her throat and in her eyes, I see the potential, the
possibilities of the night
 Oh, yes.
I let her walk through the crowd first, instead of leading her through, holding her hand. I have to
keep that damn business image in mind that Hull is so anal about.
“Did you drive?” I ask.
Carly stands next to me, hugging herself against the chill in the air. I put my arm around her shoulder
and pull her to me a little. She shakes her head.
“Taxi,” she says.
“Good.”
A moment later, my driver pulls up with my car. It is a black Mercedes–not quite a limo but longer
than the average car–and I like it that no one can see through the tinted windows.
I open the door for her, and she slides into the leather seats first.
“This is classy,” Carly says when the car purrs to life beneath us. I move closer to her. She glances
up at me but she doesn’t move away.
“Thank you for tonight,” I say.
She turns her face to me and she is so close to mine that I can almost taste her lips. Her eyes are on
mine for a moment before her gaze slides to my lips. She wants me to kiss her.
Who am I to turn away a woman who needs me like that? I close the distance, pressing my lips
against hers.
Maybe it is the alcohol, but the kiss is electric. Her lips are soft and she tastes like alcohol and
desire. I ache for her, which is probably the alcohol talking, too. I’m not going to deny myself if she is
willing.
Somewhere at the back of my mind, a little voice screams at me, reminding me of Hull and his
demands, but I push it away and reach up to her face, putting my palm on her cheek.
I push my tongue into her mouth, and almost immediately, the kiss becomes urgent. She kisses me
like she’ll never kiss again, her tongue swirling around mine, her hand on my chest tugging at my shirt.
I let my hand trail down her neck and touch her soft skin before I move my hand onto her chest. The
material of her dress is thin and I can feel the edge of her bra before my hand slides onto her breast. I cup
her breast and knead and massage her. She breathes hard into my mouth.
She slides her hand into my lap and rubs my cock through my jeans without going on a detour
touching my body in the process. A woman that knows what she wants: I like it.
I pull her closer against me. Her skin is hot through her dress. I tug at her collar once or twice
before I realize the material won’t budge, and I won’t be able to get to her nipples from here. I have to
just wait until later.
Instead, I move my hand down her body, tracing her contours until my palm is on the bare skin of
her thigh where the hem of her dress has ridden up. I push my hand underneath her dress. She gasps and
leans into me, turning her body so that I can squeeze her ass.
 I do, and it is a fantastic ass. It feels just as good as it looks. Still, that isn’t what I am after.
I move my hand around her leg, leaning against her so that her body is upright again. When my
fingers touch the material of her panties, she gapes, breaking the kiss. She opens her legs for me but she
glances at the driver at the same time.
He isn’t very close to us with the extra length to the car.
“Don’t worry about him,” I whispered. The guy is the perfect driver. He chooses not to know what
I do in the backseat of the car, and he keeps whatever he sees to himself. I pay him a lot of money for that,
and he is as discreet and non-judgmental as they come.
The reassurance seems to be enough for Carly. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but she opens her legs wider
for me. I rub her pussy through the material. She is wet, the material soaked, and she gasps. I only tease
her like that for a short while before it drives me crazy, too.
I pull her panties to the side, exposing a bare pussy. There is something beautiful about a woman
baring it all. I don’t mind, either way, but to me, it speaks of confidence and self-esteem that I don’t see in
many women. It takes courage to be so exposed.
When I push my fingers into her slit, she moans. I run my finger along the length of her slit, coating
it with her sex until my fingers are slick. I draw small circles around her clit, making her gasp and squirm
against the leather car seat. God, I want to do so much more to her. I want to slam my dick into her and
fuck her hard, but that isn’t going to happen. Not in the car.
My fingers are going to have to cut it for now.
After working her clit over a little, I push my fingers into her entrance, and she gasps again. Her
breathing becomes louder, and she makes small whimpering sounds. It appears that she is quite vocal,
which I enjoy. It’s the opposite of what I expected from the soft-spoken assistant I’d hired.
I only finger fuck her a short while before returning to her clit. I rub it with two fingers, sliding my
fingers over her clit faster and faster, taking my cues from her breathing. I can tell when she is getting
close. It isn’t just the way her body is jerking now and then or how she writhes against my hand, but her
breathing becomes shallow and erratic and she closes her eyes, shutting out the world.
When she orgasms, her legs close around my hands and she curls her body forward. I let her lie
against me, and I tip her head up with my hand underneath her chin, kissing her. She gasps against my lips
and stops breathing for a moment. A small, almost strangled sound escapes her lips before she breathes
hard.
She is so hot when she orgasms. God, it makes me want to fuck her right then and there.
The car stops in front of her apartment building. She looks at me, her eyes large and liquid.
“Do you want to come up?” she asks.
I nod, get out of the car when she did, and I dismiss the driver.
 Carly


I shouldn’t have asked him up to my apartment. I know that. Hell, I shouldn’t even have let him kiss
me.
But he is so fucking hot, wearing his Levi’s that are faded in all the right places and that collared
shirt that makes his arms and his chest look so big. I just couldn’t help it. When he kissed me, I had to kiss
him back.
I am drunk and completely aware of it. And I don’t care. Maybe that is because I’m drunk, but I
don’t think about that too much. My head is light and airy, and I feel beautiful. I know that he looks at my
body as I climb every step to my apartment on the second floor. I know that his eyes are glued to my ass
when we walk to my front door, and I know that his fingers smell like me because of how he’d touched me
in the car.
I don’t just want to send him home.
When I unlock my door and invite him in, he barely stays away from me to close and lock the door
behind us. He is on top of me in no time, driving me backward until my back is against the wall next to the
door. I bump the small table next to the door–where I put my keys and my handbag–with my hip, and the
wooden elephant ornament falls off. It makes a dull thud on the carpet, and I don’t care if it is broken or
not.
“Sorry,” Kevin mumbles against my lips.
I don’t respond. Instead, I put my arms around his neck and let him kiss me harder. His tongue is in
my mouth, and he tastes like whiskey. I could still feel his fingers between my legs, the friction caused by
his rough skin left behind like a ghost of what he’d done to me in the car.
I want more. I am so wet, it’s crazy. I can feel my panties soaked through.
He finds the hem of my dress and lifts it up, peeling it off my body. When he steps back to give
himself space to maneuver, I lift my arms like a child to let him pull the dress over my head. I stand in
front of him in black lace underwear, one of the matching sets that always makes me feel like a million
bucks.
“God, you’re so fucking hot, Carly,” he says.
He kisses me again before I can answer, his hands going for my breasts, He massages them and
squeezes them through the material. He peels the lace cups to the side and squeezes my nipples, tugging at
them until I moan into his mouth. He pins me against the wall with his hips, grinding his hard cock against
my pubic bone.
I am starting to get frustrated. I want more. I want all of it. I reach for his shirt and unbutton it,
peeling it off his shoulders. He lets go of me, and I pull the shirt down. He helps me and throws the shirt
on the floor.
 My hands go to his pectorals, and I push my fingers into the hair on his chest. It is just enough to be
manly and rugged, not so much that it’s a turn off.
He pulls me away from the wall
“Where’s your room?” he asks.
I turn around and lead him to my room. The apartment isn’t very big, and we are in the main
bedroom in no time. I turn around once we are in the middle of the room and tug at his belt, undoing the
buckle and then unzipping his pants. He unclasps my bra and it is a tug of war to see who is going to get
the other out of their clothes first.
When I get his pants down, his cock strains against his boxers, hard and thick. My bra hangs from
one arm, and I let it slide off and drop onto the floor. My panties are already around my ankles, and I step
out of them.
Kevin does the last part. He pulls down his boxers and gets rid of them. For a moment, I just take in
the sight of his cock–the thick meat, the bulbous head, slick with lust. Pubic hair the same color as his
chest hair is scattered around the base of his cock.
I run my hands down his chest, over his abdomen, following the triangle from his navel to his pubic
region. He jerks a little when my fingers run over his lower abdomen.
I run my fingers through the thick patch of hair. Then, I cup his balls, running my fingers along the
base of his cock, teasing him. He groans, and I can see the desire and frustration in his eyes.
I smile before I drop to my knees. I look up at him, and his icy eyes are glued to mine when I open
my mouth and slide him between my lips. I bob my head and suck him deeper into my mouth, tasting his
precum. It is salty and warm and slick.
With my tongue, I lick the bottom of his shaft. I take him farther into my mouth, sucking him in and
licking him on the way out. I massage his balls as I do it and extend my mouth by holding him at the base
of his cock and moving my hand up and down with my mouth.
He groans and puts his hands on my head, weaving his fingers in my hair. I shiver.
Before long, he holds my head in place and pushes in once, deeper than I’d gone before, before he
pulls out. I haven’t done anything like that before, but the idea of him taking control makes me shudder.
“On the bed,” he orders.
I do as he asks. I get up and crawl onto the bed backward. He crawls onto the bed with me and
pushes my legs open with his hands. I don’t fight him on it. I lean back, propped onto my elbows, my body
on display for him. He studies my pussy and his face is hungry.
When he dips his head, I lay back completely. His lips touch my pussy, and I jerk at the sensation.
He sticks out his tongue and licks the length of my slit, making me shiver and yelp when his tongue flicks
over my sensitive clit. After the orgasm in the car, I am more aware of his movements down there, of
where his tongue goes and what he does with it.
He licks my clit, flicking his tongue back and forth. He does that for a while before he pushes one
finger into me. It feels amazing, even though it is just his finger, not his cock. Kevin closes his mouth over
my clit, sucking on me. I cry out. He slowly slides his finger in and out of my pussy, sucking on my clit,
bringing me closer and closer to another orgasm.
The sensation is amazing. He brings me to the edge and keeps me there. The world spins slowly
around me, and I know I’ve had a lot to drink tonight, but the lust and adrenaline have countered it by now.
Aside from being less shy about fucking someone who was almost completely a stranger, there is nothing
left of the effect of the alcohol.
After a while, Kevin stops. I lift my head and look at him. He wipes his mouth with his fingers
before he sits up.
“Turn around,” he says, his hand already on my hip. He helps me up so that I’m down on all fours,
my ass pointing to him. I wiggle my ass a bit and look over my shoulder at him.
I don’t usually do this. But I want Kevin to fuck me. I want more than just a finger inside me.
He doesn’t need more encouragement than that. He touches my entrance with his fingers, guiding
himself toward me before he presses the tip of his cock against my pussy. I hold my breath in anticipation.
He slides into me, and I gasp. He is longer and thicker than he looks, splitting my body apart. I brace
myself on the bed to keep my balance.
When he is inside me to the hilt, he pauses a moment. I move a little, wiggling my ass around him.
That is all the time he allows me to adjust to him before he pulls out again. This time, when he pushes
back in, it is a lot harder and a lot faster. I cry out as he pulls out another time and pushes in again. He
builds up a rhythm and fucks me harder, his strokes quickening and his hips banging against mine.
The harder he fucks me, the louder I moan. The sound of sex fills the room–flesh slamming into
flesh, his heavy breathing, and my orgasmic cries.
He hammers into me, his balls slapping against my clit, and it is so hot, tugging at my core. I tip my
head up and arch my back so he drives deeper and deeper into me. He runs his hands up my back, around
my ribs, and onto my breasts. He squeezes them, tugs at the nipples, leaning me so that he holds onto my
breasts to keep me in position as he fucks me.
I get the impression he is close to coming–his breathing becomes ragged and he takes on a primal
rhythm. Before he releases, though, he pulls out of me. I cry out in protest and feel his absence acutely, my
body gaping where he’d been a moment earlier. He is breathing hard.
He pushes gently against my hip, and I got the idea that he wants me to turn around. I would do that
for him. I would do anything for him right now, if it means I can have more of his dick.
When I lay on my back, my thighs fall open for him, and he pushes into me again. His body is
positioned over mine, elbows on either side of my head, and he pins me down. He pulls out and pushes
back in, taking only a second before he picks up the pace and starts hammering into me again.
From this angle, it feels different, and my own orgasm subsides, too. We are starting almost from
scratch. I don’t mind. We can do this for as long as he wants. All. Night. Long.
 Kevin’s body is pressed against mine from the hips up, and my breasts mash against his chest. His
face is close enough that I can kiss him when I lift my head. I do but he doesn’t kiss me for long–I doubt he
can multitask as he is fucking me already.
He slows his pace right down, stroking slowly in and out of me, and I moan, long and low. The
feeling is amazing, soft and sensual. I close my eyes and give myself over, getting lost in the feeling. The
rocking feels more intense with my eyes closed because of the alcohol in my system.
It is amazing.
 Kevin


She is fantastic in bed. She’s loud, gasping and moaning and crying out. I hate it when women keep
quiet. I never know if they’re enjoying it, or if I am doing it right. I know exactly what Carly is feeling,
and she is loving it.
It makes it easier for me to judge how close she is to orgasming with her sounds, too. She moans
and gasps and makes all the right sounds, which means that I can stop her from coming just before she
does and draw it our longer and longer.
With her on her back, her breasts are against my chest. They are perfect–a little bigger than my
hands when I hold them. I love it when there is more than I can handle.
Her nipples aren’t too large, and they are light, erect against my pectorals as her desire courses
through her body.
I push up onto my hands so that my arms are straight on either side of her head. My cock pushes
deeper into her, and she gasps, her eyes on mine. I gyrate my hips, moving my cock in a circular motion
inside her. She gasps, and I know I am hitting the right spots, judging by her breathing and the way her
face goes slack.
For a while, I tease her like that, moving my cock around and around without really sliding in and
out of her. Not only does it keep her in one spot and drive her crazy, but it gives me time to pull myself
together, too. I don’t want to come just yet, and a few moments ago, I’d been very close.
When I am ready, I start pumping into her again. I am balanced on my hands, with my legs almost
flat on the bed all the way to my cock. I rock my hips back and forth. I slide into her, going deeper and
deeper as I pick up my pace and fuck her harder and harder.
She moans loudly, the rhythm of our sex and the rhythm of her moans linking up. Her breasts swing
back and forth, and I watch for a while before I turn my attention back to her face. She is getting closer. I
can tell. Her face changes–I’d seen what she looks like when she orgasms when we were in the car–and
she is well on her way. I fuck her harder and harder until she gasps and cries out. Her mouth rounds into
an ‘O’ and her eyes are squeezed shut. She arches off her bed, her legs wrapping around my ass and my
thighs. She grabs onto my shoulder, and her nails bite into my skin as she orgasms.
When she lets me go, I can still feel her fingers on my skin. A part of me hopes that she left behind
the little half-moons of her fingernails.
She breathes hard, opening her eyes and looking at me through hooded eyes. I lean down and kiss
her. She kisses me back, long and sensual.
She doesn’t take very long to recover.
“Lie on your back,” she says.
I’m not about to disagree with her. I want more sex, and she is apparently a wild cat in bed. She
crawls onto me, straddling my hips and facing my feet. Her ass is toward me, and she lifts herself up so
that I can see everything. Her pussy lips are swollen and a little shiny, her ass is beautiful and round, and
her thighs are smooth.
I reach for her ass and run my hands over her cheeks. She wraps her fingers around my cock with
her hand between her legs and sits down on me, still facing away.
When she straightens up, her weight and my body beneath her push her ass cheeks up and out even
more so that she has a bubble butt in the purest sense of the phrase.
She starts rocking back and forth, riding me.
Her ass is amazing from this angle, jiggling as she rides me, round and the perfect size to balance
out her large breasts. With her tiny waist, she has the perfect hourglass figure.
I watch her ride me, rocking her hips back and forth faster and faster. Her long brown hair hangs
down her back, and it moves in waves as she rocks back and forth. I reach up and push my hands into the
stuff. Her hair is thick and soft. Silky.
I wrap it around my hands once–it is long enough for that–and I pull down slightly so that her back
is arched and her head is tipped back. I am careful not to hurt her.
She cries out–a cry of pleasure, not pain–and she moans loudly with every stroke. I see her arm
move, and I get the impression she is playing with herself, rubbing her clit while she rides me. Her moans
become breathy, and I know she is getting closer again. She came almost on demand, it was that often, and
it is so damn satisfying to see her lose herself again and again while I am inside of her, in one way or the
other.
I watch her ass as she rides me, holding onto her hair and letting her do her thing.
After a while, I let go of her hair and run my hands over her hips, her ass, her thighs, and her back. I
keep doing it while her gasps become erratic. She leans forward a little and her strokes become shorter
on top of me.
When she orgasms, her walls clamp down on my dick, and I feel her spasm, her muscles
contracting. Her body is curled forward, her knees pressing against my thighs as her body tries to close
around me.
She breathes hard and stops moving. After a moment, she lifts herself so that I slide out of her. She
gasps when I do, and I can feel how tight she is. Three orgasms will do that to her, I imagine.
When she is next to me on the bed, her dark eyes trace my body, and I let her stare at me. My cock
is thick and hard, coated with our sex, and it lies along my lower abdomen. I look at her as she stares at
me.
She moves forward and takes my cock in her hands. A moment later, she wraps her mouth around
my dick again, and her lips close over the head. I can just imagine what we taste like together, what it’s
like to go down on me after I’ve been inside of her.
The idea is incredibly sexy. I don’t know what it is that is so attractive about a woman that is
willing to put her mouth over something that has been inside of her, but I love it. I love how she is willing
to do anything. She is daring in bed, carefree and wild, and she takes initiative.
A woman like this is hard to find.
When she pushes her head down over my cock, I stop thinking altogether. Every thought that may
have been in my mind disappears, and there is nothing except the feeling of her hot mouth around my cock.
She moves her head up and down and sucks me the way she’d sucked me before. She bobs her head
faster and faster, meeting her lips with her hand, lengthening her range. I put my hand on her head, and she
moans around my cock. The humming sound that she makes sends vibrations through my dick that feel like
nothing I’ve felt before, and I groan.
Carly removes her hand and pushes her head farther down so that the tip of my cock presses against
her soft palate. She pulls back a little, takes a deep breath like she is diving into water, and pushes her
head down. I feel her gag just a little, a strangled sound escaping her mouth, but she gets it under control.
The moment I am farther down her throat, she is fine.
Carly is deep throating me. Oh, my God.
I groan and close my eyes. She bobs her head up and down, pushing me deep down her throat a few
times before she pulls back for air. She does this a few times. She isn’t going very fast, but she doesn’t
have to.
I feel the orgasm building. My balls contract, and I am going to release soon if she keeps going. She
keeps bobbing her head. A moment later, I can’t hold back anymore. Carly feels me coming and pushes
her head down, shoving me into her throat as far as she can. I come down her throat, pumping, emptying
myself out into her mouth.
She holds her breath, keeping me there while I come inside her. She squeezes my balls, milking me,
dragging out every drop.
When she pulls back her head, she gasps for air. She swirls her tongue around my cock a few times,
and I jerk at the feeling. I am so sensitive now.
Carly lets up, just before I am about to ask her to stop. She smiles at me, and she looks satisfied
with herself. And rightly so. She has done an amazing job.
“I have never had a blowjob like that before,” I say to her.
She smiles shyly, and the Carly I’ve gotten to know a little at the office peeks through again.
“Tonight, went a little differently than I expected,” she says.
I chuckle. She pulls her knees up and hugs them to her body. It looks like she is closing in on
herself. I sit up. My cock pulses with the aftereffects of the orgasm, and my body is spent.
“I agree,” I say. When I’d asked her out for drinks, the idea hadn’t been to sleep with her. Sure, I’d
wanted to fuck her since the first time I saw her, and I was really turned on the whole day by her, but I
never intended to fuck her.
It is so bad for my company image and the way Hull worries about it. But I am still buzzing with the
alcohol and the orgasm I’ve just had, and I’m not going to worry about that now.
Besides, if she can climb the executive ladder as well as she can fuck…well, what can I say?
Easiest bet of my life.
I want to ride the wave of bliss and bask in the afterglow of the best sex I’ve had to date. And that
is saying something. I’ve had a good amount of sex.
My mind jumps to Scott. I have a lot to tell him. What will he think about her? I know he’s chasing
her as well, and that makes me feel queasy. And that doesn’t happen often. To be honest, it has never
happened before.
Maybe Carly is the one.
She is certainly something else in bed.
“I have to get going,” I say to her after we’ve sat together in silence for a while.
Carly nods, and I can’t tell what she is thinking. I get off the bed and look for my clothes, pulling
them on as I find them. When I am dressed, my phone in hand to call the driver, I glance at Carly. She gets
up, too, and pulls a robe over her shoulders, wrapping herself up so that she is decent again.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say.
“Tomorrow,” she repeats. She walks me out and closes the door behind me when I leave. I follow
the corridor to the stairs and back down to the street where I wait on the curb for my car to fetch me.
 Carly


I don’t know what to expect at work the next morning. Kevin and I had fucked, and it hadn’t been
the plan at all. It hadn’t been what was supposed to happen. Hell, it was the opposite of what he’d asked
me to do when he explained to me how difficult the investors are.
I shouldn’t have slept with him. I should have said no to that date altogether. Because that is what it
ended up being. A date. When he’d asked me out for drinks, I agreed right away because working with
him has been good–he treats me like I have a brain and know how to use it, and he is so fucking hot, it’s to
die for.
And now? Now, I am terrified I’m going to get fired.
I’d never asked Dana why the previous personal assistant had been fired. What if the same thing
happened, and they’d become so sour with each other that everyone assumed they just didn’t along? What
if he’d booted her out the door the moment they’d fucked?
God, I can’t think like this. I am driving myself crazy, and I haven’t even gotten into the office yet.
I put on a black, wide-legged pair of pants that was high-waisted and wore a tuck-in cream blouse
with it. I tie my hair back in a messy bun and put on makeup. Dressing up always makes me feel
invincible, and I still want him to see me as someone he will want to be with. Thinking like that is wrong,
but that is how I feel, and I can’t help it.
Even now, when I’m sober, I get butterflies when I think about it. I get wet when I picture him naked
and fucking me.
I can’t put off leaving for so long that I end up late for work. So, when I am ready, I make my way
to the office. When I walk through the door, my stomach is a tight knot, but I climb the stairs to Kevin’s
floor.
It is my fourth day on the job, and I’ve already slept with my boss. What does that say?
That he is hot, and I want him, for sure. What else?
I’m not sure.
When I arrive, Kevin is in his office on the phone. I put my bag on my desk and go through the
envelopes and files that have been delivered with the first mail run. I glance at Kevin a few times. He sits
behind his desk, the phone pressed against his ear, and he doesn’t look up at me once.
I try not to read anything into it, but I’m nervous that he is angry with me.
I pull out my phone and check my messages. There are two from Emma. My sister had tried to get a
hold of me last night–I hadn’t even checked.
I dial her number and press the phone against my ear.
“Where were you last night?” she asks.
“I was working,” I lie. It comes so easily–the lie–it almost scares me.
 “I tried calling you at nine. I was at your apartment. You were working that late?”
I shrug, even though she can’t see me. “It’s a new job. I expect the first month to be chaotic. You
know how it goes.”
Emma doesn’t know how it goes with a new job. She’s been in the same job since she graduated
from college. My little sister is the stable type, the type that doesn’t take risks, doesn’t want adventure,
and does what she says she’ll do, even if she hates it. At twenty-seven, she is as stable as a forty-year old.
I am twenty-nine, and I’ve been through a few jobs already, and I’m still not sure where I belong in life.
Sure, I graduated late, and then I failed at getting the job of my dreams. And sure, I’m just a secretary…
but I’m ambitious. That’s something my sister can’t understand, no matter how hard I try.
“I want to see you,” Emma says.
“How about lunch today?” I ask. “I’m off for an hour at two.”
We agree on a café between our two jobs, and I hang up. When I glance at Kevin again, he isn’t on
the phone anymore. He stares at me through the glass, and it’s disconcerting.
A moment later, he beckons me to come to the office. I swallow hard and get up. I know he is
watching me all the way to his door and then to his desk once I shut us in, and I have no idea what he is
thinking. He wears a poker face that tells me nothing at all.
“You sit down, Carly,” he says when I remain standing.
I do as he asks and take a deep breath, trying to blow it out without a shudder.
“I want to talk to you about last night,” he says.
I nod. Here it comes, I think. This is where he is going to fire me.
“That can never happen again,” he says.
I nod again, slower.
He sighs. “The investors are really a pain in my ass. If something like this comes out…”
I start talking, but my voice croaks and I have to clear my throat before I can say more.
“I’m sorry,” I finally manage. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing. I don’t know what came over
me.”
Kevin shakes his head. “You sound like you’re blaming yourself. Don’t. It took both of us, and if I
have to be honest about it, I loved it.”
I blink at him. “You did?”
He grins at me, the first sign of emotion, and it is positive.
“I did,” he says again. “You’re something else, Carly.”
I can’t help but smile. My cheeks heat up, and I am blushing again. Dammit.
Kevin chuckles. It makes me feel like an idiot for still responding like a teenager when a man
compliments me. Especially considering how he’d seen me last night–drunk and willing to lose absolute
control.
“You were worried,” he says. A statement, not a question.
 “I was scared you might fire me for it.”
Kevin shakes his head, swiveling from side to side in his chair. “I can’t fire you for something I’m
equally guilty of, and I don’t want to fire you at all. To tell you the truth, I want to do it all again.”
He looks at me with sincere blue eyes, not blinking or flinching once. I fail at hiding the surprise on
my face.
“How do you feel about it?” he asks.
I look down at my hands.
“I want to do it again, too,” I say. I have to tell him the truth. It is pointless lying to him about it
after we’ve already done it and he has made it so clear that we can’t do it again.
“Well, now,” Kevin says with a grin, his tone teasing. “We seem to have a problem then, you and I.
So much good sex to be had, and so many reasons not to have it.”
I look over my shoulder when he speaks about the sex so openly. If someone hears it, I have no idea
what kind of trouble I’ll get into.
“Don’t worry,” he says, knowing what I am thinking. “No one can hear us talking through the glass.
It’s sound proof. I made sure of it.”
I wonder why he would do that, but I let it slide.
“Can I ask you something personal?” Kevin asks.
The moment he does, I am on my guard and curious, all at the same time.
“Yeah?”
He looks at his desk, thinking about his words before he speaks them. “What do you think about
Scott?”
The question catches me completely off guard. I open my mouth, not knowing what I’m going to say,
and I end up not saying anything.
“You can be honest about it. I’m just asking. There’s no wrong answer.”
I think about it, and I have no idea about what to say. I’ve noticed that Scott’s eyes linger on my
body, and the way his lips curl into a smile whenever I face him…he’s just like Kevin. How does that
make me feel? Hell if I know.
But doesn’t even matter? It’s not like I’ve been introduced to the man.
“I don’t know,” I say. Kevin’s face is surprised. “I guess it depends.”
“On?” Kevin asks, and there’s a flame in his eyes. Is he hinting at what I’m thinking? I mean, what
the hell are we even talking about?
Because if he’s asking me if I feel attracted to Scott…well, that’s an easy answer. Besides, I know
the two of them are friends. Best friends, or so Dana tells me. Does that mean Kevin is proposing a…?
Oh, God, I can’t even say it.
I smile. The idea turns me on. And my boss proposing it? God.
“Depends on how much you think you can handle,” I tell him, the words leaving my lips before I
can restrain myself.
His eyes widen a little before he laughs.
“Sassy,” he says. “I like it.”
A knock on the door interrupts our light banter and flirting. Kevin’s smile grows a little, and he
waves someone in. I turn and watch a man open the door and close it behind him.
“Carly, this is Scott Collins,” Kevin says. “He works in HR.”
Scott smiles at me. He has dark brown hair that flops into his face, giving him a boyish charm, and
an easy smile. His eyes are greener than I’ve ever seen on anyone, and his arms and chest are almost more
muscular than Kevin’s.
“He left out the best part,” Scott says. “We’re also really good friends. Kevin aspires to be like
me.”
Kevin laughs, and that just confirms what Dana told me. Jesus, was Kevin serious when he started
to talk about Scott? Does it want to pass me around, share me, or what…? It can’t be. If I get to have sex
with two men that are as good looking as these two, I will have died and gone to heaven.
“I have to talk to Kevin about something,” Scott says. “If you don’t mind.”
I shake my head and glance at Kevin. He looks at me with eyes that are full of something I don’t
understand. I turn and leave the office.
I meet Emma for lunch at Birchwood Café. She is already there, her dark hair piled onto her hair in
a bun. She wears a dress suit that looks a little big on her.
“Have you lost weight?” I ask when she gets up to hug me.
“God, I wish,” she says. “I think I gained.”
We have the same hair and eyes, but that is as far as the resemblance goes. Emma is a little bigger
built than I am, with a rounder face and a thicker way of walking. She has always resented my weight and
my looks, and there is nothing I can do about it.
“How’s Ron?” I ask.
Emma shrugs. “He’s okay. He’s at a conference in Chicago.”
I nod. Ron and Emma have been dating for two years. She will probably marry him, knowing her.
“That’s good,” I say.
“Are you ever going to settle down?” Emma asks.
I sigh. “Can we get through lunch without you sounding like mom?”
Emma chuckles. “Yeah, okay,” she says. Emma has always been my best friend. We’ve had our
hiccups. We are very different from each other, but I tell her everything.
“Actually, I met someone,” I say.
Emma’s eyes sparkle. “Who is he?”
I shrug with one shoulder. “It’s not serious or anything. We slept together, but that doesn’t mean
anything.”
 “Who?” Emma asks again. “Is that where you were last night?”
I nod, smiling.
“Well, it’s my boss,” I say. Emma’s face falls so I push on. “And before you say something about it,
I know that it was wrong, and I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
I know it isn’t true as I say the words. I will probably do something stupid. Very stupid, if Kevin is
involved.
“You can’t do that, Carly,” Emma says.
A waiter appears.
“Can you give us a minute?” I ask.
The guy disappears.
“What if you lose your job?” Emma asked. “You just started there. If you get fired over something
like this, you won’t be getting another one so easily, and I can’t take care of you. You know Mom will turn
you down.”
I shake my head, pressing my finger against my temples. “Emma, stop. I’m not losing my job, okay?
I spoke to him, and we’re fine. I’m fine.”
Emma shakes her head back and forth.
“I can’t believe this. You’re just fucking up your life. A girl like you should be an executive or
something. Not a secretary that’s fucking her boss.”
I frown at her, suddenly angry. “I’m not fucking up my life. I have a job, I’m paying for myself. And
I won’t be a secretary forever. What and who I do besides that has got nothing to do with it.”
“You won’t be a secretary forever?” She asks me, one eyebrow cocked.
“No, I won’t,” I reply sternly. “Wanna bet?”
“I do,” she tells me in the same tone, and then we shake hands. Just like that, it’s on. And I’m going
to prove her what I’m made of.
Emma is still shaking her head, though. “If this comes out…”
“It won’t,” I say. “I told you. We spoke about what happened, and it’s fine. Just drop it now. I regret
telling you. I wanted to share it with you, but you’re being such a drip.”
“You’re being irresponsible. Why am I the only sibling acting like an adult?”
I take a deep breath and count to ten before responding. I am about ready to strangle my sister.
“You know what, Em?” I say, making up my mind. “I don’t need this shit. My lunch hour is short
enough as it is, and I don’t need you lecturing me on how to live my life when I’ve been doing perfectly
fine for the last six years.”
I get up, grabbing my bag. We haven’t even ordered.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“Back to work. I have a job to do. I’m responsible that way.”
I turn around and storm away, leaving her to eat lunch all by herself.
 Kevin


“I don’t think it’s necessary to go that far with it,” Scott says. “If we just do a simple announcement
across our social media, it should be fine.”
“But the investors and the board–Hull–want results, and soon. This guy is really riding me.”
We are in my office, talking about our next step to get more clients to publish with us. Hull wants
results if he is going to invest in the company.
“I don’t know why he says he liked what we’re doing if he wants it all to change, now,” Scott says.
I nod. “But if we lose him, we’re fucked. We need the cash he’s putting into his.”
Scott nods.
Carly knocks on the door, and I nod at her. She opens the door.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says. “I have the documents you asked for.”
“Ah,” I say and hold out my hand. She brings the stack of papers to me, still warm from the copy
machine. “Thank you, Carly.”
She smiles at me, nods at Scott, and turns around. She wears a black pencil skirt– my favorite–and
stockings with a mint green top. It accentuates her curves perfectly, tracing her body. Her dark hair is
pulled up in a ponytail so that all her body is visible. I watch her leave, swinging her ass from side to
side as she takes every step in her low heels. She walks like she knows I am staring at her. Maybe she
does know. She is such a tease. Scott turns in his seat and watches her walk away, too.
“She really is a stunner,” Scott says. “That ass. I can just imagine what it looks like if she’s naked.”
I flash on the view of her ass on my hips when she’d been on top of me, reverse cowgirl. Or when
I’d fucked her from behind, making her ass jiggle. It had taken a lot not to come right then. Just thinking
about it makes me hard again. I tug at my pants beneath the table, trying to readjust myself inside my
boxers.
I nod. “She’s fucking perfect,” I say.
Scott chuckles. “Are we back to that? A pure ten? I mean, she’s hot. Her tits and her ass are top
shelf. But that’s not all there is to it, and you know it. How many girls have had the perfect body, and they
turned out to be lousy in bed?”
I laugh. “I hear you, man. And you can knock her all you like. But I speak from experience.”
Scott narrows his eyes at me. “Are you kidding me?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No. I tapped that.”
Scott laughs. “Wow,” he says. “What the fuck? When?”
“Two nights ago,” I say. “Wednesday after work.”
“So, you tell me on Friday morning? Why am I only hearing about it now?”
I laugh again and shrug. “I wasn’t going to call you up like a woman and gossip about my
sexcapades. Come on, bro.”
Scott shakes his head, trying to look sour but failing. He is still grinning.
“So, you think she was good enough to still deserve that ten from you?”
I nod. “Oh yeah. Fuck the ten – she’s an eleven. She’s wild in bed. This timid assistant that you’re
seeing isn’t nearly what she’s like behind closed doors.”
Scott shakes his head. “So, you’re fucking your secretary? Do you want to be any more cliché?”
“Jealousy makes you nasty,” I say. “Besides, once I win this bet, I’ll be fucking the VP.”
Scott sighs. “You’re right,” he says. “I’m jealous. I want to have a turn with her, too.”
I shrug. “I don’t object to that. You know that. I don’t know if she’ll do it. She might need some
working on. But she’s different in bed. She might go for it.”
Scott leans back in his chair and rubs his palms on his pants. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he
says. “Maybe this is the one, eh?”
“I don’t know. I asked her about you.”
Scott raises his eyebrows. “Well, you’ve moving fast, aren’t you?”
“Just looking out for you,” I say, laughing. “You won’t go far if I’m not here to help you out.”
“What did she say?”
I study Scott’s face. He is eager, eyes hungry. He wants this as badly as I do. And he is a good guy–
not just in the bedroom, but overall.
“Well, she seemed…interested,” I say.
Scott breaks into a wide grin.
“Good enough for me,” he says.
I nod. It is good enough for me, too. We can work with a maybe. A maybe can be turned into a yes.
A no is a no, and I would never mess with that.
I don’t know what happened, but now I no longer want to just let her go to Scott. He’s like a brother
to me, sure, but passing Carly around like that…it just doesn’t feel right.
But I don’t have to pass her around, do I? We can just share.
If Carly doesn’t want it, we will honor her wishes completely. God knows, that’s why we haven’t
done it yet. If she doesn’t want it, she doesn’t want it. But I hope that she does. I want to fuck her, and now
I want to fuck her with my best friend.
“Listen, if we do this, or even if we don’t, you can’t talk about this. I can’t let Hull or any of the
others find out, or we’ll lose so much.”
Scott nods. “Who am I going to tell?”
“I know,” I say. “But I’m serious. Hull scares the shit out of me. His money is so needed right now,
and he was so anal about that fight. If he finds out we’re doing something like this, or even that I already
slept with her, it will be my head rolling.”
Scott waves his hand. “It’s not going to come from me, trust me on that. Even if I don’t get to have
her at all, I’m not going to risk the company.”
I nod and take a deep breath. Hull has me worked up into a frenzy. Why am I not backing down and
doing what he asks? Why am I putting myself in this position by doing what I know he doesn’t want me to
do?
Well, for one, it is still my company. And I want Carly, and usually, I get what I want. Besides,
fucking her when she is my assistant is a thrill. It’s one of those things that is considered forbidden, and
the moment someone told me that I’m not allowed to do something, I want to do it.
“How are we going to do it?” Scott asks. He’s shifted in his seat, but I can see how turned on he is.
Men can’t exactly hide an erection.
“Listen,” I start, running the tip of my tongue between my lips and locking eyes with Scott. “I can’t
simply let of her. You can be with her, I know you want it. But I want her too – even if we have to share.”
I study his expression for a second, trying to read it, and then he just grins at me.
“Well, that’s an easy proposal,” he laughs, and then pats my arm. “You’re just an extension of
myself, man, so we don’t have to worry about it.”
“I think the easiest way will be to spend a bit of time with her, the two of us, and let her get to know
us and get comfortable with us. I think that will make it easier to do, then. More comfortable when we’re
all comfortable around each other.”
Scott nods slowly, thinking. “Yeah, that could work.”
“And if she doesn’t go for it, we stick to just fucking her alone, without the other.”
Scott grins again. “I can live with that. I like it. I want her to agree, though. I can just imagine what
it will be like. God, how long have we been talking about this?”
“Too long,” I say. “It’s time to make it happen.”
“Doesn’t change our bet. It’s still a race to VP,” he tells me, that flash of competition in his eyes.
“Race to VP.”
Scott nods. “When are we going out?” he asks. “Tonight?”
I shake my head. “I have a family thing I can’t get out of. Let’s do tomorrow night.”
“We’ll have to go somewhere else than The Exchange for a while. Not just because of the fight but
because of the tabloids.”
I nod. Scott is right. They will be keeping an eye on the place, waiting for us because we are there
so often. We will have to do something different. I don’t like going to other places when I have
somewhere I enjoy.
There isn’t much I can do about it, though.
Scott slaps his hands on his thighs and pushes himself up.
“I guess I better get back to work,” he says. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning. We’ll make plans.”
I nod and watch Scott leave. He is just as interested in Carly as I am. If she agrees, this is
happening. God, the idea of a threesome has become a kind of dream, unreachable but something we still
hope for every time.
Now, it looks like are finally getting there. Of course, we still don’t know for sure. Just because
I’ve slept with her doesn’t mean she would do Scott as well. And I don’t know if she’ll consider the two
of us together, once we pose it to her as something that would really happen.
It’s still worth a shot.
Carly comes into the office again.
“Mr. Reed phoned. He wants to know if you’re still doing lunch with him on Monday. I confirmed
for you and asked his secretary to send through the details.”
“Thanks, Carly,” I say. She does her job well. I’m relieved someone is working hard because my
mind has been on other things all day.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask.
Carly blinks at me before her lips pull up into a smile.
“Why?”
“Scott and I are going out. I wanted you to join us.”
She raises her eyebrows, and she looks like she wants to say something, but she swallows it. When
she speaks, it isn’t what she wants to say.
“I’m taking my sister out. I was a bit of a bitch to her, and I want to make it up to her.”
I nod. She has a sister. Interesting.
“You can always join us afterward, you know,” I say.
She thinks about it for a moment. “That could work,” she says. “I’ll have to see, though.”
I nod. “I’ll text you the details in the morning, and you can swing by if you want to.”
She smiles and nods. “I’ll try,” she says.
“I hope I’ll see you there.”
She leaves my office again, and I watch her leave. I really hope she will come. I want to see her
again, but I want her to get to know Scott as well. If we are all comfortable around each other, maybe
there is a chance of this happening. But it isn’t just about that. She is hot and she is funny, and I want to go
out and have a good time with her.
Even if nothing else happens.
After Wednesday and how eager she was to get into bed with me, I doubt that nothing would
happen, even though I told her we couldn’t do it again. If I feel it with her, I am going to go ahead and
come onto her. And if she doesn’t say no, well, then it is going to happen.
I know that I am playing with fire that I am taking chances, but I want to risk it. For her, for fantastic
sex and a possible threesome, I would risk it all. We just have to be careful. What are the chances of us
getting caught, anyway?
 Carly


“Come on, Em. It will be fun. Let’s just let our hair down. We haven’t gone out dancing together
since you and Ron started dating.”
Emma rolls her eyes. She is applying makeup in the mirror, and she doesn’t like the idea of going to
a club. The music is too loud to talk, and everyone just gets drunk. That is her reasoning.
“That’s because we’re adults now, Carly.”
I groan. “So now that you’re an ‘adult,’ you’re never going to live a little again? You went from
zero to granny in two years.”
Emma looks in the mirror at me and her eyes aren’t friendly.
“I thought you wanted to make it up to me,” she says.
I sigh. “We’re making it up to each other, remember? It takes two people to fight.”
“I know, I know,” she says. “Fine. We’ll go to your stupid club.”
I smile and hug her. Kevin had texted me the details. They are going to Aqua, and I want to go with
them. I know I am using Emma a bit to spend time with Kevin, but I tell myself that if she meets him, she
will realize that what we’d done isn’t so bad.
There was a time when Emma had been cool about everything. I don’t know when she changed into
the person she is now–maybe Ron is half the problem–but it is getting harder and harder to relate to her.
Still, I see her as my confidante, and I tell her everything. She disagrees with about half of it now, so we
get stuck often, but I make it work.
She is my sister, after all.
I put on a red dress that is so tight, it looks painted on. It is just short enough to make my legs look
impossibly long, and I’m wearing big black heels with it. My dark hair with the red dress makes me look
fierce, and I want Kevin to see me like this. I feel good. I feel sexy.
Emma put on a nice pair of pants and a blouse that is a lot less revealing than she used to wear. She
may not have the same body type as I do, but she can do low-cut tops and skinny jeans. She just doesn’t
anymore.
“Right, then,” she says when she’s finally finished. “Let’s go.”
We get into Emma’s car. She isn’t going to drink so she volunteered to drive. I’m scared that means
we will leave early. Who parties sober? But she insisted, and I couldn’t pick another fight on the night I’m
supposed to fix the last fight we had.
We park close to Aqua and walk the last block. There is a line, and when we finally make it inside,
it is packed.
“Why are we here, again?” Emma asks over the music.
“To have fun,” I say.
 Emma mumbles something, but I ignore her. The music gets louder as we walk farther inside, and
the club is dark with bluish lighting. I am already dancing, scanning the crowd for Kevin and Scott.
I want to party the night away.
We go to the bar first, and I order a vodka tonic for me and a water for Emma. We pay and head
back out toward the dance floor. I spot Kevin and Scott standing in a corner, looking around. My stomach
leaps, and I tap Emma on the shoulder.
“He’s here,” I say.
“Who?” she asks. The music is so loud, we have to lean into each other to hear what we are saying.
“Kevin, my boss. And a colleague. Let me introduce you.”
Emma shakes her head, but I grab her hand and drag her with me. When Kevin sees me coming
through the crowd, he smiles and nudges Scott. As I come closer, the two of them look me up and down in
unison. Well now, nothing as nice as attention from two men.
“This is Emma,” I say, pulling my sister to stand next to me. “This is Kevin and Scott.”
Emma smiles politely, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“What a coincidence that you’re here the same time we are,” Emma says, and I know what she is
getting at. She knows that I came here to see Kevin. She knows me well enough.
The only difference is before, she would have agreed to make it happen for me. Now, she is more
like my mom and trying to get away from everything that we used to do together.
“We’re going to dance,” Kevin says, leaning into me. His cologne is strong and intoxicating. “Come
with us.”
I nod. Emma shakes her head. We all ignore her and go to the dance floor. Emma follows us, and
we find a small space on the dance floor the four of us can squeeze into. Kevin is to my left, Emma to my
right. I move to the music, letting it flow through me. I love to dance.
Emma looks sour. She keeps glaring at Kevin.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Emma shakes her head. “I can’t stand here and watch you do this,” she says.
“Do what?”
“Throw your life away.”
I roll my eyes. This isn’t going to go away, is it?
“What’s wrong?” Kevin asks, leaning in to hear our conversation since we’d stopped dancing. I’m
pissed off and not in the mood to make Emma feel better if she is going to insist on being a little bitch.
“Emma is just jealous,” I say.
“What?” Emma cries.
I look at her with a you-know-it’s-true face. I am being a bitch, yes, but she is being a real pain in
my ass. I don’t need her raining on my parade when I’m old enough to look after myself.
“Fuck this shit,” Emma says. “I’m leaving.”
 She turns and disappears into the crowd before I can say something.
“That was my ride home,” I say.
“I’ll get you home, princess. Don’t worry.”
Kevin called me princess, and that makes everything else fall away. It’s another one of those little
comments that can come across so wrong, but the way he says it makes me shiver.
“It’s fine,” I say when Kevin wants to say something to me about it. “I don’t care. I’m here with you
guys now. Let’s enjoy ourselves.”
Kevin and Scott exchange a glance that I can’t read, and I don’t bother trying to decipher it. I want
to get drunk and move my body to the music.
The boys are happy to oblige. Scott organizes shots for us. Three shots of tequila. I don’t bother to
do the salt-and-lemon routine. We do another round, just for good measure, and when I have the two
drinks down and am sipping a cocktail of my own, I feel better. I’m starting to feel light and airy, and the
fight with Emma is staring to fade into the background.
“Let’s go dance,” Kevin says with his mouth so close to my ear that his hot breath on my neck gives
me Goosebumps. My body is hot after having the tequila, and I am getting wet. Alcohol does that to me.
I nod and he takes my hand, leading me onto the dance floor. Scott follows closely behind, and we
start dancing. I move my body to the music. It’s the one thing I know I can do well, and the music flowing
through me always makes me feel amazing.
Kevin steps closer to me so that his body is pressed up against mine. His hands wrap around my
hips, and he pulls me closer still. His crotch is against mine, and I can feel his hard dick as he grinds
against me. We sway together, dry-humping to the music.
I feel another body behind me, and I glance over my shoulder, confirming that it is Scott. He seems
careful, unsure if he is overstepping, but my blood is boiling after the fallout with my sister and the
alcohol. I like the idea of having him at my back. His arms come around my waist, and he pulls himself
against me, pushing himself against my ass.
He is hard, too. I can feel his cock through his jeans and the thin material of the dress I’m wearing.
And I like it. I get wetter, my body responding to the double-hit I am getting. Scott and Kevin both rub
themselves against me. Kevin’s hands trail down to my bare thighs. Scott’s hands are on my hips, and they
move back and forth to the music. I am caught in a cock sandwich, and I love it.
Something vibrates against my thigh.
“Sorry,” Kevin says and steps away. He answers the phone, his other hand pressed to his ear so that
he can hear. I turn my attention back to Scott who is still behind me, grinding into my ass. His hands are
still on my body, and he is pulling me against him, moving to the music that pulsates through me like sex.
“I have to go,” Kevin says, leaning over my shoulder so both Scott and I can hear him. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry,” Scott says. “I’ll get her home.” He lets go of me and leans toward Kevin, talking in
his other ear for a moment before Kevin nods.
 “I’m sorry to love and leave you guys,” he says. Kevin pulls me close for a hug. It is one of those
hugs that presses our bodies together completely, and I feel the line of his body, taut and muscular and hot.
“I’ll see you around,” he says in my ear and kisses me on the cheek before he turns around and
leaves.
“Work emergency,” Scott says when I turned to him. “But you and I can still have some fun.”
I shiver at the way he says it. He is practically a stranger. But he is hot and handsome–with dark
hair and grassy green eyes. I let him pull me closer to him again on the dance floor. We move to the music,
his body pressing against mine, his cock grinding against my crotch. I am getting hotter and wetter. Scott’s
hands roam my body and we are getting more daring, less concerned about what the other clubgoers will
think of us.
This is the second guy in less than a week, but the alcohol makes me reckless, and I want this. I
want him.
Scott’s hands slide over my breasts, and his head dips into the crook of my neck. I gasp when he
nibbles on my skin at the same time he squeezes my breasts. I am so wet. The excitement of being with
someone new touches me in all the right places.
“I want you,” I say into his ear. I’m being daring.
“I want you, too,” he says. “I want you to be my dirty girl.”
The words alone make me shiver.
“Right now,” he adds.
He pulls away from me when he says it and takes my hand, leading me through the crowds. He is
taking me away to fuck me, I’m sure. And I want it. I want him to fuck me hard. My body needs it. I need
that release. I am hot and horny.
Instead of leading me to the door and taking me home, Scott turns in a different direction.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Somewhere I can have you,” he says.
We move farther and farther away from the crowds, the music becoming a dull thump in the
background. He finds a door and tries it. It opens and it looks like a storage closet.
“Here?” I ask.
“Oh, yes,” he says.
He pulls me inside. He might have done it anyway, even if I want to protest, but I don’t resist his
advances at all. My body is desperate to be alone with him.
Scott closes the door behind us and clicks on a light. We are squashed in between boxes and
alcohol bottles and glasses. Scott presses me against the door, pinning me with his body. His tongue is in
my mouth before I can think straight. Everything about him is different than with Kevin. Scott is harder,
more demanding. It brings out the submissive side in me. His hand goes to my breast, pinching the nipple
through the material so that I whimper into his mouth.
 “Is there a lock on the door?” I ask between kisses.
“We’ll keep it closed with your body,” he says and kisses me again.
I’m not about to fight him on that. I am just drunk enough that I don’t care about getting caught. Scott
pushes his hand beneath the skirt of my dress, and his fingers probe my clit through the thin material of my
thong. I gasp.
He pulls the panties aside and pushes a finger into me. I gasp again and open my legs.
“Play with yourself for me, kitten,” he says and steps back. I blink at him.
“What?”
“Touch yourself, sweetness. Make yourself come, I want to watch you.”
Desire flares when he talks dirty to me. I’m not getting sex, but God, this is hot. I pull my dress up
so that it’s around my waist, exposing my panties. I run my fingers over the satin material, pushing against
my clit. My other hand goes to my breast. I tug my neckline down, showing off my bra, and rub circles
around my nipples through the matching material. My lips are parted. I lick them and breathe through my
mouth. My eyes are on Scott.
He watches me intently, eyes sliding over my body, and I can feel his gaze like a physical touch. I
shiver. It’s strange standing here in front of him, putting a show on, on demand. But I am hot, horny, and a
little drunk, and when he says fuck me, I want to ask him how hard.
“Give me more, baby girl,” he says. His hands are twitching at his belt. I don’t know if he wants to
do himself or do me. I don’t concentrate on that. I do what he asks of me. I pull my panties down a bit and
push my fingers into my slit. I moan when I touch my clit.
“God, you’re a naughty girl, aren’t you?” Scott asks. If I were less drunk and less aroused, I would
have thought twice about the question–this is the second guy, and both are from work. That doesn’t matter
right now. Instead, I moan in response.
I rub my clit faster and faster. I pull the cup of my bra down to expose my bare breast and my tight
nipple. I pinch my own nipple and tug at it. I rub my clit faster and faster. My body curls forward, my ass
against the door, and it is hard to keep my balance while I touch myself standing up.
An orgasm comes fast. I know just how to touch myself to get off in no time at all, and that is what
Scott wants. I cry out, my breath catching in my throat for a moment while a wash of pleasure ripples
through me. I pinch my nipple harder and press my fingers against my clit, riding out the wave I created
for myself.
When the orgasm subsides, I open my eyes and look at Scott. I am half-exposed and I feel suddenly
self-conscious, but his face is satisfied. A grin spreads across his features.
“That’s it, kitten,” he says and steps closer to me. I feel him against me, his cock hard and
unsatisfied.
 Scott


Carly is fucking hot – Kevin hadn’t been exaggerating when he told me that she is a wildcat in bed.
She is the perfect combination of sexy and daring. I watched her as she played with herself, and I could
barely contain myself. I wanted to grab my cock and jack off or shove it into her pussy. But I held back
because my time would come.
And that time is now.
The moment she came down from her orgasm, I step closer to her.
“Was that good?” I ask her.
She nods and glances at me through hooded eyes. I push her against the door, pinning one wrist
above her head. I grab her breast that is showing and squeeze it. I pinch her nipple the same way she’d
done until she whimpers. I’m not hurting her. I keep it on the edge of actual pain. But I am going to show
her who is in control.
I let go of her breast only to push her panties down lower. She closes her legs when her panties are
on her knees, and they fall to the floor. She steps skillfully out of them, and I know she’s done it before.
I push her legs apart again and my fingers find her pussy. I find her clit and she gasps, sensitive
after her orgasm. I push my fingers into her, and I’m met with a wetness that makes my dick throb.
“You’re so wet, my dirty little whore,” I say.
She moans. My words are egging her on just as much as my fingers are. I pump my hand up and
down, finger fucking her for a moment. When I let go of her, she whimpers again.
“You want more?” I ask. She swallows and nods. “Yeah, I didn’t think that would be enough for
you. You’re hungry, aren’t you?”
I undo my buckle, unzip my pants, and pull out my cock. I am rock hard, my flesh heavy in my hand.
She lifts her leg a little, and I wrap my hand around her thigh, lifting her leg higher. I let go of her wrist
and focus on her body. Her one tit still hangs out, and I grab it again, massaging it roughly. She moans
softly. I aim for her pussy and press the head of my cock against her entrance. She puts her hands on my
shoulders to steady herself, and I push into her.
Her body stretches and yields as I push into her.
“God, you’re tight,” I say. “If you weren’t this good at it, I would have sworn you’re a virgin.” She
gasps as I push as deep into her as I can before pulling out again. “But you fuck often,” I say and slam into
her, harder this time. She cries out.
“Shh, babe, the music out there isn’t that loud.”
She nods. Her lips are parted, her dark eyes are glazed, and her pupils are dilated. Her brunette
hair hangs into her face, and she makes one hell of a sight, her body ready for the taking, more than half
exposed.
 I start fucking her against the door, sliding my cock in and out of her. Her walls grip me as I pump
into her, and she whimpers and moans. Her cries get louder and louder. I press my lips against hers,
kissing her.
“If you don’t stay quiet, I might have to gag you,” I say.
She moans. God, she eats up my words. I don’t meet a lot of women that respond to dirty talk the
way she does.
I fuck her harder still. The door makes a thumping sound as we bang it into the frame. If someone
walks past, they will hear it, and we will be interrupted. That won’t do.
I pull out of her. She lowers her leg and stands in front me, breathing hard. I put my hand behind her
neck and pull her in for a kiss, probing her with my tongue, penetrating her. When I break the kiss, I spin
her around so she faces away from me. I bend her over, one hand on her hip and the other on her back. Her
ass points at me, and she wiggles it.
I groan. “God, kitten, I want to come all over you.”
She is wet. Her pussy lips are bare and glistening with our sex. I guide my cock to her entrance and
push into her again. Carly braces herself with her hands on the door. Her back is arched, and I run my
hand up and back down her spine.
I fuck her again, my dick pumping in and out of her pussy, and it’s a sight to behold. Her ass cheeks
jiggle back and forth as I fuck her, and she makes gasping sounds, keeping it down this time. My balls slap
against her pussy with every stroke, and I wish she would come again because of it.
She tips her head up, and her dark hair is splayed over her back. I reach for it and grab a handful of
the stuff. She cries out when I do, losing control of her silence. I pull back her head as gently as my
control would allow, and I hold her in a position where her back is arched, her ass perfectly on display
while I slide my cock in and out of her. Her gasping and moaning get louder again.
I don’t hold on to her for too long, for fear of her moaning becoming too loud. Instead, I let go of
her hair, reach for her face, and find her mouth. She turns her head and sucks two of my fingers into her
mouth. Her tongue swirls around my fingers, searing hot, and I can just imagine what it would be like to
fuck her mouth.
I have to pull out. I stop fucking her for the sake of holding back my own orgasm. If we carry on
like this, I am going to come inside her long before I’m done with my fun.
I slow my pace right down, stroking slowly in and out of her to control my own urges. She lets go
of my fingers, and I reach around to her tits. My fingers are still wet with her saliva, and I rub my fingers
around her nipple. I slide my hand farther down her body, over her ribs, her lower abdomen, and between
her legs. I bend my body over hers and finger her clit.
She gasps. Her hair on her back brushes against my cheek, and I rub her clit in circles while I pump
in and out of her. She gasps and moans, and her body shudders beneath me. Her walls tighten around my
cock, and I know she is getting closer.
 A moment later, she cries out. Her body clamps down around mine, and I feel the pleasure roll
through her body as she holds her breath for a moment at her peak.
She breathes hard again, and her body pulsates around mine. If I were coming right now, she’d be
milking me dry. But I’m not there yet, and I don’t want to be.
When her orgasm is almost over, I straighten again and put my hands on her hips. I hold onto her
and fuck her hard. I pound in and out of her, her pussy tight around me, her body drinking me in.
I fuck her as hard and as long as I can before I can’t hold out anymore. I slow down, then I stop.
When I pull out, she gasps, and it sounds like a cross between a complaint and relief.
She stands up straight and turns to me. We are both breathing hard. The smell of sex hangs in the
room, and my scent mixes with hers. Her skin is flush and her lips are parted when she looks at me. We
aren’t done yet, not even close. We are just taking a breather. We need that. The sex is more intense than
I’ve had in a while. It takes a hell of a lot out of me, even before I’ve orgasmed.
Carly steps closer to me, and I pull her against me for a kiss. She is all sensual and erotic now. But
not emotional. It’s rare to find a woman that isn’t emotional when it comes to sex–I hate those that get all
attached when it is just supposed to be a good fuck–but Carly seems to have her head in the right place.
 Carly


Scott is fantastic. I am fucking my boss’s best friend, as if fucking my boss isn’t enough, but it is
fantastic. I never thought I would be so into sex with a guy I barely know, and in a storage closet at a club,
no less.
But I don’t care. Lust is so thick in the room, I can barely breathe, and I want to keep going. I want
more. And Scott looks like he is willing to give me more. But it is my turn now.
I look around and notice A chair I hadn’t seen before.
“Sit down,” I say.
Scott looks surprised at the command, and he looks around. When he spots the chair, he backs up
and sits down. The chair is hard plastic and not exactly comfortable, but that doesn’t matter. I walk
toward him, hips rolling, my body on display for him. I’m not exactly elegant with my one breast hanging
out and my dress riding up over my ass, but the way his hungry eyes drag over my body makes me forget
about everything but the sex I want to have with him. I straddle him, standing on my toes. His jeans aren’t
even down–only his zipper is undone to expose his hard cock–and the material of his pants are rough
underneath my thighs.
Another thing I don’t give a shit about.
I wrap my fingers around the base of his cock and hold him up, sitting down on him.
I gasp as he slides into me. He is quite big and every angle means I have to readjust. I move around
a little before I start rocking my hips back and forth. I ride Scott, going harder and faster. My hips roll
over his dick, and he slides in and out of me.
My mouth is open, eyes closed, head tipped back. He reaches for my dress and pulls the material
and the bra down so that both my breasts are exposed. They are squeezed together and put on perfect
display for him. It’s like something out of a porno, and I love being this dirty.
“Your tits are perfect, my little whore,” he says to me. A wash of pleasure–echoes of the orgasm I
just had–roll over me. His dirty words push the right buttons, even though I don’t usually like that kind of
thing. Coming out of Scott’s mouth, though struck a naughty chord in me.
He massages my breasts, kneading them, tugging on the nipples. I cry out when he does. He dips his
head and takes one nipple into his mouth, nibbling and licking. He continues with his hand on my other
breast, massaging, kneading, while I ride him.
“God, Scott,” I breathe. He carries on sucking my nipple, and I rock my hips back and forth. My clit
rubs against his pubic bone, but I am too sensitive to come again. That isn’t going to happen right away.
Scott moves away from my breast, sliding his hand around my waist. He reaches for the back of my
head with the other hand, closing his fist around my hair. I cry out. It translates into pleasure, rather than
pain. Scott tips my head back so that the line of my neck is exposed. He kisses me at the base of my neck,
the stubble scratching at my skin. I can’t focus on riding him anymore.
Scott takes over. He is far more dominant than I am, and I’m happy to let him take control again.
With his hand in my hair and an arm wrapped around my waist, he stands up, holding me against
him in the air. He bends over so that I hang in his arms, pussy right where it needs to be. He starts bucking
his hips, fucking me. He slams into me, fucking me hard, and it is impossible to stay quiet. I cry out as he
pounds away at my pussy, his thick cock sliding in and out. I am at his mercy completely.
“Quiet, Carly,” he says, using my name instead of a nickname. I swallow my moans and my screams
and try to keep it down.
Scott pulls out of me, stands up, and sets me down. I stand on wobbly legs as he kisses me. His
tongue pushes into my mouth, traces my lips, and tastes every inch of me before he moves toward my
neck. Scott kisses a trail of fire down my neck. He licks my collar bone and moves to the soft skin on my
chest. His hands find my breasts again and he massages them. They are still pushed up by my dress.
Scott’s hands roam over my body as he kisses every inch of skin that is visible. For a moment, it is all
sensual and caring, as if he is someone that could have affection for me, or me for him.
He kneels in front of me and puts his hand between my legs, suggesting I open them. I widen my
stance, and he presses his face against my lips, his tongue sliding into my slit. I whimper as his warm
tongue moves over my clit, licking up and down my slit in warm, slow laps. His gentle approach and the
warmth of his tongue is soothing after he fucked me as hard as he did. I get lost in a wave of bliss that
spreads through my body, clenching my muscles, tugging at my core in a completely different kind of
orgasm.
When I finish, Scott pulls away and looks up at me. His lips glisten with my sex and his eyes are
evergreen.
He stands up. His cock is hard, bobbing through his open pants.
“Suck on me, kitten,” he says.
I shiver. It does something to me when he talks like that. I don’t hesitate. I kneel before him and
look at his cock that is now face height.
It is thick and hard, the skin smooth, like silk over steel. The bulbous head is almost purple, and he
is slick with our sex.
Smiling, I lean forward and roll my lips down the length of his shaft.
God, I never expected that being a secretary would be this fun.
 Kevin


Monday morning, I have a meeting with some of the editors first thing. I hate starting the week off
with meetings, but I am the boss and that is the only way to get everyone in gear for the rest of the week.
Starting full speed after the weekend is always harder than it looks.
This time, the meeting is a lot more fun than normal. Not only is Carly present, but she looks like a
wet dream. She wears a black dress suit with a skirt that is just long enough not to get her into trouble
with the company dress code. She wears a crisp white blouse beneath her blazer that gapes a little when
she bends forward so that I can see into her cleavage. Her dark hair is pulled away from her face, and her
lips are a deep red.
Kissable. Fuckable.
Scott is present, too. The sexual tension between him and Carly is so thick I can taste it. It is pretty
damn obvious he fucked her. He asked me if he could that night at the club before I left. I told him I had no
problem with it. He needed to get in there if we are going to attempt a threesome. The more comfortable
Carly is with the both of us, the better.
It is a good sign that she let him in, too. It means that we are that much closer to making that happen.
I desperately want to fuck her. I want to have a threesome with her and Scott. Scott is my best friend, my
wingman. I trust him with this, and it is going to be nothing but hot if we manage to get Carly to agree.
I have no idea on how we went from a simple bet to considering a threesome, but what the hell – it
sounds fucking perfect.
Just thinking about it gets me hot and bothered. I shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable around
my erection.
Scott glances at me. I know he is thinking the same thing. He’s seen Carly’s outfit, too. Plus, he had
fucked her, so he knows what she is like. We are in this together, our arousal something we have to work
with in a meeting where everyone else is present.
Carly glances up at me. Her lips curl into a smile. Is she thinking the same thing? Is she thinking
about sex with me or with Scott? Is she thinking about fucking us both? I’ve already planted that seed in
her mind, but I still don’t know for sure if that is what she wants.
I want her to want it. I need to find out where she is at, after the meeting.
I know Scott will be dying to find out, too. God, if she is willing, I can just imagine what we will
be doing to her. I would fuck her in every hole. Her mouth is delicious. Her pussy is heaven, and her ass,
well, I still haven’t gone there with her. But I’m sure it is something we can touch on. If she wants to do
this, we are going to do it properly.
When I look at Scott, his eyes meet mine. I can see the hunger in his face–seeing him around women
for years has taught me the telltale signs. It is impossible for the three of us to be in the same room
together and not have the atmosphere be sexually charged.
The meeting finally ends, and the other members file out one by one. When it is just the three of us
left, I get up and close the door.
“I hope you took notes of all that,” I say to Carly.
“That’s what I’m here for,” she says, and I know that she did more than just take notes. I’ve been
giving her more and more responsibility, and she’s jotting down her thoughts on the margin of her notes.
She has an analytical mind, one capable of cutting through the bullshit everyone loves to spout during
meetings.
Good. Because I hadn’t been able to concentrate at all.
“Will you send them through to me, too?” Scott asks. “I didn’t exactly pay attention.”
Carly looks at him, and her face changes. A sexy smile replaced the innocent one.
“Were you distracted?” she asks.
“You know I was,” he says with a grin. She smiles back at him.
“It’s hard to fuck you and not think about it, afterward,” I say to her.
She turns to me. If she is embarrassed or surprised about how quickly this conversation turned
dirty, she doesn’t show it. Scott and I pick up our chairs and move closer to her so the three of us sit
together in a huddle.
“So, what do you think about a threesome?” I ask her. She glances at Scott.
“I want to do it,” she says, the words rolling out of her mouth fast. She doesn’t even sound unsure.
“Really?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Carly says and smiles. “I’ve never done it before, and I think it could be fun. I’ve been
thinking a lot about it since…since I tried the two of you. I want it.”
I glance at Scott. He is grinning. Fuck, we are going to do this, aren’t we?
“Are you sure about this?” Scott asks. “We don’t want you to feel uncomfortable about anything, or
feel obligated to do this.”
Carly nods. “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, trust me. I want to do this. I want both of you to
fuck me.”
Hearing her talk dirty like that makes me hot. Scott shifts in his seat, and I know he is as hot and
horny as I am. If I had a choice, we would do it all right now. I would rip off her clothes, expose her tits
and her ass. I would turn around so that she was facing Scott and bury my cock in her pussy while she
sucks him off.
Thinking about getting her down and dirty like that makes me shiver, and I push the thoughts away.
Control that is the key right now.
“How are things with your sister?” Scott asks, bringing me back to reality. The question is a good
one, too. Emma, was it? She seemed very upset when we’d been at the club together. It made me wish that
Carly hadn’t brought her along, or that I hadn’t invited her to join us with her sister.
 “Yeah, we’re okay, I guess,” Carly says with a shrug. “She’s having a little fit. She’ll get over it
again. They don’t last very long.”
“So, you haven’t sorted it out?” I ask.
Carly shakes her head. “There’s nothing to sort out. I’m old enough to do whatever I want. She
can’t tell me how to live my life.”
Scott glances at me. “Is she upset about us being on the picture?”
Carly sighs. “She’s just jealous that I can have fun when she doesn’t know how to. She’s a wet
blanket sometimes.”
“I guess, what we’re trying to figure out is if she’s going to be a problem,” I say. Scott nods. Carly
looks from me to Scott and back to me again. “We have a serious image we need to uphold here with the
investors being so anal about our image. If we do this and it comes out, we’re screwed.”
Carly nods. “I get what you mean. And no, she won’t be a problem. My relationships, or which men
I’m with, has nothing to do with her.”
“So, no problems?” I ask. It is imperative that we keep this behind closed doors. Franklin Hull is
really an asshole when it comes to what he wants, and he won’t hesitate to withdraw his money and
maybe even sink the company if it comes down to it.
And if that happens, no one’s going to win our Carly bet. Although that shouldn’t be a real concern,
it is. We take our bets seriously. Even if they involve turning a vegan into a furious steak-devourer.
“No problems,” Carly says. “This is between the three of us. No one will hear a word of it from my
mouth.”
I nod, happy with what she said. Scott look satisfied, too. I know that his satisfied look is more than
just satisfaction about the investors and their ignorance. We are going to do this. We are going to have our
threesome. Scott and I are going to fuck the same woman at the same time, and I can’t wait for it to
happen.
I can’t believe this is fucking happening.
Carly gets up. “I have some work to do,” she says. “Notes to type up, emails to send.”
I nod. “Sure, I’ll see you in the office.”
I watch her leave the meeting room. She swings her hips from side to side as she walks, her ass a
sight to behold. She closes the door behind her. I look at Scott.
“Well,” I say. “There it is.”
“Fuck, yeah,” he says and grins. “You weren’t joking about her. She’s something else.”
I chuckle. “I figured you had her. What was she like?”
“God, she was good. You didn’t tell me how dirty she can be. She looks like such an innocent thing,
but once she’d turned on… wow.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I was surprised, too. I want details, bro.”
Scott tells me everything. The storage closet at the club is so much dirtier than anything I’ve done
but that is Scott’s style. He has no shame. When he wants it, he gets it, no matter where it is. He has a dirty
mouth and a dirtier mind. He talks to women like they are objects and they still come for him because he
knows just how to do it.
Carly had liked it, too, obviously. She wants to do a threesome with us now. I don’t doubt that it is
because of Scott and how he operates. He makes them feel like it is a privilege to have him fuck them.
And he is the perfect candidate for a threesome because with something like that, everything decent goes
out of the window.
Fucking a woman with your best friend just doesn’t fall under sweet and safe. It is down and dirty
and just the thing that Scott would be able to facilitate.
“We have to do it soon,” Scott says. “In case she changes her mind.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think she’s going to change her mind. We’ll just keep going, and if we
can’t do it together yet, we’ll just keep fucking her. Keep her coming.”
We both laugh. Yes, we are talking about her like she is just an object to get off to. But in a way, she
is. She is a great person and a stunning personal assistant, but she is also the woman that agreed to fuck us
both. The one that wants to do a threesome.
“I’ve been giving her a few tasks,” Scott adds then, almost offhandedly. “Six months and the board
will vote her in as VP.”
“Six months and she’ll be VP,” I agree with Kevin, but then I just grin. “But that’s because they’ll
follow my lead on that. I’ve been giving her more responsibilities, you know?”
“Keep telling yourself that, man. She’ll be my VP, not yours.”
“Anyway, we’ll talk to her and set a date, soon,” I say. “The VP stuff can wait. Right now I just
want to do this. I don’t want to wait, either, and not just because of her changing her mind or because of
the investors. I want to do it soon - I want to fuck her with you.”
Scott nods. “Yeah, man. It will be fucking hot. I can’t wait to get into her pants again, either way.”
His phone beeps.
“Gotta go,” he says when he checks it. He claps me on the shoulder and leaves the meeting room,
leaving me behind alone. I look toward the window. God, this is going to be good. Getting Carly naked
again, having her any way I want to and having Scott with me, doing the same.
The mere thought of it makes me shiver. I am hard in my pants. I could do with a release now, but
I’m not going to do anything other than jack myself off until I get to fuck Carly again.
Nothing would be satisfying the way she would be.
 Carly


I have the boys on my mind, and I am running late for work. The idea of a threesome has gotten me
riled up enough that I spent more time in bed running my hands over my own body, imagining what it
would be like if I had both doing it at the same time.
I get dressed with them in mind when I finally get up and realize how late it is. I wear dress pants
and a blouse that traces my form perfectly. I have to play by the company rules, of course, but my clothes
are far from frumpy. I noticed both of them looking yesterday, when the top buttons of my shirt had been
undone, and I’d worn a skirt and heels.
And I want them to look. I want them both to stare, to ogle, to want me the way I am starting to want
both of them.
I let my hair hang over my shoulders in loose curls, and I apply smoky makeup that makes my dark
eyes look bigger. Red lips are always enticing, and I know they both have images in their minds of me
sucking their dicks. I want them to remember that when they look at me.
I am being dirty. I’m thinking like a slut. And I don’t mind it, not today, not with them.
When I am about two blocks away from the office, my phone rings. Emma’s name flashes on the
caller screen, and I groan inwardly. I’m not sure if I feel like talking to her right now. I’m in a good mood,
and her and I haven’t exactly sorted out our differences yet. She is being a little bitch, and she hasn’t
wanted to talk to me until now, even though I’d tried. I feel like playing the same game and not answering
her calls, either.
I can’t do that, though. One of us has to give, and seeing that I’d done nothing wrong. I’m not going
to be full of shit the way she is.
“Yeah,” I answer, not bothering to hide my irritation with her.
“Are you still at home?” she asks.
“I’m on my way to the office. Why?”
“I forgot my flat iron at your house.”
I frown, going silent for a while. She isn’t calling to apologize or talk it out, is she?
“When can I get it?” she asks when I don’t answer her. Is she going to leave things the way they are
between us? Isn’t she going to try?
“I’ll be home much later,” I say. “Maybe six.”
“That’s too late. I need it before then.”
I’m getting irritated. The flat iron is more important than her relationship with me. We’ve reached a
new low.
“You’re going to have to meet me halfway for a key if you want to pick it up earlier, Em,” I say.
“I’m already late for work. I can’t turn back now.”
 She hesitates. “Yeah, okay. Where are you now? I’ll meet you.”
I explain where I am, and we agree on a place to meet.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” she says and hangs up. I’d half hoped that she would ask to see me some time
to talk about what happened, to fix our relationship. We are sisters, after all, and we’ve always been
close.
Whatever her issue is with me now, though, she isn’t going to try to reconcile with me. Not today,
unless she is planning on packing the little bit of time we’ll have when I give her my key. Which isn’t
going to happen, if I know Emma at all.
When I park the car, Emma is already there. She gets out of her car and walks to me.
“Thanks for meeting me,” she says. She doesn’t lean in to hug me.
“Sure,” I say. I fiddle in the glove compartment for the spare key I keep with me. I hand it to Emma.
“Lock up when you’re done,” I say. “I’ll get the key from you when I see you again.”
She nods. I wait for her to say something to me, to suggest when we would see each other again.
She doesn’t. She pockets the key and looks at me. She doesn’t look like she feels awkward at all. Usually
when we fought, she looks tense and unsure. This time, she looks a little smug.
“When am I seeing you?” I ask.
Emma shrugs. “I’m not sure. I’ll call you.” She glances at her watch. “But I have to go, and I know
you said you were late.”
She turns and walks to the car. I watch her get in, wave at me, and leave.
I get into my own car. Something is up. Emma is usually so quick to try and sort things out. Until she
manages to do so, she is down and difficult.
She doesn’t look like any of that right now, even though we haven’t buried the hatchet from the
other night. In fact, she looks like she is in a good mood. She looks like she is up to something. I just don’t
know what that is. I know her well enough to know that it had to be something, though.
I pull back into the road to cover the short distance left to the office.
What the hell is Emma up to? She isn’t usually this calm when we got stuck. She is usually upset or
cranky until we sort it out. Unless she was doing something that I don’t know about.
My phone rings and I answer.
“Where are you?” Kevin asks.
“On my way. I’m running a little late,” I tell him, feeling a bit nervous. I’ve fucked with him, yes,
but he’s still my boss. And both he and Scott have been relying on me more and more. If I keep up at that
rate, soon enough I’ll stop being a glorified secretary.
Which means I’ll be able to rub it in Emma’s face. I don’t like losing bets, even if they’re done in a
fury.
“Don’t stress,” he says. “Just get your delicious ass in here.”
I smile when he hangs up. Kevin knows just what to say to make me feel wanted and dominated, all
at the same time. He uses pet names now and then, but generally, even the way he acts around me is
enough to make me feel like he is my boss in more ways than one.
God, and all of that is going to happen along with Scott, the most dominating guy I’ve been with so
far. The way he took me in that storage room, ordering me around and fucking me whichever way he
pleased… the memories make me shiver.
If I am going to sleep with them both, I know it is going to be a hell of a ride.
The morning flies by. I have a lot of work to do–I am still Kevin’s PA, never mind what else we
did–and I don’t even get to think about anything dirty until lunch time when I have a chance to breathe.
“Are you headed out for lunch?” Kevin asks, popping his head out of his office door.
I shake my head. “I packed lunch.”
Buying lunch every day is a lot simpler than making food to take with me, but it costs so much
more.
“Great,” Kevin says. “When you’re done, come to my office. We can catch up a little before we get
back to work.”
I nod. My stomach tightens a little, and a thrill travels through me. I like it when Kevin asks me into
his office to talk about things that are unrelated to work. I like spending time with him, getting to know
him as a person. I’m not planning on dating–my dad had cured me of that long ago–but sex with a stranger
is impersonal, and even though Kevin and I are just fucking, it’s nice to get to know him a little.
Besides, he is so fucking hot, and being around him always gets me thinking dirty thoughts. It’s
convenient because it seems that he feels the same way.
And then there is Scott. Kevin knows that we fucked, and he seems perfectly fine with it. Not that I
have anything to feel guilty about. I am a free agent, and I can fuck whoever I want to. But with the two of
them pushing for a threesome, I guess it is normal for each of them to know that they’ve both had me.
And I don’t feel bad about that fact at all, either.
I like that I’ve been with them both. And I like that they want to take this to a new level. It is
different than anything I’ve done before, but I’m up for a challenge.
I don’t know what it is about these two, but they seem happy enough to share. And that works for
me. Oh, it really does.
Once I finish my food, I go to Kevin’s office. He beckons me in, and I close the door behind me.
Kevin gets up and walks to the full-length glass walls. He draws the blinds, creating privacy where
there was none before. I am suddenly boxed into a space that seems much smaller. When Kevin turns
around, it puts him right up against me. It is unexpected, and my breath hitches in my throat.
We’ve only been together once, and his closeness is still unnerving.
Kevin smells like cologne and desire.
“I can’t work with you all day and pretend that I don’t want to fuck you,” he says.
I shiver, a thrill running through me. Kevin places his hand on my neck, touching me lightly. He
walks around me, stroking his fingertips along my collarbone, and it takes my breath away. It is the
smallest bit of contact, and I’m getting wet.
When Kevin stands behind me, he kisses my shoulder, and I shiver. His arms come around me. With
one hand, he cups my breast, and with the other, he cups my pussy.
A knock on the door makes me freeze. It opens a moment later, and Scott walks in, closing the door
again. I taste my heart in my throat. If we’d gotten caught… I couldn’t think about it for long. Scott sees us,
with Kevin’s hands on my body, and hunger fills Scott’s face. He walks toward me, and the way he comes
toward us makes me think of a predator, stalking its prey. Or a predator that joined his pack mate to feast
on a kill.
The kill is me in that image, and I don’t care at all.
When he stands in front of me, Kevin moves his hand on my pussy to my other breast, just before
Scott presses himself against me. His cock is hard, and he gyrates his hips a little, pushing me back so my
body presses against Kevin, his cock firm against my ass.
I gasp. Scott kisses me, his tongue slipping into my mouth almost immediately.
The kiss doesn’t last long, and as if they’d both agreed on it, they let me go and step away. I am out
of breath, hot and wet and so turned on I can barely stand. Kevin walks to his desk and makes a space,
pulling himself onto it so that he sits on the desk with his legs hanging down. Scott turns one of the chairs
facing the desk, and they look like nothing has happened at all.
I am the only one that is unraveling.
“Come, sit down, Carly,” Kevin says, gesturing to the other chair. I walk toward them on unstable
legs and lower myself onto the chair.
“When are we going to do it?” Kevin asks. His eyes are on me, piercing and so bright they look
cerulean.
“Soon,” I say in a breathy voice. Scott smiles. He knows what effect they had on me.
Kevin nods, all business. “Tonight, I have something to do. A business dinner that I can’t get out of.
Tomorrow night?”
Scott nods. “Works for me.” They both look at me. We are talking about fucking each other, all three
of us, like we are trying to schedule a business meeting.
“Tomorrow night works for me, too,” I say.
“We’ll come to your place,” Scott says.
I blink at him. I am struggling to think straight. Blood is pumping to other places in my body, and
talking about when and where seems so unimportant right now.
“Mine?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Kevin says. “We still have the investors to keep in mind, and it’s the least likely that
paparazzi and the like will be watching there. We don’t need an article about this to leak because we got
careless.”
I nod. That makes sense.
“Tomorrow night, then,” I say.
 Kevin


Scott comes to my place first on Wednesday evening, before we go to Carly’s place. We go in the
same car. Neither of us says much. My thoughts are consumed by what is going to happen, and I assume
Scott’s mind is similarly occupied. The mood hangs thick in the air.
I am aroused. I’m so turned on, I can barely breathe around it. I know Scott feels the same. You
don’t drive toward a threesome and not think twice about how fucking hard you’re getting.
When I glance at him, he looks deep in thought.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask.
“Tonight,” he says. “It’s finally happening. But I don’t know where she’s at, emotionally.”
I shake my head. “Nowhere we need to worry about. I don’t get the idea that she’s in love with
either of us. That’s why she’s so perfect for this.”
Scott nods. “It would be a pity if her working relationship with you was fucked up because of this.”
I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. Soon enough I’ll win that bet and she’ll become VP.”
Scott frowns at me. “You’re that confident?”
I shrug again. I’m not sure if I am that confident or just unattached, if I have to be honest about it. I
won’t just fire her if it goes sour. Of course, it will suck, but I can’t put her out on the street once I’m done
with her. Carly is a nice person–beautiful, yes, fucking good in bed, too–but she is someone I’ve come to
care for in a way. The best way to make all this work is to make sure it doesn’t go wrong.
And if I manage to convince the board to make her our VP…well, that’ll make things easier.
There isn’t more time to talk or think about it. We pull up in front of her apartment and get out. Scott
and I are both wearing jeans and t-shirts–easy to get out of–and we both wear cologne. Nothing as sexy as
drowning a woman’s senses.
I knock on her front door and Carly opens it. She smiles when she sees us.
“Come in,” she says and stands aside.
I step in first, and Scott follows me. Carly closes the door behind us, and we turn to face her. She
looks fantastic. She wears a white sheath dress with ballerina flats, and her hair hangs down her back in a
loose braid. She wears just enough makeup to make her dark eyes look bigger and her lips luscious and
kissable.
The apartment smells of food.
“I prepared dinner for us,” she says.
“What?” Scott sounds as surprised as I feel.
“I thought it would be a good idea to eat first, have a chat. You know, loosen up a little.”
I smile at her. She is nervous about tonight. I guess I can’t blame her. I’m not nervous. I’m horny,
but I understand.
 “Besides, we’ll need the energy,” she adds.
Scott laughs.
Carly’s apartment isn’t very large. The dining room table is set up in the far corner of the living
room, opposite the door, and she prepares chicken and vegetables for us. We sit down and eat, making
small talk. She bought wine as well, and we all sip from long-stemmed glasses. I don’t need alcohol for
tonight, but she is drinking to loosen up.
“How are things with your sister?” I ask when we are headed toward the end of dinner.
Carly shrugs. “She’s still in a mood. They don’t usually last this long.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to fix it?” Scott asks.
“Oh, sure. She’ll come around, eventually. She’s just full of shit sometimes, but it’s been the two of
us since my dad left.”
She finishes her first glass of wine, and Scott pours her another.
I put my knife and fork together. “Your dad left?” I ask.
Carly nods. “When we were little. I was nine, Emma was seven. We’ve stuck together since then.
It’s always been the two of us. At least, it was until she started dating Ron. Now, she has someone else,
and it’s just me.”
She shrugs and smiles like it isn’t a big deal, but I get the feeling that it is.
“And you?” I ask. “No prince charming to sweep you off your feet?”
Carly laughs. “Bit late to be asking me that, now, isn’t it?”
Scott and I both chuckle. “I guess it is,” I say.
“No, there isn’t a prince charming,” I say. “Besides, if there were, I wouldn’t be able to have a
night like tonight with two handsome studs like you.”
She blushes at her own words, and it’s endearing. Just like that, the conversation moves away from
serious things and toward what the rest of the night would hold.
“If you were mine, I’d be worried,” Scott says. “Too many men will want you.”
Carly blushes again. “I already agreed to sleep with you. You don’t have to charm the pants off
me.”
I laugh. “That’s not what it’s about,” I say. “I don’t think I’d want to share you, either.”
Her eyes are full of laughter when she looks at the two of us.
“You kind of are,” she says to me. She drinks the rest of her wine a lot faster.
I look at Scott, who shrugs, and we both laugh. It’s true. We are sharing her. But with Scott, it’s
different. Scott is my main man. We are tight.
Carly gets up and starts clearing plates. Scott and I both help her by taking something from the table
to her little kitchen. She stacks dishes in the sink. Scott glances at me. I know what he is thinking. It’s time
to fuck her now. The hunger on his face is apparent. I am hard, too, my cock throbbing in my pants. I want
her, and I want her now.
 Scott is the one to make the first move. He walks to Carly and turns her toward him so that she lets
go of whatever she is holding in the sink. He cups her breast and kisses her. She gasps, and I see him
squeeze her through the white material. She melts a little, and I watch them for a moment as my friend
massages her breast. His other hand is behind her neck, holding her there as his tongue explores her
mouth.
He is taking charge. It’s what she needs.
I walk to them and stand behind her, the same way we’d been in my office during lunch yesterday. I
put my hands on her hips and grind my cock against her ass. She moans into Scott’s mouth.
“Come,” Scott says, breaking the kiss and taking her hand.
I take her other hand, and Scott leads us down the short hallway to the main bedroom at the end.
When we are in the room, Carly turns to us.
“Stay there,” she says. “No touching.”
She is confident now. The wine has loosened her up just enough, and now that lust has been thrown
into the mix, she is all sexual energy.
She reaches for the hem of her dress, crossing her arms and pulling her dress over her in one quick
motion. She drops the white material on the floor and stands in front of us, completely naked. She hasn’t
worn any underwear at all.
Carly turns around so we can see her ass. She bends over, spreading her legs, showing herself to
us.
Scott starts forward.
“Stay there,” Carly says.
I swallow hard. It looks like Scott struggles to obey, but we both stand rooted to the spot and watch
as Carly moves forward and crawls onto the bed. The crawl is deliberately slow, exposing her ass and
her pussy to us as she creeps toward the pillows.
When she reaches them, she turns around and lays down on her back. She’d gotten rid of her shoes
without me noticing.
Carly spreads her legs and looks me in the eyes before she slides her glance to Scott. I can hear my
friend breathing harder. My cock throbs in my pants, aching to be inside of her.
Carly puts her hands on her breasts and massages them, pinching her own nipples, tugging at them.
She makes small mewling sounds when she does. Scott is undoing his pants, and he pulls his cock free.
He is about as hard as I am, although a little bigger. He is taller than I am.
I turn my eyes back to Carly. Her legs are still wide and her bare pussy glistens, her arousal clear.
She tips her head back, her lips parted, and she focuses on her breasts.
I can’t help myself. I unzip my own jeans and pull my dick free, too. Scott is already running his
hand up and down his own shaft, stimulating himself. I do the same, palming my own flesh. My eyes are
on Carly’s tits, on the way she touches herself.
 Carly holds one hand on her breast and slides the other down her stomach, over her pubic mound,
her fingers pushing into her slit. She moans when her fingertips brush over her clit. Scott makes a
growling sound next to me, and I know his need is just as strong as mine.
“You’re torturing us, kitten,” Scott says in a deep voice. He is so turned on. Kitten. I forgot that’s
what he calls his women.
Carly answers him with a gasp. She pushes her fingers into her pussy, and I groan. I pump my own
hand slowly, teasing myself as much as she is teasing me.
Her fingers work faster and faster, in and out of her, her own thumb on her clit. She holds her nipple
between two fingers and squeezes, crying out. An orgasm rocks through her. I can see her body suddenly
contract, her mouth opening in a silent scream. Her eyes squeeze shut as she comes for us at her own hand.
“Holy fucking shit,” Scott bites out through gritted teeth, and he lets go of himself so he can get
undressed. He whips off his shirt, pulls down his pants, and in no time at all, he is naked.
I follow suit. I get naked, too. I am still stripping when Scott walks over to Carly. He gets onto the
bed, and Carly rises to meet him. It’s like it has been choreographed, like they both know what the other is
thinking. Scott kneels on the bed, and Carly moves around to meet his cock with her mouth.
She closes her mouth over his dick, and he groans with a long sigh. She slides her mouth over him,
and I want in, too. As if she knows, she stretches her arm toward me, palm open.
I don’t wait to be asked twice. I get onto the bed, too, and grab her hand, guiding her to my cock.
Her fingers wrap around my cock. Scott’s hand is behind her head, holding her, his cock sliding in and out
of her mouth.
A moment later, I watch the full size of him pop out, and she moves her head toward me. She
reaches for him with her other hand, pumping her hand up and down his slick shaft while her lips close
around my own cock.
I sigh the moment my dick enters her hot mouth. She sucks me, pushing her head forward so that I go
balls deep. She pushes me all the way in, past her nasal cavity, deep throating me. She isn’t breathing.
One, two, three pumps, and she pulls back far enough to gasp for air. She only takes two breaths
before she plunges me back between her lips, and I watch as her head bobs back and forth, fucking me
with her mouth.
Carly is still working Scott with her hand. I glance at him, and his face is pure bliss. She swaps
positions again, her mouth around his dick and her hand pumping mine. She is changing it up, servicing
both of us like a natural, like she has done something like this before.
Fuck. Me.
 Scott


This is happening. We are doing this. Carly’s mouth is stretched around my cock, her red lips thin
and her dark eyes turned up to look at me. One hand cups my balls, and she squeezes them just enough to
push me closer to the edge.
Her other hand is wrapped around Kevin’s cock. Kevin grunts as she jacks him off. The same
woman is doing both of us at the same time.
It won’t be long before we are both going to fuck her, and we’ll finally know for sure who’s the one
capable of making her moan the loudest. That’s only a side bet, but now it’s the only thing on my mind.
And with someone like Carly? God. She is the hottest piece of ass I’ve seen in a long time, and she
is willing to experience new things and wild enough to enjoy it. It is the perfect combination. Women like
her–drop dead gorgeous, sexy as hell and willing to break every rule of convention–are very hard to come
by.
Or come on. I smile at my own little joke.
I don’t spend more time thinking about my own wit and my ability to pull a woman like Carly. I
want to fuck her. I’ve waited long enough.
I pull her by the hair–lightly enough to not be rude about it, but demanding enough that she listens–
and her mouth slides off my cock.
“Turn around, kitten,” I say. “And on all fours.”
When she does as I ask, I put my hands on her hips. Kevin stands next to me, watching her present
her ass to me without arguing about it.
“That’s my dirty girl,” I say. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Oh, god, please,” she says in a breathy voice. “Both of you.”
I shiver and look at Kevin. His eyes are wide, pupils dilated, lips parted. He is just as turned on as
I am.
I run my hands down Carly’s slit.
“She’s so wet,” I tell Kevin.
He swallows hard. I push the tip of my cock against Carly’s entrance, and she holds her breath.
When I push into her, she lets out the breath in a long, low moan. Being inside of her is sexual bliss. Her
pussy is tight, pulling me in, and I slide in all the way to the hilt.
“You’re my little whore, baby,” I say, stroking my cock in and out of her. I move slowly, watching
my thick flesh split her body open and slide in and out, in and out. Kevin’s hand is on his cock, and he
pumps his hand up and down, keeping himself in the moment while I fuck Carly.
She moans as I move faster and faster, pumping into her. Her body rocks back and forth.
I look at Kevin. His eyes meet mine, and I nod my head toward her.
 Kevin doesn’t need much to understand what I mean. He moves around Carly so that he is at her
head, and he stands in front of her by the bed, with his cock protruding. He puts his hand under her chin
and lifts her face. Her back arches, her ass pushing toward me. I don’t stop fucking her.
“Open your mouth,” Kevin says.
Carly does what he asks, and he pushes his dick into her mouth. A muffled moan slips out of her
mouth, around his cock as Kevin starts thrusting into her. He moves slowly, at first, and I slow my own
pace right down. We slide into her slowly, going at the same rhythm. Her body rocks back and forth
between us, since she is being penetrated from both sides.
We pick up the pace, moving faster and faster. Kevin keeps his rhythm the same as mine, and we
fuck her harder and harder. Carly makes muffled, gurgling sounds around Kevin’s cock as he pushes
himself down her throat, only pulling back every few strokes to let her breathe. I fuck her from behind,
watching her ass jiggle and her body spasm. She is getting closer.
Kevin glances at me. He knows it, too. We want her to come. Her walls are starting to clamp down
around my cock, her body contracting involuntarily as we near her climax. She still makes muffled
sounds, and they are becoming louder, more pronounced.
Kevin pulls out for longer periods at a time, letting her gasp and scream as I hammer into her. He
pushes himself back into her mouth at intervals, and she almost gags. She is right on the edge. I can feel it.
Her body tightens around me, and her gasps become erratic, irregular. Kevin pulls out again, and she cries
out, her head tipped up.
I reach around her body and grab one of her breasts, massaging her. I squeeze her hard, fuck her
hard, and Kevin pushes his dick into her mouth again. It is rough, and we are having our way with her.
Judging by her cries, she is enjoying it.
She topples over the edge, and Kevin pulls back enough to let her breathe without him leaving her
mouth. She gasps and moans around the thick flesh in her mouth, her pussy clamping down around me as
she comes. She convulses around me, her body shivering in waves. Kevin slides out of her mouth to let
her enjoy the ride, and Carly drops her head. Her dark braid falls down the side of her neck, and she
breathes hard.
Her body is still going, pulsating, spasming. When she finally quiets, I pull out of her.
My cock is still thick, hard, throbbing, but we aren’t done yet.
Kevin crawls toward her on the bed and pulls her against him. She leans against him. He runs his
hand over her body, holding her against him with his other arm. His hand finds her tits, and he caresses
her, squeezing, massaging. She moans and whimpers. He takes her nipple between his fingers and rolls it.
Watching him caress her, working her up again, makes me want to be back inside of her.
I wrap my fingers around my own cock. I am slippery now with our combined sex, and my hand
slides up and down my dick.
I watch as Kevin leans forward, guiding Carly onto her back. Her thighs fall open for him, and he
positions himself between her legs. He pushes into her without ceremony, and she cries out.
Kevin doesn’t waste any time. He starts pounding into her, fucking her hard. She cries out, her
breath forced from her lungs with every stroke by his weight on top of her. His face is right above hers, so
close they can kiss, but he doesn’t kiss her. He braces himself with his elbows on both sides of her head
and slides his cock in and out of her.
She gasps and moans. I stroke my cock, watching them get it on. Kevin has a different way of
fucking than I do–his is more sensual, rather than straight up fucking. We make a good team.
He looks up just as I thought it. A smile plays on his lips. He is loving this just as much as I am.
Kevin pushes his hands into Carly’s hair and closes his fist, gripping her. She gasps. He tips her
head back, exposing the clean line of her neck. Kevin dips his head and puts his mouth in her neck. He
nips the skin with his teeth, just enough to make her squirm, before he closes his lips on her skin and
sucks. He doesn’t spend too much time on one spot. If he did, he would leave marks on her pristine skin,
and that would be hard to explain away in the office.
Lust chokes me. I want to be inside of her so badly. But Kevin had let me fuck her for a while
without interfering, and I would do the same. I would give him as much time as I am able before I take her
mouth.
I want her to suck on my cock, and I want her lips around me again.
Kevin pulls his legs up and maneuvers himself so that he sits on his knees. He wraps his arms
around Carly’s legs and lifts her off the bed so that his dick is still inside her. I move to the side of the bed
and take her by the arms, turning her so that her head hangs over the edge of the bed. Kevin turns with me,
keeping himself inside her.
He holds onto her thighs, using them to pull her onto his cock, moving his hips, fucking her. She
gasps and moans. Her braid is long. I kneel at her head and pull out the hairband. I undo the braid with my
fingers, and her long, dark hair spills into a waterfall from her head, hanging off the side of the bed to the
carpet.
I straighten up. Her bed is high and kneeling won’t do.
Her breasts are pushed up with the arch of her back, moving back and forth as Kevin fucks her, her
nipples tight.
“Open your mouth, kitten,” I say.
Her eyes focus on my cock, hard and close to her mouth. I push the tip of my cock against her lips,
and she does as I asked, sucking me in. I don’t push in all the way, even though I desperately want to.
Instead, I let her suck in as much as she is willing to. For now.
She sucks about half my cock into her mouth, and I pull back, sliding out again. Her body rocks
back and forth with Kevin’s motion, and I let it push her body against me, and push her mouth farther and
farther onto my cock.
Kevin picks up the pace, fucking her harder. Her tits move back and forth. I put my hands on them
and fuck her mouth as Kevin fucks her pussy.
She makes the same muffled, strangled sounds that she made with Kevin’s dick in her mouth. She
stretches her arms up and wraps them around my hips, holding onto my ass, pulling my dick farther into
her mouth.
She is at our mercy, stretched between the two of us, rocked back and forth by our rhythm. By the
way she pulls me into her, I can tell she enjoys it. She wants more. I have plenty more to give her.
Her moans and groans become louder and louder again. She is headed toward another orgasm. That
will be her third for the night. I love when women did the multiple orgasm thing.
I take her nipples between my fingers and tweak and roll them, pinching, tugging. She gasps even
louder. I pull out of her mouth to allow her a break, and she breathes hard. Kevin doesn’t let up. He keeps
fucking her. He knows that she is getting closer, and that it would fade if she stops now.
It doesn’t take long before she topples over the edge again. She cries out, her nails digging into my
ass. Her body shudders, and I watch as she convulses on the bed between us. It takes her breath away
before she breathes erratically. Kevin moves in and out of her slowly, drawing the orgasm out without
distracting her from the ecstasy she is feeling. I stare at her body, taking it all in.
God, the things I want to do to her.
When Carly calms down, Kevin pulls out of her. She whimpers lightly when he does. When she is
free of both cocks, she rolls onto her side. Kevin lays down next to her. I crawl onto the bed and lay down
on her other side. I reach for her face, turning her head to face me. Then I cup her cheek and kiss her.
 Carly


I lay sandwiched between the two men, recovering from the third orgasm. It had been intense, and I
need to catch my breath.
The two men lay on either side of me, their bodies pressed against me. They run their hands over
my body, touching me, caressing me. Kevin lays in front of me. Scott is behind me. Kevin’s hands are on
my ass and my pussy, stroking. Scott’s hands come from behind me, and he massages my breasts. It is
gentle and erotic, like a massage, and it relaxes me.
Kevin’s hands slowly push between my legs, his fingers working their way into my slit. His
fingertips flick over my clit, and I jerk every time they do. I am still sensitive after my orgasms. The
attention the men paid me awakens my body again after the gentle massaging and the orgasms. I want
more.
I kiss Kevin after Scott kisses me. His tongue pushes between my lips, and he kisses me, tastes me.
I wonder if he can taste Scott in my mouth, and I wonder if he cares.
I push against Kevin’s shoulder, and he rolls onto his back. I get on top of him and straddle him. His
cock is still thick and hard. I reach for it with my hand, hold it up, and sit down on him.
Kevin and I groan at the same time as he slides into me. He was big, bigger from this angle. I move
my hips, getting used to him before I start riding him. I buck my hips back and forth, sliding his cock in
and out of me.
Scott doesn’t stay on the bed without us for long. He moves behind me, straddling Kevin’s legs,
too. His cock presses against my ass cheeks and lower back. He presses himself against me as tightly as
he can.
His hands move around to my breasts, and he cups them, squeezing them, massaging them. He
pinches my nipples between his fingers, just enough not to hurt, and rolls them. I gasp. Kevin’s cock is
large inside of me, pushing deep enough into me to rearrange my organs. And Scott’s hands on my breasts
make it hard for me to concentrate on anything other than the feel of sexual bliss.
I move my hips back and forth, riding Kevin. He looks up at me, and his face is riddled with
pleasure. I see him glance over my shoulder at Scott, who presses his lips against my shoulder. Together,
they work me up into a frenzy.
Deep at my core, my muscles clench. An orgasm is building again–number four–but it will take a
while before I topple over the edge again. Every time, it takes longer to get me to lose control. Although
with both men giving me all their attention, that last fact is up for debate.
Scott lets go of my breasts and moves his hands to my shoulders where his mouth had been. He
massages my shoulders, squeezing hard. The massage is erotic because I am fucking someone, but calming
nevertheless.
 Scott moves his hands down my back, pushing me gently forward. I bend over Kevin’s body, my
breasts close to his chest, his eyes on mine. I kiss him as Scott works his way down my back. When Scott
cups my ass cheeks, massaging them too, I shiver.
He squeezes and massages my ass, pulling my cheeks open, helping with my rhythm on top of
Kevin.
Scott leans away from me for a moment, the bed shifting with his weight. I hear the cap of
something pull off, and a moment later, Scott’s hand slides in between my ass cheeks with a cold gel on
his fingertips. I gasp, curling my body, but his fingers slide down, and he presses against my anus. I tense
for just a moment before an erotic wave washes over me.
Scott works his fingers over my ass, rubbing, prodding lightly, getting the nerves that unfurl another
wave of lust inside of me like it has been dormant, like we’d only been touching the tip of the iceberg. I
gasp. Kevin has his hands on my hips, and he is moving his own hips, sliding in and out of me. I don’t
have what it takes to keep riding him. Scott is working magic on me because my body is going numb, and
it is becoming harder and harder to think about anything other than the overpowering sex that ripples
through my body in waves.
Scott pushes a finger into my ass, and I cry out. I’ve done anal before, but it always takes careful
preparation. Scott has clearly done it before, too, and he works himself into me, taking his time.
He pushes one finger into me, going in as deep as he can, sliding in and out. I gasp and moan.
Before long, he pushes another finger into me. I feel fuller and fuller as he pushes more fingers into me,
stretching me, preparing me, while Kevin still slides in and out of me.
Scott pulls his fingers out of me, and I gasp, feeling open after he worked his fingers in and out of
me. I start pushing up on Kevin’s chest, but Scott pushes me down again. He gets behind me, and I feel his
dick at my anus instead of his fingers. I shiver, trying to prepare myself.
He pushes into me, sliding in tightly, inch by tight inch. His cock splits me open, my ass squeezing
around him so tight. He is so big–bigger than he ever felt inside my pussy–and I cry out as he slides home.
Scott’s cock is nestled deep in my ass when I finally take another breath, right up against Kevin’s
cock. Neither of them move. They let me adjust to the feeling of having each of them in one of my holes. I
shiver, trying to move a little with both inside me. I am so full I can barely contain it.
Scott is the first to start moving, fucking me. I cry out as his cock slides in and out of my ass. Kevin
holds still, letting me feel Scott for a few strokes, before he starts moving, too.
When Kevin rocks his hips, fucking me from beneath, I collapse on his chest. It is too much for me
to handle and still concentrate on keeping myself up. I am pinned between the two bodies, two dicks
inside me, and they start fucking me, moving against each other. When Kevin pulls back, Scott pushes
deeper, until Kevin slides back in and Scott pulls out.
I close my eyes and give myself over to the feeling. I can’t even try. I am lost in the sensation of
being penetrated from two angles.
 They ride me together, and I lose track of time. My body is pulled apart by an overload of sex.
Scott pulls out first, and I gasp, gaping, empty after I was so full.
“My turn,” he says in a voice so low that he growled.
He helps me lift myself, and Kevin slips out of me. I gasp again. I’m so empty now.
Together, they help me turn around. I am spent, my body not functioning right when I want to lift
myself. They turn me around so that I have my back turned toward Kevin. Scott holds me up like I weigh
nothing, and Kevin positions himself so I slide onto his cock with my ass when Scott lowers me.
I cry out when he penetrates me, slipping into me easier than Scott because I am already prepared,
open, wet with lube and Scott’s sex.
When I sit on Kevin, I shudder, the feeling of him in my ass so different than sex, still. He moves a
little, and I gasp and moan.
Scott doesn’t waste much time. He kisses me, crawling into me and Kevin. His dick finds my
entrance, and he pushes into me in one stroke. I cry out, and Kevin groans as Scott’s cock slides home
inside of me. I am sandwiched between them yet again, with Kevin’s dick in my ass and Scott’s in my
pussy.
They start their rhythm again, moving in and out, countering each other. At this angle, with Kevin
beneath me and Scott on top of both off us, both dicks rubbing against each other and against me, an
orgasm starts growing.
It starts deep at my core. I am completely helpless, unable to move much or do anything other than
cry out with every thrust. The men are fully in control, using me, pushing me to my limits. I love it.
It brings me closer to the edge, faster. They fuck me, and I cry out and moan. Scott picks up the
pace, pumping into me harder still. His fucking creates my movement on Kevin’s cock. Scott strokes my
G-spot again and again, and I shudder and convulse, creeping closer and closer to orgasm.
Kevin reaches around and grabs my breasts, pinching and tugging. The pain bursts into pleasure,
and I scream as the orgasm shatters through me. My body contracts, forcing the air out of my lungs.
Sandwiched between the two men, I fall apart.
It doesn’t take long before Kevin groans and jerks inside of me. He grabs my hips and shoves
himself into my ass as deep as he can go. I am still orgasming, and his grip on my hips, his cock so deep
inside me, brings me again and again. Scott does the same, shoving himself into me. They are both so deep
I struggle to breathe, struggle to move, struggle to do anything but moan and cry out.
Scott comes inside of me, pulsating, emptying himself inside of me while Kevin fills up my ass. My
orgasm crashes over me, one wave after the other, until I feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, my
body on fire with all the sex, the dicks buried inside of me.
The men breathe hard. I am a sweaty mess, slick where we lay skin on skin.
Finally, Scott pulls out of me, already going soft. He helps me off Kevin, who slid out of me, too,
and I collapse on the bed. I am spent. My whole body feels like it is made of jelly. Kevin rolls onto his
side, spooning me, his knees pulled up behind mine. Scott lays down in front of me, facing me. He pushes
one leg between mine so that we touch and his face is close enough to kiss.
He presses his lips against my forehead in a strangely intimate way before I close my eyes.
“That’s my baby girl,” Scott says in a low voice. His hand trails over my breasts, touching, feeling.
He is gentle about it, and it is soothing after so much was taken out of me. Kevin caresses me, his hand
tracing the contours of my body.
Sex is always messy, and the result of their orgasms inside me began to leak out of me. My ass and
my pussy are both slick with sex, but we lay together, none of us moving.
I start drifting off. I become vaguely aware of someone pulling a blanket over us. Much later,
weight shifts on the bed, and I am under the impression the men are getting up. I am aware of them moving
around the room, but I keep my eyes closed.
They leave the apartment quietly. I hear the front door click, and I realize I am alone. I don’t mind.
My eyes are closed, keeping myself wrapped in darkness. I focus on my body, on the echo of both cocks
in my body.
God, what a ride.
 Kevin


The contrast between real life and all the things we do behind closed doors gets bigger and bigger
the more I slip into my fantasies. Fucking Carly with Scott has been more than a dream come true and the
image of her, naked, her mouth around his cock and her pussy clamping down on mine, keeps me
perpetually turned on. Or that shit where we double penetrated her, Scott in her ass while I am buried
deep inside of her.
The images of that night are enough material for me to get myself off to for a long time, if I must. Of
course, with someone like Carly around I won’t need something like that anytime soon. I can just fuck her
when I feel like it. God knows she’s willing and she’s a hell of a lot more satisfying than my own palm.
Speak of the devil, Carly knocks on my door and pops her head into my office, attractive as always.
I’m just starting a slow descent with my eyes all over her body when she speaks.
“Mr. Hull wants to see you,” she says.
I snap my eyes back up to her, her body forgotten.
“Now?” I ask.
“He says it’s urgent.”
I sigh. If Hull says it’s urgent it’s not something I want to deal with right now. And that’s exactly
why I will have to do it. The man’s money is a great backing – I need the funding to bring the company
onto the level I want it. But God, it comes at a great cost. As it is, he’s basically in charge of the whole
board.
“Where does he want to see me?” I ask.
“Anywhere,” she says. “He’s in the waiting area right now.”
The man doesn’t fuck around. I nod.
“You can send him in here, I’ll speak to him.”
Carly nods and disappears. A moment later, Franklin Hull walks into my office. He’s dressed in a
light gray three-piece suit and his hair is slicked back. His presence spills into the room until I feel like
there’s no space for me. He’s in a bad mood.
“Please, sit down, Mr. Hull,” I say, gesturing to the chair opposite me.
Hull sits down with the air of a man that owns everything. He’s confident and overpowering and I
feel smaller than him in my own office. I don’t like it.
“What’s on your mind, Franklin?” I ask.
“I’m going to come straight out and say it, Kevin,” he says. “I heard a rumor that you’re sleeping
with your secretary.”
I blink at Hull. He looks at me, face serious, stare unwavering. I must fight the urge to look away, to
squirm. Instead, I look right back at him.
 “Where did you hear it?” I ask. I sound a lot calmer than I feel. Point for me.
“It is an anonymous tip. That makes me think the source might be correct.”
My stomach turns to stone. My blood is cold and I struggle to think past the sound of blood rushing
in my ears.
“So, you come to me to ask if it’s true?” I ask.
“Is it?” Hull shoot back at me.
His stare is like steel. I swallow, trying not to look like I’m panicking.
“Of course, not,” I say. “This is a professional operation, Franklin. You wouldn’t have chosen to
invest in it if it isn’t.”
Hull looks at me with a face that’s void of emotion. I have no idea if he believes me or not.
“You realize how quickly I can withdraw,” he says.
I nod. “And I can assure you that won’t be necessary. I will launch an investigation into the
allegations. Of course, we can’t have these rumors doing the rounds, even if they’re false. I’ll make sure
it’s all straightened out as soon as possible.”
Hull doesn’t look satisfied, yet.
“Let me be honest with you, Franklin. Everyone in the office can see that Miss Brown and I have a
good working relationship. We get along and that is exactly what I need in a personal assistant. But she is
a personal assistant and no more. I assure you, I’ll get to the bottom of this and in no time at all, we’ll
look back and laugh at this.”
Hull blinks at me. He doesn’t look like the type to laugh at anything in hindsight.
“See that you take care of it, Kevin,” Hull says, standing up. “It can become very nasty if it goes
any further.
“Of course,” I say, standing too. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
I watch Hull walk to the door, open it and walk out. The moment he turns the corner out of sight I let
out a breath I don’t realize I is been holding.
How the fuck did it come out? God, I think Hull is going to withdraw right then and there. I can’t
afford losing the funding. The company is hanging by a thread and without Hull and his money I’m going
to fold. It’s the only reason I put up with his antics. I don’t care for the way he considers himself to be
God’s gift to mankind.
I turn to my window and look out over New York. How the hell am I going to reign this in? Surely,
Scott and Carly don’t talk about what they are doing? They know as well as I do that it will sabotage
everything we do and everything we have.
I turn around and pick up the receiver, calling Carly.
“Will you come to my office? I’m getting Scott in, too.”
She agrees and a moment later I have Scott on the line, too.
Five minutes later they are both in my office. Scott closes the door behind him, the last to arrive,
and they both look at me. How different this is from the last time we are in the same room together. We are
naked, worked up and completely comfortable with each other, then. Now, I am unsure of where we stand,
of the relationship we’re building.
“Franklin Hull is just in my office.” I say to Scott, filling him in. “He wants to see me for an
emergency meeting.”
“What about?” Scott asks.
“He got an anonymous tip that Carly and I are sleeping together.”
Carly gasps. Scott’s eyes widen.
“What the hell?” Scott asks, putting his hands on his hips. “Where the fuck did that come from?”
When I look at Carly she looks pale.
“Just that you two are fucking?” Scott adds. “Not the three of us?”
I shake my head. “Thank God, no. I think he will has withdrawn if that is the case.”
“He didn’t withdraw?” Scott asks.
I shake my head again. “He didn’t, but he’s unhappy, and I don’t blame him. Did either of you say
anything to anyone?”
Scott shakes his head. Carly did, too, but then she stopped.
“I spoke to Emma about it,” she says.
I blink at her. “You told your sister you are sleeping with your boss?”
She shrugs and folds her arms over her chest, looking defensive. “We tell each other everything.”
Now, I understand why Emma is so unhappy at the club when the four of us are together on the
dance floor.
“And you don’t think she may have said something out of spite?”
Carly shakes her head. “No,” she says firmly. “We get stuck and she can be a bitch, but she
wouldn’t do that to me.”
Scott and I both look at her. I wait for her to show she might be unsure, but she looks as certain as it
gets.
“Okay,” I finally say. “I hope you’re right. If this goes wrong, we all stand to lose a lot.”
Carly nods. “I understand.”
I nod, Scott nods. We are all in agreement. Except, I don’t trust it. Emma doesn’t look like the type
of person that will be loyal. She wasn’t exactly nice at the club that night. Sure, I don’t know her at all, so
I don’t know how capable or how loyal she is, but I don’t trust her.
It seems perfect for a scorned sister to call in a juicy little fact like that.
“I’ll speak to her, if that will make you feel better,” Carly says, pulling me out of my thinks. “I’ll
find out if she said anything.”
“Do you think she’ll just tell you, if she did?” Scott asks. He was very quiet until now. He isn’t
quite as involved, considering the rumors only involve the two of us. But if whoever leaked the
information knows more, he can be implicated as well. That will be very bad for all of us.
Forget about the VP bet. If this thing goes sideways, we’ll all become unemployed soon enough.
Carly glares at Scott. She is on the defense. It is a touchy topic and I am aware we sound accusing,
but the fact is that we are in trouble and I’m stressing because the rumors are true.
“I’ll find out if she said something. I know Emma well enough to be able to tell if she’s lying or not,
you know.”
“We’re just worried,” Scott says.
Carly sighs and nods. “I know,” she says. “It’s just… nothing like this has ever happened to me
before.”
I nod, too. “Well, we’re all doing what we can. As soon as we get to the bottom of this we can sort
it out.”
Scott sits down, the first sign that we are starting to relax. I sit down behind my desk, too.
“Talking about sex and forbidden things,” Scott says. “When are the three of us arranging another
play date?”
Carly giggles and blushes. It’s cute when she does. I love it when she blushes.
“Should we really talk about this right now?” I ask. “We’re already in the shitter.”
“Come on,” Scott says. “You know you want to do it again. Wednesday was fucking fantastic.”
Carly grows redder and Scott looks damn satisfied with himself. And I want to do it again, Scott is
right.
“We’ll arrange something, soon,” Carly says. “I’m down for round two.”
Scott grins at me. We completed our pact by fucking Carly together. Doing it again is a whole
different story. This isn’t about doing something we said we would do anymore. This just becomes so
much more.
And I want it. I liked it. God, I fucking loved it.
“I have to get back to work,” Carly says. “I have an actual job to do.”
She smiles at both of us before she leaves the office. When she closes the door, I look at Scott. He
is still smiling, looking smug and content.
“You have to admit, this is a hell of a lot more than either of us think we’d get when we set out to
do this,” he says.
I nod. “Absolutely. I’m just unsure about this rumor… you don’t think that if we keep going it will
bite us in the ass?”
Scott shakes his head. “Don’t stress about it so much,” he says. “It’s probably a rumor created by a
disgruntled employee or something. The fact that it’s true is a coincidence. It will blow over and we can
happily carry on fucking her without worrying about who will find out.”
I chuckle. “You’ve really got a thing for this, don’t you?”
“What, a threesome with my best friend and the hottest woman that’s walks the face of the earth?
That will be a resounding fuck, yeah.”
I laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s a wet dream come true. I’m just stressing about this.”
Scott nods. “I know. Which is what makes you so good for this job. But it will be okay, I swear.”
It seems like a promise Scott is in no position to make, but I accept it and let him persuade me. I
need to believe that it will be okay. And the truth is, I want to do another threesome, too.
Of all the reasons, I can think of why not to do it, I can only think of one reason why we should do
it.
And that is because I want to. Good enough for me.
 Carly


“Do you want something to drink?” I ask Emma when she sits down on my couch.
“Just water,” she says. I nod and walks to the kitchen. I fill two glasses with water from the pitcher
in the fridge. I walk back to the living room with both glasses. Emma sits on the edge of the couch,
looking like she would rather be anywhere but here. I sigh and pass her glass to her before sitting down
on the arm chair to the side.
I invited her over to talk. She won’t reach out to me, so I must do it. Usually, Emma is so quick to
sort things out between us. That she hasn’t tried yet, worries me.
“What did you want to talk about?” Emma asks.
I blink at her. “I was hoping we can fix whatever went wrong between us.”
Emma just looks at me, her face unreadable.
“Come on, Em. We never fight for this long. Why are you so angry?”
Emma sips the cold water before shaking her head.
“You can’t tell people that I’m jealous of you and expect me not to get angry. Especially if it’s your
boss, the same guy you’re fucking.”
I sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was a bitch.”
Emma nods. I don’t completely mean what I is saying – Emma was the bitch that night, not me, but
we all must bend a little, right?
“Besides, you’re throwing your life away, Carly. What do you think will happen if something like
this comes out? It can ruin your career. Sleeping with your boss…”
I shake my head. “If you’re worried, say so. You’re my sister and we do that for each other. But I’m
an adult, I can make my own choices. And I told you before – I don’t intend to be a secretary for long.”
Emma narrows her eyes at me. “This is exactly what I mean,” she says. “You’re not even willing to
listen. You dream, and you dream! But it’s always the same thing, over and over again. God, you never
listen!”
“That’s because I don’t have to,” I snap. “Not only am I older than you, but I don’t have to do what
you say to me, anyway. You’re not mom.
Emma shrugs. “No, but at least I’m not throwing my life away.”
I put my glass on the coffee table. I don’t drink any of the water.
“That’s a matter of opinion and I resent you saying that.” I glare at Emma and she glares back at me.
“I called you to fix things between us and you’re just going right back onto that track. Why don’t you try,
too?”
“Are you still sleeping with him?” Emma asks.
I frown. “You’re going to be a bitch about this unless I stop screwing him?”
 “So, you are,” she says.
I roll my eyes. “I regret telling you that. I can’t believe this is becoming such a big thing! We’ve
always told each other everything. Did I come down hard on you when you were sleeping with Ron?” I
ask.
“That’s different,” she says.
“How?”
“We’re in a long-term relationship. We don’t sleep together until six months in, and most of all, he’s
not my boss.”
I groan. “What happened to us?” I ask.
Emma shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says in a soft voice.
I have my theories. She’s settling down and she’s dating – something neither of us said we’d do
after our dad left. And now, I’m living the life, partying and sleeping around, and she’s stuck being an
adult. I’m sure it’s jealousy, but I’m not going to say that to her, again. Once already caused her not to
speak to me for a few days.
“Look,” I say. “I wanted to ask you something.”
Emma looks at me, curious.
“Someone gave the investors at Raven Publishers an anonymous tip that Kevin and I are sleeping
together. Was it you?”
Emma’s jaw drops. “You’re asking if I betrayed you?”
“It sounds worse when you say it like that,” I say. “But yes, I am.”
Emma looks shocked for a moment before it translates into anger.
“Do you think I’d do that to you?”
I shrug. “I’m just asking,” I say. “You’re the only person I told so I need to follow up because it’s a
matter of losing my job or Kevin losing the company.”
Emma is angry, now. “You think I’d do that to you?” she asks again. This time, her voice is raised.
“I knew we aren’t in a good place, Carly, but to think that I will do that to you?”
She groans as if it hurts.
“I just have to check, Em,” I say. “I said I would ask.”
She glares at me. “This is why I’m so against all the shit that you do. It changes you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re fighting against everything that happened with mom so much you can’t even be yourself.
You think that if you stay as wild and reckless as you are, you won’t get hurt, but you’re wrong. You’re
hurting yourself.”
I shake my head. This has gone in a completely different direction.
“That’s not fair,” I say. “Just because I don’t deal with things the way you do, and I haven’t found
love and I want to settle down doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
 We glare at each other for what feels like forever. Finally, Emma blows out a breath and looks
down.
“You’re right,” she says. “I’m sorry.”
I’m surprised by her apology. It comes so quickly.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” I say. “Can’t we just forget about all of this and be friends again?”
Emma nods. “I’d like that.”
I get up and walk to her, hugging her. She lets out her breath in a shudder.
“Are you seeing Ron tonight?” I ask.
Emma shakes her head. “He’s away at some conference again. I’m just alone tonight.”
“We’ll go out, then,” I say. “Just to hang out, catch up, be together again.”
Emma hesitates.
“Come on,” I say. “It will be fun.”
Finally, she agrees and I smile. She gets in her car to go home, get some clothes and come back to
me to get ready together.
We go to Aqua again. The club has a whole new meaning to me after what Scott and I did in the
storage room. I try not to think about it too much – Emma is with me and we are just getting to a good
place again. I’m not going to tell her about me and Scott or about having a threesome with them both.
Emma is already upset about what’s going on between Kevin and me.
We have shots at the bar, getting drinks to chase them down with and move to the dance floor. I love
dancing when alcohol courses through my veins. I always feel sexier, when I drink, more comfortable in
my own skin. I move to the music and it pulses through me. Emma dances next to me. I’m aware of eyes on
us and when I look around, men are sneaking glances at us.
“They’re all looking at us,” I say to Emma, leaning in so that she can hear me.
Emma shakes her head. She looks a little sour. “They’re all looking at you,” she says.
I sigh. I don’t know if she’s right, I don’t really pay that much attention, but Emma is pissed off
again and I don’t like her in this mood. She seems to be in this mood more often.
“Come on, Em, it’s not just me,” I say.
Emma stops dancing. “I don’t care, you know. I have Ron and that’s more than enough for me.”
I stop dancing too. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Let’s just have fun, okay?”
Emma nods and we start dancing again, but she looks unhappy and I don’t know how to restore her
mood.
“Well, aren’t these the two most beautiful women I’ve seen in the club,” someone says behind me
and when I turn, Scott stands behind me, beaming. I smile – I can’t help it.
“Scott,” I say and hug him. His arms close around me and I’m aware of his body, taut and muscular
and the smell of his cologne that clings to his clothes. I shiver. This smell, the feel of this body, hold very
intimate memories for me, now.
 “You remember my sister, Emma,” I say, turning around to include her. She offers a pinched smile.
“I do,” Scott says. “And might I add you both look spectacular.”
Emma doesn’t respond to the compliment the way I did. She doesn’t look happy.
“Where’s Kevin?” I ask. I catch Emma rolling her eyes. I can’t take it back, now.
“He’s at the bar,” Scott says. Kevin comes up behind him as he says it and I smile at him, too.
“Speak of the devil,” Scott says.
“In the flesh,” Kevin says and winks at me. “And Emma,” he adds, looking at my sister. “How nice
to see you again.”
Emma doesn’t even offer Kevin a smile the way she offered Scott a bad one. She doesn’t like
Kevin and her dislike is rooted in nothing other than the fact that she thinks it’s wrong that I’m sleeping
with him.
“Well, don’t you just look stunning,” Kevin says, putting his hand on my lower back. “Are you here
to show yourself off? Everyone’s watching.”
I shrug, blushing.
“Em and I are just spending a bit of time together, you know, checking out the talent around here.”
Kevin glances at Emma, grinning. “And? What have you seen so far?”
“Oh, nothing that catches my eye,” I say. I look Kevin up and down before glancing at Scott. He’s
looking at my body, his eyes trailing down slowly, touching me in intimate places.
“Carly hasn’t seen anything because there isn’t anyone here for her,” Emma says. We all look at her.
“Em, we’re just joking around,” I say. Emma is being a real pain.
She shakes her head. “No, you’re flirting with them and I don’t care for it. I’m not going to stand
here watching you make a fool out of yourself.”
She turns and leaves before I can say something. I groan, tipping my head back.
“I don’t know what’s up with her, lately,” I say to the boys.
I’m sure she is jealous. She only gets upset when I’m around men. Okay, when I’m around two
particular guys. But she said a lot of things at my apartment, too.
“Come on, dance with us,” Kevin says. He pulls me closer to him, pressing himself against me. I
want to, God knows, I want to. But I shake my head.
“I have to find her. I can’t leave it like this again. Besides, the last time this happened we got into
all sorts of trouble.”
I look at Scott when I say it and I can see by the way he looks at me that he remembers. He pulls me
closer to him and nuzzles my neck, grinding himself against me. I gasp.
“I want to see you soon, okay?” he says. “We both do.”
When he lets me go I’m out of breath and my body is on fire. If they take me somewhere to fuck me
now, I will be ready.
“We’ll arrange something,” I say and my voice is breathy. I look at Kevin who has hungry eyes, too.
He pulls me into a hug that is equally intimate and kisses me. It’s a quick kiss, his tongue darting into my
mouth. I’m melting into my panties by the time the two of them are done with me.
“I really have to go,” I say and walk away from them without looking back. If I don’t, I’ll stay, and I
must fix things with Emma before they get me to unravel again.
I search for Emma everywhere. She isn’t on the dance floor or drinking at any of the bars. I look in
the ladies’ rooms as well. When I can’t find her anywhere I stand at the bar. I don’t order another drink. I
want to wait until I find her. When I try to call her, she doesn’t answer her phone and she doesn’t respond
to texts, either.
After an hour, I call it quits. The bitch must have left without me. I think about finding the boys
again, but I’m not in the mood. I’m pissed off and tired. So, instead, I go home.
 Kevin


Everything about Carly is intoxicating. Whether she is at the club dressed for the kill and oh-so-
fuckable, or whether she’s in the office wearing appropriate clothes, everything about her is delicious.
Seeing her at the club made me hot for her. Just thinking about her, how she feels when she is on my
cock, with her pussy or her tight ass… I shiver when I think about it.
And Scott is just as taken with her. He got a boner the moment he saw her. And I don’t blame him.
A tiny part of me wants her all to myself but the threesome was so fucking hot I don’t mind at all where
we stand, now. Scott and I are so close, too, it’s a different game altogether.
My phone rings and I answer, ready for the conference call with Franklin Hull and three of the other
investors. We agreed on these once a month to keep up to date with what’s happening. It’s our first call.
What a way to kick off our working relationship – with a threat about withdrawing already in the mix and
tips about my fucking my secretary.
“Kevin,” Hull’s voice sounds loud over the phone. He sounds serious, but then, he always does. “I
don’t like the way we’re starting this off.”
“What do you mean, Franklin?” I ask. He’s probably referring to the anonymous tip he got. “I’ve
taken steps to…”
“We’ve been threatened with a sex tape,” he says, cutting me off. My blood drains from my face
and I’m grateful he can’t see me. I swallow.
“A sex tape?” I ask. My voice sounds a lot less panicked than I feel. Point for me.
“A sex tape, with you and that secretary of yours. They’re threatening to leak it.
“Under what circumstances?” I ask. Is this some kind of ransom situation?
“No matter,” another investor, Bill Hayes, says. “This looks bad for us. How can we pump money
into a business that has such bad publicity following it around?”
My stomach turns to stone. I can’t lose the funding. This is bad news. Terrible news.
“I’m sure it’s just a stunt for attention,” I say. “Naturally, I’ll do everything I can to get to the bottom
of this.”
“You do that,” Hull says. “Our patience is running thin. I don’t need to tell you that image is
everything, Meyers.”
Meyers, not Kevin. I’m in deep shit.
They end the call. As soon as I’m off the line, I groan. What the hell is going on here? I’m pretty
sure this is personal. Carly’s sister is my first suspect if I must think about it, but blaming the woman when
I hardly know her is just as unfair as her doing something like this to me.
I take a deep breath and try to calm down. I’m starting to panic, now. Verbal accusations about
sexual encounters aren’t nearly as threatening as an actual sex tape being leaked. A tape suggests evidence
that is impossible to lie about.
I dial Scott’s number and he answers on the second ring.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“I just got off the phone with the investors. Hull says there’s a tape.”
“What?”
“A sex tape, Scott. They’re threatening the investors, telling them they’ll leak it.”
Scott is quiet for a while.
“Are you there?” I ask.
“How the fuck?” he asks.
I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “Whatever it is, I have to get to the bottom of this. If it
comes out and it’s real, it’s not only our careers but our personal lives, too.”
Scott continues swearing, letting out a line of colorful words. I wait for him to get through them all.
“How are we going to get to the bottom of this? I can only think of one person that might be behind
this.”
“Carly’s sister,” I say. “I thought of that, too.”
“So? What are we going to do about it?”
I sigh. “I don’t know. I’m not going to confront Carly about this – it won’t be fair because it’s not
her fault – but she should know. And if this goes any further we might have to cut things off with her.”
“No,” Scott says right away, so quick that I frown.
“Forget about the bet, Scott,” I say. “And it’s just sex,” I continue, even though I know it’s not
entirely true.
He hesitates before he says, “it’s just as detrimental to her image as to ours, we should rather try to
fix it.”
The hesitation made me think that he thought something else, first. I’m not going to ask. He is right,
of course. This will affect all of us and I don’t know if we will be able to bounce back from it. Carly
might be able to – a PA isn’t in the same circles as we are. But she wants more than just being a PA – how
can I crush these dreams of her? Of course, Scott and I… I will fall the hardest of all, of course.
The rest of the day’s work is slow. I struggle to concentrate and I get very little done. By the time I
finally finish, it is after nine. Everyone else has left. The office is dark and quiet and I’m the only one
locking up to leave. I glance at Carly’s desk when I walk passed. She is a good PA, no matter what we do
behind closed doors. She doesn’t deserve to fall from grace like this because I was set on fucking her. She
deserves so much more and I want to see her succeed.
My heart is heavy when I make my way down to my car. I put it in gear and pull out of my parking
spot. When I come to the intersection, I take a left instead of a right and drive to Carly’s apartment.
The light is on when I look up at her window. When I knock on the door she opens it, dressed in
shorts that look like she’s ready for bed and a t-shirt with Daisy Duck on it. Her hair hangs loose around
her shoulders and she’s not wearing makeup at all.
“Kevin,” she says, surprised. She steps to the side so I can walk into the apartment. “Is everything
okay?”
I shake my head and sit down on the couch. Carly comes to sit next to me. I notice her legs – long
and slender and smooth. I want to reach out and touch her, feel her skin beneath my fingertips. But I’m not
here for that and I will get distracted if I do.
“I had a call from the investors today,” I say. “The conference call.”
She nods.
“They have a sex tape.”
Carly blinks at me, confused.
“Of us?” she asks.
I nod and watched as she makes the connections by herself. Her face changes from confused to
shocked to panicked.
“Oh, my God, Kevin. Is it real?”
I sigh and scrub my face with my hands. “I don’t know. We can’t afford to ignore it.”
Carly nods. We sit in silence for a while. When I glance her, she’s staring at the carpet, chewing her
lower lip. She’s nervous.
“I don’t know what do. We must figure out what’s going on, if any of this is true. It can be that
someone is just looking for attention but this time it’s a bit close to home.”
Carly nods. “It’s not as simple as the anonymous phone call. This can be… real.”
I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. She’s right. It can be real.
“And if it is,” she continues. “We’re in big trouble.”
I nod again. I feel down about it. I don’t know what I can do to stop it. I’ve been stressing about it
so much all day, it’s hard to think about anything other than the mess we’re in.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Carly says. She sounds more determined than shocked, which is more
than I can say for myself. She looks at me and her eyes are drowning deep. “I won’t let this happen. I
won’t let you go under.”
I smile at her and raise my hand to her cheek. Her skin is soft, like the skin of a rose, and her eyes
are serious.
“You’re so caring,” I say.
She shrugs. “I know what it means to you. And this thing, the accusations and the alleged tape… it’s
wrong. It’s just wrong to bring someone down that way. I want to do some digging, get to the bottom of it.”
Her eyes bore into mine, her face beautiful when she’s this passionate, this determined. I lean
forward and press my lips against hers. Her lips are soft. She kisses me back, our lips careful on each
other. When I push my tongue into her mouth she opens for me and I explore her mouth, tasting her. I pull
her against me and she sighs against my lips.
 Desire unfurls inside me, but it’s warm and gentle, very unlike the savage hunger that I’ve felt with
her before.
Scott flashes in my mind’s eye. What will he think of this? What will I think if he’s the one doing
this?
I break the kiss and pull back. I’m already hard in my pants and when Carly looks at me, her brown
eyes are dilated. She feels it, too. She wants me like I want her. But I’m not going to do this. I clear my
throat.
“I have to get going,” I say.
“You can stay,” she says softly.
I almost agree, but I shake my head instead.
“I’m sorry, princess. Not tonight. It’s been a rough day.”
Carly nods and she stands up when I do. She walks me to the door and opens it for me.
“I’ll see you in the office, tomorrow,” I say. She nods. I lift my hand and brush the back of my hand
against her cheek before I leave her apartment. The door clicks shut behind me.
What am I doing? Why am I walking away? Because Scott will care that I’m here. Or at least, I
would care if the roles are reversed. Scott and I fucked the same girls before. It wasn’t ever a problem.
But this isn’t just about fucking anymore. This is about Carly. And Scott is on the picture, and if it were
reversed I would hate if he were here, kissing her the way I did, thinking of her the way I was.
Because it’s not just about the sex, now. And we aren’t doing this, it isn’t part of the deal.
I glance up at Carly’s window and see the light go out. She’s going to bed and I’m not going there
with her. I sigh and pull into the road.
When did it become about more than sex and bets? Maybe I’m just in a bad place because my
company is in danger, because I feel like my hands are tied.
That must be it. This can’t be about emotions, because I don’t care about Carly. Not like that. Sure,
she is a hell of a good fuck. And the threesome with Scott was something else. But other than that, she is
just my PA and I care for her as a person and a great assistant.
The emotions I feel aren’t anything more than that.
Are they?
 Carly


After work, I stop at Emma’s place. I knock on the door and step to the side a little so she can’t see
it’s me through the peephole. I don’t want her to be able to decide if she wants to see me or not.
When the door opens and it’s me standing there, Emma’s face hardens.
“You walked away from me twice, now,” I say. “Are you going to be childish about this, or can I
talk to you?”
Emma shrugs. “There’s not much to talk about, but if you insist I guess you can come in.”
I groan inwardly. She’s going to make this as hard as possible. If it was any normal fight I would
have walked away and let her have her temper tantrum alone, but this is about more than that.
“Is Ron here?” I ask.
Emma nods.
“I want to talk to you alone,” I say.
“I was just leaving,” Ron says, coming up behind Emma. He’s tall and lanky with dirty blond hair
and eyes that aren’t exactly green or blue, but something in between. He kisses Emma, flashes me a smile
and walks away from us, whistling.
I walk into the apartment. The place is so much neater than mine. It is so neat, in fact, that it is
almost uncomfortable. I sit down on the couch.
“Something to drink?” Emma asks.
I shake my head. I’m not planning on staying that long.
“Alright,” Emma says, sitting down without getting herself something to drink, either. “What do you
want to talk about?”
“I’m not even going to touch on you being a little bitch about my relationships and who I do or
don’t sleep with.”
She raises her eyebrows but I’m not going to give her a chance to talk.
“The investors mentioned a sex tape threat. You’re acting all innocent about the anonymous tip,
pretending to be hurt that I suspected you. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Emma’s eyes widen when I swear at her.
“You think that is me?”
I nod. “I do.”
I remembered something in bed, after Kevin left last night. I remembered how I wondered about
Emma’s intentions when she picked up my key, how secretive she was.
“You have my key,” I say.
Emma shakes her head, looking down her hands. A smile plays on her lips and I don’t like it that
she thinks this is funny.
 “So, what if there is a sex tape?” she asks.
My mouth drops a little. “You’re saying there is?”
Emma looks up at me. “God, Carly, you’re so naïve. I can’t believe you haven’t found the camera
yet.”
I blink at her. I came in here, ready to confront her, but now that she’s so open about it I can’t
believe what I’m hearing.
“How can you do this to me?” I ask. “You have the tape?”
Emma nods, looking pleased with herself. I jump up.
“Where is it?”
“Yeah, sure, I’m just going to give it up to you. You think you’re so awesome, sleeping with more
than one guy. It doesn’t make you awesome, Carly, it just makes you a slut. Besides, they’re using you –
I’m just trying to help you.”
If I wasn’t so stressed about the sex tape I just realized is real, I might have been insulted by what
she must say about me. Now, I don’t care. I march to her bedroom.
“Where are you going?” Emma calls after me. I storm into her room and turn in a circle. Where am
I going to start? I walk to her nightstand and yank the drawer open, rummaging through it. The chest of
drawers is next and I ruffle through her underwear, her socks, and then the vanity case on top.
Nothing.
It isn’t in her closet, either. Fuck, it can be anywhere.
When I turn around, unsure where else to look, Emma is leaning against the doorpost with her arms
folded. She smiles at me.
“You know, if this isn’t about the fact that your morals are so screwed up, I would be amused by
this. But it’s sad, instead.”
I shake my head.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”
Emma shrugs. I’m so angry I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust.
“You’re sly, Em. Cunning, like fox.”
Emma is still smiling. I want to say something that will wipe that smile right off her face.
“No,” I say. “Not a fox. You’re cunning, just like dad.”
That did the trick. Comparing her to our dad is the one thing that hurts more than anything else. I
push passed her.
“I have nothing more to say to you.”
I let myself out the front door and get into my car. I speed home, unlock my door and run to my
bedroom. I turn the room upside down, looking for a camera. I look everywhere a camera will still have a
view of the bedroom – in doors and the curtains and the lamps. Eventually, I find it. It’s a lot smaller than
I thought it would be. I don’t know much about this kind of technology, but I know enough to know what
I’m looking at.
I turn the small device around in my hands and notice a small groove on the side. When I press it
with my nail, a slot pops open for a micro SD memory card. And the slot is empty.
“Dammit!” I shout.
I walk back to the living room where I dropped my handbag and fish for my phone. When I find it, I
dial Scott’s number.
“I found a camera,” I tell him.
“I’ll be right there,” he says.
When he hangs up, I phone Kevin whose response is similar. When he hangs up, I sit down on the
couch, feeling drained.
Ten minutes later, a knock sounds on my door. I open and both Scott and Kevin stand in front of me.
They look worried. I let them in and close the door behind them.
“Here it is,” I say when they’re inside, picking it up from the coffee table where I put it to stare at
it. Kevin takes it and turns it around in his hands. He finds the memory card slot and opens it the same
way I did. When it pops open he hands it to Scott.
“So, Emma put it in your room?” Kevin asks when Scott inspects the empty slot.
I hug myself and nod. “She admitted it to me today. It’s the only reason I searched until I found it.
It’s so small.”
“Where was it?” Scott asks.
“Attached to my lampshade. It has a black pattern so it isn’t very noticeable.”
Scott nods. Kevin looks at the camera in Scott’s hands.
“We don’t know that there was ever and SD card in there,” he says.
Scott looks at him before he looks at me.
“That’s true,” he says. “It can still be that she’s bluffing.”
I shrug and sits down on my couch. “I guess she can be. This is unlike her so I want to believe that,
but I don’t know. I just… don’t know. I feel like it’s my fault.”
“Hey,” Scott says and sits down next to me. He puts the camera back on the table where it stares at
me with it’s one eye. Kevin sits down on my other side. “It’s going to be fine,” Scott says. He put his hand
on my leg. I changed into slacks and a tank top in the time I waited for them to come so I’m comfortable.
Scott’s hand is warm through the thin, stretchy material on my thigh.
“You can’t have helped this,” Kevin says. They both sit very close to me and I’m aware of their
bodies, the heat radiating from their skins. Scott moves his hand on my thigh, rubbing it slowly up and
down.
“He’s right,” he says. “She’s playing us. It’s not your fault.”
I hear what he’s saying but his hand on my thigh distracts me. He moves his hand up and down, his
fingers sliding closer and closer to my pussy. I watch his hand. I’m worried about the camera, everything
feels like a horrible mess and still Scott turns me on by touching me the way he is, now.
I look at him and his eyes are a deep green. His gaze slides to my lips. I feel the atmosphere charge
around us, the worry changing to desire. Scott leans in toward me, placing his hand behind my neck and
pulls me closer to him. I close my eyes and his lips come onto mine. He kisses me and I open my mouth,
letting him penetrate me, taste me.
Kevin’s hand lands on my arm and he strokes me, his hand moving up to my shoulder and back
down again. He nuzzles my neck as I make out with Scott, kissing the tender skin so that I get
Goosebumps. His hand moves to my breast and he cups it. His skin is hot through my shirt.
Scott slides his hand up until his fingers brush my pussy. I shiver, moaning softly into his mouth.
When he breaks the kiss, Kevin turns my head with his hand on my cheek and kisses me, taking over
where Scott left off. His tongue pushes into my mouth and he squeezes my breast, massaging, kneading.
Scott, having nothing else to do, pushes his hands between my legs. I open my legs for him to give him
access. He rubs my pussy through the pants, the material friction on my pussy lips and clit driving me
wild.
I moan into Kevin’s mouth. He takes my nipple between his thumb and forefinger and rolls it back
and forth, tugging lightly. The combination of sexual stimulation from two different men is almost too
much to bear.
Scott tugs at the hem of my shirt, pulling it up. Kevin lets go of my breast and breaks the kiss to give
Scott a chance to pull the shirt over my head. I sit up and Kevin reaches behind me, unclasping my bra and
pulling it off. They both stop and stare at my breasts. Kevin pulls me onto him so that I lay half on his lap
and he cups both breasts. He massages them, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples.
Scott hooks his fingers into my waistband and pulls my slacks down, taking my panties with them.
In no time at all, I’m naked and splayed out in front of the two men who seem to think it is the most
precious thing on earth.
Scott kneels on the couch, spreading my legs. I gasp when he lowers his head and closes his lips
over my pussy. He licks a line from my entrance to my clit and I shudder when he flicks the tip of his
tongue over my clit a few times. Kevin plays with my breasts, tugging and pulling, and Scott licks and
sucks my pussy until I squirm and writhe on the couch.
After a moment, Kevin moves out from underneath me and I hold myself up, propped on my arms.
Kevin pulls his shirt off and I have a beautiful view of his body – his arms strong and muscular, his abs
sculpted and delicious, moving under his skin. He unzips his pants and pulls out his cock, thick and hard.
He pushes his hips toward me and I know what he wants.
I suck him into my mouth and he groans. Scott is still between my legs, sucking my clit and the
sensation along with the dick in my mouth is another sensory overload. I shiver and bob my head up and
down, taking as much of Kevin into my mouth as I can without cutting off my own breathing. I must hold
back if I want to stay in control of my body – with Scott between my legs I’m already in trouble of tipping
over the edge and losing it.
“Oh, yeah, princess,” Kevin says. I moan against his cock as the sucking on my clit intensifies. I’m
so damn close to the edge it’s almost impossible concentrate, but then Scott stops and I let go of Kevin,
gasping for air, moaning in protest about the orgasm denial.
 Scott


Carly is on fire. The lust in her eyes is clear and she sits up, upset that I stopped just before she
orgasmed. She reaches for me, pulling my shirt up and over my head. Her undressing is urgent. I undo my
own buckle but she takes over, unzipping my pants. She pulls them down, stopping to get rid of my shoes
before throwing it all on the floor. I’m naked, my cock hard and straining. I want her. I want her good and
hard.
“Turn to the couch and bend over, my little whore,” I say to her and she does as I say, bending over
the couch, her ass on display to the both of us. Kevin stands next to me, taking it all in. His hand moves to
his dick, more than happy to watch while I take the first shift. Fine by me.
I grab Carly’s hips and aim at her pussy, pressing my tip against her entrance. She holds her breath
and I push into her. She cries out as her body opens for me.
“God, you’re so wet,” I gasp. She’s practically dripping. I pull out almost all the way and slam into
her again, pushing in as far as I can go. I reach her cervical wall and she cries out. Women don’t like it
when I do that, so I’m careful not to go that deep again.
I fuck her, pounding into her. She cries out with every stroke, bracing herself on the couch. Kevin
moves a little to get a good vantage point from the side and he jacks himself off as he watches me fucking
Carly from behind. Her hair falls over her back when she flips it up and I take the opportunity to grab it. I
bunch it in my hand and pull her head back, holding her, arching her back. She cries out, her body held in
this position and I continue fucking her.
After a while, I let go of her hair and reach for her arms. I pull them back so that her body lifts,
arching her back. I pull her arms back and hook my arms through her elbows so that she’s pulled in an
arch toward me, her breasts pushing out, her body curved in a C as I fuck her. She cries out, her breath
forcing out of her lungs as I manipulate her body into the position I want her in.
Kevin moves closer and I turn us a little so that she isn’t facing the couch anymore. He bends over
and plays with her breasts, taking them into his mouth. Judging by the way Carly’s cries change, he’s using
his teeth as well or sucking hard enough for it to border on pain.
I keep fucking her, slamming into her, taking her body the way I want it.
Kevin stops and steps away. I slow down. Kevin kicks off his shoes and gets out of his pants. He’s
naked, now, standing in front of Carly. His dick is hard and ready for action and I let go of Carly’s arms
so that she can lower her upper body again. Kevin takes her face in both his hands and guides her mouth to
his dick. He pushes into her mouth.
I pick up the pace, pumping into Carly harder again and Kevin picks up the pace, pushing into
Carly’s mouth hard and fast enough that she makes gurgling sounds and moaning. He lets her breathe every
few strokes but other than that he fucks her face the way I fuck her pussy.
 We fucked her like this before. It’s even better than I remember it.
I reach around her body and push my hand between her legs. I slow my strokes right down and my
fingers find her pussy, pushing into her slit to find her clit. She moans around Kevin’s dick when I press
two fingers against her clit and wiggle them up and down. I move my fingers in circles around her clit,
rubbing her faster and faster.
Carly moans, a strangled sound as Kevin pumps into her throat. Her knees buckle and I wrap my
other arm around her hips to hold her up. I rub her furiously, barely pumping in and out of her now for
lack of concentration.
She shudders in my grip, a sigh escaping around Kevin’s dick. He pulls out enough for her to
breathe hard. He reaches down to her tits and squeezes them. Carly cries out louder. She is so close; I can
feel it. She shivers and every shiver brings a wave over her body, clutching at my cock, sending shivers
into my own body, too.
I look up at Kevin. His face is riddled with concentration and desire. I know mine looks the same. I
fuck Carly as much as I can while holding her up and playing with her clit, and the orgasm rocks through
her.
Her pussy clamps down around my cock and her body convulses. Her legs give way almost
completely and I struggle to hold her up as she orgasms. She cries out, her mouth open so Kevin steps
back. Carly shudders and moans and I stroke her clit to prolong her orgasm, to keep her coming.
Finally, she comes down from her orgasm and I pull out of her. She collapses on the couch,
breathing hard. Kevin and I stand over her, cocks still hard, watching her as she gasps naked and spent on
the couch. We aren’t done with her yet.
Carly glances up at us and her eyes tell me she knows it and she isn’t upset it about it, either. Her
eyes are still filled with lust and she looks from my cock – slick now, covered with her sex – to Kevin’s
cock, the tip wet with his own desire. She wants more, too.
Well, we have a lot more to offer.
“Come to the bedroom,” Kevin says. He holds out his hand and Carly takes it. He helps her up and
we move to the bedroom where Carly lies down on the bed again. I stay standing. Kevin crawls onto the
bed with her and she lies on her back, her legs falling open for him. He positions himself over her, his
cock between her legs and he pushes into her.
She gasps. I watch them as Kevin pumps into Carly. Watching them fuck is hot and I palm my own
flesh, sliding my hand up and down my cock. Her juices are still on my cock and my hand slides up and
down with ease. I watch as Kevin pounds into her and Carly cries out, gasping and moaning.
Kevin pushes himself up so he is braced on his arms. The space between them is enough that her
tits move back and forth. I watch her tits with her hard nipples moving and God, I want to suck on them, to
nibble them. I’m not going to get involved, though. It’s Kevin’s turn.
Kevin bends his arms and props himself up on his elbows. He moves the other hand to Carly’s face
and strokes her hair, her cheeks, her brows. He traces her lips with his fingers and when she gasps, her
lips opening further, he pushes two fingers into her mouth. She closes her lips around him the way she
sucked on his or my cock and I watch as he pumps his fingers into her mouth in the same way he moves
his dick in and out of her. It is erotic as hell and strangely dominant, even though Kevin is the tame one
between the two of us.
Carly seems to like it, though. She moans more when he finger fucks her mouth while he slides in
and out of her, her sounds becoming a little erratic. Is she getting closer, already? I want to get in there,
too. I want her ass around my cock again so that I can fuck her from behind while Kevin is still buried in
her pussy. When we did that last time, it took everything for me not to lose my load inside of her straight
away.
Not a lot of women like to do anal. We never asked Carly what she does and doesn’t like, but I get
the idea she likes me in her ass.
When I can’t hold it anymore, I walk toward them. I get onto the bed. Kevin pulls out of her and
moves around her so he is behind her. He pushes into her again, fucking her in the spooning position. In
this position, I’m not going to get to her ass but her mouth is right there. I grab her head and push my cock
into her mouth, lying in front of her.
She takes me in hungrily, sucking on my dick while Kevin fucks her. He slides in and out of her. I
close my eyes and focus on what I’m feeling. Carly’s mouth is hot and she’s doing such a good job of
fucking me with it that I feel like I’m in her pussy, anyway.
I reach down and push my fingers into her hair and close my fist, holding her head firmly in place.
It’s dominating and I love it. I love taking control of a woman. Carly makes strangled sounds as I push my
dick down her throat. I fuck her a few times before letting her come up for air. My balls are in her face but
she doesn’t seem to care and neither do I.
“God, she’s getting close,” Kevin bites out. I know what he is feeling – Carly has tells that are very
clear. Her body convulses, her walls clamping down and she shudders in waves before the big one hits.
I keep at it, watching her carefully.
Kevin pounds into her harder and harder, her body rocking back and forth and I counter his strokes
with mine. When she is very close, I pull back and allow her to breathe while she sucks me. Her breath is
erratic and shallow and she whimpers and moans.
When she tips over the edge she cries out and I pull right back, slipping out of her mouth, letting her
moan and gasp for air. Her face is twisted into an orgasmic expression that burns itself into my memory.
Her mouth opens and I want to shove my dick back in there, but I wait for her to ride it out.
She gasps and moans. Kevin slows down his pace, stroking in and out of her as she orgasms.
Finally, she comes down from her high and she breathes hard. A final shudder passes through her
body. Kevin pulls out of her and crawl to the pillows, lying down. His dick is hard and glistening with the
sex he had.
 Carly lies on the bed, body open, spent. She’s breathing hard. I get onto the bed, too, moving to
where Kevin lies against the pillows and I lie down next to him, leaving enough space in between us for
Carly to join us.
She glances at us and does exactly what I hoped – she moves between us.
We lie side by side. The room is dim with only the bed lamp on and our three naked bodies look
exotic.
Carly sighs. I caress her body, running my hands over her soft skin. Her breasts are soft and big, her
nipples relaxed for the moment.
I want to change that. I lean forward and take a nipple in my mouth, sucking, rolling my tongue
around it. Kevin does the same, worshipping her other nipple. Carly sighs and moans. She moves her
body, undulating as if she is having sex again as we work her over, pushing her from one sexual encounter
to the next. I move my hand down her body, stroking her, feeling her, caressing her. Kevin mirrors my
actions. Her hand is on my head, I guess the other is on Kevin’s and she drinks in the attention we are
giving her.
 Kevin


I want more. I want to be inside of her again. But Carly needs a break. The two of us are using her
up and I don’t want her to have to tap out because we fucked her too hard. So, Scott and I spend time just
loving her body, her breasts, the curves of her hips and her legs.
It’s more than satisfying, but my cock throbs and I want to be inside of her again. I move my head,
kissing her breasts, the skin on her chest, her neck. Scott does the same and he reaches her mouth before I
do. He kisses her long and hard, his tongue probing her mouth. Carly moans and rolls toward him,
throwing her arms around his neck. She hikes up one leg and throws it over him, lying on her side,
splayed open.
I have a perfect view of her back, her ass. I grab her ass cheeks and squeeze, pulling them apart,
looking at her pussy and her back entrance. She is wet, glistening. I push my fingers into her and she
moans into Scott’s mouth.
I move my fingers up toward her ass, lubing her up with her own wetness. She gasps and moans
while she makes out with Scott as I work her ass into a wet mess.
When I figure she’s wet enough, I shift, pressing the line of my body against hers. My cock pushes
against her ass and I guide myself, the tip against her back entrance. She cries out when I push in, breaking
the kiss with Scott for a moment.
I work my way into her, moving inch by inch in slow strokes. I buck my hips slowly, fucking her
ass. My hand is on her hip, Scott’s arms pull her against him. I move back and forth, faster and faster. I
slide myself into her and back and out she produces breathy moans and squeals.
Scott moves his hand down between her legs and I lift my head to see what he is doing. His hand
moves and I’m sure he is playing with her clit. She shivers around my cock, squeezing me with her body
and I groan. At this rate, I’m going to come in no time at all.
I slide out of her. She gasps when I do.
“I’m going to come if I keep doing that,” I say. I don’t want it to be over, yet.
“Let me,” Scott says. Carly lies on her side, gasping. Scott cups her cheek and kisses her. “Get on
him, kitten.”
He is so demanding and Carly seems to like it. I’m less intense than he is. The combination works.
Carly does as Scott says and climbs onto me, straddling me. Her tits are close to my face and I
reach up and grab them. She gasps, positioning herself over my cock and lowering herself down.
When she is on top of me, she starts rocking her hips. She rides me, sliding my cock in and out of
her.
Scott positions himself behind her and I pull her down so that she lies on me, her ass open and on
display for Scott. I know he likes anal a lot more than I do – although, with Carly, I’m more than happy to
fuck her ass again and again. I know when he pushes into her. She cries out and shudders. I feel Scott’s
cock slide right up against mine, nothing but membranes separating us from each other.
I don’t mind it. There are men that are very homophobic, that shy away from everything that looks
like dick. I’m not going to do Scott or anything but if we are fucking a woman together, doubling up means
we are going to be in close quarters.
Scott doesn’t seem to mind, either. We start moving, countering each other’s strokes. When I push
in, he pulls out. We rock back and forth and Carly is rendered useless. She cries out and moans, her breath
hot in my neck, her skin slick with sweat. I put my hands on her back and hold her to me. Her breasts are
against my chest, her nipples hard. We are still fucking, but holding her like this made me feel warm,
different than it has the last time. I’m starting to feel different around her and I don’t know what to do
about it.
I push away the thoughts, the feelings, and focus on her body and what’s happening. This is the
second time Scott and I are fucking her together. When we made our pact, once would have been enough.
It’s amazing to be able to do it again, to find a willing partner in Carly.
I catch Scott’s eye over Carly’s shoulder and he looks content, satisfied. He is in his zone when
he’s fucking. Scott has a different relationship with sex than I do. He is rough and dominant, always in
charge. But even he is different with Carly.
I push the thoughts away, again. I’m thinking too much. I focus on her body on top of me, her pussy
clutching at my dick as I slide and out of her. Her breasts mash against my chest and her breathing is hard
and ragged in my ear.
Scott grunts and groans as he works himself and out of her ass and everything about the three of us
fucking right now is hotter than I could have imagined.
I’m starting to get closer. The friction, Carly’s body splayed out and stretched open on top of me,
the moaning and groaning and gasping, heavy breathing, pushes me closer and closer to the edge.
Judging by Carly’s breathing, the way she shivers on top of me, she’s getting close, too. I want us to
come together. I want to come inside of her the same time she comes undone at the seams, shuddering on
top of me. I glance at Scott over her shoulder and I know what he is thinking. He looks determined. He
will take care of his orgasm the same time we do.
The three of us coming together… the idea is wildly intimate and I like it. Somewhere between the
drama with the investors at work, the threat of being outed and the difficulty Carly is having with her
sister, the three of us got a lot more intimate. Maybe I’m the only one feeling it, but with Carly on top of
me, her legs straddling me, pussy stretched, with Scott in her ass, pushing her to the limit, I feel like we
are in a different place from where we were the last time we did this.
But that’s me, overthinking again. And during sex, too. I push the thoughts away and concentrate on
getting Carly to orgasm.
I thrust into her. Scott does his part of keeping up with me, his cock sliding in and out of Carly’s ass
and she shudders and moans in a breathy voice. I have my hands in her hair, holding onto her. Scott’s
hands are gripped around her hips. I stroke in and out of her and Carly gasps. My cock grows inside of
her, she feels smaller and smaller, gripping my cock and I know she’s tightening as well, a sign of her
pending orgasm.
Scott grunts, his dick sliding in and out of Carly’s ass, going against my direction.
Carly starts whimpering, rugged gasps forced out of her mouth. She cries out, suddenly and I feel
the orgasm wash through her, tightening her body around my dick. It pushes me over the edge and I spasm,
shoving myself as deep into her as I can. I jerk and spasm, emptying myself in her body.
Scott cries out and I know that he’s coming, too. He made sure that he’s right there with us. Carly
cries out as her body is filled with come, both in her pussy and her ass, and our thick cocks fill her to the
absolute limit. Her body squeezes my dick, milking me and I keep coming. It is as if I’m going to keep
pumping as long as her body grabs at mine. Scott breathes hard behind her and he collapses on top of
Carly, his chest against her back. It presses her right up against me, her face close to mine, her breasts
mashing against my chest.
I press my lips against hers and we lay like that, a sandwich of sex and orgasms, riding out the
wave together. Every time we slow down and I think it’s going to stop, someone vaults into another fit of
moans and spasms and kick starts the other two again.
Finally, when it subsides and it’s just the three of us, lying on top of each other, panting and
heaving, Scott sighs.
“Fuck me,” he says.
“We just did,” I say. He chuckles. Carly is paralytic on top of me. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
She nods, her cheek against my shoulder.
Scott pushes himself up and slowly pulls out of Carly. She whimpers when he does. We help her sit
up and she clambers off me, my dick sliding out of her. She complains a little again and collapses onto the
bed next to me. She pulls her legs up, almost hugging her knees to her chest and shivers.
Scott glances at me. I have the idea we are both thinking the same thing. Carly is the hottest woman
we’ve ever been with but we are also developing a sense of protectiveness over her. Lying curled up like
that, spent and breathing hard, she looks small and vulnerable. I want to protect her from the world. It’s a
conflicting emotion considering what Scott and I are doing to her when we’re all fucking.
It’s rough, forcing her to lose control.
Maybe that’s what makes me feel so protective over her. I have a sense of possession over her.
Mine, I think. But that isn’t it. I glance at Scott again.
Ours.
I turn on my side and pull Carly against me. Scott crawls around us and lies down on her other side,
pressing his chest against her back. It’s intimate and sensual, the three of us connected in some way that
has nothing to do with words or even the sex we just had.
 Carly shudders and tension leaves her body almost visibly. She relaxes in our arms. I close my
eyes. My dick throbbing with the echo of the sex we had and I’m tired, relaxed, but I’m not going to sleep.
I’m alert, ready to take care of her. I take a deep breath and let it out, slowly.
Scott sighs just after I do and I wondered how much of this he’s feeling, too. I’m willing to bet that
he feels the same about her. What does that say for the both of us and our friendship, if we are falling for
the same woman? I don’t know. But, right now, we are together, all three of us pressed against each other,
and that is all that matters.
We’ll probably get up and leave again in a while. We won’t spend the night unless she asks us to.
But for the moment it’s the three of us and the warmth seeps through me. This, I will remember for a long
time, no matter what happens.
This and the fucking mind-blowing orgasm I just had.
 Carly


It’s getting harder to concentrate at work. And not just because of what’s going on in my personal
life. I’m stressed about the alleged sex tape and whether it will leak or not. The sex I had with Kevin and
Scott last night – as amazing as it was – just reminded me how much trouble we are in if that sex tape
surfaces. Being the secretary that sleeps with the owner of the company, as the anonymous tip suggests, is
a serious scandal. Even just the rumor can be damaging to my image if it comes down to getting another
job.
Yeah, if that tape becomes a real thing, I’m screwed. I’ll be a Stanford graduate condemned to be
the secretary of sleazy perverted men for the rest of my life. And that’d be if we were only talking about a
normal sex tape.
But a threesome? On tape?
That can ruin all of us.
Kevin and Scott will lose the company, their positions, which is a hell of a lot worse than me just
losing my silly little PA job, but it will still hurt me. It will put a nasty dent in my reputation and then no
one will take me serious again. I will become a walking piece of ass.
I shake my head, trying to calm my thoughts. I can’t think about it like that. I must stay positive.
Maybe it’s all just a threat and it will amount to nothing.
God, I hope that it is the case. With the camera being found, though, the chances are getting slimmer
and slimmer. I can’t believe Emma would do something like this to me. She’s ruining my life. Who the
hell did that to her sister? No matter what I’m doing in my personal life, whether she agrees or not, doing
something like this is taking revenge - or whatever her issue is – to a whole new level.
It’s even worse because of how close we’ve always been. If we always fought, if my relationship
with Emma wasn’t as good as it is, or used to be, it might have been a different story. It would still have
been terrible but not as terrible as it is now. Emma and I stuck together since the day our father left and
our mother had to plan to make ends meet. She worked so hard to make sure there was cash for us to be
able to still lead a normal life that we barely saw her.
In losing our dad, we lost our mom, too. Emma and I were all we had and we stuck together through
thick and thin. For her to just throw that away right now doesn’t make sense. It hurts a hell of a lot, in fact.
And talking to her about it seems impossible, too. It doesn’t seem to me like she’s willing to listen, at all.
Lately, she’s been getting angry and storming away from every conversation I want to have with her.
She’s stormed off twice in the club when we saw Kevin and Scott. Whatever her issue is with me seeing
them, she doesn’t even speak to me about it.
She just tries to make my life hell. And she’s succeeding.
I drop my head in my hands and sigh. I must talk to her about it. I can’t just sit here and wait for the
other shoe to drop. If this tape is real and she decides to come out with it we are all royally fucked. And I
will lose my sister for good. If all of it can be prevented, I must try.
During my lunch hour, I walk to the parking lot and sit in my car. I dial Emma’s number and breathe
slowly in and out, waiting for her to answer. My stomach tightens and in a knot of nerves. I never used to
feel this horrible about talking to her.
The phone rolls over to voicemail and I get the monotone voice Emma used to record her message.
I hang up and dial again. I don’t want to talk to a damn machine, I want to talk to my sister.
I get her voicemail a second time. When I try to phone her a third time, the phone goes straight to
voicemail. Emma turned off her phone.
Getting her voicemail can mean that she is too busy to answer, but switching her phone off is a very
clear message. She doesn’t want to speak to me.
I feel betrayed. If this comes out, my reputation will be ruined. I will either not be hired at all, or
hired because they think I will fuck them, too. Scott will lose his job, his income. Kevin will lose his
whole company. The damage will be so great it will be impossible to fix it, and Emma is willing to do
this to us.
I sigh and bite back tears that suddenly sting my eyes. I squeeze my eyes shut and tears roll down
my cheeks. What the hell am I going to do about this?
When I’m done crying in the car, I check my face in the mirror. I fix the bit of makeup that’s
smudged, reapply lipstick so that I look fresh, and get out of the car. I walk back to my desk. My lunch
hour is over and I haven’t eaten at all. I can’t eat when I feel this horrible. It feels like everything is
falling apart.
The problems at work are so hard, and at the same time the sex with Kevin and Scott is so good, the
contrast gets to me. The good is amazing and the bad is terrible and I’m stuck in the middle, pulled apart
by the two opposites and I have no idea what to do.
Stop fucking Kevin and Scott. Easy, right? But I don’t want to. Lose my job? I don’t have a choice.
When I get to my desk, I notice that Kevin’s blinds are drawn. The last time that’s happened, Scott
and I were in there with him and he got handsy with me, turning me on, giving me a taste of what a
threesome with him and Scott would be like.
Now, I know he isn’t thinking about our sex at all, except in terms of saving our skins. He’s
probably talking to the investors again.
Scott walks to my desk. He looks good all dressed up – dark suit pants and a crisp white shirt. He
doesn’t wear a tie, often has the top button undone and on a hot day his sleeves are rolled up, but today he
looks neat and put together.
He looks at me, eyes searching my face.
“Are you doing okay?” he asks.
I shake my head. I’m not t even going to try lie about it.
 “I’m not okay,” I say. The tears threaten to make a reappearance and I fight not to cry. I don’t want
to cry in the office where everyone can see me, or in front of Scott.
“I don’t know how to deal with this. I feel like it’s all my fault.”
Scott shakes his head. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s not your fault. Just because it’s your sister
doesn’t make it your fault. You can’t be held responsible for someone else’s actions.”
I nod. “I see what you’re saying. But we did this, Scott. If we don’t do…” I swallow, not wanting
to say the words out loud in the office. “Then there wouldn’t have been anything to record.”
I glance around the office, hoping no one heard me. Dana sits at her desk not far from me but she’s
buried in paperwork and doesn’t even glance up when I speak.
“So, you have a personal life. So, you do things that other people might not do. So, what? Just
because your sister is making life hell for you doesn’t mean it’s wrong what you’re doing. We don’t even
have a rule about fraternizing with colleagues at this company. It’s just because the investors are so damn
anal…” Scott smirks when he says the word. I can’t help but smile.
“That’s better,” he says. “I love it when you smile.”
I chuckle. He’s making me feel better. Smiling and laughing is good. But that doesn’t change the
facts. We are still in this mess. My smile slips away again and I sigh.
“I wish I can just think about something else,” I say. “I just want to forget about it for a moment and
have a chance to breathe again.”
Scott smirks. “Do you want me do distract you?”
I glance up at him. “We can’t…”
He shakes his head, still smirking. “I don’t mean like that, although having you right now will be the
best thing I can think of.”
“Stop it!” I say, my voice low.
Scott laughs. “I’m just going to distract you, give you something else to think about.”
I chuckle, feeling silly. “Yeah, okay,” I say.
Scott leans forward, lowering his voice. “I really loved fucking you last night.”
My cheeks turn scarlet immediately.
“Your ass is delicious, baby. I love pushing my dick into it.”
“God, Scott, stop!” I say. I’m blushing like mad and I can’t stop myself from grinning.
He shrugs. “I don’t want to stop. You’re so fucking hot, kitten, and delicious. Whether I’m sucking
on you or fucking you, your mouth, your pussy, your ass…”
“Scott,” I say feeling so shy I don’t know what to do with myself. My body is responding to what
he’s saying, too, the familiar twinge happening between my legs. His words are making me wet.
“God, the things I will do to you right now if I can,” Scott says. “But even kissing will be plenty.”
His eyes slide to my lips when he says it and I suddenly wish he can do it, too.
“You shouldn’t do this,” I say.
 Scott grins at me, a lopsided grin that makes me feel unbalanced. It’s an open smile, so different
from the dirty grins that he gives me so often.
“I have to get back to my office,” he says. “We’ll just have to continue this later.” He leans into me.
“My dirty girl,” he says in a low voice. He winks at me and turns away, whistling like he doesn’t have a
care in the world.
Scott is a great guy. And it isn’t just what he does to me in bed that makes me feel that way. He’s a
good person, someone that genuinely cares for me, not just my body. Yes, sexual innuendo is a big part of
his way of speaking to me, but when he grins at me like he just did before walking away, I see a side of
Scott that is raw and natural, different than what he becomes when he flirts. It makes me want to get to
know him more. I want to know who Scott is. I’m starting to care for him.
I glance at the office, at Kevin’s drawn blinds. What did that say to me about him? Am I falling for
Scott? I don’t have a clear-cut answer to that, but I know right away that my feeling something for Scott
don’t mean I’m forgetting about Kevin. He is a great guy, too, in different ways. Control, responsible, he’s
a lot less reckless than Scott but the stability grounds me in the same way that Scott’s wild side sets me
free. Between the two of them I feel completely balanced. Do I have feelings for Kevin?
I can’t say no but I’m hesitant to say yes. Who am I falling for? Am I falling for either of them or is
it just that the sex is so good I can’t think straight?
Or is it possible that maybe, just maybe, I’m starting to develop feelings for both of them?
I don’t know if that is possible. I don’t know if that’s fair. What if it comes between their
friendships? What if I am the one that pulls apart two friends that are so tight sometimes I feel like they
think the same thing?
I shake my head. What did Scott say? I can’t be held responsible for someone else’s actions. But
this isn’t the same. This is about the three of us and what happens every time we get naked together, and
I’m not thinking about what happens with my body.
Somewhere through all of this, I’m falling in love with them.
 Kevin


Hull is in a black mood. He isn’t my favorite person as it is – he always looks like he has
something on his mind and he doesn’t waste his time with bullshit unless it benefits him in some way. But
this, this is different.
He is ready to pull the plug on the funding, and that will pull the plug on my entire company.
“I don’t see why we should stay on board with this,” he says. Two of the other investors are there,
too, but they shrink to the background with Hull in the room and I see only him as a threat.
“Because there has been no evidence of any of the allegations,” I say. “The tip is anonymous and
led to nothing and the tape hasn’t even surfaced.”
Hull shakes his head. He walks to my window, hands clasped behind his back, and looks out at the
view. If he takes back his funding Raven Publishers isn’t going to survive it. I built this company up from
scratch and the money from Hull – difficult as the man is – has allowed me to take the next step and make
my company something great. Without him, though, I will fall. I’m in that space where I need him.
I hate that, but it’s the truth.
“The rumors are enough,” one of the other investors say.
Hull nods and turns to me. “I agree,” he says. “The rumors make you look bad, whether they’re true
or not. Because we invest in your company, it makes us look bad, too. Give me a reason why we shouldn’t
pull out.”
“Because they’re not true,” I say again.
Hull shakes his head and paces the office. I sit behind my desk but I don’t feel like I’m in charge. I
feel like Hull is here to chastise me, to be a tyrant of sorts.
“I told you that I’m getting to the bottom of it and the investigation is bringing some facts to light,
but I need a bit more time to find out all of it.”
I’m not even lying about it. We know enough to know that Emma is behind it and that she is serious
enough to do something as bad as planting a camera in Carly’s bedroom. Of course, I can’t say any of that
to Hull. I don’t want him to know that we have an idea of what happened because he will find out that we
really did what the tip and the tape are suggesting.
He’ll pull out for sure if he knows what’s going on. I just need to keep him on board.
“I just need a bit more time,” I say.
Hull shakes his head. “If you ask me, you should fire that PA of yours.”
I blink at Hull. I didn’t ask him, but I’m smart enough not to say it. I know I’m in a bad place, no
need to make it worse.
“Fire her?” I ask.
Hull nods. “She seems to be the common denominator in all of this and all the trouble only started
when you hired her It’s a shame really. She has the potential to become some much more.”
Shit. He’s closer than he knows. It’s true, of course, because I started fucking Carly. And fuck, it
seems that Scott and I were doing was working – Hull is impressed with Carly. So how do I get rid of her
just to save the company? It seems like the worst thing to do.
“I can’t do that,” I say. “I’m also part of this so-called scandal. It’s hardly reasonable to get rid of
whoever might be implicated in this rumor.”
Hull gives me hard look and I realize what he is thinking. He’s planning on getting rid of me, too.
My stomach turns to stone. I don’t like the direction this is going.
“I just need time,” I say. “If it turns out that Miss Brown really is the problem I won’t hesitate to let
her go. But if she’s innocent and these are just rumors – which they are – then it will be unfair to fire her
for no good reason.”
Hull doesn’t look like he agrees with me.
“I don’t think you understand how serious this is, Meyers,” Hull says. He is calling me by my
surname now, he never addresses me as Kevin anymore. That is a bad sign. To Hull, calling me by my
first name is a privilege of sorts. That he refers to me as Meyers now means that I’ve been demoted.
The next step will be them withdrawing their funding.
“You’ve got forty-eight hours,” Hull says and I blink at him, surprised. I didn’t expect him to budge
on this.
“Thank you,” I say.
Hull shakes his head. “Don’t thank me. If you don’t find out anything in the two days I’m giving you,
you’re firing Miss Brown. If you don’t do it I’m not even going to hesitate to withdraw.”
I swallow hard. If I don’t find anything I’m either going to lose Carly or lose the company. That is a
hell of a choice to make.
“I’ll be back here on Friday, Meyers,” Hull says. “You better have something to show me.”
I nod. The other investors – all quiet, still – get up. They walk in a line out of my office with Hull
leading the way. The symbolism isn’t lost on me.
When they are gone I lean back in my chair and sigh deeply. This is a big mess, bigger than anything
I’ve been in before. And to think I could have prevented it all if I didn’t sleep with Carly.
But I wouldn’t change it for the world. The time I spent with her, with Scott and without, has been
worth it. No matter what happens. We just must get to the bottom of this, sort out whatever went wrong
with Emma and get her to cough up that fucking sex tape before even more damage is done.
I get up and open my door. Carly sits at her desk, looking miserable
“I’d like to talk to you,” I say. She looks up and nods, getting up immediately. I wait for her to cross
the office space to my door and let her walk in, first. I close the door behind her.
“Is everything okay?” she asks. The blinds are still drawn and I step closer to her. I wrap my arms
around her and pull her against me in a hug. It isn’t sexual at all. I just need to feel her against me, to know
what is real and what isn’t.
She hugs me back, holding on until I let go. When she steps back, her eyes search my face.
“What did they say?” she asks. “Did they withdraw?”
I shake my head and sigh, turning to my chair. Carly sits down in a chair opposite. The desk is
between us and I don’t like it, but we are at work and being appropriate is better.
“Not yet,” I say.
“Yet?”
I hesitate before I fill her in. “Hull gave me forty-eight hours.”
“To do what?”
“Find something worth our while. Or fire you.”
Carly’s eyes widen. “Me?” she asks.
I nod. “He says it’s bad publicity whether it’s true or not and you seem to be at the center of it.”
Carly looks down at her hands and I watch her intently, searching for a reaction.
“Well, he’s not wrong,” Carly says.
I frown. “That’s not what I was getting at,” I say.
“No, I know. But I am at the center of it. We can’t really argue about that.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
“What if you take your forty-eight hours and find nothing?” she asks. “Will you fire me?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“You’ll lose the company.”
She is right. I feel sick to my stomach when I think about it. But losing Carly seems so much worse.
I don’t know when she has become a priority that high on my list, but there it is.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
Carly smiles and it’s warm and gentle. “Kevin…” She swallows. “You won’t lose me. In fact, I’ll
leave.”
“What?” This is going wrong.
“No, just hear me out. What if I leave? The sex tape hasn’t come out so my reputation is still fine. I
can get another job. You won’t be pressurized to find anything so soon because I’m gone, and you’ll get to
keep your funding and save your company.”
“I can’t let you do that,” I say.
“Kevin, I told you I’m not going to let your company fold because of this. It’s the best way to handle
it, don’t you think?”
“But you won’t be here,” I say.
Carly smiles. “You’re right, but we can still see each other. I don’t have to walk out of your life,
just the company.”
She’s making a hell of a lot of sense, but I don’t want to do it this way. I don’t want to lose her. I
don’t want her to work for someone else. I want her with me. I realize my determination to keep her is
about so much more than just her job. I want to keep her all to myself.
“I think we need to confront your sister, instead. What’s to stop her from doing this again when
you’re somewhere else? I don’t know what she’s playing at but if we can fix the root of the problem,
everything else will follow suit.”
Carly nods. “You’re right. That will be better.”
I’m relieved. It seems like she doesn’t want to leave, either. She is willing to take one for the team
and that’s admirable, but she wants to be here as much as I want her here. It’s good to know.
“How can we confront her?” I ask. Emma is Carly’s sister. If anyone knows how to handle it, it is
her.
Carly looks at her hands, thinking. I watch her, taking in her porcelain skin, the dark hair that frames
her face. Her eyes are dark, pensive. Her face is riddled with concentration. She’s set on finding a way to
make this work for me. It means so much to me I don’t know how to put it into words.
She’s such a beautiful person in so many ways.
“I think I have an idea,” Carly says, looking up at me. Her eyes are impossibly big.
“What?” I ask.
“I have to deal with this myself,” she says. “If I tell you, you can’t get involved.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because it’s my sister and I need to deal with her myself. But I think we can fix this.”
She takes a deep breath and nods as if she’s confirming it to herself.
“We have to fix this.”
 Carly


Emma isn’t answering her phone. I know she’s at work – she is a finance manager at a company that
won’t allow her time off unless she puts in leave or something is wrong.
She won’t be home in the day.
I leave the office, with Kevin’s permission and drive to her apartment. Ron won’t be there, either.
He is barely in town as it is and as far as I know he still has his own place.
I’ve had a key for Emma’s apartment since she went on holiday with Ron a year ago and asked me
to take care of her place while she was gone. She never asked for it back and it’s always a good idea to
have a spare key to someone’s house in case of emergencies. Or, in case of having to break in and find a
sex tape.
Routine stuff.
I park in front of the building and sneak to her front door feeling like a thief. I fight the urge to look
over my shoulder.
I unlock her door and close it again behind me, locking myself in her apartment.
I look around. The place is always so damn tidy, it’s impossible to think that someone lives here
and it isn’t just a show house. My place is never this clean. Is cleaning all she does when she comes
home? I’d hate to know what she thinks about my place when she comes to visit.
Where am I going to start? I must find that tape. Three people’s careers depend on it.
I already rummaged through her bedroom once before but I was upset, then, and I didn’t know
exactly what I was looking for. Now, I know.
The downside is that the SD card is a hell of a lot smaller than a tape of some kind, or even a CD.
Which means that it will be so much harder to find. But it is only two, I have some time to get through the
house.
I start in the living room. I search in every little container, underneath ornaments, behind books and
in vases and potted plants. I feel like a thief, an intruder, combing through Emma’s belongings, but it must
be done.
I didn’t realize how many ornaments Emma has until I must turn then over one by one.
The living room is clear as far as I can tell.
I make my way to the dining room and open plan kitchen. I sigh. There are just as many ornaments
in this room. Does she collect the stuff? God.
One by one, I lift them, searched them and put them back where they belong. I work my way through
the dining room, the kitchen and the spare bedroom. I find nothing. No memory cards, nothing scandalous
at all. Not even something I can use against her for blackmail the way she’s messing up my life. Part of me
hopes I will find something – anything – I can use against her as leverage. But Emma’s life is as clean and
pure as a sheet. There is nothing to use against her.
She’s being a bitch and she is so damn slippery there is nothing I can do about it.
In her bedroom, I feel like it’s a lost cause. The memory card can really be anywhere. What if it
isn’t even in the apartment? What if she hid it in her car or put it in her purse so that it’s with her
permanently? If I’m trying to hide something like that, it’s what I would do. I don’t think Emma is cunning
enough for something like that, but she planted a camera in my home, recorded me having a threesome,
tipped Raven Publishers about me sleeping with Kevin and threatened them with a sex tape. That’s a lot
of cunning for a woman who’s so self-righteous lately.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Emma asks behind me and I spin around. My heart beats in
my throat, adrenaline rushing through my veins. I didn’t hear her come home, unlock the door, walk all the
way to where I am in the main bedroom. “How did you get in?” she demands.
“The same you got into my apartment when you aren’t welcome, either,” I say.
Emma’s face isn’t friendly. She opens her mouth to say something but I’m sure she doesn’t have a
foot to stand on and she seems to know it, too. She closes her mouth without saying whatever is on her
mind.
“It’s trespassing,” she says.
“Yeah, I know how that feels.”
I can’t read her expression.
“So, are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” she asks.
I sigh. “What’s going on, Em? Why is this happening? I don’t understand.”
I talk in a low voice. Usually when I’m not defensive, when I’m not being a bitch, Emma gets over
her mood and we sort it out. The best way to get her to let go of a fight is to be the one that says that I want
to fix it.
This time, it doesn’t work.
“Let’s start with why you’re at my house before we get into anything else,” she says. “Or are you
going to keep avoiding my question?”
I shake my head and sigh. “You’re being a real bitch,” I say. “I want that tape. You know that I want
it.”
Emma folds her arms over her chest.
“So, because I don’t want to give it to you, you’re breaking into my house and looking for it?”
“I didn’t break in, I used the key. But yes, I’m looking for it. I want it, Em. I need that tape.”
Emma laughs with no emotion. “I should call the cops on you for trespassing.”
“Okay,” I say. “You do that. Then the lie will be complete.”
She frowns at me. “Excuse me?”
“You want to play this game, be someone else, I can be a bitch, too.”
Emma shakes her head. “Who the hell do you think you are? You’re in my house, calling me out on
my behavior, but I’m not the one sleeping with two guys at once. I’m not the one sacrificing my career
through what I’m doing.”
I shake my head. “And what does it have to do with you? They’re nothing to you, my career and
whether I tank it, has nothing to do with you.”
“Seriously, you were the golden one in our family. You were the one going to Stanford, graduating
with honors…and you’re throwing it all away. I’m not going to support you when you lose your job.”
“I never asked you to,” I say. We glare at each other. Emma looks so different – the sister I always
spend time with, tell everything to, laugh with, is gone. I don’t know who this person is that stands in front
of me, but I don’t know her.
“I’m not going to stop looking until I find it,” I say.
Emma laughs and this time it’s sarcastic. “You’ve always been so damn stubborn. But it’s fine, go
ahead. Turn the place upside down, see what you can find.”
Either, she is bluffing or she knows that I will never find it. It doesn’t matter which it is, it makes
me worry. I doubt myself and my ability to find something that small in an apartment this large, even if it
is here. I don’t usually doubt myself, but everything is different now, isn’t it?
“Are you going to stand there and watch?” I ask when Emma shifts her weight to one leg and
watches me as if she expects to be a spectator to my searching attempts.
“I have nothing better to do with my time,” she says. “I got off work early today, my boss has a
family emergency.”
Go fucking figure, I think. The one day that I need Emma to stay at work during normal work hours,
she got off work early.
I open Emma’s closet. Her clothes are neatly folded and stacked, the hangers arranged side by side
in color groups. It is annoying.
“What are you getting out of this?” I ask as I search. I open shoe boxes, looking in them one by one.
“I’m not getting anything out of it,” Emma says from the door. She leans against the doorpost,
getting bored.
“Then why ruin so many lives?” I ask.
Emma blinks at me. “What are you talking about? I’m just showing you how this works, how you
can’t do whatever you want without repercussions.”
I stand up and turn to face Emma.
“What?” I ask. “You’re trying to teach me a lesson?”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Emma nods and I can’t figure out what she’s thinking, again.
Lately, she’s been so hard to read. It is so unlike her.
“You can’t just fuck around and not have it bite you in the ass, Carly. Everyone gets bitten in the ass
at some point.”
“And what, because I haven’t been burned yet you want to do the honors?”
 Emma looks unsure. “If you put it like that it sounds bad.”
“It is bad! God, you’re not mom, Em. It’s not your job to teach me what life is like. I’m old enough
to deal with my own consequences.”
Emma shakes her head. “You never have to deal with the consequences. You’ve never has anything
go wrong. You’ve just been dancing and fucking your way through life and I’ve had to work so hard to be
in the same space and it’s unfair.”
“Is this what it’s about?” I ask. “You think it’s unfair? I worked hard too, you know? If you have
something against me, fine. But getting Scott and Kevin to lose their jobs is a whole different game you’re
playing.”
Emma blinks at me. “What are you talking about?” she asks.
“You don’t know what you’re doing, do you?”
Emma just stares at me and I realize that whatever she’s been trying to do, it hasn’t been nearly as
bad as things are turning out to be.
“Your little tip and your sex tape threat has the investors for the company ready to leave. Kevin has
a group of people financing the next step of the company. If he loses these investors, the company will
fold. It’s not just my job, Em. It’s a whole company.”
She blinks, looking unsure.
“Are you making this up?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Why would I make it up? Why do you think I’m so frantic to get that damned
tape?”
Emma shakes her head as if it’s just a dream and she can wake up from it. “I don’t mean for it to be
that big. I just…” her voice wavers and I see now that she has no idea how big this has gotten. “I wanted
to show you that you can’t just do what you want and get away with it, that even you will get caught one
day.”
I shake my head. “Em, you have no idea what this is doing.”
Emma looks like she’s going to cry. She looks like the scared child that was betrayed by her father
so many years ago, the little sister I vowed I would protect. My heart goes out to her and I hug her. She is
about to screw my job and the two men I care about, and I’m consoling her.
“Let’s sit down, have a cup of coffee, and talk about this,” I say.
Emma nods. Together, we walk to the kitchen where she makes us coffee. We don’t speak much in
the kitchen. I know she’s thinking, her mind running through everything that said. I want her to think about
it all before we speak again. This is where Emma comes to her own conclusions.
When the coffee is done – instant coffee is always the easiest – Emma hands me my cup and we
walk to the living room together. After I spent so much time going through her stuff I feel like I know
Emma’s place better than I know my own.
We sit down and sip coffee in silence.
 “Is there even a tape?” I ask Emma.
She hesitates before shaking her head. “I never put in an SD card. I have no intentions of seeing you
with two men. God.” She shivers.
I frown. “So, if there is no tape, how did you know it is the three of us and not just me and Kevin?”
Emma pulls a face at me. “I’m not stupid, Carly. I can see how you flirt with them both, how
comfortable you’re with them both and how they don’t hate each other for being that comfortable with
you. I didn’t know for a fact but it was a very calculated guess. Besides, it seems like something you
would do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.
Emma pulls an oh-really face and I sigh, nodding.
“Okay, okay,” I say. “So, you wanted to teach me that I can’t have fun without consequences and it
blew up in your face.”
“Everything sounds bad when you say it that way,” Emma says.
I look at her. She sips her coffee, looking unsure, small, shrunken in on herself.
“There’s not exactly anything good about this,” I say.
Emma nods. “You’re right. I don’t know. I thought I would just scare you.”
“Can’t have fun without consequences, right?”
“It’s ironic,” she says.
Ironic isn’t quite the word I was thinking of, but it will do.
“Will you fix it?” I ask Emma.
She looks up at me. “Me? How am I supposed to fix this?”
“You can call them and withdraw your allegations. Stay anonymous if you must but admit that there
is no tape, it is a false alarm. Or something.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” Emma says, looking nervous.
“You can’t just leave it like this,” I say. “They don’t know who you are but you have to do
something. We have forty-eight hours before they pull funding.”
Emma looks shocked. She’s perched on the edge of her seat, clutching her coffee cup.
“That soon?” she asks.
I nod.
“Okay,” Emma finally says. “I’ll take care of it.”
I sigh, relieved. Finally, something is going right. And Emma isn’t as bad as I thought she was.
“You know, Em,” I say. “You don’t have to play mom. You don’t have to teach me a lesson and
show me that I should settle down and become serious.”
Emma doesn’t look happy. “You’re always messing around, Carly. When are you going to settle
down?”
I shrug. “Does it matter? I’m independent. I take care of myself. I don’t need to settle down if I
don’t want to.”
“Why do you get to have all the fun?” Emma asks.
“No one says you can’t be fun, Em,” I say.
Emma shakes her head. “I don’t know how to let loose. You always know how to let your hair
down and I can never do that.”
I put my hand on Emma’s shoulder. “That’s not something that’s going to go away by blackmailing
me.”
Emma pulls a face when I say blackmail. “What’s with you and these two guys, anyway?” Emma
asks.
I shrug. “I don’t think I need to explain it to you if you don’t want an SD card to see what’s
happening.”
Emma shakes her head, looking embarrassed. “That’s not what I mean. How can you do both and
not get emotionally attached to them both? How do you choose? Or do you block yourself off from them
both?”
I shake my head, not sure how to respond. What am I doing? I’m not so sure.
“I don’t block them both off,” I say. “But I’m not choosing one over the other, either.”
Emma frowns at me. “So, what? Surely you must choose? Which one do you like?”
I think about it for a moment, picturing the two men. Kevin with his leading personality, the way he
can command respect and attention. Controlled, stable. And then Scott, fun and unrefined, the oddball.
Rugged, charming.
I shrug. “I don’t know, Em. I like them both.”
Emma shakes her head. “I don’t get it.”
I try to think how I can explain it but there isn’t a way for me to do that. The truth is I don’t get it,
either. I just know that it is happening.
 Kevin


I’m starting to worry about what I’m going to do. I don’t want to let Carly go – she is a good
employee, a great PA, someone that can climb the success ladder and…and I’m starting to get personally
involved. It’s more than just triple threat. But I don’t want to lose my company, either. Not only is it what
I’ve built my life around, but there are a lot more people in my company that will lose their jobs. Not to
mention Scott, who is a part of everything I do. He will feel it as much as I will and in a way, I feel
responsible for him.
I don’t know what Carly told Emma last night. She phoned me late, telling me that her plan worked
in other ways than she thought, that Emma didn’t know what she was doing.
That’s hard for me to believe. Who accidentally tanks your entire company? But Carly is positive
about it being a misunderstanding of sorts. I don’t know Emma and Carly seems to be close to her sister,
so I don’t bother with it any more.
It feels like I spend all day on the phone with Hull and the other investors these days. If it isn’t to
talk to them about money, it’s to hear how I’m messing up my reputation and they are thinking about
pulling out.
When I get into the office and Carly tells me they are ready to speak to me again, I have to stifle a
groan. I’m getting tired of the drama, tired of having to pretend for the sake of keeping my company.
When I walk into the office and join the conference call, I’m nervous. I’m ready to give them
excuses, something that makes it sound like I found something when in fact I have nothing at all.
Carly called me earlier to tell me that she spoke to her sister and that everything will be okay, but
until I’m in the clear with Hull – who will forever be anal and isn’t inclined to give me a break – I can’t
relax. My stomach is in knots and I haven’t eaten much the past couple of days. I still have a day to find an
answer before something drastic happens.
“Kevin,” Hull says. Kevin? Not Meyers? This is positive. I’m suspicious of it. “How are you
doing?”
“Quite alright, considering the circumstances,” I say.
“Good, good,” Hull says without me having a chance to return the question. “We have an update on
the sex tape allegation.”
I swallow hard. This is it, isn’t it? Do or die.
“And?” I ask.
“We got a call,” Hull continues. “It’s still anonymous but we got a confession that it is a hoax.”
“What?” I ask. It is almost too good to be true.
“That’s right, something about not wanting you to succeed.”
I know that that isn’t it. Emma had other things in mind. But I will let her stay anonymous because
she fixed it. It was a close call, but whatever Carly did last night, it worked.
“So, where does that leave us?” I ask.
“We are moving forward with our investment,” Hull says.
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I was just about ready to give up my company. Or Carly. I wasn’t
happy with either of the choices but I was sure that it would come to that. And now? Now everything is
over. It looks like it is going to work out.
“Thank you, Franklin,” I say.
Hull doesn’t acknowledge my gratefulness. Instead, he carries on with business as if nothing
happened, discussing the next move, discussing money as if nothing has ever gone wrong.
I only listen with half an ear, commenting when I’m supposed to.
“Will you send your projection to my email?” I ask Hull. He agrees.
“Before we go,” Hull says. “We want to apologize.”
I’m glad this is a conference call. I can’t hide my expressions today and I don’t like it when Hull
can read my face, see how I’m not always in control of my emotions.
“Apologize?” I echo him when he doesn’t continue.
“For this nasty business and that we doubted you. Of course, we must take every tip seriously in
case it rings true, but you stood by your guns from the start and we’re relieved that you are right.”
I’m relieved, too, considering that I’m not right, at all. I fucked Carly a few times. There is no tape
but that doesn’t mean the tip was been a lie and if this blew up, we wouldn’t have been able to bounce
back from it.
“Just one last thing,” Hull says. “We won’t allow something like this to happen again. Whether the
rumor is true or not, if something like this comes up again, we’re pulling the plug immediately. Do you
understand?”
It isn’t just a warning, it’s a threat. Maybe Hull still thinks it’s something I’m capable of doing. And
he wouldn’t be wrong. I’m relieved that it isn’t the problem now, and in future we will plan to keep our
personal lives a lot further away from my business.
“I understand. Thank you, Franklin,” I say. “And, as always, I’m glad to be working with you.”
We finally end the conversation. When it’s over, I breathe out loudly. God, what a mess! And now
it’s behind me and I can afford to breathe again. I can’t believe it went away so easily. I couldn’t see a
way out that wouldn’t hurt either one or all of us, and this is so smooth.
Scott knocks on my door about half an hour later. I smile when I see him. He closes the door behind
him and sits down in the usual seat he takes when he comes to see me.
“Good news,” I say when he sits down. “I just spoke to Hull and Emma apparently told them it is a
fake.”
Scott blinks at me. “What?”
I nod. “I know. I’m confused, too. It’s over so easily. But she called them and they believe her and
we’re in the clear.”
“I can’t believe it,” Scott says. “I was preparing for something’s so much bigger.”
I nod. “Me too. I was worried I would have to let Carly go or lose the company or something and
now none of that is necessary. I’m relieved I don’t have to choose between the two because that would be
impossible.”
Scott nods. He seems distracted.
“Are you okay?” I ask. “You’re not your usual bastard self.”
Scott chuckles but it’s emotionless.
“I want to talk to you about something,” he says.
“Sure,” I say. “Now that all of this is out of the way we can talk about anything and I’ll probably be
open minded about it.”
Scott nods but he seems hesitant.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s Carly,” Scott says.
I blink at him. “What about her?”
Scott sighs and leans back, rubbing his palms on his knees. He looks nervous, unsure.
“Spit it out, man,” I say. I’m starting to get nervous. Scott is never this careful around me. I try to
run through everything that can be wrong and I can’t find anything.
“I love her,” Scott blurts out.
I blink at him, trying to make sure of what he’s saying. “What?”
He nods. “I’ve fallen I love with her. With all the sex and spending time with her and everything
we’ve been doing… I love her.”
I shake my head. Of everything we’ve been through the last few days, hearing that Scott, of all
people, has fallen in love with her is the most unexpected.
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask.
“Because you’re my friend. I want to tell you. I feel it would be fair to tell you.”
I shake my head. “You can’t love her,” I say.
“What?” Scott asks. “What the hell?”
I get up from me seat and pace the room, unable to sit down anymore. My blood boils beneath my
skin and I struggle to contain myself.
“I was there first,” I say.
Scott’s eyes widen. “So, she’s off limits?”
I nod. “Yeah, in fact, she is.”
Scott shakes his head. “That’s not fair. She’s an adult. She’s not a toy that we’re fighting over.”
I laugh and it isn’t a friendly laugh. “That’s because there’s nothing to fight over. You can’t have
her. Forget the bet – she’s mine.”
 Scott is getting angry. I can count on one hand how many times Scott and I got angry with each other.
This is the worst I’ve ever seen him. His muscles bulge and he looks dangerous, his green eyes blazing.
“Just because she works for you doesn’t mean you own her. I didn’t come here to ask your
permission to be with her. I came here to tell you what I feel so that you don’t hear it from someone else.
I’m being a good friend.”
I shake my head, clenching my hands into fists. “A good friend? Good friends don’t steal their
friends’ women.”
Scott frowns. “What are you talking about? She’s not your woman.”
“Don’t go there, Scott. I’m the one that met her, that told you about her. If it wasn’t for me, you
wouldn’t even have anything with her. And I fucked her, first.”
“Well, isn’t that mature,” Scott says. “Finders keepers, like we’re back in grade school. Is that it?”
“Fuck you, Scott,” I say. “Fuck you very much.”
Scott stands up. His face is carefully expressionless. He is in control of his anger which is more
than I can say about mine.
“Maybe we should talk about this later,” I say.
“Or maybe, we don’t talk about this at all,” Scott says. “Because I’m going to pursue her. I want
her, Kevin. Don’t stand in my way.”
He turns around and storms out of the office before I have a chance to respond to his threat. I am
angry. I pace around, feeling like I’m coming undone at the seams. How did this happen? It must have
been the same for Scott as for me.
It’s ironic, after everything we’ve been through and talked about, after all the women we’d been
with, the only thing we never considered is that we would fall for the same woman. It worked so well
until now because neither of us cared about them.
Now that we met someone worth our while, it’s a different story. I’m in love with Carly.
Apparently, Scott is, too.
If we aren’t careful this will pull our friendship apart. If it isn’t already doing that. We never had a
problem with women getting between us no matter how many we shared, how many he pulled that I
couldn’t get and the other way around. It was all fun and games. But now? Now it’s pulling us apart.
I had to choose between my company and Carly. The last three days, that was been on my mind.
This time, it’s between Scott and me. Seeing how close we used to be, it’s a whole different game.
One that wouldn’t have any winners.
When Scott leaves my office, it feels like all the air is sucked out of the room. I struggled to
breathe. Am I going to lose my best friend over this? How have we never considered that a woman might
come between us? Maybe it’s because nothing like this has ever happened before.
I let out a deep sigh.
Carly knocks on my door and opens it. “Can I come in?”
 I beckon her in and she closes the door behind her. She looks down at her file and is about to tell
me something – probably work related – when she sees my face. She frowns.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I shake my head.
“Scott and I got stuck.”
“Oh, wow. About what?”
I take a deep breath. “You.”
Carly frowns and sits down in the chair Scott vacated a moment earlier. Her dark hair is back in a
braid and that makes me think of the first time we fucked. Her hair hung down her back in a thick braid the
same way it is now, before we undid it.
I push the images away. I must focus on what’s going on.
“He loves you,” I say.
Carly looks surprised but she doesn’t fish for details. Instead, she keeps control.
“And that bothers you?” she asks.
I nod. “We were never supposed to fall in love with you,” I say. “That isn’t the plan. You know that,
right? That it isn’t about that?”
She nods slowly. I wonder if it comes across wrong, but she doesn’t seem offended.
“So, you’re unhappy that he broke the rules,” Carly says.
I shake my head. “It’s not that,” I say.
“Then what is it?” Carly asks.
“It’s because I love you, too.”
There, it’s out there. The confession is in the air between us. Either, Carly can take it to heart, catch
it and make it her own. Or, she can leave it hanging until it drops dead at her feet.
“Kevin… I don’t know what to say.”
I’m sure it’s a hell of a compliment that two men will feel like that about her. If she feels it she
doesn’t show it. It’s a good move.
“Who will you choose?” I ask her.
“Kevin…”
“No, Carly. I’m sorry but this is driving me crazy, now. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but
now that Scott confessed… I need to know.”
Carly sighs. “We can’t really talk about this here at work,” she says. She is right, of course. “Why
don’t you rather come to my place tonight and we can talk about, take all the time we need?”
It’s a reasonable request. I nod. Going to her place is like being invited into her intimate parts.
Every time, save for one, we had sex when I was there. Scott was involved, too, which feels a little
bittersweet, but that’s beside the point.
“I’ll be there just after seven,” I say.
 Carly nods. “That’s great,” she says. “I am sorry to change topics on you like this now, but we need
to look at these beta tester reviews before I can confirm the second manuscript.”
She’s all business again. It’s a good trait and highly annoying that she can switch off just like that.
But I guess that makes her the clever one, the strong one. She doesn’t let anything cripple her. Not even
two men.
 Carly


On the way home, I call Scott. I don’t want the two men to fight. The last thing in the world I want
is to get between two friends. That was never the plan when they approached me for a threesome.
I fell for both and that wasn’t the plan, either. But the heart wants what it wants.
“Carly,” he answers, recognizing my number.
“Are you doing okay?” I ask.
He sighs. “Yeah, I’m doing okay.”
“Kevin told me,” I say.
He hesitates. “I don’t know what to say. I would rather you heard it from me, of course, but Kevin
and I aren’t in the best place, now.”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “I know, I know. Will you come over to my place, tonight? So,
we can talk about it? I don’t want to leave things up in the air like this.”
“Really?” Scott asks. “You want to see me?”
“Of course,” I say. “I really care for you, Scott. I don’t want to leave things the way they are. Come
over, we’ll fix this.”
“Okay,” Scott says and I can hear him smiling. His face flashes before me and I can just see the
kind of smile he will give – charming, boyish, irresistible.
“Be there at seven?”
“Yeah, sure,” he says and we hung up. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I invited both guys
to my place. I’m playing with fire, I know that. But I don’t want to lose either of them and I can’t stand the
two men fighting over me.
When I get home, I change into something more comfortable – shorts and a tank top – and pull the
place together a bit. I don’t have time for a good clean but I tidy up enough to host. I make sure my
bedroom is neat as well, the sheets on the bed clean, the curtains drawn and the lamp on the bedside table
already on.
I’m nervous. This can very easily go in the wrong direction and I’m scared that I will end up in the
middle of a fight, the break between two very good friends. My stomach is a knot of nerves and my heart
beats in my throat. I have no idea how controlled they will be when they see each other, knowing that they
were tricked into being here together.
When men fight about a woman, all logic disappears. It’s an animalistic thing, dating back to the
very start of existence. When a male wants a female, it becomes primal.
I don’t want that. I want them to be able to talk about everything, to sort it out, to save the
relationships that have been created here.
A knock sounds on my door and I open it. Scott stands in front of me, smiling down at me.
 “You’re early,” I say.
He nods. “I’m over eager.” He leans down and kisses me. The smell of his cologne is thick in the
air and it makes me feel weak at the knees. His chin is freshly shaven and he looks good. He dressed up
for this.
It makes me feel underdressed with my shorts.
Scott walks in and sits down on my couch. I sit down next to him. I consider telling him that Kevin
is coming, too. I open my mouth, but just as I do another knock sounds at the door.
Scott frowns. “Are you expecting someone?”
“Actually, I am.”
I leave Scott in the living room, walking to the door.
“Hello, beautiful,” Kevin says when I open the door. He pulls me close for a tight hug and kisses
me on the cheek.
“Come in,” I say. My chest is tight. This is it – the moment of truth.
Kevin walks into the living room.
“Oh,” he says, stopping dead when he sees Scott.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” Scott asks and he is angry immediately. This is exactly what I
expected from the two of them.
“I’m not going to stay if he’s going to be a part of it, babe,” Kevin says.
“Who are you calling babe?” Scott asks and his voice is threatening.
“Please, guys,” I say, physically putting myself between them, even though it hasn’t come to blows
yet. “Don’t fight. I want the both of you here, together.”
Kevin hesitates. Scott looks furious. But they are both looking at me, focusing on what I’s saying
and that’s a good start.
“We can’t do this,” Scott says. “I don’t want to do this. I love you. I want you.”
Kevin glares at Scott. He’s still standing, still looking like he would rather be aiming for the door.
“That’s the point. I love her. I want her.”
“Well, you can’t have her,” Scott says. He stands up and they are chest to chest. Scott is bigger than
Kevin is – he isn’t much taller but he’s more muscular although they are equally defined. “She’s mine.”
“Yeah? I was with her first, asshole.”
Scott pushes his face right up against Kevin’s, so close that if the atmosphere isn’t so electric it
would look like they are going to kiss.
“No!” I shout.
Scott turns his head to me, eyes angry. “If you won’t let me fight it out with him, then you choose.”
“Yeah,” Kevin says, turning to me. At least the fight is averted. “You choose.”
I shake my head. “Why does it have to be like this? Why can’t we just be the way we were?”
Scott frowns. “What do you mean? You want to be with both of us?”
 I nod. Scott looks at Kevin before he shakes his head.
“I don’t think so,” he says.
“Yeah,” Kevin says. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”
I step closer to them. They are still almost chest to chest and with me this close, I can easily touch
them both. I put my hand on each of their arms.
“It’s worked until now,” I say. “We have fantastic sex. And you guys are best friends. I’ve never
seen two friends this close. Don’t let this, me, come between you.”
They’re both looking at me. Scott’s green eyes are still angry but it’s getting better. Kevin’s eyes are
a deep blue, pensive. He’s considering it.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Scott says.
I put my hand on his chest and slowly slide it down. “It’s not hard, Scott,” I say. My hand slides
over his stomach, tracing his hard muscle. I move lower, still, my hand going for his cock. He takes a
deep breath and shudders when I touch him, already hard through his jeans.
When I look at Kevin he glares at Scott with jealousy.
I put my hand on his chest, as well, and do the same I did to Scott, slipping my hand over his body
until it rests on his cock.
“This is how we do it.” I rub them both through their pants, both shafts hard through the thick
material. Kevin glances at Scott but the anger is replaced by lust. His eyes are hungry when he looks at me
again.
When I look at Scott I see the same in his face. He wants sex.
We all want sex, we all want each other, and that’s what I’m aiming for.
I lean into Kevin and kiss him, first. I do it because I touched Scott, first, but I’m sure not to let up
on Scott when my lips are against Kevin’s and I open my mouth so Kevin can slide his tongue inside of
me. Scott grinds himself against my hand, gripping my wrist and pushing himself against me.
I sigh into Kevin’s mouth.
When I break the kiss, I turn to Scott and kiss him, too. It’s deep and sensual. He is a lot more eager
than Kevin, kissing me like he’ll never be able to kiss me again.
Kevin runs his hand up my arm and onto my shoulder. I shiver, his fingertips light on my bare skin.
From my shoulder, he moves to my breast and cups it, massaging. I’m not sure if Scott is keeping an eye
on Kevin, but he does the same, mirroring Kevin’s action. His hand is on my breast and the two of them
massage my breasts, rubbing fingers over my hardening nipples as I take turns kissing them, rubbing their
cocks.
It doesn’t take very long before someone tugs my shirt up and I let go of them to let them pull it off
me. Kevin reaches for my shorts and unbuttons them and the two men work together to remove them, Scott
lifting me up and Kevin pulling my shorts and my panties off. Scott takes care of my bra and in no time at
all I’m naked in front of them.
 The men both take off their shirts, undo their jeans and pull out their cocks. They are both thick and
hard, eager.
I wrap my fingers around their naked cocks and the flesh is hot in my hands. Scott grips my wrist
again and pumps himself up and down in my fist, his hard flesh thick under the smooth skin. The tip is wet
with lust and it makes me hotter just looking at his cock.
Kevin turns toward me, pressing his body against me and rubbing himself up and down against my
hip. It doesn’t take long before Scott makes a point of getting rid of his pants, too. When he’s naked, he
palms his own flesh and jacks his hand up and down a couple of times, looking me in the eye while he
does it. There is something so damn hot about a man handling his own sex. I don’t know what it is. Scott’s
shoulders are large, his stomach tightens to reveal his six pack and he pumps that monster dick in his
hand.
Kevin’s hand moves to my pussy and I shiver when he touches me. He kisses me again, fingering
me and I am distracted, my attention taken away from Scott’s dick. Scott steps closer to me and puts a
hand on my breast. He pinches my nipple between thumb and forefinger and rolls it back and forth. I moan
as Kevin pays attention to my clit and Scott moves in to suck on my nipple. I’m so wet, so horny, I can
barely contain it. Getting attention from two men at the same time will never get old, and these guys know
exactly what they’re doing.
They are so incredibly tuned into my body, into what I need and how I feel. This is why I can’t
choose. I must be with them both. They are both amazing men, both fantastic in bed and they both care for
me. I’m not sure if they will be completely happy with a threesome-like relationship, but we will talk
about that later. After a couple of orgasms and dick filling every one of my holes, we can negotiate.
For the moment, I’m relieved they aren’t fighting, they both want me and they are both set on
pleasuring me until I can’t take it anymore. The rest will come later.
 Scott


This isn’t exactly how I would have liked it. I want Carly all to myself, there’s no doubt about that.
She isn’t just fucking hot and good in bed – a good start for any woman – but she’s a great person. I want
to get to know her better for who she is. I want to do non-sexual things with her, like movies or dinner. Or
making a home.
With Kevin here, that picture doesn’t quite work out. But I can’t deny that a threesome is hot and
that this – sex and love and all that entails – is great with him involved. He’s my best friend, he’s always
been, and it will suck to lose him.
So, what if this works?
I don’t allow myself a hell of a lot of time to think about it. Carly is naked and so wet I can smell
her scent. It makes me want to lose control, to ravage her. And she’s working fucking wonders with her
hands on my body.
Yeah, I want her and I want her, hard.
When I can’t hold it anymore, I grab her wrist and pull her to me, away from Kevin. Yes, there’s
still jealousy, a power play, at hand. I don’t care. I pull her against me, her breasts mashing against my
chest, and I kiss her hard. I push my tongue into her mouth and she gasps. My hand goes to her tit and I tug
at her nipple until she whimpers.
I spin her around and bend her over the armrest of the couch so that her ass points to me, splayed
open. Her pussy is swollen and glistening.
“God, you’re so fucking wet,” I say, plunging my fingers into her pussy. She cries out. “You’re my
little whore, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” she replies in a breathy voice. It’s the first time she responds to me asking her that and I
growl in a low voice. I shove my cock into her pussy and she cries out again.
Kevin watches me as I fuck Carly. He doesn’t look ecstatic about it, but the expression on his face
slowly starts to ease. He watches as I pound into her, my cock disappearing into her folds, reappearing
and disappearing again. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, laced by her cries.
I glance at Kevin again. His face is riddled with hunger, lips parted, hand moving furiously up and
down his cock as he watches me fuck Carly. Yeah, I can do this. I can fuck her and have him watch, or
watch him fuck her. We’ve always been good at sharing. If this thing works with the three of us, why the
hell not?
The alternative is losing him and doing this with Carly alone. It will be great, of course – I had her
alone at the club that one time and she as more than enough woman for one man. But Kevin’s my friend
and this is good. We can do this.
I turn my attention back to what I’m doing, fucking Carly harder. Her body rocks back and forth, her
voice forced out in gasps and moans as I fuck her. I run my hand up her back and down again, her ass
round, cheeks firm under my palms.
Kevin moves to the couch, sitting down close enough to Carly so that her face is in his lap. He
strokes her hair, pulling it together so that he holds her hair in a ponytail. There’s a lot you can do with a
woman when you have her by the hair.
Kevin strokes her cheek with one hand, slowly guiding her toward his cock. Carly opens her mouth
without complaining – a woman with an eager mouth is such a hot thing – and I know by Kevin’s groan
that she’s taken him into her mouth.
Her head bobs up and down as she sucks him off, using the rocking motion I create with my dick to
fuel her sucking. Kevin has her hair in a grip and he pushes her head down every time she sucks him in.
Her body convulses and she males a gagging sound as she takes him into her throat. She bobs her head up
and down, making strangling sounds, deep throating him while I fuck her.
It’s a sight to behold, her ass moving as I pound into her, her head bobbing up and down with
Kevin’s hand in her hair and the sound of her sucking him off, moaning as we’re working ourselves into
her.
I rub my hands up and down her body again, her skin smooth and hot under my fingers. I grab her
ass, pull her cheeks apart, watched my cock slide in and out of her. Kevin glances at me and there’s no
animosity left. We’re back in the motion, fucking the same girl, sharing. This is what we’ve always done. I
can’t count the amount of times we fucked together. This time, it’s the same woman, but we’re in the
motion again and I like it.
I like being with my friend.
Carly’s moans get more intense and she breathes through her nose, sucking Kevin’s dick a little
shallower than before. She’s close to an orgasm, her breathing erratic, her body convulsing around mine.
She gets tighter and smaller and it makes me feel like a god I feel so big inside of her.
When she orgasms, her body shudders in a wave of pleasure, her walls clamping down around me.
She lets go of Kevin’s dick to cry out, screaming as she comes.
I slow down while she comes, letting her ride it out.
When she calms down, she’s tight – tighter than usual.
It just makes me want to take her again.
I pull out of her and she cries out. When I help her up, she’s a little wobbly on her feet but that’s
okay. I’ll keep her up. I push her against the wall, lifting her legs so I hold her up. I push into her again
and she cries out.
She wraps her legs around my waist and I thrust into her.
“God, you’re so tight,” I growl. She answers with more cries when I fuck her like that, pinned
against the wall. I don’t know where Kevin is. I don’t really care, not right now. I want to fuck her as hard
as I can, come inside of her, claiming her as my own. Sure, Kevin and I are friends but a very carnal,
selfish part of me doesn’t want to share.
I fuck her like this for a while. Kevin clears his throat and I must do something or it will get ugly
again.
So, reluctantly, I put her down.
Kevin holds out his hand and I clap my palm against his like a kind of high-five. We are in it
together. It makes me feel better. He isn’t taking her from me, he’s taking her with me.
Kevin pushes Carly against the wall the same way I did but he doesn’t hold her up completely. He
pulls one leg up, letting her hold up her own weight with the other leg before he pushes into her. Her arms
are around his neck. She kisses him as he pushes into her and she moans into his mouth.
I watch him as he fucks her. I swallow my jealousy. We’re going to do this. If it doesn’t work, we
can do something else, call it off, but I have try, first.
 Kevin


I have to give her a break. She’s struggling to keep herself up. She already orgasmed once and
we’re pounding in to her something fierce. I love fucking her, though.
I pull out of her and Carly gasps, letting down her leg. She is breathing hard.
“Come to the bedroom,” she says in a breathy voice.
I nod and follow her. Scott comes, too. He’s fucking her quite aggressively today. I have a feeling
it’s about possession – he’s a lot more alpha male than I m and I don’t get the feeling he wants to share.
But he’s being a good sport, letting me have my turns when it comes to it.
He's a good friend. We’ve always gotten along, even if sometimes we get stuck a little. We can
figure this out I’m sure. I want to do this with him, both date her, if it’s what Carly wants. She isn’t going
to choose between us, that’s clear. And even though I’d have preferred her all to myself – what man
wouldn’t want that? – I’m happy that I wouldn’t lose Scott.
I don’t know what the future will hold, but I know that is where we are at, now.
The bedroom is ready for us. It’s clear that Carly planned this. The light is dim, the curtains drawn
and I think about sex, sex, sex when I walk in. Carly crawls onto the bed, her ass moving side to side,
breasts amazingly large and perky. She lies back on the pillows. Scott and I stand side by side, dicks hard,
bodies eager, watching her. We’ve been here, standing next to each other, watching her, before.
Carly makes eye contact with me, her large eyes drowning deep. She spreads her legs, her pussy
bare and swollen and glistening with her and our sex combined. She’s so damn hot it takes every ounce of
self-control not to get onto the bed with her and take her again. But I know what she’s doing.
She’s going to give us a show. For that, I’ll wait.
Scott’s thinking the same thing, by the looks of it. I can almost feel the sexual energy come off him
but he controls himself and stays on the spot, too.
Carly leans over and pulls open the drawer in the nightstand. She retrieves a toy – purple, silicon
and vibrating when she pushes a button. It’s curved, with a protruding nub at the front and it’s not hard to
guess what she’s going to do with it.
She pushes the button on the side a few times, the sound of the vibration changing, before she
presses it against her clit.
She cries out, arching her back, moving her hips as the pulses flow through her body. Her face is
contorted and her free hand goes to her breast. We watch her writhe on the bed at the mercy of her own
pleasure.
For a while she strokes her clit with the toy, gasping, moaning, curling on the bed. Her moaning and
gasping changes and she’s getting closer. She’s going to bring herself to orgasm.
Instead of pushing herself over the edge, she pushes the thick part of the toy into her body. She
gasps as the toy vibrates inside of her now. The nub is on her clit and she pump the toy in and out of her
pussy, bringing herself to the very edge. She tugs at her breast, so hard it has to hurt, but her cries are of
pleasure, not pain.
Scott shuffles his weight from one foot to the other next to me. He’s struggling to hold back. I feel
his pain.
“That’s enough,” Scott says and marches to the bed, his dick bobbing as he walks. “You’re just
about torturing me to death, kitten.”
He gets onto the bed and makes his way to her head. He doesn’t take over what she’s doing to
herself, but cups her face in his hands and tips it back, instead. She opens her mouth and he bends over her
body, pushing his cock between her lips.
She moans, the sound muffled, the angle a little off but she takes him in and he starts bucking his
hips, fucking her mouth.
I get onto the bed, too. I take the toy from Carly and turn it so that her clit is free but the toy is still
inside of her. I put my mouth over her clit and lick her, flicking my tongue over her. She moans around
Scott’s dick. Judging by the nature of her sounds he’s all the way down her throat. I know exactly how that
feels.
I suck on her clit and she writhes, shuddering in waves. I want her to come. I want to make her
orgasm again.
It doesn’t take very long before she topples over the edge. She cries out and Scott pulls back a bit
so that she can breathe. The orgasm is bigger than the first and lasts longer. I lick her slowly, with long
strokes, while she orgasms and it feel like it carries on forever.
I need to be inside of her. I pull the toy out, pull her up and get her sitting onto top of me. She is on
my cock, collapsing forward like she didn’t expect to have to control her body again. But her hips start
moving as if they have a mind of their own and she starts fucking me.
I groan as she moves her hips, riding me, my cock sliding in and out of her. She’s so damn tight
after orgasming.
Scott comes up behind her, positioning himself at her back. I pull her forward so she is at the right
angle, her ass ready for Scott. He takes the time to lube her up so that it isn’t a bad experience.
I know when he starts working himself into her ass. She cries out, shivering. I feel Scott slide into
her ass, his dick up against mine again. This is familiar territory and Scott and I fall back into our rhythm.
We move back and forth, countering each other and Carly cries out. She’s limp on my body, doing nothing.
She doesn’t have to.
We do all the work, fucking her from both sides, riding her. She shudders and I’m not sure if she’s
coming again or if she’s still riding the echoes of her last orgasm. I don’t care. Her body pulsates on mine,
muscles contracting and relaxing and it is amazing. I have to concentrate not to lost my load myself.
Scott grunts and groans. He has to hold himself up to push his cock into her. He doesn’t seem to
mind the extra effort, though. He bucks his hips harder and harder, pumping into her. I hold still, letting
him go at it. Carly screams as he pounds into her, taking her most intimate entrance as hard and as fast as
he can.
After a while, Scott slows down again and Carly seems to catch her breath. He strokes slowly in
and out of her and I counter his strokes again, doing the same thing, sliding in and out of her as she lies
sandwiched between us. The sex is hot and sensual, all at the same time. Every time the three of us do
this, it’s different. It’s like we get closer and more intimate, getting to know each other better. It changes
the way we deal with each other, how we are together, how intense our orgasms and our moments together
are.
We both slow to a stop and for a moment we just lie there, the three of us piled together. Scott is the
first to pull out. I help Carly off me and we lie together on the bed, gasping and heaving. Scott runs his
hand up and down Carly’s arm. I stroke her thigh. We are all attached in some way, touching each other,
keeping the intimacy going even though we aren’t fucking right this minute.
Scott moves closer to Carly, shifting his body until he is pressed up against her. He moves his body,
rubbing himself against her, pushing his cock against her hip. Her breathing changes, deepening, and he
kisses her. I let them have their moment. I have to recover.
Scott works himself up against her body until he’s inside of her again, fucking her while they lie on
their sides, facing each other. Carly throws her leg over Scott’s, opening herself up. The motion is soft
and sensual for a while.
Scott picks up his pace, going faster and faster and Carly gasps and breathes harder. Scott rolls
onto his back and Carly follows him, keeping him inside of her. It’s impressive to see him pull her on top
of him without breaking contact.
When she’s on top of him, Carly shifts her position a little to get comfortable before she starts
riding him. I don’t get behind her, don’t work my way into her ass. I lay beside them, watching her fuck
him. I watch her breasts as they jiggle, swinging back and forth when she leans forward. Scott’s hands
grip her hips, fingers digging into her skin, helping her ride him harder. Her eyes are locked on his, lips
parted. Her dark hair hangs over her shoulders.
She’s fucking another man, but in that moment, I don’t think I’ve seen anything more beautiful than
Carly. She’s the definition of elegance and grace, even while she’s getting down and dirty, and she’s
completely in her element.
And she cares. Carly cares about the both of us. I know it because she tried not to let the company
go under, not to let us lose our jobs. This is one of the many reasons I have come to love her – because
she wants the best for us, both of us, and I want the same for her. It’s the only reason I’m willing to give
all this a chance. Carly is going to date the both of us because she’s willing to sacrifice things for us, so I
can make sacrifices for her.
And as far as sacrifices go, dating a woman with my best friend, fucking her together like we
always dreamed about, is not the worst that can happen.
Carly is getting closer to an orgasm again, but this time, Scott’s right there with her. His body curls
up, stomach muscles bunching together. Carly moans and Scott’s face is riddled with concentration. A
moment later, Carly loses herself and comes undone at the seams. I watch her as she collapses on Scott’s
chest, shuddering, moaning. Scott grabs her hips and fucks her from beneath, shoving himself into her. He
grunts, gritting his teeth and I know that he’s coming, too. Carly cries out as he pushes himself into her as
deep as he can go.
For a moment, time stands still. Neither of them seem to breathe and they are melded together on the
bed.
I lift my hand and reach for Carly, touching her shoulder. She lifts her head, looking at me, blinking,
and pushes herself up on Scott’s chest. I’m grinning at her and she smiles back at me.
She lifts herself off his dick and it flops out, shimmering and floppy now. Carly moans and she
moves off the bed.
“I’m going to feel that for a while.”
Scott chuckles, proud of himself. I lay back on the pillows. I’m still rock hard and pulsing but I
don’t want to push Carly to do anything. She comes over to me, though, and wraps her hand around my
dick.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Taking care of you.”
I shake my head. “You don’t have to.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t be silly. I want to. And you want me to, I know you do.”
I watch her as she lowers her torso and kisses the tip of my cock. It jerks involuntarily and she
takes me into her mouth, sucking her hot lips all the way down to the base of my cock. I groan and put my
hand on her head, feeling her bob her head up and down. Her mouth is as hot as her pussy is, her tongue
swirling at the bottom of my shaft and my head presses against her soft pallet.
She pushes her head down further, pushing me in deeper before she pulls back. She moves her head
up and down, faster, faster, sucking me off. I gasp and moan and lose myself in the sensation. Slowly, my
orgasm comes back again, building. My balls swell, I get harder still and my muscles start jerking and
spasming of their own accord. Carly’s pulling the orgasm out of me and I’m very close to the edge.
Suddenly, it tackles me. My cock twitches, my balls tighten and I squirt come into her mouth. Carly
drinks me down, taking it all in her mouth as I twitch and pulsate. I groan, holding her head, emptying
myself into her and she takes it all.
When I’m finally done I gasp and drop my head back onto the pillow. God, even if it’s just her
mouth the orgasm is one of the best. She knows just how to get me off.
She looks up at me, her eyes twinkling. She smiles and I realize she swallowed. She explained to
me once that getting up and spitting it out when we are in the swing of things is just a mood kill.
 Carly moves up my body, laying herself down next to me, I wrap an arm around her and hold her
close. Scott moves as well and curls his body around her, spooning her. The three of us lie together, and it
isn’t about who got to have Carly and who won this game. She belongs to both of us.
I close my eyes. I’m not going to go home tonight. I’m staying right here, sleeping with her. Scott
don’t look like he’s planning on moving, either, and that’s fine by me.
Carly’s breathing changes as she falls asleep. I glance over her head at Scott, who makes eye
contact with me. An understanding passes between us. I lay my head back down and take a deep breath,
letting sleep drag me under. Scott moves, switching off the lamp and we lay in the dark together, the three
of us.
 Carly


I wake up wrapped in warmth, and it isn’t just the blanket that’s been pulled up. I’m sandwiched
between the two men and there’s enough body heat to go around. Kevin and Scott are both still asleep,
Kevin on his back next to me with his hand between my thighs, Scott curled behind me, curved around me
like a question mark.
I close my eyes again and relish in the warmth and security that comes with having two men next to
me. I like this. I can get used to this. It’s what I wanted when I told the men I want to be with them both.
Kevin shifts next to me and I glance at him. He opens his eyes and turns his face to me. He smiles.
“Hey,” he whispers.
“Hey,” I whisper back.
Scott sighs and his hand runs up my thigh. I smile and roll onto my back, Scott moving to make
some space for me.
“Well, this is different,” he says, propping himself up on his elbow and looking at us.
I nod. “A good different, though.”
They both agree. I love that we can do this, that we woke up together and no one is jumping down
anyone’s throat.
“It’s Friday,” Kevin says.
“We have to get ready for work, soon,” I add.
Scott nods. “Yeah, but we can do this again tonight, and then lounge in bed for as long as we want
to, tomorrow.”
I smile. “I like that idea.”
We lie together in silence for a while.
“We have to talk about this,” Kevin says. “We have to lay down some kind of rule about what we
do together in public.”
“I agree,” I say.
“The investors still can’t find out about it,” Scott says. “And if this is going to be our standard
arrangement we need to be very careful.”
I nod. “At least Emma won’t be here to mess it up, this time.”
“You’re sure?” Scott asks.
I nod again. I’m sure that Emma and I have sorted it all out. We will get to an understanding about
our personal lives and what the boundaries are. It was a matter of jealousy but at least now she knows that
she can’t try to teach me a lesson without hurting other people.
“So, how are we going to do this?” Kevin asks. “With the three of us, dating. We’re exclusive,
right?”
 I’m glad he asks. Talking about it all is important to me.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m not fucking anyone else but the two of you. I’m not available.”
Scott and Kevin both nod. “We feel the same about you,” Scott says for the both of them.
“What do we do about dates?” Kevin asks.
I shrug. “We can do dates just like everyone else. Dinner, movies… except there will be three of
us, not two. No one will think it’s weird, it will look like we’re all friends. Assuming we’ll all behave in
public.”
I glance at Scott.
“Why are you looking at me?” Scott asks.
“Because you’re more likely to do something in public,” Kevin says, grinning.
“What?” Scott sounds surprised but I laugh.
“It’s true. I don’t need to remind you about the club.”
Scott shrugs. “Yeah, okay. As long as we get to come home and fuck I’m fine.”
He flashes me a cocky smile and I laugh. He said ‘home’. I don’t know what we will do about
living arrangements and all that. We’ll figure it out as we go along. For now, the three of us are together,
the company is safe, our jobs are secure and that’s all that matters.
“We need to get dressed,” I say.
“I’ve got the shower, first,” Scott says.
“If you two play nice you can share,” I say.
They both pull a face. “The common denominator here is always you, Carly,” Kevin says, looking
serious. “The only thing we share is you. I’m not showering with him.”
I laugh. “Okay, but someone is getting a cold shower.”
We laugh and get out of bed. Scott walks to the shower, whistling. Kevin turn to me.
“You’re okay with all of this?” he asks.
I nod, trying not to get distracted by his dick and the fact that it isn’t exactly soft.
“I’m happy,” I say. “I want to be with you, I want to be with him.”
Kevin nods and pulls me closer to him, pressing the line of his body against mine. He’s naked and
so am I. He kisses me and I let him push his tongue into my mouth. He grows against my hip, his cock
becoming hard. If we fuck now, Scott will be unhappy. We will still figure out who and when and where
we are going to fuck.
I break the kiss.
“We’re not doing this right now,” I say.
Kevin pout but he steps away from me, respecting my wishes. I smile at him.
My phone rings before any other remarks can be made. He walks to the living room – butt ass
naked – and I watch him go before I turn to my cellphone. It’s Emma.
“Hey, little sis,” I say when I answer.
 “Sorry to bother so early,” she says. “I was hoping you’d be up.”
“I’m up,” I say and smile. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it is,” she says and sighs. “But I want to apologize.”
I sit down on the bed, cradling the phone against my cheek.
“What for?”
“Everything,” she says. “I was thinking about everything you said and I realized how serious it all
is. I didn’t know. I’m sorry about that.”
I shake my head even though she can’t see me. It is sweet of her to apologize.
“It’s alright, Em. At least we sorted it out before more harm was done and I know where you are
coming from. We talked it out and it’s behind us.”
“Did you hear that I phoned them?” she asks.
“Yeah, I heard. You saved our skins by doing it. Thank you for that.”
“It’s the least I can do. I didn’t make myself known, I thought it might make things worse if they
somehow figured out I’m your sister.”
I nod. “That’s great, thank you.”
She hesitates for a moment and I expect her to end the call. We weren’t as close as we used to be
and we have less and less to talk about.
“How are you doing?” she asks me.
I smile. “I’m really good, Em.”
“Did you spend time with the boys last night?”
I like that she’s willing to talk about it, that she doesn’t think it is so weird that we can’t mention it
at all.
“Yeah, I did,” I say. I don’t need to go into details. If Em wants to know more about my relationship
with them I will be happy to tell her, but only unless she asks.
“What are you going to do about them?” she asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Well… you have to choose at some point, right? Do you know what you’re going to do?”
I take a deep breath. I don’t know how she’s going to take the news.
“I’ve already chosen,” I say.
“Who?”
“I chose them both, Em.”
I wait for a reaction. I half-expect an explosion from her, something where she tells me I’m wrong.
Instead, she hesitates and then chuckles.
“Only you can pull something like that off,” she says.
I laugh, too. “I don’t know about that. We still have a lot to work out. But I’m happy with the way
things are right now.”
 “I’m glad,” she says.
“Em?”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s not do this again. I hate it when we fight. We’ve been so distant lately, I hate it.”
“Me too,” she says. “It is a big mess up. I screwed up so much.”
“Let’s just get close again, okay?” I ask.
“We will,” she says. “We already are.”
I smile and we ended off the conversation. It’s good to have my sister back. Everything is okay,
now. I have two great guys, I have a wonderful sister, a job that isn’t in danger at a company that will
survive.
I can’t ask for anything more.
Life’s perfect.

Six months later
Kevin


Raven publishers is doing fantastic. Since the drama with Carly’s sister and the investors wanting
to pull out, we’ve only been moving onward and upward. Of course, Carly, Scott and I work very hard to
keep our relationship under wraps. Even though it’s all consensual and we have an understanding, a lot of
people frown upon our way of living.
That doesn’t stop us from having the best time of our lives, but we keep it behind closed doors.
It’s going great between the three of us, though. I wasn’t sure when we said we would try if it
would work we will do it or not. Scott was very possessive at first and we got stuck a few times. But as
with any relationship, we learned each other and grew together. Scott and I are better friends than ever,
and even though there’s nothing more between us – I will never be able to take the next step with a man –
we are both very involved with Carly and she loves us both equally.
I never feel like she neglects one or favors the other. She loves us in different ways, that’s for sure.
Scott’s wilder and he needs her to be stricter with him when it comes to balance between the two, where I
find our connection is more stable. Still, it works.
I bumped Carly up from PA to a manager. She’s so good at what she does. I don’t want to waste her
talents on a job that doesn’t challenge her. She does very well with an editorial team that she oversees
and our revenue has almost tripled in the last six months. That’s miraculous growth, even for a place that
has investors pumping cash into the place.
My phone rings and I answer.
“Kevin,” Hull’s gritty voice comes over the speaker. “How are you doing?”
“Good, good, thanks for asking,” I say. He called me Kevin since Emma’s phone call and he isn’t
nearly as hard-ass with me anymore, especially considering how well things are going.
“I want to congratulate you on the financial flow the last few weeks. I looked at the projection we
made six months ago and you’ve achieved well and beyond that.”
I grin. “I’m very happy to hear that.”
“So am I, Kevin. We were nervous to invest in you at first, what with the allegations and the sex
tape and all that. It was a good choice for us to stay on with you and you’ve proven the last few months
that they were nothing more than rumors.”
I nod. Carly, Scott and I will always laugh about the close call, about how everyone assumed that
the rumors were false after Emma’s phone call when, in fact, they were more than true.
That is our little secret, though, and it will stay that way.
“I just wanted to fill you in on that,” Hull says. “Well done.”
 “Thanks Franklin,” I say. “It’s been a pleasure.”
“One more thing, though…”
“Yeah?”
“I know this might not be the best time, but I know you’ve been wanting to spend more time with the
editorial process…”
That’s not exactly true – I just want to spend more time at home with Scott and Carly. But whatever.
“Yes, and?”
“How do you feel about spending more time with the writers, and stepping down from your role as
CEO?” He says, and then I just hold my breath as I think of what he’s saying. He wants me to step down
from CEO? What the --?
“That sounds…interesting. But who’d take over the CEO role?”
“Carly,” he tells me matter-of-factly, and I don’t even know how to respond.
“That’s…a great idea,” I reply, the words leaving my mouth before I can filter them. Carly as CEO?
That’s the best thing I’ve heard all week. She’s competent, able, and she knows the publishing business
like no one else. That’s why we wanted her to make her VP.
We bet on that.
And now she’s about to become the fucking CEO.
“That’s settled then. We’ll discuss it in the next board meeting.”
We end the conversation and I’m buzzing with pride. We made it. Somehow, we got through the
worst and everything is going well. Maybe I should feel bad because I’ve been demoted from CEO…but
who the hell cares? Carly’s CEO, and I couldn’t think of anyone better for that role.
Now she’ll be the one fucking her employees. Huh.
Carly comes to my office half an hour later.
“We’re going out tonight,” I say. “To celebrate.”
I explain to her what Hull said.
“I don’t…I don’t know what to say,” she says and kisses me – a chaste kiss, nothing too drawn out
with the door and windows open. “Are you sure? I mean…”
I nod.
“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
“What are you two talking about?” Scott says, stepping inside the office and shutting the door
behind him.
“Carly’s made CEO,” I tell him, and then it just happens – we start laughing at the same time. I grab
my wallet, slip him a dollar, and he does the same.
“I guess that’s a draw,” he says, and then we just laugh as Carly looks at us with a confused
expression.
“Well, I guess I’ll make the reservations. My last task on the to-do list before I’m in charge of all of
you,” she tells us with a smirk.
We go to Café and Bar Lurcat. It’s a middle-class kind of place but I like the vibe and it is
something different than what we usually do.
The restaurant has a checkered floor and white chairs and table cloths so that it all looks stylishly
homey. It’s full when we arrive and the atmosphere is bright and cheerful.
“This is great, princess,” I say to Carly who chose the place.
“Yeah, I like it,” Scott says.
We order champagne to celebrate. We have good food and good wine for the rest of the night. The
alcohol makes me feel good – light and airy, and horny. I want Carly.
I put my hand on her leg under the table. She glances at me. She’s been drinking, too, and I know
she feels the same. When I look at Scott he has the same idea I have. His hand is on her other leg.
“Wasn’t there a coat checker when we arrived?” Scott asks.
I nod. “There was…”
“Shouldn’t we take this home?” Carly asks. “We did talk about public places.”
“It is dangerous,” I admit.
“But it’s a walk on the wild side,” Scott chimes in. “You have to admit that playing dangerously
sometimes is so much hotter. Or did you forget about the club?”
Carly blushes, which tells me that she hasn’t forgotten at all. It’s one of those things that keep
coming up. It doesn’t bother me that it’s their inside joke. I have those too, with Carly, and we have so
many memories of the three of us together, it doesn’t matter. We are a fully-fledged trio, now. We date and
we are all equal.
“Let’s go,” Carly says.
I grin at Scott who waves at our waiter. We split the check three ways – it’s one of the things we
figured out down the line – and stand up. Scott leads the way to the checking clerk, who’s young and
engrossed in a book. Carly and I hang back while Scott approaches her. He flirts shamelessly with her.
We wait, watching him slip her some money and when he turns to us and nods, the girl is blushing. I
feel sorry for her – she will never be able to stand up against Scott and his charms.
Scott slips into the closet, first. Carly follows and I bring up the rear, winking at the coat checker.
She pales a little, realizing what she just agreed to cover up. We won’t make it hard for her. We will be in
and out.
I laugh inwardly at my little joke.
Scott’s already kissing Carly, tugging up her blouse. I come up behind her and run my hands up her
thighs. She shivers, her skin Goosebumps under my fingertips.
She’s wearing a skirt and it isn’t hard to reach Carly’s pussy. She widens her stance and I pull her
panties aside, sliding my fingers into her slit from behind. She gasps as Scott kisses her, his hand on a
breast that he pulled out of her bra. When I push my fingers into her, she moans softly and Scott takes her
nipple between his teeth. She’s at our mercy and she must stay quiet, something she isn’t very good at.
I finger fuck her a bit while Scott works over her one breast and then the other.
I’m rock hard in my pants, aching for her. I pull out my dick and push her forward a little so she
bends over. I hike up the skirt and her ass is beautiful and round, her thong a thin black like into her ass
crack.
Without pause, I push my cock into her. She gasps and Scott takes advantage of her open mouth,
pushing his dick in between her lips. Her moans are muffled. It’s one way to keep her quiet.
We fuck her, Scott pumping in and out of her mouth and me thrusting into her pussy.
Before long, Scott pulls out and I do, too. We spin her around, giving the other a chance to fuck the
hole we had. Carly braces herself on my hips with her hands and takes me into her mouth. Her body rocks
back and forth as Scott fucks her, creating the motion with which she sucks me off.
Scott reaches around and finds her clit. He does what he does best – pushes her closer and closer
to the edge. I grab her tits where they’re half hanging out of the blouse and squeeze them, tugging at her
nipples. It doesn’t take long before she comes. Her body shudders, her breath forcing out around my cock
as she comes.
I want to come, too.
Scott pulls out of her and she straightens up. Her cheeks are flushed. I pull her closer to me and she
presses her body against mine. I kiss her. I can taste traces of our sex in our mouth but she mostly tastes
like wine and lust. I push my tongue deep into her mouth, exploring her. With my fingers, I find her pussy
and she shivered when I touch her clit, now sensitive. I hike up one leg and hold her up, pushing my cock
into her pussy. She gasps when I do.
Scott is right behind her, pushing up against her and I know what he’s going to do. We pulled it off
standing once before. We don’t have many options, now. Or lube, but he will make it work.
I feel his fingers at the base of my cock as he finds some of her wetness and spreads it to her ass. I
feel it as he pushes in, her ass resisting at first. She cries out, his dick sliding into her ass against mine.
We fill her up and she breathes hard. We don’t give her much more than a moment before we started
moving, fucking her, moving against each other. Her face is buried in my shoulder, her moans muffled. We
are surrounded by coats, the smell of our cologne, her perfume and our sex mingling in with the coats that
hang around us. Hopefully it won’t linger.
Carly is the first to orgasm again. She shudders, her body spasming, clamping down on mine as she
cries out into my shoulder. She grabs my arm and her nails dig into my skin through the shirt.
It makes me lose it. I come inside of her, pumping and squirting my load inside of her, claiming her.
I feel it when Scott comes. He pumps, too, and we fill her up together. I’m pretty sure her orgasm
lasts all the way through ours. Only when we are done does she stop shuddering.
Scott pulls out and I follow suit. We tuck our dicks back into our pants, satisfied for the moment.
Carly looks down.
 “I’m a mess,” she says. She’s wet all over her ass, her pussy and her thighs. She fishes for a tissue
in her bag and wipes up what she can.
“Don’t clean that too much,” I say. “We’re not done with you, yet. We just have to get home.”
Scott looks at me with naughty expression. We watch Carly as she fixes her clothes, tucking her
breasts back into her top and fixing her skirt.
When we leave the coat check, Scott slips the girl another bill. She deserves it after what we did in
there. We leave the place, headed for home where Scott and I are going to make Carly ours all over again.
Whatever we are doing, it’s working. We will still run into stumbling blocks every day – we often
do – but with the three of us we can figure it out. We have so far. Right now, though, I have sex on my
mind, and nothing else.
I want to fuck Carly again, good and hard, before curling up in bed with her, her body tight against
mine and Scott on the other side.
This is how it should be.
 Caught On Tape




By Daphne Dawn & Natalie Knight


Copyright 2018 by Crimson Vixens
All rights reserved



This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.
This work intended for adults only.

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and more!
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 Todd


I just became the lead story on CNN. Fox News has a therapist analyzing what happened, and TMZ
is running the same clip of me over and over, ad nauseum.
It’s all lies, of course. But it doesn’t matter because most people don’t have an appetite for the
truth, anyway; in a sense, it’s like an unwelcome guest at a dinner party. What people want is gossip,
rumor, and innuendo.
And the media is more than happy to oblige. Anything to goose their fucking ratings.
Jordan Ray, my public relations agent, a man I pay an obscene amount of money―which is most of
the money he earns―is sitting across from me. He seems to think I’m in need of some damage control.
We’ve been working together since the day my career took off, six years ago. And the truth is that
he has gotten me out of a lot of situations I didn’t think even a fairy godmother could extricate me from.
But this time, I don’t agree with how he wants to handle it.
This…this…shit I’m seeing on Access Hollywood―the only thing I can do is scream at the ninety-
two-inch screen mounted over the marble fireplace in my office. And I still don’t feel any better
afterwards.
Jordan patiently waits, tapping his fingers on the shiny mahogany. It’s obvious from the expression
on his face that he has something to say. But I’m not interested in that right at the moment; I’m still pissed
off and need to get the anger out of my system.
“Go fuck yourself!” I scream at the screen, loud enough to practically blow it off the wall.
Jordan clears his throat, and I finally stop pacing and join him at the table. I nod, as if to say, go
ahead, take your best shot. And he does.
“I tried to stop you. You couldn’t keep your fucking hands to yourself?” Jordan yells as he stands
and begins pacing the length of the room.
I’m so not in the mood to listen to this. I want to walk around the table, pick him up by the lapels of
his thousand-dollar suit and toss him out the window.
Yeah, I know, he’s my best friend and the best PR man in town. I also know I’m lucky to have him.
But what he’s telling me to do…it just doesn’t work for me.
“Jordan,” I say in my most commanding voice before giving a slight look at the chair.
It’s all I need to do. With that one gesture, I communicate that he needs to shut up, sit down, and
listen to me―I’m an actor, so I know how to command any situation. I’m good at what I do, and he stops
and sits.
“So, how bad is it?” I ask.
“Bad” is Jordan’s terse reply.
“I’m gonna need more specifics,” I say. “On a scale of one to ten, where are we at?”
 Jordan places his hands on the desk and looks into his palms as if the answer will magically write
itself in the air in front of me. “I’d say you need to lay low, leave town, go visit a sick relative, go on
vacation, take some downtime. That bad.”
“Fuck,” I shake my head, “It wasn’t my fault.”
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t look that way— “
“Make this go away,” I interrupt him before he can say anything else. “Are you keeping up with me
here? I need you to have this entire saga dry up and disappear.”
“It will be much easier if you aren’t around, where the paparazzi can follow your every move,”
Jordan responds.
I just stare at him in disbelief.
“You’re a distraction, Todd. We just need you out of the picture for a while if we’re going to do our
job.”
This doesn’t sit well with me. Jordan knows what really happened, and he needs to figure out a
way to get the truth out, not the version of the ‘truth’ that’s playing all over TV and YouTube. I’m fed up.
Enough.
“Just make it go away!” I yell and storm out of the room.
Walking down the long corridor of my penthouse apartment, I glance at the dozens of photos of me
hanging on the walls.
Six years ago, I was a struggling actor. Now, I’m on top―and when you’re on top, there’s always
someone who wants to take you down. But I’m not going quietly.
Not me.
I yank out my phone and give a good hard swipe to the right. Pulling up my Twitter feed, I can see
it’s not good. “Damn, word spreads fast.”
I can’t believe it. It’s a hashtag fiesta: #ToddSucks, #LoserTodd, and what instantly becomes my
personal favorite, #CLIT, which apparently stands for, Chump, Loser, Idiot, Todd.
“Assholes... don’t these people have anything better to do with their time?” I say to no one.
With my eyes glued to the screen, I walk into my bedroom and slump to the floor at the foot of my
bed, still scrolling through my feed.
Jordan knocks on my door.
I turn and scream, “Go away, and don’t come back until you fix this!”
There’s silence from the other side of the door, so I know he gets that I’m dead serious.
“In case you don’t know how I feel, let me break it down for you. The media, collectively and
individually, are a bunch of hairy sleaze ball suck eggs, with a fucking twisted sense of the truth. You and
I both know that tape has been edited to make sure I look bad.”
“I know, I know,” Jordan says, obviously trying to placate me.
“Then go away and do your fucking job.”
 I really have had enough of this bullshit. It’s time to change my mood, and there’s only one way to
do that: change of atmosphere.
I jump up, strip off my clothes, and head for my walk-in closet.
I gotta admit, sometimes this is my favorite place in the apartment. I had it built to my specifications
when I moved in.
I gave up one of the bedrooms to make sure it was big enough to accommodate all my clothes, a
couch, and a work out bench. This six-pack didn’t come in the mail.
I give a pat to my flat stomach, “All muscle, baby,” I say to my reflection in the full-length mirror.
“He thinks I’m okay with laying low,” I mutter to myself, looking through my built-in drawers
“Yeah, right…go on vacation, as if.”
I push a button that brings the revolving clothes rack to life.
“Disappear? Fuck that! The only place I’m going is out,” I push the button again, the rack stops, and
I rip a pair of jeans off their hanger.
Finally dressed, I check my reflection again from head to toe: black v-neck tee, jeans, and boots. I
have to admit, I look good―like I always do.
I reach for my phone. Flipping through my options, I see a number that makes me smile, and push it.
“Hey, baby, let’s go get something to eat.”
 Sophie


Alice is tugging at my shirt.
“Now, Sophie, now.”
I finish typing the text message to my mother. As usual, she’s agitating me to firm up plans for our
proposed lunch next week.
“You’ll miss it,” Alice tugs harder.
With a sigh, I put the mobile down and roll my eyes.
“I don’t even know if I want to see it,” I start and reach for my mug of coffee.
“Of course you do.” Alice corrects me, and I laugh.
“No, I don’t. And I really don’t think I want to work with him either. From what I’ve read on social
media, he’s a prima donna of the highest caliber, not to mention rude…”
“Shush,” Alice puts her hand over my mouth.
Luckily, she’s been my best friend since way back; otherwise I might have objected.
The television screen is filled with none other than Todd Alexander: current mega star and bad boy.
“Turn it up, I can’t hear.”
I lift cushions off the couch, push Puff the cat off, and find the remote to the TV. As I turn it up, we
can hear Todd’s angry voice. A close up of his face shows his eyes narrowed and his lips tightly draw
into a thin line.
“You’re nothing,” yells Todd at a little Italian man who is holding up a tea towel. “Who the fuck do
you think you are, wog boy?
“I don’t give a shit about your money. So what if you can afford this place? Why don’t you do us all
a favor and crawl back down into that hell hole you crept out of.”
I cringe. It’s worse than I thought it was going to be. Todd’s eyes are now wide open; he is baring
his teeth at this poor man who is still holding up his tea towel.
Was Todd going mad? Rabies? Brain tumor, or simply a personality disorder?
My money is on the latter.
Whatever that was, my mind is made up. I don’t need to see the rest.
Just then, Todd lunges forward, and I watch horrified as his right fist makes for the poor man’s face.
Jordan, his PR guy, appears out of nowhere. He grabs Todd and tries to pull him back. It is to no
avail.
Terrible Todd seems to be frothing at the mouth. Left jab, right jab and left again.
I’m holding my breath.
Dismayed, I see Todd’s fist collide with the face of the Italian. Blood trickles down from his nose.
In slow motion, the hurt figure crumples onto the ground.
 “Fucking useless mole,” Todd continues to sneer at the mess of a man on the floor. No one else in
the restaurant appears to be moving. Jordan is hot on Todd’s heels.
Todd is still swearing as he leaves the restaurant. Jordan is hot on Todd’s heels.
My hands are shaking. There’s clearly something wrong with our alleged superstar. No one in his
right mind behaves the way Todd Alexander just behaved. No one.
He just made a psychopath look like a gentle giant.
The screen of the television goes black and voices are cut off mid-sentence.
“Fuck you” are the last words we hear.
“Can you believe it?” I shake my head and start pacing the length of my living room.
“You―” starts Alice but I cut her off.
“No. No. No. And in case you still aren’t sure what I think: NO.”
I’ve stopped pacing and am looking at Alice, hands on my hips.
She’s sitting on the white leather lounge, legs tucked underneath her, and she smiles at me.
I know that smile. I know her too well. I lift my right hand and point my index finger at her.
“No. Alice, I mean it.” I run my hand through my hair and point at the television. “Did you see and
hear him? I mean, who behaves like that?”
I cringe at the thought of having a confrontation of any type with Todd. So what if he’s got the looks
and the talent?
“Come on Soph, he’s not all bad. You know Megastar has the deal in the bag. Todd has to sign his
part of the contract, and it’s a done deal. And we need this. You can’t back out now.”
I hate it when she calls me Soph. Pouting, I flop onto the couch. Puff hisses at me and abandons his
spot.
He goes to Alice who pats him. Promptly, he purrs and gets comfortable on her lap.
Traitor.
“I can’t work with him.” I shake my head. A man of Todd’s caliber would never listen to me. A
director has to work with people who get on with other people; Todd isn’t one to get on with his fellow
human beings, that much is obvious.
“The whole thing might have been a misunderstanding. You should listen to Todd’s version of the
story first.”
I roll my eyes before I look at Alice.
“You’re joking. How could any of what we saw have been a misunderstanding?”
Alice doesn’t reply.
“Alice, please,” I start to beg. There must be a way out of this.
“Listen, Sophie.” Alice suddenly sounds serious. “You can’t back out now. We’re all tied up in this
deal. The movie will be made. You will direct it. You’ve got the balls, girl.”
I laugh.
 “Don’t forget Jordan’s there as well.” Alice adds.
Briefly, I think about Jordan. Why does he stay with Todd? Does he like facing a personal
challenge every day?
Can I really manage Todd? Negative self-doubt creeps through me like thorny weeds.
Of course you can’t, it says over and over. No one can, not even Jordan.
“But he’s always been bad, Alice.” I chew on my bottom lip. “This latest scandal is one of many.”
Surely there must be a way out.
“Do you remember the story your mum used to read to us when were kids?”
I stare at Alice. What is she getting at? I shake my head.
“The little engine that could?”
My lips curl up a little.
“You do remember.” Alice sounds triumphant. “Remember the I can’t turns into I think I can, I
think I can, I can.”
With a long sigh, I flop back on my lounge.
“Okay then, if the little engine says so. I guess I’ve got no choice but to give it a go.” I give in and
see Alice’s triumphant smile. Her right fist slices the air in a victory punch.
Oh, what have I just gotten myself into?
 Todd


Christ on a motorcycle, who isn’t carrying this story? I click through all fifteen hundred channels,
both broadcast and cable, and I get no relief. Every morning show has the same video footage of me
throwing the punch.
I can’t get away from it.
I’ve been sitting here for an hour, and the more I watch, the further I slump into the couch. This crap
is depressing me, it’s like a career ending drama.
I’m so sucked into this that I’m startled when I see Jordan walk into the living room.
“Hey, bro. How are you doing this morning?” Jordan asks as he saunters in, looking like he came
out of a page of GQ.
“I see you used your key.”
“Yeah, I knocked, but you didn’t hear me. So, I just let myself in.”
I sit up a little straighter and adjust the small towel around my waist and make sure I’m covered. I
wasn’t expecting to see Jordan this morning and I don’t think he needs a show at this hour.
“Frankly, I’m surprised to see you up so early,” Jordan says, “but I made sure to be prepared just in
case and brought you your favorite.”
He hands me a cup. It’s a six dollar, triple espresso shot, heavy on the cream and six sugars, just the
way I like it. The price is outrageous, but he’s buying so I’m just going to be polite.
“Thanks,” I say and grab the coffee. “If you didn’t think I was up, what made you come by?”
Jordan nods his head toward the television screen.
“Oh, that,” I acknowledge. “That is quickly becoming the bane of my existence. And if you don’t do
something quick, fast, and in a hurry, people will really believe I am the biggest piece of shit-crap that
ever lived, if they don't already.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why I’m here.”
“Please tell me you have a better plan than yesterday. 'Cause the disappearing act just will not
work. I am not leaving town. And if I have to, I’ll say it fifty more times, until you get it.”
“Relax,” Jordan says, and motions me to sit back, as if I were a child who needed a time out.
The bedroom door suddenly opens and Jordan looks up. A slow smile spreads across his face.
“Jordan, this is Katie,” I say, but don’t take my eyes of the screen, and Jordan doesn’t take his eyes
off Katie. “This is Jordan,” I add, lifting my coffee cup hand in his direction.
“Nice to meet you,” Jordan says, without shifting his gaze.
“I…uh…seem to have…left some things out here,” Katie says.
I finally pay attention and turn around. Katie is wearing nothing but my deep green silk sheet, and
her long raven hair has that messy, I-just-spent-all-night-fucking, look. Sexy as hell. I can see why Jordan
is a little slack jawed.
“Feel free, search away” I say, waving my hand in a gesture that says, 'don’t mind us'.
Katie tip toes in and picks up her bra from behind one of the seat cushions, a black lace thong from
the coffee table, and her shirt and pants from the corner of the room.
I flash on a moment from last night and think oh, yeah, the coffee table. Blood quickly rushes to the
center of my body, necessitating a quick adjustment of my towel, you know, to get a little more
comfortable, cause I’m getting a little …stiff.
Katie pads back into the bedroom, leaving me and Jordan alone with our thoughts. They're probably
pretty much about the same thing.
“Earth to Todd,” Jordan eventually says, snapping his fingers in front of my face, and dropping a
folder on my now infamous coffee table.
“What’s that?” I ask.
Jordan doesn’t answer right away. Instead he sits next to me and simply says, “Open it up.”
“Unless that’s the answer to this nightmare, I’m not interested.”
“It may just be.”
I stare at the folder for a few seconds. I’m curious.
I lean forward and grab the manila envelope and look inside. It’s just a bunch of papers. Okay, I’ll
bite. I pull out the papers and discover it’s a script and a production schedule, neither of which interest
me.
I toss them both back onto the table. “What the hell is this?”
“You didn’t even give it a good look.”
“Don’t have to. Right now, I need a solution to this,” I say, pointing to the television where the non-
stop bullshit of my life seems to be playing without pause. Damn, aren't there any murders or hurricanes
these assholes can cover?
Jordan sighs, and leans over, picking up the script. “Look at this, it’s a movie and it’s being
directed by Sophia Palmer.”
I don’t respond.
“Don’t you get it? Sophia is a ‘Palmer’. Her father is legendary. He’s larger than life in this
industry. And Sophia has become the little darling of the media, her last two films were each a big
success–“
“Big success in the world of independent films…big difference.”
“Regardless, she’s gaining clout. She’s smart, talented, and she’s fucking gorgeous. And if that’s not
enough, she’s also starring in this movie. You have nothing to lose and everything, everything to gain.”
I pick up the production schedule, and look through it. I can see that the schedule is tight because
it’s an indie and they have no money.
“No, thanks. Not interested.”
 “Listen, Todd, you want me to get you out of this mess you’re in, right? Well, you and I both know
that you’ve been in the tabloids too often, you have a reputation, you’re becoming someone the studios
aren’t going to want to touch—“
“Hold up,” I interrupt. “I make the studios a shitload of money.”
“Yeah, but only when the fans love you and are willing to pay to see you. Right now, I don't feel a
whole lotta love out there.”
And there it is. With all this negative air time, I am now damaged goods.
“You need to give this script a read,” Jordan continues, “it’s good.”
I don’t want to hear what he has to say. Besides, something else has caught attention: the sound of
my career flushing down the toilet.
Jordan gets up and walks to the floor-to-ceiling window. He just stands there looking out, saying
nothing.
It’s a standoff. No words between us.
I cave first, “What?” I say in a tone that is both annoyed and a little worried.
Jordan combs his fingers through his hair and turns to me, “Stop being such a piss-ant and let me do
my job. I’m good at what I do. And I’m telling you, you need this script and you need this director.”
I give him the middle finger.
“Good God, get serious, Todd! You got a major situation and you’re acting like you’re in high
school giving me the finger. I’m telling you straight up, this part could mean an Oscar nomination, it’s that
good. Besides, you need to be around Hollywood royalty right now. It will help get the stink off you. And
Sophia Palmer is Hollywood Royalty.”
The one thing I know is that Jordan has never steered me wrong and he's doing a good job of selling
me on this. I’m still on the fence about doing an independent film, but I can feel myself relenting,
grudgingly.
I turn toward the screen and damn, I’m still there. That settles the matter. The media is giving me no
choice, and I need to distance myself from this hot mess.
“Okay. I’ll do it,” I say, looking up.
“Great.” Jordan claps his hands together, “because production starts in two days.”
 Sophie


I walk into the boardroom and notice that my entire crew is present, punctual as ever. I smile. It’s
good to have reliable people behind you, people who share your passion and commitment for a film.
If there’s one thing I hate, it’s people who don’t give a project one hundred percent, who miss
meetings, and who, if they do attend, are disruptive.
So far so good, I think.
Alice smiles brightly, and Eric nods in my direction. Time to get down to business.
Thirty minutes later, it’s time to wrap up.
“So, unless anyone else has a question or wants to add something, that just about wraps it up for
today.” I have a definite need for caffeine.
I see heads nodding, mumbling between cameramen. I hear the scraping of chairs being pushed
back. Looks like no one has anything to add.
“Thanks, Sophie,” one of the ground crew calls over, giving me the thumbs up sign. In return I give
him a short wave.
For me, however, meeting time is not quite over.
“Great work today, Sophie,” Alice pats me on the arm.
I force a smile on my face. My insides are about to explode.
“Remember the steam engine?” her voice is almost a whisper. “I think I can, I think I can, I know
I can,” another reassuring rub on the arm. “You’ll blitz it, mark my words.”
With a deep sigh, I slump back in my director chair, a present from my dad.
Briefly, I reflect on Dad. He was my idol. Of course he would never ever have an inkling of self-
doubt. But then I’ll never fill his oversized boots anyway.
Dad was the doyen of directors.
“Thanks,” I glance at Alice and adjust my papers, clipboard, pen and laptop.
“Should I be part of this huddle?” Eric has joined our end of the table.
Instantly, Alice wraps her arm around his waist.
“It’s not a huddle. I’m just injecting Sophie with a little bit of self confidence.”
Eric feigns mock shock.
“Sophie.” He points in my direction. “This Sophie needs confidence?” Now he shakes his head. “I
don’t think so.”
All three of us laugh.
I’m lucky to have such supportive friends.
Alice and I go way back. We sat together on our first day of school.
But we really bonded when Charley Chatterley called me clumsy. I burst into tears, and Alice
broke her ruler over pig boy’s head. Since then, we’ve been through thick and thin―as well as film
school.
Luckily, Eric understood our friendship and was not one of those guys who tried to break us apart.
I push my own chair back and hug first Alice, who promptly makes choo choo noises in my ear, and
then Eric, who thankfully doesn’t.
“Thank you,” for some reason I feel a little teary. “You two are too good to me.”
With a deep breath and my shoulders held proudly back, I smile brightly.
“What’s the worst that can happen?” I quip and glance at my watch. The two stars are due in three
minutes. “With any luck, he won’t show up.”
I stress the word he.
Alice pecks Eric on the cheek and sits down again. I see him give us one last thumbs up before he’s
gone.
I’m trying to think of words of wisdom Dad would have thrown my way over the years, but nothing
comes to mind.
For another few seconds, I indulge in strolling down memory lane. I used to love sitting on dad’s
knees when he was sitting in his director chair. It was black and had the words “Director” written on the
back in large white letters. The words Do not touch were printed underneath.
Dad did not take me often on set, but when he did, I relished every second.
Suddenly, the door opens, and a petite blonde woman walks in, accompanied by a much taller and
slightly round man at her side.
I watch Emma closely as she comes into the room. She’s not very tall, but she’s very well
proportioned. Her eyes remind me of a deer. They look a little timid, but they’re beautiful.
To my surprise, I register that her blonde hair is naturally blonde; it’s not the peroxide blonde most
actresses seem to have these days. She wears it in a casual up-style. A few strands have escaped and hang
loosely down to her shoulder.
Alice stands to take over the introductions.
I hold out my hand and am pleased Emma takes it and actually shakes it. No dead fish handshake
with this woman.
Something else I instantly like about her is her smile. It looks genuine, non-Botoxed.
“Nice to meet you, Emma,” I invite them both to sit down.
For the first few minutes, we engage in the usual small talk: about the weather, the traffic and then
about the film.
“I’ve read the script,” Emma steers the conversation to business. “Who is playing the lead role?”
“Sophie is playing the lead role and directing,” explains Alice for me.
I glance at my watch. Todd should be here by now.
“Lovely,” replies Emma, and I’m pleased my co-star seems to be of a good nature.
 My eyes wander to the door and back to my watch. The arrogant prick is now ten minutes late.
“Look, I’m really sorry but our other main star is not here yet. Do you mind if we wait just a few
more minutes?”
Emma shrugs, leans back in her chair, and crosses her legs.
Her agent on the other hand flicks through his phone before he leans toward his star and whispers
something in her ear.
“It appears I’m needed in other meetings after this. Are we able to start without him?”
I look at Alice, who nods her agreement.
“Sorry,” I’m all business-like, careful not to let my anger take hold of me. “Of course we can start.”
By the time our meeting finishes, I’m quite excited to be working with Emma. Eric described her as
being subpar with a huge fan base. I found her easy to get along with.
Perhaps she isn’t the brightest bunny out there, but we can’t all be super geniuses, right?
“I can’t believe the arrogance of the man not to show up today.” It takes every ounce of self-control
not to throw something at the wall. “Not only did he miss the meeting, but he made us, his colleagues,
wait.” I’m seething with rage.
Alice drums her fingers on the edge of the table. She knows better than to interrupt me when I’m in
this state.
“You better call his agent and find out what’s going on. Because if you let me do it, I’ll end up
firing him on the spot.”
 Todd


Damn, who are all these people?
I'm thumbing through my phone messages and there have to be at least ten missed calls and a dozen
texts. The only number I recognize is Jordan’s. Nope, not right now, pal
I swipe left and put the phone back inside my jacket pocket. I am uninterested in anything except
getting another glass of Winter Storm.
There’s nothing like twenty-one-year-old Kentucky bourbon. It goes down sweet.
I motion to the bartender for a refill. He hustles over with the tall white bottle, and I watch as he
pours the deep amber liquid.
“Ahhhh,” I swallow and smile, enjoying the burn at the back of my throat.
I look around. The Eleganzia restaurant is the place to be seen, but there’s no one else here but me
at the bar. It’s the lull between lunch and dinner, so the place is almost empty.
I look past the low copper-clad wall that separates the bar from the dining room and see a few
celebrity wannabes still sitting at tables, hoping someone will notice them or give them a job.
The real celebrities have already had lunch with their agents, or managers, or studio heads, or with
members of their entourage. Whatever it is they’ve done, they’re gone now. Probably out getting that extra
shot of Botox, or working off that last cocktail at the gym, or screwing their assistant.
Like I said, whatever.
Looking out past the starlets-in-training, I start thinking again, and my grip tightens around my glass.
What possessed me to sign that contract? An independent movie isn’t going to bring my career back from
the free fall it’s in.
I take another swig. I'm definitely buzzed.
“Shit, man, finally,” Jordan grunts as he stomps over.
Damn, he’s found me.
He squeezes between the barstools and stands over me. “What the fuck? Like, what the literal fuck
are you doing?”
I motion the bartender for another and give Jordan a sideways look.
“Why would you intentionally blow off this meeting?”
Now I give him a smirk.
“No, I’m serious,” Jordan says, pointing his finger in my face.
“Sit down,” I say, and once again I catch the bartender's eye. “Pour my friend a drink, won’t you?”
I can hear Jordan let out a big breath, and I know he’s flaming furious. But frankly, at this point,
thanks to the Storm, I am feeling no pain. I’m happy to just sit here all afternoon.
Jordan swallows the shot in one gulp and then stares at the bottles lining the wall. I can see he’s
thinking about what he wants to say, and I don’t have to wait long before he lets it rip.
“Todd, it’s obvious you’ve slipped into some sort of idiot phase. Pretty soon, you won’t need to
disappear, ‘cause people are going to start acting like you’re invisible. It's never good when you don’t
show up for a meeting, and I’m telling you, this is catastrophic.”
Jordan is serving up all kinds of buzzkill, and I need to put an end to this inquisition.
“Jeez, calm down,” I say, “This is not the shit storm you think it is. People flake on meetings all the
time. Don’t worry about it.”
He gives me a stone-cold look, and it doesn’t matter what I say, because I can see he's not about to
let up. Christ, he’s ragging on me like he’s my mother.
I’m about to tell Jordan that it’s time for him to leave, when I hear a commotion at the maitre d’s
desk.
I swivel my seat to get a better look, and I see a sexy beauty with eyes blazing barreling toward me.
I stand and Jordan jumps from his barstool. She stops inches from my face, her nostrils flaring.
“You are not that important. The world does not owe you a favor, and the sooner you realize it, the
better off anyone forced to associate with you will be!”
I have no idea who this woman is, but there’s no doubt she is upset and hell bent on ripping me a
new asshole. That video is like a bad smell following me wherever I go. But at this point I have taken all
I’m going to take.
“Look, lady, I’m gonna tell you what I told the press. Fuck off!”
I expect her to march off, but instead she stands there looking a little nonplussed. Maybe this
gorgeous woman is nuts. Maybe I should be feeling sorry for her.
I look around for help, but Jordan grabs me by the arm, and clears his throat.
“Uh…Todd…I’d like you to meet Sophie Palmer, your director and leading lady.”
Well, color me caught. I smile sheepishly at her, but it’s not returned. I extend my hand, but she
slaps it away. This bitch is furious.
“Don’t you understand that you’re not the only one affected when you don’t show up?” Ms. Palmer
pokes her finger hard against my chest, and I step back an inch, trapped between her and the bar.
“I’ve spent time and money and called in any number of favors for this movie.” She brushes back
her hair with a flick of her hand.
For some reason, I find this woman's rant sexy. The angrier she gets, the more captivated I am.
“Look, this film is very important to me,” she continues, “and you just shit all over it by thinking
you’re a movie star who can get away with anything. Well, let me set you straight. That’s not how we’re
going to play this.”
Sophie turns to walk away, but I step in front of her. We're staring into each other’s eyes and she’s
not backing down.
I am transfixed. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but this woman has definitely got my undivided attention.
 Sophie


I’m not a violent person, not all, but right now I’m struggling not to punch or kick Todd to get his
attention.
I doubt he’s heard anything I’ve said to him, the arrogant pig.
“Todd? Earth to Todd? Mother of all mother’s give me mercy.” I ring my hands in frustration and
stomp my right foot onto the ground. My instincts had warned me - why didn’t I listen to them?
To make sure I maintain some semblance of self-control I keep my shaking hands by my side and
make a tight fist. I try and slow down my breathing. This man is really impossible. I can’t believe I’ve
found him sitting at the bar of The Extravaganza in the middle of the day.
It is beyond me why he is simply staring at me and not groveling at my feet, begging forgiveness.
Mental note to self, next time Alice and Erik want me to work with some rude, self-absorbed mega
star, say no. Yeah, sure, it was one of the investors demands – to bring Todd in so that the whole project
could turn a profit…but, really, is it worth it?
“We were about to take a seat in the restaurant Sophie. Why don’t you join us? You seem a little
upset. Hot and bothered is how I would describe you, actually.”
I am staring at a smiling Todd. Not a hint of remorse.
Is he taking the piss out of me, or is he serious? I can’t tell.
Unfortunately his sudden change to nice guy is taking the wind out of my sails. It took all my
courage to storm in here and confront the man and now my self-assurance is waning.
I reach for my gold pendant, a clapper board, a gift from dad for graduating from film school and
move it from side to side on its chain.
Without waiting for an answer Todd guides me to a table. He pulls out a chair for me and makes
sure I’m seated before he pushes my chair in a little.
If I had to put money on it, I would have said Todd is the last person to know about manners, and
here he is, being a perfect gentleman.
I sigh. More of my anger evaporates.
Todd has taken charge and that’s not how I had planned to rip shreds out of him. I was a savage
beast on the prowl and hungry for blood. Todd was my prey. He was meant to cower in front of me and
beg forgiveness.
Why didn’t he stick to the script? The man’s impossible. He’s writing his own and getting away
with it. My confidence is quickly nose-diving.
“Can I just say how sorry Todd is for missing the meeting,” Jordan says and I take the menu a
waiter is handing me.
“You see,” Jordan continues, “it was my fault. I did not synch our calendars and did not tell Todd
about the meeting. It won’t happen again.”
There’s a thud from under the table, a grunt from Todd and then a “no, it won’t happen again.”
I pretend not to have noticed anything. My head is hidden behind the menu. From what I can see
Todd leans forward a little to rub his shin. If looks could kill, Jordan would be nothing more than a pile of
ashes.
The waiter is back to take our order.
Words swim in front of me. Things are moving too fast. Exactly at what point in time had I reneged
on being the driver and agreed to back seat passenger position?
In my plan there was no invitation to sit with Todd, share a drink or anything of the sort. In my plan
there was a severe verbal attack followed by groveling, from Todd.
“I’ll just have water,” I mutter and hand the menu back to the waiter. He smiles and turns his
attention to Todd and Jordan.
Todd laughs at my order and says something about me being a Palmer and knowing how places like
this work.
My rage meter goes up a little.
“If I wanted to have something in this establishment I would pay for it myself, which is what we
Palmers are known for. The Palmers don’t need charity.” I hold my head up high.
Clearly I have been premature in thinking the man was kind of decent.
I clear my throat. Positive self-talk. You can do this, you can do this. I think of the little steam
engine.
“Listen here Todd.” I start and make my voice sound as icy as I can. “I did not come here to have
drinks with you or Jordan. It’s not a social occasion for me. I came here to make sure there’s not going to
be any further problem with you.” I take a deep breath; so far so good. “If you are going to work on this
film you need to give it one hundred percent. I expect all my team members to give me one hundred
percent.”
Todd is nodding and seems to be hanging on every word I say. I’m not sure, but deep down I feel as
if he’s mocking me.
“I promise Sophie,” he holds up his left hand and puts his right hand on his heart. I roll my eyes.
What a melodramatic drama queen. “I will give one hundred percent. I will not give you any problem and
I will be there from the first day till the last day.”
What an over spruced bush turkey.
“Them’s big words Todd Alexander,” I say and make to stand. “You better live up to them big
words, otherwise…” I don’t finish my sentence, partly because I’m not quite sure what to say and partly
because I need to leave…now.
I take slow deliberate steps away from Todd and Jordan. I don’t want to appear as if I’m running
away from them, even though that is exactly what I’m doing.
 By the time I reach the door my legs feel like jelly and I can’t wait to take a deep breath of fresh
air.
Once outside I lean against the cool bricks of the building. I close my eyes. Mentally I go over what
just happened. I don’t know if I can do this. A lone tear trickles down my cheek. My tongue catches it in
the corner of my mouth. The salty taste a bittersweet reminder.
Maybe I’m not as much a Palmer as I could be.
 Todd


Snap. Snap. Snap.
I pull into the studio lot and past the paparazzi. I remind myself to smile as I put my Porsche in
park.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Vultures, I think to myself as I turn off the ignition. They've run after me and now have me
surrounded. Just keep smiling.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
I get out of the car, keep my eyes focused straight ahead, and make my way to the Megastar Gate.
It’s only a few yards away, but I feel as though I'm running the gauntlet, practically forcing my way
forward. I just smile and keep my mouth shut, avoiding the barrage of questions from these bottom feeders
as they continue to snap pics and hurl questions.
“Is it true you’re being sued by the man you punched?”
“When do you start your anger management classes?”
“Did the studio insure the picture for one-hundred million because you’re a flight risk?”
Each question, more ridiculous than the next. These people really need to get a life, because I’m
sure as hell not giving them mine.
I reach the gate, and this walk of shame finally comes to an end. Mercifully, the guard recognizes
me and waves me through.
“Hello, Mr. Alexander.”
I’m greeted by a twenty-something woman, wearing a headset and carrying a clip board.
“I’m Marcey, the production manager.”
I shake her hand and see Jordan jogging toward me.
“Hey!” he calls out. I nod and we wait for him to catch up. “I’ll take you to your trailer and you can
drop off your things. Then we’ll head on over to hair and make-up,” Marcey says in a crisp, professional
tone.
I follow her lead and Jordan falls in step. “So, you excited?” he asks.
“As if.” I groan. “This isn’t my first movie, you do know that.”
“Listen, Todd, we didn’t get off to the best start on this project,” he leans in close and whispers.
“Let’s not continue in that vein, OK?”
I roll my eyes. First, I gotta deal with the sharks outside, and now, I got my best friend and PR man
telling me how to act. It’s not yet 6:30 in the morning. What’s next?
I get to my trailer, and thankfully a production assistant hands me a triple espresso, just the way I
like it. I smile and take a sip.
Ahhh, much better. I’m getting my groove on. I look around to get my bearings.
The trailer is smaller than I’m used to, and it has fewer amenities, with only one couch and a small
TV, but it will have to do.
Jordan shoos everyone out and lets Marcey know we’ll be at the hair and make-up trailer in a
minute.
I give Jordan a What’s up? shoulder shrug. “If you’re worried that I won’t be cool, give it a rest.
I’ll be a good boy,” I say, crossing my heart.
“I just want to make sure you understand that this movie hasn’t even shot yet, and there’s already an
Oscar buzz. Important people love this script. It’s the hottest property around and the fact that Sophie
Palmer is attached, well―”
I give him my best raised eyebrow. The one that says, You’re overselling and it’s not necessary,
I’m here. I’m a sure bet.
“Wait, let me finish before you act like you’ve heard it all before,” Jordan protests. “This could
really break your career wide open. So, if you have any kind of problem, let me know before you let your
temper take over.”
Now I give him the Who, me? look.
Jordan doesn’t find this amusing. “Promise me you won’t get stupid. That’s all I ask.”
I’m saved by the knock on the door, and Marcey calls out, “Mr. Alexander, they’re ready for you.”
“Call me Todd,” I say as I open the door, “I’m ready, lead the way.”
I admit I’m a little apprehensive when I sit in the make-up chair. I’ve been in enough box office hits
that I’ve earned the right to have the make-up and hair person of my choice. But this is an indie, and they
could never afford the three-thousand-dollar-a-day price tag my stylist comes with.
So they gave me Lloyd.
Okay, I say to myself, let’s see Lloydy-boy do his stuff.
I’m facing the mirror while he’s working on my hair, but I can’t see a thing, because not only is he
standing right in front of me, his enormous frame covers the width of the mirror.
I just try to relax, but that's proving to be difficult, because Jordan is talking my ear off and Lloyd is
slightly heavy-handed with the patchouli oil this morning, and I’m now concentrating on breathing through
my mouth. Not easy.
After what seems like an hour, Lloyd adds one more spritz of hair spray and with a flourish says,
“Tada! Gorgeous!”
He steps away and I can’t fucking believe what I’m looking at. I yank the black nylon cape from
around my neck and throw it to the floor.
“What the fuck is this?” I yell, “If I wanted to look like a hipster, the script would call for a hipster.
Have you even read the script? Do you have any idea what character I’m playing?”
 Lloyd looks scared shitless. But I really don’t care.
“You just spent forty-minutes making me look like a clown. And we all know I’m supposed to look
good. And that should have taken you all of five minutes!”
“I…I’m…I…” Lloyd stammers, but nothing is really coming out.
“Hey, Todd, calm down.” Jordan puts his hand on my shoulder, but I shake him off.
“I will not calm down.”
“So…sorry…I…”
“Oh, just shut the fuck up and get out of my face. You’re fired!”
“Todd, you can’t do that,” Jordan says, and positions himself between me and Lloyd.
“Lloyd, just give us a minute.”
“Oh, hell no. We don’t need a minute, he’s out!”
Lloyd scurries out of the trailer as I go to the sink and stick my hair under the faucet to wash out the
goop. I hear Jordan yelling, but I can’t make out the words over the running water.
“What?” I yell back.
“You’re barely over the last shit storm you created, and now you’re starting another one. Not an
hour ago, you promised me if there was a problem, you’d come to me first.”
I get a towel and dry my hair. “You were here. You witnessed first-hand the disaster that was
created. Why didn’t you say something?”
I reach for the blow dryer. It’s time for me to take matters into my own hands. Jordan won’t stop
staring at me, and I don’t give a flying rat's ass.
I’m right. And everyone else is beyond wrong.
I continue to style my hair and scream over the sound of the dryer. “He’s out. That’s it. Him or me.
There’s no more to discuss.”
Jordan turns and leaves the trailer without uttering another word.
No one fucks with Todd Alexander.
Or with Todd Alexander’s hair, for that matter.
 Sophie


“Cut,” yells Mason my assistant director and I breathe a sigh of relief.
I hear clapping from the rest of the crew, and Mason is giving me the thumbs up. With a slight bow
of my head I walk off set.
Todd has been hovering at the far end of the studio. The second my eyes spot him, a few unwanted
butterflies take up residence in the pit of my stomach. I’m not sure why, but the fact that he’s watching puts
me on edge.
Then, to my horror, he seems to be making his way toward Alice and me slowly, and deliberately. I
don’t know what to make of it. I can’t judge his facial expression, but he’s not smiling.
“Great stuff, Sophie,” Alice pats me on the back. “I love the way you shine on camera. You literally
light up the screen.”
I shake my head and laugh.
“Mason’s been in your ear, has he?”
My best friend puts her hands on her hips and stares at me, mouth agape.
“How could you say such an awful thing?”
We both giggle.
“Here comes Mr. Broody,” whispers Alice and I have to agree. Todd looks anything but happy.
“Now,” Alice holds her clipboard in front of my nose. “This is your next scene. It’s a bit longer
than the previous one, and you have a few more lines. It’s also the first time we’ll introduce your new
companion.”
Alice flicks over the page.
“Where is he?” I look around.
“Out the back. His owner said he wanted Goliath to rest as much as possible before the scene.”
I chuckle. Goliath sounded about as temperamental as the best of the main stars.
“Are all standard poodles so delicate, or does it go with the name Goliath?”
Alice shrugs.
“You’ll be alright then, with the lines?”
“I’ll give it my best.”
It’s my turn to give her the thumbs up.
“Do you know what his problem is?” I thrust my chin in the direction of the sourpuss Todd.
“Bad hair day, I think,” whispers Alice. “I hear he fired the hair stylist this morning.”
He what? I stop myself from making an outburst, as Todd is now standing in front of me.
His hands applaud softly, and he smiles. He even bows his head a little.
“Well done Ms. Palmer,” he says.
 Suddenly my mouth is dry, and those pesky butterflies have multiplied to about a hundred.
“Thank you.”
I don’t know what else to say.
“Is there anything I can get you?”
Is this Todd Alexander being nice? I furrow my brow. A nice, steaming cup of strong, black coffee
would be awesome, with something sweet and fatty, but my senses are on high alert.
Why would superstar Todd, offer to get me something? I’m sure there’s some underling in the
production team—our general dogsbody—who will get me a cup of coffee when I have my first break.
I decide to play it safe.
“No, thank you.” I try and sound cool, calm and collected.
I still can’t believe he fired the hair stylist without talking to anyone about it first.
“I’ll be at the back of the set,” Alice interrupts us. “I think Mason’s ready for you.”
I nod.
There’s something I need to do before I go back to filming.
Before I follow Alice, I pull Todd to the side. I don’t want others to listen in.
“I hear you fired our hair stylist?”
Todd shrugs.
“He was no good.”
Anger wells up in me. This man really is impossible.
“It’s your first day here and you fire the stylist. It doesn’t work that way.”
I know I’m yelling but I cannot control my temper any longer.
“News flash, Todd Alexander. You can’t just fire someone on your first day. No, let me rephrase
that. You do not have the authority to fire anyone on any given day. Basta.”
Both hands are on my hips. I’m breathing hard, as if I’ve just sprinted an eight hundred meter race.
Todd’s expression is difficult to read. Is he looking at me bemused or is he getting angry?
“The man hasn’t got a clue,” Todd explains.
I hadn’t thought him to be stupid. Surely there’s a brain somewhere in that pretty head of his?
“I don’t care,” I start again. “We are not firing and hiring people simply because we feel like it.
This is not a big budget production. We’re all doing our best here, including that hair stylist.”
Todd points to his hair.
“But he got my hair wrong. He’s useless.”
I roll my eyes skyward. It’ll be a miracle if I survive this film with Todd Alexander in it.
Suddenly, I have a whole new level of respect for my father who has been a director for a lot
longer than me. I’m sure he must have worked with some difficult actors in his time. Dad must be a saint, I
decide, before I turn my attention back to Todd.
“Look. Tell the man how you want your hair done, and I’m sure he’ll be able do it. It’s called
communication. You should try it sometime.”
Todd shakes his head.
“Why should I have to tell someone how to do their job? That’s pointless. If the man doesn’t know
how to do my hair, he’s got to go.”
I stomp my foot. A rather childish act, I know, but I need some way to vent out my frustration other
than by punching Todd right between the eyes.
“Listen to me, you stubborn, insolent, arrogant excuse for a man. You’re not firing the hair stylist or
anyone else for that matter. Just because you don’t get your own way, doesn’t mean other people have to
suffer.”
Todd’s stare takes my breath away. I cringe inwardly, and am reminded of the restaurant scandal. Is
he going to hit me after showering me with a barrage of abuse?
Relief washes over me when Todd turns and walks out, without so much as uttering another word.
When he’s gone, I breathe again.
Only now do I realize my whole body is shaking.
 Todd


I storm to my trailer and slam the door behind me.
“Fuck this! Who does she think she is?” I mutter to myself and look for something to throw.
I know I’m being a bit childish, acting like a five-year-old whose favorite toy has been taken from
him, but heck, I’m a superstar. I’m allowed to have tantrums.
“I mean, who stands up for a useless member of the team, and who wears their hair up the way she
does?” I’m on a roll now.
I find my putter and golf ball, and then proceed to practice my putting. I’m not a golfer, but trying to
get the little ball into the hole is oddly satisfying when I’m in a rage.
“What are you raving about?”
I don’t see Jordan come in, who appears in front of me out of nowhere.
I point my club at him.
“That stuck-up prima donna, prancing around, and calling herself director and main star of the film,
Sophie.” I try to slow my breathing.
Anger swishes around me like water in a whirlpool.
Someone has to stand up for actor’s rights.
Jordan takes the club from me and hands me a triple espresso, muttering something about caffeine
possibly not being what I should be having.
“Why are you in such a rage at this time of day?”
Despite my own inner turmoil, I have to admire Jordan. Good old dependable Jordan who
personifies calmness.
“Sophie,” I growl, savoring the bitter taste of the extra strong coffee. The way my day is going, I’ll
need at least five of these before lunch.
“She’s a typical woman. There’s just no reasoning with her, and she’s made up her mind before
even listening to my side of the story.”
I see Jordan raise his eyebrows. He gives me the ‘what the fuck are you rambling on about man’
look and I slump onto my couch.
“She thinks I shouldn’t have fired the hair stylist.”
“And?” Jordan asks.
Is it just me or is he extra slow today?
“And her solution, is for me to tell him how I want my hair done.”
“Again, I can’t see the problem.”
I throw my head back in frustration. Why do imbeciles surround me today? Surely, I can’t have
been that bad in my former lives to deserve this?
 “Man,” I breathe out long and slow. “What’s the fucking point of telling someone how to do their
job? Isn’t it simpler to fire the guy, and get someone remotely competent?”
“Todd, stop being so precious.” Jordan is very matter of fact. “Sophie is the director, and therefore
you do as you are told.”
My protest dies on my lips with Jordan holding up his hand.
“Zip it, buddy. You’re not really in a position to be making demands. I’m trying to save your bacon
here, and get you back in the limelight for the right reason, avoiding the wrong ones. And what is your
thanks? You come storming in here, making ridiculous demands. You should be groveling at my feet, and
worshiping the ground I walk on.”
Jordan’s outburst stuns me so much, I don’t know what to say.
I swallow my non-existent argument, and go to my personal dresser where I pull out gel, comb and
hairspray. Without another word, I style my hair my way, making sure it still looks good.
There’s a knock on the door and I hear Jordan open it.
“Mr. Alexander is required on set,” says a faceless voice from the door.
I see Jordan look at me and I hold up two fingers.
“Todd will be there in a couple of minutes.”
I look at my reflection. My hair is nowhere near as good as when my own stylist does it, but hey,
it’s a lot better than before.
As I step out leave my trailer, Jordan stops me.
“You need this film. No more tantrums.”
Without a reply, I stride toward the set where they are shooting.
What the fuck does Jordan know? I don’t need this film. They need me. I’m their draw card.
Without me, this sorry little low budget film would be nothing. And I’ll make sure, I do things my way.
“If you start the scene over here,” Sophie points to the far end of the made up hallway. “You’ll have
just walked in through the front door.”
Without a word, I take up my position. For a few seconds, I close my eyes and visualize my
character. I do this before every shoot. It helps me get in character.
Filming starts, and I become my character, my body just a vessel.
“Cut,” yells Sophie, and I hear shouts of appreciation from some of the onlookers every film has.
“Where’s my towel?” I bark at someone standing to the side of the set. The boy flinches as if I’d
just poked him with a cattle prod.
“I—” he stammers, and I feel my fuse is just about to explode.
“Well, don’t just stand there like you’ve grown roots or something, go and get it from the trailer.”
The youth scurries off.
“Jordan?” I call and look around. “Where the fuck is Jordan?”
No one answers.
 “Someone get my PA,” I demand to no one in particular, and I’m pleased to see someone scurries
off to obey my command.
“A chair. I need a chair.” I growl at the junior who is returning with my towel. Promptly the boy
disappears and comes back with my request.
Jordan appears and takes my towel. I was just going to ask the little runt to wet it for me, the way I
always have it during filming to keep me cool.
“I’ll do that,” Jordan says and leaves again.
Furrowing my brow, I slump back in my chair.
“Todd,” Sophie calls.
I saunter back to my set. We shoot the next scene.
“Five-minute break everyone,” calls Sophie after the take.
“Hey, you,” I call out to someone who doesn’t seem to be doing anything. “Get me a double
espresso and don’t be long about it.”
Someone offers me one of those plastic cups of pretend coffee, but I shake my head.
“I’d rather drink poison,” I grumble and wait for my espresso.
With my cup of coffee in hand, I look around for Jordan. What’s with him today, why isn’t he here
when I need him?
“Hey, you,” I shout to the runner. “Get me some biscuits from my trailer.”
“We have some, right over by the little kitchen,” pipes up another faceless voice and rage builds in
me like a storm.
“I want my biscuits, not some cheap shit the director bought for the commoners.”
I know I sound fucking salty today, but I just can’t help it.
When the boy arrives with my tin of goodies, I take a look inside and shut it again. My favorites
aren’t there.
“Jordan!” I shout, wondering how the hell I’m going to get through this day in hell.
 Sophie


My reflection tells me I’m every bit as tired as I look. It’s been a long day, after all.
Day four of shooting wrapped up just before midnight, and all I’m looking forward to now is a hot
bath and a nice glass of wine.
I yawn and continue to remove the make up on my face.
“Hey gorgeous,” Alice comes into my trailer. I hate the way she’s still all bouncy and looks terrific.
“You ok?”
I nod and reach for some cotton buds.
“Great day today.” Alice leans against my dresser. “You should be really excited. It’s all coming
along nicely.”
I gnaw at my bottom lip. She’s right, so far so good. I don’t like to tempt fate though, so I choose my
words carefully. Dad was a great believer in never being too optimistic before the product is in the bag.
“It’s going along ok, I guess.”
Alice laughs.
“Like father, like daughter.”
I smile.
“I’ve got a date with Eric,” Alice changes the subject. “Will you be ok if I leave now?’
I feel a rush of gratitude for my friend. It’s nice to know someone’s looking after me.
“Sure,” I reassure her. “I’ve just got to take my make-up off and I’m out of here. You two lovebirds
go and enjoy yourselves.”
Alice gives me a kiss on the cheek.
“Go,” I repeat and watch her head to the door. “And Alice, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
We both laugh.
And then she’s gone.
Once my make-up is gone, I change into t-shirt and jeans and leave. I turn out the lights of my trailer
and lock the door.
It feels good to breathe the cool, crisp air of the night. After having been stuck inside all day,
breathing in air-conditioned air, this is refreshing.
Slowly I walk to my car.
A low growl has me stopping in my tracks. At first, I’m not quite sure what sort of noise it is, but
then I see a Porsche. Now the horn honks.
It’s Todd. He has his window down and gives me a wave.
My heart beats a little faster.
I quickly looked around. The car park is deserted. What’s he doing here? I try not to show any sign
of nervousness.
The sports car draws level with me.
“Thought the director would be the last person to leave the studio.”
My imagination threatens to run away with me. Is he really smiling genuinely at me?
I try and gauge the distance to my car. I might just make it, if in case I have to run for it.
“You are right.” I hope my voice does not betray my emotional turmoil.
“Don’t think I’m here to offer you a lift, Ms. Palmer.”
He enunciates every letter of my name.
My racing heart is joined by millions of butterflies.
“I know that a Palmer always makes sure they have their own mode of transport.”
Is he laughing at me? Slowly the butterflies recede and my heart beats almost normal again.
His comment riles me. Todd Alexander really knows how to push my buttons.
I decide the best course of action is to simply ignore him. A reply would only fuel the fire and lead
to who knows where.
I make a beeline for my car, taking large strides away from the actor and his toy.
Todd is calling out something to me.
I can’t hear him.
Snippets of words like “know,” “let,” “my” and “think” is all I can make out.
I keep walking. I just want to get home and relax before tomorrow—no today’s—shooting starts
again.
The Porsche seems to be following me and Todd is still shouting something.
I slow down my steps, hesitating.
“What’s your answer?”
Todd is leaning with his left arm on the open window.
“My answer to what?”
If he thought I had heard anything, he’s mistaken.
“I wanted to know if you would come to have dinner with me.”
Emotions flood me, mixed emotions. My instant reaction is to say no. But something tells me to stop
and think about my answer.
As if sensing my hesitation, Todd’s smile widens.
“Come on, I’m only asking you for dinner, not a commitment for life.”
I chuckle. Who knew Todd could be funny? So far, we’ve only seen the aggressive, angry Todd.
Still, I wonder how good of a move it is to agree to this dinner. I nearly thought of it in terms of a
dinner date, although he hasn’t called it that.
“So, how about it? Dinner? With me?”
Before I can stop myself, I nod.
 “Ok.” I add, and wonder how wise this decision will turn out to be.
I expected Todd to now drive off, victory in the bag, but he doesn’t.
In a flash, he is by my side and escorts me the last few steps to my car where he promptly holds the
door open for me after I unlock it.
I slide into the driver’s seat.
For the first time, I’m acutely aware of his presence. He’s damn good looking and I have to say he
smells delicious.
I turn the key.
“Thank you.” I smile and give him a little wave.
To my further surprise, Todd takes a little bow before he too goes back to his car.
My fingers drum on the steering wheel as I make my way out of the car park.
Was that wise, Ms. Palmer? my inner voice wants to know. Of course it was, I reassure it and
myself.
I only agreed to have dinner with him.
Dinner will give me the opportunity to mingle with one of my leading actors of the film. And
mingling with the actors is a good thing. Mingling allows us to pick each other’s brain—and other things
too, a voice from somewhere pipes up.
Fool. You are a fool—that sensible part in me keeps on voicing its opinion.
If I’m honest, I have no idea why I agreed to this dinner. He must have caught me off guard. After a
long day, I’m just too tired to make proper decisions.
Admit it Sophie, he’s hot and you wouldn’t mind getting to know him, my other voice interjects,
and I decide to stop dwelling on the topic of Todd and the upcoming dinner.
Que Sera, Sera—what happens, happens.
 Todd


To my own surprise, my heart is beating a little faster than usual when the doorbell rings, and I stop
in front of the hallway mirror to make sure my hair looks good.
If there’s one thing I hate, it’s bad hair days. My hair is my pride and joy. I still can’t get over the
fact that the hair dude on the film set has not been fired.
As I unlock the door, I take a deep breath to calm down before I open it. I can’t understand my own
reaction to my visitor. Usually I’m cool, calm and collected, not a nervous wreck.
“Hey,” I smile and take a step to the side.
Sophie looks stunning. My eyes take in her legs that are barely covered in an ultra-short miniskirt,
and her white blouse, buttoned up to just the right spot. I can make out the pink lace of her bra. Quickly, I
look her in the eyes. She’s smiling.
“Glad you came,” I say more to break the silence than anything else, but as I say it, I realize it’s the
truth—I’m glad she came.
“Come into my castle.”
She laughs, and I bathe in her smile and eyes. Her face lights up when she smiles.
“Doesn’t look much like a castle,” she replies and follows me into my kingdom.
“Fair maiden,” I hold up my right. “Do not let your eyes deceive you. Have you not heard the saying
‘not everything is as it first appears’?”
Genuine belly laughter.
“I can’t say I have.”
I turn toward her and put my hands on my hips.
“And you call yourself a creative person.”
She just shrugs.
“Please take a seat while I prepare dinner.”
Gracefully, Sophie sits on my white leather lounge. One leg slides casually over the other. Her foot
taps to some unheard beat in the air. She leans back into the plush black cushions and I wish Blake could
paint her. The man sure knows how to capture a moment.
“So.” I pull out my phone.
“You prepare dinner with your phone?” She raises her eyebrows and her voice sounds like she’s
mocking me.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
This has her bursting out in another fit of laughter. She shakes her head.
“I usually prepare dinner in the kitchen without the phone, just using pots and pans. You’ve heard of
those?”
 I pretend to think before I shake my head.
“Can’t say I have. As I was saying, for dinner I shall get us some take away.”
“I hadn’t really expected you to cook.” She laughs.
Crushed, I hold up my hands.
“What? An insult in the first five minutes of being in my home? I can’t believe it.”
Sophie shakes her head.
“Ok. So, what do you fancy?”
“You’re the master chef, you decide.”
I like this girl. I press speed dial. Naturally, my favorite takeaway place is on top of the list. After
I’ve ordered, I head to the bar to prepare us a couple of drinks.
Sophie has left her spot on the couch and is meandering through my living room.
“I love these paintings.”
Sophie is standing in front of one of my favorite pictures.
“Look at the colors and emotions in this one. Reds, yellows and oranges combine in a dance of
fury. Who painted these?”
“One of my childhood friends, Blake—he’s a painter. These are part of a series.”
“Wow.” Sophie sounds impressed.
“He’s very talented.” I agree and hand her a glass with a pre-dinner drink.
“What about your parents? They must be very proud.”
I lower my eyes and take a sip of my drink. Parents. Feelings. Touchy subjects I don’t discuss with
anyone. And yet, there’s something about this woman that compels me to share my past with her.
“My parents were perfect.” I start, but I have to take a breath to keep going.
“A skiing accident took their lives away, just after my first big movie success.”
It’s difficult to keep going. I haven’t told many people about this.
“I’m so sorry.” She’s put a hand in front of her mouth. “I had no idea. I shouldn’t have asked. Please
forgive me.”
Her compassion touches me. She seems to genuinely care.
I clear my throat.
“After they died, I think I caught a bit of attitude. You know, dealing with the death of your parents
at a fairly young age leaves its mark. I felt treated badly, and so I acted out.”
Sophie nods and I think there’s a tear in her eyes.
“Oh, Todd. I can’t begin to imagine what that must feel like.”
Thankfully, we are interrupted by the delivery of our food. I don’t go for all that touchy-feely crap.
When I open the box of goodies, Sophie laughs.
“You go for cheesy, fatty food?”
I nod as I bite into my cheeseburger and slurp on my milkshake.
 “Comfort food. I like my comfort food.”
Briefly, I wonder if Sophie is the type of chick to be on one of those new age diets, the one where
you can barely eat anything other than bottled organic water. Just then, Sophie takes a bite of her own
burger, a little bit of fat running down her cheek as she bites into it.
I lean forward and wipe the trail off her chin. She holds still and our eyes lock until she looks
away.
“This is good,” she says with her mouthful of food.
After her burger is gone, she grabs a buffalo wing and resumes her tour of the room. She stops in
front of my movie and CD collection. Randomly, she pulls out movies, making little comments here and
there, until she stops and holds one up in the air.
“So,” she looks at me. “You’ve been researching the director of your current film.”
I smile.
“I had to. You gotta know what you’re getting into.”
She shakes her head.
“Todd Alexander, you really are very different from how the press presents you.”
I take a little bow.
“I hope that’s a compliment.”
Sophie chuckles and puts the film back.
“My, my, you have more than one of my films. You really have done your homework.”
I shrug.
“I had to see how good you are.”
Her right eyebrow arches a little.
“I knew you must be good because you are a Palmer, but boy, I had no idea how good you really
are. Your last one, The Streets of Brooklyn, really spoke to me. I was in tears by the end.”
Now she’s embarrassed. Her cheeks are a light tinge of red, and all I want to do is go and kiss her.
“You are full of surprises…from the food you like to the way you approach your work.”
“I hope they are pleasant surprises,” I say and see her face go even redder.
 Sophie


Talk about putting my foot in it—and not just a dainty little foot. No, more like a giant elephant foot.
“I can’t believe you did your homework.”
I don’t like eating humble pie, but then again, I’m not one to shy away from admitting being wrong.
And maybe I was wrong about Todd.
Todd just shrugs.
“I didn’t do any research on you.”
I feel the need to be honest. He was honest with me; it is only fair I extend him the same courtesy.
“I haven’t even watched any of your films.”
No point in lying about this.
To my surprise, he laughs.
“I’m sure, you thought the media footage of me lately was all you needed to know.”
Right now, a tomato wouldn’t be as red as I am. I chew my bottom lip. Suddenly, I feel about as
small as a snail—no, probably smaller.
“Well,” I try and think of something to say that is remotely polite. Alice’s words come back to me.
What had she said, something about listening to his side of the story?
“So,” I start and play with the gold pendant around my neck. “What did actually happen at the
restaurant?”
Todd sighs.
“If I tell you what you saw on the news was not the whole story, you’ll think I’m bullshitting you.”
I shake my head.
“No. No, I won’t.” I stop. It’s true; I know there’s always more to these sensational stories than
meet the eye. I should know, they often do not tell the whole story.
“Please tell me what happened.”
I’ve gone to sit on his lounge. Since I’m in bare feet, I slide my legs under me. Todd comes to sit
next to me. My breathing increases ever so slightly.
“The man was actually at the restaurant with a woman,” starts Todd. “I’m not sure if she was his
wife. But there they were, enjoying a meal, when suddenly, he picked up his glass and threw the water
into the face of the woman.”
I suck in my breath. How awful. I can picture the scene vividly.
“The water is dripping off the woman’s face and onto her lap. But he does not stop there. He stands
up, leans on the table, and proceeds to yell at the top of his lungs at this poor woman, who looked like a
drowning poodle. Eventually, I think she could stand it no longer and stood to leave. At about this time, I
had enough too and confronted the little weasel.”
 I shake my head in disbelief.
“Why didn’t someone throw him out before you interfered,” the words are out before I can stop
them.
“Sorry,” I mutter. It sounds as if I’m being critical and I don’t mean to be.
But he doesn’t seem to be offended by it.
“Good question,” Todd holds up his hands. “I heard someone say something about the little man
being related to the owner. But hey, your guess is as good mine.”
I take a sip of my drink and shake my head.
“If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s men being aggressive toward women.” Todd pauses and
stares at his hands. “I mean, if you don’t want to be with the woman, leave. It’s a free country.”
“I wonder why the press isolated the incident to make you look bad?”
Despite my better judgment, I find myself warming to Todd Alexander. I’m remarkably comfortable
in his apartment, which is not over the top, as I was expecting.
“Goes with the bad boy image, I guess,” he offers a crooked smile and shrugs. Suddenly, he looks
like a lost little boy and I resist the urge to rub my finger over his cheek and tell him things will be all
right.
“It’s not fair though, is it?”
“But that’s life, and you get used to it. It never said anywhere it was going to be fair.”
My gaze finds one of the paintings. It draws me in. The colors are amazing. There are swirls of
blues, purples and whites.
“I’m sorry about the way I’ve treated some of the crew, and about firing the hair stylist.”
Todd’s remorse pulls me out of my trance.
I turn toward him, although I would like to keep looking at the painting.
“It’s just,” he runs his own hands through his hair, as if searching for inspiration. “I don’t know how
to explain it properly, but if you are too soft on people all the time, they don’t live up to their best.”
Silence.
I try not to move. I’m hanging on every word he has to say.
“We seem to live in a time where you’re not allowed to call black, black. We avoid conflicts.
People don’t give their best because being ordinary, according to many, is being extraordinary. But I think
if you ruffle feathers from time to time, and say it how it is, people will be better.”
I nod.
“I know what you mean.”
My parents both called a spade a spade, they never believed in praising where praise was not due.
Todd might just have a point.
“What about you?”
The question throws me off.
 “What about me?”
“You must have had your fair share of interesting times.”
I swirl my answers around my head, working out what and how much I’m going to tell him.
“It’s hard being a Palmer, that’s for sure.” I start and see him relax into the couch next to me.
“I got big boots to fill.” I continue. “Everyone expects me to follow in dad’s footsteps, and since
he’s one of the greats,” I hold out my hands, “it’s expected I will do well too, if not great. My destiny is
decided before I can create it.” I shake my head.
Speaking about it makes me realize how much pressure there is.
“That’s why it’s important to me for this film to be a success.” I pause again. “I don’t think it’s so
much about showing other people, it’s more about proving to dad I can be great.”
“Pays to have a thick skin in this industry,” says Todd and smiles at me.
I sigh.
“I guess so.”
“And to have a thick skin, you have to act like you have one.”
I raise an eyebrow in question.
“Well, fake it, ‘til you make it. The media portrays me like I don’t give a fuck, and I don’t, most of
the time.” He laughs at himself and I join in.
“This is great. You know I’ve never told anyone else so much about me before, other than Jordan of
course. You’ve got ammunition now, Ms. Palmer.”
His forefinger touches the tip of my nose.
I shake my head and find my nerve endings are tingling.
I may have misjudged Todd Alexander.
 Sophie


I feel his eyes travel over me, eyes full of lust and desire. As they do, my nerve endings scream for
his touch, and it takes all my self-control not to throw myself at him.
Todd leans toward me, his movements slow and deliberate.
“Has anyone else ever told you how beautiful you are?”
As he speaks, the index finger of his right hand is drawing little circles around my neck. My skin
burns from his touch. Ripples of ecstasy travel through me.
I want to throw myself on top of him. I have never known such intense desire before. There’s a
hungry and ferocious beast inside me.
I shake my head. My throat is too dry to speak. It’s as if I’m just returning from forty-two days in the
desert.
Todd smiles. I love the dimples in each cheek. I imagine kissing him there, and other places.
His finger now trails along my collarbone and down my chest. I start to breathe heavily as if I’m
running a marathon. My body aches for his touch. Longing spreads through me.
I’m amazed at myself for being so ready to fuck Todd Alexander.
“In fact, you are so beautiful I don’t know what words to use to describe it. Like a rose in full
bloom…you light up the room when you enter it.” He sounds a little hoarse.
I smile. My eyes devour him. My gaze travels along his chest and down to the bulge in his pants.
I lick my lips in anticipation. Surely this kind of talk can only lead to one thing.
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I whisper. I tilt my head back a little. He can have whatever part
he wants of me, and he can have it now.
Todd chuckles.
“I can assure you I have never said this to anyone.” His tone is a little more serious.
I don’t care. I want to scream at him, but no sound other than a little purr escapes my lips. The
tingling of anticipation is building.
His finger makes its way to my lips. Butterfly-like, they travel across my chest, down toward the
gap between my breasts. A little moan escapes my lips.
A hand pushes itself under my skirt, finding my wet pussy. My thong is no barrier for his determined
fingers.
Suddenly, he stops. I feel as if my favorite toy has been taken from me.
What the fuck is going on?
Before I can complain, he grabs me by the wrists and pulls me off the couch.
“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” says Todd as he heads toward a room at the back of his
apartment. Like a willing slave, I follow. In a way, I have no choice as he’s still holding onto my wrists.
 Desire is rushing through me, followed by lust.
The moment we’re through the door, he pushes me against the wall. His actions are rough and
almost brutal. Taken by surprise, I feel my heartbeat quicken.
With one hand he pins me against the wall, both arms up over my head, as the other explores under
my skirt. My flimsy thong is ripped off me with one deft move of his hands, and then his fingers find my
wet opening.
At the same time, his lips crush down on mine, demanding, forceful, and full of passion. His tongue
forces its way into my mouth where it intertwines with mine. I’m crushed by his weight, and I want more,
so much more.
If I could move, I would use my hands to explore his chest, six-pack, and ass. But Todd is still
pinning my arms up above my head.
I wiggle my hips from side to side. I want to get closer to him. I want to feel him.
Suddenly his fingers leave my wet pussy and lift my right leg. Somehow Todd gets his pants off and
pushes his bulging cock against my pussy. His tongue is dancing with mine, lips crushed against mine.
My chest is heaving. I try and thrust my pelvis toward him. If only his manhood wasn’t still
constrained by those boxers.
I groan again, this time a little louder. Todd releases my leg and pushes me onto his oversized king
bed. As soon as I land on it, his hands rip off my skirt.
Next he tears at my blouse. Buttons pop off and land all around us. Then he’s sitting on top of me,
pinning my arms above my head again. His weight is just below my pelvis, on my slightly apart thighs.
I can feel my pussy begging him to do something to it.
His free hand pushes my bra cups off my breasts, and my already-stiff nipples harden some more, if
that’s even possible. Once freed, his fingers pinch and massage my breasts and nipples.
He stares at me; I lower my gaze. I want him. I want him so bad.
Trying to take some control over what’s happening, I wiggle my hips and push my pelvis toward
him. I know he can see my exposed pussy.
Todd leans forward, his face only inches from mine now.
“You trying to get away from me, are you?”
His voice is suddenly deeper and very serious.
I shake my head, but I continue my struggle. Shifting my hips beneath him allows me to feel his
cock, which is still trapped in his boxers. I long to touch, free it, and feel it inside me.
I want to wrap my fingers around it and caress it.
“I think you are my little slut, aren’t you?”
No one has ever talked to me like this during sex before. It turns me on. I try and free my arms.
As I do, so my breasts bounce from side to side.
Before I know what is happening, Todd flips me onto my back. With one swift move, he unclips my
bra and pulls it out from under me.
The material scrapes along my naked flesh. I squeal.
I can feel his muscular body on me. He whispers into my ear.
“Naughty girls deserve a spanking…and I think you’ve been naughty, Sophie Palmer.”
His hand smacks my ass without warning. One, two, three times it hits bare flesh.
Then, as sudden as he started, he stops. His finger moves along my inner thigh toward my pussy.
Snaillike, it traces a trail all around my clit, never touching it.
“Please,” I moan, and the fingers stop.
Smack. His hand hits my ass again. Short and hard, the palm of his hand collides with my naked
flesh.
Both my ass cheeks are burning with pain and desire.
His fingers find my wetness again. Using my own juices, he traces more trails between my legs and
onto my hot butt.
I wriggle beneath him again. I don’t think I can stand much more of this.
My brain has turned to mush. There are no coherent thoughts left in me. Briefly I wonder if one can
die of too much pleasure, and just then Todd’s hands assault my ass again.
My pussy is screaming for his cock to enter it and fill it.
I’m a mess of lust and desire.
“Are you going to continue to be naughty, Sophie Palmer?” His voice is in my ear again. My ass
cheeks are burning.
I shake my head.
“Good,” he murmurs and strokes my back with the tips of his fingers. Electric shock waves pulse
through my body.
“For a reward, I’ll let you take off my boxers.”
He gets off me, and I get onto my knees in front of him. Slowly my fingers hook into the elastic band
before I slide them down. His cock bounces out as soon as it can.
I lick my lips in anticipation. On the top of it, I see a few drops of precum.
I savor the view. The knowledge I’m responsible for his huge hard-on turns me on even more, if
that’s possible.
Slowly, I lean forward and place a little kiss on the tip of his dick. Just gently, my lips touch the
skin before I pull back.
It’s Todd’s turn to groan.
My hands grab onto his cock and trace little lines along it from tip to base and back again.
I stop and admire the size of his cock. It looks so big and delicious. I breathe slowly, close my
eyes, and take the tip of it into my mouth.
Todd’s hands grab my hair.
 “Take it all,” he groans, but I ignore him.
I’m in charge now. I leave my lips wrapped around the top of it and gently suck on it, as if it is a
lollipop.
At the same time, both my hands play with his balls. They are soft and warm, and I know just what
I’ll do with them next.
“Come on, babe,” Todd murmurs, “take it all.” His hands try and force my face toward the base of
his cock.
I pull off him.
“What the fuck?” he groans, and I smile.
“Who’s the bad boy now?” I purr and let my hands wrap around his cock.
“Someone needs another spanking,” glowers Todd, and I laugh.
I change tact. I want to prolong the moment he enters my pussy as long as possible.
I let go of him and grab my breasts. I take his cock between them and slide it up and down.
I alternate between hands and breasts until Todd grabs both my hands and doesn’t let them go any
more.
“Now,” he commands, and with nothing else left, my mouth takes in all of him.
He’s so big I wonder if I’m going to choke, but I manage. I slide my mouth all the way down to his
balls. I get into a gentle rhythm. Each time I get to the base, my tongue darts out to caress the edge of his
balls.
“That’s it,” mutters Todd and lets go of my arms. “Now you are being a good girl.”
My right hand makes for his balls while my left finds his ass cheek. I dig my fingernails into soft
flesh. I squeeze and massage as my lips work on his penis.
Todd’s hands now have found my nipples and are squeezing and pinching them. The more pain he
inflicts on them, the harder and faster I suck on his cock.
I feel him tense up and I slow down. I don’t want him to come just yet.
His fingers are massaging my breasts, and then he stops and pulls away from me.
I reach for him, but he has other plans.
He pushes me onto my back and spreads my legs.
My hips move toward him, almost involuntary. He pushes me down again as his tongue finds my
pussy.
He dances around my clit, deliberately avoiding it. With lightning speed, his tongue touches it
before it moves again. Then he wraps his lips around my pussy and sucks a little.
The whole thing is enough to topple me over the edge—the edge of need and desire.
I try and thrust my hips up again, but Todd’s hand firmly presses down on my lower abdomen. Right
now, the only thought I have is needing his cock inside of me.
Little whimpers come across my lips.
 “Please,” I plead and try again to push against his hand.
In return, Todd’s fingers are now entering my wetness. At first he uses one finger to easily glide in
and find my sweet spot. He pushes against it while his teeth nibble on my clit.
The combination of pleasure and pain threaten to rip me open. The feelings are so intense I want
more.
I have never felt like this before, and no one has ever done things to my body like Todd.
Just when I feel I can’t stand it any longer, Todd pulls out his finger. His lips now wrap around all
of my pussy and suck, with his tongue darting in and out.
Electric shock waves pulse through me.
To do this, Todd had to change position and move his hand off my abdomen.
Now I thrust up toward him. I want that tongue deeper inside me. He responds by grabbing my ass
cheeks with both hands and squeezing them.
My lower back is off the bed and my breasts perk skyward. I use my own hands to pinch my
nipples.
Todd is working away at my pussy and clit, nearly sending me over the edge. No thought process is
left in me. I’m a giant mess of desire.
Just when I tense my body in anticipation of an almighty orgasm, Todd stops. He’s panting, and I
can see my own juices drip down his chin.
He lets go off my ass, and my hips drop onto the bed. He straddles over me and now teases me with
his dick.
His tip touches my pussy ever so slightly. Then he slides it in just a little before pulling it out again.
The tease is unbearable.
But Todd keeps going. His hands crawl up my flat stomach and grab my waiting breasts. They
kneed and pull and pinch.
He leans toward me. There’s no smile around his face. He glowers at me.
“Are you whimpering?”
I nod.
“You know what that means?”
I shake my head. I love to be at his mercy. It turns me on even more.
“It means this.” He pulls out of me. “On all fours,” he growls, and I obey.
I lean on my forearms, and my breasts just touch the silky material of the sheets.
I wiggle my ass in the air. I want him. I want him now.
The hand slapping down takes me by surprise. Another spanking. This one is harder, more intense
than the last one, and there’s no stopping it.
I bury my head in the pillow. My ass naturally keeps wiggling at Todd.
And as suddenly as his spanking starts, it stops.
 I glance around and see him take hold of my hips before I feel him thrust into me.
His grip is hard and tight. His balls slam against my skin. I can feel his penis ram into me like a
ramming pole.
I’ve never had anyone so thick and long inside me. The combination of pleasure and pain threatens
to rip me open.
Todd continues to thrust into me, gripping me hard, his fingernails digging into my flesh. I can hear
him panting and the sound of his balls slapping against my flesh rhythmically.
The longer he pumps, the more willing my pussy becomes for him.
At some point in time, I feel my orgasm come. It pulses through me like an electric current.
Todd’s hands grip even harder. All my muscles spasm, and I throw my head back.
Jesus, I’ve never come like this.
I’m still pulsing when Todd finally grunts like a wild bear, and I feel him come inside me. As he
does so, he lets go of my hips and finds my breasts. I feel the ripples of spasm travel through his body.
When he’s finished, he collapses on top of me, and we lie there for a while. He is still inside me,
and his hands are still on my breasts.
After several minutes, maybe longer, he pulls out of me, rolls off, and turns me onto my back.
He smiles. I smile back.
“You okay?”
I blink a few times, wondering if all this is too good to be true and I’ll wake up to find I’m really at
home, fast asleep.
I nod. He’s still here.
And his fingers are drawing circles onto my stomach. His touch ignites more desire in me. I can’t
believe my own flesh—it’s weak and an easy target.
“Because…” Todd’s fingers continue their journey and head lower. “There are plenty of other
things I think we could do before we have dessert.”
I still can’t speak. His fingers are between my legs again. They are playful.
His lips, meanwhile, are planting butterfly kisses on my upper arm, neck, and moving toward my
breasts.
Surprised at my body’s reaction, I revel in the tingling sensation. There are no words to properly
describe how I’m feeling. Ecstasy mixes with desire and lust.
My eyes roam over Todd’s naked body.
“So, my little vixen,” he murmurs, and his lips are nibbling on my ear lobe. A deep-throated laugh
escapes my lips.
No one has ever called me a vixen, or any of what Todd called me before for that matter.
What’s the man doing to me? Where’s the nice Sophie Palmer, the good girl from next door?
“You disagree?”
 His hands are marching back up my body to my breasts. There they stay, doing unspeakable things
with my nipples. My hips move, almost involuntary from side to side.
“Maybe you haven’t seen the true me.” I now move away from him and straddle him. He’s taken by
surprise.
I lean over him so my breasts are dangling above his lips. He opens his mouth and latches onto
them. Whilst he is busy sucking, I move my wet pussy from side to side on his dick.
It had been limp moments earlier, but it’s coming to life quickly. To me it feels as if he’s still in me.
His cock has really stretched me, but it has been worth it. I have never fucked anyone like that
before.
His hands have found my backside, and he’s pushing me onto his cock. I resist.
The struggle is a beautiful dance of power, lust, and control. He wants to control my body, and this
time I want to dictate.
Eventually I lift myself off him enough for his dick to slide into me again. And then I bounce up and
down on him, riding him with all my might.
His hands hold onto my waist, and his thumbs are digging into my abdomen. I throw my head back
and thrust my chest out.
Todd yells,
“Go, my little slut.”
And I obey his command. I feel him tense under me, and I slow right down.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls, and I smile a wicked smile at him.
“This time it’s my way.”
I ease off him and kiss his chest, and my mouth travels all the way down to his cock. It’s standing to
attention.
This time I have no hesitation and just take it all in my mouth. I bob up and down. I taste my own
juices on him, and I’m as turned on as I can be.
I want him to come, I want him to come inside of me, but I want it to happen nice and slow.
The animal noises coming from Todd tell me I’m on the right track. His hands are ruffling my hair
and trying to push me even more onto him.
I slide all the way off and go to his balls. Now I take them into my mouth and enjoy the softness of
them. I move them from side to side and suck on them.
More groans, grumbles, and moans from the man I’m controlling.
Power—the power of seduction and lust…I’m discovering how good they feel.
For a change, I go back to his cock. It was waiting for me, and it responded instantly to my up-and-
down motion. I use my hands to massage those nuts.
“I love how much of a slut you are,” mutters Todd, and his hands around my head tighten.
As my lips move up and down on his dick, I feel his muscles tighten. For extra spice, I hover at the
base of his peni and lick around those little folds of skin where his cock ends.
“Oh, Sophie.” His voice is oddly rough.
It feels so good. My own juices are flowing rapidly. I’m tempted to use my fingers to add to my
pleasure, but I want to focus entirely on Todd.
When his fingers nearly rip out my hair, I know he’s about to come.
I suck harder and faster, and my fingers squeeze his balls in the same rhythm.
Todd arches his back, and when I look at him, I can see his abdominal muscle all tense up. He
screams loudly and animallike before I feel his body shudder and a release from his cock in the form of
milky cum. I swallow all of it, no hesitation at all.
When he collapses back onto the bed, I crawl up to him. He wraps his arm around me to pull me on
top of him.
He kisses me, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I give him access. When he lets go, he brushes my
hair out of my face.
“Have I told you, you are amazing at this?”
I shake my head and am about to say something, but he puts his fingers on my lips.
“And no, I don’t say that to all the girls I’ve had sex with.” He smiles and strokes my cheek. “You,
Sophie Palmer, are one of a kind.”
He kisses me again. His fingers explore my body.
“Time to return the favor,” he murmurs into my ear, and his lips travel to my pussy. It’s ready for
action and waiting.
I’m not sure what I’d prefer—his tongue and lips or his cock.
Todd lifts my legs and drapes them over his shoulders before he leans forward to allow his mouth
and tongue to explore my most private part.
In anticipation, I lift my hips, and this time he doesn’t stop me. His hands cup each ass cheek, and
his tongue slowly draws circles around my clit.
The man really knows how to push my buttons.
My brain is still mush, and all I can think of is this man and his sexual prowess. He knows places in
my pussy I didn’t know existed.
His tongues probes, teases, and caresses. It darts into me, pushing as far as it can before coming out
again and simply working on my clit. Fireworks go off inside me, and I wish this would last forever.
I purr like a cat.
“Yes, oh yes, please,” I mutter incoherently but can’t stop myself.
My body makes its own demands.
Todd’s index finger joins his tongue. The two work as a team. His finger finds the sweet spot to
push against and his mouth and lips suck and caress.
Electric shock waves pulse through me as I slowly build to my climax. Any hint of me coming has
Todd slow right down.
“Easy does it,” he whispers, and I feel like an untamed mare, being brought under control by the
alpha male of the herd.
“I can’t,” I start, but my words die on my lips when Todd’s mouth wraps itself over my pussy to
suck hard, and his tongue at the same time moves back and forth across my clit at such speed I know I’m
not going to last much longer. And then, just like that, he stops again.
His fingers push in and out, and I writhe with pleasure.
“Do it. Please do it,” I plead, and Todd laughs.
I feel like screaming, but Todd’s lips are back.
Any minute now I’m going to erupt like a fountain of pleasure. His tongue is working its magic on
my pussy.
I can feel my orgasm well up deep inside me. My muscles start to spasm.
Frantically my fingers reach for something to grip. There’s nothing in reach.
Todd’s massaging my ass cheeks in the rhythm of his tongue flicking across my clit.
And then, just like a volcano, I erupt, and my body spasms with pleasure. My hands have found his
shoulders and are digging into them. As I ride the wave of absolute pleasure, Todd keeps licking away
until I lie spent on the bed.
He slides alongside me and kisses me. I taste my own juices. Floating on a cloud can’t be more
magical than this.
I snuggle my head onto his chest and listen to his heartbeat. Todd’s fingers have found my hand, and
he links them with mine. I smile.
The world is good. No, better than good—it’s fucking fantastic.
 Sophie


I stretch languidly, catlike. I keep my eyes closed and snuggle my head deeper into the feather
pillow. A cool breeze caresses my body. On reflex, my hand attempts to reach for a cover, but finds
nothing.
I am in that delicious state of being asleep just before waking.
A familiar scent tickles my nostrils and sends signals to my brain, signals I would rather not know
about. I twitch my nose. Is it time to wake up, or can I steal a few more minutes?
The delicious smell of coffee makes me open my eyes. I’m unable to resist any longer.
I’m looking at Todd—a half-naked Todd. His eyes are devouring my body. He smiles and hands me
a mug of steaming black liquid.
I prop my head on my bent arm for support. Gingerly, my lips wrap around the porcelain and take a
sip. Boy, this is good coffee.
“Morning, sleeping beauty.”
A bit of dust is irritating my nose and I twitch it.
“Do you look at all your girls like that after you’ve conquered them?”
For the first time, I notice the tiny dimples on his cheeks when he smiles.
“Only you. I’ve never seen someone look so angelic and candid in their sleep.”
Suddenly acutely aware of my nakedness, I grab the sheet and pull it up to my chin.
He pouts.
“You didn’t have to,” he mumbles, and I feel the heat rise to my face.
Instead of an answer, I take another sip of the coffee. I usually need two large hits of caffeine
before I’m able to face the day properly.
Bits of images from last night flash up in my mind, and I feel myself go even redder in the face. Had
that really been me?
“Voila,” Todd’s voice rouses me from navel gazing.
I hadn’t noticed the old-fashioned tea trolley next to the bed. He pulls a sheet covering it to reveal a
selection of scrumptious breakfast goodies.
Suddenly, my stomach grumbles. To my own surprise, I’m hungry.
“Wow,” I’m impressed. “This looks good.”
He takes a little bow before he comes to sit beside me on the bed. Like the gentlemen he is, he
hands me a plate of French toast.
“Dig in,” he says and at the same time, kisses the top of my shoulder.
“I haven’t had French toast in ages.”
I take a big bite, and try to focus on the delicious flavors assaulting my senses. Unfortunately,
Todd’s gentle kisses are making it difficult.
Like tiny butterflies, his lips flit across my shoulder, up to my neck and down my back again.
Desire spreads through me.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
Todd gives a tiger-like growl.
“I am already,” he murmurs between kisses. His hands are wandering to places they shouldn’t be in
right now, at least not, if we are going to get up soon.
A groan escapes my lips. He certainly knows how to push my buttons.
“So,” Todd’s lips leave my back. “What are your plans for the day?”
Don’t stop, I want to shout, but I hold it in. I try and focus on the question. Apparently, my brain
doesn’t work so well around Todd Alexander. I’m trying to recall what day it is.
“I’ve got today off,” I admit, and my mind is already thinking ahead about all the sex we could
have.
“Great.” He happily grabs some toast for himself.
My body is screaming for him to touch me. I take a large gulp of coffee instead. To distract myself,
I use all my inner strength to focus on my breakfast.
How long has it been since someone served me breakfast in bed? I can’t recall.
“What are you plans?” I ask Todd and reach for some fruit.
Todd’s finger follows an invisible trail on my arm. My nerve endings are screaming for more.
“I don’t have much on.” He admits. “How about we hang together?”
I laugh. Has he really just suggested we ‘hang’ together?
“What’s so funny?” He looks crestfallen.
“You,” I lean toward him and give him little kiss on his cheek.
His hands grab my face, and before I can stop him, his lips are on top of mine. They are hard,
forceful, and demanding.
When he lets go of me, I’m breathing harder than if I’d sprinted a marathon.
“That’s your punishment for calling me funny,” he has a pretend scowl.
“Wow,” I’m momentarily lost for words.
“So how about it? You’ll spend the day with me?”
I look straight at him.
Somewhere deep down—reaching at me from very deep down—alarm bells are ringing. I stop to
consider this.
What harm could it do to hang out with Todd for the day? It’s not like I’m committing for life, am I?
I hardly know anything about him, so it’s the perfect chance to do so. And who knows, I might be
pleasantly surprised at the end of the day.
What’s the saying, in for a penny, in for a pound? I just spent a fantastic evening with Todd, so why
not see where it will lead?
“Sure,” I smile brightly at him.
I’d be lying if I don’t acknowledge I’m starting to get interested in Todd beyond him being the main
actor on my film. I’ve managed to scratch the surface of bad boy Todd…I’m curious to see how far I can
dig, and what I’ll discover.
“One condition though,” I say, getting out of bed to grab my scattered clothes.
“What’s that, beauty?”
The man knows how to flatter a woman, that’s for sure.
“We need to go to my place first, so I can freshen up, get a change of clothes and some other
things.”
Todd grins.
“You look just fine the way you are now.” He grabs my hand and stops me from getting dressed.
He kisses me. This time his lips are soft, gentle, as if asking for permission. I melt into his arms.
“We won’t make it to the door like this,” I whisper into his ear.
“What’s wrong with that?” he purrs, and I chuckle.
An annoying buzzing sound, like a gigantic fly buzzing around his head interrupts us. It doesn’t stop.
Todd sighs and releases me. As he retrieves his phone from his pocket, I scamper and quickly put
my clothes on.
Once Todd is off the phone, he grabs his keys and we walk out the door.
“We’ll finish what we started later,” he whispers into my ear and I feel a sweet longing between my
legs, a longing I have only come to know since last night.
 Todd


After being on the phone for what seemed like an eternity, I finally drive her home. She takes a
quick shower, changes clothes, and then I whisk her into my arms and tell her my plan for the day—the
Hamptons.
Why the fuck not?
The drive out to the East Hamptons is quiet. I play some music for Sophie on the radio, and every
time she smiles, my heart hammers in my chest.
It's weird to admit, but being with Sophie is different. She's unlike any other woman I've ever been
with.
I focus on the road ahead. The Hamptons are so different from New York City. You can hardly
believe it's still the same state.
Instead of buildings on top of one another, the greenery expands, front lawns grow bigger than
football fields, and trees blanket your vision.
Every time the scenery starts to change, I get that distinct feeling I'm home.
Just as I round the bend, I spot my house.
"Here we are," I say.
"Wow, this is yours?" Sophie asks.
"One of my homes, yes," I smile. I see she's impressed.
I pull the car up the long driveway. I’m glad to show her my house—a large, sprawling affair with
an Olympic-sized pool in the front yard.
"That pool looks amazing," Sophie says.
"We just might have to try it out later," I smile.
The house is empty, as usual. Since this isn't the only place I own, I'm not here often.
I turn the car's ignition off, and exit the car, popping open the trunk. I grab Sophie's bag. It's heavier
than it looks. What is it with women and packing? It's as if they're packing their whole lives every time
they're on a trip.
"Did you throw everything and the kitchen sink in here?" I ask, laughing.
"A girl can never be too prepared," she smiles.
Together, we walk inside the house.
"It's even more impressive on the inside than it is the outside!" she exclaims, looking around the
foyer wide-eyed.
I've never brought a woman here before. Ever. And her excitement takes me by surprise. I watch as
she runs out back.
"I've gotta check out this view," she says.
 "Go for it," I say, following her out.
My mind kicks into overdrive. Hell, not only have I never brought a woman out here before…I've
never brought anyone on a trip before. What's gotten into me?
Could it be because…?
No, that seems impossible. Or is it?
Have I fallen head over heels for Sophie? Enough so to merit this trip?
The thought of that makes my head spin.
If that's fucking true—it's a first.
"Unreal!" Sophie squeals. Her excitement is palpable. "This view is beyond amazing!"
She walks toward me and takes my hand in hers, and I swear, the moment she touches me, a bolt of
electricity travels down my spine.
"I think we should take a walk down to the shore," she says, smiling wide. Her face lights up at the
idea. The way she smiles and bats her eyelashes is enough to make me say yes to just about fucking
anything.
"I agree," I say. "I think that's a great idea."
As soon as those words leave my lips, I'm surprised at myself.
Who is this person talking? What is happening to me? Since when have I ever wanted to fucking
take a stroll down to the shore with a woman?
But the answer is obvious: right now. With this woman, my mind and body are in agreement.
Under no normal circumstances would I ever agree to do something so fucking cheesy, but this is
Sophie we're talking about. She's different. She's no normal girl.
So, I smile and take her hand in mine and we head straight for the shore.
Within a few moments, our conversation pivots to the film.
"I will admit," I say, "I have low expectations of independent films in general."
"You do?" she says.
"Yes," I say, "but with that said, and having read the script, I believe there's something more to this
one."
"That's a relief," she smiles.
"I have a confession," I say.
"What's that?"
"I trust you," I say. "And I admire you…being so versatile as to play the role of both the lead and
the director."
She nods her head and thinks about this for a moment.
"It's a big risk," she admits. "And to top it off, it will only work if everyone cooperates."
The moment she says this, she eyes me with a smirk on her face, a that smirk speaks volumes.
I laugh.
 "I swear," I say, "I'll cooperate more."
This makes her smile, and she moves her body closer to mine, hugging my arm a little tighter.
"Good," she says.
"I know how much this film means to you," I say, speaking slow and methodical, to make sure she
knows I'm genuine about it. "And I'm being honest when I say that it means just as much to me."
"That means a lot to me," Sophie says.
"I know my career isn't as flawless as before," I say, and I'm surprised at myself for being so honest
right now, but it's true. I'm getting less and less offers.
She hugs me tighter but doesn't say anything, so I continue.
"I hope to snatch an Oscar for this role that you so masterfully created."
I smile as I say this, and she returns with a grin of her own. As her lips curl into a smile, I watch as
the last remaining rays of sun bounce off her glossy lips. Everything in me wants to press those lips
against mine.
As she smiles, she says, "I think we should head back to the house."
Sounds like the perfect plan.
 Sophie


I just let the desire guide me.
Slowly, I reach for his belt and unbuckle it, pulling it out smoothly with a single movement. Then I
start unbuttoning the first button of his pants, my mind beginning to ramble about the huge bulk pulsing
inside them.
I just want to feel it—with my hands, mouth, pussy. What’s happening to me? My whole body is
craving Todd’s cock. I was never attracted to anyone like this.
Physically, he’s just too perfect. The kind we only see on tv…Which kinda makes sense, since he’s
a constant on the big screen.
I unbutton the rest of his pants and then I pull down the zipper, all that mass contracted inside his
clothes eager to come out and play with me. Without taking his pants off, I start sliding my hands heavily
across his thighs and knees up and down.
I sit on his lap, parting my lips as I approach his. I feel my skin shiver every time I feel his tongue
slowly touching mine with teasing movements. Each time his tongue touches mine, it hides itself, making
me search after it, with a thirst I’m not able to explain.
His hands are on my neck, sliding down to my cleavage, where his avid fingertips trace the outline
of my dress. Full of desire, he pushes it a little bit down, allowing him to peek at the lace of my black bra.
I can feel his cock pulsing inside his pants. Wasting no time, I jump out of his lap and position
myself on the floor’s carpet on my knees. I grab the hem of his pants and pull them down his legs with my
both hands, one at each side of his body.
I can see his cock tenting on his boxers briefs, desperately wanting to be set free. I find myself
uncapable of waiting even one more second. I eagerly push his boxers all the way down his legs, as his
shaft quickly jumps out.
My right hand starts stroking all his lenght, alternating between tightly gripping and lighty stroking
it. Todd groans and leans his head back, as my hand takes total control of him.
But that’s not enough. I want to taste him next.
As I lean my lips toward his cock, he immediatelly raises his hips. He’s anxious to feel my mouth
on him, but I want to tease him a little bit first.
Instead of going straight for his cock, my mouth goes for his inner thighs, and I kiss one and then the
other, my lips dangerously close to his groins but never actually touching his cock.
“You´re fucking torturing me,” he groans, raising his hips once more.
“I know…that´s the point” I purr, softly resting my index finger on the root of his cock. I run it up
all the way to its tip, and then back to the root, the pressure I’m applying on his cock so soft, I bet my
finger feels like a feather.
 His cock pulses harder and harder against my finger and I can’t resist it anymore. I lean in further,
parting my lips. Reaching for his cock, replace my index finger with the wet tip of my tongue.
Feeling my tongue slowly touching the base of his shaft, he groans and sighs heavily. Then, I start
running my tongue all the way up, as I trace the perfect contour of his member. Reaching his tip, I move
my tongue in slow circles around it.
I want him to fill my mouth. I part my lips, wraping them on his tip, tasting his salty flavour that I
like so much. Then, I just close my eyes, opening my mouth wide and allowing all his inches to slide over
my tongue until they touch the back of my throat.
I hold it there, pressing my tongue against his shaft, and then move my mouth further down as deep
as I can. I only stop when my lips brush the smooth skin at the root of his cock. Satisfied with my
mouthful, I unroll my lips over his shaft, allowing his cock to pop out of my mouth.
I take a deep breath, and then I take him in once more. This time, instead of my slow movements
earlier, I go as fast as I can, bobbing my head back and forth.
My hand starts caressing both his balls. They feel heavy and warm against my fingers, and my skin
prickles as I imagine the ungodly amount of cum they must be producing right now.
Sucking him harder and harder, I wrap one hand around his shaft and start using both my mouth and
hand to please him, sucking and stroking in a maddening pendulum motion.
As I suck, he places his hands on my head, grabbing a bunch of hair and forcing me to go deeper. I
close my eyes and my hand lets go of his cock, as he starts fucking my mouth harder.
I try to moan, but his huge cock is filling all my mouth, only allowing me to drop some loose
sounds. I am so consumed by the sensation that I don´t know for how long we keep like that. Oh my God, I
love having him on my mouth.
Feeling closer to the point of no return, he pushes my head back, pulling his member out.
He grabs me by the hand, pulling me up. His arms go around my waist as he presses his lips on
mine. With his right hand, he reaches my zipper’s dress, slowly pushing it down, allowing the straps to
slide down my shoulders.
Grabbing on the fabric, Todd pushes the dress down my body, as his hands follow it, pressing my
curves as it falls. As it finally reaches the floor, I step out of it, now with only my bra and thong covering
me.
“I want you,” I whisper on his ear as I place my hands around his neck. Then I start unbuttoning his
shirt.
“I want you more.”
Anxious, he raises his arms, allowing me to take his shirt off. I take a moment to stare the naked
man in front of me. His voice made my pussy even wetter, soaking my thong. I need his cock now. But
first, he has other plans.
Picking me up, he takes me to the bed and lays me down on the mattress. He leans into me and with
his hands on my knees, opens my legs wide. Then he simply lies down on top of me.
With his right hand, he traces the contour of my face, and then goes down to my bra. He quickly
discovers the clasp on the front, right between my breasts. Unclasping it, he reveals my breasts, as his
hands cup and squeeze then.
His fingertips slide to a rosy nipple and he starts pinching it softly. I moan with pleasure, all of my
body craving for his touch. While he pinches my nipples, one at a time, his lips go straight to my neck,
where he kisses me and bites my softly. I moan again.
“It feels so good.”
“It will only get better.” He grins, as he slides his lips down my neck, tracing a line as he
approaches his mouth to my right nipple.
He wraps his lips around my hard tip, and starts sucking it gently, as his other hand squeezes my left
breast. I gasp as I feel his tongue make quick swirls as he take turns sucking on each tip.
Letting go of my nipples, Todd’s lips continue going down, until they reach my thighs. Then, with
his fingers he pulls my thong to the side and starts tracing down a line between the elastic band and my
outer lips, touching them lightly.
I moan, but i don´t want any teasing, I want his fingers on me right now. As if he could read my
thoughts, he starts rubbing his finger up and down, touching the whole lenght of my drenched pussy.
With his hands on the thong’s elastic band, he pushes it down my legs, throwing it to the floor near
the bed. He leans into me and starts touching me again, avoiding my clit area, and positioning his face
between my legs.
He licks and kisses my thighs, the warm of his breath near my skin driving me insane. Then, with
one finger, he traces circles around my clit and starts rubbing it up and down and side to side. At the same
time, with the other hand, he inserts one finger inside my pussy hooking it upwards, touching and rubbing
my G-point.
I feel my skin prickling as he does that, and moans cascade out of my lips, filling the whole room.
He expertly moves his finger in and out, beginning slowly at first, and then increasing the pace. While
fingering me, he brings his tongue to my clit and gently licks it.
My hands go to his head, pushing it deeper into my thighs.
Now, sucking my clit, he inserts a second finger inside me, going in and out with more urgency than
before. It feels so good that I’m screaming, my throat is becoming sore, but I don’t care. Todd is
completely eating my pussy and that’s all I can think about right now.
He goes in with a third finger, while he sucks my wetness. I can already feel a massive orgasm
building up inside me.
“Don´t stop…don’t stop, Todd!!!” I scream.
He goes at it, harder and harder, until I can’t take it anymore and come hard. As my pussy tightens
around his fingers, I arch my back and grab the sheets, carving my fingers on the mattress. The explosion
of pleasure runs through my whole body, and he only takes his fingers out of me when I stop screaming.
Still burning inside, I force him to lay down on his back. I plant both feet on either side of his head,
and then start lowering myself slowly, only stopping when I feel my knees on the matress and my pussy
lips press against his mouth.
With my hands on his waist, I then bend forward and reach for his cock with my mouth, eager to
have him between my parted lips.
I start sucking his tip gently, wrapping my tongue around it, as he parts my inner lips with his tongue
and begins to lick me.
Then I open my mouth wide, allowing all his lenght inside and start bobbing my head, going as
deep as I can. It’s hard to stay focused, once he´s completely eating my pussy, licking and sucking my clit.
I don’t know how long our mouths work to please each other like that, but it’s time to feel his cock
inside me. Letting go of his big shaft, I roll to the side.
Grabbing me by the wrists, he pins me down on the bed, pressing his naked body on top of mine.
He grabs his cock, guiding it down and rubbing its tip against my pussy. In a second he is inside me, his
big shaft sliding through my wet pussy.
Once he is deep inside me, he holds it there pausing for a moment, instead of thrusting again. He
grabs my breast and squeeze them, one at a time, and his lips go to my neck, where they kiss me gently,
making my body shiver. My nipples are hard as they can be, while he pinches them softly.
He takes his cock out, and then slides it inside me again. The pace of his thrusts increases, and it
doesn’t take much longer until he is completely fucking me without mercy. My thighs try to match his
rough and harsh rhythm as I moan hard.
“Harder,” I beg him, not entirely sure if that’s even possible, but he’s a man full of surprises. He’s
going in and out so fast now, I’m not sure I can keep up.
“Don´t stop!”
That sweet feeling starts to burn inside me again, making me shiver, making me want more of him
all to myself. The though of this gorgeous man, with his big cock all inside me, pleasing me, makes me
want to see what’s happening with my own eyes, instead of just feeling it.
I raise my head from the bed slightly, using my elbows for support. And here it is, his massive cock
fucking me, so fast that it is almost impossible to see if it’s going in or out.
The sight of it makes my body burn even more and just like that, I come hard, waves of pleasure
reaching all the cells of my body. Oh Todd, what are you doing to me?
Shivering, I gather some strength that I never thought I’d still have, after he fucked me like this. I
stand up on the matress, and looking at the grin on his face I know that there’s more to come..
“Tired already Sophie?” he laughs, teasing me, while he lays on his back, looking up at me with his
hands folded behind his head.
“You’ll see,” I say, focusing on what I am going to do with him next. I’m gonna ride him so hard, he
won’t even know in which planet he’s in.
Still throughly aroused, I jump on top of him, unable to fight my desire to have more him. I lean
toward his face and kiss him. He kisses me back, and our tongues wrap, caressing and battling each other.
Then I pull myself back, spreading all my wetness in his thighs and kissing his chest. With my right
hand, I grab his cock, pointing it upwards and rubbing his tip on my clit. Only then do I start easing myself
down on his cock, allowing all his length to slide inside me.
His hands unfold from behind his head. As I start jumping up and down on him, he reaches for my
breasts once again, squeezing them, lightly at first and harder when I increase the pace.
I’m jumping hard on him, up and down, rocking my body back and forth, rotating my hips in circles
as I do that. I’m moaning hard, his cock pleasuring me like nothing before.
His hands slide from by breasts to underneath my butt and he starts lifting me up and pushing me
down harder and harder, deciding the rythm of the thrusts. My hands are clawing on his chest, as he places
his hands on my waist now, pulling me down deep into his cock and completely ravaging my pussy.
Slowly, he starts softening his thrusts. Still inside me, he sits on the bed, me on his lap, beads of
sweet dripping from my forehead and down my back. His hands grab my hair, pulling my head back with
some roughness, and then kisses my exposed neck.
He stops kissing me, and looks me in the eyes.
“Turn around Sophie. I want to see you from behind,” he commands.
Like the good girl I am, I obey him quickly. I pull out of his cock, while he lays on his back again.
I sit on his cock once more, this time with my back turned to him. I don’t even bother to start riding
him slowly—I just go as fast as I can from the start, his hands on my hips, guiding me.
I ride him into oblivion. I never though I could feel this much pleasure. My fingers start rubbing my
clit, and—Oh my god. I’ll come again.
My moans turn into screams, my whole body starting to burn, but I don´t stop jumping on his cock.
“Come to me.”
I don´t know how I’m able to hear his voice, but there’s an bomb of intense pleasure inside me
ready to blow.
My pussy tightens around him. I lose the control of my legs and just come, my throat completely
sore due to the screams that his shaft is drawing out from me.
He pulls out his cock, and I just sit on the mattress. But he gives me no time to rest. He’s already
behind me, forcing me to go on fours and grabbing me by the waist.
I feel his tip against me, making my pussy burn in the place he’s touching it. He rubs his cock up and
down the whole length of my pussy, and then he stops before allowing his cock all the way in, its tip
pulsing hard against my pussy lips.
With a deep thrust, he pushes inside me, pounding me hard, his balls slapping at my clit.
With one hand he grabs my hair, and with the other he starts slaping my ass—slowly increasing his
pace and intensity, until he’s doing it so hard that I’m pretty sure my ass is completely red by now.
I don´t complain. I start thrusting back, allowing him to go deeper inside me.
He slides one hand in order to reach my clit, and begins rubbing it as he keeps on thrusting.
We keep moving like that for a while, letting the pleasure build. He places his hands on my ass
cheeks, spreading then wide, and then starts rubbing a finger up and down my ass crack.
I grit my teeth as he presses his finger against my asshole. Still pounding my pussy hard, he starts
sliding his finger inside me.
Once his whole finger is inside my ass, he starts fingering me. At the mercy of his finger, I just grab
at the sheets with my trembling hands. My pussy squeezes his cock and he pounds me even harder, my
body rocking back and forth with each coming and going motion of his.
This man surely knows how to please a woman, and it doesn’t take too long until I come again.
I scream at the top of my lungs, my whole body exploding in pleasure. But that doesn’t make him
stop. And I don’t want him to stop.
“Don’t stop,” I just tell him, this time wanting him to cum as well. I need to feel his warm juices on
me, his cock gushing out that raging river inside my body…
“Fuck me all the way, Todd…” I moan with my eyes closed shut as pleasure still tears my brain
apart.
I feel his cock pulsing wildly inside me. Just then, he stops thrusting and with his cock buried deep
inside my ravaged pussy, he starts gushing out in a torrent. I feel the delicious sensation of his warm
semen filling me up, and it only takes a few seconds for it to start dripping out of my pussy.
He pulls out of me and we lay in the bed side by side. I can’t help but smile to myself when I turn to
face him and see him smiling with his eyes closed. After a few seconds, he opens his eyes to look at me
and his smile goes wider.
Pleased for some reason I can’t quite understand, I comfortably sink deeper into the mattress.
 Todd


I could watch this girl all day long. I love the way she tilts her head when she’s thinking, the way
her fingers reach for the clapperboard pendant around her neck and move it from side to side when she’s
nervous or thinking, and the way she smiles.
What can I say, I’m smitten.
A shadow falls over me and then a body impedes my view of the perfect woman. Strong, sweet
perfume threatens to suffocate me. I cough. Whatever brand it is, it ain’t doing it for me.
“Hellooo,” someone purrs, and I look up.
Emma’s face is now inches away from mine. She smiles brightly. Briefly I notice her tight, low-cut
V-neck T-shirt. It reveals a little more than it should, and that’s because she’s bending over me.
If I wanted to, I could catch a good look at her perky breasts. But I don’t want to.
Which is fucking weird.
Instead I try and look past the second grade actress.
Not to be rude, I reply with a short “hi.”
Not to be deterred, Emma continues to lean toward me, almost shoving her boobs into my face. I
shift in my seat and then move my chair over to the left just a little, enough to get Emma and her breasts
out of my face.
She gets the hint and straightens up. Her arms cross in front of her body.
“Who knew you’d be such a prude. I thought you were a bad boy, Todd?”
I ignore her. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, that is to never take the bait if you don’t want
the challenge. I don’t want the challenge. I want to sit here and enjoy feasting on my sweet little Sophie.
“I don’t think we have been formally introduced,” Emma leans toward me again. “I’m Emma.”
I shoot her a sideways glance.
Is she kidding? We’ve been in a couple of scenes together. And who gives a fuck about formal
introductions.
“I hear you’ve got quite a reputation for…you know,” she purrs into my ear and leaves the last few
words hanging. “I’ve heard you’re always up for a game.”
There’s too much red lipstick for my liking around her pouting lips. She’s licking them and at the
same time puts one hand on my thigh and the other on my shoulder.
I push her hands off me and make to stand. Whatever game she’s playing, I don’t want to be part of
it.
“I’ve long stopped playing games, Emma,” I say with my most icy voice. “Now if you’ll excuse
me.” I start to walk past her.
To my surprise, Emma stands in my way, and she follows my gaze before raising her eyebrows.
 “Really? You’ve got to be kidding. Her?”
With each word her tone rises a little, like someone playing the piano scales.
“I thought a man of your caliber would have better taste than to fall for trailer trash.”
It’s as if someone’s punched me in the gut. What did this bitch just call Sophie?
“I mean, look at her,” Emma drones on. “There’s nothing sexy or particularly interesting about her.”
She pirouettes in front of me. “If you take me, on the other hand, I’m the complete package.”
“I beg to differ,” I say through clenched teeth. “Sophie is far better than you, and on so many
levels.”
To make sure I don’t stoop to anything below my best behavior, I walk off the set altogether.
Steam is coming from my ears, and I feel the need to hit someone, or something. Perhaps I should
get myself one of those punching bags in the trailer. Putting might be too tame a past time. Mental note to
self, get Jordan to buy me a punching bag.
Walking to my trailer, I mull over what Emma said—about Sophie being trailer trash and nothing
compared to her.
Images of Sophie’s naked body flash through my mind. Perky nipples, firm breasts, and delicious
round ass cheeks are difficult to ignore. I turn back briefly to catch one last glimpse of the girl of my
dreams before I exit and find my trailer.
I flop into my super soft lounge chair under the awning of my trailer. It’s a beautiful day, and I don’t
want to be cooped up inside.
Jordan is there, working away on his laptop. What does that guy do all the time?
“What’s up, man?” Jordan gives me one of his all-knowing looks.
“That Emma chick just hit on me,” I say and lean back against the cushion.
“And that’s a problem because?” Jordan shuts his laptop and goes to get me my espresso.
“Have you looked at her?”
Jordan laughs. “Yeah. I thought she’d be your type for sure. What’s not to like about her? She’s a
socialite, and she’s probably up for something noncommittal during this film.”
I pout. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I thought Jordan knew me.
“You’ve got be kidding? I mean, have you really looked at her? Those blood-red lips.” I cringe at
the thought of them. “Makes me think of a vampire every time I look at them.”
Jordan shakes his head and disappears into the trailer. A few minutes later, he comes back with my
caffeine hit.
Grateful, I take it and have a sip. I instantly feel better.
“And compared to Sophie, she’s a slut.”
Jordan sits back at the table with his laptop. He stares at me.
“Sophie? You and Sophie? Really?”
Even if he does not mean to, I’m insulted.
 “What do you mean with really?”
“Well,” Jordan says as he shrugs, “she’s not the sort of girl you’ve been going for. Emma is more
your type.”
“Bullshit,” I protest. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. How can my best friend be so wrong about
me?
“Mr. Alexander.” A young man with a clipboard is coming toward my trailer. He looks a little
frightened.
“That’s me,” I say in the most friendly tone I can muster.
“You are required on set, Mr. Alexander.”
The words are music to my ears. I stand and follow the intern and ignore the last comment from
Jordan.
It really isn’t worthy of a response anyway.
 Sophie


My deep breathing technique is letting me down. It’s meant to make sure I stay calm, but it’s having
no effect whatsoever. I’m sure if someone was to take my blood pressure right now, it’d be two hundred
over a hundred and fifty.
“Let’s do it again,” yells Mason, and I try hard not to glare at Emma.
For some reason, only known to the woman herself, she’s deliberately stuffing up the scene. What
should be a quick and easy take has turned into twenty-four unsuccessful ones.
I take my hat off to Todd who’s still smiling after all the time that has been wasted because of
Emma’s bad acting.
“It’s time to…” Emma hesitates and stops midsentence.
“Cut,” Mason calls and I sigh. “Take five.”
With my patience growing thin, I grab Emma by the arm and pull her away from Todd and the
cameraman.
“What’s going on, Emma?” I don’t even try to hide my annoyance. “You’re deliberately sabotaging
this scene. What is the problem?”
In my mind I’m replaying the last few days of shooting to pinpoint what might be troubling the
young actress, but nothing comes to mind. I’m sure I haven’t said anything to offend or upset her.
I shoot a quick glance in Todd’s direction.
Has he said something to her? It seems unlikely. Perhaps I should check with him.
Emma pouts. She flips her hair back and thrusts her chest out. Why I would want to catch an eyeful
of her boobs is beyond me, but I say nothing.
“It’s not my fault the director is not focused on the job.”
My lower jaw drops. Did she just say it was my fault?
“Pardon?”
Maybe I misheard the woman.
“You heard me. You wanna be a superstar. If there was a real director on this movie, it wouldn’t
take twenty something takes on a simple little scene.”
The little witch.
“Listen here, Emma.” My voice is ice cold. “You’re the one who has been getting the scene wrong.
You seem to be unable to remember the handful of words you have to say in this scene. What do you mean
that if the director was better this would not happen?”
Emma purses her lips further.
“You heard me, Sophie. If you didn’t insist on playing the starring role and directing, this film
would be a lot better. Have you never heard the saying ‘don’t bite off more than you can chew?’”
 A little bit of spit hits the side of my cheek.
It takes every ounce of self-control not to do something I might regret later.
“I can’t work like this,” announces Emma and walks out of the studio.
Someone touches me on the shoulder. I spin around. Todd is right behind me.
“You know she’s wrong.”
I peer closely at him. All my confidence has vanished.
Words are so powerful. They can caress, they can declare love, and they can destroy a person.
Emma’s words have left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.
“Sophie.” Todd lifts my head and looks me direct in the eyes. “Repeat after me. Emma is wrong.
I’m a great director and actress.”
Despite my low mood, my lips curl into a smile.
“I can’t believe she just walked out.” I shake my head. “This means a day totally wasted. And
we’re not going to be able to finish the scene today.”
Todd leans toward me and murmurs something in my ear.
I slap the back of his shoulder lightly.
“I’m serious, Todd. It’s a total waste of a day.”
“Come on.” Todd takes my hand. “Let’s have a little break. We’re all getting a bit tired.”
I shake my head. It’s nice of Todd to stand up for me and try and cheer me up, but I’ve got to talk to
Emma.
“I better go and talk to her and see what’s really eating her.”
Easier said than done—Emma is not keen to speak to me. At first, she won’t even open the trailer
for me to come in.
“Look, Emma,” I start and search for the right words.
“I don’t know why you’re here,” Emma cuts me off. “I told you. You shouldn’t be playing the lead
role and directing. You’re not as great an actress as you think you are, and don’t get me started on your
ability as director.”
Where has this evil beast come from? Did Emma have a twin sister and they switched places to
play a trick on their work colleagues? If so, at what point in time will someone say fooled you?
“I’m not sure my ability as director has anything to do with your inability to play your minor scene
correctly today.”
Emma has her hands on her hips and glares at me.
“If this film had a proper director, my acting would be a lot better. I would shine.”
Anger is taking hold of me. How dare this little bitch insult me and blame me for her shortcomings.
Her acting wasn’t fantastic before she took this role. Some of her critics even went as far as saying
she couldn’t act, and she only got parts where she could sleep with the producer or director.
“Perhaps you need some time to go over your lines,” I say and leave the trailer. There’s nothing
more to say to her. And I really don’t want to hear how useless I am again.
Alice and Eric find me.
I’m close to tears, and Alice notices it. She hugs and wraps her arms around me.
She’s good that way. Reassure first then ask questions next.
“What happened?”
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. I know I’m overreacting.
“I just went to talk to Emma, and she keeps telling me I shouldn’t be in the lead role and directing
the film. In fact, she says I shouldn’t do either roles.”
Eric laughs.
“And on what does she base this?”
I shrug. I don’t want to share my theory of evil twin sister.
“Don’t worry, Sophie.” Alice hugs me again.
“I’ll go and have a talk with her,” Eric says. “Let’s call it a day. We could all do with a bit of a rest
day.”
I watch them leave arm in arm and feel a sudden wave of sadness.
“So…will you hang with me now?”
I turn to see Todd behind me.
 Todd


My fingers play with the back of Sophie’s hair. I love curling strands of her hair around them and
watch it run over my skin before it falls onto her swanlike neck.
She sighs, and I watch her chest rise and fall. I lean forward and kiss her gently on her naked
shoulder.
Lucky for me, Sophie really wanted to…ahem, hang out. And here we are now, lying naked on my
trailer’s bed. But there’s an expression of concern on her face, one I don’t like.
“Something troubling you?” I’m amazed at my own question. Not that long ago, I would never have
asked a chick if something was troubling her.
In fact, I doubt I’d even think to ask.
Sophie rolls onto her back and looks at me with sad eyes, maybe they’re thoughtful, but they
certainly aren’t sparkling with happiness.
At first she just shrugs. Words seem to elude her.
“Oh, you know,” she mutters and grabs the white sheet scrunched around her feet to pull it toward
her.
Any other time I would have stopped her or said something funny, but not this time. I sense her
tension.
“The way Emma spoke and what she said has rattled me,” she confesses and plays with the sheets.
I furrow my brow. What does she mean? How could anything that low-level actress says affect her?
She’s a Palmer, and the Palmers are godlike in the movie industry… surely Sophie knows this.
“Really?” I know it’s not much, but right now I can’t think of what else to say. “How can you pay
any attention to her?” I try and stress the word her as much as I can.
Another shrug from Sophie.
“What if she has a point?” Now she’s gnawing on her bottom lip. “I mean, what if I really have
chewed off more than I can chew, and what if I am no good at directing and acting in the movie at the
same time?”
I’m sure my frown deepens.
“Sophie Palmer, earth to Sophie Palmer.” I gently shake her by the shoulders. “Are you listening to
yourself?”
Sophie avoids my gaze. “Stop it,” she mumbles.
“Sophie, Sophie, Sophie,” I murmur into her hair. “I don’t know what to do. I should spank you.”
“Stop it.” Sophie’s face is stern. “I’m not joking, Todd. What if she’s right?”
“What if, what if? What if a meteorite plummets out of the sky and lands on our apartment? Or what
if I get run over by a bus on my way to work tomorrow or, here is a novel thought, what if your movie
cleans up at the Oscars?”
Sophie rolls her eyes, and I can’t help but take her into my arms and smother her in kisses.
I wish I could do more. But how do you tell someone they are brilliant? And why is it she’s more
inclined to believe that Emma girl over me? Human nature, I suppose…we always latch onto negative
comments and ignore positive ones.
Her hand reaches for her pendant. I smile.
“Come on, Sophie, you seriously can’t believe a word that comes out of that shallow bimbo?”
Before Sophie can reply, my own phone buzzes. I reach over her and pick it up. Jordan has sent a
message. What does he want?
I open it and click on the “must read” link.
Sophie rolls onto her front and rests her head in her hands, elbows on the pillow.
I roll into the same position and put the phone down. As soon as I do, the swirling color wheel
changes to an image of none other than Emma.
“I can’t believe I agreed to work on this second-rate film.” Her red lips tell the world as a reporter
holds a microphone in front of her face.
I want to click out of the interview, but Sophie stops me.
“I knew it was an indie film,” Emma continues and stares into the camera with rather large eyes.
“But we all know some of those can be really quite good. Not this one. It has Sophie Palmer direct and
star the main role. I mean, how can you do both those things well? I mean really?”
Her eyes roll around her head and look as if they’re at risk of popping out. Has she smoked or taken
something? To his credit, the reporter doesn’t say anything, and I wonder if his plan is to let Emma make a
fool of herself without any help from anyone else.
“Everyone goes on and on about how she’s a Palmer,” Emma continues, “as if that means anything. I
can assure you she’s no good at either of her jobs. If you ask me, she should be back at acting school.”
“Let’s turn it off,” I plead, knowing Sophie’s close to tears. Thankfully, before she can say anything
else, it’s over.
I glare at my mobile as if it’s faulty. Why would the bitch do such a thing?
Deep within me, something stirs. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Why oh why?
And then it dawns on me. She’s paying Sophie back because I rejected her. Shit, is my ego so big
I’m actually believing this? No, I’m sure I’m right.
I pull Sophie toward me and kiss her—slow, gentle, and with as much love as I can put into it.
“She’s wrong. Trust me. Actors should be professional, and even if she doesn’t like you, she should
stay professional. You’d never badmouth her like that. I know.”
Her lips curl up ever so slightly.
This time I kiss the tip of her nose.
“Do you want to come to dinner at my parents’ house?”
 The question blows me away. Sophie Palmer is inviting me, Todd Alexander, to have dinner with
her…at her parents’ house? Her parents are both legends.
“If you don’t want to, I understand.”
“Are you kidding?” I hop out of bed and grab some clothes. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
She laughs, and a little of her spark returns.
“I better have a shower first and find some clothes.” She skips past me, and I grab her.
“I don’t know,” I tease her. “You look just fine to me.”
She pulls back and pouts.
“Only fine?”
I slap her on the ass and grin. “You know I worship the ground you walk on, Ms. Palmer.”
 Sophie


My right hand flips down the visor in the car, and I examine myself critically in the little mirror.
“You look fine, babe.” Todd’s hand rests on my thigh, his fingers caressing my naked flesh.
I push desire aside and roll my eyes.
“Fine?” I pout.
He leans over and plants a kiss on my cheek.
“Beautiful, angelic, gorgeous.” His lips caress my face.
“Stop it,” I giggle and quickly get out of the car. My parents are sticklers for punctuality.
The door opens as my feet scrunch on the fine pebble garden path leading to the front of the house. I
stop to smell one of the roses. Its scent is intoxicating.
“Hello, love.” Mum comes out to greet me. We hug. I relish the cuddle before I pull away to
introduce Todd.
“Mum, meet Todd.” I step aside so Mum can see him. “Todd, this is my mother, Olivia.”
“It’s an absolute pleasure and privilege to meet you, Mrs. Palmer, a woman of such beauty,
elegance, and talent.” Todd bows and kisses the back of my mother’s hand.
She giggles like a little schoolgirl and winks in my direction.
“My, my, Sophie.” She links arms with me and motions Todd to follow. “You’ve caught a real
charmer here, haven’t you?”
Once we are inside, Mum lets go of my arm.
“Come into the dining room. I’ll just walk ahead to let your father know you two have arrived.”
Todd stops next to me.
“Your mother is something else,” he whispers in my ear. “I feel like one of those teenagers meeting
their idol for their first time.”
I chuckle.
“My mother has that impression on most people.” I take his hand. “I hope you didn’t pee yourself
with excitement.
“Well…” Todd doesn’t finish the sentence.
We laugh.
“I can see how you would feel pressure living up to expectations,” Todd speaks quietly.
“Wait till you meet my father, and you’ll really understand where I’m coming from.”
Todd pulls out my chair, and I sit down.
“Such good manners are rare these days,” observes Mum who has come back into the room.
“Sophie, what a delight to find you here today.”
I push my chair back and run to greet Dad. His arms wrap around me. I must make sure to visit
more often.
“Hi, Dad,” I say and kiss his cheek.
Dad shakes Todd’s hand, and they exchange the usual pleasantries, all while M
um busies herself with serving our lunch.
“So my gorgeous favorite daughter, how’s the big film coming along?”
“I’m your only daughter,” I tease Dad and take a mouthful of food.
“No need to become a pedant,” retorts Dad and pours Todd some wine.
“What’s the answer to how is the film coming along?”
“Fine.” I’m reminded of Emma’s comments.
“I must say, Soph…I’m really impressed. You have taken on such a huge amount of responsibility. It
takes guts, real guts to agree to direct a film and be one of the main stars in it.”
A lump forms at the back of my throat. Is there something wrong with Dad? He rarely pays me
compliments of this magnitude.
“Can I say, Mr. Palmer,” Todd chimes in, “your daughter, Sophie, is amazing. She has so much
talent.”
My dad winks at me and picks up his glass.
“A toast to our Sophie. May her film be a huge success and an Oscar contender.”
“Hear, hear,” echoes Mum and Todd.
Mechanically I sip from my drink. Those negative, bitchy comments from Emma just won’t leave
me alone.
“You know,” Dad lowers his voice conspiratorially. “I have it on good authority your film is being
watched closely by member of the Oscar panel.”
“Dad.” I wag my finger in his direction. “Is this one of your stories?”
He shakes his head.
“No, I’m serious. A very close friend of mine is on the panel and told me the other day there were
high hopes for your film. And not just for one Oscar, no…for several.”
Todd hangs on every word of my Dad’s and nods.
“Wait till you see the finished product, Mr. Palmer.”
“Hugo. Please call me Hugo, young man.”
“Sophie’s a fantastic director. She’s able to see things others don’t. I have a lot of respect for her,
and she really brings out the best in all of us.”
My mother nods.
“Yes, Sophie’s very good. Once she sees for herself how good she is, she’ll be unstoppable.”
All this praise makes me feel uncomfortable.
Todd rests his hand on my back. He smiles at me.
“I think Todd’s exaggerating just a little,” I finally chime in. “Filming is going fine. You know what
filming is like.” I turn to Dad. He nods and smiles.
“Not every day is going to be a perfect day, sweetheart,” he says, and I wonder if he senses my
inner turmoil.
Dad can read me like an open book. I find it difficult to hide things from him.
By the time we get to dessert, we have solved some of the major problems in the world. We may
not have solved world peace, but we’ve come a long way toward working out what is needed to feed the
poor and make sure people get on better with each other.
“Let’s have coffee on the veranda,” suggests my mum, and we follow her.
On the way, Todd stops to admire some family photos, the kind every family has on display. Some
of them are of me.
“This is my favorite,” Dad points to a photo where a little girl sits in the director’s chair with a
megaphone in her hand.
“A born director.” Dad’s voice is filled with pride.
“And stunning to look at as well,” adds Todd.
By the time we say our farewells, it is near dark, and Todd waits in the car for me.
Mum holds me by the arm and looks me in the eyes.
“Be careful, dear.” Her voice is serious, as is her expression. “I know he’s a looker and on the
surface seems like the real deal…but be careful. We have all seen what he can be like in the media.”
I kiss Mum and promise I will be careful.
Now isn’t the time to tell her that there is another side to Todd, a side I’m getting to know and like.
 Sophie


Stop thinking about it, I tell myself, trying push my Mum’s words to a deep corner of my mind.
Easier said than done, of course.
Truth be told, I’m falling for Todd—and I’m falling fast and hard. My heart jumps inside my chest
each and every time I see him, and my whole body seems to be aching for his 24/7. For God’s sake, I even
took him to my parent’s house for dinner. I never did that, not even in what I thought to be my serious
relationships.
“You alright?” He asks me as we drive back to the city, his Porsche’s engine roaring as we make
our way through the freeway.
“I am,” I nod, looking at him and sucking in a deep breath.
I let my gaze linger on him, taking in every single line on his face, and I feel every inkling of doubt
and fear I have, simply fading away.
If I’m falling for him, so be it.
“Want me to take you home?” He asks me again, throwing me a carefree smile.
“No,” I reply, laying my hand on top of his knee. “I want to go back to your place.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” he grins, and I bet he’d floor the accelerator if it weren’t for
the fact I’m inside the car with him.
He might try to act and look like a bad boy, but deep down, Todd cares about everyone around him.
God, I can’t believe I’m saying this about him…just a few days ago I thought he was an intolerable
asshole, and now here I am.
When we finally park on the underground garage, Todd jumps out from his seat and makes his way
around the car. He opens the door for me—just like a true gentleman—and offers me his hand. I take it,
and allow him to lead me to the elevator.
With each step I take, my heart seems to drum faster and faster.
Inside the elevator, I press my back against the wall, and simply stare into his eyes. He does the
same, allowing that sweet electricity to crackle in the distance between our bodies. We remain like that
during the climb up, the tension between us growing so fast, it’s almost surprising I haven’t jumped on him
yet.
“I got something for you,” he tells me as we step inside his apartment. He makes his way toward
the bedroom, and then he heads out a few seconds later, holding a silk nightgown on his hands.
“Don’t tell me you keep women’s clothes around just in case,” I tell him, arching my eyebrows and
placing both hands on my hips.
“No,” he laughs as I take the nightgown from his hands, “I got this just for you. You know, just in
case you wanted to sleep over,” he adds, and I can’t help but notice he’s slightly embarrassed. Even
though Todd seems to have a reputation with the opposite sex, he doesn’t seem too comfortable with this
kind of intimacy.
Smiling at him, I take the nightgown off his hands and start undressing right in front of him, fully
knowing that his eyes are devouring each and every inch of my naked skin. Slipping inside the nightie, I
do a full turn in front of him and then stop, looking into his eyes as my heart kicks hard against my chest.
Before I know it, he’s on me.
He leans in, parting his lips. Slowly, he brushes his lips against mine, and then we succumb to a
kiss, one full of desire, our tongues aching for each other.
He grabs me by the hair, forcing me to throw my head back as his lips reach for my neck, and I can
feel my pussy growing wet with anticipation.
Finally letting go of my hair, he allows his hands down the side of my body, taking them to the
nightgown, and pulling it by the lace in the front, his fingers brushing over my breasts.
After giving my breasts a squeeze over the fabric, he continues sliding his hands down my body and
lowers himself, his fingers going for the hemline of my nightgown.
He hooks his fingers on it and pushes it all up, revealing my naked breasts as I lift my arms,
allowing him to undress me.
After glancing at my naked breasts, a hunger dancing on his eyes, he lowers himself again. He
pushes my thong to the side, his fingers reaching my clit and rubbing around it in circles. Then, he grabs
the elastic band on my thong and pushes it down my legs with a single movement, exposing my soaking
wet pussy.
Each second we’re not touching is a complete waste of our precious time, so, I reach for his shirt
quickly, unbuttoning it all and taking it off him as fast as I can. My lips reach for his again, as my hands
start sliding down his chest, draw a path until they reach his belt.
Still kissing him fiercely—and without seeing what the hell I’m doing—I allow instinct to guide me
and start to unbuckle his belt. Then I press my hand on his crotch; his cock is already pulsing inside his
pants, aching for my touch.
I pull his belt out and then pull the zipper down. Pulling out from our kiss, I grab his pants with both
hands and push them down as hard as I can.
Then I press my hand again on him, feeling the bulging shape underneath his boxer briefs.
I go down on my knees and lean in, taking my mouth toward his thighs. I lick the fabric of his boxer
briefs, making him go crazy. He reacts by moving his hips closer to me, giving me no choice but to grab
his boxers and yank them down his legs.
His huge cock springs free in a fraction of a second, almost hitting me in the face. Oh God, I want it
in my mouth, and I want it right now.
Stepping out of his clothes, he kicks them to the side and then offers me a wicked grin.
“Is this what you want?” He teases me, wrapping his fingers around the base of his shaft.
 He holds his cock up and away from my mouth. Smiling, I push my tongue out from between my
lips; instead of his cock, though, he places his balls on my tongue. I can tell they’re full and more than
ready for my lips.
After sucking on both of them, I roll my tongue back and forth over the tip of his cock. I wrap my
lips around the head, taking only the tip inside of my mouth.
With my eyes closed, I lick his tip softly, tasting the little drops of pre-cum on my tongue, and
savoring its saltiness. Then, I start kissing his shaft before taking it all in my mouth.
I start slowly, and as he moves his thighs towards me, I begin to go faster.
I move my mouth down to allow his cock to slide in deeper. Once it hits the back of my throat, I
can’t help but be surprised at myself for taking such a huge cock all the way inside me. But I can do better.
Grabbing the back of my head, he pushes in even deeper. His cock is slipping in deeper, his balls
resting on my chin. His hand is gripping my hair tightly, forcing me to take that massive shaft even deeper
into my throat. He isn´t being gentle now but, God, I love it when he’s being rough.
Placing a hand on either side of my head, Todd pushes his cock harder into my mouth.
I stretch my lower jaw open, my lips stretching to take his length all the way to base of his cock.
I bob my head faster, keeping my hand wrapped around his shaft at the same time as he grabs me by
the hair. With my other hand, I reach for my breasts, giving them a hard squeeze.
Then I slide my hand down to my pussy, massaging its outer and inner lips. With my heart tightening
up inside my chest, I place my middle finger over my clit and start rubbing it while I spread my legs just a
little.
Todd is looking down at me, his eyes burning on mine, and I can feel his cock pulsing inside my
mouth. I try to pull back, but he simply continues, his hands holding my hair tight.
“I want to cum in your mouth,” he tells me with a grin.
I smile at him, take my hand out of his cock and continue moving my head in a pendulum motion,
sucking him harder and faster over all his length, all the while pleasuring myself too.
He groans, his breathing becoming harder as his hands intensify the pressure on my head, his
fingertips digging into my scalp.
I keep going until his cock starts spasming violently inside my mouth, unleashing a torrent of cum
and filling me up. His semen starts dripping off my mouth, going down to my chin and breasts, and only
then does he pull back, his cock still pulsing hard.
Still looking at him, I swallow all his seed. I let go of my clit and rub his cum on my breasts with
both hands, smearing his milky seed all over my skin. Without taking my eyes off him, I place my cum-
coated fingers over my lips and suck them dry, one at a time.
“Fuck, you’ll be the end of me,” he groans, that delicious smile still on his lips. “But the night is
just starting, babe. How do you feel about taking a shower?” He asks me, offering me his hand.
“Lead the way” I smile as I get up.
 We step inside his huge bathroom—seriously, who needs a bathroom this big? —and he turns the
faucet on.
A few seconds later, we’re under the warm running water. He starts gently, soaping me up, but it
doesn’t take long before we’re kissing savagely under the running water.
As our tongues wrestle one another, his hands slide down to my pussy and he starts massaging it.
Wasting no time, he pushes one finger inside me and starts sliding it in and out. Soon there are two
fingers inside me, moving hard and fast in a hooking motion. Then, three fingers. Sweet Christ, he’s
driving me insane. I scream, the sound of my voice drowned out by the water.
I need to feel his cock inside my aching pussy, and I need to feel it right now.
“Fuck me, Todd,” I plead, looking straight into his eyes. As a reply, he merely grins at me. Not yet,
his gaze seems to say.
He pulls out his fingers, and I moan hard as I feel them slide out from my pussy. Then he places his
hands on my waist and turns my body around, making me face the wall as he slaps my ass.
My hands are pressed against the wall as he runs his finger from my pussy to my ass crack. He
massages it softly, and then presses one finger against my ass hole; slowly, he starts sliding it in.
He starts out by fingering my ass, but I want more than just his fingers. Knowing that, he grabs his
cock and presses its tip on my hole. Then, he goes in, appreciating my tightness as his cock slides in inch
by slow inch.
My inner walls stretch, trying to accommodate the thickness of his cock. When he has his cock fully
buried deep in my ass, he begins thrusting, a coming and going motion, increasing his pace.
I take one hand to my pussy and start pleasuring myself, rubbing my clit in circles with my index
and middle finger.
Taking my thumb to my clit, I slide two fingers inside me, my whole skin prickling as I do it. Todd
is now fucking my ass as hard and fast as he can, my walls tightening around his shaft.
I close my eyes, focusing on everything that’s happening around me—the running water, his cock
inside me, my fingers buried in my pussy, and my thumb rubbing my clit.
I explode. There’s simply no better way to put it.
As I moan, scream and shout, he gradually slows his pace before he final pulls out his cock.
“Oh, fuck…” I sigh, my legs turning into jelly.
Closing my eyes, I allow him to soap me up again, his long fingers softly moving over my skin.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers into my ear, and I open my eyes to look at him.
“I love it when you say it like that.”
“What do you say we go back to the bedroom?” he asks me with a grin. “I’m not done with you. Not
yet,” he continues, a devilish smile on his face, his warm eyes piercing my soul.
I’m still breathing so hard from the orgasm he just gave me, that I can’t even reply. I just smile at
him and nod my head, agreeing with him.
 My legs still shaking, I try to get out of the shower but I almost fall on the floor. He picks me up
fast, one arm around my waist, and then wraps a cotton towel around my body. Gently, he pats me dry and
then leads me back to the bedroom, only stopping when we reach the bed.
Once there, he gently puts me down on the mattress. He makes me spread my legs and places
himself on top of me.
We kiss, our lips locked in a fierce embrace. His lips start going down my neck, passing by my
breasts and my belly, and going straight for my thighs. My whole body shivers as he licks and kisses my
inner thighs, and I pant as I feel him closing in on my pussy. Oh, I can’t wait to feel his warm tongue on
me…
I grab his hair with both hands, trying to force his mouth to come to my pussy, but he resists and just
continues kissing my inner thighs as I moan in anticipation.
“I want it…I want it now,” I moan, louder than before. I let go of his hair and start pinching and
lightly slapping my nipples, one at a time. I don’t think I’ve ever been this horny and wet.
“And what’s it?” he laughs.
“I want you to eat my pussy…No mercy.” I whisper, surprised at myself for saying something like
that. Usually, I’m not that vocal in the bedroom…except when it comes to Todd.
“You know what you want. I like that,” he grins. “And I’m going to give it to you.”
He says, taking his mouth straight to my pussy.
Giving up on all the teasing, he goes directly to my clit, wrapping his tongue around it and licking it
in circles. He sucks eagerly, and then he lets go and uses his tongue to lick the whole length of my burning
pussy.
I lift and move my hips against his mouth, my fingers tangled on his hair. He takes his time, and I
love him for it…he sure knows what he’s doing. His lips and tongue are taking complete control of my
wetness, and there’s nothing better than it.
As he eats my pussy, he slowly inserts one finger inside me and starts moving it lightly in a coming
and going motion. I moan, still moving my hips against him.
Then, with no warning at all, he slides two fingers in and starts fingering me hard right from the
start, still sucking on my clit. He doesn’t even build the pace—he just goes hard right from the beginning.
I’m screaming now, my throat growing sore. But I don’t care. Why would I?
I can hear the sound of his fingers sliding in and out of my pussy and, God, hearing that just makes
me feel even hornier…if that’s even possible.
My whole body is burning and I quickly reach my orgasm. I come hard, my whole body trembling,
but he continues fucking me with his fingers. I’m grabbing the sheets hard and my toes are curled. I’m
drunk in pleasure…and the best part is, I know there’s still more to come.
He takes his fingers out of me, all of them covered in my juices, and lets go of my clit too. He
places his body on top of mine, pressing down on me, and kisses me, the flavor of my own pussy flooding
my mouth.
Oh God, I need him to fuck me.
As if he could hear my thoughts, he places the head of his cock right against my pussy entrance;
holds it there for a couple a seconds, pressing it on me, and then pushes it all the way inside in one single
thrust.
I moan out loud, feeling all his length inside me…swear to God, this feels like pure magic.
I arch my back, making my hips meet his, tightening my walls around his thick shaft. I want him to
fuck me as fast and hard as is humanely possible. Our lips become one once more, kissing roughly over
each other. I carve my fingernails down his back, and my legs move up to wrap tight around his waist.
His lips move from my mouth to my breasts then. He kisses my right breast and sucks my hard
nipple, slowly at first, while he pinches my other nipple, rubbing it between his thumb and his index
finger.
As he continues doing that, he starts sucking and pinching harder, and I can’t help but scream. Right
now, he has total control over my body; our bodies are arching against each other, colliding in a
passionate embrace.
Todd’s cock pushes its way deeper into my walls, and he groans out at every thrust. His cock is
massaging my clit the deeper he goes, and I just can't get enough of this.
I begin to feel another orgasm coming for me and I just let go.
I scream. My fingernails dig deep onto his shoulders blades, hard enough to draw blood. I don’t
know for sure, but if that’s the case, he doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t stop—he goes even harder—and
I feel my eyes rolling in their orbits.
He thrusts hard a few more times, and only then does he pull out.
Moving fast, he grabs me by the wrist, forcing me to stand up and get out of the bed. I follow him,
my inner thighs slipping against each other due to the wetness of my pussy.
He stops near the window.
“Turn around,” he asks me, his hands on my waist. “I want to fuck you like that,” he whispers into
my ear.
His lips slip to my neck and his fingers trace a firm line down to my lower back. I place my arms
on the window’s sill and jut my ass toward his thighs. He grabs his shaft, presses it against the whole
length of my pussy, and starts moving it up and down against it.
Suddenly, he releases his cock from his hand and slides it inside me. His hands go to my waist, one
on each side.
My skin prickles as he thrusts, and he does it mercilessly. I force my eyes open to take in the view
of the city; down below the roads crisscross in a web of concrete, hundreds of people lining the
sidewalks and going on about their daily lives…and that while the most perfect man I’ve ever met fucks
me hard.
 What else could I wish for?
I move my hips back and forth, matching the rhythm of his deep thrusts. He slides one hand from my
waist to my ass cheeks, pressing it there.
“Hit me,” I beg him and, even though I can’t see him, I can almost feel his grin.
He passes his fingers lightly on my cheek, making me tickle.
Then he gives me what I want; he slaps my ass hard, that sweet pain travelling from my cheeks and
up my spine.
“You like it?” He asks me, his tone a teasing one.
“Yes…I like it…Do it…” I say between moans.
He starts slapping me harder and harder, ramming his cock into me almost too violently.
Then, he pulls his cock out and grabs me by the waist, making me turn to him.
His lips reach for mine as I jump on him, wrapping my legs around his waist. His cock slips inside
me once again and I sway my body, fucking him hard. My arms are around his neck, my lips locked on his,
and his cock is pulsing hard against my inner walls.
Oh, this is Heaven.
I come again, my pussy tightening around his cock, all his inches buried deep inside me. I don’t
know how many times I’ve come tonight, but who cares? I’ve broken my personal record, and that’s all I
care about.
Still with my legs around his waist, he carries me to the edge of the bed. He sits down on the
mattress with me on top of him. Knowing exactly what he wants from me, I place my hands on his chest,
forcing him to lay down.
Then I start riding him as if tomorrow will never come. I jump on his cock over and over again,
rocking my body hard.
I’m in charge, and I can do whatever I want. And right now, what I want is to keep on fucking him
as my life depends on it. I ride him for ages, pushing my way through exhaustion even though my legs have
no strength left in them.
He groans then, pushing my waist down and forcing himself deeper inside me. Then—and I wasn’t
expecting it—he presses his hands hard on my shoulders, keeping me from moving and forcing his cock to
go even deeper than before, raising his hips as he fucks me relentlessly, totally ravaging my drenched
pussy.
I start to scream louder, and that familiar burning sensation starts growing inside me. Here I am,
being fucked in a way I’ve never experienced before…this must be a dream, right?
That sweet burning sensation spreads all through my body and I just let myself go. I wonder if it’s
possible to die from coming too much, but I just push that question off my mind. I have no idea what the
answer is, but I’m close enough to finding it.
“More,” I pant, rolling to the side and laying on my back.
 He looks at me and, within mere seconds, his body is on top of mine, his lips wrap around my right
nipple. In one single movement, he’s inside me again. This time he starts slowly, but it doesn’t take long
before he starts upping the pace, drawing loud screams out of me.
“Harder!”
He obeys, fucking me so fast, I can see fireworks going off behind my shut eyelids. With each
thrust, he slides his cock almost all the way out…just so he can ram it inside me again.
“HARDER!”
My head is leaning back, and I’m arching my back as his shaft massages my clit. Sweet mercy, I
can't hold back. I’m going to come again.
An explosion of pleasure takes over my entire body. I scream out loud as an amazing rush of
warmth take over my body in waves. My walls tighten around his cock as pleasure overtakes me.
Before I can even catch my breath, Todd begins to thrust harder. I can feel his cock pulsing as he
explodes inside my completely ravaged pussy. Shots of cum are splashing deep inside me, dripping off my
pussy to my thighs and finally, to the sheets.
I lay my body over his chest, both of us exhausted.
My heart is beating so fast. No wonder he has a reputation—he sure knows how to pleasure a
woman in every possible way.
Finally, he pulls out and I roll to the side. He lays on his back next to me and holds my hand.
“That was…perfect…” I whisper, looking up to the ceiling as I try to catch my breath.
“It sure was,” he agrees, holding my hand tighter.
 Todd


My reflection is smiling back at me. Doris from makeup is fussing over something amiss in her
makeup kit.
“I had it yesterday, I swear I did,” she mutters to herself as her fingers swiftly move through the
contents of a Mary Poppins type bag.
“Don’t stress, D,” I say and wink at her. “I’m sure you’ll be able to work your magic with me with
whatever you’ve got in that magic bag of yours.”
She stops fussing and smiles at me over the tin square spectacles perched on the edge of her nose.
“Mr. Alexander,” she starts, and I interrupt her.
“How many times have I told you to call me Todd?”
“I can’t recall,” says Doris with her eastern European accent and goes back to what she was doing.
She’s mumbling something in her own language.
“Lloyd, my man, what’s happenin’?” I hold my hand up for my hairstylist to give me a high five
whilst Doris has finally found what she’s been looking for and is now busy applying something to my neck
and face.
“T.” Lloyd slaps my hand. “Usual?”
I nod.
Briefly I recall our first attempt at working together and cringe inside. Was that really only a few
weeks ago? Was I really an asshole, or was it just a bad hair day for me?
I shake my head. Move on, Todd.
“So, my friend, looking good,” says Lloyd and starts wetting my hair. “Doris,” he turns to my
makeup artist. “Have you seen how our superstar here is looking fantastic today?”
Doris, like she does every day, ignores him, muttering in her mother tongue.
“Doris doesn’t share your opinion, my friend,” I needle Lloyd, who laughs.
“I mean, look at ya, man.” He takes a step backward. “There’s something different about you today.
What is it? You using a different aftershave? Or a different soap?” He pauses and puts his index finger on
his chin in pretend thought. “I know what it is. A woman. You’ve got the definite glow of having been with
a woman.”
Instead of a reply, I just continue to smile. If I start denying the allegation, it will only fuel the fire.
Best to stay silent.
“I’m right, huh?’ continues Lloyd, still working away on my hair.
“You are in my way,” Doris tells Lloyd when they both want to work on the same side of my head.
“I was here first,” Lloyd points out, and Doris snorts.
“Doris,” I say. I know just how to placate the woman. “I think it’s time for an espresso and one of
your biscuits.”
Grumbling, Doris heads to the kitchenette.
I grin. I know Doris only makes those biscuits because I like them. First time she offered me one, I
raved about how delicious they were, and ever since then, she brings an entire tin full of them. And they
are divine.
“Here you go, Mr. Alexander.” Doris gives me my espresso and leaves the open tin of biscuits on
my dresser.
“You can have some too,” she tells Lloyd, who’s smiling. “I take break so you can keep working.”
I laugh. Doris has a really good heart, and I’ve come to realize her gruff manner is just a way to
hide her big soft heart.
I reckon the woman would walk through fire for people she cares about, and I know she cares about
all of us. I heard she was the first one to comfort Lloyd after my explosive outburst and told him if he was
to go she would go to.
A knock on the trailer door has all of us turn.
“Come in,” I call, wondering who it could be. Is Sophie going to pay me a visit?
Shit.
Emma walks in.
The atmosphere changes as if someone turned on the freeze button. Doris quickly puts the biscuit tin
away, and Lloyd swallows.
“I need to speak to Todd,” Emma explains. Doris ignores her. Lloyd nods.
“Alone,” adds Emma. Her tone is about as icy as the temperature in the room since she walked in.
“We’ll just be five minutes,” replies Doris, and Emma just stares at them.
“What part of no is difficult for you to understand? Is it the n or the o?”
If it was up to me, Lloyd and Doris could stay. What could this woman have to say that my crew
can’t hear?
I’m about to say so when Lloyd and Doris hurry outside.
“I won’t be long.” Emma shuts the door behind them. She comes toward me. I wish I had a weapon
—well, not really, but I do feel a little vulnerable by myself in my makeup chair.
“So, Todd, darling,” she says, drawing a little circle on the back of my shoulder.
I’m about to say I’m not your darling when she continues.
“I’ve been speaking to Eric about my problem, and I think we’ve come to an arrangement. We
struck a deal.”
Alarm bells start to ring faintly. Would Eric really speak to Emma about anything, let alone
arrangements?
“And Eric has agreed that I stay on and Sophie stays in her current roles.”
I frown. Something doesn’t add up here, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
 “Really? And what exactly is in it for you?”
As far as I can tell, there’s nothing different being proposed to what’s currently happening.
“I’m glad you asked…” Emma purrs, and her face is very near mine now, too close. I can’t stand
her perfume. It’s sickly sweet and overpowering. “All you have to do is agree to have dinner with me.”
The faint alarm bells seem to ring louder. This sounds dodgy. Why would Eric agree to do a deal
with Emma involving me?
“Afraid, Todd Alexander? Afraid of me? We’re only talking dinner, not a life commitment.”
What harm is there in a dinner? And maybe if I agree to this dinner, she’ll get off Sophie’s back.
Sophie. What would Sophie say about this? She doesn’t have to know, I guess.
Right. She’ll never know. And I’ll do it for Sophie.
My mind is made up.
“Okay.” I nod.
 Sophie


My right hand shakes, and a tear rolls down my cheek. I turn away from the one I love and walk
toward the door. I stop, turn toward him one last time before my feet keep moving.
Time to say goodbye to my old life and embrace a new one.
“Cut,” yells Mason, and everyone starts clapping and shouting with joy.
Filming has finished. The hard work is done.
“Great job.” Everyone is congratulating one another.
Strong hands grab me from behind and swirl me around.
Before I can say or do anything, Todd’s lips are crushing mine. He holds me close, and I don’t
resist. I reciprocate, not caring about the fact that everyone who’s on set is watching.
My heart races and my knees turn to jelly. I wish he’d rip my clothes off here and now.
When he finally releases me, I’m breathing hard.
“Congratulations, Ms. Palmer.” He winks at me. “A job done to perfection.”
All around us, people are cheering.
“Speech, speech,” comes the shout from the crowd.
I feel tears in my eyes. It’s an awesome feeling to have finished this major production.
I clear my throat.
“Well,” I start and look around. Everyone’s smiling. “What can I say? A huge thank you to all of
you. You have all done an amazing job, and you should all be so very proud of yourselves. I know I am.
Everyone has gone above and beyond expectation, and I know the final product will be fanterrific.” I just
made that word up. I think awesome is terribly overused.
Clapping, shouting, cheering.
“Like every project,we faced some difficulties, but it was great to see no one was defeated by
adversity.”
Eric approaches and hands me an envelope. I raise my eyebrows, questioning him, but he just
shrugs.
I turn the envelope over, and when I pull out the letter and see who it’s from, my heart stops beating
for at least two or three seconds.
“What is it?” people around me mutter, and I try to compose myself.
I try and say something, but the words don’t want to come out. I clear my throat and try again.
“As I said,” the hubbub dies down as all eyes are on me. “You all did an amazing job. Some of you
might say, ‘Of course the director would say that at the end of filming.’” I hold up my right hand with the
letter in it. “But I have independent verification to back up my words.”
Everyone is hanging on each and every one of my words.
 “This is a letter from the Oscars, congratulating us on a terrific film and indicating they expect it to
be nominated not for one,” I pause briefly and close my eyes, “but for several categories.”
Everyone around me erupts in more applause and cheering. Todd punches the air and Mason hugs
Alice. I feel as if I might burst with pride.
“Drinks all around,” calls Eric, and I hear the popping of a champagne cork. Someone hands me a
plastic cup filled with champagne.
“To Sophie,” shouts Eric, Alice, and Mason.
Everyone raises their plastic cups.
“To all of you,” I hold up my own cup.
I relish the cool bubbles bouncing across my tongue. I wish Dad could see me.
My gaze moves across the faces of the people who have become my filming family for the last few
months. When they reach Emma, I decide to go and speak to her.
“Well done, Emma.” I pat her on the back. “Great work.”
The woman looks me up and down but doesn’t smile. Her expression’s more akin to having eaten a
sour lemon.
“Good luck with your next project and goodbye.”
I hold out my hand, but she doesn’t shake it. My heartbeat increases, and my elation is quashed just
a little.
“Can you believe it?” Alice squeals into my left ear as she wraps her arms around me from behind.
We bounce up and down on the spot and act hysterically, like two girls at a rock concert.
“Can you believe it?” She grabs me by the arms and shakes me. “Possible Oscar nominations for
more than one category?”
I nod.
“I bet you’ll be nominated for best director.” She grins from ear to ear.
“I don’t know.” Without meaning to, I find myself looking for Emma.
“Hey, Sophie.” Alice shakes me a little harder.
“Sorry.” I force myself to smile.
“Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about what that cow said to you.”
I laugh.
“Alice.” I pretend to sound serious.
“What?” Alice lifts her shoulders in total innocence. “Sometimes you gotta call it how it is.”
Before we can say anything else, Todd and Eric join us.
“Here comes trouble,” jokes Alice before she wraps her arms around her boyfriend.
Todd puts his arms around me. He looks me straight in the eyes.
“You okay?”
I nod. He furrows his brow and gives me a gentle kiss on the forehead.
 “You sure?”
With a deep breath, I push self-doubt away and nod.
“Todd will probably get a nomination.” Alice is still talking about the Oscars and who will be
nominated.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Eric chimes in. “We still have some postproduction work ahead
of us.”
I shake my head and laugh.
“At least one of us has his head screwed on the right way.” I punch Eric in the arm.
“So…” Alice turns to me, shooting a sideways glance at Todd. “You going to make it to your own
end of filming party later or…” she doesn’t finish her sentence, but there is a glint in her eyes.
Todd squeezes me a little tighter.
“Of course I’ll make it,” I assure her and watch her and Eric head off.
I turn to Todd.
“Great job,” he says and takes my face between his hands. His lips caress my face like the wings of
butterflies.
His forehead rests on mine. I’m tempted to pull him to my trailer and rip his clothes off. The animal
in me wants him right now, right here.
“Let’s go to the party,” he whispers.
I let out a soft, slow moan.
“We’ll have time later.”
 Todd


My reflection should be a happy one, but instead it’s grim. Dark rings are under my eyes, reflecting
the kind of night I’ve had. As I button up my long-sleeve shirt, I can’t shake a feeling of unease; it started
to haunt me this morning.
With a sigh, I pull up my pants and turn away from the full-length mirror. Briefly I glance at the bed,
a bed with so many happy memories.
We didn’t even make it to the party. I bet the whole crew partied the night away, but me and
Sophie…well, we fucked the night away.
And it was amazing.
Over at my dresser, I rummage around for my cufflinks. I pull out an unfamiliar object. I peer at it
and recognize it as one of Sophie’s opal earrings; she must have left them here.
I smile at the thought of Sophie leaving something of hers behind at my apartment.
The longer I look at the earring, the more aware I become that I’d like Sophie to be here more
often…fuck, in fact, I’d like her to move in with me.
An alarm on the phone reminds me it’s time to get going. But shit, why is it that my feet are refusing
to obey my commands? It is as if they’ve grown roots in my bedroom.
“Come on,” I tell myself, “how bad can it be?” If my gut is any indication, it’s going to be fucking
awful.
The reasons as to why I agreed to this charade in the first place totally escape me. Because you are
a fool, an inner voice whispers.
“Fucking bitch,” I mutter to myself and take the elevator to the ground floor.
Purposefully I stride out of the Eleganza and head to my toy, my Porsche. I put the pedal to the metal
and roar off. May as well get this out of the way as quickly as I can.
Outside 66 Heaven Drive, I hesitate. Maybe I shouldn’t go through with it? Ah, but what’s the worst
that’s going to happen?
A giant lump of some sort has taken up residence in my stomach. Fool, fool, fool. I should have
talked this over with Sophie.
Sophie. Her lovely face comes into vision.
I smile. I remember why I’m doing this; it’s because of Sophie that I’m taking this cow Emma to
this stupid Hollywood party. Last night it was all about the crew, but tonight it’s about the movie
investors.
It’s a fancy party, not a storm of whisky and tequila on some dive bar.
Fuck, I knew entering a deal with Emma wasn’t a wise decision. I was supposed to have dinner
with her, not bring her as my plus one to this party—one where it’ll be almost impossible to escape from
Sophie’s gaze.
I tried to say no, but then the threats started. A few calls from her, and she’d kill the movie. And
that’s just after we wrapped up shooting. Yeah, Emma’s one crazy bitch.
I leap out of the car and head up the driveway. Any other time I might have admired the elaborate
and very green front lawn and garden, but not today. I’m not in the mood.
I press the doorbell once and wait.
The door opens instantly, as if she’s been waiting right near it.
“There you are, my gorgeous spunk,” says Emma and takes me by the shoulders. Before I can stop
her, those blood-red lips kiss me on the cheeks.
I pull back and retrieve a handkerchief from the pocket of my trousers to wipe off any remaining
lipstick. Heaven forbid Sophie sees it; she’ll jump to the wrong conclusions for sure.
“Ready?” I keep my voice cool and clipped.
Emma nods and links arms with me and follows me to my car. The lump in my stomach is doubling
in size every step I take toward my Porsche.
Dutifully, I open the door for her but do not watch her slide into passenger seat. If it was Sophie, I
would. I love the way she folds her legs under her and pulls down her skirt.
I slam my own door shut and floor it again. As I’m maneuvering my vehicle through the traffic, I’m
grinding my teeth. Why isn’t Sophie here with me?
I can’t get rid of the words fool, fool, fool.
“I still can’t believe you would even consider sleeping with Sophie,” Emma starts, and I try hard to
ignore her high-pitched dribble. “I mean, she’s not much to look at, and has the personality of a moose…
and I can’t imagine she’d be very adventurous in the sex department.”
Emma stops her speech and I breath a sigh of relief. Just as I do, she puts her hand on my thigh, and
her fingers trail up to my dick.
“Trust me, Todd,” she purrs. “After tonight, you’ll be lusting after me and won’t give Sophie
Palmer another thought.”
I push her hand away. She giggles.
“Pretending to be a prude, are you, Todd? I don’t know why. I’ve heard of your prowess in the
bedroom.”
My eyes are fixed on the road ahead. After what seems an eternity, we arrive at the Black Rabbit.
To my horror, the front entrance is swarming with reporters and photographers. I’ll never be able to enter
with Emma unnoticed.
I park the car and turn to my guest.
“I think it might be best if we walk in separately.”
Emma laughs, a high-pitched unpleasant—almost evil—laugh, and a shiver runs down my spine.
“I don’t think so, Todd Alexander. We will walk in together. Arm in arm. Screw it up, and the
movie suffers. I have the connections to make it happen. Or have you forgotten our little deal?”
How could I?
As she takes my arm, Emma snuggles real close into me.
“After tonight, you won’t want to go back to your boring Sophie anyway, so relax.”
It doesn’t take long for us to be spotted by the vultures. Instantly a hundred or more cameras are
snapping away madly, capturing each step we take toward the entrance of the Black Rabbit.
“So it’s over then, between you and Sophie?”
“How long have you been seeing Emma?”
“Emma, how do you feel being here tonight with Todd Alexander, the superstar of the movie?”
“Have you two been an item for a while now?”
Those and another hundred other questions are fired into our direction.
I ignore all of them, but it’s very difficult to remain cool, calm, and collected. My insides are
burning.
Emma, on the other hand, is smiling brightly and waving at everyone. She even blows kisses in the
direction of some of the reporters.
I scan the area. Where’s Sophie? I need to find her before she forms the wrong impression of
what’s going on.
Fool, fool, fool.
There’s that darn inner voice again. It seems to be getting louder and louder. For the umpteenth
time, I regret entering into this little deal with Emma.
 Sophie


I push the oversized microphone away from my face. The overeager reporter has it shoved so close
my nose it’s tingling from the fluff.
“Viewers,” she says as she smiles into the camera, which is also just inches from our face. “I have
been lucky enough to secure a little chat with none other than Sophie Palmer.”
I bow my head a little and smile.
“Sophie has just finished directing her latest feature film. And not only did she direct it, she also
played one of lead characters.”
I wish she’d get to the point and ask a question. The way this petit blonde is starring into the
camera, I get the impression she’s more interested in being on screen than asking me any direct question.
Her head bounces from side to side as she talks.
“We, of course, are all familiar with your dad’s work, the great Mr. Palmer.”
And here’s the inevitable comparison everyone interviewing me makes.
“Did your dad give you any tips?”
It takes me a second or two to realize she has finally asked a question (a rather stupid one), but at
least I get to say something and not just stand here like a puppet.
“Just like I stay away from the sets of Mr. Palmer, he makes a point of not visiting mine either.”
She turns her head toward me and giggles. I wonder how many interviews she’s done.
“Are you looking forward to the film being released?”
I wonder what she would say if I said, “No, I hope the film never makes it onto the screens.”
“Any director looks forward to sharing their creation with the world,” I say instead, and I hope this
interview will be over soon.
“Tell us, Sophie,” the woman lowers her voice a little, “what about the rumors that you are dating
bad boy superstar Todd Alexander?”
Involuntarily, my smile widens. Brief images of Todd holding the car door open for me, Todd
kissing the back of my neck, and naked bodies entwined in wild animalistic passion flash through my
mind.
“Todd and I have been seeing each other for a while now.” I pause. There appears to be a
commotion near the front door. “And things are going well between us. I enjoy Todd’s company and find
him stimulating.”
Just then, I see Todd enter the room. I catch my breath. People and faces around me are going out of
focus, and the world starts to spin.
Emma is by his side.
How could he do this to me?
 I grab my gold pendant and run it along its chain.
“Well,” the voice of the reporter seems a long way away. “Nice chatting, Sophie, and good luck
with the Oscars.”
How could Todd betray me like this?
Emma in her tight black minidress and high heels looks like a tart. Her victory smile speaks
volumes.
I see the reporter make a beeline for the happy couple.
My knees are threatening to give way, and I swallow. How will I get through this night?
My words to the stupid interviewer come back. I just told the world things are fine between Todd
and myself, and here he waltzes into the room with another woman on his arm.
How stupid was I?
“Watch him,” Mum said to me. She tried to warn me. I didn’t listen; I had become too confident.
I blink, partly to try and stop any tears, and partly to make sure what I am seeing is really what I’m
seeing. For the briefest of seconds, I clutch onto the hope my eyes are deceiving me, but the scene hasn’t
changed when I open my eyes again. Todd is still standing there with Emma on his arm.
It takes every ounce of self-control not to throw up. My insides feel as if they’ve been ripped out
and trampled to pieces.
“You okay?”
The voice beside me startles me. It’s Alice.
Mechanically, I nod. I wish the earth would swallow me up.
“It’s okay.” Alice puts her arm around.
I find myself leaning into her.
“I can’t believe he would show up at your party with her.”
The venom in Alice’s voice is obvious. At times like these, it’s awesome to have my best friend so
close.
“I…” I start but stop. I don’t know what to say. I want to leave, run out of here, and hide.
No, I want to walk over to the smiling bitch and punch her.
No, Jesus, what’s wrong with me? I’m not violent. Violence doesn’t solve anything.
I want to run out of here and go home.
My mother would be sympathetic, but she’d remind me she tried to warn me. And Dad.
“Here.” Alice hands me a tall glass of champagne.
I gulp half of it down. The cold bubbles make me cough. Once I get over my coughing fit, I take
another sip, this time a smaller one.
“I don’t understand how he could do this to you.” Alice shakes her head. “It’s your party. And he
brings her.”
Surreal, this entire scene is surreal.
 If my heart hadn’t just been smashed into millions of little pieces, I might even laugh at it. A movie
scene couldn’t have been written better than what’s playing out in real life.
Of course, that’s often the way, isn’t it? Life is stranger than fiction.
I don’t want to look at the happy couple, but I can’t help staring. Trouble is, Todd looks so
goddamn gorgeous tonight.
We had planned to arrive separate but leave together. Somewhere our plans obviously diverted.
As I continue to stare, he looks over to me.
Try as I might, I cannot see remorse or even the slightest hint of compunction in his face. I also
don’t see any attempt on his part to come over and explain what’s going on.
“Arrogant prick,” I tell myself, “he’s not worth crying over.” To drown my sorrow, I grab another
glass of wine. This will be one long night.
“You look gorgeous,” a kind, familiar voice says from behind me.
“Thanks, Mason,” I finally force my eyes away from the awful scene and look at my dear friend
Mason.
“That dress is gorgeous. Red suits you.”
I pat Mason’s arm, stand on tiptoes, and kiss him on his cheek.
 Todd


Sophie keeps eye contact for what seems like an eternity, but then she looks away. My eyes plead
with her, but she doesn’t seem to understand. I will her to look at me again, but she doesn’t.
Instead, she turns toward Mason. Why would she turn toward him of all the people in the room?
I want to walk over and tell her it’s not what it seems, but Emma is holding tightly onto my hand.
Unless I make a scene, I’m trapped here with the evil Witch of the West until who knows how long.
What’s wrong with Alice? Why aren’t any of them coming over to speak to me? And Eric, where
the fuck is Eric? Eric, who allegedly knows all about this.
I’m clenching my teeth so hard it hurts. My hands are by my side and balled into fists. I curse Emma
silently. She really is a class A bitch. I need to fix things before they get out of hand.
Fuck the deal—I’m going over to set things straight.
Emma doesn’t let go of me. Instead, she leans into me and whispers.
“You’re not going to renege on our little deal, are you? Remember, all it takes is a few calls and
offhand comments to reporters for Sophie’s little film to become a shit show.”
There’s that over powering perfume again nearly making me sick.
I shake my head.
“Good,” she murmurs and her lips brush over my cheeks.
Repulse builds in me.
Somewhere across the crowded room, I see Jordan. I try to get his attention, so he could come over.
I want to ask him to pass a message to Sophie, but the bastard is deliberately ignoring me. Has Emma let
him in on the deal?
Emma works her magic around the room. She’s a pro at making her way from group to group,
staying only a few minutes if the people bore her, and longer if she thinks they may be of use to her.
As we socialize, she makes sure she is making body contact with me at all times. Obviously, she’s
flaunting being with me. Try as I might to keep a professional distance between us, Emma does the
opposite.
She’s either resting her hand on my shoulder, or she puts her whole arm around my waist. A couple
of times, she kisses me on the cheek. Each time, I wipe off the offending lipstick.
“Let’s sit down, darling,” Emma purrs and points to a black leather lounge in front of a small round
table. On the other side are several mushroom type stools, all of them occupied.
Grudgingly, I sit down. Promptly, Emma seats herself on top of me.
“Tone it down, will you?” I growl into her ear. At the same time, I grab her by the hips to push her
off me.
“Darling, please not in front of all these people,” she shrieks and slides onto the couch next to me.
 I’m about to say something, but she’s already talking to the people across from us.
“Todd can barely keep his hands off me.” More giggling. “He didn’t really want to come. Said we
should get a room instead.”
She shoots me a playful glance.
“Champagne, please,” she calls to a waiter who is walking past with a tray of drinks.
“Listen,” I whisper into her ear but again, but she stops me.
“You listen to me,” she says. “I’m only just getting started. And need I remind you of our deal?
More than ruining the film, I can withdraw my rights. Yeah, that’s right,” she adds, watching the stunned
expression on my face. “I’ve managed to secure some of the rights. I can kill have this film killed easily.”
She smiles brightly, takes a sip of her drink and continues.
“And surely, little Toddy does not want that, does he now?”
With a sigh of defeat, I shake my head. The bitch does really have me by my short and curlies.
The evening drags on. I pay very little attention to any of the conversation around me. Sophie is
surrounded by people. I wish I was one of them.
She seems to be drinking too much. I didn’t know her to be a big drinker, and I can’t help but be
surprised by the number of shots she’s downing.
Alice is with her and both of them are laughing. Mason is also there.
Mason. Good ol’ Mason.
Of course, he would be there to comfort her. Since day one, I knew Mason had the hots for Sophie.
She is, of course, oblivious to the effect she has on men.
Sophie downs another shot and takes a step. She wobbles, stumbles and then falls. Alice giggles. I
want to go and help her up. I make to stand but Emma’s hand moves onto my thigh with lightning speed.
I stay where I am. Emma giggles and says something. I don’t pay any attention. A photographer
comes over to us.
“Smile for the camera,” he says and snaps a photo. Emma wraps herself around me.
“Can you take another one please?”
Snap. He does.
Sophie is back on her feet. She’s wiping the front of her dress. Alice seems to be saying something
to her.
I wish I knew what they were talking about. Fuck, I wish I was there with them. If I were, Sophie
wouldn’t be getting drunk the way she is.
I wonder how she’s getting home. Just then Alice hands Mason car keys.
Mason puts them into his pocket. Then he puts one arm around Sophie’s waist, whilst the other
supports her around her shoulders. Her head rests on his chest.
My heart is beating so wildly, I think it might burst out of my chest any second.
I should be there. That should be me.
 Now Alice hands Mason Sophie’s bag and all I can do is watch as he gently maneuvers her toward
the back of the restaurant. Clever man.
He’s going to take her out the back exit, make sure she does not come to the attention of the press. It
wouldn’t do much for Sophie’s image to have a photo taken from the venue, plastered and then have it
spread all over the papers tomorrow morning.
I envy Mason. I envy him so much it’s starting to fucking hurt. Why is he the one looking after
Sophie when it should be me?
Fool, fool, fool, my inner voice reminds me.
 Sophie


I furrow my brow. A movement sends shock waves through my head. Who’s working with a jack
hammer at this time of day?
It takes me several minutes, maybe even longer, to realize the jackhammer is working away inside
my own head.
My left hand gropes for something to cover my head.
Nothing.
I groan and moan. Slowly, memories of last night push their way through the hazy fog. Pain shoots
through me at the thought of Todd with that bitch Emma.
Why am I still alive? Why haven’t I died? Surely a broken heart will lead to death?
A shadow of some sort blocks out the streak of sunlight creeping along the carpet, forcing its way
through the curtains.
My heart beats a little faster. He’s here. It was all a terrible nightmare after all. I smile. Life’s
good. Life’s perfect, except for the massive pain in my head.
Gingerly, I sit up and open my eyes. It takes a few minutes until my vision clears. I wonder how
much I actually drank last night. Getting drunk really isn’t my thing.
The face slowly comes into focus. I can’t believe it. Elation turns to devastation.
“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”
Does he have to shout?
“What are you doing here, Mason?”
How stupid I am to delude myself into thinking Todd came here after all? He was probably in
Emma’s arms.
Tears threaten to spill. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.
“You had a little bit too much to drink last night,” Mason starts his explanation. “And Alice asked
me to take you home. By the time I got you here, it was pretty late and so I just crashed on the couch.”
Images of gulping down several glasses of champagne surface in my mind. Nausea overcomes me. I
debate my next move.
Shall I run to the bathroom and throw up or shall I try and ride it out?
Mind over matter, I tell myself over and over like a mantra, until I no longer feel the need to throw
up.
“Coffee,” I mutter, more to myself than to Mason. “I need a strong cup of coffee.”
Mason hands me a steaming mug of black liquid.
“Strong and hot. Just what the doctor ordered.”
I smile at him.
 “Thanks, Mason. You’re a gem.”
Quietly, I sip on my caffeine. What will I do now? I can’t go getting drunk every night—that’s not
going to solve my heartache, is it?
Curling up into a tiny ball while waiting for the pain to subside…well, that’s a plan. Not a good
one, but a plan nonetheless.
With a sigh, I make a mental note to visit mum and dad in the next few days. Parental comfort and
support is what every broken-hearted girl needs.
“Do you want to come out with me for brunch?”
Mason’s question rouses me out of my navel gazing. I glance at the clock. Ouch, I seem to have
slept most of the morning away.
I run through my options. Get some food ready at home, or go back to bed and wallow in self-pity.
“Sure,” I reply. “Let me just make myself a little more presentable.”
I ignore the fact that I’m no longer in my evening dress but my pajamas. Sometimes it’s best not to
ask too many questions.
Ten minutes later, we’re seated in the courtyard of the Breakfast Bar café. To my relief, they
advertise all day breakfast.
My mother is a great believer in a big fatty breakfast being the best cure for a hangover. I don’t feel
particularly hungry, but I order the big breakfast with a double shot espresso.
I see Mason study me after we order. It makes me feel a little awkward. I search for something to
say to start a conversation.
“You know Sophie,” Mason starts before I get the chance to say something. “I have always admired
you, ever since film school.”
My heart beats a little faster. Oh, please, don’t let him declare his undying love to me. I can’t bear
to hurt his feelings.
“Mason—” I start but he stops me.
“No. Let me finish. Ever since film school, I’ve had a crush on you. I think you are the sexiest, most
talented and beautiful woman I know.”
My face goes red. I look down. Poor Mason.
My thoughts go to Todd. Why did I have to fall so miserably in love with someone who not only
couldn’t be faithful, but also do not reciprocate my feelings? Why do women always choose the wrong
guy?
“I mean, what’s not to love about you Sophie? You are just awesome.”
The waiter brings our food and Mason keeps staring at me.
If I’m so awesome, why didn’t Todd want to be with me? It doesn’t make sense. But life’s like that,
isn’t it? Sometimes, the person we love, just doesn’t love us back. And it’s not just me. I mean, look at
Mason—he’s exactly in the same boat as I am.
 “If someone can’t see how lucky they are to have your love, they must be blind.”
This is Mason’s way of telling me it’s Todd who’s missing out. Really, what he should tell me is
that I’m blind for buying Todd’s act. Stupid, stupid, Sophie.
The smell of bacon makes me realize I’m hungry. I take a few mouthfuls of food. By the time I’m
halfway through my meal, I feel better. The pain in my head has subsided a bit, and the nausea is gone as
well. The world no longer looks so dark and bleak.
“I had to tell you how I feel Sophie,” Mason continues.
“Thanks. I…” I start, but Mason stops me.
“I know it’s not going to go anywhere.” He offers me a sad smile. “I just want you to know how I
feel, and that I’m here for you, as a friend, whenever you need one.”
I smile and reach over to stroke his cheek.
“Thanks, Mason. That means a lot to me.”
And it does. You can’t have too many friends, especially friends who actually care for you and look
after you.
When we leave, we go our separate ways.
I stand in the middle of the street, the sunlight caressing my skin, and I take a deep breath.
Time to stop navel-gazing.
 Todd


The flowers in my hand are growing heavier by the minute. A dozen red roses—each signifying the
emotions coursing through my head and heart.
I run through a number of apologies in mind. I could say something like "I messed up; forgive me,"
or I could just come out and say, "I'm sorry."
I even think about getting creative like rolling a message in a bottle, or spelling the words out in
food, or flower petals. Or even placing a message in a candy bar…like Wonka's golden ticket, except in
this case, instead of winning a trip to a candy factory, I'm trying to win a trip back into Sophie's heart.
No. That's stupid.
I look at my watch. She should be here any minute. The longer I watch the minutes advance, the
faster I feel my heart hammer in my chest. The anxiety and anticipation is intense…like a hand squeezing
the back of my neck.
Then I see it. Sophie's car.
I watch as she pulls up to the curb. She's wearing dark sunglasses but the way her gaze falls on
me…I know she sees me.
She gets out of the car and pushes her glasses atop her head. She locks her car and walks up the
pavement toward her door, her heels clicking a steady rhythm on the concrete.
She gives me one quick, cold stare and it breaks my heart. It's like an icy dagger piercing my chest,
and I can barely stand it.
I approach her.
"Sophie, I'm so sorry," I say, extending the flowers to her.
She grabs the bouquet, hesitating for a moment before speaking.
"Stop Todd," she says, "Don't do this. I don't want you here. Leave. I mean it."
"Just give me a minute…please."
"What do you want?"
"I just want a moment to talk with you," I say. "That's all I'm asking for…a moment of your time.
There's something I need to say."
Sophie shakes her head.
"No," she says. "I don't want to talk to you. Leave."
Everything about her feels cold. Her arms are crossed, and her face is as welcoming as an ice cube.
Seeing her like this makes me want to fall apart. Piece by piece. It's as if someone's perforating my
heart slowly, pinprick by pinprick.
I drop down on one knee ready to do whatever it takes.
"I'm begging you," I say. "Just hear me out. That's all I'm asking."
 She shakes her head some more, and I can involuntarily feel myself raising my voice.
"All I'm asking for is a minute—a single minute!"
And as soon as those words leave my lips…the tone loud and frustrated, I know I've sealed my
fate.
The crease in her brow deepens and without taking another look at me, she hands the flower
bouquet back to me, unlocks her door, steps inside, and slams it shut.
The sound of the door closing and locking behind her causes my chest to tighten.
I throw the bouquet to the ground, watching the flowers bruise. Some petals fall off, and the wind
carries them across the pavement.
I shake my head, pick myself up, and walk back to my car.
I feel weird.
From a distance, I can hear the heels of my feet scraping the concrete. I can hear a nearby car horn
honk. I see a pigeon strut idly down the sidewalk. And everything seems to be moving in slow motion. Or
maybe it's as if everything is muffled and under water. In either case, it feels as if my reality has shifted.
Fuck. How did everything go so off the rails?
I shake my head again as I unlock my car door. As soon as I slip inside, I slam the door shut behind
me and pound my fist into the steering wheel.
"Fuck!" I scream out in frustration. This can't be fucking happening.
I turn the key in the ignition, press my foot on the gas pedal and peel away from the curb, the tires
screeching, shrill and angry.
I look up and see the light turn yellow, and I punch the gas harder with my foot.
I'm not in the mood to be waiting for any light.
The light turns red, and I burn through it like a hot bolt of lightning.
A few people turn to look at me but I don't pay them any heed.
I blaze down the street, block after block, and with every yellow light, I refuse to slow down. I
speed through, even as they turn red, time after time.
Right now, I give zero fucks.
Nothing matters anymore.
I turn the music up on the radio. The tempo is fast and chaotic and it fuels my mood.
I press on the gas pedal harder. It's pressed nearly to the floor when I suddenly see a person—a
teenage boy—stepping into the street. He isn't looking at me, or my car. He's wearing headphones,
oblivious to the world, and I realize I'm seconds away from hitting this kid.
This is bad. Really bad.
In a split second, I swerve and tap the breaks, my wheels squealing and turning away from the kid.
My heart hammers in my chest with the knowledge that I was seconds away from potentially ending this
kid's life.
 "Fuck you asshole!" the kid yells, flipping me the middle finger. His eyes look wild with fear and
anger.
This knowledge…that I almost fatally hit someone…makes me sick and it snaps my mind back to
reality. The fog of all my angry emotions lifts, and I take my foot from the gas pedal, deciding to move
cautiously forward.
Finally, I arrive home, and as soon as I pull in, I'm reminded of Sophie everywhere I look. The
walkway. The landscaping. The front entrance. Everything.
I walk inside, and every piece of furniture makes me think of Sophie.
I can't escape her.
It's driving me insane.
Without wasting another moment, I grab my jacket, pick up my keys again, and leave.
 Sophie


I rub my eyes. Staring at the screen for so many hours always gives me dry eyes. What I’d give now
for a decent cup of coffee.
“Looks good,” I smile at Eric and stifle a yawn. Sleep hasn’t been coming easy for me.
“Good?” Eric grimaces. “It looks bloody fantastic, Soph.”
I chuckle and nod.
“You’re right, it looks amazing.”
Truth is, every time I see Todd on screen, my insides feel like they’re being ripped out and stomped
on by a heard of wild elephants.
“Just like you to be modest. You should be very proud; you’ve done an amazing job pulling this
off.”
If that’s true, then why don’t I feel more elated? Oh. Because my heart’s been smashed into a
million pieces, because I feel miserable and because the man I love toyed with me—pretty much like a cat
toys with a mouse—before he betrayed me.
Prick.
Maybe if I think of him in less than flattering terms, I’ll start to feel better. Trouble is, every time I
see the movie or talk about it, I’m reminded of Todd and what we shared during the making of it.
“Earth to Sophie, are you listening to me?”
“Sorry, Eric,” I smile and shake my head.
“I’m sending it off now to the board for a rating. It’ll be interesting to see how it will fare for the
Oscars.”
I shake my head. Oscars. I’m just pleased the film is made, and everyone did a great job. My
fingers play with my clapperboard charm.
“Let’s see what the god’s will do with it,” I joke and head for the door.
Alice is already waiting for me.
To celebrate we’re having a girl’s day at the spa—and not just any spa. No, Alice booked us in at
Stars’nShine day spa.
“You coming with me?” Alice asks me as she gets into her car.
“See you two beauties later,” calls Eric and drives off.
I flop into the passenger seat of Alice’s car and sigh.
“You heard from Todd?”
I shake my head.
“I don’t want to hear some lame-ass story, so I’ve blocked his number from my phone.”
Alice eases the car through the mid-morning traffic, swearing at someone who cuts her off.
 “Probably a good thing,” she replies, and I shake my head to get rid of those memories of Todd and
me that are taking over my thoughts, memories that stalk me day and night.
By the time Alice parks her sports car in the car park, I’m already regretting agreeing to this. I don’t
feel like pampering myself. I just want to crawl into a hole.
“Come on, sourpuss,” Alice punches me gently in the arm. “Time to indulge in all that Stars’nShine
has to offer.”
With a sigh, I get out of the car.
Fifteen minutes later, we are sitting in a darkened room, wearing nothing but a fluffy thick bathrobe.
Our faces are covered with a thick white paste. Gentle music is playing in the background. A petite
woman is preparing a foot spa for each of us.
First, she massages our feet, and then she lowers them into the warm water.
Soon enough, I’m relaxing into the plush leather chair. The woman now presses some buttons and
the chair starts to vibrate, giving me a back and butt massage as my feet are enjoying their own pleasures.
Alice sips on her iced mint drink and licks her lips.
“This is the life,” she sighs and looks over at me.
I chuckle.
“You look like a fright covered in white.”
She rolls her eyes.
“You don’t look much better, my dear. Wait till they take this stuff off you, you’ll look and feel ten
years younger.”
Laughing is a little difficult right now, but I do it nonetheless.
“I think you’re exaggerating, but I hope I do feel better.”
Alice glares at me—at least I think she’s glaring, it is a little difficult to tell with this facemask.
“You have to snap out of it, Sophie,” she starts, and I brace for the lecture. “Todd isn’t the only man
in town. You wait. Your film will be an instant hit and the men will throw themselves at your feet. You
will have your pick.”
I doubt it.
“I guess.” I try to sound convincing.
Thing is, I don’t want the pick of the bunch. I know who I want, and his name is Todd Alexander.
My brain and my feelings just don’t want to see things eye to eye.
My sensible part is telling my heart to simply forget about Todd, good riddance to him.
Unfortunately, my heart won’t listen. My heart wants to pine for Todd.
Perhaps it’s just human nature to want something we know we can’t have.
“Sophie,” Alice voice rouses me from navel gazing. “Eric thinks we’re in with a chance for at least
one Oscar.”
“Eric, the optimist,” I say.
 “And Sophie, the pessimist?”
I shake my head.
“Realist?”
“Rubbish.”
Our beauty consultant comes back into the room and asks us to follow her.
We leave our cave of relaxation (I think that’s what it is called), and now enter the room of
calmness.
More relaxation music is playing in the background and candles are along one of the walls. My
sense of smells picks up hints of cinnamon, vanilla and something citrusy.
“Please lie here,” says our consultant and points to two tables.
I take off my dressing gown and lie face down on the massage table.
Someone drapes a towel over my backside, and then a set of strong hands massage my body. I close
my eyes and surrender to the pleasure of the massage.
In my dream-like state, I’m imagining Todd rubbing my shoulders, running his fingers along my
spine, before ripping the towel off me and kneading my ass.
“You ok?”
I open my eyes. Have I really just groaned?
“Fine.” I say quickly and feel a delicious warmth in between my legs. Luckily, my face is hidden in
the hole of the table and no one can see how red my face is.
“You’re very tense,” my masseur says.
“I’ve had a lot of stress in my life lately.” I reply and curse my imagination.
“I’ll make you feel better,” she says and keeps digging her fingers into my tense neck and back.
By the time we leave, I actually feel a little better…emphasis on a little.
 Todd


I swirl the amber liquid in the glass and watch it come to the edge and drop down again. Fuck. I
take a big swig and wait.
Wasn’t the pain supposed to be dulled?
If it was, it isn’t working any more. The first few days, it was great at numbing the pain, but now...
How many days has it been now? I can’t recall. Actually, I don’t give a fuck; it has been too many
days, way too many days.
My life has gone down the toilet. Nothing matters anymore.
I look at my phone. I dial Sophie’s number again. Nothing.
She’s blocked me from her phone. I glare at the little device in my hand and I want to throw it
against the wall. I want to see it suffer the way I’m suffering. An eye for an eye.
I try dialing her number again. Who knows, maybe now I’m unblocked?
I’m not.
“Fucking little thing,” I growl at my phone. “Why the fuck aren’t you working? What’s the point of
having a little fucker like you if I can’t even use you?”
I’m not sure, but my words might be a little slurred. Not being able to speak to Sophie is driving me
insane.
I stumble to the kitchen. On the way I trip over empty bottles.
Why the fuck is there garbage all over the floor? I should speak to someone about that.
No matter how thorough my search, there seems to be no whiskey left. If I were of the right mind, I
would go and buy some more. The effort seems too great though.
With a sigh I look around. Wherever I look, I see Sophie.
Her image haunts me. Her eyes haunt me. Fuck, she’d looked so hurt the other night.
I’m a bastard for hurting her like that. How could I have been such an idiot and fallen for Emma’s
blackmail?
The little bitch just wanted to make me pay for rejecting her. She wanted me to be her plaything—
she wanted to use me.
Even my alcohol-befuddled brain understands Emma had been toying with me. Perhaps her
attention had been as evil as splitting Sophie and me up all along.
She probably never really wanted anything from me once I had rejected her. Bitch.
I don’t hear the front door and am surprised to see Jordan in my living room.
“Fuck, man,” he groans. “What’s going on?”
I stare at him. He betrayed me too. Why didn’t he come to my aid when I needed him?
I watch as he picks up clothing, discarded pizza boxes, and milkshake containers.
 “Man, a garbage can smells better than this.”
Fuck you, I want to say, but for some reason I can’t form the words.
With my head nearly exploding, I flop onto the couch and cover it with a pillow.
Go away, leave me alone. Everyone just fuck off.
Jason keeps making noise as if he’s throwing grenades in my living room.
“Man,” I mutter, “can you keep it down?”
“I was going to ask how you are, but I can see I’m wasting my breath.”
I ignore Jason and keep my head covered.
“I don’t know what to do,” I say and lift the cushion off my face. “It’s such a fucking mess. Emma
led me right into a fucking trap, and now Sophie won’t speak to me. I can’t call her, I can’t.”
I’m not crying, not really. Come on, a real man doesn’t cry…but my voice has gone a bit funny.
Coffee. I need some coffee.
As I throw the cushion off my face and try to get up, I fall flat on my face. Ouch. The grenades I
thought Jason was throwing are now going off inside my head.
It takes me several minutes to get my bearings and even longer to get to my feet.
There’s something severely wrong with me. Have I got a terminal illness? Maybe.
Would Sophie feel sorry for me and come to nurse me in my dying days? I stay on the ground and
lean against the back of the couch.
The images of Sophie applying a cool washer to my sweaty face are a nice thought. But then who
would tell her I’m dying?
She’d read about it, fool.
Yes, the press would have a field day with the news of Todd Alexander dying of mysterious illness.
Maybe it isn’t that mysterious, maybe it is cancer.
Or a fucking broken heart.
I shudder. I hear Jason on the phone. I’m not quite sure what he’s saying, but he seems to be talking
to someone.
“House cleaning will be here in five,” Jason announces and throws me a dressing gown. “You
might want to cover up.”
What the fuck does he mean now? Slowly my gaze travels down my body and onto my legs.
Fuck. I’m not wearing any pants.
Just as the doorbell rings, I put on some pants.
“Drink this,” he says, and it’s a command, not a question. Jason hands me a green-looking drink.
“Are you trying to poison me?”
Jason pulls a face. “Man, you’re doing that all by yourself. I’m trying to help you.”
I shake my head. He calls this help? Fake friend.
Gingerly, my lips curl around the glass, and I take a sip.
 Argh. I grimace; it’s disgusting.
“Just drink and don’t think about it.”
I do as he commands. His face leaves me little choice.
As a reward, he hands me my espresso.
Ah. That’s better.
I look at him.
“So, man, how do I fix this stuff up? I can’t believe it’s such a mess.”
Jason shakes his head.
“What are you asking me for?” He is standing in front of me, arms folded in front of his chest.
“Sophie’s film just got nominated for five Oscar categories, and here you are…wallowing.”
“What?” I ask him, cocking one eyebrow at him. Oscar nominations? How long have I been on this
bender? Ten fucking years? “Jesus.”
“Yeah. And you got nominated for best actor.”
“Shit,” I mutter, and even though I should feel happy about this…I don’t. Not without Sophie by my
side. “Still, that doesn’t do shit for me. It doesn’t fucking help. What am I supposed to do?”
“Man, I have no idea.” Jason sighs.
“I just thought,” I mutter and go back to drinking.
“Why don’t you just go viral? It’s what you do best, isn’t it?”
Viral? I mull the words over. Now here’s an idea. Go viral.
Not a bad idea, not at all. Jason might actually be onto something.
A glimmer of hope ignites deep within me.
Time to start devising a plan.
 Sophie


I twirl around my full-length mirror. I hardly recognize myself. Self-doubt creeps in.
Can I pull this off? I wrinkle my nose. Is the dress too tight, too sexy?
God, I can’t believe this is really happening. It’s crazy to think that I’ve made it to the Oscars.
Yup, that’s right—I got those nominations, and the big day has finally come. I have to admit, I’m
excited. These past few weeks were hard—Todd has never left my mind—and I need the distraction.
For the occasion, I’ve purchased a full-length red dress. It’s cut very low on the back and goes all
the way up to my neck on the front. My hair has been delicately up styled.
The makeup artist has done a brilliant job too. Sophisticated, sexy, and beautiful. I force a smile to
my lips.
“Enjoy the night,” I tell myself and turn away from my reflection. The pain of not going to the most
important event of the year with Todd is buried deep down, but I can still feel it.
On the way out, I grab a matching purse and spray my favorite perfume in the air to walk under it.
Mason whistles when he sees me. Like a true gentleman, he opens the door of the limo and helps
me glide into the seat. Before I do so, he gives me a little kiss on the cheek—a great friend and true
gentleman.
At the venue, our limo joins the queue of other limos, and for a few minutes we creep along before
it is out turn to alight. I watch the street lined with keen onlookers.
We link arms and walk along the red carpet. I can’t believe I’m really here at the Oscar’s with my
loyal film crew, hoping to win not one but maybe two or three Oscars.
“Pinch me, will you?” I whisper to Mason, who puts his arm around my waist. I’m happy he agreed
to escort me—at least I won’t feel like a widow tonight.
We pose for photographs and soak in the atmosphere. All the big names are here. I feel like
Cinderella at the ball.
Briefly I even manage to forget my broken heart.
Reporters are shouting questions, but I try and ignore them. Someone yells something about Todd
and my affair, but I’m determined not to let anything ruin my night.
A loud cheer erupts from the onlookers, and I see a black limo pull up with one of the superstars.
She’s wearing a daring nude-colored dress. Several of the men in the vicinity start to drool.
I keep walking along with Mason. The red carpet seems to stretch on forever.
This time there’s an almighty roar, and I see another limo unload another A-list superstar.
I catch a glimpse of a designer suit. The actor looks familiar, but I can’t recall his name.
The girls are shouting at him, and I think someone is throwing a pair of panties at him. On his arm
hangs a half-naked, big-busted blonde. Briefly I wonder if he’s hired the girl or if they are an item.
 Superstar after superstar arrives. Thankfully I still haven’t seen Todd.
All around me cameras are clicking away and flashlights are going off constantly. I hope my dress
won’t feature in one of those trashy headlines of Oscar’s worst dresses for the year.
Mum chose it with me, and she’s an expert in what to wear to these occasions. In all her years by
my father’s, she has never received a bad rap for her sense of dress.
Mason says something and points. I can’t understand him over the deafening roar of more cheering.
Whoever just pulled up must be a real crowd favorite. I’m swept away by the wave of excitement.
This is my night. I’m at the Oscars, and my film has been nominated for no less than five categories.
Alice, Eric, Mason, and I watched the announcements on TV, and it was a fantastic night.
When Dad heard the news, he was thrilled. He told me to just enjoy the night and not get too upset
if the film didn’t get the awards it had been nominated for.
I touch my clapperboard pendant. As usual, I have it around my neck. It’s my pride and joy…and
my connection to Dad.
Finally we’re at the entrance to the Oscars. Just inside is a life-size statue of the smaller version
we all vie for. My heart beats a little faster. I smile at Mason.
Alice rushes toward us.
“Can you believe it?” she squeals and grabs my hands. “You look amazing, Sophie.”
“Thanks, Alice.” I give her a brief hug. “You look just gorgeous. That dress is you.”
Alice spins three hundred and sixty degrees. She is in a long black V-neck tight-fitting dress.
Around her neck is a gold necklace with a glass sand-art heart pendant, her eighteenth birthday present
from my family.
She’s also wearing the matching earrings. They complement the outfit perfectly.
“I’ll show you where we are sitting.” She leads the way. We walk past little groups of huddled
people. The hubbub is amazing.
As usual the night starts with a quirky, interesting, funny, and slightly controversial opening.
I laugh loud at the jokes and the digs. I’m carried away in the moment. All too soon, the emcee
starts introducing actors to read out nominations and winners.
I clap enthusiastically for the winners, and I feel for those who lose.
And then the big moment arrives.
Best male actor. The nominations are announced. Todd is one of them. I resist the urge to crane my
neck and find him in the larger crowded room.
As each name is read out, there’s a little film clip of various scenes of their film on the oversized
screen. My heart beats a little faster as I’m taken back to filming times…to happier times.
As the emcee opens the envelope, every muscle in my body tenses. I’m on the edge of my seat. For
Todd’s sake, I hope he wins.
“Please let him win,” I mutter over and over and squeeze both thumbs tightly.
 A hush falls over the crowd as the emcee reads first to himself before announcing the winner to the
crowd.
“And the winner is Todd Alexander.”
The audience erupts with applause. I join in.
I can’t help but be happy for him.
 Todd


I sit in my chair and try and ignore the feeling of insects swarming in the pit of my stomach. So far,
I’ve refused to have a drink. If I’m going to do this, it’s got to be done properly.
I reckon I’m only going to get one chance, and that chance might be tonight. If I blow it, I can kiss
my dreams, my life, goodbye.
Occasionally I glance around, but I can’t see where she’s sitting. It probably doesn’t matter. It might
even be better not to know where she is.
I’m sitting alone tonight, and a small army of reporters has already questioned me about it. Emma
wanted to tag along, but I just gave her the biggest fuck you I could muster.
We’re at the Oscars now—the control she had over me is now gone, and I don’t give a fuck about
her. I never did.
There’s only one woman I care about.
Only one woman I love.
“And now, distinguished guests, for the moment we have all been waiting for.” A dramatic pause by
the emcee, drum roll, and he continues, “Best male actor nominations...”
I tune out to the ramblings of previous winners and nominations. I’m only interested in one thing.
Am I the winner?
I hold my breath as he opens the envelope and holds the paper in front of his face, clearly reading it
to himself before announcing.
“And the winner for this year’s best male actor is Todd Alexander.”
I punch the air. Yes. I fucking did it.
I get up and take a little bow. All around me, people are applauding and some are standing.
With a spring in my step, I bounce toward the stage. I wave, I bow, and I smile. I need to look the
part.
As I approach the emcee and microphone, all I think of is the woman of my dreams. Only one
person is on my mind—Sophie.
Images of Sophie drown out everything else. She’s in my mind, large as life on screen as a scene
from the movie is played.
Sophie.
This better work.
I need to go big or go home.
I accept the little gold Oscar and hold him up in the air. More applause, more people stand.
Now I wish I could see her. Is she applauding or is she hanging on Mason’s arm?
I clear my throat and smile.
 “Thank you,” I start, and a hush falls over the audience. I have the floor. It’s now or never.
I feel as if I’m auditioning for my very first acting role. Butterflies are multiplying rapidly in my
stomach, and the palms of my hands are sweaty.
I’m staring out at a sea of dark shapes. Try as I might, I can’t make out anyone I know.
“Like everyone else, I want to assure you I’m not going to keep rambling on up here. I know we are
all mindful of the time and there are plenty of more important awards to be handed out yet.”
Polite laughter.
“First, I want to say how lucky and privileged I feel for my acting being recognized by such a
distinguished authority as the Oscars. It’s a real honor to be joining some of the true greats we saw a few
minutes ago.”
More applause. I smile and rest one hand on the lectern. If it wasn’t for my inner turmoil, I think I’d
really enjoy this.
“Of course, there are many people to thank, and let me tell you right now I’m terribly sorry if you
do not get a mention—it is not deliberate. We all know making a movie takes an enormous amount of
people, and each and everyone from the runner to the producer is important. I thank you all.”
Laughter and applause. I’m building up to it. Get on with it, says my inner voice, and I do.
“Of course, I would be nothing without Jordan, my right-hand man, best friend, and human
extraordinaire.”
I see a close-up of Jordan in the audience as the camera zooms in on him. He gives a little wave.
Briefly I register there is a petit woman sitting next to him.
Mental note to self, ask who his female companion of the night is.
“Of course, I also need to thank my manager and the film crew of this amazing film I was privileged
enough to be part of.”
I take a deep breath. Here it goes.
“As I said already, it takes many hands to make light work. I want to thank everyone on this film
from the hair and makeup team, to the producer, the writer, and assistant director.”
Silence.
“But there really is one person I need to single out, one person who needs to be thanked separately
because she’s the reason I’m holding this award right now.”
The camera has already found Sophie, and I see her displayed on the large screen to my right.
I can’t gauge her reaction. She looks divine. Her dress is out of this world.
It takes me a few seconds to compose myself.
“If it wasn’t for Sophie Palmer, I wouldn’t be standing here tonight, receiving this distinguished
award.”
The crowd is going wild.
“Sophie believed in me when others didn’t. She taught me so many things during this film, both on
and off the set. She is an amazingly talented woman. Not only did she do a fantastic role as director, she
was an awesome lead actor in the film as well.”
Sophie is wiping something off her cheek. Alice is whispering in her ear, and Mason is patting her
on the back.
“Sophie,” I say and look directly at her. “I want you to know I’ve been an ass. But you should also
know not everything is as it seems and everyone deserves to give an explanation. I know I had choices,
and I may have made a mistake, but it was done with the best of intentions and only one person in mind:
you. All I ask is that you give me a chance to explain. Don’t jump to conclusions. Hear me out and then
make up your mind. Please.”
The emcee points to his watch, and the music plays. And I know it is time for me to get off the
stage.
As I walk back to my seat, I take deep breaths.
Has it worked? Will she hear me out? I hope so.
After all, I just asked for a minute of her time on live TV, my plea reaching millions of people all
around the world.
If there’s a God, I sure hope he’s smiling down on me tonight.
 Sophie


Cameras are going off like machine guns, flashlights assault my eyes, and I try hard not to blink. I
can’t begin to describe how I feel.
I stand next to the life-size statue of Oscar and hold up my own. Best film. I did it.
Did I step outside the Palmer shadow, or did I live up to it? I’m not sure, and right now, I don’t
care. I am holding an Oscar, my very own.
Reporters are scrambling to get me to give them an interview. I’m in demand, and I’m enjoying it.
Part of me wants to dwell on Todd’s speech and work out what he meant, but the other part, my ego, wants
to revel in the glory of winning an Oscar.
As I walk back to the red carpet, people I’ve never met before are congratulating me. It feels
amazing; I love it, I love it, I love it.
Alice hugs me again, her arms wrapped tight around me, and there’s a giant smile on her lips.
Dizzy with excitement and pleasure, I see my parents come toward me. Mum looks like a goddess.
Dad is in a black designer suit, as usual, and doesn’t look his age at all.
He’s the first to wrap his arms around me and give me a huge bear hug.
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers in my ear, and now I feel tears run down my cheeks.
“Mr. Palmer, Mr. Palmer,” shouts a reporter, and Dad releases me.
“How do you feel about your daughter winning an Oscar?”
Dad puts his left arm around my shoulder and smiles.
“I’m the proudest father in the world.” He gives me a kiss on my temple and pulls me close toward
to him. “With this film, Sophie has proved she’s not just a Palmer, she’s bigger than that. She has proven
to everyone she is a huge talent. Sophie brings her own talent and enthusiasm to movies, and tonight the
entertainment world has confirmed Sophie has her own name and style—a name and style we will hear
and see a lot more of in the future.”
If I was ready to burst with pleasure and excitement before my Dad’s little speech, I think now I’m
going to explode with happiness for sure.
For years I’ve longed to hear Dad tell me he’s proud, and right here, right now, in front of a huge
television audience, he has said so much more than I expected. It’s my turn to hug him.
As I put my arms around him, I see Todd. He’s on his own. My heart starts to beat a little faster as I
realize he’s walking toward me.
I kiss Dad.
“There’s something I’ve got to do,” I whisper, and I walk toward Todd. Questions are swirling
around my mind like bees around a beehive.
At the very least, I deserve some answers.
 “Come to the car,” he tells me right away and takes my arm.
His fingers on my naked flesh send little electric shock waves through my body. Oh, how I have
missed his touch. I ignore shouts from people I don’t know.
My parents will understand why I have left. Alice is too busy celebrating with Eric.
Briefly Mason’s face pushes its way into my mind. Poor Mason. I hesitate, but Todd keeps walking.
“Mason,” I start, not quite sure what to say.
“He’s a grown-up boy. I’m sure he can look after himself,” growls Todd.
At the car he opens the door, and once I’m in he slams it shut.
I have no idea where he’s driving to, but I say nothing. When he finally speaks to me, I just want to
look into those gorgeous eyes of his.
He stops the car.
I look up and see a park. We’ve come here before, on one of our days off. A romantic at heart,
Todd.
“Sophie,” he says as he takes my hands and looks me in the eyes. “I don’t know how to start or
what to say.”
My heart is racing, and I’m glad I’m sitting down. My knees are jellylike.
“Start at the beginning and tell me the truth,” I reply and try and keep my voice steady. Part of me
wants to throw myself into his arms, and the other can’t get the image of him and Emma out of my mind.
He lets go of my hands and he strokes my face instead.
“The beginning,” he mumbles and seems lost in thought. “Emma…she came on to me. I wanted
nothing to do with her, Sophie, but when I pushed her away, she threatened me. She said if I didn’t go out
with her, she’d kill the whole movie.” He stops and takes a deep breath. “She secured some of the rights,
and she was ready to pull the cord on the whole thing. She’d do it, I know.”
A glimmer of hope flickers deep within me.
“I didn’t know what to do. I thought I had no choice but to go along with her demands. I thought I’d
just go to the party with her and find you to explain what had happened. But, of course, she wouldn’t let
me leave her side. She constantly threatened to destroy the movie.”
Todd pauses again. His eyes are still on mine. I feel tears well up in me.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I didn’t mean for this to happen. I know it sounds stupid, but I really
felt I had no choice but to go along with that stupid bitch’s demands.”
I laugh.
“It’s not funny.” Todd pulls a face. “Of course, eventually I realized the whole thing was stupid. All
I needed to do was to go and speak to you, and as long as you knew what had happened…everything
would work out. I don’t know. I was just stupid.”
“Did you and Emma…you know?” I don’t want to say it, but I do need to know.
“Fuck no, no way.” Todd lifts both his hands in a claim of innocence. “Nothing ever happened
between the two of us, and once I was sure she could do nothing to harm the movie, I kicked her ass to the
curb.”
Happiness rips through me.
“I guess I shouldn’t have blocked you from my phone straight away,” I reply and take his hands.
Todd leans toward me, and his lips come down on mine. At first they are gentle and probing, and
then they become more forceful.
When he draws back, I’m breathing hard, and I know exactly what I want…and what I need.
“Why don’t you take me somewhere more comfortable where we can really celebrate?” I mutter
into his ear.
 Sophie


“Tell me…is this real?” I ask him the moment we step foot inside his apartment. “Please, tell me it
is,” I continue, my voice nothing but a sweet little whisper.
“It’s real, Soph. As real as it gets,” he replies, caressing my face with the back of his hand.
His eyes are on mine, and I can’t shift my gaze away. How did I survive all those weeks without
Todd by my side? Oh, God, I was a fool! If only I had given him a chance to explain, if only I hadn’t acted
like such a broken-hearted idiot.
But none of that matters now.
What matters is that we’re here, together at last. Emma has been pushed off the equation, and even
if she tries to do something to break us apart, together we’ll simply fend her off. Swear to God, I won’t
allow anything—or anyone—to ever come between the two of us again.
“No, this has to be a dream,” I continue, my lips slowly curling into a smile. Forget about the
Oscars, awards and ceremonies—I’ve never felt this happy before. If I had to choose between the Oscar I
got, and the love from this perfect man…well, that’d be the easiest choice of my life.
“I love you, Todd, I really do,” I tell him, my heart keeping a steady but urgent pace inside my
chest.
“I know…I love you too, Soph,” he breathes out, his lips returning me a smile of his own. “I love
you so much that I can’t help but do something.”
“Do what…?” I ask, arching my eyebrows in surprise.
He runs the tip of his tongue between his lips, never taking his eyes out of mine, and then places one
hand inside his pocket.
“I brought this to the Oscars with me,” he whispers, taking a small velvety case from inside his
pocket. I place one hand in front of my mouth as I gasp, slowly realizing what he’s about to do.
“Sophie,” he continues, going down on one knee in front of me, “you’re the most perfect woman
I’ve ever met. You’re sweet and kind. You’re smart, passionate about your work…and you’re beautiful.
The most beautiful woman on Earth. If you’ll have me, I’ll be the happiest man alive.”
With that, he pops the case open and my eyes widen as I watch the golden band casually sitting on a
little plush pillow. He eases off the ring gently, and then holds my hand.
“Will you marry me, Sophie Palmer?”
“I…I don’t know what to say,” I stammer, my heart beating as fast as a sparrow’s wings.
“Say yes,” he smiles at me, that sweet smile on his lips. Will I have that smile just for me, every
day for the rest of my days?
“YES!” I cry out, tears stinging my eyes as he slides the golden band onto my trembling finger.
The moment I feel the cold metal against my skin, I simply can’t resist it anymore—I jump forward,
throwing my arms over his shoulders, and we tumble down to the floor.
“I love you, I love you so much,” I say as I kiss his nose, cheeks, and mouth. “I love you, I love
you.”
“I love you too, Sophie,” he whispers against my lips, “you’re the woman of my life, and I never
want to let go.”
“Promise me that,” I say, nibbling at his lower lip.
“I promise,” he replies, running his hands down the side of my body, his fingers moving over the
curve of my ass. Digging his fingers into my flesh, he pulls me against him, and I feel that sweet electricity
crackling under my skin, as I feel something thick and hard growing between his thighs. Something that
now belongs only to me.
“I missed you…I miss this,” I sigh, opening my legs and straddling him. He sits up on the floor and,
as I throw my arms over his shoulders, I thrust against him. With my pussy pressed against his hard cock, I
throw my head back and close my eyes, allowing a deep moan to tumble out from between my smiling
lips.
God, I feel so alive! And happy—I’m happy again!
“We have some lost time to make up for,” I grin, leaning in and crushing my mouth on his again.
He parts my lips with the tip of his tongue, and our kiss becomes a frenzied one, my hips moving
back and forth as I grind against his cock. I can’t believe I survived this long without Todd’s body.
“We have all the time in the world now, babe,” he whispers as he buries his mouth on my neck, one
of his hands holding the back of my head. I moan softly as he grazes my skin with his teeth, pulling it
tenderly before brushing his lips up and down my neck.
“I know…but I don’t want to waste a single second,” I breathe out, tangling my fingers on his hair
and forcing his mouth down to my cleavage. My skin prickles the moment I feel his lips on the valley
between my breasts, and I let out a lustful sigh.
“I want you so fucking much, Sophie. I’ve missed you bad,” Todd growls, taking both his hands to
my shoulders.
Hooking his thumbs on the straps of my dress, he pulls them down my arms, revealing my black
lacy bra. Moving fast, he takes his right hand to my back and unclasps my bra with a quick flick of his
fingers. The moment he does it, the cups of my bra droop over my breasts as I feel the cool air of his
living room lapping at my nipples.
“Fuck, I missed this,” he continues, grabbing my bra and ripping it off me. Then he dives in,
wrapping his eager lips around my right nipple. I feel it hardening against his tongue, and I become so wet
that I’m sure my thong is a complete mess.
Todd knows it.
Pushing me slightly back, he takes his left hand to between my thighs, moving it under the hem of my
dress and sliding his finger up to my inner thigh.
 I hold my breath as I feel his fingertips brushing against the drenched fabric of my thong, and a
shiver goes up my spine as he slowly lays his fingers on me. Before I know it, he has flattened the palm of
his hand against my pussy, pressing hard with his fingers.
“Oh, God, that’s so good,” I pant, rocking my hips so that I’m rubbing my pussy against his hand.
“I know.”
With that, he flicks my thong to the side and runs one fingertip up the length of my pussy, stopping
right on my clit. He presses against it gently and then, using another finger, he parts my inner lips.
“And this is good too, right?” He whispers against my ear, slowly sliding his middle finger inside
me in a hooking motion, taking it all the way to my G-spot. The moment he finds it, he presses hard against
it while he starts circling my clit with his thumb, that sweet combination setting fire to my brain.
“More than good,” I moan, still moving my hips as I keep that stupid smile on my face. I figure
this’ll be a smile I won’t be able to wipe off my face for weeks. And screw it—I deserve it. I deserve to
be happy, and to have the man I love by my side.
“More than good?” Todd teases me, using his fingers to work his magic on my pussy. Before I know
it, every single nerve ending on my body seems to have been electrified by pleasure. I shut my eyes hard,
grit my teeth, and surrender to the high voltage current running through my body.
“OH GOD!” I scream out, feeling my pussy walls tightening around his fingers.
“More…more…more…” I tell him between breaths, trembling as he slides his fingers out of my
pussy.
“More? More of what?” He continues to tease me, but this time I know exactly what I want. I take
one hand straight to his crotch and, turning my wrist around, I curl my fingers around the thick shape
tenting his dress pants.
“More of this,” I purr, gripping him tightly. “I want you to fuck me so hard, I won’t even remember
my name. I want you to fuck me until my pussy is on fire, and I want you to fuck me until I can’t even
stand.”
Jesus Christ, what happened to sweet lil’ Sophie? I’m turning into a sex-crazed lunatic—and I’m
loving every second of it.
“That sounds like a plan,” Todd replies, slowly taking his hand to my face. He brushes his middle
finger—the one that seconds ago was inside my pussy—along my lips, and I close my eyes as the flavor
of my pussy inundates me. I part my lips slowly, allowing him to slide his finger into my mouth, and I suck
it dry.
“I want this, Todd. I need it,” I insist, tightening my hold on his cock. As I wrap my fingers tight
around his cock, I feel it pulse against the palm of my hand, and that just makes me want him inside of me
even more. I don’t even know how that’s possible, but I guess there are no limits to what might happen
when Todd and I are together in the same room.
“That bad, huh?” He laughs, his grin widening wickedly.
 “Yeah, that bad,” I pant, stroking him over the fabric of his pants. “And if you don’t give it to me,
I’ll have to make you.”
“Oh?” He chuckles, looking straight at me, that lustful glint on his eyes. “And how are you planning
to do that, Sophie?”
“Like this,” I whisper, letting go of his cock and grabbing his shirt.
Pulling at the fabric, I make all the buttons pop out at once, and then I untuck his shirt with one fast
movement. I push it down his arms and then drag my fingernails across his chest, the warmth of his skin
making my mind dance with delight.
Gritting my teeth, I place the palm of my hands on his chest and push him back, forcing him to lay
down on the floor. Moving fast and cat-like, I climb down from him, only leaving my fingers on his belt. I
unbuckle it as fast as I can, pop out the top button on his pants, and then push them down his legs in a
frenzy.
He kicks off his shoes to help me out, and it doesn’t take long before he’s wearing nothing but his
boxer briefs, the shape of his cock perfectly delineated against the dark fabric.
“I told you I wanted it,” I whisper, sliding both my hands up his legs, stopping right before I touch
his long member.
I brush one fingertip over his length, pressing so softly that I might be doing it with a feather, and
then trace a downward path back to his balls. I cup them softly, and then change gears and just grab them
hard.
“And I always get what I want.”
With that, I kneel between his open legs and lean in, taking my open mouth to his cock. I tilt my
head sideways and press my lips against the fabric of his boxers, sucking hard on his cock over it.
“Fuck, Sophie,” he groans, instinctively taking both his hands to my head. I should tease him some
more, only so that he could see what I’m capable of, but I’m not in the mood for that.
No, I need his cock, and I need right fucking now.
Grabbing his boxers by the elastic band, I yank them down his legs. His cock springs free to greet
me, slapping the back of my hand, and I wrap my fingers around it immediately.
“You’re mine, Todd Alexander,” I whisper seductively, slowly flicking my wrist and stroking him
in such a way that his eyes start rolling in their orbits. His grin turns into a smile of pure delight, and he
throws his head back and closes his eyes, surrendering to my touch.
“I wanna be yours,” he groans as I up the pace, my hand now moving so fast that my fingers have
become a blur.
“You have no idea how much I like hearing that,” I tell him, and then I give in to that urge inside of
me.
I stop stroking him but, keeping his cock upright, I lean in and take his cock into my mouth. There’s
nothing gentle or subtle about it—I simply open my mouth as wide as I can, and engulf his whole length at
once, only stopping when I feel the tip of his cock against the back of my throat.
“Oh, fuck, Sophie,” he groans, his hands once more on my head, his fingers tangled on my hair.
Keeping my head in positions, he thrusts his hips upward slightly, and I close my eyes as my lips touch the
skin at the base of his cock. I can’t believe I have all of his inches inside my mouth right, but that’s what
you get when you work hard.
The moment he eases the pressure on my head, I start bobbing my head up and down, sucking him
eagerly. I wrap my fingers around the base of his cock and start stroking at a matching rhythm, the
saltiness of his precum flooding my mouth.
I could keep doing this forever, sucking and stroking for all eternity—as long as Todd’s with me,
I’m unstoppable.
But, right now, I want to do more than just suck his cock. I want to feel him inside of me, to have his
thickness stretching my inner walls in such a way that I’ll have to wobble my way to work tomorrow.
“Ready?” I ask him, popping his cock out of my mouth and going up to my feet.
Standing on top of him, my feet on either side of his thighs, I grab my dress by the hem and pull it
over my head. My eyes never leaving his, I then hook my thumbs on my thong and start pushing it down,
slowly swaying my hips from side to side.
I smile as I watch him take in the sight of my naked pussy, and then I just kick my thong off to a far
corner of the living room. Now completely naked, I run the tip of my tongue between my lips and start
lowering myself, only stopping when my knees are touching the floor and I feel his shaft pressed tight
against my inner lips.
Grabbing his cock by the root, I angle it upward and grit my teeth as I feel its thick head parting my
inner lips.
“I’m more than ready. Are you?” He asks me out of the blue, planting his hands on my hips and
pushing me down, impaling me on his cock.
Closing my eyes, I arch my back and let a thunderous scream fill the whole apartment, my voice
fraught with so much ecstasy I don’t even know if I’m living or have died and gone to Heaven.
This feels too good to be real.
And it can feel even better, I’m betting—leaning in, I dig my fingernails into Todd’s chest and start
moving my hips back and forth, riding him so hard that beads of sweat start forming on my forehead just a
few seconds later. I keep on doing it until my whole body seems to be burning from the inside out.
Todd has his hands on my ass, his fingers buried in my cheeks, making sure that I don’t slow down.
As if!
“Like it? See, I can be in control too,” I tell him as I rock my body against his, my hair cascading
down my shoulders. He smiles at me, raises one hand and cups my cheek. Then, he places his hand behind
my neck and pulls me into him, his lips finding mine in a fraction of a second.
“And I love it when you do,” he whispers then, but his hand runs down the side of my body.
Grabbing me hard, he forces me to roll to the side and we switch positions. Reacting by instinct, I lace my
legs around his waist, pulling him into me and making sure his cock is buried deep inside my pussy.
“But now’s my turn,” he adds, that devilish grin of his once more on his lips.
“Let’s see what you’ve got then,” I tease him and, swear to God, that grin becomes as large as the
universe itself.
Pushing my legs off his waist, he makes me lift them up and then he leans in, my knees bending over
his shoulders. Pulling me into him, he then starts thrusting so hard that it feels like a nuclear detonation has
just happened inside my skull; even though my eyes and ears seem to be functioning, I can’t see or hear a
damn thing.
All my brain can process right now is the sweet, violent way he’s pistoning into me, his cock
sliding in and out of my pussy so fast I swear I’m going to catch fire soon enough.
Now, that’d be a good way to go out—death from sexual combustion. And that after the two of us
just won a couple of Oscars. We’d become legends.
But I don’t care about any of that—all I care about is being Todd’s own personal legend, in and out
of the bedroom. And I’m doing great so far, I’d say.
“Harder, harder,” I breathe out, arching my back and pressing the back of my head against the floor.
He doesn’t even hesitate—he starts thrusting even harder than before, fucking me with such an
intensity that I don’t even know how the hell I’m still alive. My body is covered in sweat, and his hands
are now sliding up my stomach, heading straight for my breasts.
He squeezes them both at the same time, my nipples burning under the palm of his hands, and I let
out a moan so loud I’m actually surprised no window has shattered yet.
“I think I’m gonna…” I start to say, but then I trail off, pleasure’s fingers gripping my throat tight.
My inner walls tighten up around Todd’s shaft and, before I even know what the hell’s happening, a
column of fire and ecstasy is climbing up my spine at warp speed, setting off a violent explosion all over
my brain.
“Don’t think I’m done,” I hear him say, but his voice seems to come at me from the other side of the
Earth. When I finally manage to open my eyes, he’s already sliding his cock off me.
“On all fours, now,” he tells me, and my body reacts before I even process what he’s saying.
Rolling to the side, I go on all fours and wiggle my ass back at him, making sure that he’s enjoying the
view.
Closing the distance between us, he hooks his fingers on my hips and presses the tip of his cock
against my drenched pussy. Instead of thrusting, he holds his position there for a few seconds, teasing me,
and only then does he slide in. He goes deep and hard, his cock piercing me like a spear, and I have no
other option but to let out a might scream.
“I love hearing you like this…” He tells me, building a rhythm. With one hand on my waist, he uses
the other one to grab a handful of hair and yanks on it. Holding me like that, he starts ramming his cock
into me fast. And when I say fast, I mean it.
Beads of sweat fall from my forehead to the carpet, and I have to use all my strength to stop myself
from tumbling forward, such is the brutishness of his movements.
But I like it like that—with Todd, whether he’s being gentle or roughing me up, I can’t help but love
it. There’s something about it. I want to say that he has the experience, but it’s more than that…he has the
talent.
Some things you learn; others you’re born with.
Clearly, Todd was born to be a sex god. All the better—I’m the lucky one, since I’m the woman
with an engagement ring on my finger. Which means that this sex god is mine—and only mine. And soon
enough, I’ll be able to say he’s my husband. God, I can’t even imagine it. It sounds too good to be true.
“D-don’t stop,” I mutter as I feel that pressure building inside of me and gnawing at my mind. I
thrust back at him, trying to keep up with his rhythm even though I’m completely exhausted.
“I want you to come hard, Sophie…remember what you wanted to happen? Once we’re done, you
won’t be able to even stand up,” he tells me, bending over and whispering those words into my ear.
I can’t even offer him a reply. Not a verbal one, at least, because I use all my energies to keep on
thrusting back at him, my ass cheeks slapping his thighs over and over again.
“I want…I want you to come too,” I manage to say, the words leaving my mouth before I can even
think of what I’m saying. “I want you to come with me,” I repeat, my ass slapping his thighs even more
fiercely than before.
Jesus, I don’t even know how I’ve managed to stop myself from collapsing on the floor of his living
room and simply pass out. I guess my stamina is getting better—all thanks to Todd.
“Come…come now,” I find myself saying again, that pressure inside of me becoming intolerable. I
simply can’t hold off any—OH FUCK!
It feels as if Armageddon has just happened inside my body—electricity makes every single muscle
I have twitch hard, and my bones seem to be rattling at the same time. My brain has turned to mush, and I
don’t even know if I’d be able of recalling my name if someone asked me for it.
“COME, TODD!” I yell, and then I feel him sliding his cock off my pussy. Wanting to see it, I look
back at him over my shoulder.
He’s grabbing his cock by the root, his fingers wrapped tight around it, and he’s stroking himself as
his eyes devour my body. I watch it happen in a trance—two hard strokes, and thick ropes of cum erupt
from his cock and land straight on my back, crisscrossing over my naked skin.
“Fuck,” he groans, his hand still moving over his cock, a torrent of cum gushing out of his cock and
covering my body. I feel beads of sweat trickling down the curve of my ass, but then I simply can’t hold
my position and collapse on the floor, breathing so hard I think my lungs are going to pop.
“I don’t know what you do to me, but I fucking love it,” Todd whispers, lying on the floor next to
me. Turning my head to the side, I force my eyes open and manage to offer him a smile—it might be a
weak one, but it’s the most honest smile I’ve ever given anyone.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my entire life.
“I love you, Sophie…you mean the world to me,” he tells me, his hand looking for mine. When he
finds it, he tangles his fingers on mine and caresses the engagement ring he just gave with his index finger.
“And I’ll always love you.”
“It goes both ways, you know?” I ask him, my heart now beating at a steady and content pace.
“I know,” he whispers, and then gently kisses my forehead.
There’s no doubt on my mind—I’m the happiest woman on Earth.
 Taste

By Natalie Knight

Copyright 2017 by Crimson Vixens

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.
This work is intended for adults only.

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 Palmer


I finger the steak, tracing the marbled flecks of fat.
I observe it with steady concentration and follow each streak as if it were a roadmap, pointing me
home.
A well-marbled steak is a beautiful thing.
It's perfection.
It's redemption.
Is it also salvation?
My mouth moistens as I think about the silky texture of melted fat.
The depth of flavor. The tenderness. The way it transcends a moment in time.
I grind salt and pepper over one side of the steak, and then flip it over to season the other side.
Then I heat a cast iron skillet, and when it's at the desired temperature, I drop a pad of butter into its
center. I watch as the butter circles, spins, and sizzles around the pan until it's a melted puddle.
Then I place the steak on top, listening to the hot skillet kiss the raw slab of red meat, slowly
caramelizing it.
I've made my fortune in the restaurant business.
Flipping food. Perfecting my craft.
Making a name for myself.
But I want more.
I want to elevate the culinary landscape of New York City…and the clock's ticking faster than Julia
Childs chopping an onion.
This restaurant here—The Pearl on Park—is a longtime dream come true. I've made my fortune
through high-end cuisine—you know, the kind of food that requires three spoons and three forks just to
eat? The kind of food accompanied by waiters in suits and white linens. I've become one of the most
famous chefs in the world, running a chain of high-quality, extremely fancy restaurants.
You've probably seen me profiled in publications like Bon Appetite, Saveur, Food and Wine,
Cooks Illustrated, and The Art of Eating.
I've made food that'll give you an orgasm as soon as it hits your tongue: beautifully crusted
baguettes, fresh meat that'll make you moan, and warm cakes gooier than a woman begging for more.
But this restaurant is different.
I'm still creating dishes that are good, orgasmic good, but now I'm pushing boundaries. Salty, fatty,
sweet—the kind of food that makes you want to sink your face in and say Fuck it, I'm eating this.
Maybe I'm stubborn, or stupid, or both, but truth is, you have to be all of those things and more to
make it in the restaurant business.
 You see all of these tools in this kitchen—the vacuum machines, the pH meters, the liquid nitrogen?
I'm debunking cooking myths. I don't care what any other chef in this city is doing. If it's working for me,
just get out of my way.
Watch me run my restaurant the way I want to run them.
I have no interest in what the chef is doing next door, or across the street, or even across the fucking
globe. Why? Because the only thing that matters is my kitchen.
And this place here—these stainless steel appliances, the swanky Park Ave vibe, the top of the line
table linens and décor—it's a longtime dream come true.
I look down at the steak, and spoon brown butter over it, basting it. It's now crusted and cooked to
perfection, and I remove it from the skillet. The steak is caramelized around the edges with a beautiful
brown crunch that I can't wait to place between my teeth.
If you visit The Pearl on Park, this'll be one of the best steaks you've ever had, I promise. It's one of
the new dishes that I’m going to present.
I plate the steak and carefully slice a chunk of meat off with a serrated knife. There's a crisp char on
the outside and rareness in the middle that feels like butter on my tongue.
"Fuck, that's good!" I can't help but yell out and slam my fist down on the countertop.
"You made me jump!" I look over to see my sous chef, Brit, walk into the kitchen. She's working
overtime with me to get a few dishes perfected before our soft opening.
Any other day, and this late at night, it wouldn’t be Brit here with me. Maybe some actress with one
of those fake smiles, too eager to have a taste of the Chef—but not today.
I can’t waste my time. Not now.
"Taste this!" I say, looking at Brit over my shoulder.
She walks over, and leans against the counter. I place a forkful of steak into her mouth. I watch as
she chews slowly, and then closes her eyes, throwing her head back.
"My God," she says, shaking her head in disbelief. "You weren't joking. This is the best steak I've
ever eaten."
I'm glad she agrees, but I can't help but want to make sure.
"Don't pull my leg—tell me the truth," I say.
"I'm serious! It's that good," she says. "This'll put The Pearl on Park on the map."
The way she drags her hand over her throat tells me that she means it.
But suddenly, I can no longer think about that perfectly caramelized steak.
Instead, I close my eyes and remember the doctor’s appointment I had last week. The one where my
dreams of cooking the best food in New York were born.
It's an appointment that haunts me and drives me in equal measures.
The sanitized talk. The fluorescent lights. The sterile smell of it all.
Something showed up on the MRI, the doctor said, as I sat back in the hard plastic chair. He
pointed to a white, walnut-shaped mass, and the rest of the appointment was a blur. I left, vaguely
agreeing to a follow-up appointment, and ultimately making myself a promise to cook the best fucking
food New York City's ever tasted.
"This is the best steak the Big Apple's got," Brit says, bringing me back to what’s in front of me.
That's exactly what I want to hear.
It's true; I'm a multi-tasker. I can juggle a dozen restaurants, and even more women, and still find
time to scuba dive my way through St. Thomas.
It's what I do. And I'm good at it.
I'm not interested in half-assing my way through life.
I'm living large, and I know it. But I'm just getting started.
If you can handle the heat, go ahead…turn the page, and jump into the fire.
My name is Chef Palmer, and I'm going to give the world something they'll never forget.
 Nicole


"Where are the vegetables?"
WHACK! THWAP!
Two line cooks look up at me. One shouts back, "We can't hear you, what?"
"I said, where are the—" but my voice is again cut off by the overhead noise.
WHACK!
WHACK!
THWAP!
The noise of construction workers a floor above us has put me on edge.
I can't think. I can't cook. I can't sear a piece of chicken without hearing what sounds like a dozen
drag cars moving full throttle above my head.
The line cooks shrug their shoulders.
"THE PRODUCE—WHERE IS IT?" I say, struggling over the noise.
Danny, one of the two, finally understands what I'm asking. "Oh that. The driver mumbled
something about a missed payment and took off."
I look around the kitchen and see that he's right. We haven't received our fresh produce this
morning. Beyond a few stray onions, we have nothing.
How am I supposed to cook today?
I take a deep breath and run my fingers through my hair.
Stay calm, I repeat to myself.
"Okay, thanks. I'll give him a call."
"Sorry, I figured you knew."
"It's fine," I say, even though it doesn't feel fine at all. In fact, it's taking everything in me to not lose
it today, but I have to keep my cool. "I'll get it sorted."
I walk out of the kitchen and into the main dining room. I look around at the tables, at the blue
gingham table linens, at everything I've worked so hard to build.
Blue.
The color reminds me of my grandmother. I can almost hear her whispering into my ear, “A woman
with no wrinkles is a woman without a story to tell."
I remember sitting on top of her knees, looking into her pale blue eyes as she hummed some old
song from the forgotten 50s; in my memories, it’s always Doris Day and Dream a Little Dream of Me on
her lips, and then she’d just wrap her arms tight around me and cradle me against her chest.
I’d close my eyes, surrendering to the warmness of her embrace, and the world would feel like a
dream—blurry at the edges, but bright and comforting all the same.
 She's the reason I started this restaurant. She instilled in me the love of food and the notion that
anything is possible with enough hard work.
And believe me; none of this was easy.
In fact, it was the hardest thing I've ever done.
I washed dishes, I waited tables. I worked double shifts, and I saved every single penny I could get
my hands on. I once worked through a fever of 104º, and I honestly thought I wouldn’t make it through the
day.
But there was that dream.
A dream that burned hotter than any fever ever could. That unrelenting need to do something, as
small as it may be.
Then one day, I simply made it happen.
All those pennies, the long hours, the exhaustion...I just threw them all into the pan and stirred. I
added a lease to the mix, a healthy dose of anxiety, and then I just closed my eyes and bet it all.
It’s been a year now.
That anxiety remains, along with all the penny counting. The dish washing, table-waiting, and
frantic cooking are all part of the process as well. But now I do it all in a place I can call my own.
The Old Tale is my restaurant, and it's huddled among New York's high rises. You can almost feel
the way time bends once you step inside.
Thousands of people rush by the door every day, barely noticing this small bistro that seems to exist
in a universe of its own; but for the few people that step inside, they have no choice but to leave the rush
and frenzy of New York City outside.
There’s nothing fancy about The Old Tale. No glamorous logos, no overpriced menus or waiters
wearing a suit and tie.
The wooden tables in the small dining area proudly display their age, and even the dim glow of the
lights is a throwback to a time when restaurants and cafés weren’t supposed to be a natural extension of a
shopping mall.
You could dig out this restaurant by its roots, slam it down in a crowded street from the 50s, and no
one would bat an eye.
It doesn’t feel like a restaurant—it feels like home, a shelter from the cold embrace of a city that
doesn’t remember your name.
But sometimes, you can’t fight the city; a small restaurant is just a small restaurant, after all. And
now there’s the sound of drills and hammers, a backdrop to the hoarse shouts of construction workers
pacing back and forth.
Sometimes it feels like I'm fighting against a rising tide that's whispering its warning—get out or
we’ll drag you back with us.
That tide has a name: The Pearl on Park.
 And it's going to completely change this neighborhood—bringing Park Ave into a working class
corner. Its doors are still closed, but I can already feel the inevitable trot of progress. Soon enough, these
streets will belong to expensive European cars, and boots and jeans will give way to polished shoes and
creased dress pants.
Then the rents will go up, and The Old Tale will become a gnarled wreckage lying at the bottom of
the ocean.
"Someone looks deep in thought." A voice breaks my concentration and pulls me into the present.
"I didn't see you come in. It's good to see you, Percy," I say, looking over to find a familiar face.
"What are you doing here today?"
"Just enjoying some of this city's best cooking, is what I'm doing," he says.
I lean over and give him a hug. "You're too kind."
"And you're too humble," he says, returning the smile.
"Well, humble or not, I hope I can just survive The Pearl over there," I say, pointing across the
street. "I mean, how can I compete with that?"
Percy shakes his head. "Don't worry about that place. Fancy flagstone tiles, porcelain dishes, and
silver cutlery don't make a good restaurant."
"Maybe not...but it seems to help," I say with a laugh.
Percy Whitman is one of the biggest food critics in the city. He's known me ever since I opened The
Old Tale, and if it weren't for his early, glowing reviews, I wouldn't be here today.
“I wouldn't worry about it," Percy says. He places both hands into his pockets and rocks on his
heels as he says this, as if it's the most casual thing in the world. "Chef Palmer is a Grade-A asshole and
even though I've never been to one of his restaurants, he's never impressed me much."
"I've heard he has talent," I say, not willing to believe that his presence in this neighborhood isn't
going to be disruptive. "He's become a huge celebrity."
But Percy continues to shrug away my fears. "I doubt Palmer's all that."
"I guess we'll find out," I say.
"I plan to review every one of that asshole's restaurants, including The Pearl on Park," Percy says,
and his face flushes pink as soon as the words leave his mouth. "You'll see."
 Palmer


I dip my finger into the sauce and press it against my tongue. It's bland and devoid of depth.
"Are you fucking serious? This tastes like cardboard," I say. "Fix it."
Everyone is on edge as I drag my finger against my chef's coat, wiping away the sauce. The rest of
my staff scrambles.
We're all working harder than we've ever worked in our lives. I smile, seeing my junior chefs work
overtime to make tonight a success, but my joy fades away as quickly as it comes when I peep through the
window of the swinging kitchen door, and spy none other than Percy Whitman.
The man.
The myth.
The dream-maker and the career-wrecker of this city.
But that's all bullshit because he's just a grade-A asshole.
He walks through the elegant glass doors of my restaurant, and I watch as the hostess seats him.
She's friendly and gracious.
Shit. I can't remember a time when Percy showed up a restaurant on opening night.
He takes a few steps in and smiles, showing off a row of teeth more crooked than a broken fence.
That matches his review ethic, I think to myself.
He removes his hat and tips it in an arrogant gesture. He combs his hand through his blonde hair,
and his eyes scan the crowded dining room.
The only thing paler than his face is the table cloth in front of him, I think.
Brit bumps into me. Her hair rivals the flames of any kitchen, and she has the personality to match.
She trips and spills a bowl of tomato soup on the ground…and me.
"I'm so sorry," she says, bringing her hands to her mouth. She's frazzled.
I reach over and place a hand on her shoulder.
"Take a deep breath, Brit," I say. "It could've been worse."
She gives me a reluctant smile and scrambles off. I grab a towel, soaking up the red remnants of
soup and then set it on the counter.
I look around the kitchen … at the steaks drizzled with the finest brown butter sauces, and realize
that even though it hasn't been the smoothest of nights, it hasn't been bad either.
This is the dream. This is still the dream. We're pulling off a lot of great plates.
I turn and head out of the kitchen. It's time I mingle with the patrons.
Immediately, a crowd of three women catch my eye. They're seated near the bar—three blondes in
red. One of them turns to me and smiles.
I walk over and make an introduction.
 "Evening, ladies," I say. "How are you enjoying the food?"
"Oh, you must be the chef!" one of the women smiles. "I adore your food!" She brings one hand to
her chest, resting it on her cleavage.
I smile.
The two other women blush as I look into their striking blue eyes. If I had more time, I'd probably
sit a minute and share a drink with them, but it's opening night, and time is precious.
"Well," I grin, "Just wait until you ladies try the desert."
With that, I leave them with a smile, and watch as their faces turn a shade of red that matches their
dresses.
I walk past another guest, an older woman in her 60s. She reaches up and grabs my coat. "You must
be Chef Palmer! I just love your food."
I nod my head in appreciation. "Thank you, ma'am," I say, giving her a quick smile before taking her
hand and giving it a quick kiss.
Then I move on and head back into my bustling kitchen.
As soon as I enter, one of my line cooks, Alex, says, "Chef! I've plated the appetizer for table five!"
I approach it, eyeing it with the suspicion. "What is this?" I ask.
"Sir?" Alex says with a blank expression.
"Is this cat food? Do you think we're feeding feral cats?"
"Chef, I don't understand, I—"
I stop him mid-sentence. "Plate it like you mean it!" I say. "This isn't an all-you-can-eat buffet. This
is fine dining. Make every plate reflect that."
“Yes, Chef," Alex says, and hurries off.
I let out a sigh and lean against the stove. A million thoughts zap through my mind, but they're all cut
short when I feel a searing pain against my elbow. I look down to find flames licking the edges of my
sleeves.
Fuck.
I hear Brit. "Hey Chef, I was wondering if—"
Her voice stops as soon as she eyes the situation. Then I hear Alex's voice over the growing heat of
the flames.
"Chef, I re-plated the appetizer, and—"
He takes one look at the flames licking my sleeve and grabs a bucket of dirty dishwater and throws
it onto me.
The flames instantly disappear, but now I look like a used mop.
"Fucking dishwater, Alex?" I ask, crossing my arms.
Both Alex and Brit give me a blank stare.
"What are you two waiting for?" I say. Move!"
 They both scramble off to plate a never-ending row of orders. I grab a towel and dry my face, and
then peer back out into the dining room.
Despite what I currently look like, I decide to walk back through the dining room, and gauge the
crowd's experiences.
As I walk past one table, a piece of conversation catches my attention.
"Look, do you see this rice? It's overcooked. It's like paste. I mean, what chef can mess up rice?”
“And this fish? It's drier than the Sahara,” the voice continues, and I swivel around to see who’s
talking.
"It's not flaking apart. It's a hard, dry slab…a fish brick. And don't even get me started about the
soup."
I can't help but stop and stare when see who this is coming from.
I can hardly believe my eyes.
 Nicole


"He's like candy on a stick," Sarah smiles, sliding back into her chair.
I roll my eyes. "Are you serious? If you mean the kind of candy that melts and sticks, and gives you
the world's worst toothache and puts you into a dentist's chair, then … okay, I can see it," I say, letting out
a sigh.
I love Kate, but she can be one of the most dramatic people you've ever met, and she doesn't have
the most rational mind.
"What's with you?" Kate asks, eyeing me suspiciously. "A bit harsh, don't you think? He looks good
enough to eat—those eyes, and that smile. Don't pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about."
"It's just that I'm not buying into the hype," I say. "Sure, he has the name and the money, and that
Michelin star, but so what?"
"So what? I mean, look at the man! A Michelin star isn't easy to get you know," Sarah says. "It's not
like you can snap your fingers and will it into materializing. And c'mon … you can't tell me that he isn't
easy on the eyes."
I let out another sigh and allow the potato leek soup to slip off my spoon and drip back into the
bowl. "I know," I say, "but this food is soulless. I mean, look at it. It doesn't have heart. It's as bland as
these white linens … and it's cold."
"It's only cold because you've refused to touch it for the last twenty minutes," Kate laughs.
I watch as the soup plops into thick, white lumps back into the bowl.
I didn't want to be here, but Sarah insisted we show up since it's the grand opening for The Pearl on
Park. I could think of a million things I'd rather be doing—like scooping cat litter, or plucking my
eyebrows, or washing dishes, or folding laundry, or—
Sarah breaks my train of thought. She grabs my arm and squeals. "There he is again! He has to be
the sexiest piece of man meat I've ever seen."
Her eyes look glassed over, like she's entered a new state of nirvana.
"Give me a break," I say, rolling my eyes. "Whose side are you on anyways?"
"I can't believe you're even asking me that," she says. "I'm on your side babe, but now you're just
being unreasonable."
As much as I want to argue that point, I let it go.
I watch as Chef Palmer walks between his kitchen and back through the dining room, mingling with
the crowd.
Women seem to swoon and melt in his presence like clockwork, one after the other.
They bat their eyes.
They pucker their lips.
 They lower their blouses to show extra cleavage.
They fan their faces as if the heat emanating from his body is too much to handle.
It all makes me sick.
This chef … this restaurant … is threatening to put me out of business, and it makes my stomach do
somersaults.
That's a cold, hard fact.
With that knowledge, I think he's about as handsome as a cockroach.
I watch him walk back and forth, from the kitchen to the dining room and back again, and can't help
but scowl at his swagger.
Who does he think he is? He's got an ego bigger than Mt. Kilimanjaro … not that I've ever hiked it,
but I've seen the pictures.
"Look," I say, "Do you see this rice? I scoop it into the prongs of my fork. It's overcooked. It's like
paste. I mean, what chef can mess up rice? And this fish? It's drier than the Sahara. It's not flaking apart.
It's a hard, dry slab … a fish brick."
"Um, Nicole," Sarah says, but I don't let her finish.
"And don't even get me started about the soup again," I say. "These potatoes? You don't even—"
But Sarah clears her throat and nods her head over my shoulder.
"I wouldn't, um—I, uh—" she says, her voice catching in her throat.
But I cut in again. "Oh come on Sarah. We all know he's easy on the eyes, but that doesn't mean his
food is—"
Then I stop. I notice Sarah's eyes fixed on a figure just beyond my left shoulder and I can't help but
turn around and see what she's so focused on.
And when I do, my heart nearly stops in my chest.
I look over and lock my gaze on two eyes the color of the Atlantic.
They pierce me like a set of hooks.
It doesn't take me long to realize who it is.
It's Chef Palmer.
And he's … smiling?
My mind races. How long has he been standing there? What exactly did he hear? Did he hear the
part about me talking shit about his food, or the part where I dismiss his Michelin star?
And how did I not know how handsome he was?
It's times like this where I wish I had an invisibility cloak, or a button to teleport right out of this
restaurant. Anything to disappear.
Palmer senses my discomfort.
"You were saying?" he smiles, flashing me a disarmingly white smile.
His teeth are unnaturally white … like something out of a toothpaste commercial.
 I'm in the hot seat now. I can't hide from this, or backpedal.
I need to own up to it.
"I was just expecting something … different," I say.
"I take it this isn't meeting your expectations?"
He knows it isn't. It's a rhetorical question.
"I've had better," I say, standing my ground.
His eyebrows jump in an arc. "Is that so?"
"This fish … this starch … I was expecting more from The Pearl. There's a lot of hype about this
place."
I watch as he crosses his arms and I notice a black blemish on the sleeve of his chef's coat … as if
it caught on fire. It looks like he hasn't had the smoothest of openings, and I find my heart going soft at the
thought … as a chef, I know how hard it is to run a kitchen, but I quickly shake that from my mind.
He's the competition.
He's part of the problem in this city … overpriced, soulless food.
"Fine," he smiles, his eyes still on mine. "Come here tomorrow after closing hours and I'll show
you what real food is all about."
 Nicole


Whenever I'm feeling this way, I like to sit down at the small table for two in the corner of the
restaurant that gets the most sunlight. I close my eyes and let the warm rays caress my skin. Today is one
of those days; and lucky for me I get to share a few minutes with Kate before the lunch rush hour. She’s the
best friend, and employee, I could ask for. But even she's testing my nerves today.
I take a deep breath and gaze out the window into the busy street; his words ringing in my ears. I’ve
replayed them so many times, overlapping them with my own thoughts that they morphed into something
else. An uncontrollable ravenous monster that is eating all my time and concentration.
I chuckle and then frown. I can’t remember what he said word for word anymore, just the gist of it.
Real food. He said he’ll show me what real fucking food is. That bastard.
“You okay, boss lady?” Kate asks full of concern.
I must have a sour look on my face, because she only calls me that when she is trying to brighten my
mood.
“It’s just…” I mumble, struggling to find words. “How do I put this plainly, Kate—”
“Careful now, Mrs. West is here for tea and scones with her daughter in law.”
I’m glad she interrupted me; it saved me the embarrassment of having to apologize for the long
string of foul words that was parading through my head. “He’s an asshole,” I whisper. “A total asshole.”
“A rich one,” she says with a nod over her, ‘Coffee, because crack is not allowed at work,’ coffee
mug.
“Sure, whatever, but I don’t have to—”
“Wait!” Kate blurts out while slamming her mug down to the table, clearly harder than she had
expected as her eyes widened. “Nicole, you’re not…”
“Not what?” I say over the rattling of silverware.
Gasping, she says, “Tell me I’m wrong?”
I want to play it off, but it's like she can read my mind. Just another reason why we work so well
together.
“You’re going to pull one of your, ‘I’m too busy working’ tricks,” Kate says while rudely pointing
at me. “You’re gonna close yourself down and hide in that tiny office of yours all day and night.”
I was beginning to question who I was most annoyed with in the moment: Kate or Palmer. “No, I’m
not.”
“Yeah you will. You’ll treat last night like it never happened. You’ll pretend the most famous chef
in the world didn’t just move in on your territory and issue you a challenge. Damn, girl, people got shot
for things like that in the wild west. You gonna let him claim jump you? Cause I’m not going to allow that
to happen.”
 I laugh. “You’re not, huh?”
“Nope.”
I sit there and watch a plan formulate behind her eyes. My head is swimming. His words. My
words. Kate’s words. It's all a jumbled mess. Should I just tell her to stop and go back to work, or should
I pull rank and tell her it's over—to drop it? Maybe she's right. I'm not sure, and something holds my
words inside my throat, so I let her keep talking.
“You like checklists, Nicole, well, let’s make one.”
Tilting my head, and narrowing my eyes, I give her a cross look. “Okay…”
“Palmer is gorgeous. I mean-yeah-hot.” Kate turns apple-red in the face as she says so. Is it the
steam from her coffee? No, she's been sipping that for the past thirty minutes. “Before he came to town, I
would have said you were the best-looking restaurant owner around.”
“Great. Fine. Sure, he’s good looking.” I shrug. “Yeah, hot, I guess. Why does that matter?”
Kate is mirroring my look, a habit of hers when she thinks I'm saying something off. Normally I see
this during business related decisions, but her meaning in this moment is not lost on me.
“He’s a super-famous celebrity and that alone equals a ton of attention. Just think about the burst of
social media awareness you’d be getting. I bet a hundred or more tweets.”
“And how would I glean from his celebrity, Kate? How?”
“Any fucking way possible.”
I nod at the nearest customers, causing Kate to grimace as she continues.
“All it would take is a couple of dates—”
“Dates?”
“Yeah, public ones. Get people interested in you two, then redirect all the attention back here to the
restaurant, Nicole. You know, we could use the business.”
“I want people to come to my restaurant because the food is good, not because…”
Leaning forward, Kate begins to whisper. “Because you’re sleeping with the hottest guy in town?”
“No!” I raise my voice, nearly spitting in her face.
She shakes her head while crossing her arms and leaning back; I can tell she is frustrated with me.
She wants to see me find a good man. All she wants is for me to be as happy as she is. But Palmer—yeah
—he’s an asshole.
“Fine… Because you and another restaurant owner are battling it out for best of the best.” Yawning,
she sarcastically says, “So scandalous…”
I think a moment. I already knew Percy was on my side. “You think the critics would compare us?”
“Haven’t they already?”
Kate is making a good point. But how can I compete with Palmer’s money and celebrity? I begin
to wonder. The food. I realize. My food is way better. He might have more Instagram followers, but I’m
the better chef.
 “You’re right, Kate.” A calmness washes over me. “I’ll go to his restaurant tonight. He can spend
all his time and money trying to impress me, because in the end I know what really matters.”
Kate smiles. “And what’s that?”
“The backbone of any good restaurant.” I say retuning her smile. “Heart.”
Now I can’t wait to see Palmer fail.
 Palmer


I pace the kitchen, and look at my watch.
She should be here any minute. It's not like me to feel this anxious…especially not over a woman I
hardly know. But this woman seems different.
Just as I think this, I look up and see her figure through the glass doors. I walk over and unlock it for
her.
"You made it," I say, gesturing her inside.
"I thought I'd give you a chance to redeem yourself," she grins. "How could I say no?"
My eyes travel the length of her body. She certainly didn't dress up for the occasion, but she looks
stunning all the same.
She's beautiful, with waves in her hair curvier than macaroni, and she smells like a garden—fruity
and floral, like apple blossoms and amber and sliced peaches and sandalwood.
It's intoxicating.
Honestly, I'd fuck her if she wasn't such a smart ass.
"So what's on the menu tonight?" she says, pulling her hair over one shoulder.
"Oysters," I grin.
She rolls her eyes. "You're joking, right? Does this sort of thing usually work on the women you
invite over for dinner?"
"Why do women do that?"
"Do what?"
"That."
"I don't understand," she says, shaking her head. "What do you mean?"
"Always assume a guy's intentions," I say.
"Because men are easier to read than a book," she smiles.
"Not this one," I grin. "And besides, I guarantee you've never had oysters like this before. So,
suspend judgment."
She sits down. "Fine. Try me."
Before I bring out the oysters, I pour her a glass of white wine and watch as she brings it to her
lips.
She's not admitting it yet, but based on the look in her eyes, she's already impressed.
I bring out a tray of freshly shucked oysters on ice. I watch her eyes light up with curiosity.
"Can I tell you a secret?" she asks.
"I like secrets."
"I've never had oysters like these before."
 "Well then, what kind of chef are you?" I say, laughing and giving her a hard time.
"It's true. Glidden Point Oysters, right? They're rare, and I'm a little … nervous," she laughs.
There's an innocence hidden in her eyes and it makes my heart kick in my chest.
I want to pull her close to me and allow myself to get drunk on her smell alone. I want to feed her
the most expensive foods that money can buy.
I shake my head. What the hell is wrong with me? I need to keep this professional.
I squeeze a wedge of lemon on the oysters and watch their flesh ripple from the acidity.
"You see that?" I say, and Nicole nods. Never eat a raw oyster that isn't still alive.
I reach for her hand. It's delicate for the hands of a fellow chef, and the realization of it makes my
cock twitch. "Here," I say, placing a small fork between her fingers.
She grabs it and follows my lead.
"Move it around in its own liquor," I say, her hand still in mine, and together we give the oyster a
gentle swirl.
She pulls back for a second. "There are other ways to eat an oyster, you know." It's as if she's trying
to prove that she knows her way around food, and doesn't need my lead.
"Trust me," I reply, locking my eyes on hers. "Taste it…and you won't want it any other way."
I take the fork from her hand and replace it with the shell of the oyster.
"Here, hold it." I watch as she grabs it with the tips of her perfectly manicured fingers, the scarlet
polish on her nails flashing against the cold grey of the shell. I lean in close, speaking just above a
whisper.
"Go ahead," I say.
She begins to part her moist lips, bringing it to her mouth.
"Do you suck or swallow?" I grin.
"Very funny, Palmer."
"Bad joke, I know. But seriously, you really should just take it down your throat," I say, a grin
forming across my lips. "It's really the only acceptable way."
She returns the smile, and raises it back to her lips. I watch as her lips part again, and she places
the edge of the shell to her mouth.
She tilts her head back, exposing her slender throat to me, and for a second, I imagine dragging my
tongue across it and resting it against her pulse. I wonder how fast her heart is beating, and what her pulse
would feel like fluttering beneath my tongue.
Would it feel like a trapped butterfly? Or the purr of a sports car?
Fuck, this woman is something else.
She throws her head back and I watch as her throat swells.
"So?" I ask, as soon as she finishes.
She smiles. "That was…pretty good."
 "Pretty good? Is that all?"
"Fine. It was amazing."
"I'm glad. Because there's more where that came from," I say, looking down at the chilled platter.
"Wouldn't want these to go to waste."
She reaches for another, repeating the process. As she does it, my eyes travel down the length of
her body, savoring the deep crevice between her breasts.
"So…tell me," I say. "What's your real motive for meeting me tonight?"
"What makes you think I have a motive?"
"Everyone has a motive."
She considers this for a moment. "Well, your dishes didn't impress me opening night, and like I
said, I wanted to give you another chance."
"Have I left you with a different impression?" I ask.
"Very," she smiles.
"Good. Still hungry?"
"You have no idea."
As if my cock wasn't hard enough already, now it's as stiff as steel. And as much as I want to bend
her over my kitchen, I know I need to keep it professional.
She takes another slow sip of wine and carefully places the glass down.
There's a slight imprint of her lips left on the rim of her glass from her lipstick. She's relaxing…
even her legs are loose and she parts them slightly. She grabs my hand and brings it to the top of her
warm, soft, thigh.
"You know what I think?" she says.
"I don't pretend to know," I say, shaking my head.
Her question hangs in the air, thick and full of promise.
"I think that if you want to see real food," she says, "You should come over to my apartment
tomorrow."
 Nicole


What was I thinking? Inviting someone like Palmer over to my small, cramped apartment? I must
be going crazy.
He's going to take one look at this place and come up with an excuse to leave.
I'm sure he owns shoe closets bigger than my apartment…and furniture worth more than anything I
own.
This is embarrassing.
I sit back on the sofa and take another sip of my wine. It immediately transports me back to last
night—his restaurant, the way he looked at me with those piercing blue eyes, and those oysters…don't
even get me started on those oysters.
They were that good. One taste and I was practically throwing myself at him.
How did that even happen? I've never acted that way before. What's wrong with me?
I grab my cell phone and immediately type a question into Google: Are oysters really
aphrodisiacs?
Google gives me 128,000 results…and I immediately start reading about Casanova, an 18th century
lover who supposedly ate 50 oysters for breakfast every morning to keep up his sexual stamina enough to
bed over a hundred women. Can you imagine eating that many in a single day?
Was that Palmer's plan all along…to get me all hot and bothered?
Well, if they worked for Casanova…
Then my eyes continue to scan the screen, and I see articles about oysters linked to increased
fertility. The thought of that makes my face flush.
Is my face flushing from the wine…or the thought of my fertile body against Palmer's?
Oh God, I'm a mess.
I shake my head.
Snap out of it, Nicole! Now's not the time to be thinking about fertility… especially not next to the
image of Palmer.
If Palmer thinks he's getting into my bed tonight, he's wrong.
Just then, I hear a knock at the door.
Shit. He's here!
I place my glass of wine down and quickly straighten my dress. I take one last look at myself in the
mirror, fixing my hair and making sure my mascara isn't smudged.
Then I hurry toward the door, take a deep breath, and open it.
The sight of him almost makes my breath catch in my throat, and I stand there dumbly looking at him
for what seems like an embarrassing amount of time.
 He bends down to pick up something that he drops, and as he does this, I can see the muscles in his
thighs flex and stretch the fabric of his suit.
A new heat flushes across my face.
God, this man is hot.
I have to keep reminding myself that I invited him here tonight to cook for him…and nothing else.
"Come in," I say, opening the door wide enough for him to enter.
He smiles and immediately starts joking with me. "You sure you want to cook for me tonight?" he
says. "I'm not easily impressed."
"Well, get ready to be surprised," I say.
He walks into the living room and looks around the apartment. I can't help but feel self-conscious.
My place has to be far more humble than the places he's used to.
"Cute place," he says.
"You don't have to say that."
"I mean it," he says. "It's cozy…in a good way."
"Well, the magic is in the kitchen," I say, trying to divert his attention from the mismatched furniture
and worn out carpet of the living room, and he follows me.
"Is this the only place where all the magic happens?" he asks.
I know exactly what he's insinuating, but I pretend to ignore it.
"The pasta should be done," I say, changing the subject.
"Is that what we're eating tonight?" he says. "Pasta?"
"It's not just any pasta," I smile. "It's my grandmother's recipe…every bit of it, from the Bucatini
down to the Bolognese."
I grab the steaming pot of pasta, carry it to the sink, and drain the boiling water through the
colander. I give the colander a shake, to ensure the water is gone, and I bring the pasta to the Bolognese
sauce simmering on the stove.
Then, I grab my wooden spoon…the very same one used by my grandmother, and maybe even her
mother before that, and I stir. I bring the spoon from the sauce, cup one hand underneath it, and carefully
bring it to Palmer's mouth.
"Here," I say. "Taste this."
He places his mouth on the spoon and takes a sip.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head.
"Unbelievable," he says. "That's good—real good."
"Just wait until you try it with the handmade Bucatini."
I grab a plate and place some of the pasta and sauce on top. Then I shave a few fresh curls of
parmesan onto the dish.
Palmer grabs a fork, twirls the pasta between the prongs and brings it to his mouth. He chews
slowly, considering the flavors and textures. He doesn't say anything right away, and instead goes in for a
second bite.
"Stunning," he says finally.
"You like it?"
"Love it," he says. "I've never had a dish like this before. I mean it. You'll have to share the recipe."
"I can't do that."
"You don't trust me?" he says, smiling and stepping closer.
"It's a secret family recipe," I say. "No one outside of the family has it."
He reaches out and brushes my face with the tips of his fingers.
"If anyone can keep a secret," he says, moving his fingers from the side of my face down to my lips,
"it's me."
I can't look away. I can't move. I'm drawn to Palmer like a moth to a flame, and the more he touches
me, the more I want him.
My eyes are locked on his and he suddenly leans down, slowly pressing his lips to mine.
The feeling is instant and electric. Like I've been shocked by the live end of a wire. I part my lips
and feel his warm tongue basting mine. I can feel myself melt into his embrace.
What have I gotten myself into?
 Nicole


“I’m sorry,” Palmer tells me, standing up straight and taking one step back. He purses his lips, and
then looks at me hesitantly. “I shouldn’t have.”
Slowly, I raise my hand and brush my thumb over my lips, feeling the way the warmness of his lips
seems to linger on mine.
“You’re sorry… for what?” I ask him, and the words leave my lips before I can even process what
I’m saying. I’m not thinking rationally right now, but how could I? After being kissed by him, it’s almost a
miracle I’m still thinking.
Slowly, I get up and go on tiptoe. Grabbing him by his shirt, I press my lips against his, closing my
eyes as I succumb to another perfect kiss.
He’s on me then; his lips curl into a grin, his hands find my waist as he kisses me with a gentleness
I would never believe he had in him just a few days ago. It’s still hard for me to understand what’s
happening right now, but…
Does it even matter?
Our lips have touched, and my body’s telling me all about what I need to do next. And, God, I've
never felt anything like this before. I’ve never…Well, I’ve never actually been with anyone before.
No matter—he’s here now, his hands tracing the contour of my curves over my black dress as his
cock becomes hard. I feel it against my thigh.
There’s a slow burning ache between my legs, my pussy becoming as wet as it has ever been. God,
what’s happening to me?
Without even thinking about what I’m doing, I take one hand to his crotch, pressing against his cock
with the open palm of my hand and rubbing over it. Softly, I trace its contour with just the tip of my
fingers, imagining how it will feel to have his long member sliding inside of me.
He feels so damn big. He’s so huge that I still have a hard time understanding how it’s even
possible for something like…this to exist.
His shape is long and thick, perfect, really, and I can’t help but salivate at the thought of having him
deep inside of me…
My heart races fast as I try to wrap my mind around the fact that someone like Palmer is here with
me, his body burning with lust and desire. He’s one of the most important chefs in the world, a wealthy
man, handsome and charming, someone who can have any woman he desires…and I’m just a simple girl
from a small town.
How can he even want me?
Whatever. He wants me.
That’s all that matters.
 Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I start unbuttoning his pants, brushing my fingers
over his boxer briefs. My heart is drumming anxiously inside my chest, and I slide my hand under his
boxer briefs, my fingers curling around his member as if they have a life of their own.
I start stroking him in all his glorious length, going over from his tip to his balls—oh, God, I can’t
wait to feel each and every inch of his cock deep inside of me.
If we keep going at it like this, he’s going to ruin me, I just know it. Now that we’ve kissed, it’s just
impossible for me to keep my hands off of him.
And that sounds so good. What could possibly be better than having my body completely destroyed
by someone like Palmer?
Like every girl, I want the first time to be special. Different, even. I never thought it’d happen in a
cramped apartment and with a man I'm supposed to hate.
But being here with him…it feels special.
It feels different.
I caress his balls with my free hand, still grasping his cock tight while I move my hand up and
down, from his tip to the base, marveling at his size.
I need it inside me. I need that as much as I need air to breathe and my heart to beat. It would be a
sin to waste such a moment…
He nibbles at my lower lip, his hands going down my cheeks and then my neck, to the round mounds
of my breasts, grabbing and squeezing gently.
Possessed by what seems like an insatiable hunger for my breasts, he slides the shoulder straps of
my dress down my arms and then leans into me and starts sucking on my right nipple, pulling down the cup
of my bra and holding it in place with his long fingers. I can’t help but moan as his tongue dances in
circles around it, lapping at it endlessly.
Palmer leans into me, his lips against my ear, and he whispers.
“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he breathes out. “But this feels amazing.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks as he says it, and I don’t even know what to say. Having someone like
Palmer whisper those things at me is better than almost anything else I have experienced during my short
time here on this planet. I could spend the whole day in his arms, with him whispering these things to me,
and I would never get tired of it.
Only problem I can see with that is that I would spend the whole day completely wet.
But then again, that sounds just about perfect.
I don’t even know how it's possible for me to be so damn wet. It’s completely ridiculous. Of
course, my body seems to disagree; every single cell inside me seems to be aching for Palmer.
“I…I need to tell you something,” I find myself saying, placing my hands on his chest and taking a
step back. He looks into my eyes, his lips just a thin line made out of curiosity as he waits for me to
continue.
 “I’ve never…been with anyone,” I finally confess, barely believing that I’m telling him this.
But if I’m saying it, that’s because I want that to change…and I don’t know what to think of that.
Maybe it’s better that I don’t even think. Maybe it’s better that I just act.
“Seriously? Someone like you?” he asks me, and his words are pregnant with surprise.
“Someone like me?”
“Nicole…Fuck. You’re beautiful. And not just that; you’re smart and talented. How is that even
possible?” he continues, reaching for me and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.
“I guess…I’ve always been busy with work,” I reply, looking down at my feet as I feel my cheeks
growing red. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation. Especially with a guy like Palmer.
“Not tonight,” he whispers, and before I can do anything, he sweeps me off my feet. Carrying me in
his arms, he walks out of the kitchen and into my bedroom, nudging the door open with the tip of his shoe.
He doesn’t even bother with flicking the light switch; he just carries me all the way to the bed,
gently sitting me there.
He pushes me down on the mattress, his hands darting to my back and lodging themselves there. In a
sudden movement, he is on top of me, our bodies pressed against each other as we kiss.
Oh, God, is this really happening?
His lips go from my mouth to my chest then, and as he sucks and licks my nipple, I can’t help but
wonder if this is what paradise feels like.
He squeezes my breasts hard as he sucks on them. One of his hands goes down my belly and, still
over the fabric of my dress, presses it over my eager pussy, rubbing it slowly with just the tip of his
fingers.
I grind against his hand, swaying my hips and trying to sate the aching desire my insides feel for
him.
Damn, I can feel every nerve ending in my body yearning for him.
His hand goes down my waist and he slides it under my dress, his fingers hiking up to my thong;
with a flick of his fingers, he pushes the small string of fabric to the side and brushes one finger slowly
against my clit.
I shudder and exhale sharply as he presses down on it. It’s like being hit by lightning.
I can’t see, I can’t speak, I can’t hear—all that I feel is his fingers slowly stroking my pussy.
I thrust my hips upward against his hand; I can’t handle all this teasing, I really can’t. I’m going to
die of anticipation.
Then, as if he’s capable of hearing my thoughts, he pushes my hips down onto the mattress, the palm
of his hand pressing hard against my pussy. He lets one finger go inside of me in an upward motion and,
before I can even let out a heartfelt moan, he has his thumb over my clit again.
He lets go without a warning—the absence of his touch almost too painful to endure.
Getting up, he grabs my hand and makes me stand; with a sudden movement, he has me pinned
against the wall of my own bedroom, my back against the wall.
I close my eyes as he runs his hands through my hair and pushes it back from my face. We stand
there in a silence only broken by the sound of our breathing, our bodies brushing against each other as we
just savor that sweet closeness.
When I open my eyes, I see him looking at me, his lips slightly parted as if he’s lost in a daze.
My hands go to his chest, my fingertips feeling the rough outline of his muscles with deliberate
care. He’s so perfectly sculpted that it’s hard to believe he wasn’t artwork done out of a marble block.
He reaches for my mouth with his, kissing me in abandonment. My heart flutters as I kiss him back,
my lips submitting to one of the absolute best moments of my life. I could stay here forever, lost in this
sweet trance.
His hands go down the side of my body and I tremble in anticipation, feeling his fingers stop at my
waist and then make their way under my dress and up to between my thighs.
Once again, I quiver as he presses down on my clit, the gentle warmness of his fingers making my
body feel light and relaxed.
Softly, he parts my outer lips with a slow flick of his fingers, and I gasp as he slides one inch of his
finger inside me. Slowly, he feeds his finger into me, each inch drawing a trembling moan out of my lips.
“Oh, my…” I start, but he doesn’t let me finish. The words die in my throat as he slides one more
finger deep inside me in a hooking motion, going straight for a secret spot I didn’t even know existed
inside me.
It’s like he knows my body better than I do, as absurd as that sounds. He presses there, making my
whole body burn; my muscles tense up as he rubs his finger deep inside me, and I arch my back as
something snaps in me and ecstasy floods my mind.
I never thought I’d be a screamer, but I guess that’s exactly what I am; as he fingers me hard to the
point of oblivion, and I come, there’s little else I can do but scream as loud as possible.
Yup, I’m definitely a screamer.
Once I’ve calmed down a bit, I reach for his cock, grasping it tightly in my trembling fingers, and I
immediately know what I want to do.
I make him switch places with me. and then I fall to my knees, his cock dangerously close to my
lips as I stroke him. He leans back against the wall, his hands resting on the top of my head, and I relish
the feeling of absolute control.
He’s mine.
He’s mine for me to do whatever I want to do.
I part my lips and let my tongue out, flicking it against his tip; it’s warm and big, and I have to resist
the urge to simply have him inside my mouth at once.
But no, I have to take my time. I want to drive him completely mad and show him that I can tease
and torture just as well as he can.
 Somehow, I can’t help but feel the importance of proving myself to him. It seems that I take as much
pleasure from seeing him climax as I do from orgasming myself.
His pleasure is my pleasure.
I part my lips and brush them softly against him, the salty flavor hitting me at once. I want to have
him inside my mouth so bad it’s unreal… God, my heart is tight in anticipation.
Still, I fight back against my eagerness, and I lick all his length, my tongue going down his shaft and
then back up again, circling around his tip.
I lay my lips there once more, gently sucking on his head, and I can’t take it anymore; I open my
mouth wide and let him slide in over my tongue.
In a second, my mouth is filled with him, his thickness almost too much for me. I have to force my
jaw open so that all of him fits, and I can barely do anything with him inside my mouth besides slowly
bobbing my head back and forth.
And that’s exactly what I do, a shiver going down my spine as I feel that delicious member of his
being engulfed by my lips.
My hands grab at his firm ass, pulling him in and forcing his cock inside my mouth and down my
throat. I lap with my tongue at his shaft, sucking eagerly and relishing every single second as I stroke him
hard, my wrist flicking up and down in a flowing motion.
His fingers tighten on my head, grasping at locks of my hair, but he doesn’t pressure me in any way
—he lets me go at my own pace.
I start going faster then, my hand stroking him at the same time that I suck him. I try to go deep, but
his long inches make it almost impossible for me. I try all the same, my mind ordering me to leave nothing
on the table.
As I start to go faster, his hands start guiding me at the same time that he thrusts into my mouth ever
so slightly. I look up at him and he grins at me, a flash of pleasure brightening his face. I can only imagine
how it must be for him to see me there, on my knees, his huge cock inside my mouth.
I’m ready to go all the way, to not stop until he comes, but he has other plans. I almost feel sad as
he pushes my head back and makes his cock pop out of my mouth; grabbing at my wrists, he makes me get
up.
In a heartbeat, he has me pinned against the wall once again, holding both my arms above my head
as he kisses down my neck and heads straight to my nipples. I moan as he sucks on them, my whole body
buzzing.
Letting go of my arms, he lets his hands fall to my waist and he slowly goes down to his knees. Is
he going to do what I’m thinking?
Oh, fuck, yes… Yes, he is.
He takes one of his hands and puts it under my leg, just below my ass, and makes me raise my leg.
Holding me like that, he lifts my dress up to my waist and pushes my thong to the side.
 He leans into me and has his tongue trace the contour of my inner lips with maddening patience, just
stopping for one moment to flick it at my clit.
He goes on like that until I can’t bear it any longer. I thrust my hips against his mouth and, instead of
fighting it, he lets himself go all out.
He wraps his lips around my pussy, sucking hard on my outer lips as he rubs his thumb around my
clit. I throw my head back against the wall and moan hard, feeling my whole body shiver as my mind goes
numb with ecstasy.
Where has he been all of my life? I definitely wouldn’t still be a virgin if I had met him before.
I grab his hair with such strength I’m amazed he doesn’t say a thing. But he doesn't’ complain; he
simply redoubles his efforts as he devours me.
I press my pussy against him wildly as I hold his head in place, not believing what I’m doing. This
isn’t like me, to be overtaken by desire in such a way... But then again, I’ve never met someone quite like
Palmer, someone that knows exactly what he’s doing.
I would be counting my blessings right now if it weren’t for the fact that my mind has simply
decided to shut itself off.
Wrapping his lips around my clit, he sucks eagerly as he holds me back against the wall with his
forearm over my waist. As he sucks, he lets one finger slide inside me.
He starts fingering me slowly, each coming and going motion of his making me purr anxiously. I can
feel my body already starting to sweat.
In an instant, there’s one more finger inside of me and, before I can prepare for it, he slides a third
one. I don’t know how that’s even possible!
He strokes me slowly, his movements gentle and patient, keeping a rhythm that makes that slow
mounting pressure spread all over my body and coat every single one of my senses.
My hands start grabbing at random locks of his hair in abandonment as electricity bites at me,
clawing under my skin at my taut muscles. I grit my teeth and close my eyes, the universe exploding inside
my head.
My arms shake and tremble, flaying wildly; if he wasn’t holding me against the wall, I’m sure I
would simply collapse onto the floor.
As it is, I remain in place, delight coursing through me with such intensity I can’t even remember
my own name or where I am.
Once I come crashing back down to earth, he takes his fingers out of me, and I quiver as he does it.
Placing my hands under his chin, I make for him to get up; standing tall, he grabs my head with smooth
gentleness and kisses me softly.
I can feel my own scent still dancing in his lips, and it simply drives me completely crazy.
“Tired?” he asks me, that grin of his telling me there’s more to come. I don’t even have the strength
to speak, so I just shake my head and lie.
 Of course I’m tired, but right now, I won’t admit it. Oh, no, I’ll fight through tiredness as long as his
body is close to me; I’ll push myself to the brink of exhaustion and then I’ll just keep pushing further.
Without even letting me catch my breath, he makes me raise my leg once more and, before I know it,
he pushes my thong to the side and has his tip brushing over my inner lips. I expect for him to enter me
with one simple and quick thrust, but he simply holds his position there.
I feel his cock pulsing in aching desire, and I have to admire the ability he has to take his time to
drive me mad.
I break free of his grasp to push his pants down his legs and my trembling fingers start unbuttoning
his shirt frantically. I need to feel every single inch of him inside me, feel every bit of his body pressed
against mine.
With my arms over his shoulders, I thrust my hips at him, begging him with my body to have at me.
But he resists, matching my thrust with a backwards motion, and simply continuing to brush his tip against
me once more, up and down, up and down.
I can’t take it, I really can’t. I need to feel him inside of me, and I need it now.
“Are you sure?” he asks me suddenly, and I can see it in his eyes: if I’m not totally sure of what I’m
doing, he’ll back off, as hard as it might be.
But all I do is nod in desperate agreement. The fact that he asked me makes me want this even
more. I’ve never felt like this before; my muscles are tense, and my insides seem to be burning.
And to have him so close to me and yet doing nothing…
The outer limits of my mind are stretching and I can feel something in me about snap.
“Yes, I want you…” I moan, still trying and thrusting my hips at him.
“I love it when you say it like that,” I hear him saying, but I can barely understand what the words
mean. My mind is exploding, and all rationality his slipping away from me.
“Please…” I beg. “Please…”
He gives me half an inch of his cock, and I feel my whole body trembling frenetically.
“More…”
One inch in and my pussy is tight like a vice around his cock. I push my body forward, but he
resists my advances, feeding his cock into me so slowly even time seems to be distorting around me.
When I think he’s about to let it go all in, he pulls back, starting the process all over again.
“No…” I cry out, my fingernails clawing at his back.
“You’re in charge here,” he whispers, caressing the back of my neck with the tip of fingers.
He thrusts into me with such force that fireworks go off behind my eyelids.
I’m gritting my teeth now, a fire running through my limbs. He starts to thrust hard, his hips slapping
against mine in a furious rhythm of flesh-on-flesh.
He keeps going for God knows how long, his body tirelessly punishing mine. I don’t even know
how the hell I’m still holding my position against the wall, such is the fury he is unleashing on me.
 I tighten my pussy around his cock with violent harshness, and that only makes him go harder, his
coming and going motion destroying my mind.
One hard and final thrust and his cock lodges itself deep inside me, his tip pressed tight against my
g-spot.
Just like that, I explode.
Again.
One more hard and deep thrust and I come in an instant, a maddening scream escaping my mouth
and filling the entire cabin. I feel my inner walls spasming around his cock, but instead of stopping, he
keeps thrusting at me, unrelenting.
Still with my whole body buzzing, my limbs completely out of control, I raise my leg just a bit
more, allowing him to go deeper inside me.
Am I moaning or am I screaming? I don’t even know, and, to be honest, I don’t care.
He keeps moving in and out of me as the orgasm still bites and claws at my mind, and I love him for
it.
I don’t want him to stop. Each thrust of his dilutes the whole world around me, and I feel myself
being pulled into the depths of a world of pleasure I didn’t even know existed.
I lean into him, still with my eyes closed but looking for his mouth. He locks his lips on mine, our
kiss growing wild and completely savage.
Pulling back, he takes his lips to my neck and then whispers.
“We’re just getting started.”
I nod, my head spinning with the promise of more.
He pulls me into him and, before I know it, he has me in his embrace.
We kiss in abandonment as we stumble through the bedroom, completely drunk with lust. With a
growl, he throws me on top of the bed and I fall there, my trembling body pushing against the sheets. With
my back to him, I breathe out deeply as my body appreciates the fact that it can lay down at last.
I feel exhausted, completely spent… And still, I want more. Much more.
He climbs on top of me, his fingers like hooks on my waist, and I jut my ass at him. I prop myself
up on my elbows, feeling exposed in that position and loving it even more precisely because of it.
I grab at the sheets as he smacks my ass with the back of his hands, and I wiggle my backside at him
in tense anticipation. With a quick motion of his hands, he grabs my thong and pulls it down my legs. My
whole body shakes as I feel the fabric of it brushing down my skin.
How did this happen to me? It wasn’t supposed to happen. But I am becoming completely crazy for
him, each second his body isn’t on mine painfully tortuous.
Parting my pussy lips with two fingers, he rams his cock deep inside me and my arms lose all their
strength at once: I collapse onto the bed, only my backside still raised up at him.
He thrusts into me hard and unforgiving, handing sweet punishment in the most lovable way
possible. He reaches for my hair, grabbing and gathering it in a bunch and making me raise my head.
I’m moaning… I’m moaning so hard it’s unbelievable. I do it until I feel my throat becomes sore,
and then I do it some more.
I start rocking my hips back at him, the pendulum motion of his cock going faster and faster.
I’m so spent even my soul feels numb.
And yet he never stops. He reaches around my waist, finding my clit and rubbing on it as he keeps
pounding into me mercilessly.
I try to scream in delight, but even my throat is completely exhausted. I simply lay there as he brings
me once more to the edge of delirious rapture and throws me down into the abyss.
Hooking his fingers onto my hips, he pulls back and makes me turn around. I lay back on the bed,
opening my legs so that he fits right between them. A shiver goes up my spine as I lay eyes on the perfectly
sculpted muscles of his chest.
Leaning into me with his whole body, I feel the tip of his cock brush against my pussy.
Soft and careful, he holds his position there until I can’t take it anymore. I thrust my hips toward
him, my pussy lips parting and engulfing his tip. I bite my lower lip as I feel him enter me.
Now there's nothing but ecstasy for me. As I feel him slide in and out, his thickness straining and
pushing against my inner walls, I’m taken to a place so perfect and dream-like that I’m not even sure if
whatever is happening is real.
It’s way too perfect to be real.
I notice him looking at me, eager to know if I’m alright. I respond in the best way I can, with a deep
moan that climbs up my throat and cascades down my lips with the ferocity of a wild animal.
How could it be any other way? His cock inside of me feels like completion, a pleasure so intense,
it verges on the mystical.
He goes in and out softly then, my legs wrapped around his back and pulling him inside me. My
eyes are closed, my mind only capable of processing the gentle thrusts of his cock as if there were nothing
else in the world . And, as far as I’m concerned, there isn’t.
His body rocks against mine, the most delicious ebb and flow I’ve ever felt in my life, taking over
until I can’t resist it anymore. The muscles in my legs make me tighten them around his back like a vice
and, with both hands grabbing at his hair, I sway my hips from side to side uncontrollably as mind-
numbing electricity takes my body by assault.
He keeps thrusting, rubbing my clit with suddenly erratic movements, I feel him ready; I summon
what little strength still lives inside of me, and I tighten my hold on him. He stops then, his muscles so
tense he seems made out of marble.
When his cock spasms harshly inside my pussy, I can’t help but submit to that wildfire inside of me
and scream. Pleasure crashes against my soul as I feel his cum gushing in a torrent once more, an
earthquake of climaxing delight attacking both our bodies.
 I can’t hold any longer so I just collapse completely on the bed; he falls with me, his cock still
buried deep in my pussy. I moan, feeling his thickness still spasming as he lays on top of me, cum dripping
down my thighs.
We stay like that for…I don’t even know how long. One minute, one hour? We stay like that until
our exhausted bodies become capable of moving again, time having transformed itself to an abstract
concept.
He rolls to the side then, his hand resting on my lower back as he caresses the dimples there. I turn
to him, struggling to open my eyes. He’s looking at me, a gentle smile on his lips.
“That was…” I try to say, but I can’t find the word to describe it. I don’t think any dictionary or
language in the whole world has a word that fits the description of everything I just felt. It’s just
impossible.
That was more than just sex.
“Yes, it was,” he merely agrees, and pulls me into him.
I lay my head against his chest and finally let exhaustion take over me.
In just a few seconds, I’m fast asleep.
 Palmer


My eyes open, and I look around the small, dark bedroom.
Nothing is familiar.
Not the tight space, not the glow-in-the-dark clock the shape of a moon on the nightstand, not the
carpet, not even the floral-print comforters...that I also happen to be butt ass naked under, I think, as I
peer down at my body.
And then it hits me. It really sinks in.
I remember that I'm not home.
I remember the food…that secret recipe, and the sex…
Nicole.
What the fuck am I doing here? I drag my fingers through my hair, pulling it back from my temples.
I rub my eyes, as if to make sure this isn't all just a dream, and then press my fingers against my forehead.
This isn't like me at all, to be sleeping with some girl in a shitty apartment, in a shitty part of town.
I'm slipping. I've gotta get a hold of myself.
I have a goal, and I can't afford to get derailed now.
I need to get out of here. There's no telling where my clothes are, or my wallet, or my keys, or my
phone…but I don't want to wake Nicole up, so I'm going to have to feel my way through the dark.
This place isn't that big. My stuff has to be close by.
I carefully slip my feet out of the comforter, and swing my legs off the bed. I stand up, my body
stark naked, the darkness my only cover. I don't see my clothes, so I shuffle my feet against the carpet,
hoping to walk into them.
There's nothing. They’re not here.
So I get down on all fours, and picture what I must look like if someone where able to see me:
Ridiculous. I feel like a kid going behind his parents' back and sneaking out of the house or something…
but I guess that's partially true.
I'm trying to sneak out of this apartment.
I look over at the bed, to make sure Nicole is still sleeping. Luckily, she is.
I continue to feel along the carpet, and then I finally find my suit pants and boxers.
Thank God, I think. I slip them on. The room is so quiet that the sound of the fabric seems
irrationally louder than I know it is, and I cringe as I pull them on and zip them up.
Fuck. I still need my keys, my phone, my wallet, my shirt, my shoes… okay, think, think, think, I
tell myself.
When did I last see my things?
Last night was such a blur, I honestly can't remember.
 There was food. There was wine. And then things escalated from there.
There was sex. Great fucking sex that I can't think about right now. I've gotta get—
My thoughts are cut short when I see two amber eyes peering at me from the darkness.
I walk over and see that it's Nicole's cat Whiskers, and that underneath the cat are my coat, shirt,
wallet, and keys.
I walk over, and try to shoo the cat off my things, but it doesn't budge.
Move, cat, scram. I need these things more than you do.
“Meeeooww,” the cat voices back its disdain before jumping away. Even in the darkness, I can see
cat hair all over my coat and shirt, and I try, with as much quiet as I can muster, to brush off as much as I
can.
But of course it's no use. I'll need to get these dry-cleaned.
I slip my shirt and coat on, and then, as soon as I turn around to look for my shoes, they find me.
I trip and stumble into the bedside table, almost knocking over the moon-shaped clock. It teeters on
its edges before finally settling back into place.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Seriously? Fuck my life right now.
Thankfully, Nicole still hasn't moved. At least I can still get out of here without her knowing. This'll
be less a walk of shame, and more an act of Houdini.
I slip my feet into my shoes, hopping on one foot, and then the other. The cat eyes me from the
corner of the room, as if mocking me with its orange orbs.
“Stop that,” I whisper. But Whiskers refuses to look away.
If it could laugh me right out of this room, I'm sure it would.
I shove my hands in my pockets and look for my phone. Shit. It's not there.
I pad my suit pockets—the two exterior and two interior pockets—but there's still no phone.
Then I see it out of the corner of my eye—a sliver of light bouncing off the glass of the phone's
screen. It's on the chair next to the bed. I grab it and slip it into the pocket of my suit pants.
Finally. I have everything I need to make an exit and leave this place.
I take a few steps, heading toward the door, but I have a sudden urge to turn around and look back
at Nicole, to look at her one last time before leaving.
When I do, I see the silhouette a perfect woman lying there. The bed sheets are pulled just below
her breasts, and they're exposed to anyone lucky enough to look. It takes everything in me not to slide back
into that bed and take her soft, warm body into my hands.
To run my tongue across her nipples and pinch them between my teeth.
I shake my head in disbelief. I've been with plenty of women in my life, but Nicole is different.
When she's near, the rest of the world melts away. The maddening rush of the world seems to stop.
It's almost unreal how one woman can be so hot and so fucking perfect…and make me experience
such mind-blowing sex.
“It's a shame,” I whisper, shaking my head again. I can't have any distractions in my life right now.
The clock is ticking.
And I have a restaurant to run.
 Nicole


He's making enough noise to wake a bear. No one could sleep through that. How stupid does he
think I am?
I can feel the bed shift as he slides out from the comforter. I hear him shuffling around the room
looking for his clothes.
He's literally on his hands and knees fumbling his way through my dark bedroom. I stifle a laugh. I
mean, he nearly knocks over my nightstand. How clumsy can one man be?
And even my cat seems to be annoyed with him.
For a moment, I think about saying something. Letting him know that I'm awake. Maybe even
flipping the light on so he can find his things.
But if he's the kind of man who thinks it's okay to slip off after getting me in bed with him without
so much as saying a good bye, or a thank you for a good night, then as far as I'm concerned, he doesn't
deserve to leave here easy.
Besides, it doesn't matter. Not really.
Even if I did say something, I'm sure he'd rattle off some fake nicety, and give me some bullshit
excuse as to why he has to leave here in a big hurry. He would probably say something along the lines of,
It isn't you, it's me.
I'll let him think he's slipping out of here undetected, if that's what he wants. So I lie there,
pretending to be asleep.
Which feels like both the dumbest and smartest choice I've ever made… all at the same time.
Then I hear him say something under his breath.
"It's a shame,” he whispers.
My mind reels. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Is it a shame he's leaving? Is he considering getting back into this bed?
Or is he ashamed for coming here in the first place and being with me?
As I listen to him leave, and hear the front door click open and then shut behind him, the silence of
his absence weighs heavy on me.
There's no more wondering. He's gone, and he didn't bother sticking around.
The silence is definitive.
Why the hell did I sleep with an asshole like Palmer? I'm mentally kicking myself for being so
weak.
Although if I'm being honest, there really is something about him that's magnetic. I'm drawn to him
like ice cream is to cake, or like a strawberry is to chocolate.
When he's around, it's like the most natural thing in the world, and even though there's a small voice
in the back of my mind that throws warnings and alarm bells, my body moves toward him without
hesitation. I even cooked him my grandmother's secret recipe!
I slap my hand down on the mattress in frustration, bunching the bed sheets beneath me. It's clear
that he's an asshole…but he's a hot asshole, and I've just had the best sex of my life.
Well, the first and only one, too, but I’m sure that sex isn’t always that…amazing.
That chiseled body. Those eyes. That smile. And those hands.
I feel my pulse flutter just thinking about him, and I grow wet.
He was a god in bed, he really was. I can feel my pussy begin to tingle as I think about how
amazing sex was with Palmer—the way he moved with purpose, without hesitation, and how confident
and calculated he was and how he just knew what he wanted—and what I wanted, too, for that matter.
Slowly, as is possessed, I part my legs under the bed sheets. I grab my breasts in my hands, and
pinch my nipples between my fingers.
This immediately sends my body into overdrive, and I close my eyes and part my mouth, letting out
an involuntary sigh.
I picture Palmer touching my breasts, not me. I imagine it's his strong hands grabbing my nipples,
and kneading the soft flesh as if it were something prized.
I slowly move my hands down lower and lower, across my abdomen, and hover just above my
pelvic bone before making the plunge even deeper.
I can’t believe I'm doing this. One minute I'm thinking about how much I regret sleeping with an
asshole like Palmer, and then next I'm fantasizing about him.
Screw it, I think to myself as I spread my legs further. A little fantasizing never hurt anyone.
My mind focuses on Palmer's body.
Biting down on my lower lip, I slide my hand down between my thighs, pressing the tip of my
fingers against my pussy. I stifle a moan, and then decide to go all the way; I slide my hand further and
then press down on my clit.
Pleasure electrifies my nerve endings all at once, and my eyes roll back as I imagine Palmer back
here in my bed, that mysterious smile dancing on his lips. I’d cook him a hundred more secret recipes just
for him to be really here again.
I’d just reach for his cock, feeling it harden against my eager fingers…
Oh, God, I can’t stop myself now. I slide my fingers in my wet pussy and, parting my inner lips,
slide my middle finger inside. I curl it upward like a hook, driving it all the way in and only stopping
when I find my G-spot.
I press hard against it while I use my thumb to stroke my clit. I close my eyes as my brain starts to
hum with an electricity all its own.
I imagine the chiseled chest that Palmer hides under his tailored suits and fancy chef coats, and how
I'd like to explore the ridges of his abs with my tongue… and with my tongue on his abs, how I'd explore
further down between his legs.
I can already imagine his enormous cock sliding in and out of me, taking my pussy…
“Oh, God,” I moan, my quivering voice echoing throughout the darkness of my apartment as I start
moving my hand faster.
I slide one more finger inside my pussy and start flicking my wrist fast, my fingers moving in and
out of me at a furious pace. I pretend they’re his cock, stretching me wide and driving me insane with a
newfound hunger.
I arch my back, moaning loud enough for my cat to dart off—Whiskers must think I've lost my mind,
but I don't care. This is too good.
I take my free hand to my breasts, squeezing them eagerly. Images of Palmer's naked body flash
behind my eyes. I shut them tight, and a burning need to feel his body on mine consumes me.
In this moment, it's the only thing that matters.
“Oh, fuck,” I groan, my inner walls tightening around my fingers, and without warning, I begin
moaning through grit teeth as a sudden spasm takes over my body. Every muscle fiber inside me begins to
twitch erratically, and I have no choice but to ride the wave over.
When everything subsides and I'm able to open my eyes, I take a deep breath and look up at the
ceiling.
Finally, my mind has cleared, and I decide: Having Palmer in my bed tonight was fun, but it was
also a mistake.
He's a much better fantasy than he is a reality.
 Palmer


I've messed up more dishes in a single afternoon than I have in my entire professional career—too
much salt, too little salt, too much flame, not enough flame.
As much as I hate to admit it, I can't get Nicole out of my mind. Everywhere I turn, I'm reminded of
her.
I'll never be able to look at another pasta dish without remembering that night at her apartment.
And just when I think the day can't get any worse, it does. Oh, it gets so much worse.
I'm standing in front of a hot skillet, searing a fresh tuna steak and getting ready to squeeze just the
right amount of lemon on it when Brit bursts through the kitchen doors.
"Have you seen this?" she says. Her eyes tell me she's wild with frustration.
I look down and see her cellphone in her hand. The browser is open on her screen, and it appears
to be a published article.
"Doesn't look familiar," I say, shaking my head.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but read this."
By the look on her face, I know it can't be good. I grab her phone and begin scrolling.
"Among the dishes offered by Chef Palmer's Pearl is a dry fish akin to prison food,” I read out
loud. “I was too timid to try some items on the menu for fear of developing digestive problems, and that's
putting it mildly. The risotto was inedible—having taken on the consistency and flavor of what I can only
describe as wallpaper paste."
I roll my eyes.
"Oh, it gets better," Brit says. "Keep going."
I continue reading it aloud.
"I wouldn't wish for a natural disaster to strike anyone's restaurant, but if it did, then no one would
have to eat the food offered by The Pearl on Park, and that wouldn't be such a bad thing.
“There literally isn't a single redeeming dish on the menu, unless you count the glass of ice water
that accompanied my food. Chef Palmer's dishes are where hopes and dreams go to die. Hot mush, gummy
waste, and lukewarm puddles are all apt descriptions for the food I tasted, which is a travesty.
“Even my salad looked as if someone squeezed an entire bottle of cheap dressing on it just to watch
every piece of lettuce drown in its own misery. The steak was so overcooked that it resembled the grey
innards of an unidentifiable animal."
My voice is now beginning to shake and I tighten into a ball.
"That's going too fucking far—I know I make the best fucking steaks!"
"This is bullshit," Brit says. "These are all lies. It's as if he's purposely trying to ruin you."
I look back down and continue reading the review. If I've read this far, I might as well finish.
 "Chef Palmer's restaurant is a bungled and lack-luster attempt at bringing another fine dining
destination to New York City. Even the foods that might deserve mild praise, like the grilled asparagus
spears, were under-seasoned and could be procured for cheaper if you simply went to a nearby deli.
“As far as the potato soup goes…well, let me just say that it was as thin, murky, and unappetizing
as dirty dishwater. As a kid, I was once dared to eat a worm freshly dug up from the school playground. I
recoiled, and got so far as to place its wriggling body on my tongue before spitting it out.
“In retrospect, I'd gladly eat that worm before placing another ounce of Chef Palmer's food in my
mouth. In summary: Eat at The Pearl on Park at your own risk."
I knew Percy Whitman was an asshole, but I didn't realize he could sink this low. This is possibly
the worst review I've ever read. What the hell does Percy have against me?
"Can we survive this review?" Brit asks. She's visibly worried, and I don't blame her.
But if there's one good thing about me, it’s that I'm not a quitter. I have the resolve of a stubborn
bull.
"Of course we can," I say. "We're going to keep making high-quality food, and win customers over
one meal at a time."
"Uh—Chef—" she says, tapping me on the arm.
"Leave the worrying to me. I have everything under—"
"No, uh, I mean, the tuna," she says, pointing to the pan. "I think it's on fire."
"Ahhhh, fuck," I say, removing the skillet from the heat. The tuna is ruined. I was so caught up in
reading Percy's review that I completely forgot about the dish that I was working on.
"Shit, this was supposed to be for table 7," I say, as a thin line of sweat zigzags down my temple. I
can't believe how many meals I've fucked up today.
First, it was Nicole, and now it's Percy. I just can't focus. Even though we're busy, the best thing I
could do right now is probably remove myself from this kitchen.
I need to do something about all of this.
I need to get my head on straight.
If I don't, I'll be helping everything Percy said come true, and I can't afford for that to happen.
"Brit, I need you to do me a favor," I say.
"Anything, Chef."
"I need to hand over all kitchen operations to you today."
"To me? Are you sure? It's so busy, and—"
I cut her off. "Look at me. There's no one I trust more."
With that, I unbutton my Chef coat, toss it to the side, and grab my car keys.
There's only one thing that can help me right now.
I need to find Nicole.
 Nicole


I remove the mop from the bucket and press it against the tiled floor. Leaning on the handle, I push
the fibers of the mop back and forth, and watch as their grey strands leave foamy streaks of soap in
scattered patterns.
Sometimes I like to imagine that I'm a painter wielding a giant mop brush—painting the place in
wild streaks.
I'm a firm believer that a restaurant's safety and success hinges on how organized and clean a place
is. And judging by the amount of soap I'm using, this floor is going to be clean enough to eat off of.
Not that I'd suggest that, but I’m just saying…
As I push the mop, I perform a mental checklist—disinfect prep surfaces, wipe down the splash
walls, clean the grill, pour a drain cleaner in the floor drain, run the hood filters through the dishwasher
—check, check, check.
I'm making good progress, and even though it's late, I kind of like how quiet and solitary this place
is after hours—when the guests are gone and everyone else is back at home. It's when I do my best
thinking.
The quiet, the monotonous movements of cleaning… I can just let my mind wander.
Unfortunately, my mind keeps wandering back to the same thing: Palmer.
It's a tortuous loop.
His charisma. The way he can effortlessly keep a conversation. The way he can make me laugh.
The way his eyes pierce me and reel me in. And of course what he can do in bed…
I shake my head. No. Not again.
I can't be thinking about him. It was one night, and it was a mistake.
A big mistake.
But I'd be lying if I said he wasn't constantly on my mind.
I let out a sigh and push the mop back into the bucket, rinsing it of soap and the day's grime.
I decide that the only way I'm going to stop my brain from overthinking is to listen to some music. I
grab my cell phone and press my music-streaming app.
Let's see… I think I need to channel my grandmother right now. She always knew how to cheer my
up and keep me motivated, and she's truly the reason why I'm in the restaurant business.
I scroll through my music options and stop on Doris Day, my grandmother's favorite singer. I play a
song and immediately start dancing around the kitchen.
It transforms me.
"Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be, the future's not ours to see, que sera, sera."
I spin on my toes and reach my arms out, as if I'm giving the world a giant hug. I'm sure I look
ridiculous right now, but I don't even care.
I'm loving the music. It lifts me. And it feels as if my grandmother is here dancing with me right
now.
"When I grew up and fell in love, I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead, will we have rainbows,
day after day, here's what my sweetheart said, que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be, the future's not
ours to see …"
Why is it that every song turns to love?
If I didn't love this song so much, I'd change it, but whatever, I'm just gonna continue to dance this
out.
I spin and twirl and, yes, I even picture myself doing all of this in the strong, muscular arms of
Palmer.
I know, I know… I just can't help it. I don't know what's wrong with me.
It's probably for the best that I'm never going to see him gain.
Sex with him is too good. Is that even a thing? Sex that was too good?
I probably sound insane. Regardless, I'm going to go on record and say it is. I'm living proof.
The chorus of the song comes back on, and in one final move, I run across the kitchen and do a
small leap in the air—just like the way Baby jumps into the arms of Johnny Castle in the movie Dirty
Dancing… except, it's not like the movie at all, and I don't land in a man's arms—I land in the dirty mop
water.
Well, that's not exactly accurate. I bump against it and the brown water splashes into my shoes.
There goes my mood.
I can feel my pulse kick in agitation.
I reach for a towel and try to soak up as much of the water as possible, but now my feet are damp
and cold, and I don't want to be here anymore.
I want to go home, soak in a bath, and pet Whiskers.
I want to pour myself a glass of wine, wear seat pants with an elastic band, and maybe even pig out
on pizza and binge watch Netflix.
I wipe the sweat from my brow, and then take my ponytail out, letting my hair fall down and
cascade around my shoulders.
I start flipping off all the light switches and reach for my keys when I hear something that makes me
stop. It sounds like a low rumble… and it sounds like it's coming from right outside of my restaurant.
I take a peek out of the front window and see a motorcycle parked at the curb. A man is unstrapping
his helmet.
Who in the hell is parking here at this hour? Doesn't he see the place is closed, and—
But once the helmet comes off, I recognize the man immediately, and my heart beats so fast I feel
dizzy.
 It's a total body reaction and nothing I can do or say will make my heart mellow out now.
The man is Palmer, and he is walking up the steps to my restaurant.
I unlock the door for him.
I go to open my mouth, but not a single word comes out. And before I can try again, he places both
of his hands on my shoulders and pushes me up against the wall. Then, he leans down and his lips crash
against mine.
It's the best kiss of my life.
 Nicole


This is happening.
It’s not a dream, and it isn’t a hallucination
No, this is really happening.
With my mouth pressed against his, our tongues dance around one another in a frenzy, and my hands
go down from his chest to his waist. I pull him into me, eager to have him—to make him have me—but he
stops me, yanking on my hair.
“I had to see you,” he breathes out his attempt at an explanation, his voice brimming with desire.
No; it’s more than desire or lust. It’s a burning need, one that forces him to relinquish all control.
I’ve never felt something quite like this; it’s a desire so strong, so fierce that now I understand how
some women can make the rashest of decisions… I'm just glad it’s Palmer here with me. Somehow I know
that with him it will be alright…
“Why?” I ask him, my voice quivering as I lock my eyes on his.
“Because I had to,” he replies, offering me a thin smile. “I had to.”
Our lips touch again, the sweet flavor of his mouth making my skin prickle. I reach with my tongue
for his and, finding it, dance in slow gentle circles around it.
His hands go to my lower back, his long, thin fingers brushing against my skin. His touch is gentle
and delicate and, behind closed eyes, I can hear how it makes my heart flutter inside my chest.
“I’m glad you came,” I find myself saying, running one hand through his hair, my heart beating so
fast that I can barely think straight.
I don’t really know what’s taking hold of me, but I push him back against one of the walls, and
press my mouth against his. He doesn’t even hesitate, placing both of his hands on my ass and squeezing it
over my dress.
Grabbing him by his collar, I pull him close to me, so close our lips are almost brushing against
each other. I truly don’t know what kind of devil got into me, but I no longer know the meaning behind the
word control.
“I needed this,” he continues, his lips hovering over mine. “I needed to kiss you, to feel you again.”
With that, he closes the distance between our mouths; our kiss becomes savage, his hands pulling
down the shoulder straps of my dress and hungrily looking for my breasts.
He grabs them, but this time gently, his fingers pressing down on my flesh. And then he pushes
down the cup of the bra over my right nipple; leaning in, he lays his lips over it, sucking softly. I can feel
my nipple hardening even more inside his mouth as he laps his tongue against it, tracing slow and
seductive circles.
As he sucks, his hands go to my back and, finding the clasp of my bra, he undoes it, pushing it down
my arms.
I shiver, the cool air in the room caressing my breasts. In an instant, his mouth goes from my right
nipple to my left one, his lips wrapping themselves around it with care, and at the same time, with a kind
of passionate fury.
I grab his hair, holding his head in place as he kisses my nipples one at a time, his long gentle
fingers squeezing at my breasts.

“Wait, wait,” I tell him, placing both my hands on his shoulders and pushing him back.
“What is it? Is something wrong?” He asks me, his blue eyes trying to read the expression on my
face.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I reply with a quick smile, and then I turn on my heels and cross the dining
room. I lock the door, which I had unlocked to let him in, and then close all blinders, sheltering us from
the outside.
As the darkness takes over the restaurant, long shadows caressing both our bodies, I start feeling as
if I’m in a dream. A dream where the edges of reality become blurred and sweet, where the real world
doesn’t have a say on how things go.
Closing the distance between me and him, I take my hands to his belt. Looking into his eyes, I
unbuckle it with slow movements, the metallic jingle of it coming undone sending a shiver up my spine.
I pull his pants hard down his legs, and he takes his shoes off in the process, kicking them off one at
a time.
“My turn,” he whispers, and his hands fly to my waist. He turns me around, his hands going up my
back, and he pulls down the zipper of my dress. I push the dress down with the tip of my fingers, my bare
ass turned to him.
I can feel his eyes devouring the sight of my half-naked body, enjoying the shape of my body and
delighting themselves on how only just a small strip of fabric covers me.
Turning back to him, I put my hands on his chest and start unbuttoning his shirt. My fingers work
faster, as does my heart, and I feel the tension rising in my body as the tan muscles on his chest come into
sight.
I slide one hand down his chest and stomach toward his crotch, and I press it there, feeling him go
hard. Turning my hand around, I curl my fingers around his length.
He takes the hint and does exactly what my body demands of him—he presses the palm of his hand
between my thighs, his fingers caressing the wetness that has taken over me.
“You have no idea how much I needed this,” he whispers into my ear; with a flick of his fingers, he
pushes my thong to the side and feels my naked wetness with his fingers.
I am so wet I am almost expecting the wetness to drip down my legs.
I can't take it anymore.
 “I needed it too,” I repeat, grabbing him tightly, feeling his hardness pulse against my fingers. “I
needed it bad,” I continue, and then I find my knees buckling under my weight.
I go down on my knees, not even thinking about what I’m doing, and hook my fingers on the
waistline of his boxer briefs. I pull them down, slowly, and I feel a knot in my throat as his cock comes
into sight.
I run the tip of my tongue between my lips and then, my eyes never leaving his, I lean into him.
I only look away when my lips are hovering over the tip of his hardness, drops of pre-cum already
glistening there. Using only my tongue, I reach for it and, the moment I finally touch the tip of his cock, his
salty flavor hits me at once. It lands on my tongue and, moving quickly, travels all the way up to my brain,
setting in motion a frenzy of desire and lust.
“I have no idea what you did to me,” I tell him, pulling back from his cock and looking him in the
eyes again, “but I can’t help myself.” With that, I open my mouth as wide as I can and dive onto him.
I feel his shaft pushing down on my tongue and brushing against the inside of my cheeks as it goes
down, but I keep on pushing through. To see him and touch him is one thing… But to have him in my mouth
is a completely different thing.
Oh, and to have him inside me…I don’t even know how to describe how that makes me feel.
Perfection doesn’t quite represent how good it is to feel his body on mine.
I push myself down until my lips touch the skin at the base of his cock, his tip already pressed
against the back of my throat, and I hold my position there.
I keep his whole cock inside of my mouth until I can no longer do it, and only then do I roll my lips
back up his shaft, slowly moving them until they’re wrapped tight around his head.
I go all the way back, and my lips smack as his cock pops out of my mouth. Then, I tilt my head
sideways and, with my lips pressed against the side of his shaft, I brush them down until my mouth is on
his balls. I grab his boxer briefs again and, tugging hard on them, I send them down to his ankles. He kicks
them off fast, and then rests his hands on my head.
“Keep going…” Palmer groans, tangling his fingers on my hair again. I look up at him and, as I do
it, I part my lips and brush the tip of my tongue against one of his balls. I’m of half a mind to suck on him
until he succumbs to pleasure and gushes all of his seed inside of my mouth, but I know that he wants
much more than just coming in my mouth…
And, if I’m being honest, so do I.
I lap with my tongue at his balls and then I move to the next one, repeating my motions. Pulling
back, I open my mouth as wide as I can and, cupping both his balls with one hand, I suck them both inside
of my mouth. They fill me up in such a way that my jaw starts to hurt, and I have no other choice but allow
them to slide out of my mouth one by one.
I go back to the tip of his cock then, my lips and tongue tracing an upward line over his shaft, and I
fit the tip of his cock in my mouth once more.
 The pressure of his fingers on my head intensifies, and I close my eyes, surrendering to the wild
desire fluttering inside of me. I open my mouth as wide as I can and gobble up his shaft once more,
bobbing my head up and down over his cock until the wet sound of my lips on his flesh seems to fill the
whole restaurant.
It’s funny—I’ve never been with anyone before, but now I can’t imagine anything better than this.
Pleasure shoots up from my feet to my knees, to my groins, and then up my spine until it finally nestles in
my brain, blending in with the soft warmness of desire.
Still bobbing my head, I grab his cock with both my hands and start to suck and stroke at a matching
pace, the pendulum motion of mouth and hands an entrancing one.
I could keep going like this forever… You know, I always thought that a blowjob was solely for the
man’s pleasure, but now I see that I was wrong—I’m doing it right now not because he likes it… but
because I do.
I only stop when he holds me by the hair, stopping my pendulum motion, and pushes me back until
his cock pops out of my mouth.
“You’re driving me completely insane…” he tells me, deviousness in his eyes. “You know that,
don’t you…?”
“Maybe,” I tell him, a wild grin taking over my lips, “but why don’t you show me?” With that, I go
up to my feet and grab one of his hands.
I guide him toward one of the tables at the center of the dining room and push him back, forcing him
to lay down; I climb on top of him fast, straddling him.
He grabs me by the waist almost immediately and hooks his fingers on my waist.
“You look delicious,” he tells me, his eyes roaming all over my naked skin, and I can almost see
desire floating in his deep blue eyes.
“That means a lot, coming from a chef,” I whisper back at him, taking both my hands to his crotch
and grabbing his cock again. I want to push his cock deep inside of me, to ride him until I pass out, but
he’s taking his time…
Instead of simply pulling me close, he brushes two fingers down my neck and cleavage, and then he
keeps going until his fingertips meet the place where skin and thong meet. Slowly, he goes over the
barrier, my eyelids drooping as I feel the soft pressure of his fingers on my drenched pussy.
Desire igniting my movements, I start to stroke him at a gentle rhythm, my hand going up and down
his shaft with clockwork precision.
As his fingers leave my pussy and go back up my torso, a shiver runs up my spine and makes my
skin prickle. He takes his hands to my breasts, squeezing them gently.
That gentle warmness of desire grows fiercer under my skin as I feel his touch, my two hard rosy
nipples burning under the palm of his hands.
As if he could read my mind, he leans into me, parting his lips and fitting my right nipple into his
mouth; lapping at it with his tongue while he sucks, he forces a whimper out of my lips, pleasure turning
into sound.
“I like that,” he tells me, pulling back and looking into. “To hear you moan…” He goes to my other
nipple, nibbling at it with the right amount of pressure and making the desire that roams free inside of me
grow hungry and wild.
All rational thoughts lose themselves in the woods of my mind, and I don’t even want to reel them
in—no, let them go and lust will take over, exactly the way it should happen.
“I’ll moan more…I’ll moan as much as you want me to…” I whisper into his ear, and then nibble at
his earlobe, pulling on it with my teeth. “But you’ll have to make me.”
That’s all I have to say; the moment the words leave my mouth, he lets go of my breasts and flattens
the palm of his hand right between my thighs, pressing hard against my drenched pussy.
With a wicked grin, he pushes my thong to the side and, no waiting or teasing to it, he simply pushes
his index finger past my folds. Curling it upward like a hook, he runs it all the way in, only stopping when
his fingertip is tightly pressed against that inner spot inside of me, the one that has me moaning right now.
I throw my head back, and I let the moan that’s climbing up my throat explode in the air. He takes
that as a good omen and slides his finger out and then in again, fingering me until insanity takes over. God,
he’s only using his finger and I can barely think straight…
When the moment comes for him to use his cock, I’m really not sure on what’s going to happen to
me.
Is there such a thing as too much pleasure? Can you die from it? Can it ever be too much?
“I want…” I pant, and he slides his finger all the way in until it meets my G-spot.
“You want…?” He asks me, rubbing his finger against my insides and making me breath so hard
that it’s almost impossible to speak. Screw that, I can barely think of what I want to say, let alone say it.
“I want…” He does it again, pressing harder against my G-spot and cutting me short. Still, I grit my
teeth and power through, ordering my brain to keep working through the avalanche of pleasure that’s
assaulting me.
“I want… I need…you. Right now,” I finally manage to hiss between gritted teeth, the pressure of
his fingers on me forcing me to close my eyes as my muscles tense up and turn as hard as concrete.
“I know,” he whispers, resting his thumb over my clit as he keeps on rubbing my G-spot. “And if
you need me as much as I need you...” He trails off then, his breathing growing heavier by the second.
“I do… I do…” I whimper, my fluids already dripping down my inner thighs. I never needed him
inside me as badly as I do now. If I had to choose between air to breathe and having Palmer inside of me,
my choice would be an easy one.
“Then we’re on the same page,” he tells me firmly, running his thumb in slow circles around my clit
as he moves one more finger inside of my pussy. I know that he’s torturing me, teasing me… but, God, it
feels so good.
 It’s almost hard to believe that only with his fingers, Palmer is pleasuring me better than most men
could ever do with their cocks. He’s a wonder of nature, that’s for sure.
“You’re mine, Nicole… Mine to do as I please. Say it.”
“I’m yours… Yours for… you to do as you please,” I repeat after him, the words just coming
unfiltered out of my mouth.
“Good girl,” he whispers, and starts to up the rhythm of his fingers. I throw my head back and start
to sway my hips, moving them at a matching pace, and it doesn’t take long for Palmer to drive me to the
edge of pleasure.
Feeling me close to the breaking point, he drives two fingers as deep as possible inside of me,
pressing hard, and rubs my clit with quick vicious movements. Just like that, I come undone, my weak
moan turning into a high-pitched scream of pure ecstasy.
“Oh… my… God…” I breathe out, the muscles in my throat straining to get the words out, electric
sparks running up and down my body and making my muscles spasm.
I can almost feel my skin boiling, my mind turning into ash as the flames of pleasure simply devour
and consume everything in their way…
Oh, I’m more than desperate for him. I can’t even describe what I’m feeling right now.
This isn’t desperation; this is a pure unbridled need. I must have him, and I must have him right
now.
I won’t be denied.
The moment he takes his fingers out of my pussy, I thrust against him, pressing my pussy against his
shaft. He doesn’t resist; instead, he grabs me by the ass and pulls me into him.
With my eyes still closed, fireworks going off behind my shut eyelids, I start to rock my hips,
grinding against him as if tomorrow will never come. Although my thong is still covering my pussy, I
don’t even bother to stop for a few seconds just to take it off; no, each second is precious, and I won’t let
them go to waste. Not a chance in the world.
“I want you…inside of me,” I plead, my voice quivering as I keep on swaying my hips.
“Beg,” is his only response, a tone of devilishness to his voice.
“Please… Please… I need it so much,” I start, taking one hand to my pussy and flicking my thong to
the side. I raise my hips and, with my other hand, grab his cock and angle it toward me. His hands go
straight to my waist and he stops me right before I drive his length inside of me.
“Please…” I whimper, struggling against the hold he has on me as if I’m fighting for my life.
Without saying a word, he stops holding me, but still grabbing me by the waist, pulls me down with
one vicious movement. I let myself go, a scream bubbling up to my lips as I feel his cock pushing its way
past my soaked folds and straining against my inner walls as it sheathes itself inside of my pussy.
“It’s all yours,” he teases me, taking one hand up to my hair and yanking on it. I grin at him, placing
both hands on his chest, my trembling fingers clawing at his chest. I do it hurriedly, swaying my hips at a
crescendo.
I run my hands up his stomach, feeling his abdominal wall under my fingertips, enjoying every line
of it, before going up to his firm pectoral.
“Like what you see?” He asks me, a mocking grin on his face.
“What’s not to like…?” I manage to respond, trying to isolate my brain from how good it feels to
have his thickness stretching me wide. “Every single inch of your body…it’s perfect.”
“I can say the same,” he shoots back, hooking his fingers on the side of my thong and pulling it
against my outer thigh. His grin widens, and, in a flash, he tugs on it viciously and tears the fabric, ruining
my thong but pulling it off of me.
He throws my ruined underwear to the side and, now fully focused on me, he grabs me by the hips
and pushes me down, forcing me to stop moving. He’s taking control, and there’s nothing I can do about
that. Not that I want to…
I just want to submit to him, nothing more, nothing less.
“This feels so good,” I tell him as he starts rocking his hips against mine. Then, he slides his cock
until it’s almost out of me and looks me in the eyes.
With one thrust, he is deep inside of me.
I don't moan, no, I scream—I scream in pure ecstasy as his cock fills me in a way I have never
experienced. I grit my teeth as his thickness stretches me wide, all my body trembling with pleasure, my
arms shaky and almost unable to hold me still.
His cock goes deep inside me, stroking the same spot his fingers had before. I’m not sure if I’m
moaning or screaming all I know is that I am making so much noise that the muscles in my throat are
already growing sore.
His pendulum motion is completely obliterating me, my pussy spasming around his thickness as he
goes in and out. Can you die of too much pleasure? I'm about find out.
I feel nothing, absolutely nothing but the constant ramming of his cock. It goes in and out at a manic
steady pace, throbbing and pushing back my inner walls. When he’s in deep, I’m sure there isn’t a fraction
of an inch inside my pussy that isn’t filled by his massive member. He only has to make it twitch inside of
me to draw a violent moan out of my lips.
He keeps going for I don't know how long, each stroke of his cock slowly lowering me down into a
world where time is irrelevant.
“I never thought,” he says between thrusts, “that a woman could make me feel like this.”
“I…I know,” I breathe out, placing one hand on the side of his face and locking my eyes on his.
Leaning in, I press my forehead against his and simply surrender to the motion of his body, his length
ravaging me fast.
“Oh, God, oh, God,” I start to moan, my eyes rolling in their sockets as I feel my insides clench in
anticipation. My bones feel as if they’re rattling, and every single cell in my body has reached its boiling
point.
“OH GOD!” I shout, my voice echoing throughout the empty restaurant as a violent orgasm takes
over the wetness between my thighs and shoots up my spine.
I feel my pussy becoming tighter around his cock, and he slows down. Then, when he finally stops,
I push myself off the table and simply collapse on the floor. I sit on the floor, my back against the wall as I
try to catch my breath.
“You okay?” I hear him ask, his words kind and soft.
“I’ve never been more okay in my whole life,” I tell him, my reply nothing but a whisper. “But I
want more,” I continue, and when I open my eyes he’s already kneeling in front of me, that damned smile
on his lips.
“More?”
“More,” I repeat, and then I don’t think — just act.
Moving like a wild cat, I place my hands on his chest, and I force him to lay down on the floor. I
jump on top of him and crush my lips against his.
Grabbing his cock by the root, I point it up, straight to where my body demands it to be. I ease
myself down, my whole body shuddering as his tip slowly parts my folds and struggles against my inner
walls. I lower myself slowly, and with every inch that I go down on draws a purred moan out of me.
I sway my hips over him, slowly at first, but then I pick up the pace. Both my hands are on his chest,
my breasts bouncing over his face as I move. He lifts his head, taking one nipple inside his mouth and
sucking on it as I arch my back in rapture.
My hips sway back and forth as he grabs my ass, his hands accompanying the motion of my body,
squeezing at my cheeks and rubbing against my flushed skin.
I ride him hard, almost too violently, hell-bent on pleasing him as much as he has pleased me. My
ass slaps his thighs as I go up and down, his cock sliding easily inside my pussy, the flowing motion of
our bodies almost hypnotizing.
In a minute, every single muscle in me starts to tense up, electricity buzzing under my skin. I let
myself go, surrendering to that sweet avalanche of pleasure as I keep bucking my hips against him.
I push through, rocking my body against him until I feel him ready.
He closes his eyes, and, just like me, his whole body tenses up, his muscles becoming taut and
hard. His whole body is about to burst…and because of me.
Knowing he won´t hold on much longer, I take my hand down between my legs and start rubbing on
my clit as I rock my body against his, beads of sweat already making their way down my forehead.
As he comes, so do I. I lean into him, my forehead against his chest as I grit my teeth and feel that
sweet orgasm crawl under my skin once more, reaching for every single corner of my mind.
I’ve never felt anything like this; it's like a dream, surreal sensations crawling under my skin. I feel
as if I'm floating, my pussy twitching around his cock in a way I didn’t know was possible.
 Still inside me, he places one hand behind my neck and pulls me in, holding me in a tight embrace.
We stay like that for a long time; when he pulls out, I simply roll to the side and stare at the ceiling, still
breathing hard and dizzy from all of it. Palmer is by my side, and I reach for his hand with mine, curling
my fingers over his.
The Old Tale has always been my safe place. It’s just a small hole in the wall, but it’s a place
where I can escape the frenzied rhythm of a city that’s always bustling with energy.
But…it’s different now. How do I even say it?
With only shadows covering our bodies, our fingers laced…
The Old Tale feels like home now.
 Palmer


I pour an amber ribbon of bourbon into a small tumbler. As soon as the liquid coats the ice, I listen
to it crack, hiss, and clink against the glass.
It's only my second glass… okay, maybe my third, but it feels so good.
I lean back into the leather of my couch and let out a sigh.
The floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse give me an unparalleled view of the city. The darker
the sky becomes, the more the city glitters, like tiny shards of glass.
There's something beautifully impressive about a city skyline—the way skyscrapers reach toward
the clouds and know no ceiling. Skyscrapers reaching up like fists of progress.
It makes me want to conquer the world.
I have a moment of peace and quiet—a brief clearing of the mental fog that left me restless the
whole week and a moment where I once again feel motivated about the future.
It was a long day at work, but the team did well. Dishes were made. Diners were happy, and
nothing was burnt.
And yet.
I'm enjoying the quiet, but it seems that whenever I feel I've reached any sort of mental clarity, it's
short-lived.
Percy's new review of my recent dishes came out today—a high-gloss, highly anticipated article in
one of the biggest culinary journals of the city—and as expected, he doesn't fail to trash me with the gusto
of a man starved. It's as if he won't stop until he sees me destroyed.
But there are other critics. He isn't the only one, and if I get enough good reviews to outweigh his
trash talking, I think The Pearl on Park will make it.
I look at the review again (seeing it for the fifth time) and read Percy's opening sentences out loud:
"An inexperienced child could come up with a more sophisticated and better executed culinary
concept than Chef Palmer. In fact, I've tasted free sauce packets that taste better than the condiments
prepared by Palmer and his team.
“The Pearl on Park—instead of being a culinary spark for the city—is an unpleasant and placid
reminder of high-end cuisine gone wrong."
I slap the article back down on the coffee table and kick up my feet.
Another scathing review, but this time it doesn't bother me. Sure, it's unjust, unfounded and
unwarranted, but I see straight through Percy's bullshit.
Besides, I have bigger, more important things on my mind: Nicole.
I pick up a small business card sitting on the coffee table, and I flip it over in my fingers.
There's an embossed orange flame on one side, edged with gold foil, and on the other is my name,
and phone number, along with a quote: "Play with Fire."
Three words that I repeat like a mantra.
To me, they symbolize action, motivation, perseverance, and triumph.
Regardless of what's thrown at me right now, my mind is relentlessly fixated on my restaurant…
and Nicole.
I wish circumstances with her would be different. We come from two different worlds, and
sometimes it’s as if we speak a different language. I can't read her all the time.
How could she and I ever work out? We have two competing restaurants, and there's also the fact
that I need to stay focused. I don't have time for anything else in my life.
I feel time slipping through my fingers like water. The harder I grab at it, the quicker it disappears.
That's an unsettling thought.
But maybe I shouldn't view this as a race or a competition, and maybe I'm just still unable to accept
it for anything else.
Something inside of me feels missing—could that missing something be Nicole? Could she be the
remedy?
No, she couldn’t possibly be… could she? Not with what's been thrown at me recently. But still, I
wonder…
What's she doing right now? Is she looking at the same skyline? What is she thinking? Is she feeling
what I'm feeling?
I just can't seem to shake her from my mind, and it pisses me off. I'm irritated by the fact that with
all these big fish I have to fry, she's what's causing me the most internal conflict.
It isn't her fault—it's mine. I need to get my fucking life together before I worry about other people
like this, but that'll have to wait for now.
It's useless… nothing can get her out of my mind.
I take another sip of my drink, tilting my head back as the bourbon burns a fiery path into the pit of
my stomach.
Fire.
Action.
That's it, I decide. I need to do something.
I can't sit here and let thoughts of Nicole consume me.
I walk over to the kitchen and grab my cell from the granite counter top. I scroll through my contacts
until I find her name.
I hesitate for just a moment, a split second of time, asking myself if I'm making the right decision. I
pace the kitchen, shuffling my feet across the marble floor, fingering the screen of my phone. My fingers
hover over my contacts, frozen, waiting for me to act.
Fuck it. You only live once, I think to myself.
 And with that I dial Nicole.
It only takes two rings for her to answer. And the voice that answers is the softest, sweetest music
to my ears.
Fuck. There's no more guessing.
There’s no doubt about it. I've made the right decision.
 Nicole


My phone vibrates under my pillow.
I'm dozing off, but it instantly shakes me awake. It's a light, familiar buzz that always leaves me
shuffling my hands through my pillows and sheets, scrambling to answer it before the caller is sent to
voice mail.
What if it's someone from the restaurant? Or family? Or...?
I know you shouldn't sleep with your cell phone next to your head, let alone in your bed, but I can't
help it. I panic if I don't have it nearby.
"Hello?" I answer.
"I need you."
It takes me a few seconds to realize who it is.
"What time is it?" I ask, looking over at the clock on my nightstand.
"The night's still young—come over," Palmer says.
His voice is smooth and deep, like coffee and cream, and despite the fact that I'm tired, I find
myself saying yes.
"Good," he says. "I'll text you my address. See you soon."
And just like that, the phone line goes dead.
I toss my phone onto my nightstand and wonder what in the hell I'm doing.
I don't understand why I'm leaving. It's the middle of the night, and I'm perfectly comfortable
between my sheets. I started my night with a hot bath, and freshly shaved legs.
And let me tell you… I don't think there's any feeling better than freshly shaved legs against clean,
cool sheets. It's heaven.
But here I am, agreeing to get out of bed and drive over to Palmer's place.
I swing my feet out of bed and grab my clothes. I don't have the energy to put on anything more than
jeans and a t-shirt, so I quickly dress, throw a thin coat of red lipstick, light mascara, and then drag a
brush through my hair before pulling it up into a messy bun on top of my head.
Tomorrow I have a long drive ahead of me—hours. I promised to meet my family for lunch, which
is going to be exhausting, dodging my mother’s questions about why I'm not married yet and when I'm
going to give her grandkids, and my dad asking me when I'm going to put this restaurant stuff behind me.
He doesn't take it seriously because he doesn't understand food. And he certainly doesn't see this
restaurant as something I should pursue for the rest of my life.
I love my family, but sometimes they're a bit… much. Or, rather, they’re not enough. Not when it
comes to supporting my dreams.
Which is why I should be sleeping.
 But I can't… not after hearing his voice.
Why can't I just forget about him? When the Pearl on Park first opened its doors next to The Old
Tale, I never would've imagined that I'd be feeling this way about Chef Palmer.
He's the competition. I mean, what am I thinking?
I take one last look at my face in the mirror. I've never considered myself an especially beautiful
woman—I'm more likely to be considered "cute" than "pretty"—but here I am, being pursued by one of the
most eligible—and, yes, I'll admit hottest—bachelors of the culinary world.
But could I really see myself dating a guy who might ruin my business?
I stop myself just short of answering that question. I justify it by saying that at least Palmer is the
best sex I've ever had.
I'm talking mind-blowingly good. Sex like that is hard to walk away from.
I look at the clock and am reminded that it's only getting later and later, and so I grab my purse and
keys, and leave the apartment.
Once in the car, I type in Palmer's address and wait for the GPS to route me.
I look down at the map. Swanky neighborhood, I say to myself. But what did I expect? Palmer is a
culinary rock star.
As soon as my phone says, "You've arrived at your destination," I look up and see just how
breathtaking his apartment is.
A valet parks my car, and a doorman ushers me inside.
"I'm looking for Chef Palmer," I say.
"Is he expecting you?"
"Yes, he is."
"One minute," he says, making a quick phone call, and I can only assume that Palmer tells him to let
me through because immediately he says, "Right this way, ma'am."
I walk to the elevator, and as soon as I step in and see the door close behind me, my heart starts to
thump in my chest. It's beating to a whole new drum, as if it has a mind of its own.
My heart and mind are racing in equal measures. Why am I so nervous? This isn't the first time I've
met with Palmer… but it is the first time I'm meeting him at his apartment, in his space… not mine.
And for some reason, it makes everything feel so different.
It's new, and it makes me feel vulnerable.
I watch the elevator climb to the top penthouse suite, and as soon as the door dings open, I take one
last deep breath and step out.
Everything about this building screams luxury. It couldn't be more different from my own apartment.
Finally, at the end of the hall, I see two massive doors. It's the entryway to his apartment.
I straighten my hair and knock.
It seems like an eternity before Palmer answers, but in reality, I know it must've only been a few
seconds. Regardless, as soon as the door opens, my heart catches in my throat.
He's wearing an easy smile and smells like summer on the Atlantic, and I want nothing more than to
feel his body against mine.
He doesn't give me a chance to say a word. Instead, he scoops me into his strong arms, lifting me
nearly off my feet, and in this moment, there's nowhere else I'd rather be.
 Nicole


The moment his lips touch mine, I become his.
There’s no other way of saying it. Whatever it is about Palmer, I simply can’t resist him.
I don’t even know why I came here. Is that all it takes—one phone call, and I’m knocking at his
door? I’ve never thought of myself as the easy type, but when it comes to Palmer…well, when it comes to
Palmer, I have no idea what to think.
He was supposed to be this cold figure, a harsh man that cared about nothing but his ambitions. But
that’s not the real Palmer.
At least that’s not the Palmer I’ve come to know.
"I’m glad you came," he whispers and, leaning in, Palmer brushes his lips against mine once more.
As he kisses me, my hands roam over the fabric of his shirt, untucking it and pulling it free from his pants.
My fingertips feel the outline of his abs, and I almost lose it.
Butterflies hit the pit of my stomach, outstretched wings on their maiden flight. Palmer's lips
captivate me with a wanderlust that I have never felt before. My skin is covering with prickles from the
chills rushing up and down my spine.
As stupid as it might sound, I believe these are the kind of feelings women succumb to in romance
novels. As a young girl, I could sit for hours and read how the perfect romantic tryst would begin. I never
really believed in them, but I wished they were right.
And now here I am, living a romance like that. Wait—did I actually say the word romance? Oh,
Palmer’s messing with my mind more than I’ve begun to imagine.
But I didn’t leave my bed tonight to think about the meaning of things.
No, I came here because my body demanded it.
“I had to come,” I tell him, whispering these words against his lips.
Our lips are softly massaging against each other, our tongues locked in a tight embrace. My hands
move up Palmer's chest, and I start unbuttoning his shirt; I keep my eyes locked on his as I do it, my
knuckles softly brushing against his tanned chest on the way down. Then, I take my hands to his shoulders
and push the shirt down. It floats down to the floor softly, landing at his feet.
I can't believe how perfect he is.
I use the tip of my fingers to trace over his flesh like a soft feather, and I can feel him tense slightly,
but not in a bad way.
"Nicole… keep doing that and I won’t be held responsible for my actions," Palmer mumbles
against my lips, our tongues taking turns at tasting each other lips.
I move my hand up to the back of his neck, cradling the back of his head in my palm.
He’s a weakness for me. The truth is I’ve imagined this in my mind, over and over again, never
knowing if we’d be together again.
After the first time it happened, I just tried to push it off my mind. But then he stormed inside The
Old Tale, pulling me against him as if he needed it more than anything in his life. And now… now here I
am.
I want to pinch myself to make sure I'm not daydreaming again. Gripping a little flesh on my hip, I
smile against his lips.
Oh, he’s real, more real than anything else in my life.
Pulling back, Palmer looks at me, chuckling.
"Did you just pinch yourself? This is real, Nicole. And by the end of the night…you will never
forget just how real it is."
I widen my eyes, my lips parting a little in awe. Palmer knows me too well already. I've let my
guard down, and though that isn't bad, it does scares me.
"Shh, kiss me again,” he whispers, his voice gentle and seductive. “I feel like I've become addicted
to those lips already."
I lean up on the tips of my toes, grasping his bottom lip with my teeth.
Pearly white teeth clamped onto his lower lip, I press my body against his and close any space
between us.
I feel my nipples hardening against the cup of my bra, my breasts mashed against his naked chest. I
can feel his heartbeat too. It’s slow and steady, but I can tell that its pace is slowly building up.
And so is mine.
I'm Alice in Wonderland and I’m falling down the rabbit hole farther and farther as the clock ticks
on.
I’ve never felt this way—so consumed with another person that I’m already looking forward to
doing this again. I mean, we haven't even started yet.
Palmer reaches around to the back of my black pencil skirt, pulling the zipper down. I can feel as
the teeth release each other.
"I want you so fucking much, Nicole… you have no idea," he continues, his hungry eyes locked on
mine.
As my skirt falls down my legs, he then takes his long fingers up my legs, closing in on my inner
thighs. I almost feel he’s going to press his hand against my pussy, but he makes a quick detour and rest
both hands on my hips; hooking his fingers on my black silk panties, he pushes them down slowly, the cool
air in the room caressing my nakedness.
“C’mere,” he whispers then, his hands going back to my waist. He grabs the hem of my blouse and
pulls it over my head, my hair cascading over my naked shoulders as he throws the blouse to the side.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he tells me, his fingers going around to my back,
looking for the clasp of my bra. He releases it the moment he finds it, and I feel the cups drooping over my
breasts, my nipples becoming even harder than before.
He removes the bra gently, his eyes widening as my breasts jump into sight.
The only thing I’m wearing right now are goosebumps, and there are a lot of them.
Palmer slides his hands down my back, not stopping till his palms grip my ass. Holding me tight,
lifting, he takes me to the large leather couch that takes over his living room, and lays me back on it.
The only light in the room is coming through the large floor-to-ceiling windows. The moon is full
tonight, and it blends with the dim lights of the night, the towers around Palmer’s apartment like beacons.
Palmer stands at the end of the couch, his eyes staring at my feet and working their way up my long,
tan legs. He’s taking in every inch of me into his memory. He’s etching the perfect masterpiece in his
mind.
I suck in my stomach when his eyes stop right between my thighs. Suddenly, and I don’t even know
why, I feel a little shy. We’ve done this before, but with him…it always feels like the first time.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, biting down softly on a pillow. It's incredible the way he
makes me feel.
I clear my throat, my voice shaking a little.
"Do you like what you see, Palmer?"
Of course, he does. Why am I asking this? I can tell by the outline in his pants that he likes what
he’s seeing.
And if likes it as much as I like what I’m seeing, this is going to be a good night.
"How about I show you how much I like it?" Smirking, Palmer doesn't wait for me to respond. He
moves between my legs, kissing my lower lips.
"Oh, God!" Trembling, my whole body shakes the moment I feel the warmth of his breath on my
pussy lips.
"Open your legs wider. Put them on the floor." Palmer’s voice is authoritative, demanding, but it
doesn’t need to be. I’ll do anything he says at this point.
I can’t—and I won’t—resist him.
I open my legs wide, the wetness of my pussy drawing his gaze. My inner folds are glistening, the
soft pink tint slowly deepening in color. I'm more aroused than I’ve ever been.
Palmer’s between my legs, his tongue swiping up the outer lips like a brush painting a canvas. Long
strokes over the mound, soft ones as he goes further down.
He’s driving me completely insane, and I want more. I want him to wiggle his tongue between my
lips; I want him to satisfy my desires.
"You taste incredible, Nicole,” he whispers, stopping for a moment to get the words out. “I want
you," he continues, pressing the tip of his tongue against my clit, pushing down hard on the tiny button of
happiness.
I can't stop my legs from trembling. It's driving me crazy the way my body craves him. He’s perfect
in every possible way, and I can't get enough of what he’s doing to me.
Palmer parts my lips, and his tongue slides up and down as he lays his forearm over my stomach,
holding me against the couch.
I clench my cheeks, but the way his thumb is rubbing my clit relaxes me.
Pushing the tip of his tongue past my pussy lips, Palmer knows exactly how to make me quiver. I’m
shaking, and thankfully, there is a cushion beneath me to hold me, my fingers gripping the fabric till my
knuckles turn white.
"Palmer, that…that feels so good. Don't stop."
Using his tongue to paint a picture inside my pussy lips, I almost feel breathless from the intensity. I
never even knew that a man could make a woman feel like this using only his lips…
I arch my back from the surface of couch beneath, and my legs tremble.
"What are you doing to me? This is completely insane,” I tell him breathlessly, but I don’t wait for
a reply.
I push my pussy against his mouth, feeling Palmers' tongue slide inside my pink lips, the small
entrance stretching around the tip. The way he’s using his tongue reminds of the way he takes me when
he’s inside of me... there’s a certain eagerness to his movements, a certain recklessness.
Placing his hand on top of my pussy, pulling upwards towards my stomach, Palmer has me unable
to form words. I moan out with approval as he forcefully devours me.
Putting his hands on my thighs next, he spreads my legs open even wider. I stretch as far as my
muscles will allow, exposing myself entirely to him.
"Nicole, you’re just… fucking perfect. I could keep doing this forever,” he tells me, breathing out
each word slowly. His eyes are locked on mine, and I feel my heart thumping hard as I notice the way his
lips are glistening from my wetness.
And then he’s back on my pussy.
"I can't take it anymore,” I cry out, reaching for his head and tangling my fingers in his hair. I pull
him into me once more, forcing him to bury his mouth against my pussy, and I start swaying my hips like a
woman possessed.
“Oh my god! I'm going to…I’m going to come," I moan, clamping my hand over my mouth to muffle
my cries, my body giving in to ecstasy.
Consumed with pleasure, my body trembles to the point my muscles ache from the tension.
Complete rapture overtakes me. Thankfully, it’s just the two of us in here, and I can moan and scream as
much as I want to.
Palmer is drenched in my juices, and when he looks up at me, I can see a trail run down his chin.
I remove my hand from my mouth, shaking, "Oh God, what the hell was that? I've never come like
that. Ever."
Smiling, Palmer leans into me again, licking me till I’m free of all my juices, sliding up my body to
share them with me. Softly, he brushes his lips against mine, the flavor of his kiss so sweet it’s almost
maddening.
I've never done anything like this, but what can I say? When Palmer’s with me, I feel capable of
almost anything.
His touch has changed me.
"It’s my turn," I tell him, still out of breath. I didn’t need to say it, though; he’s ready for me to take
him in my mouth. I can't miss the fact that he has his whole length pressing against my thigh through his
pants.
It must be uncomfortable for him, I think, reaching down to help.
I tug his zipper down, reaching in. I slide my hand inside his boxer briefs, and curl my fingers
around his shaft. The warmness of his cock spreads to the palm of my hands, and then it goes over my arm
and takes over my brain.
Slowly, I start flicking my wrist, stroking him as my heart keeps on racing faster and faster.
"I want you so much," I continue to say, the rhythm of my hand keeping up with that of my heart, my
eyes locking on his.
I take my free hand down his back and push both his pants and his boxer briefs down; I pull his
cock out, and the moment I feel his shaft brush against my naked thigh, my insides feel as if they’re about
to explode.
I blush a little, moving over on the couch for him to lay back. His cock is standing up like a tent
pole, demanding all of my attention.
I lick my lips to moisten them. My eyes never looking away from Palmer's cock from the moment it
was out in the open.
I want to feel him in my mouth. I sit on the end of the couch, leaning down to lick his length from its
root to the tip.
My tongue slithers up to the rim around the top of his cock, licking slowly around the entire head.
His size alone is intimidating, but that won't stop me.
I want it all.
My eyes on his, I never look away. I want him to watch me blow his mind. And the fact that he is
gnawing on his bottom lips tells me that he is enjoying my warm mouth.
"Nicole, Jesus… your mouth is incredible," his voice a growl, one brimming with lust. Oh, I just
love that in him.
I lower my lips down the shaft, taking my time with it. My jaws stretch to take all of him inside of
me, but I simply keep going; I won't stop till I have his entire cock inside my mouth.
Palmer places his hand on the back of my head, pushing me down till there is nothing left to take in.
Holding my head steady, I fight to breathe through my nose. It's such a rush, being dominated like this.
I feel his fingers twist in the strands of my hair, pulling my head back, only to push it all the way
back in. This time, he uses his hips to help him bottom out.
I moan against his cock, but that seems to turn him on even more. He keeps on dictating the
movements of my head, my lips rolling up and down his entire length.
The room’s illuminated by the moon shining through the windows, our bodies casting long shadows
that seem to tumble over his living room, almost as if they were alive.
From my apartment, to The Old Tale, and now his apartment… whenever I’m with him, it seems
that the place we’re in becomes something out of a dream.
I wrap my hand around the base of his cock, stroking him as I keep on bobbing my head.
"You’re killing me,” he breathes out, tugging at my hair as if he wanted to make me stop.
Of course, I won’t be denied.
My eyes are still on his as I open my mouth as wide as I can. The steady stream of pre-cum lets me
know he's getting close, and I can’t wait for it.
I want it.
I want him to feel like he’s bursting with ecstasy, I want to hear his groans of pleasure…and I want
to know that I’m the sole reason for that.
I pull back softly, knowing he is about to come The first shot of his seed hits the back of my throat
fast. The second is a steady stream of warmth across my tongue. I push my head back down, taking all of
it, my eyes closed as I savor him.
I moan softly as my tongue circles the head of his cock, coaxing anything he has left out. Then, as
slowly as I can manage, I take my mouth off his cock. I look up at him, smiling as I notice the dazed grin
on his lips.
“That was fucking amazing,” he breathes out, his chest rising and falling at an erratic pace.
The first thing I notice is that he’s still as hard as he was before. He doesn't soften at all. I slide up
his body, feeling the warm of his skin against mine, and position myself over his cock.
Still grabbing his shaft, I rub his head against my wet pussy lips, arching my back as I feel that
intense need to have him inside of me. He lays his hands on my ass, trying to reel me in, but I resist him
for a moment.
There’s something about the moment before having him inside of me that drives me completely
insane, and I want it to last. I keep on rubbing myself against his cock, making him lose his mind, and then
he simply digs his fingers into my ass cheeks and pulls me down.
With one thrust, he is entirely inside of me.
I lean my head back, soft locks of hair cascading down my back as my pussy walls stretch to
accommodate his size. I’ve never felt anything like this. Not only is he massive in length, but his girth is
also astounding.
I'm in heaven right now.
Palmer moves his hands up my body, hands gripping my naked breasts as his hips force me to open
wider for him. Oh, I love the way I can take him in with ease. The massive tip is pushing into my deepest
point, and moan after moans falls down from my lips.
Lust doesn’t even begin to describe the state I’m in.
I place my hands in the middle of his chest. I lift my hips, only to take his cock back inside of my
gripping walls entirely. I like it when his head entirely pulls out, and I need to ease myself down all over
again.
That pressure against my core forces goosebumps all over my body, a violent shiver going up my
spine.
I keep my body upright, thrusting down as he meets me with each stroke, and I let out a groan as he
starts upping the pace.
"Fuck, Nicole, you're so tight."
He’s right, I’m tight, but I’ve never had a cock like this before. He's huge compared to my tightness.
And I feel it each time he pushes in, making me lose my breath each and every time.
Maybe it’s all in my head, but his cock is addicting.
"Oh my God, harder, Palmer."
My voice cracks with desperation. I love the way he pushes his cock into my pussy walls as his
hand grasp my hips tight. He’s pumping every inch of him deep inside of me. Like a well-oiled machine,
we work in perfect sync with each other.
I slide my hands up his chest, resting my body on his now. With one movement, I find myself
beneath him. He is taking charge now, showing my body that’s in charge, and I like that.
No, I love it.
Our lips mesh together, and we kiss in a fevered pitch. I never want to let go, nor do I want this
night to end.
Pulling my legs up to wrap them around his waist, the feel of his cock hitting my innermost points
brings on a series of overwhelming moans. I can't stop. Each time his cock massages my clit, I get lost in
the brink of a violent orgasm.
Arms and legs entwined, I can't hold back any longer.
I must come.
Crying out in pleasure, my body shakes in full force. There is no turning back now. I feel the rush of
heat so deep inside of my body, waves of lustful pleasure enveloping me.
"Palmer, oh dear god…I’m coming! "
My legs tighten around his body as the waves roll over my entire being, the scorching heat of
ecstasy severing the connection between my body and brain.
He pulls out of my pussy then, his cock soaking wet from my juices. He looks into my eyes for a
moment, and that grin on his lips seems to widen. Then, I realize what’s on his mind: my pussy.
He places his hands under the cheeks of my ass, pulling my hips up to meet his face.
 I’ve just orgasmed, and I’m sensitive to touch, and so his tongue on my clit feels like an electrical
impulse radiating through my body.
"Fuck, oh God!" I cry out, the words slipping from between my lips. I can't control myself at this
point. I've never had anything that could compare to this.
The sounds of his lips against me, the way he licks every crevice of my pussy, pushing his tongue
into my little pink entrance…it all makes me lose it. I can't stop shaking from the way he’s ravaging me.
He keeps licking the whole length of my pussy, his tongue slipping in and out of it, pushing its way
past my folds. It’s funny—we’ve only been together a few times, but this feels as though we’ve been
lovers for a lifetime.
"Bend over. I want you from behind," he tells me then, pulling back from my pussy. Palmers' voice
has that authoritative tone again, and I just do as he tells me to, laying back down on the couch. Looking
up with a smile, I turn, pushing my body up with my knees.
I wiggle my hips back and forth, teasing him as I feel his eyes wandering over my curves. Even
though the cool air in his living room makes me shiver, my core temperature must be boiling.
"Want some?" I whisper, warm blood making its way to my cheeks. I can’t believe I’m talking like
this. What happened to the shy Nicole?
Palmer reaches over and slaps my ass lightly, the sound of his hand landing on my flesh making me
close my eyes. He’s loving it, at least as much as I am.
He leans in, taking one last lick up my pussy lips, his tongue flicking fast and hard against my clit.
And what an incredible feeling. So soft and warm, his tongue feels more than amazing.
Sliding up to run his cock over my pussy lips, he holds for a moment, teasing me. Just like I did to
him.
Then, he presses the head against my pussy, pushing through the lips and into my tight walls.
"That feels so good, Nicole," he groans, his cock pulsing hard against my inner walls
His cock all the way inside me now, he holds still inside my walls, not wanting to pull back. Not
yet. He’s taking his time, and I’m loving every single second of it.
Palmer uses a single finger to move up my back, tracing the curve of my spine on the way up. It
isn’t till he reaches the end of my hair that he stops; he grabs a fist full of hair, increasing the pace inside
of my tight walls. Smirking, he pulls all the way out, slamming back into my pussy walls.
"Fuck, you have no idea how good this feels," he whispers, talking as he fucks into me deeper. With
his free hand over the curve of my ass, I bite my lower lip as I feel his thumb grazing over it
"Oh my God!"
I can't control it.
Palmer’s doing everything that I want, everything that I need. It’s as if he knows exactly what’s
going inside my head, my mind like an open book to him.
I whimper, pushing back on his cock to let him know what he’s doing is okay.
 "Fuck," he groans, slamming his cock so hard into me that I have to grab at the armrest of the couch,
trying to stop myself from tumbling forward. The sound of his thighs slapping my ass echo throughout the
living room like a lustful symphony, and I surrender to the moment.
I start to shake as he goes harder. I grip the surface below, my fingers knotting into the soft fabric as
he pulls out, only so that he can slam his cock inside me again.
"You’re so fucking tight…" He tells me again, his hands running up the side of my body to cup my
breasts.
Of course I'm tight. Anyone would be tight to a cock like this.
I bite down on my bottom lip, and he reignites his movements. I whimper a little as he rocks his
hips against mine, that pleasant warmness taking over my soul again.
Sex with Palmer… it's a rush that I was never prepared for, but now I can't get enough of it.
"Fuck!" Palmer growls out as he starts to fuck me with a new-found fury. He isn't gentle now. He
wants to ravage me, and with every thrust in, his balls smack against my skin.
The sound echoes through the living room again, adding to that symphony only the two of us can
hear.
The couch starts jolting from the movement of our bodies, its sound blending in with the sound of
both our bodies, but that doesn’t make us slow down.
God, how can someone make me feel like this? It’s surreal.
I push back each time he drives in, our bodies becoming one with each other.
Acting on instinct, I slide my hand down my flat stomach, not stopping till I've reached my pussy. Its
lips are still soaking wet. Pressing the tips of my fingers against my clit, I start rubbing around in circles,
my eyes rolling in their orbits as he keeps fucking my pussy.
I look back over my shoulder, watching as the muscles in his arms tighten each time he pushes his
cock deeper into me. His abdomen is rock hard, and a little trickle of sweat moves down his brow.
This man is the perfect lover.
I start working my clit harder now, biting on my lower lip as I do it. I feel my pussy walls
tightening around Palmer’s cock, and I know that I won’t last long.
"Harder, I need it harder,” I cry out, my fingers moving so fast over my clit that it almost feels as if
it’s on fire.
"Please, I want it all. I need you so bad," I continue, my voice cracking from the pleasure building
inside of me.
I’m close to coming—again—and I can’t wait for it. I have three fingers pressing down on my clit,
working it in a way I never even knew I was capable of—all that so that I can reach that perfect climax.
My thighs are soaked as my juices drip down my legs.
God, I can't get enough of him.
I never will.
 Holding onto my ass cheeks, he pulls out entirely; then, he smacks the shaft against my pussy before
pushing the head back in, bottoming out. Each time he does it, I’m one step closer to coming.
I’m about to come when he pulls out from inside of me. God, he’s driving me completely crazy.
Rubbing the head over my pussy, he doesn't push in. Not yet.
He’s taking me to the next level, the one where I’ll need to beg him.
I’m trying to avoid giving him that much power over me, but what can I do?
"Tell me you want it," he says, his voice whimsical. Filled with a devious laughter that I can't
handle. Should I tell him yes? Scream out for him to fuck me as hard as he can?
"I want it, Palmer. I want you…I want you to fuck me. Hard."
There, I said it.
And now I want him to use every part of my body as if he owns it.
Smirking at me, Palmer turns me around and forces me to lay down on the couch. Moving between
my legs, he pushes his cock into my pussy with one stroke.
We are both so close to coming that our bodies slam against each other, our lips crushing hard,
tongues dancing as we fuck harder than ever before.
I scream out.
My nails rake down Palmer's back as I come with such force that my mind feels as if its melting
inside my skull.
"OH GOD!" I scream at the top of my lungs, the sound of voice filling his whole apartment.
It becomes too much for him.
One more stroke and he explodes inside me. My pussy tightens up around his cock as we both come
hard, electric ecstasy wrapping itself around us both.
We stay like that for a long time, his body on top of mine as we try to catch our breaths. By the time
he rolls to the side, squeezing himself by my side on the couch, my mind slowly starts to awaken again.
Still silence and the long shadows of his living room tumble over our naked bodies, I let out a deep
sigh and run one hand through his hair.
“You okay?” He asks me, his voice cutting through the silence like a pebble thrown into a pond.
And, just like that, the softness of his voices send slight waves all over my body.
“I’m okay,” I tell him, not knowing what else to say.
“Just okay?” He asks me, and I can almost feel the smile on his lips.
“No, not just okay.”
“Then what?”
I hesitate for a moment, thinking of the rights words. My fingers keep on running through his hair,
caressing him, and then I just smile.
“I feel…happy.”
 Palmer


"Look at this place," Nicole says. "It's amazing."
I can't help but smile, as she walks around my apartment wide-eyed. The innocence with which she
looks at the world is refreshing. She's soaking it all in, taking nothing for granted.
"This," I say, pointing around the apartment, "is just a collection of things. Don't get too excited. We
can't take these things where we're going."
She frowns. "Well, that's kind of a dark thing to think about."
"It's the truth," I shrug. "But… they sure are fun to collect."
"Since when did you become so humble? This isn't the cold, calculated, driven chef I've heard so
much about," she laughs.
"You can't always believe what you read."
As soon as I say that, I can't help but think about Percy Whitman and his reviews of my restaurant.
That's a prime example of something that shouldn't be believed.
"What's this?" she says, pointing to a painting on the wall. "It looks so… chaotic."
"That's a Jackson Pollock painting."
"A real Pollock?" she says, her eyes widening again. "You own a real Pollock painting? I've heard
of him, but have never actually seen one of his paintings in real life."
"You see all of those lines? He created this piece by dripping paint on a canvas that was placed on
the floor. Pretty incredible when you think about it… I don't think anyone else was using that technique at
the time."
"Couldn't anyone do this thought? I mean, it just looks so… messy," Nicole says, stepping closer to
the painting. "I could take a paintbrush and drip a bunch of paint onto the floor."
"It's in the eye of the beholder, I guess, but I think there's something remarkable about Pollock… the
way he rebelled, you know? The way he used color. And he wasn't concerned with painting objects that
he could see in everyday life, like a traditional landscape of the sea, or of a fruit basket, or a vase of
flowers.
“It feels as if he wanted to show action… he wanted to show what was going on in his own
emotional interior with all of these lines."
Nicole considers this. "I can appreciate that. I think you have a point," she says, and then laughs.
"Who knew Chef Palmer was so… cultured."
"What's that supposed to mean? Did you think I was some soulless brute?" I laugh, giving her a hard
time, but she blushes, and I change the subject.
"You hungry?" I ask.
She doesn't answer. Instead, she's walking into the living room, transfixed by the things she sees.
And as I follow her around the penthouse, I realize that I'm so surprised by how genuine I am being with
her.
Normally, when I have a woman over, it's a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am sort of affair. We fuck. We
maybe eat.
And I watch her as she walks out that front door.
But this is different. Nicole is different. She isn't like any of those other women.
"Unreal—you collect pottery too?" she asks, pointing to a vase.
I smile. "That's a Brouwer vase."
"Never heard of it, but I love the colors—the gold and reds and yellows… all kind of swirling
together. The more I look at it, the more I think I can sink right into it."
"This piece comes from Long Island, and I like it because of the way it's crafted, using an open
firing technique."
She shakes her head. "You're gonna have to speak my language. I have no idea what that even
means."
I lean in close, and delicately grab her hand in mine. "Here," I say. "Touch this." I drag the tips of
her fingers across the vase, and she follows my lead, feeling the texture.
"The glaze on this has been whipped by flames," I say. "And that creates some really spectacular
coloring."
"Incredible," she says, at almost a whisper. "You never cease to amaze me. You have incredible
taste."
"They're extremely rare… these vases I mean."
She pulls her hand back. "Then I probably shouldn't be touching it like that."
I laugh. "It's fine. I trust you."
As soon as those words tumble from my mouth, I realize I'm no longer talking about the vase. I'm
talking about me. I'm talking about us.
Nicole is the first woman I've ever opened up to… trusted enough to open up to, and if I'm being
honest, I should probably tell her my whole story.
"What's wrong?" she says, scrunching her eyebrows.
"Nothing," I say, trying to look away. Is now really the right moment to rip open my chest and hand
her my naked, beating, vulnerable heart on a platter?
"I may not have known you that long, but you aren't a very good liar. You're thinking about
something… tell me."
She's right. I take a deep breath.
"There's something symbolic about fire that drives me. It transforms things—food, places—but it
also symbolizes action and immediacy. I'm so driven to make The Pearl on Park a success because I want
to leave my mark on this city.
 “I want to show everyone how good high-end cuisine can be… and I don't think I have much time."
She turns and looks at me, holding my gaze in silence.
Then, she finally says, "What do you mean… not much time?"
"It's probably nothing… but a few weeks ago my doctor saw a white mass on a routine scan… in
my brain. He told me to come back, so that we could figure out what it was."
"And?" she says, a look of concern washing over her.
"And I didn't go back," I shrug. "I feel fine."
"Are you crazy? Doesn't that seem stupid, to not follow up?"
"Maybe," I say, "but we're all mortal. No one is gonna be here forever, so instead of thinking about
that, I'm choosing to live in the present, and focus all of my energy on The Pearl."
There. I said it. I've just served handed this woman the keys to my innermost secrets and desires.
Now let's see if I've scared her off.
 Nicole


I look around Palmer's kitchen, taking stock of the ingredients at hand.
Let's see… he has bacon. That will work; who doesn't love bacon? It goes with everything.
I decide to surprise Palmer by making avocado BLTs for breakfast. The last trip I took to California
caused me to fall in love with avocados. Now, I add them to anything I can.
The bacon has been smoked with apple wood and glazed with maple syrup. As soon as I open the
package, it smells divine.
I heat a skillet, and once hot, I place each strip on the hot stove. The fat immediately sizzles, and the
aroma fills the kitchen. While the bacon is getting crisp, I grab a loaf of country bread and slice thick
pieces off. I decide to toast them, and then slice slabs of purple heirloom tomatoes.
Only the best ingredients on hand, which doesn't surprise me. Palmer's a fellow chef, after all.
Once everything is ready, I layer the bacon, tomato, and lettuce on the crusty bread, and top it with
buttery wedges of avocado. My mouth is watering just looking at these stacks.
"Something smells good," Palmer says, causing me to jump.
He laughs. "Did I scare you?"
"I was so focused on getting these BLTs just right, I didn't even hear you behind me," I say with a
smile. "It's a lot of pressure cooking for one of the world's most famous chefs, you know."
"I see you started early," he says. "Is the sun even out?" I watch as he rubs his eyes.
"Sorry it's so early, but I have to leave soon, and before I leave, I wanted to cook and share
breakfast with you."
He walks over and presses his lips to my forehead. "That's thoughtful. I love it."
"I wouldn't say that just yet. You haven't even tried it," I smile. "You might not say that after you've
tasted it."
He laughs. "I'm sure it's just fine."
I watch as he brings the sandwich to his mouth and takes a big bite. He chews thoughtfully. "You
know what I think?" he says.
I shake my head.
"I think this is a keeper."
As soon as he says it, I smile. There's something about Palmer enjoying my cooking that always
makes my mood soar and puts a permanent smile on my lips.
I take a bite. It's a thick sandwich, so I struggle wrapping my mouth around it.
But he's right. It's good. Real good. And it hits the spot.
"Wait … you have something," Palmer says, stepping toward me. "Right… here."
He reaches up and places a finger on the corner of my mouth, wiping off a stray piece of avocado.
I'm usually embarrassed when someone points out a piece of food on my face, but right now, the only thing
I can think about is his touch, and the way it makes me feel electrified.
I smile, and I think about the way he opened up to me. He's so much more than the hotheaded,
womanizing, soulless, chef that the tabloids make him out to be.
He has depth. He's cultured, and likes art, and is so full of information that it makes my head spin.
He's like a walking Wikipedia, and I never find myself getting bored in his presence. The truth is, I could
listen to him talk forever.
And what was up with what he told me? Is he sick? What did he mean by a "white mass" was
found?
As soon as he said it, he wanted to change the subject. It was clear he was trying to get something
off his chest, but he didn't want to go any deeper.
Maybe it's nothing. Besides, it's really none of my business.
But I can't help but wish he'd go back to his doctor for a second opinion.
"Someone's a messy eater," Palmer laughs, bringing my thoughts back to the present.
"Look at this thing," I say, pinching the sandwich between both of my hands. "It's thicker than a
mattress."
We both get a good laugh at that, and as we're joking around, something catches my eyes. Behind
Palmer, on the counter, is a magazine. It's opened to an article written by Percy Whitman.
I can see that he reviewed The Pearl on Park, and it's not good. In fact, the review is downright
scathing.
I read one of the headlines: "The Pearl on Park—instead of being a culinary spark for the city—is
an unpleasant and placid reminder of high-end cuisine gone wrong."
It feels as if someone has dropped a bowling ball down my throat and its lodged itself into the pit
of my stomach.
My heart tightens.
Percy is my friend. Did you write this review because of me?
Am I to blame for this?
Maybe I shouldn't have been so hard on Palmer, and maybe I never should've vented any of my
thoughts to Percy. I just feel like this is somehow my fault.
"Everything OK?" Palmer asks.
I smile. There's no way I want Palmer to know what I'm thinking.
"Oh yeah, it's fine," I say, and then lie, pushing these thoughts out of my mind. "I was just thinking
how I really should be going. I have a long drive ahead of me."
"Not yet—finish breakfast at least," he says with a smile.
It's a smile that's disarming. It's a smile that makes me yes when I should say no.
He senses my hesitation and he continues to prod me.
 "You like this bacon, right?"
"Who doesn't?" I say.
"Want a strip?"
"Very funny," I smile, placing my hand on his. "I see what you did there."
God there's nothing I wouldn't give to play a game of striptease in this kitchen, with this man, but
my family will kill me if I don't show up today.
"I'd love to," I say, "But I have to leave. Rain check?"
"If you have to leave, at least me drive you."
"No, that's not necessary."
"I insist," he says.
"Seriously, it's far, and a pain in the ass—"
"Fuck no—forget all of that," he smiles, dismissing every excuse I'm throwing his way. "I'm driving
you."
 Palmer


I must be going insane. First, my restaurant is under attack by some asshole critic, and now, here I
am, volunteering to drive some girl to her parent's place.
Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with me?
I should be going to the Pearl. I should be rallying my staff, and countering Percy's review with a
PR blitz of my own. But am I doing any of that? No.
What's going on? Am I falling for Nicole?
No… it can't be. I don't just fall for women. And I have a plan for my life, and this scenario isn't a
part of that plan. Not even close.
Falling for Nicole is impossible.
But as we're driving, and the music is blaring, and my fingers are tapping the steering wheel, and
Nicole's hair is dancing in the wind that's blowing across my open convertible, she looks so happy… and
I feel so happy…
And I can't help but wonder.
Isn’t it true that sometimes life is unpredictable, and no matter how well you plan it out, sometimes
plans change?
I shake my head. I can't get ahead of myself.
I'm the kind of guy that writes everything down and plans it out. And I'm even talking writing lists
for the lists I already wrote.
Do you see what I mean? Everything is organized. This isn't on any of those lists.
So right now I just need to recognize that I'm simply spending time with Nicole. We're having fun.
It's nothing more than that.
"There it is," Nicole says, pointing to a small house on the side of the road.
I haven't been outside of the city in ages—has it been years?—so to be driving through the suburbs
feels weird.
"This is my childhood home," she says. "Nothing fancy, and as much as I couldn't wait to leave it, I
have to admit… I still miss it sometimes."
"It's nice," I say, and even though it looks like every other suburban home I've ever seen—a flower
garden, a tree in the front yard, a driveway, and a white fence—I mean it. It is nice.
It's kind of refreshing to not be walking into another crowded high rise. This is somehow more…
personal.
As soon as I get out of the car and open Nicole's door, a large dog runs out of the house barking. Its
shaggy red coat is getting lifted in the wind.
"It's OK," she says. "He doesn't bite."
 The dog recognizes her and immediately wags its tail. She pats his head, scratches behind his ears,
and gives him a playful pat on the back. He licks her hand in excitement.
"That's a good boy, Rusty—a good boy," she says, leaning down and showering him in playful
kisses.
"You're quite the animal lover," I say.
I've never owned an animal. It's not that I don't like them, it's just that I've admired them from a
distance.
"I love them," she smiles, her eyes still fixed on the dog. "If I didn't go to culinary school, I think I
probably would've become a vet."
"I can see that," I smile.
As she finishes petting Rusty, we walk up to her parent's house and before we reach the door, Rusty
is all over me. First, he's jumping on me with his two front paws, and I'm trying to pet him, hoping that'll
calm him down and he'll get bored with me, but it doesn't seem to work.
"Get down, Rusty," Nicole urges, but the dog only listens for a few minutes before going right back
at it. Then, when no one's looking, I feel him shoving his nose in the crotch of my pants, sniffing for God
knows what. I shoo him away, and luckily he listens this time, taking the hint.
"Baby, is that you?" a woman says, approaching the door.
Nicole embraces her in a hug. "It's good to see you mom."
Immediately, her mother looks over at me. "Oh, and who do we have here?" she smiles.
"This is Palmer," she says, introducing us. "He's my… um, he's my friend."
Her mother eyes me suspiciously, wondering if I'm a friend as her daughter says, or if I'm something
more.
"It's a pleasure," I say, extending my hand.
"Palmer is a chef, mom," Nicole says. "He owns The Pearl on Park."
"Well, isn't that nice," her mom says. "Come in, come in."
We walk in and immediately to our right is the living room. A game of football is playing on the TV,
and people are shouting.
"C'mon—make that catch!" someone yells, and another says, "Did you see that? That was almost a
QB sack!"
"This," Nicole says, pointing to one side of the room, "is my dad, and this over here is my brother."
They both turn to me, and give me a nod and a welcome handshake.
I look back at Nicole. "I should go now," I say. "I'll let you guys enjoy your lunch."
I turn to leave and then feel a hand on my shoulder.
"Oh, no—stay!" her mother says.
"No, no, I don't want to be a bother," I say.
"It's no bother. We have plenty of food," her mother insists.
 "No, he's busy, mom," Nicole says.
"Nonsense, no one is too busy to eat a home cooked meal," her mother says, practically blocking
my exit.
Nicole looks at me with eyes that say I'm so sorry about this, but I just smile.
"OK, why not—I think I can join you for a meal," I say.
"Great!" her mother beams. "Now please, sit down."
There's no escaping now.
 Nicole


I'm kneeling on the floor, petting Rusty and watching him lick my hands, and my knees are digging
into the carpet that is too shaggy to be anything remotely modern—I don't think my parents have replaced
it since the 1970s or something, and I'm stunned. I mean really stunned.
This entire day has not gone as expected.
And above all, I'm nervous.
How's this lunch going to go? Is my mom going to say stupid like, so when are you going to give
me grandkids, Nicole? Or is my dad going to say something equally stupid like, But surely being a chef
isn't a real career, is it son?
And there's no telling what will tumble out of my brother's mouth. I should probably tell you that my
brother's an animal, and he doesn't have a filter. I'm being serious when I say anything can happen, and I'm
not sure I'm ready for that level of embarrassment. Not now. Not with Palmer.
"You have a lovely house," Palmer says to my mother, and she's eating it up. I've never brought a
man home before… and definitely never a man as handsome as Palmer, and I can tell she's just loving it.
Her face is lit up brighter than the sun, and she’s melting into his gaze. She keeps giving him
reassuring pats on the shoulder, which is the kind of thing she only does to people she really likes.
I flash him another look that says I'm so so sorry, because let's be honest, I'm sure he doesn't want
to be here.
How could he, right? He has better things to be doing right now. He has a high-end restaurant to
run.
He'd probably rather have a filling replaced, or get a flat tire on the freeway than be here right now.
And my mom practically held his hand to the flame, and blocked the door, which is so embarrassing
it makes me want to die a little inside.
But Palmer just flashes me a smile and something tells me he really doesn't mind. It's as if he does
want to be here.
"Can I help you with anything?" Palmer asks my mom.
"Why don't you come in here and help me peel these potatoes."
I roll my eyes. Why can't my mom be a normal human being and just let him sit here as our guest.
This is Palmer we're talking about… a world-class chef. The kind of chef that people have to pay
hundreds of dollars just to eat with.
I love my mom. I really do. I love my entire family.
But you don't ask guests like that to peel and wash potatoes, you know?
But again, he's a gracious guest, and I watch him walk over to my mother, wash potatoes, and hold a
sharp paring knife in his hands.
 He peels the skin with ninja-like speed, and my mom's impressed. Really impressed. I can see it in
her eyes.
I hear them make small talk. She's asking him about his restaurant, and where he grew up, and all
the normal mom stuff, and he continues to smile and answer everything he throws at her.
"Kitchens aren't always serious and stressed out places," Palmer says, and I crane my neck to hear
what he's saying. I'm still sitting there, petting the dog, and pretending to not pay attention, but the truth is
I'm trying to listen in harder than I've ever eavesdropped in my life.
He continues, "This one time, a dish guy stretched a heavy duty yellow scrubbing glove over the
entire top of his head—I don't know how he did it, but he did—and it looked just like a cock's comb. He
proceeded to strut around the kitchen like this."
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Palmer tuck his arms into his chest in the shape of chicken
wings and bob his head, back and forth.
I can't help but smile at that, and even my mom is cracking up. I mean, she's laughing so hard that
she's wiping tears from under her eyes.
"I kid you not, the dish guy was flapping his arms around, bobbing and tilting his head, and clucking
like a chicken. It was one of the funniest things I've seen in my whole life."
My mother is barreled over, clutching her sides.
It's so surprising, seeing Palmer like this. He isn't the arrogant asshole chef I knew him to be.
He's funny and warm. And he's charismatic.
And when it's all time for us to sit at the table, even my father seems to love him.
"I'm a huge Buffalo Bills fan—always have been," Palmer says, and my father slaps him on the
back.
"A man of my own heart!" my father says. "Any Bills fan is a friend of mine."
For a minute it almost feels like I'm in some alternate universe. Who are these people, and what
have they done with my parents? Who is this man?
Things are going so well, and everyone is getting along better than I could've ever hoped for.
For some reason it's stunning… having man like Palmer, sitting here and sharing a simple family
lunch with us, in this humble home because of his extreme wealth and fame… and what I thought was
arrogance.
But he isn't arrogant at all. He's captivated my family, and they're a tough crowd to please.
This man… Chef Palmer could eat anywhere in the world. He could eat with any chef, and any
celebrity.
But he's here. In my childhood home. Sharing a simple meal with a simple middle-class family.
And I love him for that.
 Palmer


"Excuse me while I take this call," I say, pushing my chair back from the table.
My cell phone is vibrating in my pocket as I grab it and walk out the front door.
"Palmer speaking," I say, pacing the front porch.
"Finally—there you are. You're a hard man to get a hold of. Look, I'll get straight to the point. I have
some bad news." It's Roger Mills, my business manager.
Any time I get a call from him, I brace myself and expect anything to come out of his mouth because
he always gives it to me straight. But now the words bad news bounce through my brain like ping pong
balls and I don't know what to think.
"Give it to me."
"The bottom line is that investors are feeling shaky about your restaurants, not just The Pearl on
Park," he says.
"Why now?"
"It boils down to all the bad coverage you've received."
I know exactly what coverage he's referring to. Percy Whitman.
"I already know about those reviews—they're bullshit. Unfounded garbage and—"
"Unfounded or not," Roger says, cutting me off, "investors are freaking. Those are some of the
worst reviews a restaurant has ever seen."
"It's all lies, they can't be believed."
"Tell that to the rest of the world," Roger says. "I'm serious. This is bad. Real bad."
"Look," I say, "I'm actually in the middle of lunch and I'm busy, can I—"
"We don't have time," he says. "We need to act now."
"I don't want to talk about this right now. I'll figure it out and I'll call you back soon."
"Palmer, wait, Listen, I think—"
But I don't give him a chance to tell me what he thinks. Instead, I end the call and the connection
goes silent.
It's strange. It seems my entire business is in jeopardy, but being here with Nicole and her family—
I'm happy. I gather my thoughts, take a deep breath and enter the house.
"I was just telling Nicole's father about your chicken story," Nicole's mom says. The entire table is
laughing.
I smile. "There are more funny stories where that came from. I could spend hours telling you
stories."
"Well, we aren't going anywhere," Nicole's father smiles. "Tell us what happens in those kitchens
of yours."
 "Well, in this business, we get every kind of customer you can think of. One day, many years ago,
when I was first starting out, we got a particularly difficult woman. She orders the soup of the day—a
French Onion.
“The waiter brings it to her. She says it's too cold. So, no problem, right?
“This is a typical, routine sort of complaint, if you will. The waiter brings it back into the kitchen,
and we give her a new, piping hot batch."
"Was she satisfied?" Nicole asks.
"Oh no—the story doesn't stop there," I laugh. "So, the waiter brings it to the woman, but now she
says it doesn't taste right and that we must've changed our recipe. The waiter assures her that isn't the
case, but she keeps badgering him and badgering him. He tries to change the soup again, but to no avail.
“The woman is insistent that again, it isn't right. She's really digging into him now, saying things
like How hard is it to make soup, and Isn't this your job. So finally, the waiter reaches a breaking point.
And I kid you not—he grabs that soup bowl and saucer and flings it across the dining room like a Frisbee.
“The entire thing smashes against the wall and everyone is stunned. And what does that waiter do?
He leaves without a word. We never saw him again."
"You have to be kidding!" Nicole shrieks. "Was anyone hurt?"
"No, but we got a good laugh out of it later."
The entire family is laughing now, and as I turn to look at each of their faces, I realize that I'm
having the time of my life. I never expected to enjoy myself as much as I am.
It's as if the worries of the world—my restaurant, my health, Percy Whitman trying to sabotage me
at every turn—fades away.
I like Nicole's family. They're simple people and that's refreshing.
Her family has completely managed to charm me.
"Here, try this," Nicole says, passing me a small, chilled glass.
"This looks interesting."
"It's Limoncello—my grandmother's recipe."
"Then I bet it's good. Your grandma seems to have the best recipes."
I take a sip, and it's better than I imagined. It's the perfect palate cleanser—the citrus infused,
lightly sweetened alcohol couldn't get much better.
Nicole can sense the satisfaction on my face and she smiles.
"Glad you like it," she says, and under the table I can feel her slide her hand up my thigh. "Because
there's more where that came from."
I don't know if it's the hint in her words, or her touch… or maybe both, but my cock twitches and I
shift in my seat. Letting my dick get hard, right here, at a table surrounded by Nicole's family, is not
something I want.
But Nicole seems to understand this, and a devious smile forms on her lips.
 Just as her mother's asking me if I'd like a second helping of food, Nicole drags her fingers up my
thigh, coming within inches of my cock.
I can feel it harden with the proximity of her touch. Within seconds, I'm going to be harder than a
steel rod.
"I'm, I'm fine—I uh, the food was, well, it was great—it really was—but I'm full, thank you," I
stammer stupidly.
God, can I sound anymore ridiculous?
Nicole grins wider.
"I think I'm going to show Palmer the house—give him a tour," Nicole says, and her parents nod.
Then she turns to me.
"I want to show you my childhood bedroom."
My heart kicks in my chest and my cock leaps.
"Show me the way," I smile.
 Nicole


“This is…” he starts, trailing off as he looks around my bedroom. I close the door behind us as we
step inside, eager to have his arms wrapped around me, but I stop as I look at him.
His eyes seem to linger on my childhood pictures; slowly, he then heads toward the full body
mirror I have on the corner.
“That’s my grandmother,” I tell him as he reaches for one of the pictures taped to the mirror.
In the picture, she’s standing in front of a red brick wall, wearing a loose apron over a faded dress.
Her dress is blue, the kind of blue that reminds me of the restlessness of the ocean in the first days of
winter, and only the whiteness of the polka dots splattered all over it break those memories of early
winter.
Her cheeks are flushed, the lines around her mouth carved deep by years of easy smiles and
generous laughs.
“A woman with no wrinkles is a woman without a story to tell,” I whisper, and Parker looks at me.
“That’s what she used to tell me,” I continue. “She’d tell me that all the time. She made me believe in hard
work.”
Those memories are the reason I left home in the first place. They’re the reason I abandoned the
dappled shade of the trees, the comforts of home, and the lazy afternoons when the whole horizon would
stretch to accommodate a warm sunset.
I gave all that away and replaced it with the stern shadows of buildings smudged by the fog, the
quick-fire chatter of city dwellers, and by the rapid pulse you’d only find in a big city.
“I like that,” he whispers, plucking the picture from the frame and staring at it, his thumb grazing
over it. I stand there in complete silence, just taking in the scene. He’s looking at my grandmother’s
picture as if he yearned for something like that, for family, for comfort.
“I’ve never met my grandmother,” he tells me matter-of-factly, and the casual tone in his voice
makes my skin prickle.
I wonder about him. He seems… lonely.
The kind of man that’d push family, friends, and lovers out of his life, only so that he could focus on
his goals. A man whose ambition burns so bright it devours everything around him.
And that doctor’s appointment he told me about… I don’t even know what to think about it. I can't
imagine how that's affecting him. He seems to believe death’s jaws are snapping at his heels, and he
wants to go out with a bang instead of fizzling out.
That thought makes my heart ache. I try to push it away from my mind, but I can’t imagine a world
without Palmer.
It hurts too much to think about it.
 “Come here,” I whisper, reaching for his hand and pulling him into me. I need to feel him close to
me. I need to hold him tight, just to make sure he won’t disappear like a forgotten dream.
I look into his eyes, my heart drumming wildly inside my chest. He smiles then, caressing my face
with the back of his hand. Leaning into me, he brushes his lips against mine. It’s a simple kiss—tender and
kind—but it’s enough for me to lean in and press my forehead against his chest.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I whisper.
I lay one hand on his chest, and I stay like that for a long time, just listening to his pulse. The
warmness of his body seems to spread into mine, and it doesn’t take long for this feeling of comfort to turn
into something more.
“Me, too,” he replies, and that’s all I need.
I can do without the flourishes and the pretty words. I can do without declarations of love and
flowers. I can do without all that.
All I need is Palmer, his lips against my hair as he whispers those words.
I grow wet, and I can already feel my drenched thong sticking to my skin. My heart is racing
furiously inside my rib cage, pumping desire through my veins as if I just received a shot of adrenaline.
The blood that runs through me is charged with lust and sinful thoughts, inflaming that burning need I have
for his body.
I tried to avoid this. I knew how… stupid it would be for me to be near Palmer. He’s my one and
only weakness—handsome, dangerous, and relentless. But here I am now… revealing all my childhood
secrets to a man I was sure I’d hate.
I don’t even know how any of this happened.
The moment The Pearl on Park moved into my neighborhood, I started nursing a special kind of
hatred for a man I saw as cold and calculated. A man who didn’t know the meaning behind the word
heart.
And yet, here we are.
I surrendered to him.
I gave him my body and I gave him my heart.
I take one step forward, my eyes never leaving his, and I grab him by the scruff of his shirt. Pulling
him into me, I press my mouth against his, parting my lips and brushing my tongue against his. I start
unbuttoning his shirt, my eager fingers flying down the fabric as I bare his chest.
With one hand on my waist, he takes the other to my hair, grabbing it viciously. He pulls my head
back and starts kissing down my chin toward my neck; once there, he starts nibbling the soft skin gently. I
close my eyes as I feel his lips against my neck, my rational mind slowly drowning in an ocean of
pleasure.
With jerking movements, I tug on his shirt and make the rest of the buttons pop out. I run my hands
over his chest, feeling his warm skin under my fingertips. It's absolute perfection. Good Lord, I just want
to feel every single inch of his body and surrender myself to him.
And there’s nothing stopping me.
Grabbing the fabric of his shirt, I pull it down his shoulders and throw it to the floor. I pull back
from his kiss and take one hard look at him, my eyes wandering over his chest. I can’t even hear my own
thoughts over the loud drumming of my heart.
My lips curl into a smile as I look back into his eyes, and I let my hands slide down his chest until
they meet the hem of his pants. I unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly, sliding my hand down his pants and
caressing the bulging shape that’s tenting his underwear.
I start stroking him over the fabric, my fingers curled tight around his cock. He’s gigantic, his
member pulsing against my hand in such an intense way that my insides clench in anticipation.
Leaning into him, I lay my lips against his, and then start kissing down his jawline. I trace the
contour of his neck and go down to his chest, feeling his hard and ripped muscles against my lips.
I go down on my knees then, pushing down his pants and boxer briefs as I do it. His cock springs
free in a heartbeat, jumping eagerly into my hand.
My fingers curl around it once more, feeling its warmness against my skin. I start stroking him
slowly, my eyes locked on his as my hand goes back and forth at a low teasing rhythm.
I open my mouth wide, leaning forward and taking his tip inside my mouth. Sucking on it, I let his
flavor—a salty and manly one—inundate me.
My eyelids droop and, before I even know what I’m doing, I’m moving forward, his whole shaft
sliding inside of my mouth. I start to suck, bobbing my head back and forth and twirling my tongue around
his dick. It tastes amazing, the scent of manhood crawling up my mouth and lodging itself on my brain like
a perfect blanket.
Cupping his balls as I suck him, I caress them and roll them over my fingers. Then, as he kicks off
his shoes, I push his pants and underwear all the way down and push them to corner of the small room.
Pulling back for an instant, I stroke him as hard as I can, my eyes widening as I try to comprehend
the huge member right in front of me; it doesn’t matter how many times I see it, I’m always amazed by his
size.
My skin prickles as, slightly leaning forward, he places both his hands on my shoulders and pushes
the straps of my dress down. The fabric droops over my torso, baring my chest, and I immediately take my
hands behind my back.
Blindly, I find my bra’s hook and unclasp it, letting it fall down my arms and onto the floor. There’s
no need for instructions—the moment my naked breasts come into view, he grabs them gently, his fingers
brushing over my hard nipples.
I lean forward so that I can start sucking him again, his shaft rolling over my lips easily. With my
hands on his ass cheeks, I start bobbing my head back and forth as fast as I can. Matching my own rhythm,
he starts thrusting, his fingers running through my hair as he ravages my mouth.
 I close my eyes, half-expecting him to not resist the way I’m sucking him. I wouldn’t complain if he
came in my mouth, not at all.
But, of course, men like Palmer are never satisfied with one simple blowjob. They want more,
always more.
And I love him for it.
He grabs my wrist, making me stop my stroking motion, and gently pushes my head back. I let his
cock slide out of my mouth, and then allow him to pull me up to my feet.
He places his hands on my shoulders and pushes me back against the wall. I go willingly, simply
looking at him as he goes pushes his body against mine, his chest pressed against my breasts.
We kiss again, our tongues dancing around each other as his hands go up and down my side,
exploring the curves of my body as if I was the most wonderful woman on Earth. And the way he touches
and kisses me almost convinces me that I really am that wonderful.
I part my legs slightly so that he can fit between them, his hard throbbing cock pressed tight against
the front of my dress. I hike it up to my waist as his hands go up my leg, his fingers caressing my inner
thigh and dangerously reaching for my thong.
The moment he presses his hand against my pussy, the wet fabric of my thong—the final frontier—a
violent shiver of desire goes up my spine.
I grab his wrist and make him press his hand on me harshly, my pussy becoming even wetter as I
succumb to that sweet pressure.
Taking the lead, he flicks my thong to the side and, kicking patience to the curb, slides one finger
inside of me. I feel a scream climbing up my throat, but I grit my teeth and stop it just in time,
remembering where I am. I didn’t avoid a scandal a few days ago just so that step into another.
He brushes his fingertip against my G-spot, darts of pleasure hitting each and every one of my nerve
endings. My eyes are closed, and I can’t hear a sound; my brain can only process one thing, and that’s the
pleasure he is inflicting on me.
Which is exactly what I want. I need all of my brain power to be solely devoted to pleasure right
now. After all, why would I want to focus on anything else when I have Palmer right here?
When pleasure knocks at your door, you answer it.
I place my hands on his back, sliding them down to his ass and grabbing it hard, his cock pulsing
against my body. As I feel the perfect curves of his ass, he starts to slide his finger in and out of me at a
vicious pace.
My pussy is boiling, an eruption of pleasure threatening to overwhelm me. Actually, it isn’t a threat:
it’s merely a fact. I know it’s coming.
And when it does, I don’t even have time to moan. I simply surrender to the avalanche that
overtakes me and pulls my rational mind down into the depths of a decadent and sinful world.
My fingers turn into claws and I hook them in his ass cheeks as I come; driven by instinct, I bite
down on the tender flesh of his neck, my whole body twitching from the sudden orgasm. He keeps going,
sliding his finger in and out of me, without even allowing me to catch my breath.
Stopping for one second only, he uses it to grab my thong and push it down my legs; he then does
the same with my dress, leaving me naked against the wall. He takes one step back, his hungry eyes
wandering over my body, and I shudder in anticipation.
Leaning in, he starts kissing my neck, his lips tracing a downward line over my body. I feel his
mouth between my breasts, and then his lips wrap themselves tight around one nipple.
Arching my back, I let a low moan tumble out of my lips as his mouth moves down to my stomach,
laying gentle kisses over my navel as it continues its downward trajectory.
Much in the same way I did before, he goes to his knees, his mouth dangerously close to my pussy.
He starts to kiss my inner thighs, teasing me mercilessly as I squirm.
God, I want to feel his mouth on my pussy, his tongue on my clit… I want him to eat me, to devour
me as if I were the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in his whole life.
As if he could read my mind, he immediately presses his mouth against my wetness, his tongue
lapping at my clit eagerly.
I lift one leg up and place it over his shoulder, allowing him to easily fit his head between my
thighs. Opening his mouth wide, he sucks my drenched folds, taking my juice in his mouth as his tongue
starts to jab at me, parting my inner lips and sliding in and out at a maddening pace.
I rest my hands on his, feeling dazed by the way he moves his head. Grabbing locks of stray hair, I
pull him into me violently as I thrust my hips against his face, rubbing my pussy all over his mouth.
Relishing it, he redoubles his efforts, sucking and licking in a way that turns a never-ending
sequence of hushed moans into a long drawn out one. I have to bite my lips and remember where I am,
trying to focus so that I don’t moan louder than I can.
The moment he focuses on my clit, his lips wrapped around it as he presses down with his tongue,
my whole body shakes as I come. I pull his hair as hard as I can, throwing my head back as I grit my teeth,
suppressing a wild scream of savage pleasure.
I’m still shaking when he slides two fingers inside of me, moving them in and out in a matching
rhythm to that of his tongue. He’s not even eating me out; he’s fucking me with his mouth.
I don’t even know how it’s possible, but the first orgasm still hasn’t died and I’m already coming
again, cresting the peak of pleasure’s mountains as my body is consumed by burning intense pleasure.
My limbs are flailing and I’ve lost all control of my body—I’m like a puppet, carnal pleasure
pulling the strings and guiding me towards another dimension… one where only ecstasy matters.
Guided by the desire to achieve that transcendence, I take my hands to his face and make him look
at me, locking my eyes on his.
“Take me. Make me yours,” I tell him, the tone of my voice half-commanding, half-begging. Lucky
for me, I don’t have to command or beg; he’s ready to give me what I want right now.
 He goes to his feet, a devilish grin on his lips.
“You’re already mine, Nicole. You just don’t know it yet,” he says, pressing his body against mine.
I shiver at his words.
He grabs his cock with one hand and presses its thick head against my inner lips; gently swaying his
hips, he rubs his tip against me, my body and mind buzzing with excitement as I bury my fingernails in his
back.
With my fingers acting like hooks, I motion for him to thrust, to pierce me with his cock and fuck me
like I’ve never been fucked before. But he takes his time; he keeps on gently rubbing his cock against me,
never allowing it to go more than a few centimeters inside of me.
Then, the whole world explodes; he thrusts violently, his meaty member sliding inside of me with
one single stroke and scorching all of my nerve endings.
His cock stretches my inner walls as it goes, making me wonder how is it possible to have
something so huge inside of me. I know I don’t have other men to compare him to, but judging by all the
gossip I’ve heard… let’s just say that Palmer must be in a league of his own.
He starts ramming it inside of me harshly, his fingers going down my back and nestling under my
ass cheeks. He pulls me up and into him, lifting me off from the floor, and I lock my legs on his back.
With my arms over his shoulders, I pull him in and make him move even more viciously, each thrust
of his is like a stab of pure pleasure, a mind-numbing high that would put any kind of drug to shame. In
fact, just two thrusts and I’m already an addict.
Rocking his body against mine in a back and forth motion, our bodies fuse into one, our muscles
moving as if we were part of the same machinery. My brain is working overtime trying to process all the
information that my nerve endings send it, but it’s almost impossible; there’s a limit to how much pleasure
I can handle.
It doesn’t take long for me to come again, my pussy tightening around his cock as I claw at his back.
I do it hard, my fingernails sliding across his skin with enough strength to draw blood.
A grin dawns on my lips as I imagine how he’s going to look after I’m done with him; he’s probably
going to be able to say that he has just fought a wild cat if anyone asks him what happened to his back.
Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. I like being wild… as long as he’s with me.
A violent scream climbs up my throat and I purse my lips, throwing my head back against the wall
as I order my brain to keep my mouth shut. Even so, I can’t stop a moan from escaping into the cool air of
the room, my body burning up with orgasmic violence.
I tremble, shiver and twitch, all of me surrendering to him.
“Good,” he whispers against my ear, his lips seductively brushing against my skin. “Now we can
get started.”
Start? Oh, Jesus.
I’ve already came God knows how many times and only now he’s talking about starting? I don’t
know if I can actually survive this. Has anyone ever died from having too many orgasms?
Oh, well, that wouldn’t be such a bad way to go. I mean, everyone has to die; if I have to go, why
not have it happen while Palmer’s inside of me?
He pulls back, my skin prickling as I feel his cock sliding out, and puts me down. With a grin on his
lips, he places his hands on my waist and turns me around. I place my hands against the wall, at shoulder
height, and jut my ass back at him.
His hands run down my side, and he moves them over the curve of my ass, grabbing my cheeks
hard. He presses his body against mine, the warmness of his skin on mine. With his cock firmly pressed
between my cheeks, I start rocking my body, grinding against his cock.
I exhale sharply, ready for what’s to come; I reach for his cock and, grabbing it, push it down.
Placing the tip against my innermost folds, I let go of it and place my hand back on the wall.
He eases into me gently, my pussy resting against the tip of his erect cock. As he moves, I have to
grit my teeth as he pierces me, my inner walls once again accommodating his massiveness.
When he’s in me to the hilt, he starts to move with a slow and gently rhythm. But I don’t want to
move slowly; I want to go fast. I want to go furious.
I start jutting my ass back, moving my hips with a ferocity I didn’t know I had in me.
Fucking me hard, he places his hands on my hips and pulls me in as he thrusts, my mind almost
destroyed by the intensity of his thrusts. My back arches as I succumb to his thrusts, my body sandwiched
between a perfect man and a slab of concrete, with no escape possible.
And, really, why would I want an escape? He should be the one wondering about escaping, because
I’m not letting him go anywhere—at least until my body is utterly and completely spent, that is.
Holding me against the wall, his rhythm starts to grow at a mind-bending pace, his cock hitting me
so fast that I can already feel the blood inside my veins starting to boil.
I moan through gritted teeth, closing my eyes as all existence starts to fade away. I can’t see or hear;
I can only feel. The whole universe seems focused on the place where our bodies meet and fuse, his cock
pounding my pussy without a single hint of mercy.
I come once again, my body completely electrified. I rest my forehead against the wall, hitting it
repeatedly as I try to cope with the raging joy that courses through me. It’s perfection, one devoid of any
kind of mental brakes or whatsoever.
Just like that I let a loud moan tumble out from my lips. I almost don’t even care if anyone hears us.
He pulls his cock out and places his lips against my neck, kissing me tenderly. Then, he makes me
turn on my heels, my back against the wall. My hands go to his chest and, clawing at his pectorals, I smile
mischievously.
My hands go to his shoulders and I push him back, motioning toward the bed. He doesn’t complain
as I guide him there, making him sit as I look upon him with hungry sinful eyes.
He licks his lips, his eyes never leaving mine, and I climb on top of him, my legs open wide as I sit
on his lap. My hands slide down his chest and, once again, his cock is in my hands.
Guiding his thick member home, I let it pierce me like a spear, his shaft going in easily. I don’t give
him time to process what’s about to happen; I simply start rocking my body against his, my ass slapping
his legs as I go back and forth.
I move wildly, still out of control, and close my eyes as he reaches for my breasts, grabbing them
eagerly as I fuck him in abandonment.
I ride him hard, and I ride him fast, punishing his cock with all my might. I feel drops of sweat
pooling on my forehead, but these only make me go faster. My muscles are already aching, but I don’t care
—I’m a woman on a mission, and I won’t be denied.
I grin as I feel sweat dripping down my back, down my face and into my lips, the salty taste of it
coating my tongue.
Suddenly, I get up in a rush and, before he can do anything, I turn my back to him and ease myself
down on his cock once again. His hands go down my back to my ass, and he slaps my cheeks hard as I
start riding him in a reverse position.
My ass bounces up and down, slapping his body again as I try to survive the onslaught of pleasure
that rages through me like a wildfire.
If anyone told me the world would end tomorrow, and that this would be the last time I’d be with
anyone… Well, I can say with confidence that I wouldn’t be able to do any better. I’m giving my all here.
I clench my jaw, breathing through my nose as my muscles start to spasm. I don’t even feel the need
to scream anymore—my body does all the talking now, my muscles jerking as I come once more.
I might be coming, but I’m too far gone to stop—I keep riding him violently, my ass bouncing up
and down as his cock ravages me. Somehow, though, he still manages to resist my assault.
But not for long, I can guarantee you.
Standing up once more, I tower over him like a Queen. He looks at me with a grin on his face,
sweat on his forehead, and I grab his hand. I motion for him to lie down on the mattress, and that’s exactly
what he does.
Guided by instinct, I immediately plant each foot on the side of his thighs. I squat down, grabbing
his cock and pointing it straight up. I brush it against my folds, his tips rubbing against all of my length,
and only then do I go lower
I go as slow as I can, his shaft gently lodging itself inside of me. Then I start to jump and down over
his cock, moving as fast as I can and pushing through my exhausted muscles.
I might be tired; I might be spent, but I’m not a quitter. I will see this through.
It doesn’t take long.
Before I know it, his cock starts to spasm and I feel a warmth inside of me. He starts to cum, his
semen gushing inside of my pussy like a fountain, filling me to the brink and dripping down his cock. It
goes on for what seems like forever, an endless torrent of thick cum inundating me as I finally ease myself
down and stop moving, allowing myself to savor the sweet ecstasy that courses through us both.
Still coming, he hooks his fingers on my waist and thrusts upwards, I let out a surprised moan as the
tip of his cock goes as deep as possible, yanking one final orgasm out of my system. I lean forward,
grabbing his ankles as flames of indescribable pleasure crash against my body and turn my mind into
ashes.
I roll to the side, completely spent, and smile as I feel thick strands of cum dripping out of my pussy
and down my legs. I hear him moving, but I don’t even open my eyes—he kisses me then, his lips brushing
against mine with a gentleness that contrasts with the way we fucked.
Because there was nothing gently about these last minutes—it was pure and unbridled fucking.
And God, I loved every single second of it.
I lie down next to him, my eyes closed as I try to catch my breath. After a while, I finally open my
eyes and look up at the ceiling. How many times did I stay awake in this same bedroom, wondering about
my future through the long hours of the night?
And now here I am, with a man by my side.
A man I’m falling in love with.
 Nicole


I toss the tomato chunks into a bowl, and then I place a cucumber on the cutting board and slice it
into thin medallions. Looking at this cucumber, I can't help but think about Palmer's huge, thick… no, stop
that Nicole, get your head out of the gutter.
I need to focus on the restaurant... the food… my staff... staying afloat.
I can't get distracted. Not now.
Because, if I don’t focus, then I’ll end up thinking about him. Because if I'm being honest with
myself, I'm falling for Palmer.
There, I said it. I'm falling for that man.
I can't go a single minute without him being in some corner of my mind—his smile, his touch,
something funny he said, the way he makes me feel, or even the way he cooks his food.
It's ridiculous. Palmer's presence in this city might mean the end of my restaurant, but somehow, that
doesn't stop me from falling for him.
He could literally put me out of business, and every day I see the signs—raising rents, fancy cars, a
new clientele—but as each day goes by, I want him more.
How is that even possible?
The good seems to outweigh the bad.
I look up at the ceiling and give a silent apology to my grandmother. I'm sure she's rolling over in
her grave right now.
I'm sorry, nana. I feel like I'm letting you down. You gave me my love for cooking and you
believed in me. You envisioned me going far, and here I am, throwing it way for a man that I'm falling
head over heels for.
But this man has so many positives.
He's incredible with my family, and they love him. He's charming, and funny, and gracious—and he
had my mom and dad in tears with laughter. He even helped peel potatoes, of all things.
He completely won them over.
"OUCH!" I hiss, looking down at my finger. I sliced right into it, and a red bloom appears on the
tip.
I run over to the sink and hold the cut under cold, running water. At least it's not deep enough to
warrant stitches. I reach for a band aid and wrap it tightly around my finger. Then, for extra precaution, I
place a latex glove over it.
"That looks deep," a voice says from behind me, and I jump. Literally, it feels like my feet have
come five inches off the ground.
I swing round to see who it is, and find the pale face of Percy Whitman.
 How long has he been standing there? Was he there long enough to hear me pour my heart out to my
dead grandmother?
"You scared me," I say. "I didn't expect to see you back here."
"I have some great news," he says beaming. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet; he's so excited.
"I could use some good news today," I say, looking around the restaurant and still nursing my finger.
"Some days, it feels like I'm drowning here."
"Remember The Pearl on Park restaurant that we talked about? And how you've been so worried
about it?"
How could I not? But Percy doesn't know this. No one knows that Palmer and I have been spending
time together.
He could never understand how much Palmer and his restaurant has been on my mind.
I shrug, trying to play it casual. I can't let Percy read my emotions. "Sure, what about it?"
"I've just learned that Chef Palmer's investors are backing out after all of the bad reviews he's
received."
"Wait, what? You mean Palmer's restaurants are in trouble?" I say.
"You got it—exciting, right? Now you don't have to worry about your future in this city," Percy
says, clapping his hands together.
My heart sinks, and my stomach spins the same somersaults I spun as an 8 year old in gymnastics
class.
"You really think he's going to shut down?"
"It's a good possibility that he'll have to close The Pearl on Park, from what I can tell. That's the
word on the street anyways."
"Wow, that's, uh—"
"That's big news, I know," Percy says, cutting me off. "I was so excited that I had to come over right
away and let you know."
"I don't even know what to say."
"I know… you're too excited for words," Percy smiles, petting my arm. There's something about his
touch that makes me recoil.
He thinks he's doing me a favor by writing all of these terrible reviews, and helping to shut Palmer
down, but now I just feel sick.
"I have to run," he says, giving me another pat on the arm. "But we'll talk again soon."
I watch as he walks out of the restaurant and I feel dizzy; my entire body is churning with emotions.
I'm so conflicted about this whole thing. And now, I feel guilty.
I'm the reason why Percy went after Palmer in the first place. And this guilt feels like a shadow
that's following me and pressing on my shoulders. Just knowing that I've hurt Palmer is a huge, black
weight on my conscience.
 This isn't who I am. I can't let this happen.
I'll never be able to live with myself if Palmer loses his restaurant. And the fact that he didn't tell
me… must mean he's been carrying the weight of this knowledge and didn't want to burden me with it.
I have to fix this. I have to find Palmer and explain my guilt to him.
He may hate me, and he may never forgive me… but I have to do it, even if it means losing the best
man I've ever had.
But maybe I can convince Percy to help me.
Love’s more important than business, right?
 Palmer


"The Pearl on Park is more than just a restaurant," I say. "It's a destination. It's innovative.
“It elevates cuisine, and gives diners an experience that they can keep for a lifetime. This is a
restaurant that elevates the culinary world of New York City."
"Some experience that's been," one investor says under his breath, rolling his eyes.
The restaurant is closed today, and my investors and I are sitting in the dining room. They called
this meeting last minute, and I knew it wasn't going to be an easy conversation.
It's bad enough that I'm losing money by being closed today, but now I'm forced to listen to a group
of skittish investors tell me that my food sucks and doesn't have a future. That's a tough pill to swallow.
"We just don't see it," one man says, shaking his head and scratching his short-cropped beard.
"Nothing's adding up."
"The reviews of your food are some of the worst we've ever seen, and that's saying something,"
another man says. His mid-section is so large that he's using it as a shelf for his hands. "The critic goes so
far as to say that an inexperienced child could do cuisine better than you can."
"I can explain," I say.
"There's no need," he says. "We've seen enough. The reviews make it crystal clear."
"Look, I have the money," I say. "I just don't have the liquidity to sustain this new venture without
your backing."
"We understand where you're coming from. We really do. And we pride ourselves on taking risks,"
one man says.
He's trying to sound empathetic but instead it comes off feeling patronizing. "We root for the
underdog and fund projects that many banks wouldn't touch within a 10-foot pole. But this is a risk we
can't take. It would be suicide. If the food was any good—"
"The food is good," I say, cutting him off. "Those reviews are bullshit. A man who has a personal
vendetta against me wrote them.
“I don't know why, or where that's stemming from, or what his issue is, but it's true. Let me prove it
to you. I'll cook for you right now—you can taste the food I make here at the Pearl—here, I'll fire up the
grill, and I'll share the menu with you and—"
"Mr. Palmer, I'm sorry, but this is non-negotiable," the bearded man says. "We've already made our
decision. Save your cooking for another time."
I nod my head. I'm trying to keep my cool, but I'm so frustrated that I think I could flip over every
table in this dining room, and Hulk every chair. I could rip down the curtains and smash every plate.
My frustration is boiling over, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to remain calm.
"Thank you for your time," I say, once I know this conversation is over. I did everything I could, but
even that wasn't enough. "I'll show you men out."
I watch as each of them push their chairs away from the table, and shuffle their feet to the front
door. I unlock the door, walk them step out into the afternoon sun, and walk as they disappear into a
nameless sea of businessmen and cars and taxis.
I lock the door behind them and then turn to look at my restaurant.
The Pearl was supposed to be my crowning achievement in life. It was supposed to be my legacy.
I've planned, dreamed, and prepared for this day my entire life.
But without investors, I'll have to close this flagship restaurant. There's no way around it.
How the fuck did things get this bad? How could I let this happen?
It feels like I've hit rock bottom.
I walk over to the bar and grab a bottle of Glendronach 18. People ask me what my favorite
whiskey is—and that's a tough question to answer because it varies on my mood, but this bottle right here
is always in my top five.
Happy, sad, mad, glad—whatever—you name it, and this whiskey works.
I grab a glass, and pour an amber ribbon of the liquid in. I take a sip and let the liquor burn a hot
trail down my throat. And then the flavors hit me—sweet sherry, leather, tobacco, and even polished
wood dance on my tongue.
I stare at the bottle's label. There's an idyllic sketch of what must presumably be the Scottish
countryside. And as I stare at this label, it hits me.
At least I still have Nicole.
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I remember her.
With her, I can get through this. I can get through anything.
In fact, I can picture sitting on a grassy hill, in the countryside with Nicole … just like the one on
this whiskey bottle.
Just then, I hear a rapid knock on the door. I turn and realize my day just got better.
It's Nicole.
I can't believe she's here. She's wearing a cotton dress that is getting kicked up by the wind, and her
hair is dancing about her shoulder.
I walk over and open the door.
"I'm so glad you're here," she says. "I saw you weren't open. I was worried. And I just wanted to
—"
"Shh," I say, placing a finger on her lips. "Less talking." I wrap my arms around her delicate body
in a full embrace and lift her off her feet. I pull her into the restaurant and lock the door behind us, and
then, I lean down and bring my lips to hers.
 Nicole


“Palmer,” I try to say, but I’m too weak to fight against his lips. When it comes to Palmer, I’m too
weak to resist. And even if I were strong enough to do it… I doubt I’d want to.
“Hush,” he tells me, lacing one of his arms around my waist and pulling me in. He leans into me,
my eyelids drooping as I press my lips against his. I feel his scent crawling into my mind then, creating a
perfect lustful perfume.
My hands climb up the side of his body, and I run them up his neck and to his hair. I curl my fingers
around locks of hair and force him to throw his head back. With a fiery smile, I hold him in place and kiss
his neck, my lips savoring his skin.
With a growl, Palmer looks at me and, placing his hands on my hips, forces me back. I step
backwards until my ass is pressed against the edge of one of the tables in the dining room, my hands
against his muscular chest.
My fingers on his collar, I start unbuttoning his dress shirt, my knuckles brushing against his tanned
skin. He grabs my hair hard and yanks on it; I throw myself back, sitting up on the table and supporting
myself with my elbows on top of it.
I keep unbuttoning his shirt, baring his chest inch by inch as he lays his lips against my neck,
nibbling at my tender skin. As I open the last button, I un-tuck his shirt, pulling it out from inside his pants.
I immediately press my hands against his chest, running my fingers over the marble edges of his muscles.
Who sculpted this man? My God, the lines between his abs and around his pectorals… This is
perfection.
He kisses me all over the neck, his lips traveling all the way to my shoulders.
He bites on the straps of my dress, grabbing the right one between his teeth and pulling it down. He
lets it fall down my arm and then grabs the other strap with his hand and tugs on it as well.
The front of my dress droops over my chest, my breasts and black lace bra jumping into view. The
moment he catches a glimpse of my breasts, he grabs my dress and pulls on it harshly, sending the fabric
down to my waist.
With shaky hands, I run my fingers over his abs and up to his shoulders, sending his shirt down his
arms and onto the floor. My eyes wander once again over his perfectly chiseled muscles
My brain hasn’t even given me time to figure out to do, but I find myself lunging forward, reaching
with my tongue for his abs. I lick them with the tip of my tongue, sliding over the spaces between each
block of abdominal granite.
While I’m leaning forward, Palmer uses this moment to slide his fingers up my back and unhook my
bra. I feel the cups becoming looser over my breasts and, the moment I pull away from his torso, he curls
his fingers around my bra and tugs on it hard. A shiver goes through me as my naked breasts come into
contact with the air around me, my nipples hardening in an instant.
He reaches for my breasts then, his spread fingers gently squeezing my flesh. He starts squeezing
harder and harder, my hard nipple pinned between his fingers.
Reaching for him, I grab his wrist and guide his free hand to my left breast. He lays his fingers there
softly, pinching my rosy tip between his thumb and index finger. I look up at the ceiling, close my eyes and
take a deep breath.
I came in here to tell him something, but oh, how could I resist something like this?
The moment I open my eyes, he’s already coming for me. He presses his mouth against my neck,
laying gentle kisses on my skin as his hands caress my breasts.
Pressing my thighs together, I realize I’m soaking wet. My thong is completely drenched, and I
already feel it dripping down my thighs.
Have I ever been this wet? I’m so damn horny I’d need a perfect man to satisfy my cravings, and
what do you know? I do have the perfect man right here, and he’s ready to do my bidding.
I lace one arm around Palmer’s neck and, with the other, I reach for his crotch. I flatten the palm of
my hand there, my fingers pushing against the tented fabric. He’s already hard, his cock almost vibrating
with furious desire.
I close my hand around it, grasping it tight, and give it a firm squeeze. As I do it, he stops kissing
my neck, his mouth going straight down; he takes his hand off of my breast, opening space for his mouth,
and immediately wraps his lips around my nipple.
Softly brushing his teeth against it, he teases me with pain but, in the end, he delivers only pleasure:
he pinches the rosy burning tip with his lips, sucking eagerly on it as he traces quick circles with the tip of
his tongue.
Curling my fingers around his thick member, he exhales sharply against my skin, sending goose
bumps all over my body. I start to stroke him, my hand fighting against the fabric of his pants as I flick my
wrist in a steady cadence.
Not letting go of his cock, I lean forward again, pressing my lips against Palmer’s naked chest. I let
my tongue run between his abs, the warmth of his skin making me lose all control.
I need him now.
Right now.
My fingers trembling with anticipation, I start to unbuckle his belt, and it comes undone with a
metallic clink. I go for his zipper then, pushing it down, his cock pushing back against my hand, stretching
the fabric of his underwear to the limit. I feel his hard cock brushing against my knuckles, and that only
reinforces the fact that I need to feel him, to have him, right now.
I'm actually surprised his throbbing member hasn't ripped its way out of the fabric that restrains it.
Oh, well, I can help with that; with my fingers on his waistline, I slide his boxers down and over his cock,
allowing it to jump straight into my hand.
 Instead of immediately grabbing it, I lean back, my eyes flying down to his cock as I run my tongue
between my lips.
Only then do I reach for him, curling my fingers around his long shape, feeling his warmth spread to
my hands and up my arms. I start moving my hand, stroking him with back-and-forth and movements as I
become wetter than ever. As I become possessed by desire, I start going faster, both my hands working
themselves into a blur of movement as I stroke him.
God, I want more. This is barely enough.
I jump down from the table, letting go of his cock and making him take a step back. Before he
realizes what I have in mind, I go down on my knees, looking up at him. He towers over me, a perfect
giant ready to unleash all his tension and desire upon my body.
I won’t let this moment go to waste.
Not a fucking chance.
I move to grab his cock again, but first there’s still something I need to do. I push his pants and
underwear down from his knees to his ankles, and he finishes the job by taking off his shoes and kicking
off his clothes.
My eyes sweep the room, looking with satisfaction at the pile of clothes scattered around the floor.
With him naked in front of me, I finally curl my fingers around his cock, resuming my jerking motion with
renewed strength.
With a grin full of sin and promise, I lean toward his cock, slightly parting my lips and darting my
tongue out. I flick it against his tip, scooping up the few drops of pre-cum glistening there, and a shiver
goes up my spine as his raw manly flavor coats my tongue.
Circling his tip with my tongue, I brush my lips against it, teasing him hard. I can already feel his
hand lying on my head, unconsciously nudging me forward.
Happy to oblige, but at my own rhythm, I open my mouth slightly, allowing his tip to squeeze itself
between my lips and over my tongue. I suck on it softly, slowly pulling my lips out before going in again. I
repeat this motion over and over again, each time I go in, my lips going just an inch further down his shaft,
my hand still clutching his cock.
As my lips finally meet the base of his huge cock, I roll them back out completely. Then, I tilt my
head sideways and lay my lips against the side of his shaft. I kiss him up and down, sucking on his shaft as
I go.
My mouth moves up and down until it finally inches closer to the root; I move even further down,
kissing his balls and sucking one of them into my mouth. I roll it over my tongue as I caress the tip of his
cock with my index finger, driving him completely crazy.
Going back up his member, I part my lips; instead of slowly allowing his cock inside my mouth, I
simply take it all in at once. His cock rolls over my tongue eagerly, only stopping at the back of my throat.
I wrap my lips around it and suck my way back, bobbing my head back and forth as fast as I can.
 His scent and flavor blends into a perfume of manliness that crawls all the way up to my brain,
digging its claws into it and driving me completely insane. I try to go deeper, pushing his shaft inside of
me until I can barely breath. Only then do I pull out, my hand still on his cock.
“Fuck, Nicole… you’re perfect,” he breathes out, grabbing my hand and pulling me up to my feet.
Before I can do anything, he pushes me back against the table, my ass once more against the edge.
Moving fast, he places his hands on my knees and pushes my legs apart; the moment there’s enough
space, he slides his hand up my inner thigh, pressing his open palm against my drenched thong. He presses
against me viciously, a submissive moan climbing up my throat and jumping down my lips.
With half a growl, he pushes my dress down. In under a second, he has me sitting on top of the
table, my juices dripping down my thighs. He goes for my breasts, his hands exploring my body and
making all of me buzz with excitement.
“You have no idea what I’ll do to you,” he whispers against my ear, his voice brimming with
promises. He kisses my neck, his lips traveling upward to my ear as well.
“Once I’m done with you, you won’t be able to tell left from right,” he continues, nibbling my
earlobe before continuing to kiss me down my neck.
His lips keep descending over my skin, slightly detouring when he finds the valley between my
breasts. He kisses the curve of my breasts and then takes one nipple inside his mouth, sucking it hard.
Then, he goes up to the other side, doing the same there.
My skin starts to prickle as he changes gears and lowers his mouth, going over my navel and
dangerously closing in on my pussy. My unconscious mind guiding me, I part my legs even wider, anxious
to have him use my body. He takes his time, though, his lips kissing my waistline and then going down to
my groins, never once venturing into untanned skin territory.
I grab his hair viciously, trying to force him right between my thighs; to my surprise, he doesn’t
fight back. I guide his mouth to my pussy and he presses his lips tightly over my wetness and against the
drenched fabric of my thong. His finger goes up my legs and to my thighs; grabbing my thong, he starts to
pull it down my legs.
As he pulls back from my pussy, I lift my ass up from the table and he takes it off of me in a
heartbeat, his eyes flying straight to my naked pussy, the expression on his face one of lust.
Like a ferocious animal, he attacks; he leans into my pussy, his lips immediately finding my clit and
wrapping themselves tight around it, choking it so intensely a sudden scream leaves my lips. With his
tongue, he runs circles around it, my body completely electrified. Letting my clit escape his mouth, he runs
his tongue between my inner lips, sucking my folds into his mouth.
With his lips on my clit, he presses down with his tongue, applying the right amount of pressure.
Then, he brushes one finger over my inner lips; not a full second after that, he slides it all the way in, his
fingertip flying straight to my G-spot. I arch my back, all of my nerves endings working overtime to send
the overload of information up to my brain. Which isn’t an easy task, but I push through, hell bent on
squeezing every last drop of pleasure from all of this.
Grabbing him by the hair, I ball my hands into fists, thrusting wildly and rubbing my pussy against
his mouth as I come. He makes it even more intense by keeping that perfect pressure on my G-spot, his
finger never moving through the storm that is my orgasm.
I let my head down and take a deep breath, pleasure raging through me. When I open my eyes again,
he’s looking straight at me, mischievousness flickering there—and then he’s gone.
He plunges into me, his tongue jabbing at my clit mercilessly. His finger slides out of my pussy and
he places both his hands under my knees, forcing me to place my legs over his shoulders.
I can’t help but moan as he ravages me completely, devouring my pussy mercilessly, a sensation I
never thought I’d feel exploding inside my brain. He keeps moving, his tongue squeezed tight between my
pussy lips as I come.
I can’t help but scream as well. My body trembling, I let the sound of my scream inundate the whole
room, a powerful orgasm taking the steering wheel and driving me right off pleasure’s cliff.
Working in tandem with my climax waves, his tongue settles into a lazy rhythm, caressing me with a
suspicious gentleness; somehow, I know this is just the calm before the storm.
Propping myself back up on my elbows, I look down at him. He pulls back, his eyes travelling up
my body. I smile at him, the orgasm washing over me and immediately leaving my body ready for more.
Standing up, he places his hands under my knees and pulls me into him, dragging my ass to the edge
of the table. I sit up, my hands darting to his rock-hard cock. I grab it, immediately moving my hips
forward so that his tip is just an inch away from my pussy.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” he asks, his voice lustful and mischievous at the
same time.
“I think I do,” I reply with an anxious nod, flames of desire crawling under my skin.
“I’m not sure about that,” he mutters under his breath, but he smiles all the same. “But I’m going to
show exactly how much I want you.”
“Then do it,” I groan, anxious to feel him inside of me.
I don’t want to waste any time on idle conversation: with my fingers curled tight around his cock, I
pull him into me. He comes willingly, grabbing his member and rubbing its fat head against my inner lips.
His tip goes up and down over my folds and, when I least expect it, he finally thrusts. Fuck, I’ve
missed him. There’s something ethereal about it; in a sense, it has to do with the size, but that’s not the
most important thing… It’s the way he’s capable of wielding it that leaves me pining for more.
If fucking were an art, then he has reached the pinnacle of mastery.
Thrusting hard, his cock strains against my inner walls as it goes in, pleasure whipping my brain
like a foreman. It doesn’t matter how many times I’m with him, it’s always transcendent whenever he
slides his cock in for the first time.
He keeps ramming me, his hands on my breasts, squeezing hard.
 “God…” I mutter under my breath as he starts to go faster, his cock ravaging me with such intensity
that I’m afraid my own soul might just shatter into a thousand little pieces. He doesn’t care about any of
that; of course, he keeps pounding and pounding, my body giving in to ecstasy.
Moaning, I let my body fall back over the table. I arch my back as I climax, my body burning from
the inside out. Like a wave you can’t fight off, his thrusts pull me deep into an abyss of pleasure and, for a
second here, I almost pass out.
Then, my body still adrift in a sea of pleasure, something lewd and wild crosses my mind.
I’m not done yet.
I want more.
“I want more…” I say, echoing my thoughts as I try hard to speak between breaths.
He doesn’t even respond. He simply pulls his cock out of me and leans forward; he picks my limp
body up from the table and, going down to his knees, puts me down onto the floor. Breathing hard, I roll to
the side, anxious for what comes next.
“Lay down,” I whisper at him, placing my hands on his chest and pushing him down. He does as I
say and I climb on top of him, holding his cock with both my hands and pointing it straight up.
I ease myself down, leaning forward and placing both my hands on his chest.
He starts to thrust then, but he does it at a gentle pace, Slowly, I move my hips at the same time,
rolling them over his waist as I feel his cock sliding in and out of me.
Slowly, he starts to up the pace, bucking his hips harder at me.
“Harder,” I find myself moaning, my voice echoing in the empty restaurant. He understands what I
mean pretty fast.
I close my eyes, surrendering to heavenly bliss has Palmer buries his cock inside of me. I can’t
even start to describe how it feels. It’s almost as if I died and went to Heaven.
He’s thrusting as hard as he can, his cock sliding in my pussy to the hilt while he keeps his lips
pressed against mine. My nerve endings are a mess, pleasure coming at me from all angles. My brain is
shutting down, all of my senses becoming overloaded. And, amidst all this chaos, all I do is scream as
loud as I can, the fact that my throat is sore as hell long forgotten.
“You’re mine,” Palmer says, his hips slapping against my ass.
“No,” I somehow manage to mutter between screams. It’s hard to get the words out—scratch that,
it’s almost impossible. Even so, I struggle and do it.
“You… You’re mine,” I say, my heart tightening up as the words roll out from between my lips.
I feel his hand on my hair then and, twisting it, he grabs a handful. I throw my head back as he pulls,
my back arched as he starts to thrust at a completely maddening pace. My sense of self disappears, and all
of my senses shut down. I don’t feel pleasure — I am pleasure.
I come hard. No, that doesn’t give justice to what I’m experiencing right now. I explode. I go off
like a nuclear bomb, my body burning in ecstasy.
 Supporting myself with my hands on his chest, I breathe out sharply, trying not to pass out. My mind
is running on fumes, all of my thoughts nothing more than a scattered collection of images and sounds.
I roll to the side, a cascade of moans falling from my lips, my body sensitive to every single touch.
His cock pops out of my pussy, and I close my eyes as I lay down on the floor.
A few seconds—that’s all I need. God, I need to catch my breath. Have I ever felt this exhausted?
“Need a break?” I hear him say, and that wakes up something inside me.
Of course I don’t need a break.
Not when I’m with him.
Grabbing me by the waist, he forces me to roll to the side, making me lay belly down on the floor.
He climbs on top of me and, sliding one hand under my belly, makes me stick my ass up.
"Fuck me..." I whimper, my voice tinged with what sounds like begging. I raise my ass back in his
direction, my back tracing an upwards line towards him. He grins as I beg and slaps my ass, a red mark
appearing immediately as I moan loudly. "Fuck me, please, Palmer."
His fingers go under my ass and between my legs, rubbing against the wet lips of my pussy. I’m
desperate right now, I need his cock more than anything.
Luckily, he doesn’t want to make me wait: he presses his hips against me, the tip of his cock finding
my wetness and, parting my folds wide, slowly entering me, each inch of his long, hard cock earning a
gasp from my mouth.
He’s going slow, but I want it all, and I want it here and now. I press my body back against him,
forcing his cock to go all the way in one swooping motion, like a sword sheathed to the hilt.
I don’t need to say a thing; he knows what I want, and he knows how I want it.
He grabs me by the hips, both his thumbs resting against the dimples in my lower back and, holding
my body still, he starts going back and forth, his cock sliding in and out of me furiously.
My ragged breathing turns into wild moans, and these moans turn into low screams of furious
pleasure. My fingers turn into claws against the floor, lines of pain and pleasure forming around my eyes.
My lips are pursed, my teeth gritted.
He’s coming at me hard and mercilessly, the sound of his thighs slapping my ass growing louder as
his cock keeps on ravaging me.
"Harder! Harder!" I scream out and Palmer obliges, upping his rhythm to a tempo so rough I’m
amazed I can keep up with him. But not only can I keep up, I also want and need to keep going like this; I
need to feel ravaged, to feel utterly and completely destroyed with a pleasure so intense it scorches all of
my thoughts.
He wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, both our bodies glistening with it.
Palmer grits his teeth in effort as his body keeps on rocking against mine, my whole body hurting with the
ferocity with which he’s fucking me.
"Yes... Yes..." I moan, over and over again, my head resting against the mattress as if I have no
more strength left in my body to raise it.
“So… fucking… tight,” he groans and, even though I can’t see him, I can already imagine the wide
grin he has on his face. He slaps my ass hard as his cock ravages me, my inners walls tightening around
his member, each stroke of his driving us closer to the brink of madness. And he simply won't stop.
He’s fucking me wildly, my mind completely overwhelmed by the sensations jolting through my
body.
I feel like his prey right now.
"Don't..." He doesn't need to hear the rest of my words to know what I want, but I carry on. "Don't
stop! Don't stop!"
He keeps going and going until my pussy tightens so hard around his cock it’s almost a miracle he
still manages to keep on thrusting. He savors my tightness with each stroke, burying himself deep inside
me and then retreating until only his tip remains in me.
One final and deep stroke and a wild scream scratches the back of my throat, bubbling up to my lips
as a desperate cry of pleasure.
Palmer tightens his grip on my hips, keeping me in place as he fucks me into obliviousness with a
savage fury, my whole body spasming in a seizure of ecstasy. I twitch and spasm until all strength leaves
my limbs, my body collapsing onto the bed completely spent.
Following after me, Palmer rests his body on top of mine, his cock still firmly planted inside my
pussy, his chest and stomach lying against my back. He rocks his body against mine like that, his cock
moving back and forth with a will of its own; Palmer’s rhythm only changes when the insanity of release
takes over him.
I can almost feel the adrenaline raging in his veins, crawling under his skin and making him feel as
if he’s about to burst. His muscles tense hard and, for a moment, he even stops breathing, his mind
directing all vital functions to the only thing that matters right now—pleasure.
He chokes a groan in his throat, and I feel a current going from deep inside of him to his cock. He
exhales between gritted teeth as his cock spasms violently inside me, his cum darting out and filling me
up. He buries himself as deep as he can go, drawing a cry from me as he does it; he holds there, feeling
the spasms of his cock spread through his whole body.
“This…this was perfect,” he whispers against my ear, and then rolls down to the side and sprawls
his arms to the side.
“It was,” I agree, rolling to my back and looking up at the ceiling. Yes, this was perfect…but I still
haven’t told him all about Percy.
And I’m afraid of what might happen when I do.
 Nicole


“It feels so different,” Palmer whispers, looking up at the ceiling. We’re still lying on the floor of
his restaurant, my head resting against his chest as he holds me close.
“What?” I ask him, slowly moving my face so that I’m looking at him.
“The restaurant,” he replies, his eyes still focused on something that I can’t quite see. Maybe he
isn’t looking at anything. Maybe he’s just looking inward, rummaging through all the thoughts he guards so
well.
“It’s always full, you know?” he continues, distractedly running one hand through my hair. “It’s
different when it’s empty. It feels like an empty shell.”
“Tomorrow it’ll be full again,” I tell him, turning to him and placing one hand on his chest. “You’ll
see.”
“I doubt that,” he whispers, the tone of his voice so casual and indifferent that I can’t quite decide
what he’s feeling right now. It almost seems like he’s trying to detach himself from his restaurant, the one
thing in the world he seems to care about.
It breaks my heart to see him talk like this.
“You can’t doubt yourself,” I try and tell him, my mouth going dry as the words leave my lips. How
can I be telling him all this when I’m the one that took the leash off Percy?
It’s my fault The Pearl on Park is having issues. If I hadn’t behaved like I did, complaining about a
man I knew nothing about, none of this would be happening.
Sure, the slow march of progress would eventually force me to close down my restaurant, but so
what? That’s the cycle of life. If it isn’t Palmer’s restaurant, it’ll be a shopping mall next week, or some
high-rise condo.
But no, I had to bitch about the competition to Percy, and he took it upon himself to start a war
against a man who doesn't deserve any of it.
“It’s over, Nicole.”
His voice... so casual; cold even. It’s almost as if he doesn’t care about what happens next. It hurts
to hear him speak about his restaurant like this; I know that, more than anything, he wanted it to be a
success.
And now his dreams seem to have been crushed.
“It doesn’t need to happen like this,” I insist, not sure if I believe my own words. What do I know
about anything?
I’m just the owner of a small bistro restaurant; I never had to deal with investors or anything like
that. I know absolutely nothing about the inner workings of a multi-million dollar enterprise.
“Forget about it. Whatever happens, happens,” he whispers, his vacant gaze reaching for some
place where I can’t reach him. I just stay there, nestled against his body and staring at his face, the dim
lights of the restaurant making his features sharper.
He’s smiling, but there’s a certain sadness to it.
It’s almost tragic.
More than just it being about the restaurant, I see a deeper worry in his eyes. He feels as if the
clock is running out on him, and I know he believes his next breath might be the last one. I can’t even
imagine how it must feel to know he won’t have the time to see his dream come true.
Then, almost as if we we're commenting on the weather, he simply shrugs and sits up. He stretches
his arms and then goes up to his feet, jumping inside his boxer briefs and pants.
He starts making his way toward the kitchen and I follow after him, throwing his button-up shirt
over my shoulders.
“Hungry?” he asks me, opening the large fridge that seems to take over half the wall of his
industrial kitchen, large enough to house a small army of cooks and waiters.
“I’m fine,” I reply offhandedly, still thinking about how I should tell him. Because I have to tell him
that I’m to blame; if it weren’t for me, The Pearl on Park would be a success.
“No, you’re not,” he chuckles, more to himself than to me. “Nothing good happens on an empty
belly, you know?” He continues, grabbing a couple of eggs and bacon from inside the fridge.
He grabs one of the frying pans hanging overhead and lights up the stove, and I just watch as he cuts
a small square of butter and lets it fall from his fingers into the pan.
“Palmer... there’s something I must tell you.”
I don’t even know how I summoned the courage to tell him that. But, somehow, I did. He raises his
eyes, his gaze meeting mine, and then he just waits for me to continue.
“I was the one that -”
The words lose themselves on the way up my throat as I catch a glimpse of something on the
counter next to me. There’s an open notebook there, a fountain pen resting between pages, and my eyes are
immediately drawn to what’s written in there.
“Nicole?”
I hear Palmer’s voice, but I’m not even processing what he’s saying. I’m just reading what’s written
on the notebook; it’s a long list of ingredients and procedures, all of them a step toward reverse-
engineering my grandmother’s recipe.
No, it can’t be.
I try and tell myself that I’m dreaming, but there’s no mistaking it. It’s all there, in his little
notebook. He’s been trying to figure out my family’s recipe, and without telling me.
But why would he do that? Unless... unless he was planning to use it as a hail Mary attempt at
saving his restaurant. Maybe he hasn’t given up on The Pearl on Park. Maybe he’s still trying to save the
only thing he cares about, even if that means stealing from me.
 Even if that means betraying me.
“Nicole, are you okay?” He asks me, taking one step toward me, but I can’t even look into his eyes.
I just purse my lips, throw his shirt over the counter, and walk back to the dining room.
He follows after me, surprised, but I remain silent as I pick my clothes up from the floor and get
dressed.
“I just remembered,” I tell him, lying with every single tooth I had, “there’s somewhere I need to be
right now.”
“Nicole—” he calls after me, but I don’t stop. I just walk out of his restaurant, tears stinging my
eyes.
How could I have been so wrong about Palmer?
 Palmer


One minute I'm offering to make Nicole bacon and eggs, and the next she's running out of the
restaurant as if her feet are on fire. She couldn't get out of here fast enough. She didn't so much as give me
an explanation, or even a look.
I've never seen her act that way before.
Things were going so well… maybe even perfect. At least more perfect than I've ever known a
relationship with another person to be.
My mind replays all of the moments we shared this week, to see if anything was amiss. Was there
something I didn't pay attention to? But the more I think about it, the more I think that all of the moments
were perfect.
Like the other day—sharing one of the best steak recipes with her.
I stirred the chocolate sauce on the stove. The kitchen smelled amazing, and we were still standing
there in an after-sex glow. I was shirtless, and she couldn't keep her eyes off of my body. I couldn't keep
mine off of hers, either.
I mixed in heavy cream, dark chocolate, and chili pepper. To give it some kick, I said with a wink.
"And you're serving this on a steak?"
It's going to be mind blowing—just wait and see," I promised her with a smile.
"When I think of chocolate, I think of ice cream, or sundaes, or strawberries, or cake, or even
truffles… but steak?" she said.
"Trust me."
"I do," she said.
The way she said that with the depth of her eyes, more than her words, made me know she meant it.
And it also made me melt faster than the chocolate in that saucepan.
I continued to whisk the chocolate until it was thick and glossy like a silk robe. I added a splash
more cream, and a sprig of rosemary to top it off.
"Perfect," I smiled. "Could you grab me that filet?"
She nodded, and brought me the perfectly caramelized steak.
"How did you get so good at cooking steaks?" she asked.
"That's a secret," I smiled.
She watched me as I drizzled the chocolate sauce over the fillet and carefully sliced off a piece.
"Here," I said. "Taste this."
She leaned in and carefully parted her lips. I brought the fork to her mouth, carefully placing it on
her tongue with my free hand underneath it.
"Oh. My. God. That's good. Sinfully good, Palmer," she said, her face flushing—either from the
heat of the chili pepper, or from me handfeeding her the amazing steak, I’m not sure.
I smiled at her reaction. "There's a hint of coffee in there too," I told her. "Can you taste it? It brings
out the chocolate."
Her eyes rolled back in her head as she chewed.
"You are a culinary god," she said. "I'm dead serious."
My thoughts come back to the present.
That was one moment of many perfect moments. She called me a god. Everything was going so
well.
But now? Now Nicole's colder than a freezer-burned drumstick.
I pick up my cell phone anddial her.
The phone rings and goes to voicemail.
Fuck. Now she's ignoring me.
What the fuck is going on?
I call her restaurant and Kate picks up.
"You've reached The Old Tale, how can I help you?"
"Hi, Kate—it's me, Palmer."
"What do you want?"
"I need to talk to Nicole and she isn't answering her phone," I say. "Is she there?"
There's a moment of silence.
"Please—I just need a quick word with her."
"Sorry, she isn't here," Kate says. "She left me running the restaurant today."
"Is she OK? I mean, she isn't answering her phone," I say. "She isn't returning my calls. I left
countless messages, and it's driving me crazy because I have no idea what's wrong."
"Look, I'm going to be blunt with you," she says. "Nicole is through with you."
"What?" I say, unable to comprehend what she's saying.
But instead of clarifying, or saying anything further, Kate hangs up and the line goes dead.
Well, that wasn't helpful.
That gave me more questions than answers.
I look around the kitchen and pace back and forth. What is it, what is it… why is she so upset?
Then I look down at my recipe notes. They're in an open notebook on the counter.
Did she see these notes when she was here?
I shake my head. No, I'm sure she didn't.
I walk over to the bar and pour myself a drink. I look across the kitchen, and then walk out into the
dining room. To think—in no time, this place will be turned into God knows what. It will no longer be the
culmination of all my hopes and dreams.
All of my goals will be gone down the drain.
 I pour a second drink and feel my body start to relax.
At least I gave it everything I got, right? I can look myself in the mirror every morning and say I
tried… and I guess that's more than most people can say.
I pour a third drink and gulp it down. Now the liquor is really starting to take effect and I feel a
slow blurring of my thoughts at the edges of my mind. My body is completely relaxed at this point, and my
mind doesn't have a filter.
With Nicole deserting me… and the restaurant closing… what do I have left in New York City?
Maybe it's best if I leave this place… this city… completely.
As soon as this thought enters my mind, it takes hold and solidifies itself as a real solution. It feels
like the right thing to do.
Yes, I should leave.
There's nothing left for me here.
 Nicole


I'm home wearing my favorite stretchy pants, a pint of chocolate ice cream in one hand, and an
entire bottle of red wine in the other. And I've already eaten my way through half the pint of ice cream,
and this bottle is my second of the night.
Don't judge.
Desperate times calls for… some indulgences.
I'm almost through that second bottle of wine, and I'm lying on the couch watching an old romantic
comedy. It's called "When Harry Met Sally" and it's one of my favorites.
It doesn't matter how awful of a day I've had; when that movie comes on TV, I'm captivated and my
mood is transformed. Literally, there is always at least one scene that will have me laughing.
Like when Meg Ryan's character, who plays Sally, does the famous fake orgasm scene in Katz
Delicatessen. She just keeps telling Harry that all women fake orgasms and he can't believe that. He says
no way, that can't be true, because he's been with countless women and they've all had orgasms.
But Sally just kind of smiles and insists he's wrong and that what he's saying is a typical guy thing
to say, you know?
They go back and forth like this until Sally sort of puts her foot down and proves it to him by having
a fake orgasm right there in the deli. In front of the other diners, the waitresses, everything.
I always get a kick out of that because she doesn't seem embarrassed... she just launches right in.
And she does it so well and is so convincing that when a waitress walks by she famously says, "I'll have
what she's having." And of course she totally wins Harry over… together with the rest of us.
It's a great scene. And you know why? Because it's an honest scene.
I know someone who could stand to learn a lot about honesty: Palmer.
I take another swig from the wine bottle and lie back down on the couch. My body is warm and
loose, and I have the distinct underwater feeling that I get when I've had too much to drink.
I watch as Harry's character finally says, "I came here tonight because when you realize you want
to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
That line always gets me.
I don't know if it's the excessive wine, or my hormones, or both, but now I'm crying. Literally
crying.
I can't help it. I'm even sniffling a little. I pull the sleeves of my sweatshirt down low and use it to
wipe my eyes.
I feel stupid for crying, but it's uncontrollable.
The movie poses the problem—does sex mess everything up? Like can a man and a woman be
friends without letting sex get in the way of things?
 I sigh. What if I never slept with Palmer?
How would things be different, if at all?
Why couldn't I have just kept things professional?
Instead, I let down my guard. I was so stupid. I made myself vulnerable.
I was too available… even getting out of bed to see him in the middle of the night, and look what
happened? What the hell was I thinking that night?
I was used. Plain and simple.
And the worst thing about it is that I was blind to it all. I didn't even recognize what was happening.
Just then, I hear a knock on the door. My head feels like it weighs a ton and is lodged in a fish
bowl, but when I open the door, I play it off like I haven't been drinking a thing. But the person at the door
is Kate, and she's not buying it. She knows me too well.
"Uh, oh… how many bottles of red have you had tonight?" she says in a mocking tone.
"None," I lie, and then backpedal. "Ok, well… maybe one."
Kate looks around my living room and spies both bottles.
"You mean two?"
"OK, fine, so sue me… I've had two, but I've also had a rough week so cut me some slack," I say.
Kate laughs. "Not this movie again," she says, looking over my shoulder and directly at the TV.
“This must be the millionth time you've seen it, right?”
"Not a million," I laugh. "But OK … maybe nine hundred and ninety nine thousand."
"Sounds about right."
"Did everything go OK at the restaurant today?" I ask.
"Went great," she says, "But I did get a phone call?"
"A phone call?"
"Palmer called looking for you," she says. "He sounded pretty desperate."
Hearing his name makes me cry all over again. I try to hide it by looking away. I don't want Kate to
see me like this, but nothing gets past Kate.
"Come here, babe," she says, putting one arm around me. "It's OK. Everything's gonna be fine."
"I'm so stupid," I mumble into her shoulder. "So, so stupid."
"Don't say that," she says, brushing the hair away from my face with her fingers. "You're one of the
smartest people I know. I wish I had a quarter of your drive and determination."
"But look at me," I sob. "I'm a mess. I feel for a man who was the enemy, and he used me. I honestly
believed me had something special. I believed we were falling for each other."
"Look at me," Kate says, pulling my face close to hers. "Forget about Palmer. There are plenty of
fish in the sea."
 Palmer


“You were telling the truth,” the blonde girl cries out, her jaw hanging open as she takes in the
luxurious dining area of The Pearl on Park. “You really are Palmer!”
“That’s right,” I tell her casually, taking off my jacket and throwing it over one of the empty tables. I
knock down a vase of flowers, but I couldn’t care less; this ship is already going down, so what do some
flowers matter?
As far as I’m concerned, the whole place could go down in flames.
Hell, I might even be the one setting a match to it.
“Where are you going, Palmer?” The girl asks me, closing the distance between me and trying to
kiss me. I guess now that she believes I’m Palmer, the oh-so-fucking-famous-chef, that she won’t grow
tired of using my name.
I sidestep her fast, and then make my way toward the bar. I step inside the service area, and then
grab a bottle of a 35-year-old Yamazaki whiskey. The whole bottle costs more than thirty thousand
dollars, but I don’t give a shit; I need a fucking drink right now.
Well, I need another drink.
I’ve spent the whole night trying to drown myself in beer and cheap liquor, trying to forget all about
The Pearl on Park, Nicole, and what must be my impending death sentence.
A failing restaurant, a girl on the run, and a fucking brain tumor—yeah, my life’s perfect right now.
Even Pollock’s paintings aren’t as messy as my life has become.
“Oh, I don’t like whiskey,” the girl tells me, and I instantly regret bringing her here. What the hell
was I thinking? Sure, she looked fine from a distance—firm breasts, curves that seemed like a perfect fit
for my hands, and a smile easy enough for me to know she’d be down for some fun.
But that’s not all there is to a woman. Not after Nicole.
“Can you fix me a Sex on the Beach?” she asks me, looking at me as if she expected me to put down
my bottle of whisky and get started on her fucking cocktail.
“Here,” I mutter, grabbing a beer from under the counter and slamming it down in front of her. I do
it so fast that foam starts rising up the neck of the bottle, and she jumps back from the counter to avoid
spilling some on her dress.
“I didn’t ask for a beer,” she continues, her tone of voice now telling me she’s getting slightly
annoyed at me. Not annoyed enough to leave, it seems.
“Well, that’s what you’re getting tonight.”
Without even looking back at her, I start pouring the Yamazaki into a glass, watching as the amber
liquid splashes on top of two ice cubes. I let it flow from the bottle onto the glass until I’m sure there’s
almost five thousand dollars of whisky on top of the ice, and only then do I put the cap back on the bottle.
 “It’s true what they say about you,” she says, leaning against the counter in such a way that I can see
nothing but her cleavage.
“And what’s that?”
“You really are an asshole,” she replies, giggling as if she had just told me the funniest joke in the
universe.
“A rich asshole, mind you,” I shrug, waving my free hand at the empty restaurant. “I guess being
rich balances out all the rest, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe it does,” she laughs, going around the counter and biting down on her bottom lip.
“Amanda, I -”
“My name’s not Amanda,” she tells me, taking one more step toward me.
“Listen, Anna.”
“It’s not Anna either,” she continues, placing one hand on my chest and allowing it to slide down to
my belt.
“Look, whatever the fuck your name is, I’m not interested,” I find myself saying.
And, fuck, I can’t believe I’ve said it. This is a first for me. She was about go down on her knees
and here I am, refusing a pretty woman’s lips just because I’m feeling down.
“Then why did you bring me here?” she snaps at me.
“I have no fucking idea.”
I’m guessing she didn’t like my honesty, pursing her lips, she steals the glass of whisky from my
hands and throws its content at my face.
I stand frozen in place as five-thousand dollars worth of whiskey drips down my hair and face, and
then I watch her snatch her purse from the counter and storm out of the restaurant, slamming the door
behind her.
Good fucking riddance.
Alone again, I turn my attention back to the whiskey bottle sitting on the counter.
“Hey, ol’ friend,” I whisper to the bottle as I pour some more inside my now empty glass. “Now
that we kicked out Amanda—or whatever the fuck her name was—I guess we can enjoy each other’s
company, huh?”
Without even blinking, I throw my head back and down the whisky in one single gulp. Then, as the
fire goes down my throat, lightning seems to take over my mind. The memories come fast, and they come
hard.
Cooking with Nicole in here.
Having her cook for me at her apartment.
Having lunch with her family.
Her curves, the warmth of her skin.
Her smile.
 What the fuck am I doing here, talking to a bottle of a whisky like an alcoholic jackass?
I love her.
If there’s one thing I’m sure of in my life—however long it may be—is that I fucking love Nicole.
Leaving the bottle forgotten on the counter, I grab my jacket from the table and put it on. Then, I
grab my helmet and put it on as I race out of the restaurant, my heart beating at a thousand miles per hour.
I can’t even think straight as I hop on my bike and make my way toward her apartment, hell-bent on
kicking down her door and taking her into my arms, the one place where she belongs.
Forget about money, fame, and restaurants.
Nicole’s the only thing I care about.
I park my bike just around the block, and I’m about to make my way down the street as I see a cab
stop in front of her apartment building. I stare at it through the visor of my tinted helmet, and I feel my
heart shrinking inside my chest as I recognize the guy getting out the cab.
Percy fucking Whitman.
What is he doing in Nicole’s apartment building? I watch him enter the building, and then I just sit
there on my bike, my pulse quickening. I see dark spots taking over the corner of my eyes, and I grit my
teeth to try and regain some focus.
Nicole knows Percy, which means she was aware of the war he was waging against me. But it
doesn’t make any sense, unless... unless Nicole’s behind Percy.
Unless she wanted to see The Pearl on Park close its doors for good.
 Palmer


"Where would you like these tables placed?" a man says.
"Load them into the truck," I say. "Everything goes."
"Roger that."
I watch as every last piece of furniture, every utensil, every steel cooking tool is hauled out of the
building. They're going to be auctioned off, the money used to pay back my investors.
I watch as my dream is dismantled, piece-by-piece. The Pearl on Park… a one-time dream, is now
a painful reminder of my failure.
But it's over, and I'm ready to close these doors for good. I'm ready to finally let this all go and put
it behind me.
I walk outside and tape an announcement to the door. It reads:
"Closure notice: The Pearl on Park is now closing its doors until further notice. We apologize for
the closure. The building will be under new ownership. We thank each and every one of you for your
loyal support."
I stand back and look at the notice. I could've had someone else do it, but this restaurant was my
dream. If someone has to bury it, it'll be me.
It seems like the right thing to do, anyways.
"You're finally admitting defeat," a voice says.
I swing my body to see who it is, and my pulse increases. It's the last person on earth who I wanted
to see.
It's Percy Whitman.
"What do you want?" I ask.
It's an unseasonably cold day in New York, and he's wearing a black coat that sits in start contract
to his pale skin. He has both hands shoved into his pockets and he's rocking on his heels. The wind lifts
the edges of his thin, pale hair.
"I just had to see it for myself," he says, a smile parting his lips.
I can't help but ball one hand into a fist. Who the fuck does he think he is?
That arrogant bastard has the gall to come here and rub it all in my face?
It's taking everything in me to not put my fist through his face right now.
"See what?" I growl, taking a step closer. "Your handy work? It's unbelievable how quickly you
moved. But I guess you had help, with Nicole and all. Did you two plan my restaurant's demise over
cocktails? Or was it over lunch?"
He looks at me, and there's a genuine surprise in his eyes.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he says.
 I laugh. "Oh come on—spare me the bullshit. You know exactly what I'm talking about."
"It's true that I've never liked you," he says.
"You've made that loud and clear."
"And I think you're a cocky bastard, and I am glad you aren't triumphant with this place," he says.
"But Nicole had nothing to do with it."
"What?" Wait, is he telling me the truth?
Have I misunderstood this situation? Is Nicole innocent?
"It's true," he says, his lips still cracked in a smile. "She had nothing to do with it. I was the one
who never liked you. And I've been genuine in the fact that I've never appreciated your style of cooking.
You call it high-end cuisine, but I've seen it done better elsewhere. You cook without heart. It's like I can
taste your cockiness through the food."
I'm trying not to roll my eyes. I'm in no mood to get a lecture from this food critic slash asshole.
Here I am, standing on the street corner, taping a closure notice to my dreams, and Percy's feeding me a
line of bullshit.
Percy continues, "Besides, your restaurant closing is well-deserved because you're an asshole for
wanting to steal Nicole's grandmother's recipe."
Those last words catch me off guard.
"Wait, what did you just say?"
"Oh, don't play it off like you don't know what I'm talking about," Percy says. "Even Nicole knows.
She saw it with her own eyes."
My heart leaps into my throat, and my head spins.
The realization sinks in—so that's why Nicole has been acting so strange and is refusing to speak
with me!
I've got to act fast. I can't waste another minute.
"Thanks, Percy," I say, patting him on the shoulder.
He looks confused, like he wants to say something more, but shrugs it off and lets me walks away.
I stride away from the restaurant and take out my cell phone. I have a few calls that I need to make.
Maybe I still have time. Maybe it isn't time for me to lock my restaurant doors just yet.
 Nicole


I'm zipping my purse and getting ready to leave when Kate shows up.
"You have to see this," she says. She reaches into her own purse and pulls out a small envelope.
She hands it to me.
"What is it?" I say.
"Just open it."
Kate loves to keep me on edge sometimes, but I hate surprises.
Still, I give in and break the seal and open the envelope.
Inside there is a card the color of crème brûlée. The weight and texture of it in my hands tells me it
was printed on high quality stationery. The paper almost feels like linen, the expensive kind. Its edges are
lined in gold foil.
The card starts with a quote and I read it out loud:
"At one point in everyone's life, our inner fire goes out. If we are lucky, we find that fire ignited by
an encounter with another human being whose flame shines as bright.
“We should all be thankful for all the people who rekindle our inner spirit."
That quote is followed by yet another one that reads:
"The finest steel has had to go through the hottest fire."
At the bottom of the quote, there's a gold-foiled image of a fire, the flames dancing at the edges of
the card.
"Who gave you this?" I say, handing the card back to her.
"Turn it over," Kate says, refusing to take it back just yet.
So I turn it over and read it out loud again:
"Join us for a special evening at The Pearl on Park as we host our final dinner."
I look up at Kate. "You have to be joking, right?"
Why would she give me this? She knows how I feel. She knows how many pints of ice cream I've
eaten my way to try and get over Palmer, and how my ass is now probably going to be wider than the state
of Texas because of it.
"I think we should go," she says.
"Well, I was trying to leave when you showed up."
She shakes her head. "I mean that I think we should accept the invite and go to Palmer's dinner,"
Kate says.
"No way," I say, shaking my head in return. "I'm not going. There's nothing you can say to change my
mind. I have to put my foot down because that would be like pouring salt into an open wound."
"No it wouldn't, trust me," she says.
 "Remember that time you crashed a motorcycle and I met you at the emergency room and the
doctors insisted they give you a shot right in the muscle of your ass—as an effective painkiller—and you
resisted and tensed up so terribly that they had a hard time getting the needle in? I thought they were going
to break that needle in your ass."
"Thanks for the reminder… but what does that have to do with anything?" she asks.
"I just mean that if I show up to Palmer's dinner, it will be like that—equally painful for me," I say.
"Oh come on, that's a little dramatic," Kate says rolling her eyes.
"Trust me, it's not. You've seen what a mess I've been over this."
"You do have a point—the night I showed up to find you watching romantic comedy re-runs with
wine stains all over your shirt I thought I was going to have to stage an intervention," she laughs.
"Ha ha, very funny… go ahead and laugh now," I say with a smile, "but the next time you go through
some messy break up, I'll be the one laughing."
"You're over thinking this. Look at it this way," she says. "After what Palmer did to you, you should
go there and watch him go down in flames. This isn't something you should miss. That's all I'm saying."
Maybe she has a point.
Palmer screwed me over, and it would be kind of satisfying to see him get what he deserves.
Because he does deserve this, that's for sure.
And although I'm not the kind of person who seeks revenge, it might be the closure I need. Like
when you see someone’s corpse one final time and the realization sets in that they are no longer the person
you loved, and you know that person is really gone, and everything is different.
Whew.
Maybe I do need to see that Palmer is gone from my life, instead of running from him.
"I'll think about it," I say, and Kate smiles.
 Palmer


I'm more nervous than I've ever been in my entire life. The restaurant is packed.
The invitations were a success, judging by the sheer number of people who have showed up so far
—friends, acquaintances, colleagues, and what seems to be nearly every restaurant critic in the city…
even Percy Whitman.
It's exactly what I hoped for.
I shake hands. I smile. And I make my rounds.
As I walk around the restaurant, I pick up pieces of conversation. I get a personal peek into the
lives of all these people.
I hear one man say, "It's been weeks, but I think I've made up my mind. I want her back."
The other man considers this, chewing the last bites of his crostini. "Did she get a haircut?" he asks.
"I think so, yes. Why?"
"Forget about her then," the man says. "I hate to break it to you, but you're out of luck. She doesn't
want you back."
I continue walking, unable to hear the rest of that conversation, but it gives me some comfort to hear
that not everyone's life is perfect.
I walk past a group of women holding wine flutes filled with champagne. They are all wearing
short, pearl necklaces, and I wonder if it's in honor of The Pearl on Park. I overhear their conversation as
well.
One woman says, "Can you believe the bouncer at the door asked for my ID?"
"You didn't bring it?" another woman responds.
"I totally forgot it, so I look the bouncer in the eyes and I tell him I'm 30. But he just stares back at
me and insists that he still needs my ID. So I turn to him and say that I've just told him I'm 30. What
woman lies about that?"
The women laugh at this, but one remains fairly quiet.
The woman telling the story turns to her and says, "Why are you so quiet, Heather?"
And in a nonchalant sort of way, Heather turns to them and says, "Oh, I'm fine. I'm just saving my
personality for when everyone else gets here."
They all have a good laugh at that, and I have to admit, despite my nerves about the whole evening,
even I'm amused.
I hear another group of women talking. They're eating the blue cheese and pear tartlets that I've
prepared especially for this evening… and they're not just eating one, they seem to be eating them by the
handful.
I love seeing that. People enjoying the food, and relaxing enough to have a good time.
 One woman says, "Every psycho I've ever dated was an Aries."
The other woman replies, "Every psycho I've ever dated believed in astrology. But my new
boyfriend Tom, well, whenever he travels internationally, he texts me the minute he gets WiFi."
The first woman puts one hand over her chest. "That's so sweet. That's all I want… to be someone's
first thought when they have WiFi."
I move on and smile. But my smile fades when I see Nicole's table.
It's still empty.
What if she doesn't show up?
If she doesn't show up, this will all have been for nothing.
Just then, I feel a strong hand clap me on the shoulder. "I must tell you," the man says, "These
Prosciutto-wrapped asparagus might be some of the best I've ever eaten. And that's saying something
because I've eaten my way around the world."
"That means a lot," I say. "Thank you."
But as much as it does make me feel good to see people enjoying my cuisine, it doesn't fix the fact
that Nicole isn't here.
Brit walks out from the kitchen and whispers into my ear, "We need to get started," she says. "It's
time for the main course."
"Let's give it a few minutes," I say, hoping to buy a little more time. I don't want to start without
Nicole.
"Fine, a few more minutes," Brit says. "But that's it. We can't keep stalling."
As she walks off, my heart's on fire. Maybe this was a stupid idea. I mean, if Nicole has refused to
take any of my calls or even text me back, what makes me think she'll show up to this dinner?
I can feel my optimism fading faster than a phone battery on 20 percent.
Yes, this was definitely stupid. I never should've—
My thoughts are interrupted when I see who just walked through the front door.
She's gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous with her hair framing her face like a halo.
Everyone seems to turn in their seats when she enters.
It's Nicole.
She came.
 Nicole


As soon as I walk through the doors of the Pearl, I'm taken by surprise. This doesn't look like a
restaurant's final night.
Every critic in the city is here. There's Francis Ball, the food critic of the New York Times for the
last decade or so. There's also Rachel Smith, a celebrity chef with over a dozen #1 cookbooks under her
belt. I also spot Joe March, the obnoxious chef who tells it like it is and, in doing so, has won a Pulitzer
for keeping every chef in the world on their toes.
Even Percy Whitman is here. Why is he here if he hates Palmer so much? Maybe he's here for the
same reason I am… to watch him go down in a ball of flames.
But sitting here now, that's not the impression I get. It doesn't feel like Palmer's going down at all.
In fact, it feels like the opposite is true; it feels like he's on top.
This room is filled with the most impressive culinary group of people ever gathered in a single
room.
I get the sense that something big is coming.
A waiter comes by and offers me a glass of champagne. I thank him and take a sip. I recognize the
variety right away.
It's Champagne Collet Brut Art Deco. One of my favorites. Did Palmer know that?
I take another sip and am overcome with the flavors of raspberry and apricot, and even candied
lemon peel. Everything about it is perfect.
"Can I have your attention please, everyone," Palmer says, and my eyes dart to the front of the
dining room.
"First, I want to thank each and every one of you for being here tonight—even my most outspoken
critics."
Palmer looks directly at Percy as he says this and I hear some low murmurs in the crowd.
He continues, "I have a very special evening planned tonight."
"This should be good," Kate whispers into my ear. She promised to join me tonight, and I'm glad
she came. If she didn't, I'm not sure I would've been able to muster the courage to come here alone.
"I'm excited to present a dish to you this evening that I've worked long and hard on," Palmer says to
the crowd. He then lifts the silver lid off of a dish and everyone's necks are craning to get a good look at
it.
"Tonight, I present to you a Bodacious Bucatini Bolognese with heirloom tomatoes," he says, and
the entire dining room erupts in applause. I hear whispers from the table next to me. "I didn't know he had
a dish like this," one woman says.
And my heart sinks. It's sinking faster than the Titanic.
 I've been tricked. Again.
If I weren't already so emotionally spent, I'd cry. But I can't even cry right now because that
emotion has turned into anger.
I'm angry and shocked.
He adapted my grandmother's secret recipe and he invited me here tonight to rub it in my face and
use it as his own.
My face is hotter than a campfire. "I told you," I say to Kate. "I never should've come here tonight.
This was a huge mistake."
Kate doesn't say anything, but instead tenderly places her hand on top of mine.
Waiters are bringing this dish to every table and diners are smiling. Critics are taking notes and
their faces tell me just how impressed they are.
I'm astonished as I look around the dining room.
I've never felt so bad in my life. There's this blackness in the pit of my stomach. It's like I don't
want to die, but I don't exactly want to live, and I feel lonely… but I don't want to talk to anyone. I just
want to crawl into my bed and hide away from the world.
I feel lost. I'm disgusted with myself. My limbs feel heavy, like they're weighed down with lead
anchors. It feels like I'm on a bus and I'm ringing to signal the driver to stop because all I want to do is get
off this ride, but the bus just keeps going, and all I can do is watch the world move by through the
windows.
I think I've hit an all-time low.
Great. Just when I thought I wasn't going to cry, I feel hot tears well up behind my eyelids and
they're threatening to spill over.
I beg my body to not betray me like this. I can't cry. Not now. Not in front of this crowd.
I gather my purse and turn to Kate. "I'm sorry, but I have to leave."
But just as I'm about to stand up, Palmer makes another announcement.
And it's so surprising that I'm frozen to my seat.
 Palmer


There are murmurs building louder through the crowd and my heart is beating so fast, I feel as if I
might die right here, in front of the world's most powerful culinary critics.
That would be embarrassing.
I tell myself to breathe. Just breathe. Everything is going to be OK.
I hear a song play in my head:
"Everything's gonna be alright, everything's gonna be okay."
Right. It's now or never.
This is the moment I've been waiting for.
"I'm glad you are all enjoying this dish, but I have a confession to make," I say to the room, and
every table goes silent. I'm talking silent enough to hear a fly land on a napkin. Every single set of eyes is
now fixed on me.
"I invited you here tonight to help me surprise Chef Nicole," I say, and everyone is turning in their
seats, looking for her. She seems genuinely surprised.
"You see… one night she cooked this most amazing dish for me. It transported me to another time
and place. The place of her ancestors. It was authentic, and so full of depth of flavor and love and
creativity… and it told a story.
“More than that, it showed her genius as a fellow chef. I was planning to surprise her with this new
dish tonight."
There are now murmurs rumbling through the room again, but I continue on.
"This new dish was supposed to be a blend of my style and hers… a collaboration, if you will."
My eye's lock on Nicole's and I can't decipher what she's thinking. But she still seems to be in a
state of shock.
"I did this as a way to say that I love her—I love this woman—and sometimes different things come
together, combine, and become something beautiful."
Now Nicole's holding one hand to her mouth and she's crying. Even from this distance, I can see the
tears streaking down her cheeks.
The entire room is clapping.
"Bravo—congratulations!" I hear the crowd shout. But I raise my hand to silence them.
"Please don't clap for me," I say. "Clap for Nicole. Congratulate her instead, because she's the only
reason I managed to do something like this. She has elevated the way I approach cooking and my own
cuisine."
The crowd grows louder. The clapping has now reached a fevered pitch and everyone is on their
feet, turning to Nicole.
 I watch as the major food critics approach her table. Rachel Smith reaches her first.
"It's an honor," she says to Nicole. "I'd like to talk to you about a potential book deal. I think we
could create a best-selling cook book together."
Nicole is speechless. She's beaming from ear to ear. Then Francis Ball and Joe March approach
her, showering her with accolades, and I can tell this all feels so surreal to her.
It's as if she's trying to pinch herself, to make sure this isn't just a dream.
I walk to her table and reach my hand out toward her. She takes my hand in hers and I pull her to
her feet. As soon as she's standing, I pull her into my arms, and embrace her in a tight hug.
God, it feels so good to hold her again.
It's been so long without her. Too long. And I never want that to happen again.
I don't think I could be without her.
I look directly into her eyes. "I love you," I say.
"I love you, too," she says, her lips curling into a smile.
There's a new sparkle in her eyes, and I realize that I'm happy. Truly happy. I'm happier than I've
ever been in my life.
You know the feeling you get when you come home and your dog is excited to see you? He's so
excited that his tail is wagging so hard it's knocking things off the coffee table and he's running up to you
and licking you and making all sorts of excited puppy noises and so you pet him and smile and feel
content?
Well, it's like that. The rest of the world dissolves and takes a backseat to Nicole… to my
happiness.
Nicole drags one hand to my cheek, tenderly cupping it. "I have a secret for you too," she says.
"And what's that?"
"I went behind your back and saw your doctor."
"You did what?" I say, looking into her eyes.
Why would she do that? I told her about that in strict confidence. She knows I didn't want to get a
second opinion.
"Before you get mad," she says, "you're an idiot."
"What?"
"You're an idiot because you were worried for nothing," she smiles. "The scans were wrong.
You're not gonna die."
"Well, aren’t you full of surprises," I say.
She brings her lips to mine, and as soon as I taste her sweet lips, an electric current travels down
my spine.
"I want you, Palmer," she says. "I want you… now."
 Nicole


I’ve never been this happy in my entire life.
And I’m more than just happy—I’m also in-love.
For the first time in my life, I’m ready to share everything I have with another person. It doesn’t
matter what—a recipe, my heart, my body… everything I have now belongs to Palmer, as well.
I can’t even hear anyone anymore. The whole place may be completely packed, and everyone may
be cheering for us, but I just don’t care. I’m looking into his deep blue eyes, and everything I care about
seems to live in that gaze of his.
“Let’s get out of here,” he whispers, grabbing my hand and offering me one of his heart-melting
smiles.
“Where to?” I ask him, even though I don’t care about the where; I just want to be alone with him.
“Have you ever ridden a bike before?” he asks me, that devious grin of his on his lips. I shake my
head, biting down on my lip as I remember that roaring bike he drove to my restaurant that one night, but
he doesn’t give me the opportunity to hesitate. “Come,” he tells me.
With his hand on mine, he drags me out of the dining room and into the kitchen.
“Brit, The Pearl on Park is yours for the night,” he tells one of the women in there. He grabs two
helmets and his jacket, all of them sitting on a counter at the end of the room, and then guides me toward a
corridor that leads to a service door. We’re in the building hall now, and we make our way toward the
elevator at the end of it.
He presses the button on the wall, and a fraction of a second later the doors swing open to allow us
in.
“I love you,” I tell him, my heart beating so fast it feels as if it’s about to explode. “I love you so
much.”
“So do I,” he tells me, and then he’s on me. He pushes me back against the elevator door, crushing
his mouth against mine, and I surrender to the most intense kiss of my life. My heart melts as I feel the tip
of his tongue running between the crevice between my lips, and I allow my hands to rest on his waist.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I shouldn’t have doubted –”
“Shh,” he silences me, placing one finger over my lips. “No need for that,” he continues, and that’s
when the doors slide open once more. We walk out into the lobby, and a few seconds later we’re on the
street, the coldness of the night making my skin prickle.
“Here,” he says, handing me his leather jacket. I try to protest, but he just forces me to wear it.
Then, gently, he places one of the helmets over my head.
“Ready?” he asks me, leading the way toward a bike parked around the corner. He swings one leg
over it, and then fishes a key out of his pocket and revs up the engine, its roar cutting through the night.
 Hesitantly, I climb on the back of the bike, and a few moments later we’re already cruising down
the streets, my arms wrapped around his chest.
Right now, I hear nothing but the roar of the engine and the thumping of my own heart. I keep my
arms tight around him, and not because I’m afraid of falling, but because I don’t want to let go.
We drive toward his apartment building, and the moment he parks his bike, it takes us only a few
minutes to get inside his apartment. The moment I hear the door closing behind me, I simply push myself
up against him and go on tiptoes, my lips looking for his.
“I need you,” I tell him, the words tumbling out from my lips like honey and silk.
“Not as much as I need you,” he replies, taking his hands to my shoulders and pushing off the jacket
down my arms. “I need my girl,” he continues, sweeping me off my feet and carrying me toward the couch
in the center of the living room.
I rest my hand on top of his and, looking into his eyes, I realize just how much I need him, really
need him.
I need him now, and when I say now, I mean right now. I slide myself over to him, closing the gap
between us, and I place my hand right on his crotch. In two heartbeats, I feel his cock hardening under my
fingers, straining against the fabric of his pants. Smiling, I curl my fingers around his thick shape and
press hard on it.
“You can’t wait, huh?” He says, smiling, echoing my own thoughts as he places one hand on my
knee and slides it up until it meets the hem of my dress. I shiver softly at his touch, the sting of desire
striking me point blank.
“No, I can’t," I tell him, squeezing his cock more harshly than I probably should. I just can’t help
myself.
“That makes two of us…” He whispers at me, a wicked grin dawning on his lips, “I’m just like
you...” With that, he slides his hand under my dress and only stops when he has his fingers pressed tight
against my pussy. “Impatient.”
I grow wet in a fraction of a second, my thong dampening immediately. Biting on my lower lip, I let
an expression of desire take over my face and lean into him, crushing my mouth against his.
Forcing his tongue past my lips, he pushes it inside of my mouth and runs it in soft gentle circles
around my own. We start slow and tenderly, but our kiss quickly descends into wildness: we start to kiss
as if we are possessed and, really, we are.
We are possessed by lust and love; and above all, we are possessed by happiness.
As we kiss, Palmer presses his hand harder against my pussy and, with a quick flick of his fingers,
he pushes my thong to the side. I pant as I feel his index finger brushing against my pussy lips and, when
he presses it over my clit, I go completely mad and nibble at his bottom lip, pulling it back with my teeth.
Taking one hand to my hair, he yanks on it and, at the same time, slides his finger all the way inside
of my pussy. I press my legs together, trapping his hand in place, and he pushes his finger even deeper
inside of me, his fingertip rubbing against my G-spot.
As he touches me there, the gentle flames of pleasure and desire start raging and raging, turning my
mind into a furnace.
“I’m going to fuck you right here,” he says, hunger in his voice, “I can’t wait. I really can’t,
Nicole.”
“That’s all I need to know,” I say, my voice quivering as he rubs his fingertip against my G-spot.
Flicking his wrist, he starts to move his finger in and out of my pussy, always pushing it all the way in
until it’s touching that sweet hidden spot in my body.
Anxiety rushing through my veins, I start to stroke him over his pants and then, not satisfied with
that, I unbuckle his belt with trembling fingers. Tugging on his pants, I force the zipper to go down and,
moving fast, I slide my hand under his boxer briefs and grab his thick mast.
My skin prickles as I feel his warmness, his shaft pulsing against my fingers, and I start to move my
hand up and down at a furious pace.
Throwing my head back against the headrest, I grit my teeth and hiss furiously, my pussy clenching
around his fingers. He feels me perched on the verge of an orgasm, and so he presses his fingertips tighter
against my G-spot —and just like that, I come undone. I have to clench my teeth in order not to scream, all
the muscles in my body twitching as if I’ve just been shocked.
“God!” I moan in a low tone, opening my eyes and looking at him with anticipation and pleasure
flickering in my eyes.
“Shh,” he whispers, sliding his fingers out of me. “We’re just getting started,” he continues, taking
his fingers to my mouth and brushing them over my lips. Without even knowing what I’m doing, I part my
lips and allow him to slide his fingers inside of my mouth and, as he pulls them back, I suck them dry.
My own flavor and scent hits me at once, coating my tongue and making my head spin.
Moving like a wild animal, I lean into him and, pulling his boxer briefs down, I grab his cock and
point it straight at my mouth. I place my lips against his tip, lapping at it with my tongue, and then push my
mouth down until I feel my lips touching the skin around the base of his cock.
I hold my position there until my lungs are screaming for air, and only then do I move back. As my
lips wrap around his glans once more, I start to bob my head up and down his cock, sucking him as
fiercely as could be humanly possible.
I’m not sucking or blowing him—what I’m doing is devouring him. He likes to say that my pussy is
delicious, but let me tell you this: if there’s anything delicious in this world, it’s his cock. Trust me, I’m a
chef.
And I swear to God, I could suck on Palmer for hours and hours.
I suck on him hard and, if he didn’t grab me by the hair and forced me to stop, I would just keep
going until he came in my mouth. As it is, he pushes my head back—but I simply can’t control myself. If I
can’t have him in my mouth, then I need him in my pussy.
 Moving with cat-like movements, I climb on top of him, spreading my legs and straddling him.
Before he can even react, I grab at his cock and angle it upward; with my other hand, I flick my thong to
the side and push his tip against my wetness.
He holds me by the hips as I try to ease myself down; then, grinning, he only allows me to rub my
pussy with the tip of his cock. He’s torturing me, and is loving every single second of it.
“Please,” I moan, repeating the word over and over again until he finally surrenders to me. Easing
up the pressure on my hips, he allows me to go down and, just like that, I impale myself on his cock, his
shaft sliding easily inside of my pussy.
I start to sway my hips like a mad woman, placing my arms over his shoulders as I ride him. He
places his hands on my ass, hiking my dress up to my waist.
As I keep on rocking my hips, he pushes the string of thong that covers my ass to the side, and starts
to brush one fingertip along my crack. I go even faster, riding as if tomorrow will never come. I tremble
and shiver, my skin prickling as I feel his touch, and a deep moan climbs up my throat.
“Oh, God…” I moan, and his fingers start digging into my ass cheeks. I close my eyes, enjoying the
moment as the movement of my body matches his rhythm, electricity crackling inside my mind.
I’m moaning hard, and I don’t even care if everyone in the building can hear us. I’m no longer that
same Nicole, the one that was always coy and shy around men. The Nicole that didn’t care about dating,
and lived to work. That Nicole has… grown.
“I’m going to… I’m going to…” I start to say, but I don’t even manage to finish my sentence.
Clenching my ass cheeks and gritting my teeth, I feel my pussy tightening around his shaft and I come. I
take my hands to his chest and, completely out of control, I grab at the fabric of his shirt and pull as hard
as I can.
His buttons pop out, and I even feel the fabric tearing under my hands, but I don’t care—all that I
want is to feel is naked skin under the open palm of my hands. Ripping his shirt open, I press my hands on
his firm pectorals and dig my fingernails into it, hard enough to draw blood, and just keep him riding as I
come my brains out.
Instinct taking over me, I summon whatever energy still lives in my body and clench my legs, going
up on the couch and placing my arms over his shoulders.
“Your mouth,” I pant, “I want it.” Knowing what I want, he places his hands on my ass cheeks and
reels me in, placing my pussy against his face. I close my eyes as he jabs his tongue past my drenched
folds, running it up and down, and then focusing on my clit, lapping at it harshly.
“Oh, God. It’s so… fucking good,” I moan loudly, swaying my hips and rubbing my pussy all over
his face. Sucking and licking, he moves one hand around my waist and presses one finger against my
pussy. He moves it in, pushing it all at once and drawing one loud scream out of my lips.
“Fuck, fuck…” I cry out and, the moment he touches my G-spot, I start to convulse as if I’m having
a seizure. I go down, sitting on his lap and my body feels as if it’s on fire. I don’t think I’d feel this hot if I
was standing right in the middle of a raging inferno.
“My turn,” he whispers against my ear, nibbling at my earlobe with his teeth. “I want your pussy
again. But not in my mouth,” he grins at me, and I feel my pussy aching to have him in it again.
With a growl, Palmer takes his hands out of my ass and grabs me by the hips. He pushes me to the
side, throwing me down on the couch, and I lay down. He spreads my legs open and lays on top of me,
grabbing his cock and pressing it against my pussy in one single breath.
With a sigh, I cross my legs around his lower back and lace my arms on his neck, pulling him into
me as the desperation to have his cock completely demolishing my pussy reaches the height of its
intensity.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll forget your name,” he whispers before pressing his mouth
against mine, kissing while he thrusts. My insides burn as his thickness pushes back against my inner
walls, and I grip him hard with my legs around his waist.
He’s fucking me so hard that fireworks are going off behind my shut eyelids, and I already feel
beads of sweat forming on my forehead. He was right about what he said; if he keeps fucking me like this,
I doubt I’ll remember anything at all.
He’s moving so fast that I no longer know when his cock is sliding out or sliding in and, to be
honest, I couldn’t care less about it. All that matters is that I feel every single throb of his cock, the
warmness of his shaft spreading through me and numbing every single one of my senses. Each thrust of his
is like a pure blessing, and I’m already feeling the pressure mounting inside of me.
I open my mouth to tell him not to stop, but all I manage to produce is a weak croak. It doesn’t
matter, though; he’s not thinking of stopping. Instead, he goes even faster, pushing me close to the edge and
then forcing me to jump straight into a pool of pleasure.
“Oh, my, GOD!” I scream out, the sound of it crawling up my throat, clawing at my vocal chords
and then exploding on my mouth like a bomb. My scream turns into a high-pitched scream, the flames of
ecstasy licking at my skin from the inside out.
When my muscles finally stop twitching, Palmer lays one gentle kiss against my cheek and then
whispers into my ear. “I hope you’re not tired already…” He says and, even though I’m already feeling as
spent as I could be, I shake my head.
“More,” I simply say, running my tongue over my lips.
“Are you sure you can take more?” He teases me, pulling his cock out of me. “I won’t hold back.”
“I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me your all,” I tell him, the way the words roll
over my tongue making the adrenaline race through my veins.
“That’s my girl,” he says, grabbing me by the hips again. He sits me up on the couch and then he
lays down, looking at me with an expectant look.
“Come here,” he calls me with a grin. “I’m not done with devouring that pussy of yours.”
Grinning back, I climb on top of him and, placing my knees at the side of his head, I offer him my
pussy.
He cranes his neck and, grabbing me by the hips, presses his mouth against my wetness once more.
I sway my hips back and forth, thrusting against his face as he eats me out, all of his movements pregnant
with a wild and insatiable hunger.
A deep certainty fills me and I can’t help but smile—somehow, I’m sure that when we are finally
old and wrinkled, our joints and muscles a ghost of a time gone by, he’ll be as hungry as he is now.
And that fits me just right, if you ask me. I’ve been missing out for the last two decades; I have
absolutely no intention of going without sex even one single day for the rest of my life.
What can I say? Now that I know how good sex is, there’s no way I can resist it. Plus, Palmer… he
just makes me like this. I mean, I’m sure that he has this effect on pretty much every woman he comes
across, but now he’s mine.
Just mine.
As I grind against his face, he moves his hands back to my navel and allows two fingers to fall over
my clit. Pressing down on it, he starts rubbing it fast, his fingers tracing circles around it.
My body tenses up and relaxes, the orgasm washing over me with an ebb and flow. The tides of
pleasure are lulling my mind, the high waves of this ocean of ecstasy lapping at my body and spending the
few reserves of energy I still have inside of me. But I still want more…
And I want one last showdown before making him fuck me for the last time.
I lift my legs and turn around and, with my ass turned to him, I go on all fours on top of his body. I
reach for his cock and, grabbing it, I point it straight at my mouth and lower my head.
At the same time, he hooks his fingers on my hips and forces me to ease my pussy down on his face.
The moment I feel my wetness against his lips, I start to sway my body at a frantic pace, bobbing my head
at the same rhythm.
We go like this for God knows how long, the whole concept of time becoming completely
meaningless. With his mouth on my pussy, and my mouth on his cock, I can’t really focus on anything else.
And, as he licks my clit with renewed ferocity, I feel my brain on the verge of shutting down.
Still, I manage to remain unconscious, only to have another orgasm explode inside of me, the shock
waves of it rushing through my muscles and forcing me to take his cock out of my mouth.
Coming up for air, I scream as loud as I can.
Breathing so hard that I’m dizzy, I climb out of Palmer’s body and, without waiting to see what he
wants me to do, I go on all fours on the couch. He gets up in a heartbeat, kneeling behind me, and smacks
my ass harshly with the palm of his hand. He does it again and again, and only stops when the pain
becomes so deliciously unbearable that I’m moaning in ecstasy and thrusting back at him.
I have my head bowed down, my hair cascading down my shoulders. And so while I can’t see him,
I can imagine the wicked grin he has on his face as he presses his tip against my pussy.
With one simple thrust, he’s in me again, stretching me as wide as only he can do. I moan and
scream, the sound of it blending into something almost inhuman. My voice caresses my eardrums and then
claws at it, all while a firestorm rages inside of me, threatening to consume everything that I am.
Maybe I’ll die of pleasure now; maybe my final orgasm will be so intense that I’ll stop breathing,
my heart will stop beating, and then my brain will shut down. My soul will float away into the afterlife
and, if all this happens, I’m sure that I’ll be going with a grin on my face. I mean, to go out with Palmer’s
thick cock ravaging me wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, would it?
No… no, it wouldn’t.
When I finally come, there’s no screaming or moaning; I throw my head back against the couch and
just hiss like a rattlesnake, my throat too ruined to carry on. I almost think that Palmer’s done, but when he
pulls his cock out of my pussy he keeps its tip pressed against my inner lips.
Oh, sweet God… I think I’m really going to OD on pleasure.
“Do it… Do it…” I beg him, and he starts to push his cock back inside me. It moves in at a slow
pace, but it goes steadily all the same. Even though my throat has given up on me, I force myself to scream
one more time, the pressure of Palmer’s cock on my insides too good for me to remain in silence.
“Hard… I want it hard,” I continue, and he doesn’t need any further instructions; he starts to thrust
as if his life depended on it, ravaging me like he never did before.
He buries his cock so deep inside me that I have to scream again. At the same time, he slides one
hand around my waist and presses down on my clit with two fingers, immediately stroking it at a furious
and almost too violent pace.
It doesn’t take long for me to come undone — one more thrust of his cock and my mind snaps, my
soul shattering into a thousand little pieces with it.
I thrust back, forcing him to push his cock deep into me, and then I hold that position as a violent
convulsion takes over me. My muscles are burning, my skin is boiling, and both my heart and lungs are
working overtime to keep me alive. It’s a wonder that I still haven’t passed out… I feel exhausted enough
to fall unconscious, but I refuse to do it as pleasure still courses through my veins.
Even though Palmer and I have a lifetime ahead of us, I don’t want to waste one single second of
what I’m experiencing now.
“I want you to come,” I find myself telling him, my brain seemingly having no say about what
words leave my lips. As if my voice has a magical effect on his body, his cock starts to spasm and, half a
heartbeat after that, it throbs violently and I feel the warmness of his seed filling me.
Instead of gushing all his load inside of me, Palmer pulls his cock out and, still on his knees, starts
to stroke himself. I feel his thick ropes of cum cover my lower back, beads of it sprinkling my skin.
By the time he’s done, all I can do is roll around so that I’m lying on my back. I take a few deep
breaths, and then I sit up. He’s sitting up as well, his head thrown back against the couch as he tries to
catch his breath.
Slowly, I run my fingertips down his forearm and take them to his hand. I tangle my fingers on his,
and then lean into him and press my lips on his face.
“I love you,” I whisper again, somehow knowing that I’ll never grow tired of these three words. As
silly as it might sound, I feel like I’m the luckiest woman on Earth.
“I love you too,” he whispers back at me, his fingers tightening around my own. My body grows
cold suddenly, and perhaps feeling it, Palmer reaches for his discarded shirt on the floor and makes me
wear it. He dresses me as one would do to a small child, and I keep my eyes on his as he does it, just
enjoying the delicate way he’s handling me.
For a man capable of such dominance and raw power, I can’t help but be surprised at how kind he
truly is. I can’t believe I used to see him as someone cold and heartless, a total asshole even.
To say that I was wrong doesn’t even begin to describe it.
Standing up, his large shirt covering most of my body, I make my way toward the large windows of
his living room.
“Where are you going?” He asks me, picking his boxer briefs from the floor and getting inside
them. He goes up to his feet and then joins me by the window, his arm laced around my waist.
“The city… it looks so beautiful from up here,” I whisper, not even knowing why I’m saying. At
ground level, from the windows of the Old Tale, the city is nothing but a blend of smog and dirty concrete.
But from up here, there’s a certain magic about it all.
The streets have an orange glow at night, and the tall spires of office and apartment buildings rise
up in the air like Christmas trees. And though I know that no one really sleeps in a big city, right now it
feels so… calm.
It’s almost relaxing.
“It does,” Palmer agrees with me, and then he’s the one brushing his lips against my cheek. “But
only because you’re here with me.”
I look into his eyes, but this time I don’t say anything.
Sometimes, words just get in the way.
Smiling, I go up on tiptoes and kiss him, closing my eyes as I let the memory of this moment be
forever imprinted on my mind.
Love—sometimes it’s even better than what we imagine it to be.
 Hello fabulous readers!
Thanks so much for reading this story. It was an amazing journey, from start to finish. Sometimes
ideas come to you fully formed and you're amazed. Others? Well, they surprise you and you discover them
as you write. What starts as an adventure ends as something unforgettable, and that was the case with this
book. You're reading my discovery of these characters as I discovered them, and I hope you enjoy the
journey as much as I did!
When you write, the characters can become so real and you almost hate to let them go, but I think
that they're safe with you! I hope you enjoy spending time with them as much as I did.
Thanks for being a reader. Authors do this whole telling stories thing for you.