Edible: The Sex Tape (3 page)

S
he looks
uncomfortable when I finish telling the story. She knows every word of it was true and, regardless of what a complete idiot I was after the fact, she clearly seduced me into making that sex tape.

“Birdie, baby, you don’t have to apologize. I’m a grown man. I knew what I was getting myself into.” She raises her eyebrows skeptically. “Look, I know it’s taken me way too long to say these words, but… I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

She’s not going to make this even the slightest bit easy for me. But I’m not stupid. I know she needs to sign me as much as I need to be signed. She used to go on and on about how much she wanted to work for Pringle & Windsor Management in New York City. And if she’s only been here a few months, she definitely needs to prove herself to her idol, Barry Pringle. But… and this is a huge but (forgive the pun, but Bridget deserves this one), she’s notorious for allowing her emotions to get in the way of her career. That’s why she moved in with me in Vegas four years ago instead of sticking with the internship in Los Angeles. She always puts her feelings for me, positive or negative, before her success. Let’s hope she’s learned her lesson.

But, this is also a big but, if she hasn’t learned from her past mistakes, I may need to employ some cock-surance. Cock-surance is a well-timed, mind-blowing fuck, which is meant to insure I get what I want. I’ve used cock-surance on Bridget more times than I can count. It never fails.

“Baby, I’m sorry for cheating on you and, most of all, I’m sorry for blaming you for my mistakes.” I lean forward in my chair, resting my elbows on my knees, I look her deep in the eye. “Cheating on you was the worst mistake I’ve ever made. And… the worst part of being in prison was not hearing your voice.”

She scrunches her eyebrows together, but I can’t tell if she’s angry or on the verge of tears. So I continue.

“I thought of you every day. I wanted to write to you and tell you everything. I wanted to apologize, but you’re right about me. Not even prison could force me to grow up.” I gaze into her eyes for a moment as she begins to tear up. “It was seeing you today that’s made me realize what an idiot I’ve been. Look at what I’ve done to you. You’ve changed your name and your appearance. You don’t deserve that. You deserve the best, Birdie. You deserve someone who’ll never hurt you. Someone who’ll bring you mint chocolate chip ice cream at midnight… with
extra
whipped cream.” She smiles and I gaze at her lips as I continue. “You deserve someone who’ll take care of you and
worship
you… every part of your mind and body… every inch of your skin… every day and every night.”

I drag my gaze away from her succulent lips. She gazes back at me through hooded blue eyes and I know she’s thinking of all the times I worshipped her body. Sex was our religion and I think we earned sainthood with the stuff we did on that sex tape.

I stand from the chair and she holds her breath, her eyes wide as she watches me round the desk toward her. Leaning over, I take her face in my hands and kiss her tenderly. The way she liked me to kiss her after a fight, right before the makeup sex.

“Max?” she whispers against my lips.

“What, baby?” I reply as I lightly trace my fingers over the shell of her ear.

She looks up into my eyes, her face wrought with confusion. She knows she shouldn’t be doing this, but she probably hasn’t been properly fucked in twenty-two months. That’s a long time to go without Max Milan. She’s twitching for a fix.

“We have to be very quiet,” she whispers.

I smile as I thread my fingers through her new dark hair and give it a slight tug. Her eyes widen with excitement as I pull her up out of her seat by her hair. Then I kiss her hard.

She whimpers softly as my tongue strokes hers. Keeping my right hand tangled tightly in her hair, my left hand slides beneath her creamy silk blouse. I massage her breast as I suck on her lip and she moans. She tries to reach for my belt, but I turn her around and bend her over the desk.

“You know how much I’ve missed this?”

I crush my pelvis against her ass so she can feel the erection in my jeans.

“Your obsession with my ass survived prison?” she replies with a chuckle.

I reach forward, grabbing a large chunk of her hair, and yank her head back so my lips are next to her ear. “I’ve told you before, you should be an ass model.”

I pull up her skirt with my free hand. She helps me by slipping out of her white lacy panties and tossing them backwards over both of our heads.

“I’m not helping you look for those later.”

“Shut up!” she shrieks, though she can’t help but laugh.

Bridget was notorious for losing everything from keys to shoes to underwear. She once lost a pair of panties in a strip club when she got it in her head that she could give me a better lap dance than a stripper.

Now that I think about it, why the hell did I ever cheat on her? I really
was
an idiot.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” I growl in her ear.

Unbuttoning my jeans, I push them down with my boxers. My cock makes contact with her perfectly smooth ass and just that small touch drives me wild.

“Are you still on the pill, baby?” I ask, rubbing the tip of my cock against her wet opening.

“Shit,” she whispers. “No, I’m not.”

“What? Why not?” I shriek, my dick beginning to soften.

“I… I haven’t been with anyone else, okay?”

And up he goes again. She’s still mine.

“That’s okay, Birdie.”

I kiss her neck and trace my tongue inside her ear as I slide the tip of my cock through her wetness, then I drag it upward. I enter her ass slowly, just a fraction of an inch deeper with each stroke, but she still has to bite down on the strap of her purse to keep from screaming. Her asshole is practically re-virginized after two years of no Max Milan.

I stand up so I can watch as my dick slides into her. I’ve got it about halfway in when she cries out.

“Are you okay?” I ask and she nods as she lets out a low grunt.

I smile as I realize she’s close to orgasm.

I smack her ass and she laughs. “Don’t stop, Max.”

Grabbing her by her tiny waist, I rock my hips back and forth, savoring the heavenly friction as her muscles contract around my cock. I’m really fucking glad I knocked one off in the hotel room this morning, or I’d have blown my load the second I saw her ass. I reach around her hip and between her legs to stroke her clit. She was already on the verge of an orgasm, so it doesn’t take long for her sex-deprived body to yield to me. She writhes and almost kicks me when she comes. Finally, I let go and lie down on top of her to catch my breath, my dick still twitching inside her.

“Birdie? Do you want me to call you Elara?”

She moves a little and I slide out of her so we can both stand. “You can call me Birdie or Bridget. The only people who call me Elara are the people in this office.”

She begins to pull down her skirt, but I stop her and slide my hand between her legs. Her pussy is waxed just the way I like it, with a small triangle of hair above the slit.

“You knew I was coming today?”

“Of course I did. This is never going to happen again and no one can know about this.” I pull my hand out from between her thighs as a knock comes at the door. “Get over there!” she whispers urgently, pointing at the guest chair where I was sitting earlier.

I smile and shake my head as I realize we both played each other. She probably lied when she said she hadn’t been with anyone since I went to jail. We both take our seats and she smooths her hair down.

“Print up the contract, Birdie, and no one will ever know.”

“Come in!” she calls out as she types something on her keyboard and the sound of the printer firing up is like music to my ears.

The door swings inward just a few inches and the receptionist juts her head in. “Um… I’ve been trying to call you for the past ten minutes. Your mom is on line one.”

The receptionist’s eyes keep falling to the floor as if she’s too embarrassed to look up. She must smell the sex in the air.

“Tell her I’ll call her back,” Bridget replies as she continues to send more documents to the printer.

The receptionist looks up, meeting my gaze, she smiles a little and nods as she closes the office door. I turn around and I immediately see the cause of the receptionist’s shyness. Bridget’s panties are hanging from the spine of a book on a shelf behind her. I press my lips together to try to keep from laughing, but when she looks up from her computer all clueless and flushed, I can’t hold it in.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” I chuckle.

“Are you making fun of me?” I stand up from my chair and round the desk until I’m standing next to her. “I told you we’re never having sex again and I meant it!”

I smile as I reach behind her and lift the panties off the bookcase. “You’ve always had interesting taste in decor, Birdie.”

She snatches the panties off my finger and stuffs them inside her purse. “Did she see those?”

“Yes, she did. And judging by the conversation I had with her earlier, she’s a saucy little minx. She’s seen the sex tape and she wants a piece of me. You’re going to have to do some damage control to get her to keep quiet. But I’m sure it’s nothing a new multi-million dollar client won’t fix.”

She glares at me as she reaches under her desk to retrieve the contract she just printed. Slamming it down on the surface of the desk, she reaches for a pen and holds it out for me to sign. I stare at the pen and, for a moment, I consider putting her out of her misery and just signing the damn thing. But I have a strong feeling she set up this whole meeting today knowing she was going to seduce me into signing. Just the way she seduced me into recording that damn video.

I lean over and press my lips to her ear. “Bring the contract to the Four Seasons on the upper east side.”

“I know where the Four Seasons is.”

“Good. And bring your giant makeup case. We have a sequel to shoot.” I lay a soft kiss on her cheekbone then head for the door. “And bring your A-game, Birdie. This is going to be even better than the first one.”

T
hank you for reading
Edible
: The Sex Tape
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