Authors: Naomi Chase
The downtown skyscraper that housed the blue-chip law firm of Chernoff, Dewitt & Strathmore also boasted a four-star restaurant aptly named Stogie’s. Its elegant decor harkened back to the days of gentlemen’s cigar clubs, complete with mahogany-paneled walls, sumptuous leather booths, dim lighting, a fireplace surrounded by plush lounge chairs, and a large bar stocked with an impressive selection of cognacs, bourbons, whiskeys, and scotches. It was a classy establishment, an ideal spot for entertaining clients and decompressing after a long, stressful day.
Every time Brandon ventured into Stogie’s, he felt as if he were entering an exclusive boys’ club, the doors of which would have been closed to him fifty years ago. But he’d earned his membership card by virtue of being a rising star at the firm and belonging to one of Houston’s most prominent political families. Everyone at Stogie’s knew Brandon by name. When-ever he arrived he was greeted ceremoniously, ushered to his favorite corner booth, and presented with his humidor. The VIP treatment made him feel like some don in a Scorsese film.
Unable to concentrate on work that Friday afternoon, he’d grabbed some files and headed downstairs to Stogie’s. But the change of scenery hadn’t helped. Instead of his mind racing
with defenses and strategies, all he could think about was sex. Or rather, the
lack
of sex he’d been getting lately. It had been nineteen days since he and Tamia made love. He knew, because he’d started counting off the days on his calendar like a prisoner marking time.
Tamia had recently landed a major account at work, which required her to put in longer hours at the office. Between her busy schedule and his, they’d become the proverbial ships passing in the night. Brandon didn’t know how much longer he, and his neglected libido, could hold out for some attention.
“How did I know I’d find you here?”
Brandon’s head came up. Cynthia stood at his table, her lips curved in a lazy grin that coaxed an answering one out of him.
“Hey there,” he said warmly.
“Hey yourself.”
“How’d it go in court today?”
She sighed contentedly. “Wonderful. I’ve got those jurors eating out of the palm of my hand.”
Brandon could believe it. She looked beautiful and feminine in a two-piece power suit that flattered her slender figure and showed off a killer pair of calves that he—and every other man at the firm—had probably ogled at one point or another. She’d let her hair down today. The sleek, smooth strands gently caressed her face and shoulders.
“Brandon?”
Hearing the faint amusement in her voice, he realized that he’d been staring at her, completely missing the question she’d asked.
“Sorry.” His expression was sheepish.“What’d you say?”
“I asked if you wanted some company.” She gestured to the files spread across the table.“That is, if you’re ready for a mental break.”
“Absolutely.”
As he gathered his paperwork to make room for her, she peeled off her suit jacket and draped it over the back of the
booth. The ivory blouse she wore was made of crushed silk that looked incredibly soft to the touch. Like her brown skin.
As she sank into the plush leather seat across from him, she laughed.“Why do we do that?”
“Do what?” Brandon felt strangely disoriented.
“Why do we volunteer to give each other ‘mental breaks’? It’s as if I’m saying that a conversation with me will provide no mental stimulation whatsoever.”
Brandon chuckled.“I’ve never thought of it that way.”
“And now you have. See? Thirty seconds into the conversation, and I’ve already made you think.”
They grinned at each other.
When a waiter came over to take Cynthia’s order, she requested the girliest drink imaginable—some sweet, shaken cocktail made with pineapple, raspberry, and a pinch of vodka. “Oooh, and can you ask the bartender to put one of those cute umbrellas in it?” she gushed, batting her eyelashes. “I just
love
those.”
The waiter grimaced.“I’ll see what I can do.”
As he moved off reluctantly, Cynthia winked at Brandon, who burst out laughing.
“And you wonder why women were once banned from the premises,” he told her.
She grinned wickedly.
Stogie’s was the epitome of a man cave, a den of masculinity where testosterone hung over the air as thick and palpable as cigar smoke. While most of the firm’s female attorneys preferred to dine at the trendy, gender-neutral café across the lobby, Cynthia never shied away from Stogie’s. She’d been known to squeeze into a booth with a group of her male colleagues and knock back as many whiskey shots as the rest of them. She’d grown up with four brothers, so being one of the boys was second nature to her.
When her drink arrived, she smiled sweetly and thanked
the waiter. As soon as he’d departed, she plucked the fuchsia umbrella out of her glass and tossed it onto the table in disgust. “I didn’t think they’d actually
have
those.”
Brandon grinned.“Neither did I. I’m shocked.”
After sampling the frothy cocktail, Cynthia made a face and shuddered.“God, that’s sweet. Ugh.”
“What is it anyway?”
She shrugged. “Just something I made up.” She took another sip, grimaced, then eyed the neat scotch Brandon had been nursing.
He chuckled, moving his glass out of reach.“Uh-uh. That’s what you get for playing around.”
She poked her tongue out at him, and he laughed.
After another moment, Cynthia ventured carefully,“We’ve both been so busy over the past week that I haven’t had a chance to apologize for causing an argument between you and Tamia.”
Brandon sipped his drink.“You don’t have to apologize. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Actually, it was. If I hadn’t gone into your office to show you that hilarious deposition transcript, Tamia wouldn’t have walked in on us and gotten the wrong impression.” Her lips curved ruefully. “She thinks I’m trying to seduce you, doesn’t she?”
Brandon smiled grimly.“Something like that.”
Cynthia sighed. “I guess I can’t really blame her for being paranoid. You’re a great catch, Brandon. Rich, smart, successful. Sexy as hell. Any woman would be lucky to have you.” She paused.“Well, maybe not
that
lucky.”
Brandon choked out a laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“Too late, woman. You already put it out there. Now explain what you meant.”
“Well …” She bit her lower lip, looking abashed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Brandon, but you and your parents are a package deal … and I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”
He stared at her.“What are you saying? You got a problem with my parents?”
“No,” she hedged, trying to be tactful.“It’s just that they’re kind of … what’s the word I’m looking for?”
“Bougie?” Brandon offered.
She snapped her fingers.“Yes!”
They looked at each other, then erupted into laughter.
A few minutes later, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes, Brandon grinned and shook his head at Cynthia. “Damn, girl, why you gotta be dissing my folks like that? And after all the nice things they said about you, too.”
She grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, B. I feel really bad about that. And don’t get me wrong. I know they’re wonderful peo-ple. They serve on a bunch of civic and charitable boards, and they do great things for the community. But they’re just so damn
snooty.
No offense.”
“None taken,” Brandon drawled, amused. “Believe me, I know how overbearing my parents can be. I tell them so all the time, but”—he shrugged—“they are who they are.”
“Of course,” Cynthia agreed, fishing the plastic toothpick out of her cocktail glass. A maraschino cherry glistened wetly on the end.“They’re your parents. You have to love them and accept them as they are. But I don’t envy any woman who’s gonna have to gain their stamp of approval before snagging you.”
As Brandon watched her moist lips close around the plump red cherry, his dick went on the rise, and his mind traveled somewhere it shouldn’t have.
Shaken, he grabbed his glass and took a hasty gulp of his drink, grimacing as the scotch burned a path down his throat.
You need to get some pussy, man. Seriously.
“I’m proud of you, Brandon,” Cynthia was saying.
“For what?” he rasped.
“Well, to be perfectly honest, Tamia doesn’t seem like the type of woman your parents would have picked out for you. Right?”
He hesitated, then nodded.“Right.”
“But you’re dating her anyway. And by all indications, you two seem to be getting pretty serious about each other.”
“We are,” Brandon admitted. “But I’m not dating her out of some juvenile attempt to rebel against my parents. Tamia’s really special, and we have a lot more in common than you might think.”
“Good.” Cynthia smiled warmly. “Your happiness is the only thing that matters.”
Brandon nodded slowly, agreeing.
Now if only he and Tamia could resume having sex, all would be right with the world again.
Later that night, he found himself alone in the third bedroom he’d converted into his home study. He’d been in the middle of drafting a motion on behalf of a client when his concentration was derailed by an image of a luscious, dripping cherry nestled between Cynthia’s wet lips.
Cursing under his breath, he swiveled away from his desk and dropped his head into his hands, thinking,
This is crazy!
He was so horny, so starved for sex, that he was lusting after a woman he wasn’t even supposed to be attracted to. And all because he’d called himself an unselfish boyfriend by allowing Tamia to dictate the terms of their sex life. What the hell had possessed him to make such a promise to her? And why did
he
seem to be the only one going out of his fucking mind?
After leaving work, Tamia had arrived at his condo around nine o’clock. They’d ordered Thai and eaten outside on the terrace, sharing a bottle of wine and catching up on each other’s day. It felt so good, like old times again, that Brandon found himself eagerly anticipating a long, steamy night of love-making.
But after dinner, Tamia wanted to cuddle up with a romantic comedy. He’d agreed reluctantly—and with good reason. Halfway through the movie she’d dozed off, her head slumped
onto his chest. He’d scowled and muttered curses at the television while pondering whether to carry her to bed or nudge her awake so she could take herself. He’d decided to wake her up, hoping that somewhere between the living room and his bedroom, she’d get struck by a bolt of lust that would have her racing back to tear off his clothes and screw him senseless.
No such luck. When he’d checked on her five minutes later, she was fast asleep.
And he was no closer to getting laid than he’d been before she arrived.
Suddenly Dre’s words echoed through his mind.
If you need a little somethin’ somethin’ to tide you over …
Brandon lifted his head and glanced toward the open door. The hallway was dark and silent.
He hesitated for a moment, then swiveled around to his desk and reached down to open the bottom drawer. He removed one of the DVDs that Dre had given him and stared at the words written across the plastic cover.
Mystique Slave Chronicles: Pussy Sublime, Volume One.
He smirked, shaking his head at the cheesy title. Still, he couldn’t deny a certain amount of curiosity after the way Dre had raved about the star of the video. He needed
something
to take the edge off his lustful cravings, and since Tamia didn’t seem inclined, there was no harm in him getting his rocks off on some faceless porn star he’d never meet a day in his life.
Brandon stared at the disc, tapped it against his open palm, then eyed the DVD slot drive on his iMac.
This is insane,
he mused. Here he was contemplating whether to satisfy his sexual urges by watching a porn video—and his hot, gorgeous girlfriend was right down the hall.
“Fuck that,” Brandon muttered.
He tossed the DVD back into the desk drawer, kicked the door shut, then shoved to his feet and strode determinedly from the room.
By the time he entered his dark bedroom he’d peeled off
his T-shirt, jeans, and briefs, leaving them strewn along the hallway.
Tamia was sleeping soundly on her back, her breathing deep and even.
Brandon crept stealthily to the king-size bed, raised the edge of the heavy comforter, and slithered beneath the covers. Tamia was so exhausted when she went to bed that she hadn’t even bothered crawling beneath the sheets. She wore one of his oversize T-shirts and no panties.
As Brandon gripped her legs and parted them, she stirred slightly but didn’t awaken. He kissed her smooth thighs, working his way upward to the sweet spot between her thighs. He blew gently on the moist, sultry flesh, and she moaned softly in her sleep.
When he drew her taut clit into his mouth, she let out a shocked cry of pleasure. Her head came off the pillow, and her eyes searched him out in the darkness.
“B-Brandon? What are you—
Ohhh,
” she groaned as he dipped the tip of his tongue inside her, sampling her nectar.
She gripped his head as he licked her pussy from top to bottom, from one side to the other. He reveled in the way she moaned and writhed against him, thighs trembling from the erotic sensations he was giving her.
“Oh shit, baby, I’m com—”As her hips bucked off the bed, he buried his face deeper, swallowing her juices as she came in a hot rush.
Brandon could barely control his eagerness as he roughly flipped her over and pulled her onto all fours, grabbing her hips and positioning himself behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, eyeing him as he rubbed his head against the slick, swollen folds of her pussy.
“I thought you weren’t going to initiate any—”
He plunged into her, cutting her off mid-taunt. She screamed hoarsely and arched her back. He loved the way her
luscious body expanded around his shaft, hugging him tight like a long-lost friend. He slapped her shapely ass, making her cry out with pleasure. He slapped her again, enjoying the way her juicy, supple flesh quivered beneath his hand.