“Why? Have you been diagnosed with some form of reading disabilities?”
“No, I haven’t. I always got the best grades back in the school. Then again the teachers
were easy on me because of Michael. So, maybe I indeed have a physical problem, but
it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“How can you say that? Reading is the most important skill you can learn.”
I shrug and rest my back against the chair, spreading my knees wide apart. “It physically
hurts my brain when I have to read.”
“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I don’t easily get offended. And, you can’t offend me even if you try.” I reach up
to caress her cheek, drop my hand on hers, and lace my fingers through hers.
She looks down at our entwined hands with a faint smile on her face. “You can’t read
well but you’re clever enough to build a million-dollar business. That’s admirable.
How did you do it?”
“Like every other business. By starting small.”
Staring up at me, she knits her eyebrows together. “Explain.”
I laugh. She’s the definition of inquisitive. “You know. We went to clubs and hunted
down horny, rich cougars, and asked for money in return for our favors.”
Her jaw drops, her eyes growing large with shock, and she yanks her hand away from
mine. “You worked as a prostitute and picked up clients at clubs?”
“What’s the difference between what I do now and what I did back then? Both involve
sex in exchange for money. Why does it matter that now I get to do it in a fancy building
that I own?”
“I guess nothing,” she says, defeated. But, I know what really worries her.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t do it. The two times I tried it, I mean having sex with a lady
in exchange for money, I couldn’t get hard.”
She shakes her head, smiling, perhaps not believing the truthfulness of my confession.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. When I looked at their eyes, I saw loneliness and sadness. They reminded
me too much of Irene, my adopted mother. She always had the same expression in her
eyes. I simply couldn’t do it.”
“I heard she died of cancer,” she says.
“That’s a lie Michael spread to gain more sympathy from the public. Irene didn’t have
cancer. She committed suicide.”
“Oh.” She remains quiet, except for her audible breathing, although her face looks
like dozens of questions are trapped behind her lips. It’s a sore topic. The last
years of Mom’s life and how she left Chloe, Zane, and I alone in the hands of a monster.
“You need to decorate here with flowers,” she says. I smile, relieved by the change
of the conversation.
“Maybe someday ... if I can find a worthy lady to take care of them.”
She snorts, holding my gaze, and lifts her hand to rest it on my thigh. I try very
hard not to flinch from her touch so close to my privates. My pulse quickens in an
instant. “You don’t need to wait that long. Just hire a housekeeper.”
She leaves her hand there, drawing the infinity symbol over and over with her index
finger on my jeans. The warmth of her palm sends pleasant jolts across my body. She’s
with me, alone in my apartment. No one can stop us from spending the day fucking each
other. No one except her.
Having her so close to me is a burden to my senses. She smells of roses, not the scentless
ones sold in supermarkets but the real ones that grow in the garden. I fill my lungs
with her fresh and fragrant scent. Her skin is glowing under the sunlight. She’s so
easy on the eyes, sweet, yet sensual. The desire to kiss every corner and contour
of her body hits me suddenly. The image of having her naked on my bed, waiting and
begging for me to please her, makes my cock stiffen and pulsate beneath my jeans.
And the fact that her small, warm hand is so close to it...
Why is she so goddamn unbending about doing the right thing? Why can’t she just unzip
my pants and take my throbbing member into her hands, into her mouth? My chest tightens
at the realization that I can’t have her today and only god knows when I can feel
her naked skin against mine.
I’m too tense from having to keep my hands off of her, and with every passing minute,
my erection is bordering on painful. If I don’t do something about it, I’ll lose control
and take her under me here, out in the open, and she won’t have a chance to say no.
I gently grab her hand and lift it, very cautious not to let her presence get into
me more than it already has.
“I’ll be back,” I say and stand. In the last second, though, I lean down to steal
a brief kiss from her lips. She doesn’t stop me, but doesn’t kiss me back either.
She’s hesitant and maybe a little scared. I don’t know, but pushing her won’t do it
for me.
With the taste of her lips in my mouth, I hasten to the bathroom and close the door
behind me. I quickly unbutton and unzip my jeans. My erection springs out of my boxers
with pre-cum already leaking. I palm it, feeling it getting bigger in my hand and
start rubbing it up and down roughly, imagining it’s Lindsay’s hand squeezing it.
She’d lick her lips seductively, hinting at her dirty plans for me. Maybe she’d move
down, slowly kissing her way on my chest down to my hips, settling on her knees in
front of me. She’d tease me endlessly, kissing my shaft and balls for a long time
before finally taking me into her mouth. I’d have to fight the urge to come all too
quickly.
I stroke myself harder and faster as my mind trails off to the memories of the previous
afternoon I had with her; how her body arched and tensed with the pleasure I gave
her, and her inside muscles pulsated as I pumped deep into her. How she surrendered
to me completely and gave me a piece of herself.
I’ve known her for only a few weeks now, yet in that little time she managed to occupy
my thoughts and infiltrate them so much so that I can’t pay attention to anything
else. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she held me spellbound with some dark
and dangerous love potion.
Collapsing on the wall behind me, I clamp my eyes shut, picturing Lindsay lying naked
on my bed, her legs pulled up together at her knees. I’d spread them wide apart and
watch her squirm as I enter her.
I hear the door unlatch and snap my eyes open. Lindsay is standing, shocked, at the
doorway.
“Busted. I knew you were hiding here to do it,” she says, holding the doorknob, staring
at my hand rubbing myself.
I turn, leaning on my shoulder, to give her a better view of what I’m doing, what
she’s actually here to see. “Yet you didn’t shy away from showing up.”
She can’t give me a reasonable explanation for why she decided to catch me red-handed,
besides the obvious one. I push my hips forward, stroking myself with a leisurely
speed now, for her to enjoy the show.
She has one foot in the bathroom and the other one on the other side of the doorway
as if ready to flee, but she doesn’t move. She’s paralyzed, looking uncertain of what
to do, maybe trying to convince herself to get the fuck out of my apartment. Her logic
must be screaming at her to run, reminding her of the contract she signed with Michael.
But something keeps her here and keeps her eyes glued to the slow movements of my
hand. I feel triumphant at every additional second she chooses to stay with me, and
that I have that effect on her.
“Come here,” I say. She doesn’t follow my wish and instead smirks at me. Expecting
otherwise would be just foolish. Her body, however, tells a different story. Her chest
is moving up and down with short breaths. She rolls her lips together and then bites
the lower one.
I push my jeans down, sliding out of them, and walk toward her with slow steady moves,
my hand still rubbing myself. She keeps standing unmoved, except for her eyes that
are skimming me up and down in panic.
“Unbutton your shirt,” I ask with a softer tone. She looks up at my face, almost begging
with her eyes to not take it any farther. She must have realized her foolish mistake
by now, but can’t find it in herself to put a stop to it. That’s why she’s throwing
me the ball to end it. Only, I have no will whatsoever to do anything but take it
to the next level. “I said unbutton your shirt. If you don’t do it nicely, I’ll rip
it apart.”
“Oh, god,” she whispers almost inaudibly but breathes loudly between her parted lips.
I halt two feet from her to stifle the urge to push myself down on her face and capture
her mouth.
“Now,” I say softly again, but she startles as if I yelled at her.
“I... I shouldn’t... We shouldn’t,” she mumbles.
I smile, taking courage from having her still with me, despite her pretended unwillingness.
She’s fighting an internal struggle, and I’ll make it easy for her. I take the last
step and stand right in front of her. Our bodies are within brushing distance. Slowly,
I lift my hand, find the last button of her shirt above her navel, and unbutton it.
Her eyes close. Her chest stops moving.
My fingers crawl up and reach for the next button. I lean down, inhaling her scent,
letting it intoxicate my already stoned mind, and whisper in her ear, “Nobody will
know it. I’m the same man you made love to yesterday. Nothing changed. I’m no more
inclined to reveal your secret with Michael now than yesterday.”
She sighs. I caress her soft skin with my thumbs just before I undo the third button
right below her bra. Her nipples tighten beneath her shirt. I notice her hands form
fists at either side of her body.
“You know Michael’s demands are baseless,” I continue. “You only promised him that
you won’t do anything that will risk others knowing about his secret. Nothing more.
This won’t put him at risk. I haven’t talked about his homosexuality to anyone for
the last twenty five years. I won’t start spreading it now.”
“Please,” she murmurs.
Please, what? Please, take me now? Please, let me go?
She opens her eyes and stares up at me with a tender look that I see for the first
time on her face. No more frowning brows, fiery eyes or tightly pursed lips that are
guarding her true self, but only a childlike, mellow, and vulnerable expression softening
her beautiful features. I’m taken aback for a moment. My mind is running wild trying
to absorb the unmasked emotions glowing on her face. A truly untouched beauty mixed
with fragility and guilt. Why?
A powerful feeling of protection rushes over me and clenches my gut agonizingly, when
the possibility of Lindsay being crushed and abused at Michael’s hands floods my mind.
“It’s not wrong.” I unbutton the last button, pull down the red bra covering her breasts,
and run my hands on her erect nipples. “You come to my home, knowing you’ll be alone
with me, and then walk into my bathroom, knowing what I’m doing in here. You’re wearing
this goddamn sexy lingerie. You can’t tell me you don’t want me.”
She averts her eyes in shame. I squeeze her breasts and push her against the wall,
leaning down toward her face. My lips trace a path on her face, brushing every inch
of her forehead, down to her cheeks, and stop at her mouth. “I want you, Lindsay.
I haven’t wanted any woman in my life like I want you. I don’t care if it’s against
some arbitrary contract or the federal constitution. I just want you. Please, let
me love you. Give me a chance to show you how much I crave you.”
At last, she gives in and wraps her arms around me. Her lips crash into mine with
urgency, and she kisses me possessively. I push her shirt off her shoulders, then
her bra. She angles her body to mine, pressing her breasts against me. I quickly take
off my t-shirt, tossing it aside, and feel her soft skin against mine. She squirms
when our lips find each other again and our tongues fight for dominance.
Her jeans and panties are the next, and soon she’s fully naked before me, just like
me. I don’t have any patience left in me. I must have her now. I consider the various
ways I can take her. In my bedroom, in the living room, on the couch, or on the floor.
Her back against the wall and her legs around my hips will give me the pleasure of
seeing her face while I fuck her. She can watch herself being fucked if I take her
from behind against the sink in front of the vanity mirror. But my cock only demands
to be inside her, the deeper the better.
I release her lips and pull my head up enough to keep myself from kissing her back
again. “Bend down and hold your ankles.”
Without needing to ask me anything for a clarification or an explanation, she flips
around, spreads her legs, and crouches down, forming a perfect upside-down V shape
with her legs in front of me. My cock goes impossibly stiff with desire at the sight
of her spread cheeks and wet pussy all exposed. She pushes her ass up against me and
tilts her head to the side to glance up at my face. She’s impatient, and I reward
her for her hunger with slowly easing into her. She’s so wet and ready for it; her
sex pulls me in without any effort from me to thrust.
We both groan when I hit balls-deep into her. I hold her hips to keep her in place
as I slide in and out of her. Her gasps and moans echo in the four walls of the bathroom.
The louder she gets, the harder I thrust. At one point, she loses her balance and
her hands land on the floor, her ass still up against my groin. I slip my hands around
her belly and lift her hips until her feet aren’t touching the ground, while I continue
driving into her with steady strokes.
She inhales loud, shaky breaths. Her body is light and soft, a toy for me to play
with. Her legs move up and wrap around my waist. Fuck it if this isn’t the strangest
position I’ve ever had sex in. I’m standing straight, she upside down, facing the
floor, her legs tight around my waist, and we’re connected in the most arousing way.
There’s a constant moan coming from her throat accompanied by my name every now and
then. I thrust her harder each time “Ace” rolls out of her lovely mouth.
Too soon, I find myself fighting against an imminent release, and I’m not even sure
if she’s coming or anything close to it.
She circles her hips, rubbing her clit against my balls. I slow down to let her do
whatever she needs to find her own release.