The Seduction (5 page)

Where are you going, gorgeous?

I watch her head across the street to the
wide-open entrance of the LA County Museum of Art.

Seriously? It’s a Friday night, and this
girl wants to wander around looking at squiggles and piles of
rock?

Anyone else, I would quit right now and go
find some easy suck at the bar, but I remember that flush on her
cheeks when I talked about lapping her cunt and the dazed look in
her eyes.

She’ll flush like that when I’m screwing her
hard against the bathroom sink, watching her come her brains out in
the mirror as I pound into her dripping wet channel.

Dammit.

I head inside after her. She wanders the
main galleries, looking at exhibits, then takes a seat on a bench
in front of this one painting. It’s abstract, huge slashes of
color, but the way Keely is gazing at it, you’d think she was
looking at God.

I want her to look up at me like that --
with my cock shoved deep in her mouth.

“Hey.” I slide onto the bench next to her,
enjoying the way she gasps, almost jumping right out of her
seat.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” I lean closer. “You owe
me dinner.”

She turns back to the painting across from
us, her eyes fixating on a slice of red running through its center.
“I said no.”

“Why?” I counter, trailing a fingertip down
the side of her throat. She shivers under my touch, her breathing
getting shallow. “I can tell you want me. So why keep pushing me
away?”

“You’re a client.” She tears her eyes away
from the art to glare at me, scooting away from me on the bench.
“It would be wrong.”

“You’ve got a lot to learn, Keely.” I inch
closer on the bench. “The things we think are wrong? They’re the
ones that feel so goddamn right.”

“Please. You’re so sure I want you.” She
shakes her head again, looking back at the painting, the plaque
next to it—anywhere but at me. “I can’t.”

Can’t
.

That’s when I know I’ve got her. Not
‘won’t.’ Not ‘isn’t going to happen.’

She’s hot for me, she wants my cock just as
much as the rest of them. The only thing standing between me and
this sweet pussy is whatever bullshit voice of reason is shouting
me down in her mind.

So I just have to make it stop. Stun her
with lust and danger so she doesn’t have time to listen.

I glance around. The gallery room is almost
empty, just a few people checking out the exhibit at the other end
of the hall and an older couple nearby.

“Have you ever had sex before?” I ask
casually.

“What?” Her eyes flash in shock.

“You heard me.” I straddle the bench,
watching her body tense. “I’m just wondering why you’re acting like
a scared school-girl every time I talk about fucking you. Hey,
there’s no shame in it,” I add. “I love teaching virgins.”

Her cheeks flush, looking angry. “I’m not a
virgin,” she mutters. “I’ve seen a man’s penis before, thank you
very much.”

I give a lazy laugh. “This isn’t an anatomy
class. You can say cock. Not that flaccid thing your high-school
boyfriend slipped inside you for ten seconds in the backseat of his
daddy’s Camaro. Not the tiny dick your ex jackhammered away at you
with, that you could barely even feel for shit. I’m talking about a
real man’s cock. Hard. Big. A fucking animal.”

I lean closer, seeing her breath catch. Her
pupils dilate with desire. “You want it, don’t you?” I whisper. “To
know what that feels like. When it hurts to take all the way but
you just can’t help it because it feels so damn good.”

She stares at me. Her lips moisten. Damn, I
could use those around my dick right now.

“You’re making pretty bold promises,” Keely
says with an edge in her voice. “I bet you’re all talk and no
trouser.”

I laugh. “I’ll make you come your fucking
brains out. You’ll be on your knees, begging for the chance to suck
me off.”

“I don’t believe you.” She meets my eyes in
a brazen stare. Damn, this girl’s got more guts than I thought.

“Try me.” I get up off the bench.

“What?”

“Bathroom. Now.”

She scoffs. “Stop dicking around.”

“You questioned my manhood. The least you
can do now is let me prove you wrong.”

I see the struggle clear on her face: the
war between curiosity and good girl bullshit manners. It’s same
fight I see every woman go through, just because society decided
getting off for the sake of pure pleasure is some kind of crime.
Fuck, I could murder the guys who figured that one out, probably
some frustrated pussies who couldn’t get laid and wanted the rest
of us to suffer right along with them.

Keely goes back and forth, her indecision
clear on her face. Finally she looks me straight in the eyes.
“Let’s go.”

I see the challenge in her stare. She thinks
she’s won by calling my bluff, but we’ll see who comes out on
top.

“I’m insane,” she mutters to herself, rising
to her feet.

“Wait thirty seconds,” I instruct her.
“Don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea about you.” I wink,
leaving her blushing as I saunter to the single restroom at the
back of the hall. A few seconds later, there’s a knock on the
door.

Keely peeks her head around, then quickly
darts inside, locking the door tight behind her. “I can’t believe
I’m doing this,” she says, cheeks red. “But just a look, I’m not
hooking up with you. This is a strictly business relationship.”

“Sure thing.” I reach for my belt buckle,
then unzip my fly. I’m commando under my jeans, and as I yank them
over my thighs, I hear a gasp slip from those luscious lips.

Ladies, meet your wildest fantasy.

Some people say, size doesn’t matter. Those
fucking pussies don’t know shit. Because even just a glimpse of
what I’m packing makes Keely shiver with lust.

“Satisfied?” I ask with a grin. She’s
staring at it, wide-eyed, her breath coming fast. Damn. I feel
myself start to get hard, and I give myself a couple of tugs,
swelling even larger under my hand.

She takes a couple of steps closer. “I’ve
never seen...” she swallows. “How do you even...?”

“Fit?” I finish, still lazily jerking
myself. “Believe me, honey, once I’ve warmed you up right, you’ll
be ready.”

“Can I...” she reaches hesitantly, her eyes
already dilated with curiosity and desire.

“Be my guest.”

Her fingers close around me, soft. Her
breath catches. “I can hardly hold you,” she murmurs.

“That’s called girth,” I tell her, watching
the way her cheeks flush. She strokes me, whisper-soft, and I
stifle a groan. “Harder, baby, I won’t break.”

She sucks in a breath, and squeezes tighter.
Her eyes never leave my dick as she slowly pumps her fist up and
down. “Yeah,” I grunt. “Like that.”

Bolder, Keely brings her other hand in,
stoking over my tip as she pumps from the base. My cock is all
woken up now, straining under her touch, veins bulging thick along
my stem. Her delicate fists work up and down, sliding along the
length of me, wet with pre-cum.

I sink back against the wall. “Fuck, that
feels good.”

She looks up with a devilish smile. “It
does?”

One hand dips beneath my legs, cupping my
balls in a soft squeeze, and then reaching further, stroking my
taint.

“Fuck!” I exclaim in surprise, feeling my
cock leap to attention. “Do that again.”

Instead, Keely pulls her hand away. I look
over in frustration. She’s still pumping me one-handed, a torturous
rhythm that’s driving me out of my damn mind. With a wicked grin,
she slips her free hand down the front of her skirt, under her
panties.

What the fuck?

She gasps, touching herself as she jerks me
off. I can’t believe it, she looks so fucking innocent. I let out a
groan, crazy with lust, and then Keely pulls her hand out again,
wet with her juices, and slides it up and down my dick in a
slippery vice grip.

Fuck.

I’m losing it here, the pressure of her hand
and the warm, wet drip of her juices. Dammit, I want to taste her,
so I grab her wrist away and bring her fingers to my lips, sucking
hard.

She lets out a whimper. Her eyes are bright
with desire, she’s panting right along with me. She pumps hard,
circling my head with her thumb, playing with the ridge of my cock.
Damn, she’s good. I growl, thrusting up against her hand, desperate
for release. What I wouldn’t give to be inside her right now,
fucking her cunt, her asshole, her lips.

The door handle jiggles. “Oh, I’m sorry,” a
voice comes from outside.

Keely freezes in shock.

“Don’t stop,” I growl, forcing her face back
to mine. “Harder.”

She flicks her eyes nervously to the door,
but she obeys, closing her fist around me, pumping fast. I feel it
rise, fuck yeah, a goddamn tsunami.

There’s another knock. “Excuse me, will you
be much longer?”

“Just wait a goddamn minute!” I roar. I
could come right now, shove her down on her knees and plunge my
cock in her mouth, spurting my seed down her throat, but something
stops me.

I want to make her feel this too. I need to
make this girl come.

Shove her back against the wall, I yank up
her skirt up and push her panties aside, plunging two fingers deep
inside her wet pussy. She lets out a cry of shock and pleasure as I
sweep my thumb hard across her clit and she breaks, shuddering
around me as my world implodes and I come and come and come,
spurting my juices into her eager hands.

I catch my breath. She stumbles back. “I
said... I said I wasn’t hooking up with you,” she gasps.

“Plans change.”

“But--” Her perfect lips open in another
goddamn complaint, so I fill it with my fingers instead, still
dripping with her slick juice.

“You came. Is that a problem?”

She blinks, slowly opening her mouth again.
I wait for a whine, but instead, her lips curl in a delighted
grin.

“I’ve never orgasmed with a man before. With
someone else, I mean.”

I yank my jean back up and rinse my hands.
“If you’re still standing, and able to string two words together,
that wasn’t an orgasm.”

She frowns. “What was it then?”

“A rehearsal.”

NINE

KEELY

You’re insane. You don’t even know him and
you’re hooking up in the bathroom?

The minute my orgasm fades away, and I
realize what I’ve just done, I bolt from the museum bathroom and I
don’t look back.

Slut
.

Humiliation crashes through me as I race
blindly down the sidewalk, so fierce I want to die. How could I
lose my mind so completely? One minute, I’m sitting in the gallery,
doing my best to stay cool under his teasing stare, and the
next...

You’re up against the wall, close to the
edge just from the feel of him, so hard and massive in your
hands.

Oh God! Just thinking the words in my head
make me want to hide away in shame. What was I thinking, letting a
man talk to me like that -- touch me like that? A stranger. A
client!

I drive home in a sick nauseous panic. What
if he tells my boss what we did? I’ll be fired for sure.

I don’t know how it even
happened. I was trying to keep things professional, but there he
was, trying to provoke me, saying more of those shocking,
sexy
things that I should
have hated but really made my thighs clench with lust.

So I called his bluff.

I thought it was the only way to make him
quit. I should have known a man like him, so sexy and dangerous,
would have the goods to back it up.

And boy, he’s got the goods.

Even the memory of his fingers inside me
makes my breath catch. And he had to be eight, nine inches, easy --
as big as the dildo my friend Helen got at her bachelorette party
last year. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before: thick and
hard, his bulbous tip straining, the vein bulging down the length
of him. Back then, we all giggled and joked that men like that
didn’t exist.

But he does.

I couldn’t help myself, just the sight of it
made my body tremble with desire. It was like some deep feminine
instinct took over, blocking all rational thought from my mind. I
had to touch him, know what it was like. And once my fingers were
wrapped around him, I couldn’t stop.

Watching the desire on his face as I touched
him. He is so sure about everything, I had to show him what I could
do. Push him to the edge and see him lose control.

God, I loved it. The power.

I’ve never done anything so reckless and
sexy in my life, and even now, the memory feels like it happened to
someone else. An impostor. An out of body experience. Some other
girl, hijacking my body and making me do the naughty things I’ve
only ever read about in books that I hide on my Kindle at
night.

And then when Vaughn touched me...?

The way he worked with my body, the things
he did with his fingers... It was the most mind-blowing, intense
orgasm of my life.

I’m losing my mind.

It’s Friday, so thankfully I don’t have to
face everyone at work for the next two days. I stay home, busily
doing all the chores I’ve been avoiding as a punishment for my
behavior. I clean the oven and scrub the bathroom floor, do a
million loads of laundry, and cook a month’s worth of nutritious
meals to freeze in tupperware so I don’t wind up eating junk-food
takeout for dinner again. And all the while, I block out every
thought of Vaughn and what happened in that museum bathroom.

It was madness. It was a crazy mistake.
It’ll never, ever, happen again.

By Monday morning the knot in my stomach has
turned into a giant black hole, swallowing me up in shame and
guilt. I drive to work feeling like I’m going to my own execution:
my palms sweating as I step into the elevator and hit the
floor.