Cleo opened her eyes but she couldn’t see anything; her vision was completely obscured by tears. The blurry vision of this ridiculously calm man falling apart above her, inside her, made her feel powerful in ways an elaborate heist never had. Cleo dug her nails into the back of his thighs, encouraging him to fuck her harder.
Soon enough he was jackhammering into her mouth bent nearly in half. The faster he fucked her, the more she drooled around his dick and onto her breasts, which only encouraged her to fuck her mouth more insistently. Eventually, his strokes began to falter and his body was wracked with spasms. Cleo’s nails were digging into the back of his legs and her tongue was massaging the underside of his dick until finally he emptied inside her waiting mouth. She swallowed him deeper as he came, gulping his release down her throat greedily.
“Fuck, Cleo,” he hissed. “Fuck.”
When his dick stopped twitching, she pushed at his thighs. He took two shaky steps backward and his dick fell from her mouth. She looked up at where she thought his face was, her mouth open so he could see the reservoir of the last of his come inside her mouth, and then she pressed her lips shut and swallowed every drop.
“Fuckfuckfuck, Cleo,” he said, pulling her to her feet and throwing her onto the bed.
When Cleo giggled this time, it was real.
four
Robert Shimizu had never been particularly interested in casual sex, but he wasn’t necessarily a relationship man either. He often went months — sometimes upwards of a year — without sex, and he never thought twice about it. When his physical urges reached a breaking point, he had no problem finding someone to help him sate his appetites; a single night working off all that pent-up sexual energy was enough for him to reset his focus and get back to work. And the minute he’d seen Cleo slide her perfectly rounded hip on the arm of Frank Pugh’s chair, he’d known that she was the woman he wanted to help him break his current spell of celibacy and he’d immediately begun working on how to get her off of Frank’s chair and into his lap.
What he hadn’t been able to guess was how absolutely perfect her body would feel against his skin. How addicting her fingers would taste in his mouth, covered in her the taste of her pussy. And he certainly hadn’t been prepared for that persistent niggling thought in the back of his head, whispering softly that one night wouldn’t be enough.
And now, seeing her face down, ass up on his bed was overwhelming in its rightness and it made his dick twitch between his legs, trying to rally far too soon after shooting a bucket of come down her throat. It wasn’t happening, but he knew just how to buy himself time. He pushed her knees apart and then practically shoved his face between her legs, licking her essence from her inner thighs, cleaning up every drop of her arousal. He flattened his tongue against her skin, making sure he didn’t miss a drop of her.
When he was certain that he’d cleaned her up well, he moved his hands to the globes of her ass, still slightly warm from his earlier spanking. He used his thumbs to pull the lips of her cunt open. His mouth practically watered at the thought of tasting her at the source. Her wet lips clung together, enticing him, but he forced himself to wait so he could admire every inch of her. Robert wanted to sear the look and taste and smell of Just Cleo into his brain. He wanted to be able to call her to mind, in a month or in five years, and sink back into the memory of this moment. He wanted to remember her and he’d never had that feeling before.
The shocking bright pink of her pussy hiding between her brown lips called to him and finally he was too overcome to ignore it. When he flattened his tongue against her opening, she practically bucked back against his face. She tasted as perfect as she had in the car, maybe even better after so many orgasms. That intrusive thought emerged again, louder this time, chanting that this wouldn’t be enough; he might never get enough. He ignored it as best he could, but he also a silent promise as his tongue pushed into her, that there was so much more to come.
She screamed filthy curses, muffled by his sheets, groaning about how desperate she was to finally feel his dick inside her. To stop fucking with her. To fuck with her some more. To fuck her now. She screamed louder and louder and Robert loved it. He wanted more.
When she came on his tongue, he felt… Robert felt. He’d never been stingy about making sure that his partners were satisfied – he fed off of their energy as much as his own – but there was something different about Cleo. Each time she came, Robert didn’t feel satisfaction, he felt a deep hunger for more — more of her moans and shivering body and shaking thighs, that burrowed deeper into his gut. This was a completely brand new sensation and he didn’t know what to do with it.
But he did know what to do with the arousal leaking from her clenching sex. He licked her clean and she shuddered around another orgasm before slouching onto the bed with a tired whimper.
“Condoms,” she groaned, sounding as exhausted as he felt excited. “Please.”
He clapped her ass with both hands, the sound of their skin smacking together like a jolt of electricity to his spend dick. He stood from the bed and watched her as he pulled his pants and underwear from his ankles. He walked to the bathroom and stole peeks of her over his shoulder, not wanting to miss a second of drinking her in. He found the brand new box of condoms under the sink and hurried back into the bedroom. He stopped by the side of the bed just to look at her, marveling at her beautiful face pressed into the comforter, certainly smearing it with her makeup and tears, and her big round ass back in the air, waiting for him.
He threw the box of condoms next to her on the bed. He didn’t miss the small whimper that fell from her lips. He watched her as he carefully tugged his tie from around his neck and unbuttoned his shirt. His dick had mercifully come back to life.
Her hips began to circle in the air. He smiled at how beautiful desperation looked on her. He knew her sex must have been clenching, begging for him, and he didn’t have the self-control to make her — or himself — wait any longer.
He considered stripping her dress from her body so he could see every inch of her, but he reconsidered, unwilling to move her from this position just yet. Besides, the first thing he’d thought when he laid eyes on Cleo was that she was the kind of perfectly manicured exterior that he would enjoy deconstructing piece by piece, and he’d been right. Watching her fall apart for him in his car and now in his bedroom had been wonderful and seeing her disheveled and messy on his bed was even better.
“Fuck me,” she demanded.
“Tsk tsk tsk,” he said, picking the box of condoms up and ripping it open.
He slowly rolled a condom down his shaft and watched as she fisted the covers beneath her.
“Please fuck me, Mr. Shimizu,” she whined.
“You keep forgetting to ask me to come,” he said as he walked to the foot of the bed.
She whimpered some more as the mattress dipped and he settled behind her, pushing her knees further apart with his own. “I won’t forget this time,” she hissed, when the front of his thighs met the back of hers.
He stroked his dick as he watched her squirm beneath him. “We’ll see,” he whispered and then pushed into her in one long, deep thrust.
Technically, this was bad timing. Robert really couldn’t afford to spend the entire night fucking Cleo; he had a full day of work tomorrow. He needed to meet with his second-in-command, go over some contracts, review the background checks of his new hires. He had a busy life that required he be well-rested and alert, that’s why he usually planned his sexual encounters very carefully. Meeting Cleo was going to fuck up his schedule and he didn’t care. The minute he felt Cleo’s wet heat surround his aching cock, nothing that would come tomorrow was more important than staying right where he was. He had no plans to spend any more time sleeping tonight than was absolutely necessary and he’d just have to deal with the consequences because they would be worth it; Cleo was worth it.
He pulled out of Cleo’s pussy to the tip and she desperately pushed back onto him. He smiled a
nd pressed his hips forward, as needy to be inside of her as she was to have him there. Her muffled cries became hoarse and ragged and hysterical. His pulse was pounding in his ears like a stampede. It was perfect and then even better when she kept her word and cried out to him.
“Please can I come, Mr. Shimizu? Pleasepleaseplease,” she screamed.
How could he tell her no?
“Come,” he ground out through clenched teeth. And fuck if she didn’t feel amazing as he fucked her through that spasming orgasm.
And then she asked again and again, each time she was close.
He barked at her to come and then fucked her hard, rewarded with her clenching pussy shuddering around his dick, milking him. The said yes as his back bowed, his muscles strained and began to hurt, his hair became limp with sweat, because he didn’t want to tell her now and he never wanted this night to end. Robert wasn’t a man interested in casual sex or relationships, but there was nothing casual about the way Cleo felt coming on his dick and if relationships were like this, maybe he needed to rethink his stance.
It had been half a year since he’d had sex, and if Cleo was who he’d been waiting for, she was worth it. It hadn’t ever been nearly as good as this with anyone else, and Robert wanted to savor it and her.
And he did.
The hours melted away as they used almost the entire box of condoms. He rode Cleo and then she returned the favor. They ruined the sheets with her makeup and come and sweat. They ruined each other, Robert thought. But he knew for certain that Cleo had ruined him for anyone else. They fucked and sucked until they had literally nothing left to give.
They were out of breath, their throats were stripped, and their muscles were aching. They were too tired to even spoon and just passed out next to one another as the sun was beginning to lighten the sky. It was hands down, the best night of Robert’s life.
Cleo woke up with a start.
She would have admonished herself for falling asleep in a stranger’s house when she needed to get to running, but she’d never been fucked into a deep sleep before, so she gave herself a bit of grace as she blinked back into consciousness. Her throat was raw and aching and so was her pussy. She felt wrecked but energized.
She slipped out of Robert Shimizu’s bed but didn’t run away immediately, even though she definitely should have. She stood next to the bed and looked down at him, taking in his naked unguarded body in the early morning light. Besides the fact that her pussy was actually throbbing from overuse and she was worried she might not be able to lift her arms over her head because her muscles were so weak, she wanted to crawl back into his bed and climb on top of him again and that was a shocking thought. Even scarier was that she really wanted to curl into his side and feel his lean body against hers, listen to his deep breathing and soft snores rumble in his chest until he woke up naturally next to her.
But nah, she absolutely couldn’t do either of those things, so she forced herself to turn away. She tiptoed around the bedroom, locating her dress, purse and shoes all scattered on the carpeted floor, not entirely sure when she’d even taken any of those things off.
She cringed as she stepped into her dress. It was covered in her makeup and his come; filthy. Or maybe it was her come? Someone’s come. This was why she’d never been the stay the night one-night stand kind of woman, the morning after was a mess. But it had been worth it, she thought with a shrug, so she made do. When her good bits were mostly covered, she grabbed her purse in one hand, her shoes in the other and walked as quietly as she could from the room.
She made it as far as the door before the full scale of the previous night hit her; the good, the great and the confusing and her body tried to revolt, because she wanted to stay. But she forced herself to focus and deal with the most pressing matter at hand: she’d left her car at Frank’s house. It didn’t really matter since it was stolen, but how was she going to get out of here? She only had to wonder at that briefly, because the answer was very obvious.
She tiptoed back into the bedroom and plucked Robert’s car keys from the crumpled heap of his pants on the floor. Her fingers touched something soft buried deep inside his pocket and she pulled on it. She held her lacy thong in her hand. She knew she should take it with her; good lingerie wasn’t cheap. But a wave of unfamiliar sentimentality washed over her and she pushed her thong back inside his pants pocket. Last night had been unexpected and amazing and she wanted to leave him something to remember her by.
Especially since she was about to steal his car.
And since she was already stealing, she decided she wanted something to remember him by — when her aching body stopped throbbing — so she made her way back to the bed. She waited quietly next to Robert’s prone body, listening to his melodic breathing, making sure he was really asleep. When she was certain, she quickly unsnapped his watch, kissed him on his forehead and high-tailed it from the bedroom, softly closing the door behind her.
On the way back to the garage, she grabbed a crystal ashtray she’d use to appease Alex and a banana from the fruit basket on the kitchen table. She unlocked the car, threw her loot, shoes and purse into the passenger seat and put the key in the ignition. Before she made her escape, she flipped down the visor and immediately wished she hadn’t.
“Damn, girl,” she breathed disapprovingly at her reflection. Her makeup was gone — fucked and sweated away — besides black raccoon smudges of mascara around her eyes. Her wig was also a shambles, but to be fair, not because of Robert alone. There was no way to have sex like they had and not ruin a wig. The lace was lifting at her edges and she wasn’t even sure she’d be able to comb out the many knots. She closed the visor and sighed.
“Worth it,” she said to herself and rallied. She pressed the garage door opener above the rearview mirror and turned the key in the ignition. She carefully backed out of the driveway and into the street. Her eyes kept darting to the rearview mirror, expecting — maybe even hoping — to see Robert running after her, preferably stark naked.
But it never happened.
When she made it unmolested past the security shed and out of Robert’s neighborhood, she revved the engine — which made her think of Robert’s grunts — and headed straight to the freeway. At a red light, she fished her phone from her purse. She sighed at all the missed calls and text messages but ignored them. She hit speed dial number one.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Alex yelled into her ear as soon as she picked up.
“A bit of a detour. Couldn’t be avoided. How’d it go?”
Alex sighed in frustration. Cleo knew she wouldn’t let that vague answer slide, but there was business to attend to, however many hours late. “Cleaned him out without a hitch. Everyone’s on the move except you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I had Brian track your phone.”
“Have him track me again, I’m moving.”
“You missed your flight,” Alex shrieked.
“Yeah, sorry about that. New plan. I’m driving to my next stop.”
“What? Why? How? You left your car at the mark’s house. Luckily we snatched it and dumped it for you.”
Cleo smiled. “This is why you’re my perfect number two. And I’ll fill you in whenever I get to where I’m going, okay?”
“Fine,” Alex ground out. “But you better have a damn good reason for disappearing on me.”
Cleo hung up without answering her sister. She thought about telling her about last night. About Robert. She could ask Alex to discreetly investigate him, and knowing her sister, she would. But if she did that, Alex would want to rob him, or even worse, know how she felt about him. The thought made something in Cleo’s stomach rumble uncomfortably at the thought of stealing from Robert — well, any more than she already had — or thinking about feelings she couldn’t explain. So, she kept her mouth shut and her foot on the ignition.
There was a knot in her throat when she threw her phone back into the passenger seat. The sun was painfully
bright, and she flipped open the center console where she found a pair of vintage aviator Ray-Ban sunglasses and slipped them onto her face. She bet they looked fucking perfect on Mr. Shimizu, and as it happened, they looked amazing on her as well. They didn’t hide her lifting wig, but they hid her raccoon eyes, and something was better than nothing.
She pressed her left foot onto the clutch, moved the gear shift smoothly into second gear, and gunned the gas. She’d had much worse escapes from a job than driving off into the early morning sunshine in a vintage roadster, well-fucked and only a little bit remorseful.
December
five
“What do you think? Blonde? Honey blonde? Or should I give a few people a heart attack with this new pastel pink?”
“I don’t care what hair you wear,” Alex said.
Cleo turned from the coffee table where she’d laid out her wig choices and frowned at her sister, currently boring an angry hole in the side of her head with her gaze. “The fuck is up your ass today?”
Alex sighed and looked up at her. “You shouldn’t do this job.”
“Not this again.” Cleo shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest.
Alex rushed around the table. “Cleo, listen to me.”
“I have listened to you.”
“Then listen again,” Alex yelled.
Cleo sighed and shrugged with a nod.
“After the Pugh job, you said we were straight for the rest of the year.”
“We are—”
“Shut up. You said you wanted to spend New Year’s Eve on some tropical beach below the equator in the sunshine, drinking something strong and colorful. But here we are in Miami fucking Florida. Why?”
Cleo cut her eyes at her sister. “Oh, can I talk now?”
Alex rolled her eyes.
“You know why we’re here,” Cleo said. “How often do a bunch of rich ass people get together to blow too much money?”
Grand Theft N.Y.E. Page 5
