His eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”
A lesser person’s face would have fallen at that not-quite-welcome response. But Cleo was used to awkwardness, so she took it in stride, even though her heart felt as if it was breaking. “I’ve got a proposition for you,” she said.
“No,” he spat before she could finish speaking and practically launched his body onto the bed, crawling on top of her.
“Don’t you want to hear—” she tried to ask, as he pushed her flat on her back.
“No,” he said again. He grabbed her wrists and extended them over her head, holding them in one hand.
When he moved his free hand to grip her throat, Cleo couldn’t help but exhale, her entire body going slack under his, relaxed.
But Robert only seemed to stiffen on top of her, his grip on her wrist and neck tightening and his dick hardening in his pants. Cleo spread her legs so that bulge could settle against her core where it belonged.
“Why are you here?” he whispered again.
Cleo rolled her eyes. “I was trying to tell you.”
He unconsciously thrust his hips, and she purred at the friction of his groin grinding into her bare pussy. She felt the rage rolling off of him and into her in waves and it made her smile.
“Don’t smile,” he barked, thrusting with each word.
Cleo moved her head forward and licked his lips. “No.”
“Why are you here?” he asked again.
“Don’t you want me here?” she asked, arching her back to rub her breasts against his chest.
“You left me.” Robert’s voice broke and his eyes looked so sad and tired. Cleo’s smile faltered.
“Can I trust you?” she asked.
He scoffed. “Can you trust me?”
It wasn’t a real question, but she treated it as such. “Yes. Can I trust you not to call the police?”
“Yes,” he said immediately.
“I don’t care what you do to me, but my crew…” She swallowed and took a deep breath. “I had to protect my sister.”
“Your…? You work with your sister?” His hands loosened and he lifted from her body. The cool air of the bedroom covered her chest and she missed the warmth of him.
Even just thinking about Alex made her eyes water, but she shook her head, wanting to change the subject. “Worked,” she corrected, lowering her eyelashes — her real ones this time, she hadn’t wanted to risk this man ruining another pair of her favorite real mink wispies.
He squinted down at her.
“I retired.”
She felt his grip on her tighten again. “When?” His voice was hoarse with barely contained emotion.
Cleo relaxed in his hold, finally feeling the ice between them begin to really thaw. “Two weeks ago.”
“Miami?” he asked in desperation.
“Miami,” she confirmed.
“What now?” he asked, his head unconsciously dipping, his mouth getting closer to hers.
Cleo smiled and shrugged while she wrapped her legs around his waist and locked her ankles behind his ass. “I could do so many things now.”
“Like what?”
She licked her lips and shimmied, shamelessly rubbing her naked body against his soft wool suit.
“Like what, Cleo?” he repeated, his voice a deep sonorous whisper so full of possibility it made her core clench.
“I heard you were looking for a consultant.”
“I’m not.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “You’re not?”
He shook his head. “A consultant is temporary. I need something more permanent.” He dipped his head, nuzzling her jaw with his nose.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, Cleo,” he whispered against her lips as his head moved to the other side of her jaw to repeat the nuzzling there. He was teasing her and she wasn’t mad at it.
She bit her bottom lip, pretending to consider his words. “I think that can be arranged,” she moaned.
His head lifted. His eyes danced with mirth for a brief moment before they deadened. “How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you won’t just leave again?”
She hadn’t known what to expect of this reunion, but she’d been prepared for this question. Cleo turned her head to look at his watch on her left wrist. “I’ve never returned anything I’ve stolen before. Never got caught.” She turned to him with wide eyes. “I’m not ashamed of what I do. What I did. But it didn’t make me as happy as it used to. It never made me feel as much as you did in that car and this room.” She lifted her head from the bed toward him and he lowered to meet her halfway. “Ask me to stay,” she whispered against his lips.
“Will you stay with me?”
“Yes,” she said, and he pressed his mouth to hers in a brief but hard kiss.
“Now, ask me the other thing,” she said, and snapped his mouth between her teeth gently.
He kissed her first. He flattened his body against her, ground his dick against her pussy, tightened his fingers around her throat. “How do you want to be punished?”
Cleo had never shivered harder in her life. “I don’t stay where I’m not wanted. I want you to make me stay. Make me want to stay.”
“Have you ever stayed put before?”
Cleo smiled, loving how clearly he could already see her. “Never,” she whispered.
“Neither have I,” he said, his hips pumping against her.
She smiled and moaned low in her throat, digging her heels into his ass trying to get him closer, inside her. He moved his hand from the front of her neck, down her chest. He palmed her right breast and then strummed her nipple with his thumb.
Her head felt back to the bed and she sighed.
“Stay with me,” he mumbled against her cheek, not as a request or a command, but almost like a prayer.
Cleo smiled, snuggling into his beard.
“Do you like that?” he asked, rubbing his beard across her skin.
She moaned.
He stopped moving, his face buried in her neck, but without the hot friction of his hair against her skin.
She frowned. “Don’t stop.”
He didn’t answer.
Cleo was getting frustrated, but then she felt the soft press of his lips against her shoulder. She could feel his smile.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mr. Shimizu. I love the way your beard feels against my skin, Mr. Shimizu. Please don’t stop, Mr. Shimizu,” she trilled, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.
“Good girl,” he whispered into her ear, shaking with laughter. “Now I know how to punish you.”
“Wait. Hold up. How?”
He didn’t listen. Cleo started squirming underneath him as he scraped his beard over her naked body, sometimes softly, sometimes so hard it almost hurt. When he rubbed his beard over her nipples, the scratching of his hair was interspersed with flicks of his tongue and the scraping of his teeth.
“Oh fuck,” she groaned.
He lifted from her body and she arched her back, wanting his touch back, even when it hurt.
“Keep your hands above your head,” he growled.
She nodded excitedly. “Yes, sir. Now get to work.”
Robert shook his head while he rolled his eyes. But instead of getting down to business on her body, he sat back on his haunches and began to take his tie off.
“Motherfucker,” she hissed.
“I told you to speak nicely to me and I’d give you whatever you want.”
“I was nice! I’m butt ass naked! How much nicer do I need to be?”
He’d started unbuttoning his shirt while she whined. Cleo thought that the more unhinged she felt as her lust grew, the calmer Robert looked. And it might have been frustrating in the moment, but actually, it was sexy as fuck.
“Please,” she moaned.
“That’s better,” Robert said as he ripped his belt open and fished his dick from his pants.
Cleo spread her legs wider and smiled. “I
missed you,” she whispered to his dick.
“Ridiculous,” Robert said, and then he fisted his dick and began to jack himself off on top of her.
Cleo’s mouth fell open on a gasp. “You better fucking not,” she screamed.
Robert grunted and his dick jerked in his hand. She was so beautiful angry. And haughty. And scared. And annoyed. Cleo was perfect. “Do not move your hands,” he told her.
He let go of his dick briefly to stick two fingers into her pussy. They both groaned. She was even wetter and warmer than he remembered. He pumped his fingers into her and moved the thumb from his other hand to circle her clit.
Cleo planted her feet on the bed and jutted her hips up to him, begging him to fill her, touch her, taste her. And he would. Robert had six months of fantasies to play out with Cleo and he was certain she had a few of her own. He doubted they’d leave this room for a good long while. He couldn’t think of a better way to ring in the new year than in this bed, working Cleo over with everything he had and doing exactly as she’d asked; giving her more than a few reasons to stay.
She was close. Her thighs shook with her coming orgasm and the effort to keep her hips raised. He bent over and took a greedy lick of her clit. She cried out and then shuddered when he slapped her wet clit lightly with the pads of his fingers.
“Yes,” she breathed.
And then he stopped.
Her ass fell to the bed. “Nooo,” she whined, looking down at him.
He grabbed his dick again with the hand wet from her pussy and started masturbating again.
“Bitch,” she hissed.
“Is that nice?”
“It’s as nice as you’re going to get.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Is it?” he asked, gripping the head of his dick with his other hand and squeezing as he stroked his length.
Cleo licked her lips and then pressed her thighs together. Robert watched as the ghost of an orgasm ran through her. She shivered, her eyes closed as a soft moan escaped her lips. “Please,” she whispered in the sweetest moan of desperation.
Robert grunted, his control practically disintegrated. He pushed Cleo’s knees apart and then pushed into her with a single press of his hips. He didn’t give her time to adjust to the intrusion and he felt certain that if he’d tried, she might have resorted to violence.
Instead, he grabbed her hips and pulled her up to the perfect angle to pump into her as deep as possible, as hard as possible.
He fucked her with six months of pent-up lust and frustration and she fucked him back with the same. He looked down at her body — her breasts swaying with the force of their bodies moving, her mouth open on a perpetual moan and, best of all, her hands clutched together above her head — not wanting to disobey him.
“You’re perfect,” he panted.
“I know. Now please,” she begged, fucking him back.
His mouth watered at the hard points of her nipples. He let her back down to the bed and moved his hands across her stomach and up her ribs. He tickled the undersides of her breasts softly before grabbing them and squeezing, just hard enough that she would feel the bite.
Her muscles locked. Her thighs held him. Her pussy clenched and she came in a wet gush so strong, she pushed his dick out of her pussy.
“Please,” she ground out.
He shoved his dick back inside her and began to fuck her again, fucking her just as fast and just as hard. She was bucking underneath him so he covered her body with his own trying to hold her down. He moved his face back to her breasts and began to suckle and bite at her nipples while using his beard to drive her wild. She was screaming at the top of her lungs. Robert had never heard a sound so perfect.
She was close again, he could feel it, but he didn’t let up on her. He sucked her nipple into his mouth and caressed it with his tongue before biting lightly. She shuddered and came, and he fucked her through that release and then another. And another.
By the time he covered her body fully with his, fucking her into the mattress, he was gritting his teeth trying to keep his orgasm at bay.
“Stay,” he grunted.
“Come,” she replied.
And so he did.
His hips jerked as he emptied inside her. His lips met hers and he groaned his relief into her mouth. She met each press of his body against hers happily.
When he was spent, he collapsed onto her and she wrapped her legs and arms around him.
“You didn’t ask me if you could come,” he mumbled against her lips, unwilling to stop kissing her after so long apart.
“You said I could steal from you if I needed the thrill,” she laughed.
Robert wrapped his arms around her body and held her tight. “I meant my money or my cars.”
She shrugged in his hold. “Been there. Done that,” she said, shaking with laughter.
Robert watched her, tears falling from her eyes as she laughed at her own joke. He heard the faint sound of fireworks in the distance and he smiled. He dipped his head and brushed his lips over the rounded tip of her nose, and then across the high points of each cheekbone. He kissed the corner of her mouth and then her lips. “I wonder if you’ll be laughing when I’m rubbing my beard all over your pussy. No fingers, no dick, no tongue,” he said, the threat delivered in his most gentle voice.
Cleo’s face sobered and she opened her eyes to look up at him. “Yes, please, Mr. Shimizu,” she whispered.
He smiled at her and lifted back onto his knees.
Her hands went over her head again, fisting the comforter beneath her. He kissed his way down her body, his eyes trained on hers as she watched him descend. Robert pressed a soft kiss against her engorged clit. She jumped.
His tongue was out and he was ready to taste her when she stopped him with an arched eyebrow.
“Your security is terrible. You didn’t even change your garage opener.”
“I wanted you to come back,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry I stole your father’s watch.”
“It’s just a thing. So is the car. I wanted you to come back. Just you,” he said, and lowered his mouth to her sex, set on making sure she knew that he didn’t just want her here, he needed her.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
“Mr. Shimizu will be right in. Can I get you something to drink?” Mr. Shimizu’s personal assistant asked.
Kierra looked quickly around the large office. It was heavy with dark woods, and a large window on the north wall that shone light only on the large desk at the center of the room, casting the rest of the space in shadow. She, Monica, and Lane moved in front of the three hardbacked chairs facing the desk, and she sat in the middle, putting the cute new soft briefcase she’d bought to seem more professional on the low table in front of them.
Monica looked at the young man and smiled. “No, thank you. We’re fine.”
“Actually,” Kierra said, holding up her index finger. “Do you have sparkling water?”
“Of course. What flavor would you like?”
“What flavors do you have?” she asked excitedly.
Monica huffed in annoyance and Kierra smiled wider, waiting for Mr. Shimizu’s assistant to answer her question.
“We have lime, lemon, blackberry, orange, and plain, of course.”
“Blackberry sounds good,” Lane said, leaning slightly to his left, closer to Kierra.
“I think so too,” she said. “Can we,” she gestured between herself and Lane, “have blackberry, please?”
“Of course.” His gaze shifted to Monica. “Are you certain I can’t get you something?”
Kierra shifted in her seat and turned to Monica. She felt Lane shift behind her, probably to look at Monica as well.
Monica rolled her eyes at them and looked at the assistant. “Lemon, please.”
“Coming right up,” he said and walked briskly from the room.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Kierra asked Monica.
Monica rolled her eyes agai
n. Lane chuckled softly.
“Did you have to wear that skirt?” Monica asked, her eyes falling not to Kierra’s skirt but her bare thighs. They stayed there.
Kierra batted her eyelashes. “I like it, and it was a Christmas present from Lane.”
“I had it made specially for her. And it matches your suit,” he said, nodding at Monica’s perfectly tailored pinstripe pantsuit.
Monica lifted her eyes and glared at them. Kierra shivered and licked her lips.
“It’s too short,” Monica said.
“That’s not what you said when I tried it on last week, not that I got to keep it on for long,” she purred.
“That’s my point exactly,” Monica said.
Her face looked bored, completely uninterested in this mundane conversation. But Kierra knew her better than that. She recognized the slight squinting of her eyes and the way she pursed her lips; it was one of her favorite expressions on Monica’s face. She was trying to suppress her desire because they were in public. Kierra didn’t care where they were, that look was worth it every time.
“I said you could come only if you behaved,” Monica said. “We don’t technically need you to be in this meeting.”
“I know. But technically, this is an important instructional opportunity.” She leaned toward her. “And you never expressly defined what you meant by ‘behave.’”
Lane’s laughter was bright and happy, and it made Kierra shiver again. “Well, she’s got you there.”
The office door opened. Kierra didn’t turn her head while the assistant returned with their drinks. Instead, she kept her eyes on Monica as she crossed her right leg over her left and “accidentally” knocked Monica’s thigh with the toe of her knee-high suede boot – another gift from Lane – with a raised eyebrow.
“Is there anything else?” the assistant asked.
“Oh no,” Lane said. “We’re good.”
When the man had left again, Monica reached out to put her hand on Kierra’s thigh.
Kierra’s mouth fell open in a big, excited smile. “I realize that you two think this is funny.”
“Because it is,” Lane said, pulling the tab on his can of sparkling water.
Grand Theft N.Y.E. Page 10
