Miss Behave
Page 10
This was a stupid idea. All I’d managed to do was make a fool out of myself. I should have just taken the hint before and—
“You think I’m not interested?” He rose, standing just a couple of inches before me. “That I don’t want you?”
I didn’t respond.
His hands went behind his neck, his wild eyes going to my breasts, my belly, my thighs. He gulped in some air, then blew it out through his nose noisily. “I was trying to get to know you, Lizzie. Be respectful and all that shit.”
“That’s very thoughtful, Ash. But did it ever occur to you that we could get to know each other naked, as well? Maybe I don’t want to be Miss Behave all the time. Maybe I want to be… disrespected.”
He grabbed my arms, hauling him against me. “You want to be disrespected?”
14
Ash
I shook my head at her. “You’re not a slut, Lizzie. Don’t treat yourself like one. You deserve more than that.”
My head was spinning. My dick was rock hard from the sight of her in black lacy things—including stockings and fuck-me heels—and the realization that she’d come to my apartment to seduce me.
That was hot.
She jerked backwards, but I didn’t let her go. Glaring up at me, she spit out, “Fine. Respect me, then. But if you just want to be friends, then say so. Don’t make me think that we might be going out when we’re really not. It’s super confusing and I might do something stupid, like show up in my underwear!”
I looked down between us, where her breasts were spilling out of her bra and pressing up against my chest. “It’s pretty nice underwear.”
“Wasted on you, apparently.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Ha! I haven’t been able to put anything in your mouth, Ash.” She turned her head away, giving me a tempting view of the line of her creamy neck. The tops of her ears were pink.
When I didn’t respond, she sagged a little in my arms. Her eyes fluttered closed. “Can I please just go?”
My grip on her shifted, from imprisonment to an embrace. I pulled her close to me and buried my face in her hair, trying to think.
What should I do, here? I’d been keeping my distance, afraid I was getting in too deep. There were… complications between us, not the least of which were our jobs. I’d never felt about a girl the way I felt about Lizzie Bell, and it confused the hell out of me.
It had never occurred to me that Lizzie would fight my withdrawal. That she would chase me, for all intents and purposes. My ego—and other things—swelled, but I still didn’t know where we stood or where we were going. All I knew was that…
“I don’t want to be friends,” I muttered into the softness of her hair.
Her whole body went rigid against mine, but she remained silent. A knock on my bedroom door startled both of us.
“Uh, Ash? What’s going on?”
I called out, “Go home, Mike. Everybody out. Party’s over.”
“What about the stripper?” he whined.
Lizzie managed to pull back enough for me to see her downcast and embarrassed expression. I touched her face, my hand cradling her jaw. She kept her gaze on my neck.
“I’ll take care of her,” I said. “Just get the guys out, okay? Please?”
Pause. Then, “Fine. You owe me, man.”
Bright spots of color burned high on Lizzie’s cheeks, near my fingertips. I smoothed my thumb over her chin. I heard vague shuffling noises from the living room, then the bang of my front door closing.
Then nothing.
Except our breathing.
Both my hands smoothed over her jaw and swept down her neck to her shoulders. “Who are you?” I asked gruffly.
She finally lifted her eyes to me. The moisture in them made them look like polished jade. “I thought I knew.”
“Miss Behave,” I murmured. A piece of her hair fell down as she shook her head. I tucked it behind her ear.
“That’s my job. It’s not who I am.” She sounded as though she was trying to convince herself, as well as me. “I don’t think.”
It was a mask for her to hide behind. But this—the outfit and her surprise visit—it wasn’t her, either. It was just a different kind of disguise.
“You said something to Cubicle Crush about communicating expectations, remember?”
She nodded slowly, a furrow appearing between her eyebrows. “Right.”
“So what were your expectations in coming here?”
Her breath hitched and she shifted her weight from side to side on her heels. “I wanted—”
“No, not what you wanted. What did you expect?”
Lizzie paused, as though she hadn’t really thought about it until now. “I expected to be wanted. If I’m not, then I’d rather just go, and we can forget all about this, okay?”
Without a word, I pushed her coat off her shoulders and down her arms, until it puddled on the floor behind her. She stood there, her arms crossed over her belly, in her black bra, panties, and garter, looking like a high-class hooker but blushing like Miss Behave.
“Oh, you’re wanted,” I said quietly. I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close so she could feel how much I wanted her. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you? That’s why you came over.”
She nodded, but I couldn’t see her eyes. I tilted her chin up. “Look at me, Lizzie. If you go to a man’s house looking like this, you better be able to say what you want. Or you might get what you don’t.”
Her lips pressed together tightly, then parted. She licked them. “I want you to fuck me. Like you did before.”
“I can’t. Not like before.” When she opened her mouth to protest I put my finger over it. “That was the first time. There’s never another one of those,” I told her.
I slipped the straps of her bra off her shoulders. Her nipples hardened into pointed buds in the sheer lace. It only took a sweep of my thumb to peel back the cups and expose her.
She gasped.
While one hand lazily caressed her breast, my other hand drifted down to her little black panties. I could feel the heat emanating from her, and I wasn’t surprised to feel the crotch soaked through when I slid my fingers over it.
“Oh! Mmm!” She moaned when I touched her over her panties. Then she jerked when I curled my fingers past the elastic and thrust them inside her hot, wet pussy.
“So you want to be fucked?” I asked her. She cursed when I added another finger. “You want to be treated, what was it—disrespectfully?”
When she licked her lips, her eyes twinkled at me, taking me by surprise. I pulled my hand out of her panties, smelling her all over them. I hummed thoughtfully, then pushed down on her shoulders.
“Get on your knees.”
She hesitated only for a split second before lowering herself to the floor, while I opened up my pants and pulled down my briefs. My cock leapt up, weeping at the tip. Lazily I cupped my balls, gritting my teeth when I gently squeezed them.
Lizzie waited for further direction, her breath hot on my thighs. Could I do this? Could I treat her like this? Like any other one-night stand?
Before my hands could go to her head, she leaned forward and closed her mouth around my tip. And sucked.
“Fuck!”
Her hands steadied me briefly, then wrapped around my dick as she tried to take more and more of my length in her sweet mouth.
“Yeah, baby.”
I felt the short bursts of hot air from her nose all the way along my cock as she swallowed. Her tongue spread around me, undulating and massaging me until I squeezed my eyes shut in ecstasy. She needed both hands, and I groaned as I nudged the back of her palate.
When I looked down, she’d managed to get half of me in and her eyes were watering. She swallowed reflexively, squeezing my tip. Pre-cum was likely dribbling down her throat. The thought of fucking her throat made me swell even further.
She whimpered around me, but didn’t gag. I played with her hair, r
ubbing the ends against my belly. “Such a good girl,” I said. “A good, greedy girl. You want me to come down your throat?”
Her mouth tightened around me, and she shuffled closer. Her hands went to my ass, letting me thrust deeper.
Fucking Christ! I’d never met a woman who could take all of me like this, and now Miss Behave was getting close to having nine inches down her throat.
Her mouth was so full she couldn’t move her tongue or anything, yet I was aroused to the point of no return just from the feel of her and the sight of her rosy lips stretched around the base of my cock.
I wondered if I’d see the outline of my dick in her stretched neck from a different angle, or if she was drooling out the sides of her mouth. “I’m so close, baby,” I warned her.
She blinked up at me, tears falling down the sides of her cheeks. Somehow she managed to swallow and hum at the same time, bringing me to the edge.
When her fingertip grazed underneath my balls, it was like she’d struck a match.
“Fuck, I’m coming! Ungh! Take it!”
I came even harder knowing that I was shooting straight down her throat, filling her belly. It was all about me, and my own selfish pleasure, and I grunted through every amazing goddamn second of it.
Finally Lizzie leaned back, panting, with her mouth open. I looked around my bedroom, and found a half-filled water bottle on my nightstand. When I handed it to her, she took it gratefully, drinking it down.
Some of it dribbled down her chin and chest, leaving a shiny trail of moisture disappearing into her cleavage. Her curves rippled as she twisted around to take her shoes off, so the heels wouldn’t dig into her ass.
“That was amazing,” I said, admiring her. My arousal rose again, like I’d only barely slaked my thirst for her. “Was that what you wanted?”
“Not exactly,” she croaked.
I pulled her back up to standing, my hand going inside her little black panties. She was sopping wet, her pussy trying to suck my fingers inside. At the top of her lips, her hard nub rose up against my knuckle.
“Ahhh! Shit!” she cried out as I curled one finger inside and rubbed my thumb over her. I could almost pinch her between her spongy g-spot and her swollen clit. “Oh god, Ash!”
Gritting my teeth, I realized that I needed her again. She’d asked to be wanted—well, she got it. Impatiently I pulled her panties down and off one bare foot. Then I backed her up against the wall and pushed her legs apart.
“Hold on to me,” I commanded as I bent at the knees, positioned myself and drove up into her.
She shrieked, her legs wrapping around my waist, her head banging back. Her hands locked together around my neck as I fucked her against the wall.
I already knew I wasn’t going to come as hard as I had before, but I needed to empty myself into her. Needed to fill her with all my longings; all my doubts swallowed by her body.
My hips jerked forward, and her back slid up and down the wall an inch at a time. I filled my hands with her luscious ass, holding her up.
With one thrust, my thumb slipped over her cheek and nudged against her other hole. Her pussy clamped down on me in response, and she let out a gasp.
“Now who’s misbehaving?” I chuckled, nearly crawling out of my skin with desire at the thought of someday taking her there.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” she chanted, her hair swishing along the wall. “What are you doing to me?”
“I’m using you,” I told her grimly. “You know that? You asked to be fucked. This is what you tell people who write to you that they shouldn’t have, shouldn’t want.”
“I know, I know.” Her eyes were glazed over as she looked at me, her cheeks red. Her mouth opened and closed, as though she wasn’t sure what else to say.
I shouldn’t want this so much; I knew that. But I’d be damned if I was going to give it up now.
My body strained further, chasing another climax with taut muscles and tender nerves. Her tits jiggled against my chest, and her legs tensed around my waist. I had no idea if she was close to coming, and I didn’t care.
But when my grasping hands shifted on her ass and grazed the hot, wet place where we were joined, her pussy squeezed in response. With my legs burning and my balls tightening, I roared out my release.
Only when our legs had given out and we both folded to the floor, did I realize that not once had I kissed her.
15
Lizzie
The Ash Principle failed me. I didn’t get two orgasms to his one. I barely caught the crest of a wave before it was all over. He was right—he had used me for his own gratification.
And for some strange reason, it gave me a peculiar feeling of pride.
Woot! I’d been disrespected!
The feminist in me should have been offended but then I remembered that I’d wanted to get fucked, and that’s what I got. I asked to be wanted, not cherished or revered. He didn’t treat me like a china doll, or like a “good girl”.
I squirmed, my face heating as I recalled the way he took me—powerful, possessive… perpendicular.
Frankly, I was also shifting in my chair because my shriveled up raisin coochie had taken a pounding. Someone needed to invent soothing, padded underwear for women, like the bicycle shorts you could buy with gel cushioning in the crotch. I was half tempted to go to the drugstore and pick up one of those donut pillows to sit on.
“So I guess the coat and underwear worked, huh?”
I looked up to see Dara assessing me over the cubicle wall. “Um…”
“Oh yeah, you got laid.”
“There wasn’t a lot of laying, actually. It was mostly vertical,” I whispered conspiratorially.
“Niiiiice. I had to spend the evening talking my boy off the ledge, since he thought I was passive-aggressively criticizing his skills. He didn’t believe my questions were ‘for a friend’.” She used air quotes and rolled her eyes.
I twirled in my chair to confront her. “Why haven’t I heard about this guy before?”
She combed her fingers through her bangs, hiding her eyes. “It’s new, that’s all. Not much to tell yet.” Her shoulders moved up and down and she glanced away. It was like a textbook list of avoidance body language. It made me even more curious than before.
“Well, if you want to bounce anything off me…”
“Uh, Lizzie?” She chuckled. “If I need advice, Ash’s style suits me better, you know? No white gloves.”
I blinked and looked away. “I meant as a friend, Dara. If you wanted to just talk about it.” Hurt worked its way through my chest and up my throat, like reflux.
Her face fell. “Damn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” She banged her forehead on the top of the wall.
“Lizzie!” Rob Mooney’s voice drifted over the cubicle farm. “Lizzie Bell! In my office!”
I got over my butt hurt long enough to throw Dara a panicked look. “What now?”
She shook her head. “I know nothing,” she swore, dropping out of view.
I stood up, smoothing my hands over my skirt and wriggling my bare feet back into the ballet flats that were under my desk. Then I grabbed a pen and a sticky note pad, and skedaddled down the hall. Well, more like walked with my legs bowed out a little.
Rob frowned at me when I appeared in the doorway. Not a great sign.
“Close the door and sit down.”
Oh god. I was getting fired. My mouth dried up and my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. Robotically, I closed the door and sank into the chair in front of his desk.
He leaned back in his chair. “How do you think Miss Behave is going, Lizzie?”
I had to do my own performance evaluation? “Great? I mean—it’s going just fine. Did you want me to get you click-through numbers or something?”
“No, I have them.”
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. My heart slammed against my breastbone.
“Your readership is up,” he said, plucking a yellow sticky note off his desk and looking at it. “E
specially on your joint columns with Ash Garrison.”
Breathe. Breathing is important.
Nodding, I untangled my fingers from the knot they were in on my lap. “And you were right about the serialized advice. I’ve been getting some emails asking about Cubicle Crush. People love the story.”
My editor beamed. “That’s great! Forward those to me, would you? I’d like to see them.”
“Not a lot,” I backtracked, not wanting to shoot myself in the foot. “Half a dozen, total.”
“Doesn’t matter. For every person who actually sends something, there are a hundred who don’t.” He flicked the sticky note between his fingers and hummed thoughtfully. “The main reason I wanted to talk to you was to ask you two things.”
I waited, keeping my expression as blank as possible. It was my belief that bosses could smell fear, like animals and small children.
“Do you think Ash could handle the column for both sites by himself until the merger?”
I was getting fired. “I-I’m not…” Should I say no, to save my job? It wasn’t the truth. He was a smart, talented writer. I had no doubt he could do it. Crap! I couldn’t just throw him under the bus.
Rob put his hands on his desk. “Are you still interested in news?”
My lips parted as I tried to keep up. “Am I…”
“You still want to do news, Lizzie?”
“Yes!” I burst out, sitting up straight and tall.
He pointed a pen at me, like he was aiming a dart at my head. “Okay, here’s the deal. Jessica is out for at least a few weeks, and Peter is almost finished with his term.” He sighed.
“Peter?”
“The intern.”
Oh, right. Intern Pete from Columbia.
“So we’re short-staffed. If Ash can cover the column, you can have a shot at this. If you want.”
“I do!” Now I was almost bouncing on the chair like a kid on a sugar high.
Yes! This was amazing! This was the opportunity I’d been waiting two years for!