Reckless Weekend

by Eden Summers

  She was used to this, though—not being able to enjoy passion due to career choices. Working alongside the five biggest seducers in the music industry, knowing nothing could ever come from their banter, had made her strong. Or stupid. Other women had worked for the management company that employed her, all of them signing the same contract that stated an intimate relationship with a client was a dismissible offense. And she’d seen many of them clear their desks and leave because of it. Yet, Leah felt the same way about her job as the sexy guy with his digits deep inside her. The few seconds of bliss wasn’t worth ruining her life.

  She opened her eyes and smiled when his green gaze stared back at her.

  “You’re wreaking havoc on my self-control,” tattooed guy muttered.

  “Then stop,” she taunted, wriggling her ass.

  He growled and plunged his fingers deeper, swirling them inside her, brushing her G-spot. “I’m not a quitter.”

  Oh, she bet he wasn’t. What would it be like to be fucked by this man? To be pushed onto his bed and taken hard and fast? With all the cloth hidden tattoos on his body exposed for her exploration.

  She ran a hand down her body, picturing the perfection in her mind as she pressed two fingers against the thumb at her clit. The pressure inside her built, the frantic need burning hotter as he took her instruction and worked the tight little bundle of nerves harder.

  “As much as I usually encourage women to scream my name when they come, I need you to be quiet, OK, baby?”

  She nodded, moving her free hand to cup her breast, tweaking her taut nipple. “I don’t know your name.”

  “Even better,” he murmured, and lowered his head to inhale her scent. “Fuck. You smell like heaven. I could bury my face between your thighs and taste you for days.”

  “Oh, Christ,” she gasped. “You’re gonna make me come.”

  “That’s the whole point, sweetheart. I want this tight little pussy coming all over my fingers.”

  Her walls contracted at his words, sending a shot of pleasure to every pulse point on her body. He peered up at her, his lips agonizingly close to her sex, and licked his lips.

  Tease! This man was good. Oh, so good in the most frustrating way. He slid his free hand over her exposed abdomen, tickling her responsive skin as he ran his touch under her dress. When he reached her breast, she tensed, the slightest brush against her aching nipples tempting her hovering climax.

  “Tell me your name,” he asked, continuing to work his fingers in an out of her greedy pussy. “I want to know the name of the woman who is going to haunt my dreams.”

  It was a line, but a good one nonetheless. It reminded her of the Reckless men, of the arrogance that was too attractive to ignore. “Leah.”

  “Mmm, Leah.” He pinched her nipple, assailing her with a delicious spark of pleasure and pain. “Imagine me calling your name when I’m jerking off in the shower tonight.”

  The picture of perfection sent her over the edge. She squeezed her eyes shut, and slammed her mouth closed to fight a mewl from escaping. She held tight to her breast, and clutched the side of the chair with her free hand, needing grounding from the bliss trying to sweep her away.

  He continued to work her, rubbing with hard pressure against her clit while his fingers kept inside her, swirling around her G-spot. Her pussy clenched, over and over, while her entire body went rigid.

  “So fuckin’ hot,” bad boy muttered.

  Leah jolted with the last spasms of climax, still picturing the wet and aroused man in her mind, as her high faded. Then his touch was gone, his fingers gliding from her tight heat, his palm no longer cupping her breast.

  She opened her eyes and found him staring down at her with an intensity that held her captive. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, just continued to watch her with ferocity as she panted to catch her breath.

  “I shouldn’t have denied myself,” he whispered, yanking off his gloves. “I’m going to regret not fucking you for the rest of my life.”

  Leah chuckled, and a smile tilted his lips. She needed the ego boost. Being surrounded by men with superiority complexes had played havoc on her confidence, yet this man had given it all back to her, and then some. “Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me, sweetheart.” He turned on his stool and threw his gloves into the bin in the corner. “Watching you come undone was thanks enough.”

  Heat crept into her cheeks. No. No. No. Don’t sober up now. She shook off the embarrassment and as he pushed along the floor on his stool and retrieved a clean pair of gloves from the counter. He worked at the bench to the side of the room, opening packets, removing instruments from what she assumed was the sterilization unit, and placed them on a covered steel tray.

  “But now that all the fun is over, it’s time for me to leave my mark on that tempting hood of yours.” He slid back across the floor with the tray in his hands and placed it in the holder to the left of her chair. “Would you prefer a vertical or horizontal piercing?”

  He talked, non-stop, entirely in his element about things she couldn’t fathom, while he removed her G-string. Jewelry options, pain and healing timeframes, precautions and the risk of infection. None of it sunk in. All she could do was nod and agree with what he thought was best. Next thing she knew, he was positioned between her thighs again, inserting a tiny silver rod under her hood. She closed her eyes and prayed to wake up from her freakishly out of character dream. Why the hell was she prettying up a place that nobody else would ever see? She opened her mouth, trying to build the courage to pull out of her decision when he cut her off.

  “Take a deep breath in.”

  She did as instructed and squealed when the fires of hell erupted in her most treasured body part. “Holy shit.” It wasn’t a scream. Not really. More like a high-pitched call.

  Cold pressure doused the pain, and she breathed deep to calm herself. “It’s a saline swab,” bad boy announced. “It’s easy sailing from here, sweetheart. I’ll put the jewelry in, which may feel a little uncomfortable, and after that there should be little to no pain.”

  Leah opened her eyes and nodded. She watched as he bedazzled her rudder, thankful for the alcoholic buzz numbing her senses.

  “OK, we’re all done.” He yanked off his gloves with a snap and eyed his handiwork. “You’ll be happy with the results. It’s like a homing device for pleasure. Guys won’t have to search for that elusive clit anymore.”

  “Now all I need is a man,” she drawled, drawing her thighs together with caution.

  Bad boy stopped her, placing a hand on her knees. “Tell you what, if you don’t have a guy worshiping you by this time next year, come find me. I’ll show you a weekend you’ll never forget.”

  Leah wanted to laugh, but the happiness wouldn’t flow from her lips. This man was gorgeous, confident, and sweet in a rough and dominant kind of way, yet the thought of a weekend alone with him made her sad. Her days of being wild and free were over. She wanted a husband to love her, not a stranger to share a few days of heated passion. And this man wasn’t her type. She wished he was. Or maybe this was fate’s way of telling her she needed to stop thinking about men she couldn’t have.

  “I’ll take your silence as a brush off.”

  “No!” Leah sat up straight, not wanting to offend the man who’d unselfishly pleasured her. “I was daydreaming.”

  He handed over her G-string, his expression devoid of humor. “Well, whoever you were thinking about needs a kick in the ass for not staking a claim on you.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of anyone in particular.” She wasn’t. There wasn’t a man on her radar at the moment. Nobody suitable to give her heart to, anyway.

  “Sure you weren’t,” he taunted, seeing right through her. His stare was uncomfortable, like he knew the thoughts she was trying to hide even from herself. “You’re a gorgeous woman, Leah. If he doesn’t want you, then find a better man who does.”

  Ten minutes later, Leah shuffled from the back room into the reception a
rea, her confidence now replaced with chagrin. Bad boy followed behind her. His taunting grin still consumed her mind, along with the chuckle he’d released when she squealed from the needle's penetration.

  “What the hell did you get done?” Gabi asked, striding toward her.

  Leah winced and pulled the strap of her handbag higher on her shoulder. If she ignored the question, it might go away. She’d sobered up and had more than a few moments of clarity to acknowledge her stupidity. Receiving sexual pleasure from a stranger was a dumb idea. The piercing was even dumber. Yet, the thing that nagged her the most were a few simple words—whoever you were thinking about needs a kick in the ass. Was she that transparent?

  “Leah?” Gabi spoke again.

  Leah let out a sob. She didn’t want to voice her stupidity. She was meant to be smart, god damn it. With a deep breath she spoke, “It took a sudden, excruciating burst of pain—that felt nothing like a pinch—to sober me up and realize what a dumb idea this was.”

  Alana came to stand beside Gabi, her lips pressed together in contained laughter. “You look pale.”

  “Show us the piercing,” Kate said, stepping forward. “We need a picture to send to the guys.”

  Oh, hell no!

  Leah shook her head, and sexy bad boy broke into laughter from behind her. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why?” Gabi asked. “What did you get done?”

  Leah glanced from one lady to the next. Alana, Gabi, and Kate held varying expressions of humor, while Mrs. Shelton frowned in concern.

  “I got my…” She cleared her throat and gestured to her crotch.

  Alana’s mom gasped.

  Gabi burst into laughter, the first free-spirited reaction Leah had witnessed from Blake’s fiancée all night. “You did your clit?” she asked.

  Leah continued to wince as she nodded. “Why would I do something so stupid? I don’t understand. I walked in there contemplating an earring, then sat down and became distracted.”

  Kate eyed the tattooed stud behind the counter and grinned. “I don’t blame you.”

  “Yeah, me either,” Alana muttered, “But you’ll still have to prove it to the guys.”

  Leah’s stomach nose-dived. “No way.” She shook her head with vehemence. “They’ll have to take my word for it.”

  “Has Mason ever acted like a guy who would take your word for it?” Alana sniggered.

  A whimper escaped her lips. There was no way any of those guys were seeing her private parts. They would never let her live it down, not to mention she could lose her job. Maybe she should go back in and get her ears done.

  Gabi winced then covered it up with a cheesy smile. “It’s OK, we’ll work it out.”

  Leah sighed, turning to pay the sexy man behind the counter. She concentrated on tidying her purse, unable to look him in the eye, until he handed back her credit card and didn’t let it go. He held it tight between his fingers until her gaze met his.

  “Remember what I said, Leah,” he spoke in a soft tone. “Come find me if you need help convincing yourself how gorgeous you are.”

  She ignored the fluttering of her heart, and smiled. “Thank you. As much as I’d like to…finish what we started, I hope you never see me again.”

  “Yeah, sweetheart. It’s a double-edged sword for me too.”

  He released her card, and she gave him one final seductive grin before turning her back and walking over to the circle of waiting ladies. “Let’s get out of here. I need a stiff drink.”

  “No problem.” Alana placed an arm around Leah’s shoulders. “Next stop is a strip club.”

  Gabi diverted her gaze from the bared breasts of the slim woman on stage and stared at the glasses lining the strip club table in front of her—a shot of Alligator Sperm, a tall glass of Sex on the Beach, and another shot of Cock-sucking Cowboy. This wouldn’t end pretty. She’d already tried to drown her sorrows in champagne, and the alcohol had gone straight to her head, now throbbing with the loud stage music.

  The sweet bubbly liquid hadn’t helped her mood, but the three more drinks may numb her senses enough to forget her pain. She wanted to enjoy herself, for Alana’s sake, yet all she could find were tiny bursts of happiness that flittered away with the next breath. Like when Leah had announced her clit hood piercing. That had been funny, yet Gabi’s humor died within seconds, replaced with the suffering she’d been going through for days.

  “What are you waiting for?” Leah asked. “Get your drink on.”

  Gabi sighed, and pasted on a smile, hoping to fake her enjoyment. “You know I’m going to be pissed as a cricket after this, don’t you?”

  Alana frowned. “I thought you wanted to do this. If it’s going to annoy you, don’t do it.”

  Gabi rolled her eyes. One day, hopefully in the near future, she would no longer have to explain Australian slang to her friends. “No, I mean ‘pissed’ as in drunk, not angry.”

  “There’s a difference?” Kate asked over the thump of heavy bass.

  “There is in Australia.”

  “Just do it fast. One. Two. Three. Then you’re done.” Alana held up her phone, videotaping Gabi’s dare so they had proof to send to the guys.

  “OK, here goes.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the sadness that clawed at her chest and downed the first shot in a quick swallow. Bang. She slammed it back down on the table. “Damn, that was nice.” Sweet, creamy with a slight tangy aftertaste.

  “Don’t stop,” Kate screeched. “You need to do them straight after each other.”

  Gabi lowered her gaze to the remaining drinks so she didn’t glare at Alana’s best friend. “Cheers.” She raised the glass of Sex on the Beach, then placed it to her lips and sculled. Her throat glugged as her stomach became heavy. Not a good sign when the sole item lining her gut was alcohol.

  Bang. She slammed the second glass down and gasped for air. Before she contemplated backing out, she stared at the tiny camera lens on Alana’s phone and downed the remaining shot.

  Bang.

  All done.

  Her insides swirled, revolting at the liquid poison. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” She placed a hand on her belly and time stopped. Her instinct to touch her stomach was normal, yet it made her wince, and she squeezed her eyes shut to stem the tingling in her eyes.

  “Toughen up, princess.” Leah spoke beside her. “At least you didn’t have to get a piercing.”

  Gabi opened her eyes, already thankful that the alcohol was heating her blood, lessening her emptiness. She glanced at Leah and smiled. “Why you didn’t pick your ear or even your tongue to pierce is beyond me. But have fun proving it to the guys.”

  “Guys, shmys,” Leah slurred, taking a large gulp of her fruity drink.

  “I wouldn’t have a problem proving it,” Kate cackled. “If the others are half as talented between the sheets as Blake, I’d show them all.”

  Umm. What the fuck now? Gabi frowned, while dread added to the mix of churning emotions coursing through her body. “Excuse me?” She didn’t withhold her glare this time. “What the hell did you say?”

  Kate’s eyes widened. “Um.”

  “Um?” Gabi raised a brow. “Please tell me you haven’t slept with my fiancé.” She was so sick of this. Sick of women fawning over him, chasing him, trying to seduce a man who was clearly off the market.

  “Um…” Kate shot a panicked glance at Alana, then turned back to Gabi.

  “Yeah, I got that part.”

  “It was before he met you,” Alana interrupted. “Back when Mitchell and I first hooked-up.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Gabi snapped, her hands beginning to tremble. Her sanity began to break, her head pounding harder with each pained breath. “Has anyone here not slept with Blake?”

  Mrs. Shelton slowly raised her hand.

  “Well thank fuck for that,” Gabi muttered.

  Alana shook her head. “You know I haven’t slept with him.”

  Gabi turned to the bride-to-be and narrowed her gaze. Al
ana had seen Blake naked, had watched him jerk himself to completion, and given him the viewing pleasure of her having sex with Mitch—same damn thing. Yet she couldn’t blame her friend. It was in the past, and Alana knew better than to bring up conversations that would create hostility between them.

  “What about you, Leah?” Gabi shifted her focus, trying hard not to let her tempestuous mood take hold, and failed miserably. “Have you slept with him? Or seen him naked? Or let him watch you have sex?”

  “Girlfriend, I’m so damn drunk right now, I can’t tell if you’re grumpy or just messin’ with us. I will admit to seeing him naked, though. That guy has the finest ass this world has ever seen.” Leah’s eyes gleamed in enthusiasm as she nodded her head in jerky movements. “Yumm-ohh.”

  Bloody hell. She didn’t need this. Her mind was already filled with enough insecurities without going back to worrying about Blake’s man-whoring days. It didn’t matter that he’d done all the dirty deeds before they met in person. His past still had the ability to eat away at her when she was low. Women continued to flirt with him—at the grocery store, at restaurants, in the elevator of their apartment building when Gabi was standing right beside him. And even though he always ignored it, or brushed it off with polite indifference, it continued to make her feel like the lesser party in their relationship.

  “I’m sad to admit, I haven’t seen his front-junk,” Leah continued, not picking up on Gabi’s torment. “Although, from Alana’s description and Kate’s enthusiasm, I guess you’re one very lucky lady, Gabrielle Smith.”

  Gabi ignored the comment and grabbed her purse from the table. “I need some fresh air.” She didn’t want to ruin Alana’s night, but if she remained here, surrounded by women who had shared intimate moments with her fiancé, she would lose the single thread she held to her sanity.

  It had been two days since her life had been torn apart. Two days filled with crying in isolation, suffering from mental anguish unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Yet, she’d vowed to hold herself together until the end of Alana’s wedding. Only two more days to get through, and then she could crumple.