by M Never
“My help or Endeavor’s help?”
“You work for the heavy guns.” He shrugs. “If we could utilize their resources, it may be beneficial.”
I stare Slade down. Endeavor is a highly organized, highly classified organization. The fact we are even speaking about it openly could get me blackballed from the entire secret service community.
“I tried to get you in, and you turned me down,” I remind him.
“I like working on my own. And let me remind you, if I wasn’t such a loner, you might be dead.”
He’s got me there. He saved my life, plain as day. I’ll owe him forever.
“Fine,” I huff. “Give me all the information you have on her. I’ll run it through the channels and see what we can find.”
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about.” Slade slaps my knee. “Partner.”
“Associate,” I correct him.
“Drinking buddy?” He offers an alternative.
We tap glasses.
“Always.”
I AM ON MY SECOND drink.
I’m standing at the bar alone, in a low-lit lounge waiting for Tara to show up. After an afternoon with Slade shooting the shit and strategizing on his missing person case, I texted Tara, worked out a time to meet, and then watched the seconds tick by until I couldn’t take being cooped up in my hotel room anymore. Which is why I am here an hour early, waiting. Waiting, like an obedient dog for his afternoon snack. A snack that I plan to devour.
Just as I take one big impatient swig of Glenfiddich, I see her walking toward me. I nearly choke as she saunters across the room wearing a long coat, a skintight sweater dress, and thigh-high boots.
Holy. Shit. Tara in Hawaii was hot, but Tara in New York is a seductress. Her makeup is heavy, and her long platinum hair is cascading down her slim figure, reaching almost to her waist. And just like before, her eyes trap me. They are rimmed in black and dusted with shimmer. Her irises are as bright as an electric blue current.
“Hey,” she says simply once she reaches the bar.
“Hey,” I respond like a doof because that is what this woman reduces me to.
The bartender puts a napkin in front of Tara and asks what she would like to drink.
“A Manhattan, please. Straight up with extra cherries,” she orders, surprising me.
“I didn’t take you for a whiskey girl.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” She flirts right off the bat.
“There are a lot of things I do.” I get a little closer to her, firing right back. A few moments later, the bartender places Tara’s drink in front of her. With her eyes trained on me, she tucks some hair behind one ear, picks up her martini glass, and takes a long, slow sip. It makes me instantly hard as I enviously watch the brown liquid pass through her lips. That whiskey has no idea how lucky it is.
“So.” She places the glass down and turns her body toward me.
“So,” I echo her, and we both smile. “How was dinner?”
“Fine,” she says softly, seductively. “How was your day?”
“Long,” I admit. “I did some work and then spent the rest of the time thinking about you.”
Tara takes another delicate sip of her martini, her blue eyes plastered to mine. “I was thinking about you, too.” With her confession, we simultaneously move closer together.
“Good.” I slip my arm loosely around her waist. I didn’t think it was possible to be apart for so long and feel as if we never left each other’s side. “What exactly were you thinking about?”
She smiles, and I automatically know we were thinking about the exact same thing.
I take a long swig of my scotch, trying to temper my raging hormones.
“Tell me a secret,” she says softly into my ear as if she senses my unrest. My emotions turn over.
With bravado, I divulge, “I didn’t just come to New York for business. I wanted to see you.” I grip her hip. “I wanted to feel you.” I drop my face to her neck and inhale her sweet scent, running my nose along her skin.
“Well, I’m here.” She offers herself up.
I snap my head up so I can look at her. “Yes, you are. Spend the night with me,” I boldly proposition. Every second that ticks by down here is one we’re missing upstairs.
“I can do that.” She leans into me so close our lips brush. “I want to feel you, too.” Every cell in my body pulsates. I don’t hold back, I grab her by the neck and smother her with an irrepressible kiss. It doesn’t matter that we’re out in public or that I can feel every eye at the bar staring at us; having Tara so close unleashes desires in me unheard of for any human man.
“Let’s go.” I hastily grab some cash from my wallet and throw it onto the bar. Taking Tara by the hand, I lead her out of the lounge and straight to the elevators. I glance back as she trails behind me holding her coat and purse to her chest. At the elevator door, I hold her close as we wait for them to open. She snuggles up to me, dotting kisses on my neck as the never-ending seconds tick by. If those doors don’t separate soon, I am going to rip them open with my bare hands. There’s suddenly a ding. I yank Tara inside and press the number to my floor. Once enclosed in the small space, there’s no restraint. It’s like a chemical reaction. We attack each other. She drops her belongings as I pin her into the corner. Like two starving animals, we claw and kiss and grind all over each other until we are panting and the mirrored walls have fogged over. The elevator dings, and I glance back to see it hasn’t stopped on my floor. We break apart just as two men enter the elevator with us. They’re middle-aged and dressed in designer suits. They’re both smirking as they step on.
“Please, don’t let us interrupt,” one says entertained, turning his back to us and pressing a button.
“How very kind of you,” I reply, pulling Tara against my chest. We’re both out of breath and slightly disheveled; Tara’s lips swollen and pink from my flaming kisses. I smile to myself. Her pussy is going to look the same way once I’m done with it.
When we finally reach my floor, I scoop up Tara’s coat and purse from the ground and salute the two men still on the elevator with us. They both shoot me an envious grin. That’s right, fellas, be jealous. Be so fucking jealous.
I open the door to my suite and show Tara in.
“Wow!” She walks straight into the living area and looks out the window.
“This is one of my favorite places to stay.” I drop her stuff on the sofa. The room is comfortably large with sleek black furniture, outlandish art, white couches, and gray area rugs. But it’s the view that keeps me coming back.
“This is awesome,” Tara breathes as she gazes down at St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
“It’s even better now that you’re here.” I wrap my arms around her snugly and kiss her neck. She drops her head to the side giving me better access. I nip and lick at her skin while groping her breasts and plucking at her nipples. She moans, arching her back, allowing me free admission to her body. Her, slim, smooth, irresistible fucking body.
“Can I have you, Tara?” I ask, only half toying with her.
“You know you can.”
“Any way I want?”
She nods. “Any way.”
I spin her around, the lights of Manhattan sparkling in the window reflecting lightly off her face. I want to see her whole body glimmer like that. I grab the hem of her dress and pull upwards, dragging the material over her head and then drop it on the floor. I then unhook her bra and toss it aside. This woman can make me crumble; she is so utterly perfect. Tara stands in front of me mostly naked, barely batting an eyelash. She is completely comfortable just letting me take her all in. Letting me stare at the exposed body I’m about to devour.
“You have me. Now, what are you going to do with me?” She isn’t teasing me; she’s challenging me. Tara is no sexual wallflower. I learned that the first night we were together. She likes to come, and I have no problems making her scream. Repeatedly.
I smile wickedly
at her. “I’m going to bend you over and fuck you. I’m going to watch as you touch yourself. I’m going to tease you until you’re begging. But first . . . I want you to swallow my cock.”
Tara bites her lip. “Is that the exact order?”
“We’re going to mix it up.” I grab her hand and drag her to the bedroom. No more fooling around. Time is not on our side, and my dick can’t stand being in the same room as her without feeling her lips around it.
“Sit.” I push her down on the bed and stand directly in front of her. “Do it.” I push my pelvis out. Tara raises her hands and unbuckles my belt. She then unbuttons my fly and pulls out my straining cock. I’m on fucking fire, a conflagration of sensations that is only burning hotter by the second.
“Baby, now, I can’t wait.” I poke her lips, desperate.
Tara grips my shaft and squeezes tightly. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my head; I’m falling apart already, and she’s barely touched me. I didn’t realize the control she had over me until this very second. In her absence, I yearned for her, but in her presence, I ache for her.
Tara takes mercy on me by opening her mouth widely and accepting me all in. I feel it all the way to my tailbone. The heat, the pressure, the way her tongue works the underside of my cock.
“Holy shit.” I grab onto her hair, arch backward and surge into her mouth. She swallows every single thrust, massaging my balls as I greedily reap the pleasure.
“Touch yourself. I want to feel everything you make yourself feel.” I grip her hair firmly, halting all movement. With my cock still securely in her mouth, she reaches down between her legs and slips her hand into her hot pink G-string. I breathe harshly, watching as she closes her eyes, rubs her pussy, and pumps her head.
I could dissipate.
“Keep going, don’t stop.” I urge her on as she sucks me harder, more frantically. Her hand moving more quickly as she squirms on the bed.
“Getting close. I can feel it.” I thrust into her tense mouth. The feeling indescribable. “Make yourself come. I want to feel you make yourself come.”
Tara expels a tortured little moan. It makes me want to rip off her panties so I can watch her finger herself, and as if she reads my mind, she pushes them aside completely exposing her shaved folds. She jams two fingers in and out of her soaking wet entrance with her right hand, while gripping my erection with her left, sucking savagely until she comes. Until she is breathing erratically, shaking wildly, and moaning loudly around my cock. It takes every ounce of control I have not to explode in her mouth. But if I am going to come anywhere tonight, it’s going to be in that sweet, soaked pussy as it milks me dry.
Once Tara’s tremors taper off, I pull out of her mouth. A little string of spit falling from the tip as she lays back on the bed.
I let her rest as I take off my clothes. Once I’ve discarded my shirt and pants, I take the liberty of removing her underwear. What little is left of the stretched out, saturated material.
“Don’t get comfortable. We’re not done yet.” I pull her up by the hand.
“I never said anything about being done.” She peers up at me.
Round two is right around the corner.
“I missed that mouth.” I run my thumb along her bottom lip.
“What else did you miss?” She flutters her eyelashes.
“Your eyes.”
Tara looks up at me surprised.
Not the answer she was expecting?
“I missed your laugh,” she tells me timidly. “And the way you used to make me laugh.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” I ask, holding her chin.
Tara nods.
“I missed that, too. The most. I promise while I’m here, I’ll make you laugh as much as I make you come.”
“That sounds good to me.”
I pull her to her feet and kiss her crazily. Running my hands through her hair until it’s a mess and our bodies are as close as they can possibly be.
“Go lean on the windowsill,” I tell her headily.
Along the entire length of the window in the bedroom is a ledge about a foot and a half deep. “Leave the boots on.”
Tara smiles puckishly. “You like?”
I grab the top part of the black boot that reaches halfway up her thigh. “I love. And I’m going to love them even more when I’m fucking you in them.” I tug roughly, kissing her. “Go.” I pull away and push her lightly.
I watch, glued in place as Tara saunters as seductively as possible across the room. Her skin picking up flecks of light from the reflection of the building in the window. She knows exactly what she’s doing. She knows exactly how to move and exactly how to excite me. Once she makes it to the window, she spreads her legs, bends over, and gazes back at me enticingly.
I nearly crack in two.
Jesus Christ. Nothing can get me harder than Tara’s eyes and the way they can seduce me. I grab my throbbing cock, knowing full well I’m not going to be able to control myself. I’m about to fuck her so hard, I’m going to break us both.
I grab a condom out of my wallet as quickly as I can; my insides buzzing with need and adrenaline.
I sheath myself as I walk up behind her. I’m heaving already, and I haven’t even touched her. I grab her hair and yank her head back, rubbing my erection between her wet folds.
“Tell me what I want to hear,” I snarl in her ear.
Tara doesn’t hesitate. “Fuck me.”
The words coil around my limbs. She said that to me the first night we were together. No faltering, no fear. That was the moment I realized there was more to Tara Stevens than meets the eye. More to the sweet, playful blonde she portrays herself to be.
I slide my hand from her hair down around her throat and hold on as I line up the head of my cock. She grips the windowsill in expectation. She knows what’s coming; we both do.
“Say it again,” I order her.
“Fuck me.” She’s fierce.
I slam into her, and we both gasp.
“Again.”
“Fuck me.”
I unleash, allowing the arousal I’ve been suppressing to take over. I beat into her, subduing her in place. A firm grasp on her neck and strong hold around her waist.
“Harder!” she demands as her muscles tighten around me. I thrust deeper, more powerfully, dispensing what we both want. Sheer chaos. It’s for only a few pulse-pounding seconds, but the buildup is monumental. A brutal force that has my head swimming and my arousal stirring. Fucking hell, you’d think I’ve never gotten laid before in my life the way I react to her.
“Oh, shit!” Tara slaps her hand against the window and moans animatedly, her body locking up. Her pussy throbbing so hard, it catapults me right over the edge.
I drive myself as deep as I can and fucking erupt with Tara convulsing in my arms. I’m shaking by the time the orgasm passes, barely able to stay on my feet. Tara slumps forward on the window and just breathes, close to comatose.
“Still in one piece?” I ask flippantly.
“Barely.” She grins.
“Next time, I’ll try harder to break you completely in two,” I assure her.
“Good. I like overachievers.”
“West Point graduate with honors. Hang on.” I remove the condom and drop it in the trash. I then pull her back and haul her into my arms. She sags dramatically, and I laugh.
“Here we go, sleeping beauty.” I place her on the bed, and she giggles. “I pricked my pussy on your cock, and now, I’m dead.”
I laugh harder. “Poor Disney princess. She got the short end of the stick with the spindle.”
“She sure did,” Tara agrees, looking up at me adorably from the pillow.
Before lying down, I grab a towel from the bathroom and wipe us both clean. Then I have a field day removing Tara’s boots. Just looking at them gets me hard. I unzip each one ridiculously slow, then tickle her feet once removed. Her laughter echoes around the room.
“CJ!” she squeals, rolling around on th
e bed. I’m relentless, holding both ankles together with one hand.
“Uncle! Uncle!” She can barely breathe.
I finally let up. “I told you I would make you laugh as much as I made you come.”
“Good to know you keep your promises.” She pulls at my arm, coaxing me to lie down beside her.
“That’s one thing I can say I do.” I nestle up to her, trailing my fingers along her naked body, reacquainting myself with her curves. “This is new.” I stop at the tattoo on the top of her thigh.
“I got it a few months ago.”
“What is it?”
“A few lines of the sheet music to one of my favorite songs.”
“Which is?”
““Stars” by Grace Potter.”
“Never heard of her.” I press my fingertips into the music notes dancing on her skin.
“She’s amazing.” Tara’s eyes sparkle. “Her voice is so soulful. It actually makes my spine tingle.”
“She sounds very talented.”
“She’s unreal,” Tara says star struck.
“You’ll have to play the song for me sometime.”
“I will.” She smiles, and it makes me melt. Sucker.
“What does this one mean?” She takes my forearm and flips it over.
“Airborne.” I explain what the saying ‘Death from Above’ and the skull wearing a beret means.
“Like Army stuff?”
“Yes, I was a paratrooper for the 82nd airborne division.”
“You jumped out of airplanes?”
“Yup, and I flew them.”
“Huh, I always wondered what that tattoo meant.”
“Why didn’t you just ask me?”
She shrugs. “We were keeping it light. I figured it had something to do with the military. I just didn’t know it was anything as cool as jumping out of airplanes.”
“That part was definitely cool.” I pull Tara closer and get comfortable.
“Tired, old man?” she teases.
“Tara,” I chastise her. It would be funny if it weren’t actually true. But I have ten years on her, and it’s never easy to forget that. Unless we’re fucking. I seem to forget everything while we’re fucking.
