by Eva Luxe
“Yes,” he finally said. “I have a project I’d like you to take over. Come in.”
I sat in the chair across from his desk.
“We just acquired a property. It looks residential, but it’s actually commercial, and I’d like you to manage it.”
He handed me a folder with an inch of paper in it. I opened it, and saw that most of them were photographs of a grand-looking historical mansion on the other side of town.
“Does it need developing?” I asked, looking up from the paperwork. “I mean, what are you hoping to do with it?”
“Just managing,” Gary said. “I’m hoping to rent it out for film shoots, get a foot in the door with the studios. It’s a valuable connection to a whole new set of clientele. I need you to go check it out, no later than this week.”
“Okay.” I shrugged. It wouldn’t take up that much of my time, and Elaine would probably do most of the paperwork for me. “I’ll get out there in a day or two. It might have to be after hours. Where do I get the keys?”
“Bianca has them. Tell her I said she needs to make you a copy and one for the office.”
I delivered the message to Bianca. “Let me know how it is,” she said. “I want to do a spread there so that the right people see it. I’m thinking celebrity weddings, so when you inspect it, keep that in mind. Service space, reception area, the usual.”
“Sure,” I said, then returned to my office. I wasn’t going to stand around chatting with her, but I could respect that she had a job to do. And if the mansion really did look like these photos, celebrity weddings were actually a great idea.
I had just reopened my spreadsheet when I had an inspiration. I dug my phone out of my pocket and texted Chrissy.
What are you doing tomorrow night?
*****
I went out to inspect a job site, making sure to mention to Gary that I’d head from there to the new property so he didn’t expect me back at the office. Gary was enough of a control freak that if I weren’t at my desk at 4:59, he’d call my cell to ask why.
I left the site, stopped to get a couple of bottles of wine and some food, and drove across town to the mansion. It felt like it took forever to get there, but finally I was able to park in the carriage drive along the side of the house.
The first thing I did was check the outdoor security. If we were going to have celebrity weddings here, security would need to be top notch. But also, Chrissy was meeting me here in a few minutes, and I needed to know if her dad would see her arrival on security tapes.
There were cameras, but they weren’t connected to a service, so they were basically waiting to be activated. In other words, Chrissy’s father would never know she was here.
I grabbed the food and wine from the car and brought it into the kitchen, which was where the side entrance opened into. I set everything down on a counter and then looked around. I probably just had time for a walk-through before Chrissy arrived.
About twenty minutes later, I’d barely even seen all the rooms, but I had to hurry down to meet Chrissy. If first impressions were anything to go by, Bianca was right about this property. It was going to be more of an asset for us than I had expected.
I flung open the kitchen door, and there she was. God, she was stunning. She wore a short pink sundress with high sandals, showing off her long, tan legs, and some kind of chunky necklace and earrings. They just made her neck look slender and smooth.
She was looking me up and down too, and smiled. “I never get over seeing you in a suit and tie. I feel like we’re playing grown-ups sometimes.”
“You look amazing,” I said. I cleared my throat. “Come on in. I can’t wait to show you this place!”
“So, what exactly is it again?”
“It’s going to be a venue,” I said, and explained the plans that Gary and Bianca had outlined. “Film locations, weddings, charity balls—oh, crap, you have to see the ballroom!”
She laughed in delight. “There’s a ballroom?”
I dragged her in there and hit the lights. A half dozen chandeliers lit up over the polished wood floor. The edges of the room held cocktail tables, which at the moment were shoved and stacked against the walls, but I could picture them with flowers and those glowy light things that you saw in gardens sometimes. The far end held one long, carved bar, and there were ancillary bars pushed against the walls.
“Ohhhhh!” Chrissy breathed. I led her out to the dance floor, and suddenly, stupidly, I wished I could dance, that I could waltz her around like we were in Beauty and the Beast or something.
I started to pull her into my arms anyway, and all I could think of to do was that middle-school rocking back and forth thing, but she said, “Hang on.”
She pulled the purse from across her body and took her phone out, pushed some buttons, and set it down on the floor.
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s not very loud.”
The song from that movie, Ghost, came on, and she came into my arms. She laid her head on my chest and my arms wrapped around her back. And we really did sway back and forth. For a magical three minutes or so, we just held each other and rocked in time to the music, beneath the crystal chandeliers.
The song ended and we stood there leaning on each other for a few moments. We fit perfectly together. Then the beat picked up and I stepped away from her, intending to suggest that we explore another room, but she gave me wicked look, grabbed up her phone, and ran away from me, toward the long bar at the other end of the room.
I followed at a leisurely pace. Her impulsiveness was amusing, but the sheer joy in life behind it was exciting. Chrissy climbed on the bar.
“Hey, what are you—”
But the notes of “Cherry Pie” blared out of her phone, and she started to dance.
How had I forgotten that when we were kids she’d taken years of dance classes, and she was a cheerleader. Right now the rocking beat of the song was back up to Chrissy’s rockin’ moves, all along the bar that was her only stage. I suddenly wanted to really be there, where a hundred men wanted her, but she only danced for me.
The song ended, and she sat down at the edge of the bar, a little sweaty and out of breath. “I haven’t really danced like that in ages!” she said. “What did you think?”
“I think you’re the hottest woman on the fucking planet,” I said.
She leaned toward me. “Do you?”
“Yeah.”
She leaned back across the bar and flipped her skirt up. She was wearing lacy black panties, and when she spread her legs wider I could see they were crotchless. She gave me an “I dare you” kind of look, so what could I do? I bent over, pushed her skirt back, and bit the inside of her thigh.
She yelped and laughed. I smiled against her skin and started kissing my way up to her center. I parted her lips with my fingers and flicked my tongue against her, just lightly. She gasped and pushed against me, but I continued to tease her for a few minutes—she wasn’t the only one who had moves.
“Dammit, Adam,” she panted. “Stop teasing me!”
I laughed and plunged my tongue inside her pussy. She cried out and thrust her pelvis, then I licked up the center and swirled my tongue around her clit. I pushed two fingers into her dripping wet pussy and curved them so they were pressing against her g-spot.
“God, Adam!” she screamed. “Fuck!”
I sucked her clit and finger fucked her harder, pushing a third finger into her. She clenched my hair and ground into my face, and came on my fingers and tongue. She was so wet it dripped down my hand when I pulled it back.
Her hands slid out of my hair and dropped limply to her side. I pressed gentle kisses against her thighs and mound and waited for her to get her breath back. After a few minutes, I pulled her up by one of her hands.
“Want to see more, or are you hungry?”
“You want me to move?”
“Yeah.”
She exhaled and slid off the bar. Her knees buckled, but I caught her. I was so damn hard—watching
Chrissy come was the most erotic, exciting thing I’d ever done. But I was going to make this evening all about her, so I tried to control myself.
“You brought food?”
“Yeah. And wine.”
“Wow, what a man!” Her teasing tone told me she was recovering from her orgasm. “Let’s look around some more. What else is there?”
“Ah, well…there’s a music room, back out that way. Want to see it?”
“Sure!”
The music room was smaller, of course, but it was a pretty good size in itself. A grand piano, a full-sized harp, and a few other instruments were covered in white cloth and pushed back against the walls. This would be a great place for elite, high dollar concerts, or even smaller, more intimate weddings.
“Is that a drum set over there?” she asked, nodding to one white-covered lump in the corner.
“Let’s see.” I untied the covering and worked it off. It was a drum set, a really nice full kit that must have cost someone a couple thousand dollars. I found the sticks and sat on the stool. I hadn’t played in years, since my college classes had gotten hard and basically taken over my life, but I hadn’t forgotten everything.
I tapped out a few simple sequences, then moved on to some more complex arrangements. Yeah, it definitely came back.
“You’re good!” Chrissy shouted over the noise. “Can you keep it up?”
I wasn’t sure what she meant. “I suppose.”
“Okay,” she said. “Don’t stop. Don’t even miss a beat.”
“Um…okay…”
She came around to my side of the kit, ducked under my arm, and knelt in front of me. Spreading my knees, she scooted between them and started to undo my belt. I almost did miss a beat when I realized what she had planned, but she’d dared me, so I had to at least give it a good try. She unbuttoned and unzipped my work slacks and opened up the front as far as it would go.
“Black underwear?” She looked up at me. I just nodded; I was still trying not to miss a beat on the drums. I think I kept playing the same sequence over and over. She pulled the front of my briefs down, and my cock sprung out. It felt great; it’d been trying to get out ever since I saw her.
She wrapped a hand around the base, and then lowered her mouth over the rest of it. She mmmm’d a little—sounding like she loved nothing better than having a cock in her mouth. The vibration of it hummed through me.
“Ah, fuck, baby,” I moaned. I just wanted to tip my head back, or grab her shoulders, or something, but I kept playing the drums. I struck up a beat, and she started bobbing her head to it, creating a rhythm that was going to kill me. It was like she was pulling the cum up, sucking it up from my thighs and legs, along with the drumbeat.
She dipped her head to push her tongue down onto my balls. She didn’t have total access with my pants still mostly on, but she licked and squeezed the top side of them while my cock rubbed against her face.
Then her mouth came over me again, so fucking hot and wet, and I tried to keep playing, but the sticks hit the floor as I thrust into her mouth. “Yeah, take it, baby,” I moaned, grabbing her shoulders. “Suck it. Fuck yeah.”
Little moans were coming out of her mouth and vibrating against my cock. I was on a razor’s edge of pleasure, every touch and vibration a cut of ecstasy, and finally I came into her mouth, spurting down her throat, and overflowing down her chin and onto her neck and chest. She kept sucking until I was done, then let me collapse onto her. We both fell onto the floor.
I turned over so that she was on top of me—I’m a pretty big guy and she’s kind of petite. “You are amazing,” I said. Not super poetic, but I was still after-shocking from the best orgasm I had ever had. “Most women won’t do that.”
She laughed. “I like cock,” she said simply. “I love to suck it, and most guys don’t let me.” She met my eyes and wiped the cum off her chin.
“They. Are. Idiots,” I said fervently.
“Agreed.” She lifted her head and reached over, and when she drew her head back, I saw that she had one of the drumsticks. “I just love a big, thick cock, thrusting down my throat.”
She closed her mouth over the drumstick and began to suck it. It wasn’t as thick as I was, but her eyes closed in ecstasy. The drumstick was braced next to my face, and it was like she was sucking another guy while she was lying on top of me. It was a fucking hot image, but I grasped her hips under the pink sundress. No fucking way was anyone else getting that mouth on him. Only me.
She started grinding against my bulge, which had slipped back under my underwear.
“Careful!” I hissed. “Pretty sensitive at the moment.”
“Oh, poor baby,” she mocked. She rolled off me, took the drumstick, and inserted it into her pussy, thick end first. “Yeah, there it is.” She arched her back and moaned. Then she withdrew it and ran it up and down her clit, before plunging it back into herself.
“Why don’t you suck my tits?” she suggested.
I was twenty-six years old, in great shape, totally self-confident, and I could not keep up with this girl. I rolled over and pulled her sundress down and took one of her nipples in my mouth. God it tasted good, and I don’t even know how it was possible, but I was totally hard again.
I turned my head slightly so I could still suck her while I watched her. I’d kick the ass of any guy who tried to fuck her, but watching her turn herself on with a drumstick in her pussy while I acted like her fucking sex slave was incredibly hot. When she moved her hand down there to play with her clit, I almost exploded.
I sucked her while she played with herself and fucked herself with the drumstick, and it only took her a few minutes to come. I crawled over her, wanting to fuck her again, because I was bigger than that fucking toy, and I wanted her.
“Come on, baby,” I whispered in her ear, trying to nudge her knees apart. “Let me in.”
She kissed my cheek and grinned. “No, I don’t think so. I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”
How the fuck was her denial of me, her teasing and refusing me, even more arousing? How did it get me hotter than I already was?
No idea, but I stood up and led her into the kitchen where I’d stashed the food and wine. And if she thought she held all the power in this relationship, she had another thing coming.
Chapter 9 – Chrissy
If I thought I could take back control of this relationship through some well-timed oral sex, Adam showed me different. I was kind of baffled— it had always worked before. A guy gets too demanding, too needy, too…I don’t know, pushy, and all I had to do was remind him that if he wanted some occasional mind-blowing orgasms, he’d remember who was in charge.
Adam was secure enough to let me take the lead, but he was proud enough that he insisted on calling the shots sometimes too. He wasn’t a control freak—he trusted me. That was a great feeling, because I’d never wanted or needed that from a man before. But he demanded that I trust him too—and that was a little harder, because with the single exception of my brother Jack, no man I’d ever met had proved that he could be trusted.
But Adam was Jack’s best friend for a reason, and in matters of character and rock-solid dependability, they were very much alike.
I could trust him.
So, once we’d eaten, and I knew he was still hella horny, he stood up and said, “Let me show you something.”
He took my hand and led me through a short hallway with shelves on either side. It ended in a doorway, and he pulled me through it. It led to a small suite—a bedroom with four twin beds, unmade and dusty, and a bathroom and not much else.
“These were the servants’ quarters when this was first built,” he explained. “The kitchen maids slept here, so that they could get up very early without disturbing anyone else. By the time the family got up, they’d have breakfast ready, coffee or hot tea, and have started anything they needed for lunch or dinner. They were very smart and strong, and very, very obedient.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Obedient? They must
’ve hated that.”
“Probably.” He nodded slowly and stepped toward me.
“So…” I said, “if this were your house, I’d have to obey you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Hmmm…” I pressed against him. “And what kinds of things would you make me do?”
“I don’t know,” he murmured. “But if the master of the house crawled into bed with you in the middle of the night, you couldn’t do much about it.”
“I’d probably be irritated that I was losing sleep!”
He laughed. “But I’m the master, so you have to do what I say.”
“Okay, master.” I rolled my eyes to show him how seriously I wasn’t taking all this.
“Very nice.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Take off your dress.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said, take off your dress. You’re the servant, aren’t you?”
If I hadn’t seen the mischievous gleam in his eye, I might have resisted more. Or given him a right hook across his jaw—Jack taught me how to defend myself. But, well…I had just blue-balled him in the music room. And if the tentpole in the front of his trousers was any indication, he was still feeling it.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
I started undoing the buttons down the front of my sundress. Soon, I stood before him in the underwear I’d put on specifically for him—crotchless black lace panties, black lacy bra with the nipples cut out, and my high-heeled sandals.
“Good girl,” Adam murmured.
I loved looking sexy, and in my trashy lingerie with my heels on, I knew I did. Most college boys would have been coming against my leg by now, but Adam just stood looking down at me. I wished I could read his expression—I was hoping the intensity of it meant that he wanted me, but honestly, I couldn’t tell.
“What would you like me to do now, sir?” I prompted him.
He reached out a hand and stroked my face. I wasn’t expecting it, and it was so tender that I closed my eyes and turned my face into his hand. He paused, then continued his caress down my throat and shoulder, then down to my breast and exposed nipple. He touched it gently, then bent his head and kissed it, and finally took it lightly into his mouth.
