Uncensored (The Manhattanites Book 7)

by Avery Aster

  “Hey, bitch. How’s rehab?”

  I laugh. “Rehab was fun. I’ve transitioned to a halfway house.”

  “Upgraded, have ya? To the Ritz Carlton?” she mutters in a grudging tone.

  “Wouldn’t that be nice…. What’s up?”

  “Listen, you know my talk show is owned by LUX media who prints HerSay magazine, right?”

  “Ah-huh.” I lean against the doorway to Juno’s room. “Save whatever you’re gonna say. I’m not selling you my magazine.”

  “That’s not why I’m calling.”

  “Oh?” I arch my back.

  “Apparently, HerSay has started a smear campaign against you. The first story releases tomorrow.”

  Rolling my eyes, I bite the inside of my left cheek before replying, “I don’t give a fuck.” I really don’t. Well, maybe a little bit. A smidge. “What’s the angle?”

  “I have no clue what it’s about or who’s heading this up, but it’s supposed to lower Debauchery’s value in the marketplace, thus giving my boss, Ash Balmain, the opportunity to buy you for cheap.”

  “What on God’s Earth could HerSay magazine possibly write about me that hasn’t already been exposed? Everyone in the world knows I shot my boyfriend when I was teenager.” He gay-bashed my bestie Blake and nearly put him in a coma. “That I gave up my baby for adoption.” I was fifteen and my mama told me I’d be cut off if I didn’t. Nice, right? That’s Mama for ya. “That I’m a recovering drug addict and alcoholic. Poppy, come on, honey. I have no secrets left to tell.”

  “You’ve met Ash, haven’t you?” She pauses for dramatic effect before adding, “He’s ruthless.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Ash Balmain is a gorgeous Wall Street executive who I heard fucks like Donkey Kong, is covered in ink, sports a Prince Albert, and is a complete and utter asshole. Albeit a hot one. Nevertheless, a royal a-hole. I can’t believe you took your talk show to that crazy network.”

  “Ash pays well.”

  “You sold your soul, honey.”

  “Oh shut up. I’m doing you a favor, giving you a heads-up.”

  Shifting my weight from my left foot to my right, I release a long breath of annoyance. “I appreciate that, Poppy. I really do, but the only thing on my mind right now is tomatoes.”

  “Liar!”

  My lips curve into a tight smile. “And sex.”

  “Now we’re talking.”

  “You know, I do miss you. I never thought I would, but I do.”

  “I know you do. I’m not like the rest of your Manhattanite friends who take your bullshit with a golden shovel up their ass. I tell you how it is. That’s why you love me.”

  “Yes, I love you. And if I were a lesbian, you and I would be a very hawt item.”

  Poppy came out of the closet a few years ago. Rumors has it she pulled the gay card as a PR stunt to compete with Ellen’s TV show, but she seems to really enjoy herself, so who knows.

  “I’m not a lesbian. I’m bisexual. Sissy and I broke up a few weeks ago. I have a boyfriend now.”

  “Oh spare me.”

  “I’m serious. Sissy moved out.”

  “Sorry to hear that, Poppy. I liked her for you. She kept you in line. Jesus and Mary, I can never keep up with you and your love life.” Since college Poppy’s been engaged about ten times. Coming from Pittsburgh with fifty bucks in her pocket, she’s a self-made media mogul. It didn’t hurt that she only dated movie stars and powerful executives who could advance her career. But I don’t blame Poppy. Everyone wants something from her—sex, money, fame. It must get exhausting after a while.

  “And you never will. Listen, can you accept visitors?”

  “Ah-huh. You wanna come out to the Shull farm?” I glance out Juno’s bedroom window toward the main house. The lights in the dining room are on, shadows filling the windows. They must still be eating.

  “Text me the address. I’ll be there tomorrow. We can go over LUX’s proposal for Debauchery.”

  “Are you deaf? Or just dumb?” I snap. “I’m not selling you the magazine.”

  “Zip it, bitch. Keep an open mind. When you see how much Ash is willing to pay, you’ll thank me,” she insists. Her confidence annoys the hell outta me. If there’s one thing I know about Poppy, she’s always on the money. The woman can smell the green from miles away.

  “I doubt it.” My voice breaks. “You know my family is worth like eight hundred million dollars. And I’m personally worth at least a hundred of that.”

  “In your dreams, sweetie.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Bye, love.”

  The pipes in the house that made a loud pressure sound as Rod showered suddenly shut off. I hear the bathroom door from downstairs open.

  “What are you doing up there?” he shouts impatiently. For a second I imagine his warm brown eyes upon mine and a warm sensation overtakes me.

  “Coming.” As I walk down the stairs, I notice he’s dimmed the lighting in his bedroom.

  “All clean.” He turns around to face me with a smirk, much like the one I imagined he’d be sporting on his handsome face.

  “Expecting sex, are you?” I cross my arms.

  “Nah. More like romance.”

  “Such a smooth talker.”

  He drops his towel.

  My eyes widen in surprise.

  “Close the door.”

  Without giving it a second thought, I slam it shut. Leaning against the door, the knob pokes me in the butt.

  “Scared?”

  I nod. “There’s hung, and then there’s freaky-deaky. And you, my friend, are the latter.”

  Pretty As Fuck

  Vive

  In one swift stride he steps closer, the distance between us gone. The smell of his soapy body hits my nostrils as his glistening muscles fill my vision. I want to lick him from head to toe.

  “I’ll be gentle.” His lips—full, wet, and warm—take mine in a searing kiss.

  Pressing my breasts into his rock-hard chest, I lower my hands over his ass and give his cheeks a playful squeeze.

  He chuckles. “You don’t seem nervous.”

  “I’m good at faking it.”

  “Be real with me tonight.” He pulls back, making eye contact with me. The sincere look on his face says no games.

  “Deal.” I run my palms over his pecs. “Love your body.”

  I lift my arms and he takes off my blouse. I’m not wearing a bra.

  His eyes fixate on my tits. “Love your body more.”

  “You love curves?” I ask.

  “Very much so.” He takes my left breast in his right hand, lowering his face toward my other nipple and giving it a quick playful tug with his lips.

  My breath hitches and, for the first time in a long time, the inside of my body heats up.

  “Sensitive?” he asks, then begins to suck on the other nipple.

  Like a cat, I arch my back, pressing into him. He lifts me over his shoulders and carries me to the bed, throwing me on it like a ragdoll. I bounce on the mattress and gaze up at him, his massive cock hard and in my face.

  One hand playing with my hair, he runs the other palm over my face. “So pretty. You know that, don’t you?”

  “It’s always nice to be reminded.”

  “You’re beautiful, Vive.”

  “Thank—”

  His lips come over mine, swallowing my words.

  It’s been so long since I’ve been told by a man—especially one who’s tall, dark, and handsome like Rod—that I’m pretty.

  Stroking himself, he steps back.

  On the edge of the bed, I sit up, allowing my feet to hit the floor. Wanting his cock in my mouth, I lick my lips playfully. “Gimme.”

  When he leans toward me, I run my right hand gently over his shaft.

  His body quivers as he closes his eyes, resting his hands on my shoulders.

  Mmmm. I lick the slit at the top of his mushroom tip and then stiffen my tongue, jabbing playfully at the opening to tast
e his precum. Flattening my tongue, I take the entire head of his cock in my mouth.

  Mmm. I love the way this man tastes. Clean. Soapy. Sexy.

  Mine.

  “That’s it, Vive. Take me. All of me.” He presses against my face. “Open that mouth, pretty girl.”

  “Pretty girl?” I repeat, liking that nickname.

  “My pretty girl,” he insists, and that warm glowing sensation from earlier bubbles deep inside me.

  I lick once more before fully taking him in my mouth. My eyes sting with tears as a pull back and push forward again.

  His moans, masculine and deep, snarl louder, motivating me to move faster, deeper. I suck tightly, pulling his cock from my lips before taking him deep until he fills my mouth. I tug gently on his nuts as his pubic hair tickles my nose.

  “Fuck yes. That’s it. Feels so good. Don’t stop.” His hips rock back and forth. Just when I think he’s about to come, he pulls back. Reaching down for my legs, he lifts them in the air, pushing me onto my back.

  I gaze up at him. “I’m on the pill.” I don’t know why; it’s not like I’ve been having sex.

  Well, Taddy and I both take the pill for our complexion. Yes, pure vanity reasons.

  “I’m clean. No STDs here,” he states. “Haven’t been with anyone since my last physical.”

  “Same here.”

  “Good, pretty girl. Good.” He spreads my legs wide and buries his face between my folds.

  “Oh God.” I don’t think I can take it, him eating me out like that again. It’s too much.

  His head bobs up for a second and he murmurs, “Your pretty pussy matches your pretty face, pretty girl.”

  I bite down on my lower lip to stifle the laugh, then grab the nearest pillow to cover my face as he goes in for round two. Stars, bright and pink, cross over my eyelids. “Fuuuck. You’re gonna make me come. And so soon too. Oh Rod!”

  “Good, pretty girl.” His warm tongue jabs at my cunt like a spear. His fingers, thick and long, take turns between the tongue lashings.

  Tongue in. Tongue out. Finger in. Finger out.

  “Fuck me already. I can’t hold out any longer.”

  “Come for me, then, pretty girl. Come all over my fucking face. I love the way you taste. Come now, dammit!”

  I wrap my legs tightly around his shoulders and tug his hair fiercely. “Oh yes. I’m coming. Fuuuck.”

  “Squirt for me. That’s it.”

  Oh. My. God.

  He wipes his face on a pillowcase, then comes up to kiss me.

  “You’re perverse,” I declare. “I’ve never met a man who likes it when a woman, you know….”

  “Squirts?” He smiles. “I fucking love it. Now it’s my turn to come.”

  Adjusting my hips with his, I feel the tip of his dick at my core. Holding his shaft, he brushes over my pussy. Once. Twice.

  “Shove it in.”

  “Talk pretty.”

  “Please, Rod. Just fuck me.”

  “I like to tease.” I laugh and he smirks. “Once I start, I won’t be able to stop until I come. You ready for me, pretty girl?”

  I roll my eyes. I’ve heard that a million times. Men think their cock is unique, special.

  Slowly he slides into me, his smile widening.

  “Jesus, Rod. You’re hung.” I didn’t think his cock could get any bigger, but it feels as if it’s growing inside of me. “Fat dick.”

  “That’s what you’re gonna call me?” He laughs.

  “What do they usually call you?” I ask. Not that I care. Because I don’t.

  “On the courts, I’m known as the grunt.”

  “Oh brother.” I hold onto his shoulders as he picks up speed.

  “You’ll soon see why.” He pulls out and flips me over. He places my hands on the headboard and orders, “Hold on. Don’t let go.”

  Stretching my body, I grip the headboard like my life depends on it.

  “I love doggy style. Don’t you?”

  “Ah-huh.”

  Let’s get real here. I love any style. Missionary, standing, doggy—I’ll take it.

  I lift my chin and smile back at him, egging him on to get wild with me.

  His cock, long and thick, fills me once more. Guiding my hips to rock in unison with his, he shifts his weight off my back so as not to crush me. He settles into a push-up position, then out of nowhere starts to jackhammer my vagina.

  I’m holding on to the headboard for dear life when his warm breath caresses my ear.

  “Fuck yes, pretty girl,” he growls deeply, ending in a grunt.

  WTF! I look back at him in shock.

  He grunts again, burying his cock balls-deep inside me. “I love the way my bare skin feels against yours. So hot. So good.”

  Like one, we fit together. I can’t remember sex ever feeling quite like this. I can see how women, especially tennis fans, fall madly and deeply in love with Rod. What’s not to love?

  “Ohhhh. I’m gonna come again,” I squeal, but will myself to fight it.

  He pulls out, turns me over onto my backside, and looks down at me. His stare is intense and shockingly loving. “I want to look you in the eye while you come this time.”

  Clasping his face in my hands, I do my best to keep my eyes open as I orgasm for a second time. His thrusts slow to a shallow pace while my climax shudders through me.

  Just as I finish, he picks up speed, planting that cock of his deep inside the well of my flesh. His grunts, primal like an animal grow louder as the bed, slams up against the wall. “Yes. That’s it, Vive, my pretty girl. Yeah, baby.” His warm seed fills me as he covers my mouth with his. Pulling back, he stares into my eyes as if he can see all the way to my soul. As he drains the last of himself inside me, his lips lightly touch mine and he mutters, “I love you, pretty girl.”

  I’m speechless. That’s just his dick talking… right?

  I wrap my arms around his shoulders, holding on to him.

  His eyes narrow. “Did you hear me?”

  Oh Jesus. “Loud and clear.”

  “I mean it.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.

  “No.”

  “Vive, stop.”

  “No, you stop. I’m not one of your groupies you can toy with.” I sit up, glaring at him.

  “Groupies? What are you talking about? I can count on one hand how many women I’ve slept with.”

  I grip his jaw firmly, turning his face sideways to highlight his profile. “Well, your nose isn’t growing, Pinocchio.”

  “Very funny.” His throws a sheet over his midsection and puts a pillow behind his back. “I’m serious.”

  “I haven’t been with that many people either,” I lie. Lord knows if I told him the truth he’d think I was some whore. “If you must know, you’re the first guy to ever make me come like that twice in one night.”

  Now that is the utter truth.

  Hoping to steer the topic away from love, I compliment him. “You’re talented. Sorry if I assumed you were a man whore. It’s just that you’re that good.”

  “Am I now?” He removes the sheet, his cock rock hard again.

  “I need a minute to catch my breath.”

  “I’ll start counting back from sixty.”

  We fuck again. Or, as he likes to call it, make love. Not once more, but three times. Our roommates came home, but we just keep screwing into the dawn. It was off-the-charts crazy.

  I must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing I know Juno is knocking at the door.

  “Vive you better come out here.” Juno’s voice wakes me.

  “What is it?” I sit up, yawning from my sex hangover.

  “Just get out here. Now.”

  Rod isn’t in the bed next to me. “Where’s Rod?” I call out.

  “Probably hiding!”

  “Hiding from what?” I get to my feet, throw on the clothes I wore yesterday, and step out into the living room.

  She holds up this morning’s copy
of HerSay magazine.

  My face is plastered across the cover. I step closer. “That’s a photo from the other day.”

  “Looks like someone here took it of you.”

  I turn to page seventeen, sporting the headline “Fat & Sober”. The first few sentences read “From fit and fabulous to fat and nearly unrecognizable, founder of Debauchery magazine moves into a halfway house to try and get her life in order. Meanwhile, no one at the tomato farm can recognize her. These recent photos reveal she’s put on nearly a hundred pounds. Her roommates say she’s eating them out of house and home.”

  “I spoke with Laird and Suzanne. They didn’t do it,” Juno whispers.

  “Then who did?”

  “Roddick.”

  “No way.”

  “Yes way. Makes complete sense, don’t you think? After what he said in therapy yesterday about you ruining his life and all.”

  “But we just—”

  “Fucked,” she finishes.

  “Made love,” I correct her. “I can’t believe I’m so dumb. He really went out of his way last night to make me feel special.”

  “Athletes tend to do that. Anything to get the win, right?”

  I throw myself on the sofa and hug a pillow. “I don’t know what to do say.”

  “Laird told me, to tell you, he’d switch rooms with you, so you can be upstairs with Suzanne and me. You should have some space between you and Rod. At least for a while.” She holds up the coffee pot. “Want some?”

  I shake my head. “I feel sick.”

  The front door opens and Rod walks in. He’s sweaty, probably from another run.

  “Morning, Juno.” He takes the cup of coffee from her and sips it. “Thanks.” Walking toward me with his arms wide, he leans down and tries to give me a kiss. My hand goes up, not giving him the chance.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “What?”

  Juno excuses herself, heading outside.

  Once she’s out of sight, I throw the magazine at him.

  “Dammit.” His eyes gloss over. “I didn’t think Ash would do this.”

  “Mr. Balmain? You’re the one who’s been working with him on the new smear campaign.”

  He nods. “I was going to call him this morning and tell him I wanted to back out. I couldn’t go through with it. I’m starting to have feelings for you.”

  I scoff. “Spare me.”