Taming Mr. Flirt

by A. m Madden

  Desiree smiled at the woman and apologized for me. “Can we please change the subject?”

  Changing the subject was fine by me. I woke up horny, which wasn’t in itself unusual. The dreams starring a certain wisecracking Canadian were what had me freaked out. Sex dreams were normal occurrences for me, as was the method of how I handled them. But the men who came to life through my vibrator were always faceless.

  “Cassie, why don’t you start? How’s school going?”

  Our sweet friend let out a sigh just as our waiter brought our meals and my second mimosa. Before he could retreat, I snagged his wrist and whispered, “Honey, keep them coming.” He nodded with a huge grin and walked away. Three sets of eyes stared at me and forced me to ask, “What?”

  Des spoke up. “Keep them coming?”

  “They’re mostly juice. Relax, Mom,” I said knowing damn well the reason I hoped to catch a buzz was to stop thinking about a certain Canadian for a while.

  “Anyway…” Cassie said in a sharp tone at my interruption. “It’s great. You know I love my kids. They’re like little sponges waiting to soak up every bit of knowledge I’m willing to share with them. In a way, I envy them. Their lives are a clean slate, ready to be shaped into whatever it is they want to be. They haven’t been tainted.” She beamed. “One student told me he wanted to be a teacher one day. Who knows what he will do, but just hearing that makes all of the stress worth it.”

  “That’s wonderful, Cass.” Brae smiled at her. “What about you, V? Is your scrooge of a boss any better?”

  “No. He’s still a Grade A douchebag.” I glanced at grandma sitting next to us and shrugged. “Enough about me today, trust me when I say my life isn’t exciting. What about you, Des? Any juicy stories?”

  She placed a strawberry in her mouth and rolled her eyes. “Your boss has nothing on this loser that’s divorcing one of our clients. Married men suck.” Brae’s eyes popped open. “Please, this man is nothing like Jude. No, this guy, has a five-strand comb-over, a keg rather than a six-pack, and is shorter than I am. And get this, he filed for divorce after twenty years of marriage because he felt his wife was hindering his love life.” Cassie snort-laughed. Des waved her fork in the air before piercing a grape with it. “It gets better. When we left court, this jackass drove away in his little red sports car with a vanity plate that read, D-O-U-L-8-R.”

  The three of us sat there and mouthed the letters trying to figure out what the hell it stood for. Then Cassie snapped her fingers in the air. I swear if there was a game show buzzer on the table, she would have pressed it. “Do you later!”

  Brae’s nose crinkled. “Gross.”

  “Right?” Des mimicked Brae’s expression. “Trust me, his wife was a warrior sticking with him for as long as she did.”

  Cassie snickered and in a breathy voice said, “Aaand Warrior One.” I shook my head, wondering where my third mimosa was.

  “Oh, Cass, you sound just like a yogi. Speaking of, how was class yesterday? I can’t wait to go next week.” Brae beamed.

  I wanted to smack the enthusiasm right out of her right after I smacked Cassie and her big mouth.

  Des laughed. “Well, since you asked.” She glanced at me. “Would you like to explain, Vanessa?”

  “Sure.” Cutie came back with my cocktail. After a long steady stream flowed down my throat, I smiled. “We need to find a different yoga studio.”

  Brae’s eyebrows drew together. “Wait, why? I loved it there.” Her eyes cut to me. “V, what happened?”

  “Ready? Keep up.” I drained the rest of my mimosa and ticked off on my fingers, starting with my thumb. “Date with a cheating, lying bastard.” Movement beside us had our heads turning toward Grandma as she dragged the kiddies out of the booth and away from us. My pointer finger joined my thumb, and with each statement the other fingers followed in succession. “Condom packet sent his wedding band flying in the air and landing at my feet… I recapped how I kicked him out to these two… Cassie swore… the sound of a gong… then Des swore and fell on her ass… another gong, co-eds shushing us pissed me off… I told them all to fuck off. Grabbed my mat, shouted namaste, and parked my ass on the curb and waited twenty minutes for these two to come out.” Twelve fingers later, I glanced at Brae who was staring at me open mouthed while blinking. “So now you know why we got kicked out.”

  “I’ve been thinking about this, Brae.” Desiree paused for effect. “We know you love your yoga, but maybe for the sake of V’s sanity, we switch to kickboxing?”

  “Yes! I would love to kick someone’s ass on a weekly basis. Let’s do that!” The mimosas caused my voice to amplify, and soon enough the rest of the restaurant was glaring at me much like Grandma had earlier.

  “Absolutely not.” Brae shook her head adamantly. “I can only imagine the havoc that would ensue putting you in a kickboxing class.”

  Whatever.

  Chapter 7

  Vanessa

  As I had done for the past nine years, I spent my morning flipping through the pages of a scrapbook that commemorated our life together. At the time I made it, I had no idea it would be all I had left of him. Concert tickets, photos of us together, his pledge pin, a few goofy notes that he’d tucked into my textbooks or left on my pillow all caused the flood of sorrow to hit like a ton of bricks. Once I studied the last page, I slammed it shut and shoved it back into my drawer, not to be looked at again until next year.

  Besides my memoriam, my only other mission today was to ignore the date and what had happened that night that forever changed my life. Although I pretended to be annoyed at my friend, Cassie’s idea for Halloween provided the perfect distraction.

  The costume shop was packed with last minute Halloween procrastinators. I stepped out of the dressing room, and a small pack of college-aged guys swung their gazes my way.

  “How’s this?” The short black skirt lifted and fluttered around my toned upper thighs as I gracefully twirled in my stilettos for the audience watching me.

  “A French maid?” Cassie’s eyes narrowed. “I thought we were going as a group? We can’t all be maids, that’s not fun.”

  A few of the handsome faces lifted their brows and nodded in approval. “They seem to like it,” I quipped, wiggling my fingers in a flirty wave.

  Cassie turned and only then realized we were being watched. “Focus, V. We don’t have much time. What other options do we have?”

  Noticing the pale pink satiny ears that poked up among the other costumes, I snapped my fingers. “I got it! How about we all go as a different color Playboy Bunny? We’d look really Hefner-worthy in those.”

  “I second that.” A deep, Italian voice came from behind the stand of Star Wars costumes. Like a magic trick, the appearance of his tall frame sent the gawking frat boys in opposite directions.

  “Hey. You’re cheating,” Cassie accused Luca as he stepped closer holding a rental agreement in his hand.

  “I was here first. Maybe you’re the ones who are cheating.” His eyes darted around us. “Where’s the rest of your clique?”

  “After having a few mimosas, Vanessa announced she would be point person in charge of costumes, they elected me as a chaperone. Why are you the only one here?”

  “You heard Jude. He doesn’t trust Kyle.” Luca thumbed toward me. “No more than you guys trusting her.”

  My fists went to my hips. “Excuse me, I’m right here.” These two were killing my buzz. “And now that the Italian Stallion saw this costume, and heard about the bunny option, they’re a no go.”

  “Don’t change your mind on my account. Plus, if Kyle sees the four of you as Playboy Bunnies, I think he’d bust a nut.” His eyes connected with mine, but it was his smirk that suggested his comment was meant for me. “Actually, if he saw you in this, he’d bust more than a nut,” he added, confirming my suspicions.

  I looked down, imagining modeling my sexy costume for him. His hands would travel up my legs, reach the ruffled bloomers, and tear them off with
one swift yank. The visual sent a jolt zipping through me.

  “Anyway, I’m out of here. This place is giving me a headache.” Luca flipped his free hand in the air. “Ciao, ladies, and choose wisely because our costumes kick ass. Mmmm. I can taste those free drinks already.”

  “Why? What are you guys going to be?” Cassie smiled coyly at Luca.

  “Nice try, but my lips are sealed. I will leave you both to it.”

  We waited until Luca was gone. “Seriously, V. What are we going to wear? We need to win. I refuse to lose to the guys. They will never let us live it down.”

  Cassie had a point. Plus, I hated to lose. “Be right back, I got this.” With a purposeful stride and the perfect sway in my hips, I started for the registers. Ignoring the small line of customers, I focused on the nerdy looking cashier.

  “Excuse me.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the cool glass counter. He glanced up in annoyance until he saw my ruffle framed cleavage. I waited until his eyes came back to mine and gave him a seductive smile.

  Before I had a chance to ask my question, a woman behind me barked, “There is a line, you know.”

  Not giving her my attention, I reached out and placed a hand over his. “You just helped a friend of mine. Do you remember that tall man with an accent who was just in here?”

  “Yes,” he replied quickly.

  “Can you tell me what Star Wars character he decided on? I want to surprise him and pick one that will complement his.”

  A confused look crossed over his face. “Star Wars? I’m pretty sure he decided on superheroes.”

  “Oh, so maybe you have a Mary Jane costume? Isn’t that who Spiderman shacked up with?”

  “You’d be better off choosing Lois Lane. I think we have one left.” He completely forgot the line that stretched to the right and started to move around the counter. “I’ll show you.”

  Grumblings and cursing forced me to say, “Oh, no worries. I’ll find it. Thank you.”

  Feeling all eyes on my bare legs when I walked back to Cassie, she smirked knowingly. “What did you find out?”

  “Superheroes, the cool ones.” Cassie nodded, reading my mind. “Game on.”

  Kyle

  Luca ruined my afternoon.

  By texting a picture of a certain brunette in a French maid’s costume, my prick of a friend managed to capture my attention while pissing me off in the process.

  The words—look who I ran into—along with the perfect shot of toned legs in fuck-me heels, and tits that were barely contained in the small dress, caused my frustration to grow along with my dick.

  When my cell rang, I debated not answering. Curiosity forced me to hit that fucking accept button.

  “Dude, you should have been there.” The more descriptive he got, the more my ire worsened. I was well acquainted with those legs. The memory of the way she wrapped them around my waist as I plunged into her was still fresh in my mind. Hell, I could still feel the weight of her perfect tits in my hands.

  “Did she know you were taking pictures of her, you pervert?”

  “I took it for you, asshole. You’re welcome.”

  “Is that all you needed to tell me?” Luca was totally onto me when my tone failed to hide my envy. His deep chuckle prompted me to end the call without a good-bye.

  I had to appreciate his voyeurism in the way he captured her assets so perfectly. That picture would provide me hours of entertainment when I didn’t have the real thing available to me. Why I didn’t have the real thing remained to be a question that had irked me since leaving Jude’s place last night.

  I was sure we’d end the evening in the position we both seemed to favor. Yet, there she went out the door without so much as a backward glance. She left me confused, in need of an alternative method, which turned out to be a very poor substitution. Afterward, lying on my back while staring at the ceiling, I spent too much time wondering why the sudden change in attitude on her part.

  And now, thanks to that Italian prick, I was again consumed with thoughts of Vanessa Monroe. Not wanting my day to end like my night had, I picked up my cell and texted her.

  Me: My apartment could use a good cleaning. Are you free to come do the job?

  A smile I couldn’t prevent lifted the corners of my mouth when the little dancing dots appeared on my screen and her nickname popped up with a response.

  Nessa: Cleaning is not where my talent lies… getting dirty is.

  Well, damn.

  Me: I can work with that. Are you free to get dirty?

  No dots danced. A full ten minutes passed and no response came. Rather than send another text, I dialed her number. I wondered if she would pick up, and then a breathy, “Call me later,” came over the line before she added, “Hi.”

  “Bad time?”

  “Yes.”

  Ignoring her, I asked, “So, are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Free to get dirty?” In the background, the sounds of traffic replaced her voice. “Hello?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know if you are free to get dirty? Or if you want to?” More silence came. “Do I need to remind you how good it was the last time we got dirty?”

  “I remember. I just don’t…”

  “If you change your mind,” I interrupted. “I’m in Lenox Tower… 72nd and 2nd… apartment 18D. I’ll leave your name with my doorman.” I hung up and said a silent prayer, hoping the Vanessa I spent a weekend having a good time with appeared at my door. But with each passing minute, as they piled up like little dominos, what turned out to be an hour later caused hope to fly out the window.

  While waiting for my takeout to arrive, I grabbed myself a beer and stepped toward my balcony door in my living room. The view was spectacular. Stars started to dot the sky alongside the pale moon, creating the perfect dusk skyline.

  In unison with the growl coming from my stomach, my buzzer sounded. I snagged cash off the table and pulled the door open to hear Vanessa announce, “Yeah, so I came to get dirty.” After a pregnant pause, Vanessa’s brows lowered. Her eyes focused on the cash in my hand. “Were you expecting someone else?”

  “I was waiting for Suzie Lu.”

  “You hired a hooker?” She glanced at the twenty in my hand with a sideways smirk. “And not a high-class one at that.”

  “Funny. Suzie Lu is bringing dinner, but I would rather have you than Kung Pao chicken.”

  “Good call. I’m spicier.”

  Vanessa had a certain way of looking at things. Plus, the sparkle in her eye and the fact she was undeterred, prompted me to ask, “Would you like to stay and join me?”

  “Are we still talking about Kung Pao chicken or sex?”

  Rather than answer, I pulled her into my apartment and slammed the door shut before pinning her up against it. With our bodies aligned from head to toe, I crushed my lips against hers needing a taste of that spice I craved. Forgotten was my dinner, or the fact it would be arriving soon.

  She pushed away breathlessly and gasped. “Do we have time?”

  “If we stop talking.” I lifted her and those stunning legs wrapped around me just as I wanted. Carrying her over to my island, I laid her down and removed her shoes, jeans, and panties in rapid speed. The upper half of her body was totally clothed, making it all that much hotter. There was no need to pretend I wanted anything other than her coming all over my face.

  She was on the same page, no questions asked, and no attempt to slow things down. Instead, she relaxed as best as she could on the cold hard granite and enjoyed every stroke of my tongue.

  Her fingers gripped the ends of my hair and tugged, forcing a hiss to escape from my lips. The burst of air on her clit brought her that much closer, and it only took a few more demanding sucks to steal her first orgasm of the night.

  Just as I lifted my head and licked my lips, my buzzer sounded with what I assumed was delivery of my dinner. Having just had the best appetizer, I demanded she stay put while I answered t
he door.

  Blocking the view into my apartment from the deliveryman’s gaze, I shoved the cash at him, grabbed my takeout, and stalked back to where she still lay on my kitchen island. I loved how she hadn’t moved, and instead reveled in the aftershocks of her release. No embarrassment, no awkward moments on her part, just complete confidence.

  Such a fucking turn-on.

  What was even hotter was how I then stood between her spread bare legs, feeding her Kung Pao chicken out of the white paper carton one piece at a time. With each drag of her lips over the thin wooden sticks, my cock reminded me to move things along as he was still waiting for his turn.

  “This was what I imagined doing last night after Jude and Brae’s party,” I said but stopped when her eyes narrowed.

  “You imagined feeding me bad Chinese takeout?”

  “No, I imagined me in between your naked legs just as I am now.” I pushed forward and kissed her lips, the combination of the Kung Pao heavy on my tongue with just a hint of Vanessa lingering. “Can you taste how much better you make bad takeout taste? It’s a taste I’ll never tire of.”

  She pushed away the carton and said, “I think I’ve had enough.”

  “Of food or me?” I took her hand and pressed it to my crotch. “Because he needs dessert.” A quick flash of the look she had given me last night at Jude and Brae’s crossed over her beautiful features. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie. You have the same expression you had last night. Why did you blow me off, Vanessa? I hoped we could come back here and have a good time with my purchases from the Pleasure Chest. I had us in mind when I bought them.”

  “Us? We’re an us now?”

  “Really? We’re pulling hairs over a pronoun? Okay, I wanted Kyle and Vanessa to have a good time? Is that better?”

  “Provided that’s just what it is… a good time.” She bounced off the island and moved to the other side of the kitchen. “All the lovey dovey shit last night, not to mention the shots, got to me. I needed to go home… alone.”