Love Undercover_A Romance Compilation

by Amy Brent

  A muffled moan from Eric flowed over to me. I stroked my hand slowly from the bottom of my ankle all the way up to my ass. Abruptly, I spanked it. Then, my hand flowed up further, bringing the rest of my torso up with it. Standing upright now, I reached back and undid the back of my bra. It flowed under one strap. Then, lifting the hand holding the bra over my head, I rotated the bra around a couple times as I gyrated around to face Eric head-on.

  By now, I could see through his sweats that his dick was fully hard while his eyes were coated with want.

  My gaze never leaving his, I tossed my bra at his face. He didn’t even try to catch it as it smacked into his forehead and slid down.

  The rhythm of the song picked up, so I did, too. Shaking my hips one way and then the next, I did a little circle until I was facing him once again. Then, dipping my fingers through the elastic band of my thong, I wriggled it down off me as I shook around and around until it plopped on the floor and I was facing Eric completely naked.

  Wasting no time, I walked up to him and positioned him so he was sitting up. Under his sweatpants, he was even harder than expected. When I climbed on his lap, I slid onto his hard cock easily. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he snaked his arms around my back to hold me in place.

  Riding him like this, cowgirl style, I gyrated myself back and forth over his magnificent dick. It felt so good, like he was a dildo custom made for me. Already, I was wet enough to go all the way down on his dick and have it poke me in all the pleasurable places. Eric, meanwhile, was angling his lips forward so he could suck on my tits as we moved together.

  As I ground myself into him, my clit got some play too. I went round and round, up and down, piercing my pussy and rubbing my clit all at once. It was mere minutes before my body was shaking uncontrollably. Already, I was losing control of my torso, no longer able to grind myself the way I needed to.

  Slurping my mouth with a sloppy kiss, Eric suddenly pulled away. His face wore a cruel understanding of his power, but this time, he didn’t take advantage of it. He only gave me exactly what I needed. As I made my last attempt to ride him cowgirl, he fucked me himself in turn.

  That was just what my coiled-up orgasm needed. As his dick hit me with all the intensity I could’ve dreamed of, my body left me. A strangled orgasm fluttered through my core as my breath gasped out, and I collapsed into a shaking, heaving mess.

  I was like a flopped down doll when Eric positioned me for what he wanted next.

  Rolled over onto my stomach and pulled up on my knees, Eric started angling himself against me. This time, however, his dick wasn’t nosing at my pussy. He was going for my other hole. It started out gradually, each slight burrowing sending vibrations of pleasure through me.

  My torso twisted back and forth with how good this already felt. Eric had somehow managed to find my ass each time. He was relentless, nestling himself in deeper, on and on and on. Each thrust gained maybe a fifth of an inch of progress, but that was enough to have both of our bodies shaking with it.

  “So fucking tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth over the sound of my harried moans.

  Who would’ve ever thought anal could feel so bad and good all at once?

  Just like that, slow and steady, he stretched me out. At one point, he paused for a minute to get some lube. To my surprise, I found my ass pressing onto him insistently. Eric wasn’t the only one who wanted this.

  When he returned his skillful fingers to my ass, his kneading of the flesh there did the trick. The next time he slid in, it was with ease. He got all the way in, sending rippling shudders through me.

  “Oh fucking yes,” I moaned.

  Eric slapped my ass victoriously.

  “Yeah, you fucking like that, don’t you?”

  I let my body answer for me. It ground itself onto his dick until he was in as far as he could go. Both of our bodies tensed and then un-tensed and then tensed again with the insertion. It felt like I couldn’t take any more of the brutal thrusting, that I would crack and break and dissolve into little granules of pleasure.

  But Eric wasn’t even halfway close to finished with me yet. Grabbing my hair and pulling my head back, he aimed another thrust in, this one shallower but faster and more brutal. More sensation detonated through me.

  He repeated the motion again, pulling my head back even farther this time. Pain smacked my pleasure into new heights. Cries were clawing their way out of me.

  He slapped my ass again, and a scream came out. I was so fucking close.

  “You gonna come for me, baby?” Eric asked.

  As he slammed his dick deep into my ass, there was no need for any words to come out of my mouth. The orgasm throttled through every part of me, and my choking and gasping were answer enough.

  Afterward, Eric’s hard dick was still in my ass. With the hyper relaxed state of it, he was able to fuck me to his pleasure. It all felt a bit far away, as if it were both happening to me and to someone else. It felt good, but almost like a memory of feeling good. Although when Eric’s fine dick finally burst into its last jubilant thrusts, my body trembled a bit too in memory of the joy of it all.

  Afterward, we lay there, curled up in each other, saying nothing but making little sounds of pleasure through our smiles. It was as if we had forgotten how to speak. After an indeterminate time like this, Eric got up.

  “Hate to end this,” he said, “but I’m starving.”

  “Is that your way of offering to make me dinner?” I asked with a saucy smile.

  Grinning down at me, Eric leaned over and gave me a kiss on the tip of my nose.

  “Reading my mind, darling.”

  His use of the affectionate title sent an unexpected shiver of happiness through me, and I averted my eyes.

  “So what’s for dinner?”

  “Calm down, woman,” Eric said. “I haven’t even made it to the kitchen yet.”

  Down in the kitchen, as it turned out, the options included macaroni and cheese.

  Seeing him dismally hold up the trademark blue box, I couldn’t suppress a giggle.

  “Seriously?”

  “I know,” Eric said. “So far I’m not exactly stellar at being your stereotypical billionaire. I forgot to go to the grocery store this week, and I also forgot that my cook is on a two-week vacation.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’m guessing I’m probably not your stereotypical mistress either.”

  There were a few seconds of silence during which Eric’s eyes got misty. Finally, they settled on me with a decided, “No, you’re not certainly not.”

  Eric made quick work of the mac and cheese, throwing in a few extra ingredients he had on hand as well.

  “This used to be power food for me and Mark back at the university,” he explained as he stirred his interesting-smelling concoction. “We’d use whatever the hell we had in our dorm room to make it a bit different every time. Sometimes the results were pretty good, sometimes they were downright amazing, and other times they were—”

  “Totally inedible,” I finished for him.

  He tossed me a smile.

  “How did you know?”

  I shrugged.

  “Lucky guess,” I said.

  Although, really, the dubious fumes wafting over from Eric’s stainless steel pot already had weakened my appetite.

  “If this is horrible, don’t feel like you have to eat it,” Eric said a few minutes later as he ladled out generous portions of the slightly red-tinged noodles.

  “Thanks,” I said. “That was a super convincing pitch you gave there.”

  Sitting down with his own bowl, Eric nodded thoughtfully.

  “Shit, you’re totally right, and I’m a businessman, too. Although selling is Mark’s thing.”

  He tapped a finger on his lower lip as if deep in thought.

  “Hang on. How about this?” He lifted a spoonful of the glistening stuff.

  “Salsa, mayo, salt and pepper, and paprika mac and cheese. Just as gooey as it looks. Do you want
to eat something your friends have never tasted and probably never will? Do you want an experience that will be a shock to say the least? Then head on down to Eric’s house where he’ll make you a batch.”

  We laughed together.

  Spooning up some of the concoction myself, I admitted, “Okay, you totally convinced me there.”

  When I took a bite, it wasn’t nearly as retch-inducing as I’d feared. I took another spoonful just to be sure before I admitted the truth.

  “Actually, it’s not bad.”

  Chewing, Eric nodded, his eyes alight with his most recent victory.

  “It’s so not bad that it’s good!”

  Toasting our spoons, we declared, “To mac and cheese!”

  I was halfway done when it occurred to me that, as far as actual intel on the Eric Black case, I still had a big fat zero despite my whole lingerie strip show. I had to get some information about the case, something about Trisha. But I couldn’t be too obvious when asking either.

  “So, how is work going?” I asked, turning a politely interested gaze his way.

  There, that wasn’t too prying at all.

  Nonetheless, Eric’s face darkened.

  “Good, but—” He sighed. “You know last Friday, how I called you out of the blue and something was obviously up?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, I had a huge incident at my workplace. That employee I told you about, Trisha, the one who had been stalking me and who I had to get a restraining order against? She showed up out of the blue. She demanded to see me and then started yelling at me in front of everyone. The police showed up, but they took their time. It shouldn’t really have been a big deal. I was just…”

  He shook his head, staring dully into his bowl.

  “It’s okay,” I said quickly. “You don’t have to talk about if you don’t want to.”

  Eric lifted his gaze.

  “But I did want to. I do. I want to vent. I just didn’t want to ruin the night. The whole situation was a bit traumatic to say the least. It’s amazing how people can crack up when things don’t go their way.”

  He shook his head, staring off in the distance. Fear tremored through me. Just how was Eric going to crack up when he found out the truth about me?

  “I knew this crazy girl from my university named Trisha,” I said. “Do you think it’s the same one? Her last name is on the tip of my tongue. I just can’t remember it exactly.”

  “Was it Nichols?” Eric said.

  I rammed another spoonful in my mouth so Eric wouldn’t see the victorious look on my face.

  “Yeah, that was it!” I said, nodding vigorously.

  “Wow,” Eric said, picking up another spoonful himself. “Small world, right?”

  “Right,” I echoed hollowly.

  Although I had succeeded, there was an empty feeling to it, as if I had betrayed him.

  After we finished eating, we watched a movie together. It was strangely intimate, curled up with him watching TV, almost as if we were a regular couple.

  Once it was midnight, though, I made an excuse about catching up on sleep and left. This time, Eric wasn’t overly upset about it. Or if he was, he hid it well. The way this was going was probably freaking him out. It was me anyway.

  Once in my car, I drove down the street a couple blocks, pulled over to the side of the road, and sat there in my car for a few minutes. Really, what I should have been doing was Google searching Trisha Nichols to see what I could pull up before getting to the office tomorrow.

  But right now, it seemed my head was too clogged with other things. Outside, just visible in the street lights, there were two squirrels chasing each other back and forth on a pair of birch trees. As soon as one squirrel ran away, the other one would chase it, then vice versa. It seemed an endless sequence of back and forth, neither squirrel ever finding peace.

  The corners of my mouth drooped. Was that just what Eric and I were doing? Trying to catch each other while not realizing we were trapped in something bigger than us? That was what this was starting to feel like. I couldn’t tell who was using who anymore, who was getting more out of this. Although I did know what I felt right now as I stared into the dark at two little squirrels in love: guilt.

  Chapter 22

  Eric

  “Imagine seeing you here,” Mark said gaily, standing at the urinal next to me.

  I shrugged. He was right. Usually, I only used the private bathroom in my office.

  “Let’s just say I was feeling friendly.”

  “Friendly enough to go for drinks tonight?” Mark asked.

  Instead of the automatic “yes” that usually came out of my mouth at a suggestion like that, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from saying “no.”

  “Don’t worry,” Mark said, zipping up his trousers and striding by me on his way to the sinks. “If you say no, I’ll just assume it’s because you’ve fallen hopelessly in love with your sexy mistress.”

  Glaring at him, I quickly zipped myself up and stalked over to the sink beside him.

  A splatter of water hit my cheek, and I turned to see Mark smirking at me. He flicked more water at me, which I dodged.

  “You didn’t answer me,” he said as I moved to get out of his range.

  I sighed.

  “Which question?”

  “Whether you’d come drinking with me. Or what I said about your mistress. Either one.”

  “I’m tired of arguing about this,” I said.

  “We’re not arguing; we’re discussing. You know, how friends do?” Mark said, eyeing me as if maybe I’d forgotten he was my friend.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “That reminds me.”

  Reaching into my top pocket, I tossed him a little notepad in the shape of a sloth.

  “So we could record our sloth plans on these,” I said, grinning to myself as Mark’s mouth formed a genuine smile. He put the little thing above his head and waved it.

  “You amazing fucker.”

  I shrugged, slinging my arm around him to beat him to a pat on the back.

  “What else are friends for?”

  Ripping the top smiling sloth note in two, Mark stuck one half on my forehead.

  “Look, they stick! So, you’ll come tonight?”

  Plastering the other half onto his ear, I nodded.

  “Sure thing. Just make sure you wear your new accessory tonight.”

  Mark flicked it with his finger, his gaze traveling to the other half still stuck on my forehead.

  “A long as you do.”

  By the time we left work, Mark’s sloth note earring had mysteriously disappeared, as had all the sloth notes.

  “I don’t give a shit,” he announced at my car. “You’re coming.”

  That night, we tried out somewhere new.

  Beezelbub’s was a punk rock bar. It had walls resembling prison bars painted red, a metallic engraved floor that was easy to slip on, and, most importantly, a good selection of gothic and punk hotties.

  “What can I say,” Mark yelled over the band Dropkick Murphys. “I’m in the mood for some pink hair or nipple piercings or some shit.”

  I smiled thinly at him, making a show of scanning the room myself. The last thing I wanted tonight to turn into was one of Mark’s pestering session with Kathryn as his topic of choice.

  And there were, admittedly, a good supply of babes here. Mark had his eye on a short girl with a red pixie cut who was gesturing animatedly with her hands to her friend at the bar. But there was another one sitting closer to us, one with dark hair and dark eyes, pretty curvy. She was wearing a leather skirt and reminded me of—

  I ripped my gaze away. I was not going to think of Kathryn tonight. No way.

  “As much as sitting here getting our eardrums blown out is fun,” Mark yelled, “what do you say we get some relief at the bar?”

  He jerked his thumb over to a completely steel bar in the corner, which featured several pointy teeth-like protrusions on the ceiling and counter.

&
nbsp; By the time we arrived there, the pixie-haired redhead had moved down the bar, but Mark was not so easily perturbed. Securing us a beer each, he insinuated himself into her and her friend’s conversation.

  Holding up the missing sloth notepad, he asked, “What you think of what my friend got me?”

  The pixie-haired girl and her companion—a not-bad brunette with a modern bob—burst out laughing.

  “Where did you get those?” the brunette asked, her thickly lined eyes dancing as she turned to me.

  “The internet,” I admitted. “They’ve got a few things on there.”

  “Totally,” she said.

  Beside us, Mark and the redhead were already in a deep, animated conversation, so clearly as his wingman, it was my duty to continue the conversation with the brunette in front of me.

  I contemplated her blankly, trying to think of something to say. This was unheard of for me. There always seemed to be something to say. But right now, I had no interest in talking to this girl, as pretty and fun as she seemed.

  “Hey, buddy,” Mark said, tapping me on the arm. “Sherry’s got a table at the back. We’re going to join them!”

  Making my face assume some semblance of a smile, I followed. Inwardly, I was already annoyed. I was halfway through my beer and had a pretty girl on either side of me, so why wasn’t I having a good time?

  I took another swig of my beer, not letting my mind answer that question.

  As it turned out, Sherry’s table was absolutely loaded with hot, eligible goth and punk females. There was a tall blond one with skin so pale she looked like a doll. There was a tattoo-covered one with red lips that looked like they knew pretty well just what to do in bed.

  Mark and I sat in the middle of the table. It wasn’t long before we were flooded with eager conversation from the girls, who were clearly bored and having a fun night out. The alcoholic drinks flowed, the saucy conversation rolled on, and, before I knew it, the tall pale blonde was sitting in my lap.

  “This means I get to have part of your drink,” she informed me, rubbing her butt into me as she lowered her face to my cup.

  I smiled thinly as I excused myself to the bathroom.