Rock Hard

by Paige North

  “Jayce,” she moans. “I want to lie down…” Her voice is soft and throaty and making me even harder.

  “No, you don’t,” I tell her, eliciting a confused look. “I know what you want. Come.” I pull away suddenly, leaving her gasping for breath and looking around as though she’s forgotten where she is. I guide her upstairs, past the mini recording studio and onto the second floor balcony.

  “What are you doing?” She tugs on my hand. “We can’t go out there. What if people see?”

  “Who? The only person out here for miles is my driver, and I guarantee you he’s watching a pre-season game on his phone in the car. He don’t give a shit what we’re doing.”

  “What about neighbors? There’s a house over there.”

  “Way over there.” It’s my house, so I happen to know nobody’s home. I press her up against the balcony, get to my knees, and slide my hands underneath her dress. Slowly, I drag her panties down, watching her eyes roll back and the way she bites her lip in apprehension.

  “Dim the lights then?” Nervously, she frets with her hair. “I just…I’m not used to this, Jayce.”

  “I know. That’s why you should let me take control. It’s nice out here, isn’t it?” The thought that someone might see me fucking this gorgeous woman from a distance doesn’t bother me in the least. It drives me, makes me want her even more. She’s with me, nobody else. She’s mine now.

  But I understand she’s worried, so I reach into my pocket and take out my phone. Opening my HomeControl app, I press the “porch lights” toggle, the lights go off, and then I face her again. “Better?” I scoop her face to kiss her again. “How badly do you want me, Elena?” My fingers dip underneath her skirt and lightly graze either side of her naked pussy.

  Her chest heaves up and down. “Do what you did at the club again.”

  “Ahh, you’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you? You mean like this?” My fingertip plays at the entrance to her pussy, sliding around in her juices, then slowly, I dip inside. “Or like this?” I add another finger and shove them deeply. She closes her eyes, grips my hair.

  “Yes. Keep doing that.”

  I feel for her G-spot and rub it while pressing my palm up against her clit, just like I did last week. She loves it, but I don’t want her to come again this way. In fact, I don’t want her to get used to any one way of coming. I want to mold her so that she accepts anything we do. I want her to learn and grow each and every time we’re together.

  “Jayce, don’t stop,” she whispers, nervously scanning around. I know she wants to come, so she can feel good, yeah, but also to get it over with in the outdoors.

  “Turn around.”

  Her eyes open, and there’s shock in them. “Why?”

  I force her around quickly until she gasps. “Don’t ask why. Just trust me. All I want is to make you feel good. Close your eyes and forget where we are.” She trembles against me, from the cool breezes or fear I’m not sure. I know I’m being rougher than she’s used to, but she needs to understand that I would never hurt her. I’m obsessed with her, adore her, hold her up way higher than I hold myself, so there’s no way I could.

  I envelop my arms around her to calm her. She reaches back to hold my head, prompting me to devour her neck and hairline. Goosebumps erupt over her arms, and I smile. Love those little telltale signs. I lift her skirt and undo my pants’ button and shirt, letting both open far enough so I can feel her naked ass against my torso. Her hands slide down my sides until they hook into my shorts and take them with her.

  “Good, you want more. Show me how much.” She hasn’t seen my cock yet, and I don’t want her to. Feeling it fill and expand her is so much better. “Bend over the railing and wave your ass at me. Show me you want it.”

  “Can I see your face the first time we do this?” So innocent, but she needs to move from Level II to at least a IV if she wants to make me happy. If she wants to be happy with me. None of this making love shit.

  “No. I’m not your boyfriend right now. I’m going to fuck you, Elena,” I tell her, reaching for a condom inside my pocket and ripping it open. “And that’s all you’ll focus on. Not my face, not where you are, nothing. Just feel.” My erection strains against her, as I slide the sheath over me. Seeing her round, tight ass pressed up against the head of my cock is too much for my patience, and I slide it up and down her slit.

  Finally, I can’t take it anymore and push in slowly, as she lets loose a long moan while gripping the handrail. She’s so tight, my eyes roll back into my head. Warm and soft, and I want nothing more than to feel how far I’ll go, how well we fit together. Exactly as I thought—perfectly. “God, you feel good.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m going to fuck you harder now, Elena. Put the thought in your head.”

  Her groans are beautiful, and suddenly, we’re not Jayce and Elena, two people working together who went out on a romantic date to an Italian restaurant. Suddenly, she’s a female in heat and I’m a male animal, and all I want to do is pound her cunt until it feels so fucking good, we explode from the pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. But she’s still nervous, glancing around, and that just won’t cut it. I let go of her hips with one hand and cover her eyes, holding her head gently in the crook of my arm. “You need blinders, little girl. Seeing that I don’t have any, this’ll do.”

  “Jayce.”

  At first, she tries removing my arm, but I whisper in her ear. “Trust me.”

  With a sigh, her muscles soften and she holds onto my arm for support, and now that we’re locked into this knot and she’s no longer crippled by sight, I plunge into her with full force. She moans loud and long, something she never would’ve done had she still been worried about her surroundings. That’s the beauty of blindfolds—now she can focus on what she feels.

  I fuck her hard, bringing myself too close to the edge then ease up, fucking her again, reaching around to pinch her pussy closed, using her own lips to rub circles against her clit. “How’s that? You like getting fucked from behind, Elena? You like me rubbing your smooth pussy? I bet you knew we would fuck tonight. Is that why you shaved? Tell me.”

  “Yes.” Her voice is barely a whisper. She’s so close, and it’s so hot that she wanted me tonight. “I wanted you to fuck me. That’s why I shaved, why I wore…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t have to. It’s why she wore this sexy sundress.

  “That’s what I wanted to hear. Was that so hard?” I ask. “Was it? To tell me you wanted me? Always, always tell me what you want. Don’t you want to feel good?” I nearly spill into her, but I pound her and rub her clit, her legs squeezing tightly around my cock, my balls slapping so close to my fingers. Why she denied herself this long, this far, is beyond me.

  “Yes. Feel good…I’m going to…” Her breathing comes in short bursts and whimpers, and then everything stops. Elena stops moving, stops breathing, just lets loose another low moan, followed by the awesome pulsations of her pussy gripping my cock.

  “That’s it, Shortcake. Come hard for me. You feel so good.” So good, in fact, that I can’t hold it any longer either, and as much as I wish I could pull out and watch my cum hit that tight ass —Elena has already gone outside her comfort zone enough for one day, and because of it, a profound sense of respect and admiration fills me. She’s too good for me—a goddess of beauty and passion, giving a low-life like me the time of day.

  I should be so lucky.

  A moment later, I spill deep into her, my balls tightening against my body. Wave after wave shakes through me, and I let loose a loud groan. Yes, for fuck’s sake…yes. Why does this feel a thousand times more powerful than every other time I come? Why do I turn her around, sweep her face into my hands, and plunge my tongue into her mouth to feast on her lips instead of zip up and claim we have to go, cutting short any conversation?

  Why do I feel so proud, like I owned her, like I made her mine?

  “So amazing.” I gaze into her spent green eyes, grate
ful. So fucking grateful. She’ll never understand, but I will. And the moment I get home tonight, I know exactly what I’ll do—write a song about this night and make her immortal.

  8

  Elena

  Someone could come along, open my skull, scrub my brain with bleach, and they’d never, never be able to erase the memory of that night. It’s been three days and the only thing I have been able to think about or do, other than mindlessly wait tables and chat with customers, is daydream about Jayce and me out on that balcony.

  Brain fog of the sexiest kind.

  I can’t look at my male customers without comparing them to Jayce. I can’t eat without thinking of the restaurant we dined at, can’t drink without recalling drops of honey whiskey on my lips or chardonnay on his. Can’t lay in bed without thinking of how he totally owned me. Can’t wake up without checking my phone to see if he’s called.

  What the hell’s happening to me?

  Two worlds have not quite merged into one but are instead battling for my attention. I have my music, vocals, sheet music, professionalism, my gig at Hammerhill’s, and the entire Jayce Owens production team treating me like part of the crew, as we work on songs together. That’s one.

  Then, there’s my family and friends who know nothing of it. I can balance both, I tell myself throughout the day. Both work and Jayce, career and professional. We’ll see each other outside the studio, but inside it’ll be all work, no play. My mantra does a decent job of holding up until Wednesday when I run into Jayce on the way back from the ladies’ room.

  “There she is.” He scoops me off my fast track down the hall and tucks me into an empty recording room. “Can’t stop thinking of you. You’re driving me insane.”

  Then, he plants one of those Jayce Owens kisses onto me—so deep, so hot, and possessive, I forget where I am for a second, who I am. And it isn’t until he pulls away and stares at me with those deep brown eyes that I catch my breath and remember why I’m here.

  And it’s not to make out or wish everyone would just go away for an hour, so we can lock the door and fuck each other hard. I’ve never thought of anyone that way before, but Jayce is doing things to me I never would’ve imagined.

  “What if someone sees us?” I push him away, but my body melds into his hands, betraying me.

  “Ask me if I care.”

  “Well, you might not have anything to lose by being seen with me, but I do. I can’t afford to lose this job.”

  He pulls away, all of a sudden, and stares at me. “We have to get you to record on your own, whatever it takes.”

  “I can’t do that if I don’t get back in there and take this job seriously, show Rick I can do this. Last thing I need is him thinking you only keep me around because you want to fuck me.” Wasn’t that what he said a few nights ago? That he didn’t want to make love, that he only wanted to fuck?

  Despite how filled my brain is with images and memories of Jayce, I can’t think of him as anything other than a temporary distraction. I really can’t. I’m here to follow my dreams to be a country music artist. But he feels so good against me, and his neck smells so nice, and my hands are so drawn to squeeze his biceps, I draw him in and kiss him again.

  Whatever—one more kiss isn’t going to kill my workday. My body caves in, and a warm, aching pool of pure lust spreads between my legs. Impossible to focus when I feel so disheveled all the time.

  “I don’t just want to fuck you, Elena. I said I don’t make love. But that doesn’t mean I don’t respect you as an artist. I want you here for your voice on my tracks, make no mistake about that.” He steals one last kiss, taking my breath with him, then disappears down the hall, looking back with a wiseass smirk.

  I shake my head and fix my hair before going back in there.

  While I wait for my turn to sing, the control room door is open, and I hear a playback of the songs so far. They sound amazing, and Rick is pretty happy. So are the sound engineers and Pierce, Jayce’s manager. Everyone seems to agree that something has clicked in his music, and lately, things are just gelling.

  It’ll only be a matter of time before the recording of the album will be over. I overhear Rick ask Jayce to stay longer hours and come every day if he has to, as long as they get the job done, but there’s still the matter of the song Jayce wrote.

  Rick doesn’t want the ballad in. He says it sounds too ‘80s hair band.

  I think it’s beautiful but needs more work, if anything.

  For a split second, Jayce glances at me through the soundproof glass. Can he tell I’m listening? I pretend to be absorbed by my sheet music and phone every so often.

  Honestly, I wouldn’t have a problem with him staying late every day. Not that I have any say in the matter. I mean, yes, I would love to indulge more and get me Jayce Owens alone a few times a week, use him just as much as he uses me, but maybe it’s better this way. If he stays late, I won’t be tempted to see him as much, and I can throw my focus into getting onstage at Hammerhill’s.

  Rick comes out of the control room in a way better mood than I’m used to seeing him in and stops next to me. He’s got a big grin on his face. “Miss Wallace, you know ever since you started coming ‘round here lending us your amazing vocals, things have started coming together.”

  Behind him, Jayce pulls up, lemonade in hand, checking his phone, pretending like he’s not listening when he so is.

  “If you have time in your schedule,” Rick continues, “I’d like to hire you for more hours. Maybe we can get those final tracks set in stone.”

  “Oh. That would be…that would be amazing,” I say, smiling big. That would be a dream come true! How will this affect work? Hammerhill’s, that is? Should I hold onto that job in case this freelance work with Rick is temporary? I’ll have to figure it out. Either way, I feel like I’m on the right path.

  “Great. I reckon you’re a good luck charm around here. Ain’t that the truth, Jayce?” Rick turns, alerted to Jayce’s nosy presence lingering behind him.

  “What’s that?”

  “That Miss Wallace is a breath of fresh air, a good luck charm to this project?” Now I have both Rick and Jayce looking at me, studying me with smiles on their faces, and it’s still surreal to me when only two weeks ago, I was nobody to either of them.

  “Oh, yeah, definitely. A good luck charm.” Jayce’s rascally grin festers on his face, but I love it. I love it so hard. He’s a smart-ass and secretive and wily, and he waits until Rick has disappeared into the break room to lean down and whisper in my ear. “And she’s a sweet fuck, too.”

  At home, I’m getting ready for a late night of waiting tables, searching the whole apartment for my missing apron. Rick never did go over which hours he’d like me to come in, but I assume we’ll discuss it shortly. Just knowing that the seed has been planted in his mind, that he even thinks of me, is enough for now. In the meantime, where the heck is my apron?

  My search leads me to Zoe’s room, where I knock lightly. I open. “Hey, have you seen my apron?”

  “It’s in the laundry basket. I accidentally spilled coffee all over it this morning, and I had to wash it. Sorry.” She’s working on a song, guitar in arms, and she won’t look at me.

  “No problem. I’ll go get it. Thanks, Zo.”

  But just as I’m about to close the door again, she pops up from her bed and hangs in the doorway, still holding onto the guitar. “Hey, you haven’t told me much lately. You okay? How are things with Jayce?”

  “They’re fine. The same.” I told her a little about the meeting that night, about how he was late. I told her how he wanted me to sing back-up for him. But I never told her about what happened between us, not that night or since.

  A cautious eyebrow goes up, and I know Zoe senses there’s more than what I’m telling her. “Are you like, going out with him?”

  “What? Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. Just because I work with the guy…” I scoff. Just because I work with him doesn’t mean I let him kiss me, le
t his fingers explore me, and three nights ago…let his cock—huge and thick and capable of stretching me out—pound me from behind. Whatever would give her that idea?

  “Okay…” She gives me a sly look suggesting I’m a huge fat liar, but I’m not about to share details with anyone right now. What Jayce and I are doing is purely temporary, a momentary lapse of judgment fueled by lust, one I’m going to get control of shortly. Soon, it’ll taper off and we can move on again. “I just thought, because you know…that car of his is outside again looking for you.”

  “What?”

  Her eyebrow arches, and she points out the window. I fly over to it to find that Jayce’s limo and Fermin are indeed outside waiting for me. What the heck? I pull out my phone and text Jayce.

  Why is Fermin here?

  To get you.

  I have to work Jayce.

  I need to see you.

  I have a car, you know.

  Save gas.

  I HAVE TO WORK!!

  I giggle, waiting for his next text to come in. The boy is certified batshit crazy.

  I’ll pay your lost wages.

  You won’t give up, will you?

  Come over Shortcake…

  I have delicious whipped

  cream to go with you. ;)

  Oh, shit.

  My phone trembles in my hands. So, he wants me to blow off work at the last minute to go see him again. And hooking up with Jayce Owens again would be bad for me…how? I think about my boss, Mr. Logan, sweaty and balding and doing his best to manage his joint filled with would-be musicians and hopefuls, a man who tried making it in the music business long time ago. He would understand if I suddenly got a gig that needed my attention away from waiting tables, but he may not appreciate the short notice.

  “Wow, I must’ve forgotten about that extra session his producer wanted me to come in for tonight,” I tell Zoe, by way of explaining why there’s a limo outside. Ugh. Why can’t I admit the truth?