Hard Work

by Micah Persell

  “Nope, stop right there.” She sat up, and a glint of something he hadn’t seen yet in her fired through her eyes. “Fucking my brains out sounds . . . perfect.”

  Kip pressed his lips together to keep his jaw from dropping. He tried to manage a nonchalant shrug, but it felt like a spasm more than anything. “Okay.”

  She smiled softly. Shyly. “Okay.”

  For the first time in his profession, he was unsure how to proceed. Normally, he’d take charge at this moment—lean over and kiss her until she was breathless and achy. But, he knew things about this woman. Deeply personal things. It was preventing him from viewing her as a client, and that was throwing him off his game. What was he supposed to do no—

  Victoria launched herself at him.

  With an oof, he landed on his back with her sprawled on top of him.

  She immediately pushed up, her hands planted in the mattress on either side of his shoulders, and he could see her brightest blush yet stealing across her cheeks. “I’m sor—”

  He placed his fingertips over her moving lips, and her words petered out. Then, the tip of her tongue met the tip of his middle finger.

  He shuddered, and every drop of blood in his body surged to his cock. “What were you planning to do with me”—he tried to collect his cool and failed—“when you got me in this position?”

  She still wasn’t meeting his eyes, and her arms were still taut. She shrugged with one shoulder.

  He shook his head. “This from the girl who likes everything.” He brushed his fingers along her bottom lip, hoping against hope she’d lick him again.

  She wiggled on top of him, probably in an attempt to slide off his body, but then she halted. The blush deepened and swept down her chest and as far as Kip could see down her shirt—and he was definitely looking, staring at the valley between her breasts with utmost concentration.

  She moved against him again—she’d found his erection. It was sandwiched, not unpleasantly, between their bodies and pressing into her stomach. When she moved a third time, a noise he never made in bed slipped from somewhere deep in his chest.

  “Oh, shit,” she muttered.

  An insistent ache panged in his gut. This was going to fly out of control in 0.0 seconds if he didn’t do something. Didn’t take control. She was merely lying on top of him, and it was driving him crazy in a way he never thought a woman could. In a way a woman never had.

  He gripped her arms. “Victoria—”

  Her gaze suddenly met his, and her eyes were already hazy. Her gaze dipped to his lips, and her own parted. “I’m going to kiss you.”

  Yes.

  No! Control!

  Roll her over. Get her beneath you—

  Her arms suddenly gave way, and she collapsed to his chest, her breasts two firebrands scorching through his shirt. Her lips found his, and she immediately wound her arms around his neck, playing with the hair that tumbled over his collar. Her tongue dove into his mouth without preamble, and sensations lit inside him like a fireworks display.

  The fingers in his hair tightened and gave a little tug, and suddenly, his hands were groping her ass without his permission.

  She moaned, then lifted her lips long enough to say, “Harder,” before diving back into the kiss.

  He obeyed, palming her ass with so much strength, it would have been a slap if he hadn’t held himself back at the last second.

  A slap? What the hell are you thinking?

  But then, as she sucked his tongue into her mouth, she jerked at his hair. “Yes. Harder, Kip.”

  This time, he did slap her.

  He’d had clients in the past who’d wanted it a little rough. Those he could convince to direct the attention to his own body, he’d stayed with for the hour or two they’d hired him to fill. But the ones who’d insisted he do anything that could end up on a police report if his client had a change of heart? He’d walked out without a backward glance, more than willing to forfeit a few hundred dollars. Police reports stuck around forever, showing up at the worst times, such as when one tried to go legit in a judgmental world.

  So when Victoria moaned so loudly it vibrated against his teeth, and when she bucked against him, thrusting against his hard cock crammed into his jeans, he still couldn’t believe it when he smacked her ass a third time, this time on the other cheek.

  She bit into his bottom lip and muttered unintelligible words at him.

  Even through the haze of his lust, he needed to know what she was saying. Needed to make sure he still had her consent.

  He pulled back from the kiss, but he squeezed her ass, unable to make himself take his hands from her yet. “What was that, honey?” His voice was nearly unrecognizable, hoarse and throaty.

  “Naked.” She pressed frantic kisses along the line of his jaw as she reached for the buttons of his shirt. “Please.”

  His own body flushed so hot, his skin had to be getting just as red as hers was. “Yes.” He kept one hand on her bottom, and with the other, he helped her with the buttons of his shirt. As soon as the breeze from the room’s air conditioner wafted against his skin, however, he badly needed her skin against his. In a moment, he switched his fingertips from his own buttons to hers.

  The satin of her blouse slid against his fingers and against her breasts, quickly warming against his touch, and the swells of her breasts were so distracting that he abandoned her buttons to curve his palm around one firm, voluptuous curve.

  Victoria immediately bowed her back, thrusting her breast into his palm, and, in the same movement, thrusting her stomach against his dick. He hissed in a breath, and she was kissing him again, mewling into his mouth with every stroke of her tongue.

  His groin tightened, and he groaned, arching into her before the dimmest recesses of his mind screamed loudly enough to get his attention.

  Orgasm inevitable!

  His gigolo side was strong enough to get him to halt thrusting against her stomach as what he now realized was a powerful orgasm began sweeping up his spine in exquisite pleasure.

  He broke from the kiss, gulping in great lungfuls of air. “Fuck.”

  “Yes!” She suddenly straightened, now straddling his hips. She swept the sides of his shirt away and pressed her palms over his pectorals, groaning and tossing her head back as she shifted over the throbbing dick she now captured between her thighs. “Fuck me.”

  Not helping. This situation was about to detonate, in more ways than one. Kip closed his eyes, blocking out the view of Victoria with her gorgeous flushed skin and blond hair tumbling from her careful bun. Blocking the view of her kiss-bruised lips and the way her nipples thrust against the fine fabric of her blouse.

  He drew in a slow, aching breath, and with it, gained a slight bit of control back so that when she next slid over his lap, thrusting the head of his erection against what had to be her clit, he was able to keep from spewing inside his pants.

  But only just.

  She was writhing atop him now, the crescents of her blunt nails digging into his chest. Her breathing was frantic and catching on every exhalation. She sounded as wild as he felt.

  “Kip,” she gasped. “I’m going to—” She bore down on him, her thighs squeezing his hips, and her head tipped back, revealing the long length of her neck.

  His eyes widened. She was as wild as he was feeling. She jerked along his length. Her breath hitched, and then she cried out.

  He tightened his fingers on her hips as he helped her keep her rhythm, her hands slipping over his nipples in the sheen of sweat that had broken out over his chest.

  “Shit,” she cried. “Shit!”

  Her body stiffened visibly, and then, just as suddenly, she collapsed, falling to his chest once again. Her frantic breaths cascaded over his exposed skin, tightening his nipples and causing him to shiver, though the possibility that the reaction was from the sight of Victoria at the height of her pleasure was highly likely.

  A fine tremor racked her slight frame, and Kip smoothed a hand up her
back. The other hand cradled the back of her head.

  He was so damn horny he was going to explode. Needed to explode. And yet, he found himself wanting to simply hold her as she came down from what had been a nearly violent release.

  As her breathing calmed, she pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat. “God, I’ve been needing that for three years.”

  Kip jerked. “Three—”

  She looked up at him, alarmed, and placed her fingers over his lips. “Forget I said that.”

  Like hell. This woman had gone without a man for three years?

  “I can’t believe I didn’t even get my clothes off.”

  He flipped them suddenly, pressing his hips between her thighs and forcing them wider to accommodate him. “Your clothes will be off for the next one, honey. I promise.”

  She blinked up at him. “I get more?”

  He smiled down at her, and, with fingers that trembled only slightly less than they had minutes ago, set about undoing her buttons at last. “You get everything.”

  She breathed a laugh and arched her back. She reached up with both hands and undid the rest of her bun.

  Like a dream, all of this rich, blond silk tumbled down around her shoulders and chest, thoroughly distracting him once again from his goal of unbuttoning her blouse. As the waves slipped over her breasts, the scent of her shampoo wafted up, and Kip found himself bending down and stroking the tip of his nose along her throat so he could get a better whiff.

  He found her pulse point and indulged in an open-mouth kiss, just like he’d fantasized about the first time he met her. The flutter of her heartbeat strummed against his lips, and he touched the tip of his tongue to her skin.

  She moaned and wove her fingers into his hair, pulling him up until she could kiss him once again.

  This kiss was a little different. With one orgasm out of the way—one she’d desperately needed, apparently—she wasn’t as frantic for him.

  Instead, she was wicked.

  Slow, languorous sweeps of her tongue against his. Her nails scraping against his scalp. The way she raised her knees on each side of his hips, cradling him between her legs and bringing his body flush to hers.

  He had to be crushing her; he had no desire to lift himself from her.

  No finesse with this woman. None.

  She was dangerous. Made him forget his purpose here. He should distance himself, both physically and emotionally.

  Instead, he deepened the kiss. Bringing both hands up, he cradled her face, his thumbs stroking across her cheeks, where he knew without looking that a delectable blush spread.

  He would get control of himself but not to gain distance. He’d get control so he could make this as good as possible for a woman who deserved it more than anyone he’d ever met.

  He poured himself into the kiss, showing her with every weapon in his arsenal how badly he wanted it. Wanted her.

  She pulled from the kiss, gasping, and stared up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Her gaze scanned his features, and he kept stroking her face as she did so, letting her look her fill. “God, you’re fine,” she breathed.

  “And you’re fucking gorgeous.”

  As she breathed a disbelieving laugh, Kip mentally kicked his own ass. He had not said anything right since carrying her out of the bathroom. He was supposed to be a gentleman—women paid him to be one—and he couldn’t keep from swearing around her, forgetting what he should be doing.

  By some miracle, it was working for her. Half of his previous clients would have already walked out in a huff, pissed that he wasn’t delivering on the fantasy they’d purchased.

  But he didn’t like that her small laugh had been disbelieving. Self-deprecating. So he let all the please let me fuck you he was feeling rise to the surface. He tenderly brushed a tendril of that beautiful blond hair from her brow, and then he pushed himself up until he was kneeling between her spread thighs.

  She’d lain content before him, all her limbs relaxed, but his sudden shift made her slightly nervous if the new glint to her eyes was any indication.

  Maintaining eye contact, he shrugged his shirt from his shoulders, knowing as he did so that every muscle in his torso would flicker for her.

  He loved it when her gaze heated, and her lips parted around suddenly shallow breaths.

  Smoothing his palm down his stomach, he then worked at his belt, and her gaze narrowed, rapt on his groin. The clack of his belt buckle was stark in the quiet room amid their increasingly ragged breathing.

  He pulled the belt through the loops, his biceps flexing, and then dropped it off the side of the bed before next undoing the button of his pants and lowering the zipper.

  She licked her lips, and he felt it like a lick to his skin. His fumbled as he pushed his pants past his hips. He always wore black briefs when he was seeing a client, but he’d never been as thankful for their particular cut as he was when Victoria made a desperate, short sound in the back of her throat when she saw them.

  In a practiced move, he stretched out over her on straightened arms, grinding the erection that was barely contained in his underwear between her legs as he kicked his pants the rest of the way off.

  And, just like that, Victoria was done observing. He could see in the flicker of her gaze that she was going to touch.

  Yes.

  She reached up and placed both palms over his chest, and then she leaned up and opened her lips over his collarbone, sucking hard before giving him a sharp nip.

  He grunted, his hips jerking forward without his permission.

  “Liked that?” she murmured right before she did it again.

  Oh, God. What he liked had no place in his work, but damned if he didn’t like that so hard. “Yes,” he groaned.

  As she nipped and sucked her way up his neck, her hands traveled down. Her delicate fingers trailed along his abs, and then, with a boldness that was at odds with the vulnerability she’d displayed earlier, she cupped his erection and aching balls with both hands.

  She squeezed.

  “Fuck!” He thrust into her hand with all his strength, driving the sensitive head of his cock against her hold.

  Just as quickly, he bit his lip and locked down every muscle in his body, keeping himself from thrusting again.

  This is about her!

  The fingers of one hand stroked up his length while the others cupped his sack. “You feel so good.”

  He breathed a laugh. “This is not going like it’s supposed to.” His words were clipped and strained as he tried to hold himself still.

  She nibbled the underside of his chin. “How is it supposed to go?”

  “You’re supposed to be losing your cool.”

  “Trust me.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “I am.”

  Her hands moved to the band of his briefs, and he knew he was seconds away from feeling her skin against his, at which point, he would be less than useless.

  Shaking his head to clear it, he grabbed her wrists with one hand and pulled her arms over her head.

  “Hey.” She frowned up at him. “I was playing with that.”

  Another short, breathless laugh. “I know.” He leaned back and kneeled between her legs again. “But now, I’m going to play with you.”

  Her eyes flashed.

  He resumed the task he’d set out to do several times already, dismayed to find that he’d only managed to undo one of her buttons—the one right beneath her throat—in all the times he’d tried to get her out of her clothes.

  The fabric of her shirt was slick and soft, and with it clinging to her sweat-damp skin, he could see the lacy outline of her bra through it. His erection jerked as he slipped the second and then third buttons free. They were tiny, delicate pearls, and his large fingers had trouble with them when he’d never had trouble with buttons before in his life.

  He blamed the shaking that racked his entire body.

  On the fourth button, her blouse began to part, revealing the lingerie beneath. And it was definitely linge
rie.

  Victoria had dressed for him.

  Something odd thumped in his chest, exhilarating and paining him at the same time. Now he was desperate to see her, and he moved quickly as he unbuttoned the rest of her blouse, shoving it aside with uncouth vigor.

  “God in heaven,” he breathed.

  He stared so hard, she squirmed beneath his gaze, but even then, he couldn’t pull his focus from her body long enough to ensure her she was rocking him down to his core.

  She wore a cream-colored lace bustier that pushed her breasts up and wrapped around her svelte curves until Kip thought his brain was going to explode. Delectable patches of pale skin peeked through the lace’s pattern.

  Propping himself up on one arm, he traced with his fingers one of the corset-like ribs of the bustier from the base right above her belly button up to the curve of her breast. “This is incredible,” he murmured.

  She squirmed again, and he struggled to get his gaze up from the flesh he was making love to with his eyes. At last, his gaze met hers. “Incredible,” he repeated.

  As expected, she blushed. But the way she bit her bottom lip and traced her own fingertips along the strap of the bustier let him know she was pleased by his compliment and attention.

  Good. Finally doing something right.

  And then he realized that if she’d taken such care with what was beneath her top, what awaited him beneath her pants was going to be just as life changing.

  He grabbed her free hand and pressed a quick kiss into her palm before directing it to her parted blouse. “Take it off, honey.”

  She obeyed him without question, and he stowed that knowledge—that she was agreeable to being directed—away for future use. While she was occupied with removing her shirt, his fingers stroked down her stomach to the button and fly of her slacks.

  Her breathing hitched as the sound of her zipper filled the room, but as she dropped her shirt over the side of the bed, she lifted her hips, giving him wordless permission to take her pants off.

  He controlled himself enough to keep from ripping them off in his bid to see all of her, but he was less than suave. He also had no concept of where her pants went once they were off, because his entire world narrowed down to the tiny slip of a G-string that encircled Victoria’s hips.