“Hell no, we aren’t going to pretend it never happened,” he growls. “I don’t know about you but I thought that was pretty fucking hot and we have some great chemistry when you’re on your back.”
I sit stunned for a moment, because, although what he said was true, how could we continue with this? There’s no freaking way I’m getting into a relationship with anyone, especially Nixon King, motocross’s very own womanizer.
Casual is the only way I roll now. Boyfriends are out of the fucking question.
“That being said, I don’t want to get into a relationship with you or anyone else for that matter,” he explains, repeating my thoughts.
Now I’m confused as hell. What the hell is he trying to say?
“What the hell are you saying, Nixon? Spit it out,” I tell him.
“Well, I don’t do girlfriends so I figure you and I can just have some fun together until we tire of each other and then we call it quits.”
“Uh,” is all I can get out. I’m stunned into silence. I take a minute to think about this. I’m glad that he doesn’t do girlfriends because I don’t want a boyfriend, but how would this work? Would we just be fuck buddies?
This could actually be a good thing.
I won’t have a ton of time to devote to a relationship once the season starts and, more importantly, I refuse to be hurt like I have been before and I know that Nixon means what he says about not having a girlfriend because I may have Googled him a few times since we’ve met.
He’s never been in a photo with the same girl twice.
We could both have a few months of between the sheets action and then be on our merry ways, no feelings hurt, no awkward moments on the track.
Nixon could be onto something here.
Chapter 9
After taking a minute to think all of this information through, with a lot of awkward head tilts and eyebrow raises on my part, I answer him.
“Okay, I’m in, but we need to work out some details if we’re going to do this,” I point my finger at him, smiling when I see that his face looks a bit disbelieving, like I’m the first girl to ever agree to this.
“Excuse me?” he asks, like he didn’t hear me right.
“Yeah, I’m in, but we need to discuss the conditions.” I look at him and wait for him to acknowledge me. With just a small head nod from Nixon, I decide to proceed.
“We stay friends through this but don’t let anyone know what’s really going on, it doesn’t affect our work relationship, and most importantly you are not my boyfriend. You have no claim on me¸ but I won’t sleep with anyone else while we’re doing this and I ask that you do the same.”
Nixon sits at my barn wood table, pizza suspended in the air, looking at me like he still can’t believe that I’ve agreed to this. The more I think about the arrangement the more I realize this is the best idea anyone has had in a while.
“Why don’t you want a boyfriend Em?” he questions after a few moments of silence. Oh shit, not going there. I don’t want to tell him the reason that I’ve sworn off relationships of any kind.
I immediately see a picture of Pete, my ex-fiancé, in my mind and have to shake my head quickly to keep myself from going back to that place.
Then my mind flashes back to my last quasi serious relationship, over a year and a half ago, before I decided that one-nighters would be all I could handle for quite a while.
Nate was a decent guy, sweet to me and came to my races to cheer me on. But he also didn’t know his elbow from his ass when it came to sex. He only worked to get himself off and then left me wet and wanting until I took care of it myself.
I remember him spending a lot of time at my house, eating my food because ‘I had better shit in my pantry’ than he did. He would also come over to watch football with me, which I didn’t mind because I liked watching football, but he was living in his high school football glory days, which had ended seven years before I’d met him.
What I didn’t like was listening to Nate yell at my television over the commentators about how he could have completed that pass with his eyes closed while obnoxiously telling me that he should be playing pro ball instead of those schmucks on TV.
There were so many times I wanted to scream at him that his ball career was over and he needed to find a new dream. Instead I broke it off with him just so I could watch a football game in peace.
I made my mind stop there. I didn’t want to think anymore of the relationships before him, which had really done a number on me emotionally, but since Nate it had only been casual hookups and I was planning on keeping it that way.
“I just don’t. Life is hard enough when you have to look after yourself. Adding another person to the mix and having to constantly worry about their feelings is too much work,” I lie through my teeth.
Nixon must buy it, because he nods and then takes a large bite of his pizza.
“So how about you tell me why you’re constantly single. Why no little woman at home?” I smile at him when he starts to cough.
When he gets his coughing fit under control he looks up and gives me that fake ass smirk he used on me when we first met I have a strong feeling he’s going to lie to me. “There isn’t some huge sob story behind it, sugar. I’m still young, I’m a big name, and while I’m both I don’t want to settle down. I’ll have time to get married and have a family with someone later on in life, but for now I want to enjoy everything I can.”
I raise my brows at his answer, thinking it’s a good one, but still I’ve seen some of the women that have been on his arm at awards ceremonies and promo junkets. Most men would give their left nut to be breathing the same air as some of the women Nixon has slept with and he’s telling me that he’s cool with a one-time hit it and quit it because he’s young and doesn’t want to be tied down?
I’m not buying it.
He laughs at my incredulous look before speaking again. “What? I’m not yankin’ your chain here, I promise. I’ve just never found anyone who’s intrigued me enough to make me stay with them, so I don’t. I’d rather just have fun now while I’m young, you know?” he shrugs.
I purse my lips together and mull over his answer in my head. It sounds like something that a super popular, cocky, selfish man would say, so I believe him to some extent.
But I’ve seen some of the chicks he’s bagged. Hell, I’d bat for the other team permanently if I could say that I was with some of the women he’s been with. But I decide to let it go because there is no point in arguing and if we do, Nixon might want some back story into why I’m single and there’s no freaking way I’m going to tell him that.
So I nod my agreement and then dig into my pizza. We sit quietly for a total of two minutes before Nixon opens his mouth.
“So, you’re cool with being fuck buddies then?” he looks a bit leery.
I let the title roll around in my head for a few seconds, and realize that I am okay with it.
“Yeah I’m cool with it, as long as we stick to the rules and tell the other the second that they want to end it. I don’t want to find out that you’re sleeping with someone else two weeks after the fact, okay?” I point a finger at him. He nods in understanding and gives me a small smile before downing the rest of his energy drink and standing.
“Okay, well we’re both on the same page so how about we get back between the sheets?” I feel my brows lift at his ability to recover that quickly. I haven’t been with a man able to get back into the sack after only an hour.
This could be the best decision I’ve made in a long time.
“We don’t have to go back to the bed. We can move it to your office or even right here on the kitchen table,” he offers when I stay silent.
I scrunch my nose up at the thought of fucking where I eat at least twice a day.
“Let’s move it back to the bedroom. I’m sure my bed is much more comfortable than the table,” I stand and saunter past Nixon, putting a bit more sway into my hips as I walk in front of him.
; I don’t even make it halfway down the hall before Nixon has rushed me, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me in the air as he runs into my bedroom and chucks me onto my bed to begin round two.
Chapter 10
I find out quickly just how serious Nixon takes his fuck buddy role. We have sex just about everywhere- on every surface available around my house, in the back seat of his truck at the Black Bear training track, and even in the alley behind the nearby grocery store.
All within a five day span.
I know, I have no morals. But anyone who has seen Nixon King would do the same thing.
Today, I’m sitting in my office and having a conference call with one of my sponsors about my commitments for the year and how I feel the upcoming race season will bode for me.
Half way through my conversation with Will, the public relations manager for Ride High bike tires, I see someone standing in the doorway of my office.
I barely turn my head and notice Nixon leaning against the door jamb, looking at me like I’ll be his next meal.
I give him a small head shake, telling him that I’m in the middle of business and sex will have to wait with my eyes, before I turn my attention back to Will and continue our discussion about the new tire prototypes have been working for me on the track.
After a few minutes of conversation I look back to Nixon to see that he’s still standing in the doorway and his expression hasn’t changed at all.
I remove my hand from the view of the computer screen and wag my finger side to side, trying to tell Nixon that he’s going to have to wait until I’m done with business before he gets his daily dose of Emmie.
Instead of turning around and heading to the living room to watch some television or play with Otis, he walks deeper into the room, standing at the edge of my desk. He puts his hands on top of the desk and leans into me, just out of view of the camera on my monitor.
After making a few dirty hand signals of what he wants to do to me, which I keep catching out the corner of my eye and trying not to smile at while I keep my focus on the conversation Will and I are having about roosting problems in a rut, Nixon falls to his knees in front of the desk.
At first I wonder what he’s doing, then when his head disappears under my open back desk, I know. I feel his warm fingers touching the insides of my knees and then gently prying them apart. I start to fight with him, but quickly realize it looks like I’m squirming on camera and I don’t want Will to ask me if I’m okay or what’s going on, so I relent and open my legs for Nixon.
His fingers start travelling higher, soft whispers of fingertips along my thighs, followed by what feels like the tip of his tongue teasing me as I try not to squirm in my seat. I need to be professional.
To make matters easier for Nixon, I’m not wearing any bottoms. I was walking around my house in a loose purple tank top, a white sports bra and my white boy short panties when I heard a ringing noise coming from my computer. Then it clicked that I had a conference call that I definitely couldn’t miss or Collin would have killed me, so I sat down and made sure that I didn’t stand up at any point during this conversation.
So I’m now sitting in my fancy computer chair, my legs spread wide, Nixon’s head resting between them as he begins to move my panties to one side, while I talk to another man about the effects of the tread being too thick on my 450cc test bike’s tires.
“So when you come out of your double jump and land in a rut, you find that the tread is causing you to roost too much and may be slowing you down?” Will asks completely oblivious to what is happening just out of view of my computer’s camera.
Just then, Nixon’s fingers disappear from between my legs and he scoots out from under the desk. At first I’m happy that I can finish this meeting without his distraction, but then I see him grab my scissors out of a cup and disappear under the desk again.
A few seconds later I feel Nixon grab the crotch of my undies and pull them away from me, followed by the unmistakable sound of fabric being snipped. Then Nixon’s fingers find their way into my quickly soaking folds now that his obstacle has been removed. He runs them up and down slowly and then traces a circle around my swelling mound, never touching just where I need him to.
I clear my throat and try to force the sensations below my navel to numb so I can focus on Will, but it doesn’t happen. “Uh yeah. I thought that the thicker tread might help me out, but I found that there were a few different times I was roosting out a rut because the rear tire was having too much trouble finding the traction it needed to get going.”
I notice the pitch of my voice going higher a few times during just that one sentence and try to discreetly slam my thighs together and get Nixon to hang on for about five minutes. Then I will probably be done with Will and we can continue this when I don’t have to hold a conversation with someone else during foreplay.
My move does nothing but urge Nixon on. His finger finds its way inside me and he begins to move slowly, making sure to curl his fingers and hit the bundle of sensitive nerves deep inside me before drawing his finger out.
I am now struggling to keep my head from lulling back onto my shoulders and to also keep my eyes fully open. Will is taking down notes while we’re talking and his head is tilted down to focus on his paper, but whips his head back up to look at the screen when a small moan escapes my lips.
“You okay Emmie?” he asks.
Oh shit. There is no way I’m going to tell him that there is a man under my desk that is fingering me as we speak, so I try to play it off like it’s nothing.
“Oh yeah, sorry, my throat just went a little dry and I was trying to clear it.” What a stupid excuse for moaning, but Will looks like he bought it. At least I hope he bought it.
Before Will can even ask for any more suggestions to help out with the tires, Nixon adds his mouth to the mix, latching onto my clit and sucking it deep.
I feel my hands going numb from gripping the arms of my chair so tightly. Will looks back up at me from his paper and his brows draw together.
“You sure you’re okay Emmie? Your face looks a bit red,” he says, sounding concerned that my face now probably looks like a tomato.
“Mmmhmm, I’m good,” I say in a rush and then suck both lips into my mouth and bite them hard, trying to keep myself from coming in front of Will. Nixon changes tactics and starts pressing his tongue against my swollen nub while also increasing the speed of his fingers. I’m trying my damndest not to fall apart at the seams while I’m working.
I’m going to fucking kill Nixon as soon as I end this call.
“Okay, well I’ll let you get on with your day, but if you can think of anything else that will help us out just give me a call or send me an email,” he tells me. God I hope he doesn’t know what’s going on. The expression on my face must make it painfully obvious that I’m on the brink of exploding.
“Okay, thanks Will. Have a good day,” I mumble. Before he has a chance to tell me ‘goodbye’ I end the call, and not a second too soon, because as soon as I push the red X in the corner, I come on a loud moan. Nixon keeps his fingers moving, riding out my orgasm with me, until my inner walls have stopped contracting.
When I can finally move, I tilt my head down and give him my hardest death glare while he smirks at me from between my legs. I want to wrap my legs around his head and choke the life out of him with my thighs. Or maybe poke him in the eyes, Stooges style. That would wipe that cocky ass smirk off his too-hot-for-his-own-good face.
“I’m going to kill you,” I murmur down to him.
“Oh come on sugar, I could tell that you were bored out of your brain while you were on that call. I was just trying to make it a little more enjoyable for you,” he smiles.
I throw my head back a chuckle sarcastically at his ridiculous excuse for going down on me while I’m in the middle of a business meeting.
I take my now ruined underwear off and hold them in the air to show him what he’s done before tossing them into the waste ba
sket.
“Oh my god Nixon, forget that you just chopped a pair of my panties in half. If Will knew what was going on between my legs while we were on that call, which I’m not entirely sure he didn’t know what was going on there, I could lose my sponsorship with them.”
“Relax Em, you did just fine. Plus, you’re the best female MX rider in the United States, maybe even the world. They wouldn’t get rid of you just because you got a little fondling action while you were working,” he explains, sounding so sure of his answer.
“I’d better not get into trouble for that. If I do, it’s your head King,” I point down at him and then remember the torture I just endured.
It’s time for some payback.
I wear a smile but shake my head at him and then lean down to plant a few innocent kisses on his lips, which I then purposely turn into longer, more sensual kisses with the added bonus of tongue. I pull back and gaze into his eyes with the look of longing and need, ready to give him something he needs.
“So, I just got off and I think we should tend to you now,” I whisper and roll my computer chair back so I can get on the floor next to Nixon. When I’m on my knees next to him I give him my most seductive look.
“Lay down, I’m about to make you feel good,” I tell him and lightly push on his shoulders until he’s lying on the floor next to my desk, his black shorts tented from his erection.
I run my hands slowly down his abdomen and then push up under the hem of his white t-shirt, taking it up with my hands. Nixon pulls his upper body off the ground enough to remove his shirt and then lies back down.
I plant small teasing kisses along his torso, swiping my tongue along his nipples and placing little love bites along the cut muscles of his abs. I run my hand down across his bulge, letting him know that I know it’s there and will get to it in just a moment.
After some more above the waist kissing I grab the band of his shorts and slowly unbutton them. I take my time dragging them down his hips and then throw them toward the door when I get them off.
Down & Dirty Page 7
