His Kind of Trouble

by Terri L. Austin

  She was so turned on, she could barely catch her breath. “What would you do next? If I let you fuck me here.”

  “Well, next, I’d reach under your skirt.” He let go of her ass to gather the material in his fists, yanking it up, exposing her legs. He stopped and grinned when he saw her thigh highs. “Stockings. Miss Prim, you are full of surprises.”

  “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

  Cal lifted her skirt up past her panties. Satiny red panties. “Perhaps. And I’m amending the naked part. I’d let you leave on the stockings, because they’re sexy as hell.” Compliments from Cal, delivered in that husky voice, turned her into mush every time.

  His fingers circled the border of the silky thigh highs. His hands were close, so close to her swollen clit. Just another two or three inches, and he’d be right there. “Touch me, Cal. Please?”

  He grinned. “I will. Eventually.” When Cal’s tongue darted across her bare leg, near the top of her stockings, it put his face right in front of the triangle covering her pussy.

  “Okay,” Monica said, “I surrender. The floor works. Yay for office sex.” Her knees trembled, and she started to lower herself to the carpet. But Cal held her up.

  “No.” That one word locked her knees into place.

  “What? I’m on board here. Clear off the credenza or something, and let’s go.” A few minutes ago, it had seemed out of the question. Now she was desperate for him, her body needy and ready for release.

  “Who has sex on a credenza?” he asked.

  He ran his hands along her outer thighs and wiggled his thumbs past the elastic and underneath her panties. Then he slid his middle finger against her slit. Oh yes. Restless, achy, Monica bit back a moan. Back and forth, his touch so light, so whisper soft, she had to fist his hair, using it as an anchor to keep her upright. Monica’s hips jutted forward.

  “Take your skirt off.” Cal’s thumb circled her clit. It was swollen, pulsating, begging for his touch.

  Without hesitation, Monica reached around and unzipped the back of her skirt. “That feels amazing. Don’t stop.” But he did. And very gently, Cal removed his hand from her pussy. When Monica groaned at the loss, he let out a small laugh and helped her wiggle out of her skirt until it landed in a heap at her feet. She also toed off the ugly black flats, until she wore nothing but her underwear.

  “Now the bra,” he said.

  She wasn’t going to hurry this part. He’d been teasing her, now it was his turn. Bowing backward, Monica thrust out her breasts. She grinned when every bit of his attention honed in on her tits. His lips parted slightly, and his green eyes darkened.

  “This bra?” she asked. Gliding a finger along the lace-edged cup, she inclined her head to one side. “I don’t know. I’m beginning to wonder if this is a good idea after all. You haven’t told me where we’ll do it.”

  Suddenly, Cal’s hands clamped on her hips. “I’ve been remiss, darling. I’ll spell it out in detail. After you’re naked.”

  Although heat flooded her pussy, she pretended to think about it. “No, I need the details first.”

  Cal’s jaw slid to one side, and his eyes narrowed as he gazed up at her. “All right then, I’m going to spin you around to face that window. You’re going to press your hands against the glass, and I’m going to take you from behind.”

  Monica’s eyes fluttered over his face. Cal was serious. She swallowed as she turned to look at the large, unadorned glass. Her office faced an empty parking lot and a darkened medical building.

  She swung her head back to face him. “If we get any closer to the window, someone could actually see us. For real.” They’d be open to scrutiny. There may not be anyone in the other building, but she didn’t know that for sure. And if someone were up high enough, they would probably be able to see her right now, standing here in her underwear. Oh God, that shouldn’t make her heart thump in excitement. It shouldn’t make her pussy clench just imagining Cal standing behind her, pounding into her, leaving her exposed, vulnerable. But it did.

  “All the windows in the building across the way are dark,” he said. “The chance that anyone will spot us is remote.”

  “But possible. No, it’s too risky.” She didn’t sound convincing, even to her own ears.

  “You’re shaking, and your knickers are soaking wet. It excites you, doesn’t it, that risk?”

  She didn’t bother lying. “Yeah.” Monica wanted to go there. Dangerous sex with Cal—she could become addicted to this. Or she could get caught, and her life would be ruined. It almost seemed worth it, acting out this exhibitionist fantasy.

  Cal said nothing, letting her make the call.

  But it wasn’t much of a risk, not really. She hardly ever saw lights on after dark, and she worked late every night. “We could turn off the main light.” That was reasonable. A compromise—semipublic sex, but dark enough to provide some protection.

  “No, I want to watch your reflection when you come. And, Monica”—he snagged her panties and pulled them down to her knees—“you will come. Hard.” He looked into her eyes as he continued removing the scrap of material from between her legs.

  Her cunt throbbed in response. “Is that a guarantee?” She bent over and held on to his shoulder while she stepped out of her panties. He tossed them aside, and now she stood before him, her pussy bare, clad in nothing but sheer thigh highs and a screaming-red bra. Monica had never been this aroused. Calum Hughes knelt at her feet, his gaze so scorching, she felt the heat of it on her skin.

  “It is.” Cal palmed her ass, his grin lilting a little higher. “Now take off the bra.”

  “No. Not until you’re naked too.” He wasn’t the only one who wanted a show.

  Cal released her, and while still on his knees, unbuttoned his shirt. As he pulled it off his shoulders and down his tight, muscular arms, she got a glimpse of his tattoo. Celtic knots wove their way around each other, connecting to form a larger pattern.

  Monica traced her finger along the ink work at the top of his shoulder, following the intricate loops as if they were a maze. She loved that tattoo. “Where did you get this?”

  “Ireland.”

  “Does it mean something?”

  “Probably.” Cal rested his hands on her waist. “You’re wearing a bra and no knickers. Doesn’t that seem odd to you?”

  When he kissed her stomach, Monica threaded her fingers through his hair once more. “You’re still wearing pants. They need to come off.”

  Cal gracefully rose to his feet. He kicked off his shoes and discarded his socks before shucking out of the dark slacks. “Anything else I can do for you?”

  Monica stared at his boxers. Navy blue. His hard cock strained the material. “I’m sure there is, if you put your mind to it.” She stepped toward him, close enough so her breasts brushed against his smooth chest. Tucking her finger inside the elastic waistband, she gazed up at him. “Time to lose these.”

  “I think the bra should go first.” Cal played with the strap, adjusted it to one side, then, bowing his head, ran his tongue across her neck. Wrapping his hands around her upper torso, he deftly unsnapped her bra and slid it from her shoulders. Slowly.

  As the cups fell away from her breasts, Monica watched him, watched every expression that drifted across his face. He appeared almost reverent as he peeled it down her arms, exposing her fully.

  “You’re beautiful everywhere, Monica Campbell.”

  He made her feel beautiful. The way he looked at her, the way he cupped her breasts and stared at them, like they were the most amazing things he’d ever seen. When he scraped his thumbs across her nipples, Monica ran her short nails along his forearms.

  “You like it harder than that, don’t you, love?”

  There was something so hot about being with a man who knew exactly what she needed and was willing to give it to her. Biting her lip, she didn’t speak, merely nodded. So Cal obliged. He squeezed the underside of her nipples. Gently at first, then graduall
y Cal kneaded them harder in his big hands. Monica loved this rough play. It heightened her arousal, left her craving more.

  Pulling and twisting the engorged points, Cal eased off, then started all over again. He worked her up until she was so wet, so needy, she could hardly think.

  Monica’s eyes drifted shut as she tilted her chin upward. That felt delicious, his hands on her, but still, she wanted more. “Your turn. Shorts off.”

  “Not yet. I’m not done with you.” He released her nipples and bent toward her, taking one between his teeth, biting just hard enough to make Monica cry out. Then he lapped at it before latching his mouth over her breast and sucking.

  Monica’s hands ran mindlessly over Cal’s upper back. Her pussy was so ready for him. Need. Her entire body hummed with it. “Cal.” He continued to suck, and she felt the pull of it all the way to her clit. “Calum.”

  Finally, he raised his head. His cheeks were ruddy, his lips parted. Monica planted her hands on either side of his face and pulled him down for a kiss. Cal’s tongue brushed against hers. She sucked it, nibbled at it. Cal responded by biting her upper lip, groaning deep in his chest. She liked that she had this effect on him, glad she wasn’t the only one feeling this powerful lust that had taken over all reason.

  Finally, Cal pulled away. Panting, he jerked his boxer shorts off, releasing his thick, long dick. Monica stared at it. She wanted to touch, lick, stroke every single inch of him. She wanted her hands on that warm, smooth skin. Wanted to wrap herself around him and breathe him in.

  Grasping his cock with one hand, Monica rubbed the soft skin along his hard shaft, following a thick vein up to the tip. A drop of precum beaded at the surface. Brushing it with her finger, Monica spread it over the head. She removed her hand, and glancing up at him, worked that same fingertip in her mouth, twirling it along her tongue, her eyes wide.

  “Monica.” She loved the way he bit out her name, his impatient, guttural voice striking a chord deep inside her.

  Placing her hand on the base of his cock, she knelt before him. Lowering her head, she swirled her tongue across the broad tip.

  Cal scrunched his eyes closed. A tic in his jaw betrayed a shaky grasp on his self-control. He was close, and she’d barely touched him. Still, she couldn’t help but tease him a little more.

  “Do you like that?” Rhetorical question. She smiled as she lapped upward, along the length of him. Then, taking him in her mouth, she sucked gently. Cal’s cock twitched against her lips.

  “Darling, I have plans,” he said. “Plans that involve taking you from behind, watching you in the window as your tits sway back and forth.”

  The tip of Monica’s tongue darted over his slit, granting her another taste of salty liquid. She still hadn’t relinquished her grip at the base. She liked feeling this way, playful and powerful, while Cal stood almost helpless, a slave to her mouth, her hands. She could take him now, like this. But she wanted him inside of her, wanted to feel this magnificent cock ramming in and out of her, to feel him from behind. And as he watched her in the window’s reflection, she’d be watching him. She wanted to be naughty with him, possibly revealing herself as he took her in full view of anyone who could be walking by.

  She let go of him and rose to her feet. “You should make plans more often.”

  “I’ve been thinking about fucking you all bloody day.” He leaned down and nipped her chin. “I love that little cleft.” Then he snatched her around the waist and lifted her up, until her face was level with his. “Kiss me.”

  Wrapping her arms and legs around him, Monica complied. With Cal’s cock wedged between them, she planted her lips on his, stroking her tongue into his mouth. She’d had boyfriends in the past who didn’t like to kiss after she’d gone down on them. Cal wasn’t like that. He was earthy, sensual.

  She broke away. “Condom?”

  “Right.” He stared hard at her lips.

  Monica swept her hands across his shoulder blades. His skin—tanned and smooth over powerful, striated muscles—warmed her palms. Monica angled her head and licked that tattoo, curling her tongue along his taut bicep. She smiled up at him. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you working on the Mustang.”

  “You should have done. It’s quite an icebreaker. The condom’s in my trousers. That means I’m going to have to put you down.”

  “But you’ll get to fuck me. Seems like a good tradeoff.”

  “A very good tradeoff. You’ll have to unwrap your legs from around my waist, though.”

  Monica stroked his cheek. “In a second. One more kiss.”

  “One more,” he agreed.

  There was nothing gentle about it, and Monica needed that. Needed the way he devoured her, his tongue thrusting against hers, his lips almost brutal in their intensity. He sucked her bottom lip as he lifted his head. Finally, he let it go. “All right now, legs down.”

  Monica unwrapped her calves from his lean hips, and Cal dropped her to the ground. He snagged his pants, quickly dug in the pocket, and removed a condom and rolled it on. Then taking her shoulders, he spun her around, just as he’d promised, and marched her forward.

  Monica searched the building across the way. No lights, no sign of movement. This was insane. Insanely hot. She glanced at herself, barely recognizing the naked, sexy woman with messy hair and puffy lips.

  “Bend over, Miss Prim. Hands on the glass,” Cal ordered. Monica obeyed, and with her feet in a wide stance, she bent over, but kept her head tilted up so she could see him. This was the craziest thing she’d done in years, and it scared her. But titillated too. Cal did this to her—freed that part of her she never thought she’d see again.

  In the glass, Cal’s reflection looked like a naked, hot specter. Meeting her gaze, he ran his palm down her spine—then he gave her ass a not so light tap.

  Monica shrieked at the unexpected swat. She liked it. The afterburn caused the walls of her pussy to tighten. “After this, you won’t be able to call me Miss Prim.”

  Without warning, Cal thrust once, burying himself deep inside her. Grasping her hips with both hands, he yanked her backward. “Oh, you’ll have to do more than this to lose the nickname.”

  Monica had no idea what he had in mind, but she was down for it. The tendons in his neck strained as he began to move, slowly.

  “You feel so good.” He bit out the words.

  “Faster.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Damn it, Cal. You took it slow last time.”

  His smile rose a notch. “And I’m going to take it slow this time too.”

  Keeping his steady pace, Cal pumped his cock inside of her, drew it out, then slid back home. The friction drove her crazy, and yet he never changed the momentum. She didn’t know how he could stand it, but she’d get even. He was punishing her for some reason, and she’d return the favor. One of these times, Cal would be the one begging her for release. Monica was going to enjoy that.

  Using one hand, he reached out to massage her breast. She longed to touch him back, but kept her hands plastered against the cool glass.

  The pressure inside of her kept building as Cal glided back and forth. Her pussy became slicker with every minute that passed. She was so close. The added stimulation of watching him fuck her pushed her to the brink.

  “Cal, please. Please. Harder. I need it. You promised.”

  “So I did.” Dropping her breast, he used that hand to grab a fistful of her hair. Cal dug the fingers of his other hand into her hip.

  When he started pumping deep and fast, Monica almost lost her balance. “Harder.”

  His grip dug into her skin. He hung onto her hair like a rein. This was exactly what she liked.

  Cal’s arms flexed as he slammed into her. When he thrust his hips forward, Monica’s breasts swayed, just as he said they would, and he watched them with complete concentration.

  Monica came then, crying out. She closed her eyes as powerful sensations coursed through her, curling up th
rough her clit, causing every muscle in her body to clench. On and on it went, tunneling through her, making her dizzy as she held her breath.

  Cal continued to fuck her until he came too. He let out a hoarse yell, and his body shuddered as he paused for a moment, thrust again, then jerked her hips back against him. “Monica.”

  His cock spasmed, and Monica’s muscles tightened around it. A smaller, less intense orgasm rocked her. Monica’s hand slipped down the glass, but Cal’s firm hold kept her from falling. Aftershocks sizzled through her as he continued to drive into her.

  Once his own orgasm subsided, Cal stilled. Loosening his grasp on her hip, he unclenched his fist, letting go of her hair. Stroking a hand down her shoulder, Cal continued to rub her back, his hand warm and soothing against her skin.

  She didn’t think he could top their last time in the Mustang, but he had. He’d pushed her, challenged her, and now he touched her with such tenderness, she melted a little bit.

  They remained in place, both breathing hard for some minutes. Finally, Cal removed himself and stepped away. Monica’s legs shook as she lowered herself to the floor and lay on her side, completely spent. Cal discarded the condom before stretching out next to her.

  “You are brilliant.” He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek.

  She gave him a tired smile. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  “Not so bad? I delivered on my promise, love. I made you come. Hard. I could feel your cunt tighten around me.” He gave her hair a gentle tug.

  “I could have been faking, you know.”

  Before she could take her next breath, Monica found herself on her back with Cal lying on top of her. His eyes glimmered a bright green. “You were faking that rousing, bloody fantastic orgasm, were you?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I wasn’t faking.” Monica reached up and lightly slugged his shoulder. “You’re a real champ in the sex department. Do you want a trophy or something?”

  “Yes, I do. A trophy would do nicely.”

  Monica burst out laughing. “God, you’re so arrogant.”

  He grinned back. “But a brilliant lover.” He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck.