I picked up the stacks of one hundred-dollar bills and shoved them in my bag. Contrary to what was commonly depicted in movies, two hundred and eighty thousand dollars in one hundred-dollar bills was nothing more than two big handfuls of currency.
Two six-inch stacks, to be exact.
“I can’t believe you’ve had the money all this time,” I said. “It pisses me off, to be honest.”
“Dude. I’ve been running on empty for like, ever.”
I hoisted the bag to my shoulder and looked the home over. It wasn’t a mansion, but in Southern California, even a modest two-bedroom ranch would cost upward of a million, and his home wasn’t modest.
“It sure doesn’t look like it,” I said.
“I’m still driving that Land Rover,” he whined. “Can’t afford to be buying new whips, like you.”
“Don’t worry about what I’m doing, Marty. I suggest you focus on yourself.” I glanced toward the door. “C’mon. I’ll give you a ride back to your car.”
“So, the chick in the car was a salesman? Woman? Or whatever?”
The fact he even noticed Jess made me angry. His asking caused my muscles to tense. I clenched my teeth and shot him a glare. “Yeah.”
He ran his fingers through his mop of hair and then began to leisurely saunter toward the door. “Here in Escondido?”
“Stay away from her, Marty,” I seethed.
“You’re not--”
“I’m telling you to stay away from her,” I said through my teeth. “I know where you live now. Remember that.”
“Dude, I was just--”
“Here’s a suggestion. Keep your mouth shut until we get back to my place. After tonight, we’ll never see each other again. Both of us will be happy.”
“Dude. She’s, like, my age.”
“I mean it.” I shot him a glare. “Not another fucking word.”
The thirty-minute ride to retrieve his car was peaceful and without incident. After dropping him off and escorting him to the gate, I checked the time. It was a little after one a.m. I doubted Jess was still up, but that didn’t prevent me from thinking of her.
Since leaving her apartment, I repeatedly found myself daydreaming about fucking her. As much as I sure we would have both enjoyed it, I couldn’t have sex with her when she was inebriated. I realized having sex with anyone – regardless of my justification for doing so – brought along with it many risks, most of which I wasn’t normally willing to take.
But, try as I might, I couldn’t shake the thought of her from the forefront of my mind.
I drove through the gate, shut it, and then pulled the car to the side of the road. Following a five-minute mental struggle, I pulled my phone from my bag, swiped my thumb against the screen, and stared blankly at the many application choices.
I pressed the text icon, typed Jess a quick text, and then pressed send. Text remorse followed, but it was too late to change matters.
When she woke up, I was sure I’d have my answer.
I shifted the car into gear, checked for traffic, and released the brake.
The phone’s screen illuminated.
I picked it up and looked at the screen. The two-word response from Jess brought a smile to my face.
Sounds great.
I tossed the phone into the passenger seat and pressed the accelerator pedal to the floor. I needed to get back to La Jolla and get some sleep, especially if I was going to make a memorable impression.
7
Jessica
I reread the message from Vince.
I’ll pick you up for lunch at 12:00. Wear a dress. No panties. No excuses. No alcohol. No argument.
Although fucking Vince seemed like a great idea when I was drunk, doing so when I was sober allowed my conscience to come into play. I wasn’t convinced it was professional or practical.
It would, however, be fun. After my last breakup and subsequent plummet into sexual nothingness, it could be a one-time treat to myself. I could add to my list of notable life experiences. If nothing else, it would put an end to my sexual dry spell.
I gazed at the contents of my overstuffed closet. I had many options, some of which would look fabulous. If he wanted me sans panties, I could rock a form-fitting dress that would make his eyes bulge.
Or, I could wear something a little more practical.
After a lengthy struggle which included trying on everything in my closet, I made my decision and drove to work.
In anticipation of my lunch date, I spent the entire morning pantiless and excessively horny. Wet, wondering, and little worried, I checked the clock on fifteen-minute intervals until 11:45. Then, I stood gazing through my office window and into the parking lot, hoping that his message wasn’t a drunken late-night text that he later regretted.
At 11:58, a silver AMG Mercedes G-Wagon eased through the lot and came to a stop in the customer parking area. Through the tinted windows, I noticed the outline of Vince’s adorable – and slightly unruly – mop of hair.
Dressed in a pair of ass-hugging jeans, black boots, and a black tee-shirt, he looked different than normal.
Fantastically so.
The shirt clung to his broad chest, all but advertising his athletic physique. In his slow predictable pace, he made his way toward the front door. Focusing on the slightly exaggerated movements of his hips and shoulders made my nether region ache, but my eyes remained stuck to him like glue, nonetheless. At the moment he reached the entrance, I rushed to my desk and sat down.
In no time, he was at my door.
“Ready?” he asked.
With a week-old contract in hand, I looked up. Feigning surprise, I met his gaze, and then gave a few overstated blinks.
“Is it noon already?”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s a minute past.”
“Oh.” I tossed the documents aside. “This morning was a disaster. I didn’t realize what time it was.”
Excitedly, I grabbed my purse. As my mouth curled into a giddy grin, I fought to conceal it and act indifferent to my lunch date.
“How long do you get for lunch?” he asked.
“An hour. Give or take.”
He stepped to the side and motioned toward the door. “After you.”
Without looking back, I walked past him and across the showroom, trying my best to demonstrate a Victoria’s Secret runway strut. Upon reaching the front door, I paused and glanced over my shoulder.
His eyes were fixed on my ass.
So far, everything seemed to be working in my favor.
He stepped around me and opened the door. I started to walk toward the SUV he was driving, but quickly decided I didn’t want him to know I was eagerly peering out the window as he drove into the dealership.
I looked the parking lot over, and then glanced at him. “Where’s your car?”
His gaze shot from my ass to my eyes. “I’m driving the silver Mercedes wagon.”
I turned around and looked at it in mock surprise. “Oh.”
He unlocked the door and opened it for me. As he held it, I hoisted myself into place, making sure to give him a longer glimpse of my bare legs than I normally would have.
He grinned and closed the door.
While he walked to the other side of the vehicle, I looked the luxurious interior over. I realized as he got in that he wasn’t carrying his bag, nor was it in sight. Normally something that was an extension of him, it was odd seeing him without it.
“You don’t have your bag,” I said. “It’s weird seeing you without it.”
He looked me over and then started the car. “I like that dress. A lot.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not working,” he said. “I don’t carry it when I’m off work.”
With my eyes fixed on the tattoos adorning his muscular bicep, I gave a nod. “I see.”
I’d worked myself into a sexually frustrated frenzy while waiting for him. Now that he was sitting across from me, I could feel my heart beating between m
y legs. He, on the other hand, seemed rather nonchalant for having ordered me to accompany him to lunch without panties.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked.
He glanced over his right shoulder. “Plan? That’s something we should probably discuss.”
“Okay.”
“Are you ready?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll reremind you. I’m not relationship material. Do you remember me telling you that?”
“I do.”
“Considering that, you’re willing to continue this exercise?”
I crossed my legs and gave him a soft look. “Do you remember the three types of men that exist in my world?”
He smiled. “I do.”
“Well, I don’t want to marry you or kill you. That only leaves on thing. But, don’t worry, I’m not going to get attached. I’m on a ninety-five-day dry spell right now.” I gazed out the side window. “Not that I’m counting.”
“Ninety-five days?” He barked out a laugh. “How does something like that happen with someone like you?”
I shifted my eyes to him. “What do you mean?”
“You’re gorgeous. You’re easy to be around. You’re intelligent, or at least you seem to be. How can you not be in a relationship?”
“The last guy was a little too violent toward me. I told him if he didn’t change, I was going to leave. He didn’t. I did.”
“Abusive?”
“Quite.”
“Text me his address and a picture of him.”
“Why?”
“Anyone who abuses women needs a chance to do the same to a man. I want to give him that opportunity and see how well he handles it.”
I grinned at the thought. “I appreciate it, but that’s okay. I’m able to take care of myself, and I did. I left him. It’s over.”
“You’re no longer in touch?”
“I haven’t seen him since I left. I changed my number. He’s too worried to come around me in public. So, as long as he doesn’t know where I live, I’m fine.”
He alternated glances between the street and me. “Give me his address anyway.”
“I’ll consider it. So, what’s the plan?”
“Do you peel apples before you eat them?”
“Huh?”
“Apples. Do you peel them?”
“No.”
“How often do you wash your car?”
“When it needs it. Why?”
“Do you like to draw?”
“Draw? Like on paper?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
“I don’t. Well. I can’t. Therefore, I don’t.”
“If you had to drive to Los Angeles, and you could pick any time of the day to do it, when would you make the journey?”
I chuckled. “At midnight.”
“Why?”
“There’s no traffic at midnight.” I crossed my legs and gave him a look. “What’s with the questions?”
“It tells me a little more about you.”
“That was a rudimentary psychological evaluation?”
“Of sorts.”
I glanced at his bulging bicep as he turned the corner. “Interesting.”
“Now, to answer your question, here’s the plan.” He looked me over from head to toe – slowly. “I’m going to hike that dress above your waist, bend you over, and shove you so full of cock that it takes your breath away. While you’re trying to decide what the hell happened, I’ll grab ahold of your hips and continue to shove you full of cock until your legs go weak. Then, right before you collapse into a pile at my feet, I’m going to pull out. Not because I don’t want to finish, but so I can bury my face in your twat while you’re in that weakened state. Then, with my mouth pressed hard against your throbbing little pussy, I’ll suck on your clit until you come all over my face. That, Jess, is the plan for the next...” He glanced at his watch and then met my wide-eyed gaze. “Forty-nine minutes. Any questions?”
My face went hot. As far as afternoon quickies went, it sounded like a fabulous plan.
“I uhhm.” I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth and swallowed hard. “No. No questions.”
“Sound like a good plan?”
I fanned my face with my hand, and then raised my index finger. “It does, but there’s only one problem.”
“What’s that?”
If he thought for one moment that his graphic description embarrassed me, or made me feel uncomfortable, he was wrong. I was far from a prude, and was perfectly capable of giving him a little of his own medicine.
“My guess is that it’ll take you about ten minutes to complete that task. Not knowing where we’re going, but assuming it’ll take us ten minutes to get there, we’re left with twenty-nine minutes.” I turned sideways in my seat and looked him up and down. “In those twenty-nine minutes, I plan on wrapping my lips around the tip of your cock, looking you in the eyes, and then sucking it with a level of expertise that you had no idea even existed. Yes, Vince, I love sucking cock, and I’m rather good at it. About four minutes into the blowjob that you’ll spend a lifetime comparing all other blowjobs to, you’re going to come. Right down my throat. Then, I’ll drag my lips down along your stiff shaft, taking every last drop with me when I do. That’ll leave us twenty-five minutes to get a cup of coffee at Starbucks and a taco at Pete’s. Any questions?”
His Adam’s apple rose, and then fell. After wiping his forehead with his wrist, he turned a corner and came to a stop.
“I’ve got one,” he said.
My description of sucking his cock had me ready to jump him right then and there. I ogled the muscular structure of his bare arm and wished he was holding me down with it while he was fucking me senseless.
When he cleared his throat the fog of sexual frustration lifted. I wondered how long I’d been staring at him.
I shook my head. “What uhhm. What is it? Your question?”
“If this goes the way I hope it does, can we do it again?”
“I’ll let you know when we’re done.” I said, fighting against the urge to grin.
He gave a quick nod. “Fair enough.” He motioned toward my door. “Get out.”
8
Vince
“What are we doing?” she asked.
Her ass looked fabulous in the sleeveless black dress she’d chosen. I pried my eyes from it and met her gaze. “I thought we’d already discussed that?”
“Here?” She glanced around and then gave me a confused look. “We’re fucking here? Out in the open?”
We were parked behind a warehouse that had been vacant for a few months. Although we were outside, we weren’t necessarily in public. Not to say that the world was incapable of seeing us, but they would certainly have to try hard to do so.
I swung the cargo door of the SUV open. “Come over here.”
She peered around the corner of the vehicle. “I can’t decide if this is weird, or hot.”
“It’s sexy as fuck,” I said. “Believe me.”
She tossed her hair over her shoulders and then fluffed it with her fingers. Her gaze lowered to my rock-hard cock. After a long stare, she looked up. “I think you might be right.”
I curled my index finger toward my palm. “Come. Here.”
She edged her way between me and the back bumper and stood nose to nose with me. With her face mere inches from mine, she looked me in the eyes. “I’m not afraid of you, Mister.”
“You should be.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Why?”
“Because I’m a prick.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Mister Prick.”
With my eyes locked on hers, I positioned my hand between her legs. Slowly, I traced the tips of my fingers along her inner thigh, lifting her knee-length dress in the process. Her eyes widened as the tip of my index finger met her soaking wet twat.
I pressed my lips to her ear. “Your mind’s been wandering, Jess. You’ve got a mess down here.”
“I uhhm.” She swa
llowed heavily. “I may have been thinking about sucking your cock.”
I wedged the length of my finger into her wet slit, rubbing my knuckle against her clit as I did so. She flinched in response, and then her eyes fell closed.
“I’m going to stuff this wet little hole of yours full of cock, Jess.” I breathed into her ear. “While you’re bent over the back of this car.”
She writhed in response. “Okay,” she murmured.
I patted my left hand against the carpeted cargo area of the car. “Palms down. Right here.”
She drew a slow breath and turned toward the car. As she placed her palms flat on the carpet, I pushed my index finger deeper into her.
She sucked a breath. “Oh God.”
With my chest against her back, I forced her to bend at the waist. I pushed my finger in and out of her wetness a few times, and then leaned forward and pressed my cheek against hers. “We might have a problem.”
“What…what kind of…problem?” she muttered.
“Your pussy is tiny.”
“That’s a…it’s a problem?”
“Reach back here and squeeze my cock,” I said. “You can tell me if it’s a problem or not.”
With her chest pressed against the carpet and her ass hiked high in the air, she fumbled against the denim of my jeans until she found my aching cock.
“Oh God,” she gasped. “It’s…it’s really big, isn’t it?”
“Huge,” I said.
“I think we’ll be okay.” She gave it a firm squeeze. “Let’s find out.”
I flipped the hem of her dress over her waist. The milky skin of her inner thighs came to a stop on either side of her pussy, leaving a gap between her legs two inches wide. I gazed blankly at the beautiful sight – with my finger still buried deep inside her – and let out a sigh.
“You’ve got a pretty little pussy, Jess.”
“Thank you.”
With Jess still bent over the back of the SUV and me standing behind her, I wrestled a condom onto my throbbing dick.
I gripped the shaft in my hand and guided the tip against her wet folds.
Her hands searched frantically for something to hold onto. After grasping the cargo cover tightly, she peered over her shoulder. “Do it.”
Mister Prick Page 4
