Something So Perfect

by Natasha Madison

  Another thing my neurotic husband did was install the perfect water gauge. I let the water fall over my shoulders, putting my neck forward. I don’t hear the door open and Matthew step in, but I feel him on my back, his hands cupping my breasts, rolling my nipples. I moan out, my hands going to the back where I fist him in my hands, stroking his cock. He leans over, kissing my neck while his hands travel down with the stream of water, his fingers running over my landing strip right before they roll over my clit and his fingers enter me. My head now falls back on his shoulder, my fist moving at the same speed as his fingers in me.

  “Missed you, babe.” I turn my head to meet his lips, our kiss like coming home every single time. His tongue twirls with mine, our mouths hungry. The hand that isn’t stroking him leans back to pull his hair.

  His fingers come out of me. His lips leave mine. “Gotta taste you,” he says, pushing me to the bench in the back of the shower. “Sit down and open for me,” he orders.

  I sit on the bench, my back to the cold tiles giving me goose bumps all over my body. I put my feet on the seat ledge, bending my legs to the side.

  Matthew gets on his knees in front of me, his hands cupping my breasts again, rolling the nipples, then leaning forward and taking one in his mouth, then biting down on it, the zing going straight to my core. He repeats the same thing to the other nipple. “Matthew.” My head rolls on the wall. My back arches away from the wall.

  “My girl wants to come?” He kisses down my stomach. “How do you want to come?” he asks, kissing my inner left thigh. “On my finger?” He kisses the right thigh now. “On my tongue?” He kisses me right above my clit. “Or my cock?” he says, taking two fingers and opening me up. “Hmmm.” Is the last thing he says before he sucks my clit into his mouth, then trails his tongue to the bottom where his tongue slides into me. His fingers join his tongue, my hips thrusting upward to get him deeper into me.

  My eyes watch his finger and tongue play with me, sliding in and out, rubbing me in all the right places. “I’m going to come,” I tell him, grabbing his head, pushing it into my pussy, and I ride his face up and down, my fingers now rubbing my clit frantically back and forth. I’m about to let go when his tongue comes out of my pussy. His face rips away. He pulls me to stand up. I moan my displeasure the whole time.

  “You get to come on my cock,” he says, sitting on the bench. “Come get it.”

  His cock is in his hand, pushing it up. I walk to him, my feet going outside of his. I put one foot on the bench next to his hips, with the other on the other side. I take his cock in my hand, rubbing it through my folds, placing it at my entrance, and sliding down on him so fucking slow I feel every ridge that he has, every single vein all the way to the end, all the way till his balls hit my ass. My hands go to the back of his knees while I use my legs to go up and down on him, the angle making him hit my G-spot right away.

  “Look at your pussy take my cock,” he says, watching us, watching my pussy swallow all of his cock. The sight makes my pussy quiver. “Look at this clit.” His finger goes into his mouth, wetting it and then rubbing it in circles while I ride him. He takes my clit in between his two fingers, squeezing the shit out of it, the pain making me rise up and then slam back down. My legs burn, my arms start to shake, and his cock grows bigger in me. “Atta girl. Come on my cock,” he says, leaning forward, taking a nipple in his mouth while he bites down.

  It’s too much and with that final move I moan and come all over his cock. I come and come and come. My pussy spasms all over him. My eyes close and I feel his cock grow bigger and his hands on my hips now slam me down on him and he comes in me. My mouth covers his, swallowing his roar. When his hands roam from my hips up my back I know he is finished. Taking my mouth from his, I lean forward, our chests heaving against each other.

  “Never gets old,” he says, kissing the top of my wet head. “I could be old with only one hip and I would always find a way to make love to you.”

  I smile to myself. I wouldn't have it any other way.

  When I finally slide into bed, he looks over at me, seeing me with a top on. “You know the rules. Kids aren’t here, we are naked.”

  I roll my eyes at him and take off the shirt, throwing it on my table.

  “And the panties, babe.”

  I shake my head, taking them off and putting them on top of my shirt.

  “How long are you home for?” I ask him, settling on my pillow while he watches SportsCenter.

  “It’s a break, so five glorious days. I told Allison if she called me during these five days for any business I would block her from attending Christmas.” Another thing that has changed is that Allison is now the team’s Public Relations person. Mindy took another job at the same time that Allison graduated. It was a win-win for everyone. Well, except Matthew, who has to see his beautiful sister being hit on by his teammates. I’m not even going to get into the amount of things she signed him up to volunteer for and when he wanted to yell at her, she would use her my big brother is the best speech and he would do it.

  “Well, this is interesting,” the sportscaster says, “we got more Max Horton drama,” the reporter starts saying.

  I sit up in bed, watching the television while Matthew chuckles beside me.

  “Allison is going to rip him a new asshole. I can’t wait to watch this.”

  The reporter continues, “It seems that the bad boy of NHL has eloped. And the word on the ice is that the new bride is none other than Allison Grant.” My mouth flies open while Matthew immediately sits up, grabbing his phone. “Allison is none other than Matthew Grant’s sister, as well as Cooper Stone’s stepdaughter.” He stops talking for a second.

  “You will remember that Max was charged as an accomplice to the rape charge that came six years ago. Of course those charges were dropped and he was cleared of all charges against him.”

  He turns off the television, getting out of bed while I watch him dial Allison and it must go straight to voice mail. “Aly, you get this message, you call me.” He hangs up and then starts dialing another number. “You better fucking hope that what I heard is a fucking rumor.” He hangs up, looking at me.

  “I guess now would be a bad time to tell you I’m pregnant again?” I smile at him, hoping that this news brings him down before the vein in his head actually explodes.

  THE END

  SOMETHING SO IRRESISTIBLE

  COMING JAN 2018

  About The Author

  When her nose isn't buried in a book, or her fingers flying across a keyboard writing, she's in the kitchen creating gourmet meals. You can find her, in four inch heels no less, in the car chauffeuring kids, or possibly with her husband scheduling his business trips. It's a good thing her characters do what she says, because even her Labrador doesn't listen to her...

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  Something So Right

  Prologue

  Giddy like a kid in a candy store, I skip up the front steps of the house. I haven’t seen him since he skated off the ice this morning and left me squirming in the locker room. Who knew dirty talk could be downright titillating? This girl right here, that’s who.

  I should just walk in like I normally do, but the door is locked, so I ring the doorbell, glancing around at the other houses. It’s so peaceful this time of day. Families getting ready to either go to the big football game or making dinner. The sound of footsteps draws my attention back to the door, with the goofiest smile I’ve ever had.

  “Hey—” The words die in my throat as I see a blond girl with legs all the way up to her throat wearing the same T-shirt he had on today. This can’t be happening. Heart pounding to an erratic rhythm, all the blood must have rushed to my head because I’m suddenly hot.

  “Can
I help you?” Barbie asks, all perky and shit.

  “Ummm,” I stumble, trying to find my words because all I can think about is getting out of there before I embarrass myself or better yet get arrested for attempted murder. I mean, he was just with me almost naked!

  “I was looking for Coop. Is he here?” The words finally dislodge from my throat.

  She twirls her hair in her hand. Of course she does. She’s a fucking Barbie. “Yeah, he just stepped in the shower. Who are you?”

  “Oh, um, I’m Parker, his rehab coach.”

  “Oh, I heard so much about you. I’m Monica, the fiancée,” she says, flashing her five-carat ring.

  How did I not notice that rock while she was twirling her fucking hair?

  “Nice to meet you. I was just dropping by to let him know the hours have changed for practice tomorrow and that Tom will be there to assist him,” I say flatly, proud of myself for not saying what’s really on my mind.

  “Okay, do you want to come in and wait for him? He should be out any second.”

  Is she out of her fucking mind? I’m totally going to be superficial and say she’s a fucking airhead.

  “No.” I smile. “I’m headed out of town, so if you can just let him know.”

  “Oh, I’ll totally tell him.”

  Ugh, is that bile coming up my throat?

  “Thanks.” Without another word, I dash down the steps and whip my cell phone out. How, how in the ever loving fuck is this happening again? How is this possible? How many fucking people did I piss off on that Karma bus?

  Meg answers on the first ring.

  “Road trip.” My voice cracks, and I don’t know how, but she knows. She just knows I need her.

  “I’m packing. I’ll be ready in five.”

  A sob makes it out just as I press end and throw my phone across the car. I hope it smashes into pieces like my heart is right now.

  Tempt The Boss

  I’m singing along to Maroon Five’s “Don’t Wanna Know” when a call comes in. Penelope’s name flashes on the screen. Penelope is my friend from college, the only friend who I kept in touch with. She runs an HR firm that specializes in placing temps. She is the reason I have this job right now.

  “Hello,” I say while I wait for her voice to fill the car.

  “Hey, there, just checking in. You ready?” she asks me. I hear her rustling papers in the background, so I know she is already at her desk.

  “Yup, I’m on my way there now. I’m so nervous, I may puke, though. But I’ll be on time.” I chuckle at the thought of me barfing all over my new boss. I brake for the traffic that is slowing to a crawl in front of me when I feel my van jerk forward slightly. My head flies forward and then snaps back. Looking in my mirror, I see that someone just hit me.

  “Oh my god. Someone just ran into me. Fuck me, P. I have to call you back,” I say, unlocking my seatbelt and climbing out of the car.

  I put my Tory Birch sunglasses on top of my head, walking to the back to see the damage. I don’t even have time to get there before I hear a raspy voice ask, “What the hell is wrong with you? You just stopped!” I put a hand over my eyes to block the sun and see him. And boy, do I see him. My heart skips a beat when he whips his aviator sunglasses off his face.

  He’s about six feet tall, maybe taller, with dark hair that’s short on the sides and a bit longer at the top, which almost looks like it was combed back by his hands. His eyes are a mossy green with shimmery gold flecks in them that I can see thanks to the sun hitting them just right. A freshly-shaven face that shows off the strong angles of his jaw and hints at where I’m sure a five-o’clock-shadow of delicious stubble will emerge in a few hours.

  He’s wearing a suit minus the jacket. His dark blue pants are a perfect fit, molding to him like they were made especially for him, and from the looks of them, they probably were. His crisp, white dress shirt is open at the collar and covers his broad chest and thick biceps. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and show off a big, masculine silver Rolex watch.

  He throws his hand up as he angrily asks, “Is something wrong with you? Are you drunk?”

  I take a step back, putting my hand to my stomach. “Are you talking to me?” I look around wondering if there is someone else he could be talking to. “You hit me. You. Hit. Me.” I storm to the back of the car to assess the damage. I see that my bumper is a bit scratched, but his Porsche is going to need some body work.

  “I can’t believe this. I can’t flipping believe this! Now I’m going to be late because you were probably too busy on your phone texting to pay attention to the road.” I walk to my car, opening the door and leaning across the seat to grab my purse. Cars pass us slowly, everyone taking a look to see what’s going on.

  Looking at the clock on the dash, I see that I have to be at my new job in twenty minutes. Grabbing my license, registration, and insurance ID card, I slam the door and walk over to see him leaning on the side of my car, watching me.

  “I’m going to be late. Is there any way we can just exchange numbers and get all the information after?” I ask, looking through the papers.

  I hear him huff. “You probably don’t have insurance, which is why you want to call me later so you can get some while I drive around with a missing a light.” He walks over to his car, leans down, and grabs his phone from the driver’s seat.

  I look at him. “So, you weren’t on the phone? Riiighhhhttt,” I say glaring at him.

  “I don’t have all day. Some of us have actual work to do. What do you want from me?” His tone is snarky.

  “Actually, I don’t want anything from you. My car has a scratch, yours is the one that is damaged. Besides, it wasn’t even my fault. Maybe we should call the police to make a report so we can get it on the record that you were driving while texting.” I lean my head to the side. “I’m not a police officer or anything, but I think that’s against the law.”

  He snarls at me, “Just give me your number.” I tell him my number, and when he asks my name, I gladly tell him. “The woman whose car you hit because you were texting while driving.” He looks at me and his eyebrows pinch together. “Is that name already taken?” I ask him, waiting for his answer. When I realize he isn’t going to reply, I ask him, “Now, what’s yours?” He shoots off his number, and I store it in my phone.

  I turn around to walk away. “Aren’t you going to ask me my name?” He puts his hands on his hips, his biceps bulging and his chest looking impossibly broader.

  “Nope, no need. I just put you under ‘Asshat who texts while driving and hit my car.’” I smile at him. “Have a fabulous day,” I grumble, turning around and getting back in the car.

  Fuck. I see that I now have ten minutes to get there. I dial Penelope right after I buckle and take off watching the asshole get into his car. “I think I might still make it,” I tell her even before she says hello.

  “It’s okay. I called and told them there was an accident on the way, and they said not to worry, that Austin was going to be late, too. So, you’re still good to go. How’s the damage?” she asks.

  “Minivan: 1 – Porsche: 0.” I laugh and tell her I’ll check back in with her at lunch.

  When I finally make it to the office building, I check my face and apply lip gloss one more time before walking inside. I look at my phone and notice that I’m only seven minutes late. Not bad all things considered. I walk in and tell the security guard I am there for Barbara at Mackenzie Jacob Associates. When he calls up, he gets the all clear to send me up.

  I make my way up to the forty-sixth floor and walk to the receptionist, who is smiling from ear-to-ear. “Hi. I’m here to see Barbara. My name is Lauren. I’m the temp,” I explain as she gets up and comes around to shake my hand, introducing herself as Carmen. She then takes me back to meet Barbara.

  Barbara is short with white hair, and her glasses are perched on her nose. “Hey, there, Lauren. I’m so happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard great things from Penelope.” She reaches out to
shake my hand and motions for me to sit down.

  “Thank you so much, and I’m so sorry I’m late. I was in a little fender bender, and I tried to finish as fast as I could,” I tell her, sitting down in the chair in front of her desk.

  “No worries. I heard Austin was going to be about ten minutes late, but he got here right before you did. Now, if you will fill out these papers here, I will get your elevator pass ready for you,” she says while she goes to her cabinet in the corner.

  Because this is just a temp job, I don’t have to do much. Just an emergency contact form. “Now, I should warn you that this is the tenth temp we have hired for this position… this month,” she finishes quickly.

  I look at her, confused. “But it’s only the seventeenth of November.” My heart starts racing. What if he throws me out? What if he laughs at me since I haven’t worked in ten years?

  “Mr. Mackenzie is, um, well… special to work for,” she murmures while looking down at the papers in front of her and not even trying not make eye contact with me.

  “Special? What does that mean?” I ask, my eyebrows pinching together.

  “Let’s just say that my money is on you.” She gets up. “Shall we?” She points to the door. I nod at her, trying to get some saliva going in my mouth. It’s dry, and my palms are sweating. I think my armpits are actually starting to sweat, too. Oh boy. I can’t do this. I should turn around and run away.

  But before I can make my move, we reach a door that is closed. The big brown door is solid, and the windows that look out into the office have their shades drawn. I hear Barbara knock on the door before we enter.

  I don’t see much in front of her. I just look around the office at the view of the city, since there are wall-to-wall windows affording it an amazing view. I don’t have a chance to look much further, because all I hear is a raspy voice asking, “Are you fucking stalking me? Did you follow me here?” I whip my head around to look at him.

  Just my luck. It’s the asshat from this morning, the one who hit me. Except now, the asshat is sitting behind the desk, the desk that apparently belongs to my new temporary boss.