L.A. Fire

by Sarah Bailey

  “So that’s what that fancy bed frame is for,” I said, my tone saucy.

  Julian grunted. “With you it’s definitely going to good use.”

  He pulled down his swim trunks, exposing his magnificent, bulging cock. I stared at it in awe, hungry for it. “You’re my sex slave, now, do you understand?” he said.

  I looked at him solemnly, and nodded. He lifted up my leg and slapped my butt cheek. “Answer me,” he said sharply.

  I felt my sex clench eagerly at his commanding tone. “I’m your sex slave,” I said.

  “Good,” he said firmly. “Now spread your legs wide and show me your tight little cunt.”

  A delicious heat flushed through my body, and I did as he said. He stared down at me, his eyes riveted to my exposed folds, and made a snarling sound deep in his throat. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, then ran a finger possessively along my clit. I squirmed, and he stilled my hips, then pounced on the bed and straddled me. He looked down at me, the intensity in his eyes making my breath catch. “I’m going to fuck you hard, Sarah. Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” I said, my voice breathy and quivering. He reached for my nipples, tugging and stroking them, and pressed his cock to the entrance of my pussy. The moment I felt his hard length against my flesh, my sex started clenching in anticipation. And then he drove into me. Hard. When he hit my back wall, I gasped. He held still, and locked eyes with me.

  “How does that feel, baby? How does it feel to take me to the hilt?” he asked.

  I moaned, and started circling my hips. He stilled them, and angled my leg up so he could drive even deeper. “This is where I want to be,” he said huskily. “So deep in you. So deep you can barely stand it.”

  I could feel the walls of my sex spasm around him, and I reveled in the feeling of fullness, in the delicious ache that came with him being so deep, stretching me so wide. His face contorted with lust, and a fire flared in his eyes as he started grinding into me. His pace quickened, but he kept driving as deep as he could go, and the sensation made me delirious. I started panting, and wanted to reach out for him, thrashing in my chains.

  “I want to dig my nails into your back when I come,” I said.

  He grunted, slowed down his rhythm and nipped my lip, then grazed my earlobe. “This is for me,” he whispered in my ear. “I get to touch you. You don’t get to touch me.” He picked up the pace again, driving deep, fast, pushing into me hard. His stomach muscles were quivering and flexing, and heat came in waves off his body. His face was strained, and sweat dripped from his hair onto my chest. He kept pounding into me, harder and harder, and I was moaning and crying out beneath him, insane with desire. Finally, I heard him growl from the back of his throat, and then he slammed into me furiously, greedy for my sex to milk him dry. I felt his hot liquid squirt into me, and the sensation, the intimacy, set me off. I quivered beneath him and cried out, just as he collapsed onto me.

  We both lay there silently in limp, satisfied exhaustion. I listened to his heart rate slow, and when it did, he nuzzled my neck, sliding his lips along the flesh. As the sexual fever cooled off, it was replaced by a lazy, voluptuous warmth. After several long moments, Julian pulled back and stroked my hair. “I wish I could keep you chained to the bed for the whole night,” he said, reaching for my wrist, and stroking over the pulse point.

  “I’m your slave, remember? You can keep me here as long as you want.”

  He smiled at me wickedly, then traced my lips with his finger. “I miss this mouth,” he said, brushing my lips with his, then pushing his tongue through me parted lips, leisurely stroking my tongue with his. Without pulling out of me, he reached into his dresser drawer and removed a key. “What are you willing to do to be set free?”

  I flashed him a provocative smile. “Who says I want to be set free?”

  His expression became stern, serious. “Don’t tempt me, Sarah. I’m more than capable of keeping you chained to my bed for the rest of the weekend. But your friend is waiting for us.”

  He turned the key in the lock, and freed my wrists. Suddenly it occurred to me that he had the key ready and waiting in his drawer, and jealousy twisted my gut. Then my guard went up. Julian must have sensed it, because he gave me a worried look. “What is it?” he asked.

  I started to squirm away from him, but he held me still, with his cock still buried deep inside me. “Don’t run from me, Sarah.”

  “Please get out of me,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

  He sighed, and gently pulled out. I shifted across the bed and put my arms over my chest. “Exactly how many women have you handcuffed to your bed?” I asked. I knew I was being unreasonable. Obviously he had dated women before me, but the idea of him playing this scenario out with another woman made me sick to my stomach. I wanted this experience to be mine, and only mine.

  Julian’s eyes became soft, and he reached for my hand. I let him take it. “Sarah, none of that is relevant. Yes, I’ve used handcuffs before. But the sex is always different, depending on the partner. What we have is unique.” He reached for me, and pulled me into his lap. His chest was still warm, and I loved the feel of his arms wrapped around me, and his lips in my hair. “You drive me insane in bed. More so than any woman I’ve ever been with. What I feel for you, the way I touch you, is not generic. I’ve never touched anyone else in the exact same way.”

  I nodded, and pulled him closer. He was right. No sexual experience was ever exactly the same as another. It all depended on the partner. Some partners were forgettable. Their touch was generic, because they didn’t really bother figuring out who you were and what made you tick. But there was no doubt in my mind that Julian’s touch for me was custom made. He designed it to fit my needs, as well as his own. And that, I realized, should be enough for me. It didn’t matter that he had been with tons of other women. What we had together was special.

  I kissed him lightly on the mouth, and ran my fingers through his thick, unruly hair. “You’re amazing,” I said. “I don’t deserve you.”

  Julian’s eyes darkened. “If anything, Sarah, I don’t deserve you. But I’m trying to do right by you. And I’ll do everything in my power to protect you, and make sure you don’t get hurt.” Our eyes locked, and his fierce expression told me he meant every word he said. “Now, let’s get you dressed and in that limo. We don’t want to leave Lisa waiting.”

  Chapter 13

  When the limo pulled up in front of my apartment, I gave Julian a quick kiss, and then jumped out. “See you soon,” he said, filling up his champagne glass with the bottle of Cristal he had chilling.

  Bursting through the apartment door, I found Lisa standing in front of the full length mirror in the hall, checking herself out from all angles. “Holy crap, you look hot,” I said, taking her in. She was wearing a black skin tight dress that came down mid-thigh, leaving bare her toned, shapely legs. She’d matched the dress with black stilettos, and accessorized with silver tear drop earrings and a silver choker with a topaz pendant. She was once again wearing her dark-framed glasses, but her hazel eyes were done up with metallic grey eye shadow, and her lips were stained mauve. “You look like you mean business,” I said.

  She winked at me, and said “The boys won’t know what hit them.”

  I felt my eyes widen. “You got that right,” I said. “Now give me fifteen to get rid of this rats nest on my head, and make myself look respectable.”

  When I emerged from my room twenty minutes later, I was dressed in a slinky purple dress, paired with beige, velvet-strapped stilettos. I’d managed to straighten my hair, and apply some eyeliner and lip gloss. “Do I pass inspection?” I asked.

  Lisa laughed and said, “With flying colors.” Then her look got conspiratorial and she asked “How was the rest of the afternoon?”

  I felt my cheeks flush, and I looked away.

  “You’re getting coy on me? Wow, it must have been earth-shattering. I mean, look at you. You’re still glowing.”

  I shr
ugged my shoulders. “I don’t kiss and tell,” I said, flashing her a sly smile.

  She started cackling. “Since when? I remember getting more than a few details about Rob’s performance in the sack.”

  “That’s because I had some complaints.”

  “And you have no complaints now.”

  “That’s right.”

  Lisa nodded, and her expression became serious. “For what it’s worth, I dig your man. He’s hot, and he seems to get you. Really get you. He’s got an overprotective streak though, so watch out for that. I don’t want him stifling you. But other than that, I think he’s the real deal.”

  I could feel myself beaming. I really valued Lisa’s opinion on men, and people in general for that matter. She had an uncanny ability to nail people’s traits, their personality dynamics, after, I swear, about five minutes of talking with them. Somehow, she could see right through their personas and cut straight to the core. The funny thing is, I felt the same way about Julian. He’d understood something fundamental about me almost from the get-go, and I wasn’t sure how he did it. He was just so amazingly perceptive.

  “Come on,” Lisa said, holding out her arm as a link. “It’s time to paint the town red.”

  We grabbed our purses, and hurried downstairs to meet Julian in the limo.

  ***

  As soon as Julian saw us coming, he slid out of the limo and held the door open for us. He was wearing a purple Hugo Boss dress shirt, paired with black jeans. His hair was still slightly wet from his shower, with a stray lock falling on his forehead. His blue eyes twinkled at us, and I had to fight the urge to press myself up against his chiseled chest. “Ladies, you both look stunning,” he said, but he kept his eyes on me.

  When we got in the limo, I noticed that Lisa’ was already a bit giddy. “Have you been drinking?” I asked.

  She smirked at me and said, “Not enough.”

  Julian immediately pulled two champagne flutes from above the bar and filled them with Cristal. “A toast,” he said, handing us our glasses, and then holding up his.

  “To a wild night in L.A,” she said, clinking our glasses a bit too hard. “A girl could get used to this,” she added, downing her drink.

  I raised an eyebrow at her as she passed the glass back to Julian, looking for a refill. “Take it easy,” I said. Lisa was always a bit of a partier, but tonight she seemed kind of out of control. Almost manic. I’d seen this behavior in her before in a muted form when she was stress out in school. But this was more intense. I started to wonder if she was even more stressed out with work than she was letting on, and now that she’d taken the lid off her bottled anxiety, it was all coming out in a crazy way.

  By the time we arrived at Strut, Lisa had finished another glass of Cristal. When she pranced out of the limo, some guy in line for the club whistled at her, and she shook her booty at him. My eyes literally bulged this time. Julian gave me a curious look. “Is she okay?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  The moment we entered the club, Lisa ditched us and went running for the bar. Angela was working, and gave her air kisses over the bar counter, and a moment later, Lisa had another champagne flute sitting in front of her. By the time Julian and I made it to the bar, some guy had whisked Lisa off to the dance floor.

  “Hey, Ange.”

  She smiled at me. “I hear it’s a champagne night. Coming right up.”

  I reached over the counter and stilled her hand. “Hey, before you left for work, did you notice Lisa drinking?”

  Angela shrugged and said, “Yeah. We had a few drinks. And did a few lines of coke.”

  I felt anger lashing between my shoulder blades. “Seriously, Ange?” I said, my voice full-on pissy.

  She narrowed her eyes at me and said, “Lisa’s a big girl. And so am I. We can handle our shit. So don’t mess, okay?”

  I put my hands up, indicating that I was backing off, but I was still super worried about Lisa. She didn’t look to me like she was having a good time. She looked like she was unraveling. Julian put his arm around my waist, and guided me over to a free stool. “Hey,” he said. “I know you’re worried about her. But we’ll keep an eye on her okay?”

  I nodded, and squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you’re out with us tonight,” I said. He took a sip of his champagne, and his eyes crinkled in a smile, a gesture I was started to know and love.

  “Listen,” he said. “There’s a premiere for a movie coming up. It’s Monday night. I want you to come as my date.”

  All of my insecurities from the past week suddenly bubbled up to the surface. “It’s a work function,” I said, “an industry event. And I don’t want to look like arm candy.”

  “Even if afterwards I lick you senseless?” he teased, but I looked at him like I wasn’t having it, and his expression turned somber. “I thought we were over this,” he said, his tone impatient.

  “We haven’t even properly discussed this,” I said, my voice containing more than a hint of annoyance. “The fact of the matter is, I’m dating my boss’s partner.” I sighed, and took a swig of my champagne. He rubbed his forehead in an exasperated gesture. “Julian, listen,” I said, resting my hand on his arm. “I’m totally falling for you. And I want this to work. But that doesn’t change how this looks. We have to keep public and private separate.”

  I saw anger rise from the back of his eyes. “I’m not going to sneak around with you. You’re my girlfriend. And I’m proud of it. I want to flaunt you. I want the whole world to see how lucky I am.”

  My heart melted at his words, and he must have seen it on my face, because his eyes softened. “I’m absolutely crazy about you, Sarah. And you are my girlfriend. And girlfriends escort their boyfriends to functions. It’s really that simple.”

  My back immediately shot up. “Are you telling me it’s my duty to look pretty on your arm? Because I’m not a trophy girlfriend. And I never will be, do you understand?”

  Julian studied me carefully. “Have I ever treated you as a trophy, Sarah?”

  I thought about it for a moment. “No,” I finally said.

  “And I never will,” he said firmly, his eyes locking with mine. “I value you for who you are. And I’ll never force you into a role you’re not comfortable with. But I really want you to come with me to the premiere.”

  I felt a flicker of deep unease. I still wasn’t comfortable about going to a work function as Julian’s date. I hadn’t earned an invitation on my own merit, and I didn’t think making my first appearance at an industry function as the woman on Julian McGregor’s arm was a good idea. “I’ll think about it,” I finally said. “But you have to understand my position. I might not be arm candy to you, but that’s what I’ll look like to others. And I don’t want to lose face in front of people that I might end up working with.”

  Julian sighed, and said, “It’s just a premiere. You’re reading too much into it.”

  Maybe I was reading too much into it. “You’re probably right,” I said. “I’m probably being oversensitive about the situation.” He took a long sip of his champagne, eyeing me over the glass, waiting for me to come to a decision. “Okay,” I finally said. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Great,” he said, grinning. “Now that that’s settled, let’s hit the dance floor.”

  Julian was a great dancer. He held me close, spun me around the floor, dipped me, and made me laugh. All of his moves were flawless, except for when he was being intentionally goofy, doing the robot, or acting like a gangster. I’d never seen this side of him before, and I loved it. He was always so intense, so serious, and it was charming to see him just let loose.

  But then all of a sudden I looked at his face, and it was serious again, etched with concern. He was looking somewhere behind me on the dance floor and I turned around to follow his gaze. I took a sharp intake of breath when my eyes fell on Lisa, grinding with a guy in an orange velour suit. He had her pushed up against the wall, and was devouring her neck, freely feel
ing her up. I turned back to Julian, and felt the color drain from my face. “That’s not good,” I said. “She’s got a boyfriend.”

  I rushed over to Lisa, and yanked her by the arm. “Let’s go,” I said firmly. “Party’s over. We’re going home.”

  Orange velour guy smirked at me, and said “What’s the rush, sweetheart? We were just getting this party started.” Then he salaciously ran his eyes all over me and said, “What’s wrong, do you feel left out? You’re welcome to join in,” he added, winking at me.

  I scrunched my nose at him and said, “Gross.”

  He shrugged his shoulders, and pushed Lisa back up against the wall, then slid a hand up the bottom of her dress. Before I knew what was happening, Julian had the sleazebag by the neck, and yanked him off Lisa. Then he pushed him back up against the wall, hard. “Hey, what the fuck, dude. Let go of me.”