Fahrenheit

by Alex Rosa

  He walks around the leather couch, dragging his hand over the back of it. “Hm. Both. Depends on what I’m craving. Sometimes, it’s a quick fix, which I can find here. Sometimes, I enjoy the cat-and-mouse game.”

  “Am I game?” I ask.

  “You were, and I guess you still are, but it turned into something I didn’t expect. Something new, which I also like.”

  “Are you having fun?” I ask with a little more sass than I should.

  He walks around the couch, putting himself in front of me between the couch and the bed. He’s smirking, and I know I must be funny to him.

  “I am. Are you ready to play more?”

  “I am,” I repeat, licking my lips. The temperature in the room is rising, and I’m hyperaware of the tall, lean, heavenly structure of Nate’s body. It’s like a beacon. I’m curious what lies beneath those clothes. I have more questions, but I can ask them later.

  He doesn’t warn me. He never does. He steps forward, and I step back, the back of my knees bumping into the bed when his lips slam into mine, assaulting my mouth. It’s an impatient kiss. I can tell by the way his body is frantic, and his hands are messy as they slide over my body. His fingers dig into the fabric over my hips.

  He licks over my bottom lip, his eyes commanding mine. “Are you ready?” he asks, as if giving me a final way out.

  “Mm-hm,” squeezes between my lips, and I can’t fathom how I’m here, down the rabbit hole and in Wonderland.

  “This is it, Lauren. This is how it starts.” His hand curves over my hip, rising the material of my dress until he can slide it between my legs, encountering damp lace.

  “Panties?” he questions, and takes my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging as if to scold me. “What did I tell you?”

  I smile, liking his tone more than I should, but maybe it’s because it stirs everything inside me. My blood churns hot, my panties are soaked, and I can’t slow my shallow breaths.

  “You weren’t specific this time.” I lean up and nip his bottom lip back.

  His gold eyes spark when I do, his brow and lip twitching upward.

  “Do you know what I do to you when you don’t follow directions?”

  I shake my head, looking up at him, my eyes round and eager. My heart thumping in anticipation tells me I want to know.

  “Have you ever been spanked?”

  I gasp, my posture straightening. I can’t speak. I shake my head again, swallowing my heart that’s trying to tunnel its way up my throat.

  “Turn around,” he commands. “Game on.”

  Without a second thought, I do as I’m told. He walks behind me, and bends down, placing soft kisses over my bare shoulders and down the center of my back. I close my eyes, savoring each sweet contact.

  “I do really like this dress.”

  I focus on my breathing, exhaling as a way of acknowledgment.

  He bends lower, his hands gripping either side of my thighs, pushing my dress up.

  “Although these panties are quite nice, they have to go.” He nips by bum over the black lace. I jump at the contact. When the humid rush of his breath hits my thighs, I’m near combustion.

  He’s such a tease. His hand smooths over my ass, and I love him touching me. I press my behind into his hand.

  “Needy, Lauren?”

  “Um-hm,” I groan.

  “Let’s get this dress off you.”

  His hands are back on my back. He smooths his palms over the bare skin, back up to my shoulders, then he moves my hair over a shoulder and pushes the lace over the edges of each shoulder. His hands are controlled and diligent as he pushes each side over my arms until the dress slips off, pooling at my feet, leaving me in my black bra, barely-there panties, and high-heels.

  For the first time, I don’t have the guts to look at him. I’m nearly naked in front of a man I’m just getting to know. His hands grip for my hips again, the heat of his palms making contact with my overheated skin. He pulls my ass against him, and I can feel his erection press against me.

  We both release the tiniest moans in unison. My eyes are shut. I can’t fathom that I’m here, in this room, with Nate, and the club is outside this door revealing its sinister inner workings, and here we are, starting Lesson Two.”

  “Bend over, ass out, palms flat on the bed.”

  My eyes fly open. I don’t turn around. I stare at the bed in front of me, excited and terrified, and loving the emotional cocktail that brews inside me. I continue to do as I’m told.

  My hands touch soft cotton when I’m bent over. I allow myself to peek over my left shoulder at Nate.

  He’s looking at my ass until he catches me staring. The corner of his mouth tweaks upward, and his eyes are feral.

  Not telling me to turn around, he peels his blazer off, tossing it onto the couch behind him. He undoes the buttons on his cuffs, and then yanks his shirt from his pants. He lifts his hands over his head, grabbing for the back of his collar, and pulls it over his body.

  I’m back to squeezing my thighs together when I finally get a glimpse of a shirtless Nathan Sanders. He’s nothing but smooth, taut skin. His abs look like they take tireless hours at the gym to keep up with, and the deep V that drops behind the waistband of his jeans are what sexual fantasies are made of.

  This is when fear finds a place alongside the adrenaline. Nate may not know it, but he’s so out of my league.

  Regardless, I’ve never wanted anyone’s hands on me so bad. That alone feels wrong, because I don’t feel worthy. I can wear the lacy underwear as if I know what I’m doing, but if he were to give me control, I’d be a fish out of water.

  However, the want to be what Nate finds attractive fuels that determination that’s brought me this far.

  I swear I’m chewing my lip raw, especially when he reaches for the button on his jeans.

  His fingertips work achingly slow, and I try not to squirm when he pushes them over his tan, statuesque hips. My heavy eyes confirm that he is in fact tan everywhere and I have half a mind to ask him how that’s possible, but that’ll probably be flung into the pile of too personal. I don’t care though, seeing his golden sculpture form, carved from the purest bronze, and his skin so smooth that I’m sure it tastes as divine as it looks is enough of a gift.

  His black boxer briefs leave nothing to the imagination, and I take note of the quick rise and fall of his chest.

  I refuse to remember the times in my previous relationship when my ex-boyfriend demanded the lights off every time we had sex, because standing with my ass sticking out seems to trump Brian’s self-conscious tendencies.

  I’m panting, waiting for Nate, needing him to show me what his world entails, unsure if I want to be part of it, and wanting to know enough to be able to write about it.

  I never say I don’t like something without trying it.

  Nate closes the few feet between us, his hand back on my ass. It curves over it before taking a firm grip of the flesh above my thigh.

  “I like this,” he says gruffly.

  It’s quiet in here. I can only hear my shallow breaths and my heart beating between my ears.

  “But, Lauren, you’ve been a bad girl.”

  I close my eyes, pushing my ass into his palm.

  “Do you know why you’ve been a bad girl?”

  My teeth clamp over my bottom lip as I nod, and release groan.

  “Tell me what you did.”

  My eyes fly open, and as naughty as this feels, I’m not sure how to wrap my lips around naughty words.

  A hand comes down hard on my ass, sending a stinging shockwave to my throbbing clit, and the moan that escapes me doesn’t sound anything like me.

  “Don’t hesitate. Why have you been bad?”

  “Because,” I breathe out, finding my body seeks out more of that harsh touch. My body is awake and electric. “I’m wearing panties.”

  “Do you know what happens when you don’t follow directions?”

  “I get spanked,” I reply, finding my
resolve in remembering that I don’t have to hold back with Nate, because this is why we’re here. It’s liberating.

  “That’s right.”

  I swear I can hear him smiling.

  I feel both of his hands on me now. His fingers curl under the waistband of my underwear and tug them off my body. The delicate fabric skims my legs, and falls to my feet.

  “I like your ass, Lauren, a lot.”

  “Mm,” I groan, waiting for more, my whole body blushing.

  His hand smooths over my bare behind. “I’m going to spank you five times for being a bad, bad girl. I want you to count, do you hear me?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  His hand comes down on my ass in a light slap. “What was that?”

  I grin. “Yes. I will count.”

  “Good.”

  His hand caresses my sensitive skin until it’s gone, and I know what’s coming, my body ready and wanting.

  The same hand comes down hard on my ass, and I moan, but try sucking it back, wondering how my mind is finding the odd sensation of stinging pain arousing.

  “One,” I whisper.

  “I want to hear you. Don’t hold back next time.”

  His hand comes down again, but on the other cheek.

  “Two,” I moan, my brain conflicted with my physical want for more.

  “Louder,” he says as his hand comes down hard on my ass again.

  “Threeeee,” I gasp, pushing back, needing more than his hand to cure this near excruciating want to have him inside me.

  His hand smooths over my stinging skin, whispering, “So, good.”

  Shocking me, the same hand slides between my buttocks, and between my legs, his fingers circling the entrance to my sex. “You’re soaking. Fuck, I want you now. Do you see how much you like this?” He slips two fingers inside me.

  I groan his name. “Nate, more …”

  “Almost done,” he growls, pulling his fingers from me, leaving my body aching for him.

  His hand comes down hard on my ass, shocking my body once again.

  “Fourrrr,” I pant. One more, I keep thinking as my hands claw at the bedding, seeking relief.

  “Are you ready, Lauren?” His tone says it all. This is the game. This is what he’s getting off on. My need for him, the way my ass pinks under his hand, and the way my body reacts.

  He doesn’t wait for an answer, his hand slaps against my skin a final stinging time.

  “Five!” I shout, my body somehow climbing in pleasure and close to the brink. How is that possible?

  I hear the ripping of a condom wrapper, and peer over my shoulder to get a glimpse of Nate naked, rolling the condom over his large cock. His hand slides over the shaft, and I’m mesmerized by its size. He grips the base of his thick length. A different form of sinfully sweet anticipation and curiousness courses through me with the wonder of how he’ll fit inside me.

  He positions himself behind me, and I can feel the tip of his cock lingering between my legs. He leans over my back, kissing my skin, and because of the spanking, I’m sensitive everywhere. His kisses send little bolts of lightning over my skin.

  “Are you okay?” he breaths against me.

  “Yes,” I reply, baffled that he’s checking on me, but smile just the same.

  His lips make it to the base of my spine, and I realize the tension that was once there is nearly gone. This man might have a gift.

  He rises, his hands trailing up my back to unhook my bra. I pull it off my body, tossing it onto the bed, naked now.

  His hands drag down my spine, over my ass and between my legs, stroking me where I desperately want him.

  “So fucking wet,” he pants before pressing the head of his hard cock into me, my body stretching to accommodate his girth.

  He presses inside me, and my hips buck when I’m completely full. He pulls out, and then in, slowly and rhythmically until his pace builds and quickens.

  I moan, trying to hold back, frantically digging my hands into the sheets when all I can hear is his body hitting mine in rhythm with his sharp growls, loving his possessive, hard pulses into my body. His hands grip my waist, pulling me to him, hitting me harder and harder.

  My body begins that carnal climb. “Nate, more … more …”

  He pushes himself in faster and harder, and his small pants rile me up more.

  My body trembles and starts to clench. I can’t stop saying his name. My eyes clench shut as I push back into his body with every thrust. He hits me in that deep, dark, pleasure-building spot inside me.

  Nate leans over, his lip nipping at my shoulder while one of his hands comes around to cup my breast. He pinches my sensitive bud between his fingertips, and whispers in my ear, “Come on, Lauren. Give it to me. You know it’s mine anyway,” as he slams into me. My body can’t take it as it clenches around his cock, and I shout his name into the sheet, my teeth biting into the bedding as I press back into him, letting the orgasm rip through my body, my arousal dripping down my thighs. His groan matches mine as he releases, too. His grip on my body tightens almost painfully.

  I can only see stars and flashing white light, and feel Nate all around me. His body presses over mine, his shallow breaths skim the skin of my back, matching my own. I try to calm the tremors rolling through my lower half while I bask in this blissful sensory overload.

  There isn’t an ounce of tension in my body any longer. I am nothing but one satisfied woman, my eyes struggling to stay open as I attempt to slow my breathing.

  Nate pulls out, collapsing onto the bed next to me. I climb farther onto the mattress, lying down. My heart is working overtime, and so is my brain.

  When my eyes flicker open, I’m rewarded with a profile view of Nate lying on his back. I take pleasure in the rapid rise and fall of his chest as if he’s trying to find the same sense of control over himself.

  This would usually be the moment I’d climb under the covers to conceal my naked body, but I’m not shy around Nate. He’s already seen a part of me that no one else has. He’s right. I have nothing to hide when it comes to him.

  His eyes open, and even I can see the satiated calm behind their normal sparking glow.

  His chin falls to his right. His stare meets mine with an accomplished smile.

  “A+ for Lesson Two, I think.”

  “Well, it’s because I have such a good teacher.”

  He laughs, and I love the sound. This time, I try to hide my smile.

  Here we are again. We both win.

  I get his laughter. He officially owns my orgasm.

  I’m thoroughly enjoying my curiosity, and I’m sure this is his type of adventure.

  Yep, this is our thing … for now.

  “Is your hair down?”

  I leap at the sound of Rebecca Hines’s voice as she enters my office. It’s her unmistakable sultry rasp from chain smoking since she was fourteen that lets me know it’s her before I look up from my computer.

  “Um, yes it is.” I bring my hands to my mouth to chew on my index fingernail, trying to avoid running my hand through my hair.

  I don’t shift my stare from the computer monitor. I should be making some final edits to articles due for the next magazine issue, but the truth is, I’ve been staring at the blank page holder that is planned for my article that will need a read through of its own.

  “It’s different. You look good.”

  The compliment seems to be wrapped in suspicion. She gets my reluctant attention and a tight smile as I watch her suspiciously.

  She strolls into my office in her designer pencil skirt, her hips waving side to side, and her glasses sit so stylishly on her nose that they have this bizarre way of matching her expensive high heels, and I don’t know how she does it. She looks like a woman who would run a women’s magazine. She could really be a walking billboard for it. She is nothing but a make up of our suggested fashion tips, flirtation techniques, and a guess, but probably our sex advice, too.

  I try my best not to roll my eyes.


  She’s pretty much everything I’m not, though that might be a slight exaggeration. My tight, black skinny jeans and fitted floral tank matched with black ballet flats can’t really compete with her. I’m, on a good day, cute and adorable. She’s all woman hear me roar.

  She’s also a friend when it comes down to it. We graduated from the same university, and wrote for the school newspaper at the same time, though she was a couple years ahead of me and managing the paper when I arrived as a doe-eyed hopeful journalism major. I wrote exposés on environmental protests, political elections, and her personal favorite, the teacher/student scandal that rocked the science department.

  She’s the one who gave me the intern spot here at the magazine right out of college. Making her proud, I proved myself and moved up quickly. I owe her a lot, even now. Hell, at least she’s giving me the opportunity to make journalist.

  She’s also a great wing-girl who might’ve introduced me to her tattooed, guitar-wielding friend, Brian Grandon, who I ended up dating for nearly a year. However, I’m not sure I can thank her for that one.

  “I like it,” she chirps, strutting her way to stand on other side of my desk with large, round eyes behind her black rimmed glasses. “So, how’s it going? You’re so perky lately.”

  “Coffee,” I reply, lifting my empty mug and waving it.

  She shakes her head. “Nope. It’s something else. I can sense it.”

  This is when I do roll my eyes. “Please don’t tell me you can see my aura out of your third eye again.”

  “If you must know, your aura is fucking glowing today. Plus, my spiritual guide, Paul, thinks my third eye has a really keen sense.”

  Rebecca, contradicting her chain-smoking habit she attempts to keep secret, has turned her life over to yoga, kale inspired everything, and her spiritual guide she’s currently sleeping with. Her life could be the poster-child for this generations Los Angeles hipster love story.

  “Like your oral skills Paul also compliments you on?”

  She laughs. “See! You’re even funnier than usual.”

  “Correction, I’m always funny. You’re just here for a reason you’re not telling me.”

  “Well.” She bobs her head left and right before adding, “I am here for a real reason, but it doesn’t change the fact that you do look good today, among other things.”