Dirty Deeds

by Lauren Landish

  Jake growls as his hips meet my ass, and I gasp as he smacks my ass again. Without giving me any chance to adjust, he pulls back and thrusts again. His hips slam into me, and I’m left breathless as he starts fucking me harder, his throbbing cock plunging in and out of me as he takes me. There’s no pause, no mercy in his body as he fucks me with everything he’s got.

  I’m overloaded, my brain exploding in pleasure as Jake sends jolts up my body. I can’t make any noise. I’m left a raw, sex-crazed animal as he hammers my pussy, my body shaking with every intense, long stroke of his cock in and out of me. I’ve never experienced something like this before, and I love it. I thought last time was good, but this . . . oh, fuck, I can’t live without this anymore.

  Jake grunts, grabbing my hair and pulling me back into him as he speeds up. “Now you know you’re mine, Roxy. I’m gonna have you every fucking night if I want, and you’re going to give it to me, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” I moan, my eyes losing focus. All I can feel is the pounding of my heart in my chest and the pounding of Jake’s cock in my body. Everything else disappears, and I’m left in a world of pleasure. I squeeze his cock with everything I have, clawing at the bed to try and give him what he’s giving me, but it’s useless. I can’t resist. His powerful muscles drive his perfect cock so deeply into me that I can feel him reach places I’ve never thought possible.

  Jake pulls me up, kissing and biting my neck as his hips pound me harder and harder, his hands reaching around to squeeze my breasts, pinching my nipples. My mind goes, and I can’t feel anything except the white hot pleasure of what he’s giving me. I’m not even sure I’m breathing. All I can feel is what he’s doing to my body.

  Time loses all meaning. I’m left shaking and unable to do anything as I feel his cock drive into me deeply, again and again. I can feel him swell, his cock is throbbing hot and deep inside me, and suddenly, he’s coming, driving me insane with primal fulfillment and pounding the last sparks of consciousness out of me. I’m coming too, so hard that black stars bloom in front of my eyes as our bodies, slick with sweat, hot with passion, come together, and I know that I can’t be without him.

  I don’t know if I passed out or not. All I know is that the next thing I’m aware of, we’re in bed, Jake spooned behind me, his cock still inside me but softening. His arms are wrapped around me, and I unconsciously reach up to stroke his forearm.

  “That was intense,” he says.

  “It was perfect,” I reply, sighing happily. I snuggle against him, and as he pulls me close, I realize something. It’s not just the sex I need . . . I’m starting to need him too. I’m starting to care about Jake.

  A lot.

  I blink, waking up. Jake’s still asleep, and I turn over, just watching him. At some point, we’ve stripped naked, and I take a moment to admire him in the soft light in the room. He’s got long, almost sensitive lashes. I know women who’d kill to have lashes like Jake’s. But his face is powerful, with a strong jawline and chin that leave me with no impression of him being weak. I reach out, tracing the thick swell of his chest muscles, down to the chiseled ridges of his abs.

  He’s a moving, breathing, speaking human sculpture, a Michelangelo in the flesh. Best of all, I realize he’s done so much for me. Tonight, I felt more alive than I have in years. The club, the crowd, it was like I woke up from a long nightmare and found out that I’m not from Kansas. I’m from Oz itself.

  And then, afterward, the way he took me. We’ve had sex twice, and each time, my body’s been left shaking with the intensity of how hard I’ve come. But both times have been different. The first time was mutual, almost tender in some ways. Tonight, he was powerful, conquering, taking me and making me his woman, and I loved it just as much.

  But he’s done all of this . . . for me. No wonder I’m getting feelings for him. He’s done all of this for me simply because he believes in me. For the first time in my life, someone is reaching out, doing something for me out of a genuine desire to see me happy. He’s called me his angel, but I feel like he’s my guardian angel, descending from the heavens to pluck me out of a life I wasn’t supposed to lead. He’s reminded me of what I am, what I’m meant to be. He reached out and touched me, and in that touch, he’s laid a finger on my heart as well. Scared? Sure, I’m scared. But I’m more scared of not having him.

  As I watch him, I hear the song in my head again, the same song I’ve been working on, and in a moment that shakes me to the bone, it all clicks. All the lyrics, all of them in order, the tone that I’ll use, even the notes. I think if I wanted, I could even tell you what each instrument will play, and who I want to play them.

  I roll out of bed and see a pen and tablet of paper on the small bedside table. I start writing, my hand flying across the paper as I feel sweat dot my forehead again. I’m gripping the pen so hard my fingers ache, but it’s as intense a pleasure as when Jake was inside me.

  “What are you doing?” Jake says softly behind me. He’s woken up. I turn, blinking. God, he’s so handsome. “You’re scribbling like a madwoman.”

  “Maybe. I’m writing down how awesome you are,” I reply. I don’t want to tell him the song is about him. Yet. I don’t know if I should reveal how much he’s touched me.

  “Really?” Jake asks, smiling. “Can I read it?”

  I look down at the papers, and I see I’m missing just the final line. Still . . . “It’s not ready yet. But I promise it will be good.”

  Jake sits up, grinning. “Oh, come on. Let me see.”

  I toss the pad aside, reaching out and grabbing Jake’s hard cock. I can’t believe he’s so hard again already. I can feel it pulsing in my hands. Jake stops, moaning as I start stroking him, and I tug him to the edge of the bed as I get on my knees. Looking at his cock, I know I want to taste it. I want to give back to him since he’s given to me.

  “You’ll see it when it’s ready,” I tease him. “Now, lean back and let your Angel see if she can get a treat out of this big cock.”

  Jake

  The last two weeks have proven to be a titanic struggle. My feelings for Roxy have only grown, but our relationship has been more or less confined to the club. We see each other at work, but we try to be on our best behavior. We talked about it, and we’re clear on things. It’s better if no one knows. She’s even tried dressing a little more . . . well, I’d say modestly, but it’s just not working. I swear I go home with a case of blue balls every day after work.

  Thankfully, I’ve gotten to relieve them with her a few times after work. But an hour here or there of passion in the back room just isn’t enough. I want more. I want to be able to strut through the city with her on my arm like she’s my real girl. At work, as bad as it may look and sound, and at the club most of all. Rules be damned. The fact that I can’t bugs the shit out of me, and it’s getting harder to keep my desire under wraps.

  Her last two performances for Club Jasmine have exceeded all our expectations, bringing in hungry crowds every weekend to hear the hot new voice everyone is talking about. It’s to the point where I feel like we should be cutting her a bigger check for the amount of business she brings in.

  My obsession hasn’t taken long to start affecting my work and personal relationships, too. Some of my reports to corporate have been flawed because I’ve been devoting a lot of time to the club and helping get Roxy’s name out there. I know Elena’s probably feeling like I’ve lost trust in her. Even Sophie has begun to wonder what’s up.

  I’ve made a pact with myself to do better and get control over my desire, but every time I see Roxy, I can’t stop the emotions. It wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t have to hide it. I love seeing her happy, seeing that spark in her eyes just after she gets off stage and taking her to the back and drowning in her. It’s like I’m addicted to her smile. And being with her pulls me deeper into the addiction. I find myself . . .

  “Sir, your friend Nathan is on line two,” Elena tells me, snapping me back to the fact that I’m at work. It
’s Thursday, nearly one week from Roxy’s last show-stopping performance. Already, I’m counting down the minutes until I can see her again. She said that she had some new songs she wanted to introduce to keep things fresh. If they’re half as sexy as most of her performances, I’m going to need to do that ice bucket challenge thing to keep myself under control.

  “Thank you,” I say. “And can you get me the . . . uh, the report on the . . . oh, damn it.”

  Elena stops, giving me a raised eyebrow. “Sir, are you okay? You seem really . . . off lately.”

  “I’m fine,” I reply, knowing I sound like a lying asshole. “Just busy strategizing for next quarter.”

  She knows it’s bullshit. “Well sir, sometimes a little break can help. But if you’d like, I have the quarterly projections from each of the divisions ready. Shall I get them ready for you?”

  I sigh, nodding. “Thank you for that, Elena. I’d appreciate it.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I white knuckle the desk when she’s gone, cursing myself for being a fool. She hasn’t said anything, but I can tell it’s obvious to Elena that something is going on between me and Roxy. Roxy’s been by my office too often. I thought we’d done a good job of being professional since that elevator incident, but it’s definitely getting harder to keep my hands to myself when I see her. So far, only Elena seems to suspect something, or at least she’s the only one I know of.

  The flashing of my desk phone pulls me out of my thoughts. Shit! Nathan! “Yeah, Nathan.”

  “Yo!” Nathan says, his voice filled with excitement.

  “What’s up? You know I prefer not to talk at work.”

  Nathan guffaws. “Dude, you’re not gonna believe this shit.”

  “Spit it out,” I hiss irritably, wanting him to hurry up and get to the point. He might not take it seriously, but dammit, calling on my work line during work hours for something club related isn’t cool!

  “A music exec’s assistant called me. He wants to come to Roxy’s next show.”

  “The exec himself?” I ask, sitting forward. “Holy shit.”

  “No, the assistant. He’s more like a talent scout. He wants to see the show first, and if he likes it, he’ll pass on the word. Shit, man, this is motherfucking big time!”

  My heart thumps in my chest at the good news. It’s something that Roxy had given up on, and she hasn’t seemed like she thinks it’s a possibility anymore, even with performing at Club Jasmine. This news would excite her in ways she hasn’t been in a long time. “Roxy will love to hear this,” I say, glancing out the office window. I can’t see her in her cubicle. She must be out doing something.

  “Ya think? Dude, she’s bringing in so much business. Listen,” Nathan says, his voice dropping, “When you told me about karaoke night, I was like ‘eh, it won’t hurt, and it’ll let my boy get his rocks off.’ Then when I saw her, I had ideas, but I never thought this would happen. If this continues to go well, we’re gonna have to start giving her more money, because she sure as fuck deserves it.”

  “She does,” I confirm. “Okay, I’ll pass it along to Roxy, but I’ve got to handle some business here. So I’ll skip the club tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Sure, man. Actually, I’ll see you at the show. I’ve got some business of my own tomorrow. Bye.”

  I hang up the phone. Other than the good news, Nathan didn’t say anything that I wasn’t already thinking to myself. I’ve been thinking about this the past week and started working on a surprise that should be finished any moment now. I’ll start by giving her the respect and station that she deserves. Something to show she’s important.

  I guess I’ve now got a double surprise. A smile forms on my lips as I check my tie and leave my office, going out to the floor. I check Roxy’s cubicle, but she’s not at her desk again, so I go looking for Hannah. She always knows where Roxy is.

  “Hello, Mr. Stone,” Hannah greets me politely. In all the times I’ve talked with her in the past two weeks, she hasn’t said anything. Roxy tells me that Hannah doesn’t suspect the sexual side of our relationship and she’s told her we’re being professional, though I’m not sure if she’s just saying that to calm my worries. I mean, I did lay a kiss on Roxy right in front of Hannah. She even joked about it.

  Before I can ask where Roxy is, she smirks. “She’s down in the supply room getting something for—” She doesn’t get to finish her words, as a familiar and now thoroughly unwanted face walks over.

  “Matt.”

  “Yessir,” he says behind me in his slight Southern drawl.

  “New policy. Get your own shit from the mail and supply rooms. Your co-workers have their own jobs to do. Thanks.”

  He sputters, and I walk off, giving Hannah a little wink as I do. I walk down the stairs to the supply room, where I find Roxy struggling with an armload of junk that makes me wonder what is going on in Matt’s head. “Hey.”

  She jumps in surprise. She was so focused on trying to find what’s on her list. “Mr. Stone, what—”

  I reach out, taking the object from her hand, a red Swingline stapler, and put it back on the shelf. “Shh, you don’t need to be doing this,” I tell her. “He can get his own shit.”

  A smile hits her face. “If you insist. Definitely not going to argue against that.”

  I close the door, smiling. “I do.”

  I approach her, her perfume filling my nostrils and making my head spin in that oh, so familiar and needed way. It’s been at least two days since I got in this close, and I can’t help myself. She arches her neck as I inhale deeply. “Actually, I have a surprise for you.”

  “Please tell me it’s as big as the one in your pants,” she says huskily. “I . . . oh, God, we’re not supposed to do this at the office.”

  “Not quite that big. But I still think you’ll be impressed by its size.” I take her hand and place it on my crotch, lowering my lips to kiss her. She melts into my touch, and I’m so tempted to take her here and now. But I can’t. She squeezes my cock through my pants before I step away, both of us breathing heavily. “So, are you impressed?”

  “Your ego is showing,” she says, giving me some of that sauciness that I adore. “Careful it doesn’t get bigger.”

  “You love it,” I tease. “And you need it.”

  “I do,” Roxy murmurs before stomping her feet like a frustrated child. “Fuck, just tell me already!”

  A grin curls the corner of my lips. “After work. I’ll take you out for dinner first. Think about it—we haven't had anything other than the club and the office.”

  “Are you sure?” Roxy asks, and I nod. It’s been on my mind for a week. I want to take her out and treat her like a lady. “I mean, we probably shouldn’t fuel any suspicions.”

  “Leave that to me. Be ready by eight, and wear something a princess might wear. I’ll be by to pick you up.”

  She seems to melt at the promise of being wined and dined. “All right. But it had better be good.”

  I smile, taking her hand and kissing it. “I promise, it will be.”

  I pull up outside Roxy’s place right at eight o’clock. While I thought about hiring a driver for the night, I decided to give tonight a personal touch and drove myself instead. I’m glad, because as Roxy walks out, I’m stunned. She’s in a sparkling black gown, silver threaded through the fabric to create almost a waterfall effect. Her hair is sleek, her skin so enticing as she approaches me. She’s so beautiful that I can barely think, and I get out almost a beat late, coming around to the passenger side of my car and opening the door.

  “You are truly a vision of beauty tonight,” I greet her, taking her satin gloved hand and helping her in. “You look like you’re ready for the red carpet.”

  “You said dress like a princess, and when I dress up, I go all out,” Roxy says. “So thank you.”

  I go around to my side and get in, still so drawn by her looks that she has to clear her throat and give me a raised eyebrow. “I hope you didn’t
mean just getting dressed up to sit in the parking lot and make out. I don’t do back seats. Well, not anymore anyway.”

  Her joke breaks my paralysis and sends blood to my cock, and I grin. The back seat—that sounds fun. But I turn my attention back to the road. “You’ll see.”

  The drive takes a while. When I told her not to worry, I made sure of it. She’s giving me a look when we pull up and I hand my keys to the valet. “What’s this place?”

  “An exclusive, private members-only restaurant,” I tell her, leading her through the plain, unmarked door. “We’re totally safe here.”

  The maître d’ checks my ID against the reservation list and seats us. As we make our way through the small, ten-table place, Roxy stops. “Is that . . . no way.”

  I glance over, seeing who she’s talking about. “Kevin? Yeah, he’s a member. Now, one of the rules is that everyone in here is equal, so he’s just a guy.”

  “Okay,” she says uncertainly. We sit down, and she looks around. “Wow. The decor here . . .”

  “Is what gives the place class. This is one of those places where you get what the chef prepares. You just have to trust his judgment. But I checked the menu, and we’re getting surf and turf with matching wines. So enjoy.”

  “Thank you,” Roxy says, sipping her water. “So, Jake—”

  “You can ask me anything you want,” I say, cutting her off. “Come on, I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got a thousand and one questions about me. Now’s the time for them.”

  “Well, okay,” Roxy says, blushing. I understand. We’ve been having sex for weeks, and while I know a lot about her, she’s not heard my story as much as she might like. “Well, you told me about your sister and how she came to live with you, but . . . well, you don’t strike me as a rich boy.”

  “I’m not, if you mean whether I inherited my money,” I tell her. “My mother came from a rich family. But she met and fell in love with my dad, who was a working-class guy. They defied my grandfather to get married in Vegas, and there were a lot of hard feelings for a long time.”