"Calling me names? Are you sure that's wise, young lady? When my hand's so very close to your bottom?"
He smoothed his palm over the tight-stretched material of her shorts, feeling her quiver.
"You wouldn't," she breathed, but excited anticipation was clearly identifiable in her tone.
"Wouldn't I?" He tapped his hand on the curve of her bum. "Are you sure about that?"
"No," she admitted with a giggle.
"I'd say wearing these is pretty much asking for it, wouldn't you?" He spanked her bottom half a dozen times in quick succession. The strokes were light, but she squealed and yelped all the same.
"Somebody might have seen that," he teased. "Somebody might have seen your face and the way I moved and worked out that you were getting your arse spanked like the bad girl that you are."
"I'm not bad," she protested, and he smacked her again, harder this time.
"No? Running away from me? Taking my car? Speeding in it?"
"I'm sorry," she said, but she was laughing, twisting away from his merciless palm. "Ouch! Stop it!"
He held his fire after that, but kept a firm grip on her waist.
"OK," he said. "You've learned your lesson, have you?"
"Yes, I promise," she said. "I won't run away from you again."
"Good." He bent and kissed her neck. The skin was so soft, just where it curved into her shoulder, that he wanted to suck at it. He wanted to be seen doing it, so that everyone would know that this gorgeous woman was his. But nobody looked his way and he had to imagine it instead.
"Rhys," she said, but it was a whisper, devoid of will, almost inviting him to carry on.
He moved his mouth to her ear and kissed every little whorl of it.
"I'm going to take your shorts down," he said.
"You can't do that."
"Want to bet?"
"You can't…oh, you can!"
He had unbuttoned them and pulled them quickly over her bare bum, until they fell to her ankles. Now he could feel the warmth of her recently-spanked cheeks and he made the most of it, stroking and squeezing them while his kisses moved towards her lips.
"Come on, showgirl," he murmured, "let's give them a show."
She turned her face willingly towards his and let him latch on to her mouth, snogging ravenously in the window in full view of whomever cared to see them.
Rhys let one hand creep around her hip and down over her mons. When he parted her lower lips with determined fingers she whimpered into his mouth, but he didn't release her. He explored her pussy by touch, recognising each delicate fold, alighting easily on her clit, which was swollen enough to make it perfectly clear that Kim was as turned on by all this as he was.
And he really was. His cock had risen to its fullest extent and now chafed against the tight-fitting leather trousers, pleading to be set free. The thought of having her here, in the window, while the crowd looked on, made his pulse race fit to burst. His blood surged through his body, rushing to his cock. Was it impossible? Could he?
Kim was moaning into his mouth now, swivelling her hips to press her clit against his fingertips. Saucy little minx, she wanted it every bit as much as he did and, by God, she could get it.
His other hand delved between her bum cheeks, forcing them apart. When he rested his forefinger against the shallow ring low down in the furrow, she kicked his shin, making him gasp and break the kiss.
"Not here," she muttered. "On the bed."
Just as she spoke, there was a ripple in the crowd and several faces turned up towards their window. Fingers pointed, voices shouted and there was a general movement in their direction. A couple of flashbulbs popped.
Rhys pulled the curtains sharply and yanked Kim away from the window. She stumbled, tripping on the shorts that hobbled her ankles, and fell on top of him, full-length on the bed.
"Think they got a good picture of you?" he said, grabbing hold of her bottom and squeezing. "Think you'll be on the front page of all the papers tomorrow, getting fingered by me?"
"They won't see that bit," she said, but her face was scarlet.
"Yeah, but we'll know. And perhaps they'll guess."
He rolled her over on to her back and swooped in for a long and ravishing kiss, his hand returning to its position between her thighs.
"I wish I'd got a little bit further down the road," he whispered, breaking off, pushing two fingers up inside her. "Wish they'd got a picture of you bent over the sill while I fucked you from behind. That would have made the worldwide press, I bet."
"You're a dirty, dirty boy."
"You love it."
"I can't lie." And even if she did, Rhys thought, her pussy couldn't. It was flooded with her juices, pouring over his fingers like bad girl honey.
She wrapped a leg around his waist and rubbed herself against him, opening herself wider for his roving hands.
"Do what you were doing before," she whispered into his ear.
He propped himself on an elbow, looking down at her face. He wanted to see her face when she asked for this. Christ, he was going to have to undo his leathers or his cock was going to wear a hole in them.
"What was that then?" he asked, perfectly polite.
"You know what."
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, you sod." She reached up and pretended to slap his face. "You do. With your finger. Behind."
"With my finger?"
"Or…you know." She looked away, blushing fit to glow.
"Have you done it before?"
"No," she admitted. "But with you…I kind of like the idea. I want to do something he never did. I suppose it's like my gift to you. And to myself."
She looked so serious and so vulnerable, as if he could destroy her by saying the wrong thing, that he didn't know how to respond at first.
He kissed her deeply and held her face in the palm of his hand while he looked down at her.
"You're amazing," he said. "Really and truly bloody amazing. And I wish I'd met you before…" He broke off, strangely close to tears.
She grabbed his hand and squeezed his fingers.
"I know, babe," she said. "So do I."
They held each other for a while, desperate shipwreck survivors washed up on a desert island together while the sea raged all around them. Here, in each other's arms, they were sheltered.
Eventually, Rhys broke apart, kissed her again and sat up on the bed.
"Right then," he said. "You'd better turn over on to your front. And I've got to get these bloody leathers off."
It wasn't until the leathers were in a heap on the floor, the condoms retrieved from the pocket, that Rhys realised he was missing a rather vital ingredient. He didn't have any lubricant. On the other hand, Kim seemed to be providing quite a lot of the natural variety. Perhaps it was still worth a try…if not, he could always stop and save it for another day. Another rainy day. He thought back to the day he found her, asleep in the hay, and was almost knocked over by a wave of tenderness.
"OK," he said, letting his fingertips walk down her spine, kissing each knob in their wake. "This might not be for you. But we can try."
"I want it," she insisted, angling her hips so that her bottom was pushed upwards. His throat went dry and he looked down at his cock, which stared back up at him as if daring him to change his mind.
He slid his fingers back into her pussy, gathering as much of her plentiful juices as possible while she rotated her hips in the most suggestive way imaginable.
Control yourself, he said sternly to himself, almost unbearably tempted to just jump on and start fucking whichever opening was closest.
He transferred his fingers into the dark crease of her bottom and started putting pressure on that tight little pucker. He massaged it gently at first while she shivered and made little mewling noises, spurring him on.
"How's that, love?" he asked softly.
"Weird," she said. "Weird but kind of nice. Weird nice. Oh, keep going."
He us
ed his other hand to gather some more of her juices, adding them to the total. It felt like enough, but was it?
He straddled her thighs, pulled her arse cheeks apart and bent down low. When she felt his breath on that part of her, she jiggled her hips violently and yelped.
"What are you doing?"
Soon enough, from the way his tongue lapped firmly around the tender flesh, she worked out the answer.
"Ohhhhh God," she moaned, barely coherent. "That's it. Fuck."
She was wet and slippery enough now, he decided. If this was no good, he'd just have to postpone the pleasure for another day. But it was coming to her, whether now or later. Before too much time passed, her arse was going to be his.
"Right, try and keep relaxed," he muttered, pulling her up on to all fours with his forearm against her stomach. "Just let it happen. I'll put my finger in first."
She was breathing rapidly, but she didn't try to resist when he eased one finger through the tight little barrier. It popped in rather more easily than he had expected. Clearly her natural lubricant and his tongue made a great combination. He pushed it further, to the knuckle, and wiggled it around inside her. She squirmed and made sweet little noises, but nothing indicating pain. More like exquisite shame. Perhaps he should make her look at him.
"Oh, you should see yourself," he goaded. "Up on all fours with my finger up your bum. I knew you'd love it. You do, don't you?"
"Shut up."
He laughed.
"Flirting with danger again, love? You must love having your arse spanked."
"Oh," she moaned, protesting.
"Don't worry. I want my cock up there too much to waste time painting it red. Oh, it's going to be so tight. Jesus. OK. Let's do this."
He pulled out his finger then re-inserted it with another. This was a little more difficult and Kim sucked in a breath, but she still pushed her bottom on to his fingers, welcoming them in.
He rotated them, scissored them, pushed them in and out for a while until he was sure she was relaxed enough to take more.
"OK, love," he whispered. "I'm going to be very careful now. Try and stay relaxed for me, hmm?"
She nodded, but her nervousness was evident in the slight quiver of her shoulders. He stroked her hip, shuffling up behind her until the tip of his cock brushed the inward curves of her bottom cheeks, then slipped between them. With his free hand, he pulled them apart, opening up his target.
Yes, she was tight but the slippery surrounds aided his first foray into that little pucker. She wriggled beneath him and he held her hip still, then patted it, distractingly reminded of sheep trying to leap from his arms at shearing time.
"All right?" he asked.
"Bit scared," she admitted. "But it's exciting. Carry on."
The feeling of pushing through that tiny ring was almost too much. He paused, one inch in, and held himself still, mouth wide open, eyes shut, savouring the experience.
"Surely it's too big," whimpered Kim underneath him.
"No, no, it'll go, don't worry."
He prepared to take another slow forward push, every nerve in his body previewing the intense pleasure to come.
There was a thunderous banging at the door.
"Kizzee!"
"Fuck!"
Both Rhys and Kim spoke the oath together. Kim yanked herself forward and scrambled up the bed. Rhys, left with a homeless erection, leapt off the bed and went to stand by the door.
"It's Jonathan," hissed Kim, unnecessarily. Who else could it be? "Don't answer him. He'll have you killed."
"Calm down," said Rhys. "Of course he won't." He raised his voice. "You've got the wrong room, mate. There's no-one called Kizzee in here."
"Kim, Kizzee, whatever. And who the fuck are you, if I may ask?"
"I don't think we've been introduced, and I'd like to keep it that way. Now, if you wouldn't mind fucking off and leaving us in peace, we were just in the middle of something."
"She's in breach of contract. You let me in now or I sue her to kingdom come. She'll never work again."
"Look, I'll let you in…"
Kim wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head frantically.
"…if you bring those police officers in the car park with you. I want everything we have to say witnessed."
"Look, I don't know who the fuck you are but ―"
"You don't need to know. Bring the coppers with you or get lost."
The sigh was audible through the inch-thick door.
"Right. I'll be five minutes tops. Don't even think about going anywhere."
"Not easy to leave a building that's surrounded by shrieking fans – I expect you'd know that."
"Right."
Webb seemed to walk back along the corridor.
"Well, love," said Rhys, looking down with some dismay at his indomitable erection. "I suppose we'd better get dressed."
"Rhys," she said. She was milky pale, biting on a knuckle.
"It'll be all right. He can't take you anywhere against your will. He can make any threats he likes, but they'll all be witnessed by those cops."
"This time," muttered Kim.
"What else can we do? He's not going anywhere until we've talked."
"I know."
Rhys picked up her shorts from the floor and handed them to her.
"Just tell him how you feel," he said.
She stood up, ran into the bathroom, ran out again, clearly too flustered to act.
"Keep still," he said, putting out a hand and stopping her in mid-flap. He drew her to him by her elbow, took the shorts back and held them open by the waistband. "You need a bit of help, don't you?"
He dressed her – an unusual inversion of the usual practice – until she was decently attired, then he tried to stop her shaking by crushing her into his chest.
"This time tomorrow we'll be back at the farm," he said. "We'll shear the sheep. We'll have a bottle of wine. Then I'll take you to bed and fuck you until you can't see straight. How does that sound?"
"Too good to be true."
"It isn't. He can get three dozen more Kizzees just by clicking his fingers and he's a good enough businessman to know that it doesn't make sense to cling on to you if your heart's not in it."
"Oh, thanks," she said, pretending offence.
"Not that you don't have a unique talent, love," said Rhys hurriedly. "But you aren't the only one. If that makes sense. Probably not."
"Stop digging," she said, looking up at him with a reluctant smile.
He only had time to kiss the tip of her nose before the door fell victim to more hammering.
He pulled on his leathers in a tearing hurry and went to the door, opening it a fraction to make sure the required police presence was in evidence. It was, the uniforms looming behind the narrow, expensively-covered shoulders of Jonathan Webb.
"OK," he said, acutely conscious of his bulging crotch, but defiant about it all the same – he wanted Webb to know exactly how lost to him Kim was. "Come on in."
Five people entered the room – Webb, two huge minders and the policemen. Kim shrank back into a corner and stayed there while everyone else stood in the centre of the room, nobody quite sure whether or where to sit.
Webb hadn't even looked at Kim yet, too busy glaring at Rhys with undisguised hostility. Only when Rhys looked over at her did he follow suit.
"Kizz," he said, holding out a hand. "Come on now. This is silly."
She shook her head.
"It's over," she said. "I don't want to be Kizzee any more. I don't want to come back."
"But…" Jonathan took a moment to look around the room and make sure everyone had seen his 'what's her problem?' grimace. "Why not? Sweetheart, you have everything you ever dreamed of. I made your dreams come true. And now you want to ditch me? Are you sure you don't need to see a doctor? You're depressed, Kizz. Perhaps you just need a bit of time in a good clinic."
"There's nothing wrong with her," growled Rhys, but Kim spoke over the top.
"I can speak for myself. And I'm fine. Never better. Because I'm out of that circus and away from you, Jon."
"You aren't yourself," he insisted.
"No," she shouted. "You don't know what my self is. It isn't Kizzee. It isn't all sparkles and spangles. I'm over all that." She paused for breath, working hard to command herself. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to have a go at you. I know you're just doing your job, brilliantly and spectacularly, as always. But please, can you do it with someone else now?"
"You're under contract," he said.
"I'm so sorry. I know. But you're a billionaire, Jonathan. You don't need me or my singing voice. Can't we just part amicably and you move on to the next big thing?"
"Who is this?" Jonathan made an irritable stabbing gesture towards Rhys. "And what has he done to you? Brainwashed you, by the sound of it."
"He's my best friend," she said.
Rhys wanted to take hold of her hand, pull her close to him, but felt he should let her say her piece first.
"So you knew him before…?"
She shook her head.
"So you've only just met him?" Webb, incredulous, looked around at the other occupants of the room again.
"Bottom line," Rhys said, clearing his throat and wishing he hadn't used the word bottom, which was much too evocative of recent events. "She doesn’t want to go back to you. You can't make her go back to you. It's illegal – am I right, boys?"
He looked at the police officers, who made gestures and expressions of assent.
"OK," said Webb, after a pause. "Clearly I'm not about to force anyone into anything. That's not what I'm about. I've got hundreds of eager and talented young people who'd give their limbs for me to take them under my wing – why would I waste time on a lightweight?"
Kim nodded. "Exactly," she said.
Webb seemed displeased that his words hadn't wounded.
"And to be honest, sweetheart," he said, his face ugly with malice, "you aren't all that. Pretty face, nice voice, but it's all expendable. It never lasts more than a season, and your time was coming to an end. You were a mayfly, not cut out for the long term."
Kim kept her chin up and nodded, but it was clear that the words had hit their mark.
"Best off without me, then," she said, just above a whisper.
Webb shook his head. "Stupid bitch," he said, then he clicked his fingers. "Come on, guys. We've wasted enough time in this hole. Let's leave her to her sheepshagging meathead."
Ask No Questions Page 9
