Spy Games: A Billionaire Bad Boy Heist Romance

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Spy Games: A Billionaire Bad Boy Heist Romance Page 69

by Cassandra Dee


  I blushed furiously. It was so inappropriate to be having this conversation in front of a total stranger and yet, Trent wasn’t exactly a stranger either. He was my one-night lover, the man I’d woken to dozen of times during the night, welcoming his dick in me, craving it even, letting him take me wherever, whenever. My body grew hot again just thinking about it and shit, but my pussy moistened again, the slit still sore from his shaft. He’d been so hard, so huge, so dominating, making me come over and over again last night, and yet here I was, in my kitchen, being embarrassed by my own son. Go figure, having kids really is incredible, I would have sold Robbie for five dollars at the moment.

  But Trent smiled lazily at me again, that big form relaxed, leaning against the counter.

  “How’s it going?” he asked. “The dating I mean.”

  I went from slightly pink to beet red then.

  “Good, good,” I said quickly, trying to hide my embarrassment. “Now Robbie, what are your plans for the week? Did you guys have plans, or were you going to relax and hang out?” I said quickly, trying to change the subject.

  My son turned to me, sliding the heaping stack of pancakes on the kitchen counter before turning to grab some maple syrup.

  “Probably just relax,” he said casually. “Trent here’s got some time off from spring training, so we’re going to lie low for a while, catch up around town.”

  And I swung to his friend, eyes suddenly inquisitive. Spring training? For what? Reading my mind, Trent nodded in confirmation.

  “I’m taking some time off from school,” he rumbled lazily. “Working the minor leagues, hoping to be called up to the majors soon.”

  And my eyebrows shot up. No wonder he had such an amazing body, toned, athletic, perfectly symmetrical with strong arms and thick thighs. Because he was a pro athlete. Oh my god, I’d run my hands so many times over that perfect physique last night, savoring the hard muscle, licking that broad chest a few times, nestling into the crook of his arm, gluing myself against the massive bulk. And it was because working out was part of his job, he had the best trainers, the best nutritionists on call, hours of practice each day. No wonder Trent was Adonis come to life, a god of a man. And I watched amazed as he dug into a stack of pancakes covered with syrup, a huge fluffy ball of butter melting on top. Wasn’t that bad? This stuff was unhealthy as all get-out, right, filled with evil sugar and fat. But he read my mind.

  “They work us so hard that I need the calories,” he said, digging in with relish, pushing a huge forkful into his mouth. That one forkful would have been three or four bites for me. “So yeah, even if it’s not super healthy per se, I still need calories and pancakes are a way to get them.”

  But then he paused, looking at me, eyes dancing over my frame.

  “Why don’t you have some too?” he asked. “Here, where are the plates? Let me get you some Ms. Sands,” he said, big body in motion suddenly.

  I was just about to demur when my son spoke up again.

  “Naw my mom doesn’t eat stuff like this, she’s a health nut, always trying to get skinnier. Are you still doing that crazy diet Mom? The one where you drink a ton of lemon juice?”

  I colored once more. I hadn’t been on the South Beach diet in years, but yeah, it’d been painful, drinking liters of lemon water with cayenne pepper in it, not a morsel of food passing my lips. So I shook my head.

  “No, I’ve been off that for years now, and besides South Beach didn’t work for me,” I said with a wry smile. “I put all the weight back on and then some.”

  But Trent was looking at me hard, now, a plate in his big hands, blue eyes glued to my curves.

  “Naw, Ms. Sands,” he said softly, the casualness of his voice belying the intensity of his gaze. “You look great the way you are, no need for diets. In fact,” he said, heaping the plate with pancakes, “take this, eat up.”

  And I blushed because I was curvy all around, in fact, he’d seen up close and personal last night just how round I was, my ass busting out to here, my breasts to there. And if I remembered correctly, he’d loved it all, burying his face between my tits, savoring the fleshiness, popping my nips into his mouth, his hands stroking my ass, between my legs the entire time, making me mewl and scream.

  So I grew hot once more, face flushing, about to refuse the pancakes, but Trent was insistent.

  “Like I said,” he said shortly, eyes hot on me. “Eat up, no one likes to see a woman starve herself.”

  And this conversation was already so crazy, my lover lecturing me in the kitchen the morning after, my son listening in with no idea what was passing between us. Oh god, I prayed Robbie had no idea because my body was on high, electricity arcing between Trent and I, a crackling live wire, bright enough to light up the room, shock anyone who stepped into its path.

  But kids are kids, and my son probably couldn’t even fathom the idea of his mom being with his buddy, someone twenty years younger. He probably thought I dated old fuddy-duddies, dudes with canes and dentures, spotted and aged, deep into their twilight years. So I shrugged a little and let out a small smile.

  “Sure, I’ll have some pancakes,” I said, scooting my big butt onto a seat the counter before digging in. And Trent, blue eyes gleaming, watching approvingly as I took a heaping bite of pancake topped with a healthy dollop of syrup, a smear of butter on the side. He turned back to his own meal, forking a mouthful of crackling bacon into his mouth before swiveling around to face me once more.

  “So Miz Sands,” he rumbled casually. “You been living in Sunnyside long?”

  I smiled cheekily. This was more like it, normal conversation that didn’t light up the air with tension and awareness, even if it was mostly in my brain.

  “Yeah, we bought this house right before Robbie was born,” I said, nodding at my son. “Robbie grew up here, it’s the only home he knows.”

  My boy nodded.

  “Yeah, Sunnyside’s a nice place to grow up,” he said. “Safe, good schools, I had a great time here, riding my bike to school, hanging out at the basketball court, it’s totally safe.”

  And I nodded. I’d tried to do my best by him, enrolling him in Cub Scouts, taking him to music lessons, the works. But somewhere along the way, it hadn’t been enough. Doing right by my little family hadn’t been enough to make my husband stay, Rob had gotten bored of little Sunnyside and taken up with that blonde from one town over. Shit, they’d met at the bowling alley for crying out loud, we really were a tiny hamlet, there were no bars, no clubs, no nothing. Hooking up at the bowling alley, right in front of our friends and neighbors

  But Trent just grinned again.

  “Sounds great,” he rumbled casually. “I find quiet little towns always have a lot of history, they’re full of surprises once you look beneath the surface.”

  And my breath hitched unexpectedly, brown eyes going wide. Was he talking about me, or Sunnyside? Did he think that I, an average-looking middle-aged woman, had a lot to offer behind my plain exterior, that I was exciting and full of surprises underneath? My heart started thumping like a hammer, breath coming fast although I tried to remain calm, look normal.

  But the big man just grinned again, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

  “This has been amazing man,” he rumbled to Robbie. “You got enough to eat? I say we head to the gym.”

  And my son nodded, polishing off the rest of his orange juice.

  “Yeah, home cooking, especially my cooking, always hits the spot,” he grunted. “None of that frozen or freeze-dried shit. Now it’s to the gym to wipe out these calories, I want to see what they do to you in the pros man, tips and tricks for pro athletes.”

  Trent nodded.

  “Sure, but you’ll be crawling after a work-out, it’s not meant for lesser men,” he rumbled smoothly.

  Robbie grew a little pale then, but he straightened his shoulders.

  “I’m up for it,” he drawled, trying to look unperturbed. “I can do it.”

  And with that, the two men gr
abbed their things and headed out the door.

  “Bye Mom,” said my son, stepping out without a glance over his shoulder.

  But Trent lingered a little. He turned to look at me, one foot out the door, eyes hot, promising, sweeping over my curvy form as I sat rock still at the counter. My skin tingled, body flushing hot because he was telling me something even though there were no words.

  “Bye Miz Sands,” he drawled with a wink, shutting the door quietly behind him.

  And with that, the energy left the room and I slumped, breathing a sigh of relief. How in the world had this happened? How in the world had I just survived a breakfast with my lover in the room, our sensual night very much at the front of my mind, the memories of that huge body, his demanding, possessive touch? And now, Trent was a guest in my home for the next week. Oh god, he’d be sleeping under my roof, mere feet away, that big body relaxed, so near and yet so far. Because he was my son’s friend, almost two decades younger, and it was completely wrong, totally taboo. Or was it? Because we’d already breached that barrier unknowingly, fucking hard, deep and good, and it’d been amazing … so amazing that I knew it was going to happen again even if Hell froze over.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Trent

  Holy shit, Marie was Robbie’s mom? What the fuck? Sure, I’d known she was older than me, but I didn’t think by twenty years. Holy fucking shit, the woman looked amazing, absolutely delectable, and fuck yeah, I wanted her again.

  I grunted in the gym, slowly doing a rep, then two, then three, watching my reflection in the mirror like a hawk. Training is important, strength builds resilience and resistance to injuries, so yeah, I work out like a machine, never missing my time at the gym. But still, my brain was electrified, headphones pumping music. Because the delectable woman would be mere feet from me, that curvy body taking showers, shaving herself, eating, sleeping, so near that I got hard just thinking about it. Fuck, I was a fucking mast but thank god I had loose sweatpants on, you couldn’t tell.

  But shit, this was my buddy Robbie’s mom and the fucker had no idea I’d boned his mom last night. Clearly, he thought she was “over the hill,” he had no idea that Marie was one hundred percent Grade A MILF to the max. To him, she was more along the lines of an elderly woman, someone who was warm and kind yes, but still his mom for crying out loud. And definitely not someone his best friend would bang. Except now I’d met Marie. I’d more than met her, I’d fucked her until she screamed, her curvy form shattering on my dick, pink pussy squeezing me, milking me dry, blasting load after load of hot semen into her depths. And oh fuck, but we’d totally gone bareback, I’d totally thrust into her with nothing, my hot fuck totally virile. Fuck, fuck, what was wrong with me? This never happened, as a pro athlete, there are so many groupies everywhere, you never know what shit was flying out there. I’d just forgotten for crying out loud, which hasn’t happened in ages, since I was a fumbling fifteen year old wetting my dick for the first time. So fuck, not only had I banged my friend’s mom, but I’d done it with no protection to add to the fuckery.

  I grunted again, staring at myself in the mirror, doing another rep, biceps trembling as I lifted hard, balancing on my heels. What the fuck was going on? I had no idea, but I knew that I wanted more, more of Marie, more of the woman, enjoying her, savoring that sweet form, feeling that warm, wet cunt wrapped around my dick once more. And if after a week, she wanted out? That was fine, it suited my lifestyle as well, ballplayers are always on the go. But in the meantime, there was still a week of pleasure, a week of hot play, a week of all-out hedonism … and I was gonna make sure Marie loved every moment of it, screaming my name, body shaking again and again as I had my way.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Marie

  I stood in the bathroom looking at the Inseminator on the counter. Oh god, why did this have to be happening now? Why? Because yeah, I wanted a baby and needed to inseminate myself for practice. But why did Trent have to be staying at my house now? It was such a distraction, and I could hardly believe I was going to do this with the alpha male just a couple rooms away, sleeping on my tiny living room couch.

  Because yeah, that’s all we had. I make decent money as a nurse, but my ex took the huge couch with him when he left, leaving us with nothing but a gaping hole for a while. And after a couple months, it looked so pathetic, the imprints on the carpet, the obvious missing item of furniture that Robbie and I went to Goodwill together and picked up a used couch, something to fill the space if nothing else

  But the sofa was nowhere near big enough for Trent’s big frame. Our new/old sofa was probably six feet at most, made a little shorter by the fact that it had overstuffed pillows, all in a homey chintz print. I’d pulled some sheets from the linen closet and put them on the sofa, but the whole scenario was just ludicrous. Trent’s feet would hang off the edge, flopping uncomfortably. But what could I do? Buy a new couch, only to be delivered in three weeks?

  So yeah, life was a little bizarre. My lover was probably asleep right now, snoozing away, knocked out after doing whatever he and Robbie had been up to all day, and that was the problem. He had his life and I had mine. I shook my head, glaring at my reflection in the mirror. Get with it, Marie, I scolded. Last night was an aberration, you have your life, and he has his. So get to work, you have a job to do. Because it was the perfect time for me to practice with the Inseminator, a giant-sized dildo that doubled as an inseminator, and I had to insert it into my pussy to deposit the donor sperm. Because once you were ready, there was a syringe that you’d fill with the good stuff, the semen bubbly and warm, before sheathing the syringe within the dildo. And then at the right moment, you’d depress the plunger and the hot liquid would squirt into your pussy, sensuous and virile, hopefully fertilizing your egg.

  But that was the thing. I needed to practice, even though I didn’t have semen picked out yet. The insemination dildo was fucking huge, and it wasn’t gonna be easy getting it in even after Trent’s huge dick. I had to work myself up, I’d have to stroke myself hard, make myself hot and nasty before slipping it in for this to work. So practice, practice, practice, that was my motto.

  Pulling the dildo out of the packaging, I stared at it again. It was fucking intimidating, a giant penis, skin-colored, soft rubber with an articulated head, bulging veins on the sides. I ran a finger over the tip, feeling the little hole where real semen would come out when the time was right, unconsciously comparing it to Trent’s hole, how slick and slippery it was, how it always seemed to seep goo, the man ready for me, leaking copiously.

  But that was Trent, I reminded myself again. And now you have this dildo that’s more than a sex toy, you’ve got to use it on yourself. So eyes on the prize. You have a job to do.

  But still, my body shivered at the memory of being with Trent, feeling him inside. Because it was so much better with the man, savoring his hard, hot shaft in me was a thousand times more compelling, a thousand times more arousing than the rubbery plastic before me. With Trent, we hadn’t used any lube the entire night, it wasn’t necessary given how wet I was, my cunt gushing and pulsing with lust. But with this? I eyed the dildo warily before grabbing a huge tube of K-Y to make things easier.

  And my resolve firm, I padded over to my bed, making sure the door was shut. Oh yeah, the house was silent, it was two a.m., I’d heard Robbie and Trent come in, those low voices rumbling downstairs before they settled down. And now, there was only darkness, silence, a moment of privacy to myself.

  So slipping my robe off my shoulders, I slid naked onto my bed, dimming the bed stand light a bit, casting my curves into shades of gold. I was soft and fleshy everywhere, my huge girls bouncy, almost sliding off my chest as I lay on my back, slowly spreading my legs. Taking a deep breath, with one hand, I began squeezing my right breast, slowly massaging the flesh, letting my eyes drift shut as I imagined Trent with me. Oh yes. Oh yes, that was it. I remembered the way he’d lapped at my nipple, taking the hard nub between his teeth and shaking his head a bit, like
a dog with a bone, how it’d made me squeal with pleasure, whine with delight.

  And gasping slightly, I pinched a nipple between my fingers, squeezing the hard pink before pulling off with an audible pop. Oh god, not as good as Trent’s mouth, but still good nonetheless. To make it more realistic, slowly, I cupped a boob and lifted it to my mouth, circling my lips around the nipple before lightly licking, lapping at my hard flesh. Hot bolts of electricity shot from my tits straight to my cunt, making me lube up wetly, and I squeezed my thighs together, savoring the tingling sensation before bringing my other boob up and tonguing that one as well, loving the wetness on my flesh, bolts of pleasure making my pussy shiver.

  But breast play wasn’t going to be enough. I needed clit stimulation and slowly, I reached for the inseminator, trailing my hands over the soft contours once more. God, it was so lifelike, but I suppose that was the point. Supposedly if I came during orgasm, then the spasms of my cunt would draw the semen up towards my ovaries, increasing the chances of fertilization. So fuck, I needed to make this work. I needed to come hard because sperm ain’t cheap, the most sought-after donors cost hundreds of dollars per pop, which is a lot given my life circumstances.

  So right. Back to business. With one soft hand, I brought the dildo to my mouth, trailing my tongue around the flared glans, again amazed at how lifelike it felt, soft, rubbery, yet with a steel-like hardness underneath. Slowly, I pushed the penis into my mouth, wetting it, running my tongue up and down that hard shaft as my other hand crept between my thighs, opening my folds and touching the soft nub within.

  Ahhhh! That was it. My eyes drifted shut as I pretended I was with Trent again, his hard, hot dick I was sucking, his big hands so knowledgeable, so expert on my softness. Slowly, I circled my clit, teasing it out of its hood, stroking the bottom just like he’d done last night. And my pussy welled again, a bit of cream spilling from the base of my slit, moistening my thighs. Oh god, that was good stuff, and I reached one hand down, cupping the wetness before bringing it back up and smearing it all over the dildo, lubing it with my own female nectar. I was almost there, almost ready to begin penetration.

 

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