“Um, because it wasn’t going to change anything.”
“Do you still want him?”
Vomit! “No!”
“Then I see no reason why you and I cannot be friends.”
There it is again. Friends.
Being friends with him sounds less friendly and more scary. More like all-around terrifying, but possibly super-hot.
“And if I disagree?” Like I’m going to. You should! Go away, conscience.
“Then we have a problem. Because I thought I could have you once and walk away, but I was wrong. I’m not your fairy tale, Kasey, but I’ll damn well bring you pleasure until you can’t take it anymore.”
He steps forward, his hand raising to brush his thumb over my bottom lip. “I know you want me. I can tell by the way your eyes are dilating. You’re turned on just thinking about what I want to do to you. Admit it.” His chest presses against my soaked shirt, touching my now hardened nipples. I then remember that my boobs are still in full view. My instincts are to cover myself, but his statement has me frozen in place. “Are you trying to fight the inevitable?”
Well yeah, kind of.
I don’t particularly want to admit how right he is. Because I am super turned on right now. And with a few glasses of wine swirling in my belly, having a repeat of our hotel romp sounds like a grand idea. Minus the whole, this-is-sooo-wrong-flag waving in front of me and bonking me in the head. But God, to have him again…
“Are you thinking about me putting my cock right here for you to taste?” he teases, pressing his thumb down onto my lower lip, pulling my mouth open. My cheeks immediately flush. I don’t know whether to be embarrassed or ashamed that the thought of him inside my mouth again excites me. He slides his thumb slowly into my mouth daring me to close my lips around him and suck. I’m tempted. So damn tempted.
“You gonna lie to me again and tell me how innocent you are?” His thumb begins slowly working its way in and out of my mouth and my eyelids threaten to close.
“This isn’t me. I’m not this—”
“Hungry? You think I can’t smell your sweet cunt already begging? You were never innocent, Kitten. You were just never given the proper training to be bad.” He then thrusts his thumb deep into my mouth, and this time I close my lips around him. I suck on his finger, imagining it’s him inside my mouth. I hear his soft moan of approval, before taking my free hands and sliding them up his chest.
I may not be the bad girl he’s trying to pin me to be, but there’s a part he’s awoken that makes me admit I may not be as innocent as I thought. That, or it’s the wine, and I can wake up and be ashamed at my actions tomorrow.
My hands stop at his solid pecs, and I press my fingers deep into his skin. My eyes find his, which are dark and wild. If I knew better, I would stop whatever it is we’re starting here right now. But the alcohol twirling inside my belly is altering my common sense and my newfound sexual appetite for danger has me clamping my lips down harder and sucking his finger deeper into my mouth.
I begin grazing my nails back down his chest to his pants, hoping to God I’m doing it right. When I get to his pants, my inexperience causes me to fumble with his zipper. Why can’t it be as easy as it looks in the movies? Simple swoosh and down goes the drawers. Maybe this is why Steven never bothered with seduction with me. He already pegged me as a low-grade failure at it. Finally, I snatch the clip and tug it down.
His finger is quickly out of my mouth, his hand cupping the back of my neck when I speak. “When we brag to Steven, make sure to tell him I was much smoother at this than I really am.” I start to chuckle when Creed stiffens. His fingers tighten around my neck, his free hand halting my hands from going any further. Two seconds later, he’s pushing off me. “What? Sorry, it’s just a zipp—”
“Is that what this is for you? More revenge? Add more to the juicy story to tell my brother?”
What? Where’s that coming from? “No, I was just making a joke.” Creed looks furious all of a sudden. “What did I say? I was joking; I wasn’t planning on telling Steven anything.” The second I say his brother’s name, his eyes light up with fury. I watch him push his hands through his hair, a secret battle going inside his head.
“Creed…” I try and reach out, but he turns and walks out of my apartment.
I storm out, fighting not to slam my fist into the corridor wall. What the fuck am I doing?
“Fuck!” I growl, viciously grabbing at my scalp. I need to put a stop to this madness. She was a revenge fuck. That’s it. I should have been done with her that night, like I told myself I would be. But being here is far from the original plan. What am I doing? What have I been doing? I wasn’t supposed to get wrapped up in her. She was just bait for me.
But then she goes and admits she hasn’t even told Steven about us. Which could make the plan voidable. Make her tell him. I throw my head back, pulling harder at my scalp. She was supposed to use our night to ruin him. Anger him to no end. But she didn’t. If she doesn’t tell, then you can continue this game with her. Is it a game though? Or have I gotten myself into a fucking mess I’m refusing to get out of?
I drop my hands, allowing my palms to scrape down my face. The reminder of her sucking on my finger like it was my cock has my dick hardening again. Not that the fucker has gone down since I saw her tonight at the café. I stop at the elevator, my feet unable to move, my hands unable to push the down button to leave. I turn and stare at her closed door. Is she still standing there? Shocked at my sudden exit? Cussing me into tomorrow for being the exact person I am? An asshole.
Shit, she’s probably making excuses for my erratic behavior because that’s who she is. Sweet and too fucking innocent for someone like me. I will ruin her. Isn’t that what you wanted? “No,” I argue out loud with myself. I wanted the same thing she wanted. Revenge. To make my brother pay. But she had to be the opposite of what my bastard brother painted her out to be. She wasn’t a cheating, money hungry, gold-digger. She was perfect. In every fucking way.
And I wanted her.
No matter how I ended up getting her.
She will find out. And she will. The truth always finds a way to surface. She will find out my intentions. She may end up hating me. But I’m just like my brother in a way. I’m a selfish bastard who takes what I want. And I want her. I’m going to keep her for myself until that day comes.
I start to grin at myself for the ridiculous line I fed her about being her friend. Fuck friends. Yeah, I wanted to be her friend. But I wasn’t going to be gentle about it. The messed up thing about it, was that she was willing to accept it. I didn’t need to wine and dine her. Listen to her talk to me about her day or fill her in on mine. She was willing to take only what I was offering. And that made me want her more. Because I did want to fuck her, badly. But I also wanted to get to know her. I wanted to learn what made her tick so I could get inside her, both physically and mentally, and know exactly how to work her. She was like a delicate flower, but if you got too close, her thorns would prick you. And that turned me on more than it should.
I take another look at her door when my body shifts, telling me change of plans. Fuck my brother. Fuck the original plan. I should never have checked up on her after that night. I should have walked away. But I didn’t. And I sure as hell can’t now.
I make it to her door and turn the knob, throwing it open with a hard shove. I hear her squeal, and almost immediately, my eyes find her exactly where I left her. Half-dressed and flushed. God, she looks like a fucking angel standing there, her perfect tits on display and her cheeks colored with signs of pure arousal.
“What are you…”
I storm towards her, grabbing the back of her neck and slamming my lips onto hers. I give her no time to prepare, as I shove my tongue into her mouth and take her in a rough kiss. I feel her tense at first, but then relax, bringing her hands cautiously onto my chest. She fears me running again. Well, she doesn’t need to, because I’m not going anywhere. I finally pull away, knowing she has to be in
need of air. I hear the quick intake of breath and I lock eyes with her.
“I don’t plan on being gentle with you. You deserve gentle. So you need to know what you’re getting yourself into.”
I’ve yet to ease up on my grip around her neck or take my eyes off her. I can tell by the way she looks back at me that my words rattle her. But they intrigue her more. I feel the pulse in her neck beat faster and my eyes pull away from her to inspect her nipples, which have hardened against my chest.
My eyebrows raise in amusement. My innocent little kitten is turned on. I know I intimidate her. Good. My eyes have always had that hardness to them that warns people to stay away. But this little one, I can tell, is up for the challenge. I can feel her skin begging for me to touch her. Waiting for her answer, I’m already thinking of all the ways I’m going to push her to her limits.
I watch as her lips part, aching to take her plump lip between my teeth and bite down until her whimpers turn into moans.
“What’s it gonna be?” I ask again, pushing her for a response.
“Your threat doesn’t scare me. I find it more challenging than anything.”
God, she makes my dick harder than it’s ever been. Her bold statement barely hides her nervousness. The way her body quivers under my grip while she attempts to hold her chin high. My eyes darken as my grip squeezes, causing a small whimper to slide from her pink lips. “Just say the words and I guess we’ll find out.”
I watch her every move as if it’s calculated. Her throat as she swallows. Her mouth as she licks her lips. The small case of bumps that are forming over her porcelain skin. And I know I am going to get the answer I want.
With the part of her lips, she speaks. “Have your way with me, Mr. Monroe.”
I’m already crushing her lips to mine. I wrap my hand around her body, pulling her ass into my groin. Her gasp into my mouth indicates she feels how hard I am right now. I grind on her, pushing my tongue deeper into her mouth and kissing her hard.
Her scent, the softness of her body pressed against mine, and the way she melts into me has my mind spinning. I want to take her and fuck every part of her until she only moans my name off those perfect lips.
I can’t take any more. I lift her by her ass, walking to the nearest wall. I need her naked and to be inside her five minutes ago. “I’m going to rip this blouse off. It will teach you to tease me with your tits like that.”
“But I can just un—”
I cut her off, reaching in between us and ripping her shirt open. Her gasp is covered by moaning once my mouth is around her perky tit. I suck until I know I’m going to leave a bruise. I love knowing her skin will be blemished with my mark. Once I’m satisfied, I move on to her other breast, pulling at her lace bra until I get the right amount of flesh in my mouth.
“Oh, Creed,” I hear my name off her lips and my dick hardens even more, if possible. I’ve heard many women, moan, scream, and cry my name, but the way it falls from her lips does something to me. I suck harder, using my teeth to scrape at her abused nipple. The way she squirms under my hold urges me to bite down harder, the thrill of feeling her back arch at my assault. Pain is beauty and I plan on teaching her all about it.
When her skin is red and swollen, I release my bite and move up to her neck. Her scent is like a drug. Sweet and innocent, layered over her smooth skin. I wonder how Steven denied himself of her. Ignored her and all her beauty. Remembering his words just after their divorce, how she was cold and dead in bed. The thought angers me, and a whimper causes me to release my strong hold around her hips. I lift my mouth from her neck, wanting to yell at her for wasting her life with him. For being so blind to the bastard my brother is. But before I do, I kiss her. Hard. I abuse her lips with such force, and when I finally pull back, they’re swollen. I take a good look into her eyes, lost in desire. No longer do I see the nervousness in them, but now replaced with lust. Need. Craze. And I know exactly what she is crazed for.
A gentleman may be slower and well-mannered when it comes to taking a woman, but that’s not what she will get out of me. I release my grip and quickly work my cock out of my pants. Thank fuck she has a skirt on because it would be another item of clothing I would ruin of hers. I don’t bother pampering her with foreplay because I already know she’s sopping wet for me. I hike up her skirt, exposing her peach thong and with the right angle, tear it off her beautiful thighs. Her sounds cause my dick to twitch. I need inside her now.
I should ask if she’s ready for me. If this is still what she wants. But like I said, I’m also a bastard, so I take what I want. I align myself right at her opening and thrust my hips forward, slamming deep inside her.
I MUST HAVE FALLEN ASLEEP because I woke up around four in the morning on the couch. Alone. I wasn’t hurt or even mad that Creed didn’t stay. I’m starting to quickly understand my new friend for the man he is. Unattached, rough around the edges, sex god.
This left me sated, sore, and wide open to conquer my first weekend in Seattle. I spent my first Saturday unpacking and settling into the new place. Amy and I Skyped for a few hours, catching up on each other’s week and when she asked me if I had met anyone yet, I remained mum in saying no. Sunday was pretty much a repeat, adding some cereal time and a walk around town, getting to know the area.
Now falling into Monday, and dragging myself out of bed, I get ready for work. As I rethink back to Friday night, Creed’s eyes are what come to mind first. For a man who is so closed off, and radiates such physical power, his eyes sure have a lot to say. I pinged Creed right from the beginning that he wasn’t the talkative type. There would be no moments when we lay in bed, or on the couch—or floor—where he would hold me and tell me stories of his past, his life. He was closed off. And not willing to open for anyone. But I got it. Our friendship wasn’t about getting to know each other in the tell-me-about-yourself kind of way. It was more along the lines of intense, explosive lust. The tell-me-what-you-desire kind.
And with that, I just accepted that Creed Monroe is unattached. Our friendship being a great example. We have sex. The unattached kind. And anyone can take the emotions out of sex. Okay, maybe not me. But it happens all the time. That’s why the phrase casual sex was invented. Casual, we’re not going to date or really care much for one another, but we’re going to fuck like rabbits until we get bored and move on.
With Creed, he shows no emotion. He shows it physically, in the way he touches me and talks dirty to me, but not in the passionate way a person would when emotions were involved. He was simply just about sex. Which meant I had to be also.
I jump in the shower and begin scrubbing my loofa over my body. Remembering the sensitive spots from my night, a smile creeps across my cheeks at how thrilling it was to be with him. That sense that what I’m doing is wrong makes me want it oh so much more. And it’s not just that he’s my ex’s brother. It’s the things he does to me, the things I beg him to continue to do. Things I should get my sinning ass to church and beg forgiveness for, just at the memory.
And boy, do I need some forgiving. Because the things that went down on Friday were completely sinful. And, is admitting that this friendship may be the best decision I’ve made yet okay to do? Well… yes, until certain factors settle in. One being that I’m going to want more than just sex. Not that I want it with him, but casual sex just isn’t part of my plan. Can plans change, though? If he came barging into my apartment right this instant and told me to get on my knees, would I? I shamefully turn beet red, picturing myself on my knees and feeling aroused at the submission. Participating in something so wicked kick starts my heart rate.
I’m brushing my loofa over my lower stomach, remembering his tongue on my skin. Moving lower with the memory of his fingers and mouth over my sex, I begin rubbing up and down over my flesh while picturing his mouth working me hard, puncturing my insides with his thick tongue. My breath catches and before I realize it, an unexpected orgasm is blasting through me.
“Shit,” I moan, working
through it, my nipples now feeling sensitive in the warm water spraying against my breasts. Jesus. What’s wrong with me? I shake my head and hurry to wash my hair and shave. Confused with this person I’m becoming; less the shy timid girl and more this bold woman wanting to feel. To live. I thought I was going to have that with Steven. That he would break this mold I was living and show me how it felt to really feel alive. He barely scraped the surface, whereas his brother is already layers deep inside me.
Checking the clock, I throw a business-casual dress on, making sure I’m fully covered this time, and head out to work. The sun is out with clear skies–unlike Friday– as I make my way to Roe Inc. I pass by the café and debate on going in for some breakfast, but I know I’ll get trapped and be late for work. “You’re only a Friday treat,” I tell the café, continuing my journey to the office.
With such a busy weekend, I didn’t put any thought into my issues with Todd. He hadn’t crossed my mind once, and now as I’m entering the office, I feel a little bit nervous that I should have thought of a game plan for how to handle him. Maybe telling him I have a boyfriend back home is a safe plan. A serious boyfriend.
Entering the investment firm, I wave at Virginia, who barely lifts her nose from her keyboard, and make my way to my office. My office. Crazy still to think! I drop my bag, plopping in my chair. I start up my computer and of course when my Outlook opens, ping after ping after ping ping ping ping! If I was worried about peeing and eating last week, this week I should be worried about taking too much time breathing. My schedule is overbooked with slots for meetings, trainings, and conference calls starting in thirty seconds, all the way till the time they shut the lights off for the night. With a huge huff, I grab my laptop, notepad, and race to the boardroom. As I’m entering, I notice Todd is sitting at the other end, piles of paperwork in front of him.
“Morning, Todd.” At the sound of my voice, he lifts his head to acknowledge me. That’s when I see it. “Holy smokes, what happened to your eye?” I take a few steps deeper in the room when he lifts his hand.
Creed's Expectations Page 8
