They all nod their heads in agreement. Bimbo number ten screamed, “Fuck, yeah,” at the top of her lungs, which is probably going to make my coworkers wonder what exactly is going on in this conference room. Damn. He must know how to really fuck a woman right. No way all ten of these bimbos faked their orgasms when they are all willing to tear open each other's throats for stealing him away from them.
To all of our dismay, Bimbo number nine stood up. She refused to speak earlier, letting number ten speak in her place. We all stare at her petite frame. She has black hair and bluish-green eyes, which start spewing out tears. I watch as the tears cascade down her cheeks. She stands there, still mute, but crying her eyes out in silence. It was as if she was immobilized from the waist down…she wanted to move but couldn't muster up enough strength to do so.
I quickly dismiss all of them, letting them leave the room. Number nine didn't move. I walk over to her, pull a tissue out of my jacket pocket, and start to dry her tears.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" She moves her head ever-so-slightly as if it was going to fall off if she moved too fast.
"Sarah Gracen," she whispers. It was very soft and almost inaudible. Sarah Gracen. Where have I heard that name before?
"Well, Sarah, are you alright?" She nods slowly.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" She nods again and we both take a seat at the table. She uses her hands to dry the rest of the tears I missed with the tissue. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and finally breaks her silence.
"You may have heard of me. My name is kind of infamous around here. I was his first and only girlfriend. I guess just his first girlfriend since he's engaged now. I dated him for six years before we broke up. He was a true gentleman. He truly cared for everybody in his life, stranger or not. Until one day, he just changed. He broke up with me and started sleeping around with every woman with a pulse."
"Did he ever give you a reason for the breakup?" She shakes her head.
"He just said I wasn't right for him. I was devastated. Two weeks later, I climbed the Empire State Building and contemplated suicide." That's why I know her name. I reported that story for the Gazette eight years ago. What happened to him eight years ago to bring about such an abrupt change in his personality and way of life?
"Long story short, I decided to live and move on with my life. But not a day goes by where I don't miss him…the old him. The Aaron Hunter who was so genuine and kind." I caught a small glimpse of that Aaron last night.
"Thank you so much for sharing your personal story with me. Did you ever find out what happened eight years ago to make him change?"
"No. I wish I knew, though. It might just provide me the final bit of closure I so desperately need."
"Well, I will do my best to provide that closure for you."
Her face lights up at my last comment. I didn't even know she was capable of such happiness. I guess all she really needed was somebody to talk to. And hope. Everybody needs a little bit of hope in their lives.
I spent the rest of the afternoon searching through the Gazette's archives, desperately trying to find a lead on the Aaron Hunter mystery. A death in the family, a tragic accident, traumatic experience…nothing. And his whole family's record is squeaky clean. Not even a fucking traffic violation. This is hopeless.
I guess I'll just have to ask the source himself. After all, he did say no questions were off limits tonight.
* * *
Prince Charming arrives fifteen minutes early and knocks on my door. After putting the last few touches on my makeup, I walk to the door, open it, and let him in.
"So, you found me," I say flirtatiously, instantly regretting it when he laughs. As usual, my body responds. Why is this starting to become the norm?
"It wasn't easy, but I appreciate the challenge."
"What's with you and challenges anyway?" He runs his fingers through his hair before he shrugs.
"So, the inquisition begins early. Just like to be challenged, I guess."
"Then you're really gonna love the zinger I plan to throw at you tonight."
"Is that so?" he asks flirtatiously as he arches one of his eyebrows. Damn, he is like testosterone on a stick. Every mundane thing looks so goddamn sexy when he does it.
"Hello?" Shit! He caught me staring at him like a teenage girl does her crush. Do I have a crush on him? No fucking way. I can't. I won't let myself.
"So, where are we headed?"
"Not so fast. It's a surprise."
"Well, it better have seafood 'cuz I plan on getting a thirty-five-hundred-dollar lobster." I lick my lips to try to get a rise out of him, or the associate in his slacks. No such luck.
To make matters worse, he laughs again, getting a rise out of me. I can feel heat rushing to my cheeks. Great, now I'm fucking blushing.
"You crack me up, Parker." I'm beginning to notice that myself. I need to stop being so damn funny; my ovaries can't take it. Correction, they can't take him.
He exits my apartment and I quickly follow, close the door, and lock it. He grabs ahold of my hand and I practically swoon. The little girl inside of me is loving every minute of this, while the grown-ass woman in me snatches her hand out of his, reclaiming it.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snap. He flashes his infamous panty-dropping smirk accompanied by his drop-dead-gorgeous dimples.
"Your elevator is broken. I thought you’d like a hand going down four flights of steps in those." He nods his head toward my six-inch high heels.
"My elevator is broken? It worked fine just a couple of hours ago." Aaron shrugs his broad shoulders and then points to the elevator doors. I look to see a white sign with the words Out of Order written boldly in a red font. "I'll be damned. Yes, I would like some help then."
I give Aaron my hand and accept his offer to help me down the steps. There was no way I was going down four flights of steps in six-inch heels without some assistance. Granted, I could take them off and then put them back on when I'm in the lobby, but I decide to just let him win this one. I don't have to fight him on everything. Score: Nicole-one, Aaron-one.
As we exit my apartment building, I am shocked to not a see a limo waiting for us outside.
"What, no limo?" As the words fly out of my mouth, I notice a shocked expression form on his beautifully sculpted face.
"I never pegged you as the princess type." Crap. I meant for that to sound all condescending. That backfired real fast.
"I'm not the princess type," I reply, barely able to spit out the word princess. I loathe that word. Fairy tales were never my thing. I'm never going to be some damsel-in-distress. And I'm sure as hell never going to wait for a man to rescue me. I rely on my own wit and charm. I'm more like Mulan. I'm nice and charming, but cross me and I will cut your fucking balls off. "So, where's the car?"
"No car. I thought we'd just walk."
"Really? And let the paparazzi follow me around like I'm one of your whores? I don't think so. I'm not going to let the whole world think I'm the woman you’re cheating on your fiancée with. No way, Jose." He snickers.
"Relax, will ya? The 'razzi are waiting for me at a fake press conference I had my assistant whip up late last night. They'll be there until nine, at least." Okay, that was brilliant. There is more to Aaron than just his good looks. And I plan on unraveling every layer of him.
We walk side-by-side, but we don't hold hands…I made sure of that. We walk together in complete silence. Well, except for the sounds of fellow pedestrians, car horns, and the obnoxious tapping sound of my heels hitting the pavement with every step I take. If I knew we would be walking so much, I would've worn flats or at least wedges.
I take a wrong step, my left heel snapping completely off as it collides with the crack where the two sidewalk pieces meet. I lose my balance and gravity starts to work its magic. Just as I am about to smack my nose onto the cold, hard pavement, I feel an arm wrap around my waist, pulling me back upright again. He scoops me into his arms and I imm
ediately begin to protest.
"Put me down, Hercules. I am perfectly capable of walking."
"On that thing?" He uses his eyes to gesture to my now heelless high-heel shoe. Fuck. Score: Nicole-one, Aaron-two. "I thought so."
I take this opportunity to smell him. You can tell a lot about a man by the way he smells. I swiftly inhale the scent of him, hoping he doesn't notice. He smells like a man, aka androstenol, one of the most powerful male pheromones known to women. The scent makes the tingling sensation between my legs reappear, much stronger and more aggressive this time. Then the thought dawns on me: I am in danger of falling in too deep.
Keep your eye on the prize, Nicole: the promotion. Being editor is worth a little heartache. Isn't it? Yes.
We finally arrive at MiMi's Shack of Fish. How does he know me so well when we just met? I love seafood.
"Reservation for Colon."
The hostess, Darnel, checks her list and nods in confirmation. She then escorts us to our table. It's on a second-story balcony, overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, lit only by candlelight.
Aaron, still carrying me, pulls out my chair with his leg, carefully placing me into it before he scoots me inward back toward the table. What a gentleman.
He takes his seat across from me and orders a bottle of wine from Jeffrey, our waiter. He must've sneaked in when I was being manhandled by Aaron. Maybe manhandled was too aggressive of a word for it, but I don't care.
Aaron brings me back to reality when he clears his throat.
"Colon, huh?"
"Yeah, I use that name whenever I don't want to be found." Good to know. I'll search the database for Aaron Colon first thing tomorrow morning. He interrupts my train of thought.
"I have to ask you. Have we met before yesterday? You look very familiar."
"Met, no. Seen each other, yes. It was at…" He cuts me off, interrupting me.
"…Rochell's New Year’s Eve Party four years ago?" I nod in agreement. Wait for it.
"Oh, my God. Oh, my God." There it is. "I'm so sorry for that."
I giggle at the memory.
"There's nothing to apologize for. You had some woman pinned up against the wall. She was sucking on your neck, while you were looking behind you, staring at me like a creeper the entire time."
"I wasn't staring," he retorts.
"Oh, please. She could've been sucking your dick and you wouldn't have broken eye contact with me." Aaron howls with laughter as he shakes his head no. I try to tune out the sound of his laughter and focus on the sound of the breeze, or the ocean. Nope, didn't work.
I fold my arms over my chest, hoping to hide the fact that my hard-ass nipples are visibly protruding from my dress. My heartbeat quickens, causing my breath to grow shallow and urgent. I can't deny it any longer. I want him. Right here, right now.
Chapter Five
Nicole
Step 3: Make him want you.
We barely made it through dinner without ripping each other's clothes off. The sexual tension only increased as the night progressed.
Somehow, we manage to fumble into the limousine that was waiting for us outside of MiMi's. I want him to take me right then and there. I expect him to accept my offer in a heartbeat out of fear of me coming to my senses and rescinding the offer. But to my dismay, he didn't.
Instead, he leans over toward me and lets his mouth hover just a few inches over my right ear. He bites down on my earlobe, sending a tingling sensation down my spine.
"Not here. You're too good for that," he growls as he sends a trail of scorching kisses down my neck.
He pauses for a moment, his fiery lips resting above the place where the crook of my neck meets my shoulder. His torrid breath on my silky skin makes me shudder abruptly. Then he did it. He made me go from turned on to please fuck me all in one swift move. He lets his lips fall onto my neck and he sucks it, causing me to squeal involuntarily. Embarrassed, I immediately cross my legs, trying to hold on to some of my dignity. The roughness of his stubble scrapes against my tender skin, igniting it.
I don't know what it is about this man that makes me melt into a puddle. He takes his lips off my neck. I stare at them, wondering what they taste like. Urgently, I grab ahold of his tie, twist it around my fingers, and yank him toward me. Our lips collide violently as I voraciously devour him as if my survival depends on it. I run my tongue along his bottom lip, causing him to moan into my mouth.
Somehow, we manage to get into an elevator. That's when he grabs my ass and lifts me up into the air, his weight pinning me against the nearest frigid metal wall. I feel his full length press into my thigh. He wants me as much as I want him. That much is certain. What isn't certain is just how he is making me lose all control. Anybody who knows me knows that I need to be in control.
The elevator doors open, and without missing a beat, he carries me inside, nearly tripping up the stairs as I am transferred to the bedroom. How he managed to transport me so effortlessly, all without breaking our kiss, I'll never know. But it sure as hell turned me on. I must regain control.
I pull my hands through his thick hair, yanking his head back to provide me better access to his mouth. I probe my tongue into his mouth, exploring every nook and cranny as if I owned it. In that moment, I pretty much did. He groans, and I can feel his throbbing cock twitch with anticipation.
He lowers me onto the bed, resting his body on top of mine. As he breaks the kiss, I instantly miss his succulent lips on mine. My lips tingle from the absence of his as he moves on to devouring my neck. He releases a beastly growl against my neck, which cultivates an intense throbbing between my legs.
I throw my head back and moan with anticipation. Hearing this, he lifts up his head and gazes right into my eyes.
"Are you sure you want this? Just say the word and I'll stop." His voice is raspy and harsh. I can tell he is also trying to catch his breath. I sure as hell never thought he would ask me that. It belittles his hard-earned womanizer reputation.
I nod my head in response. He shakes his.
"I need to hear you say it." His aggressive tone is a huge turn-on. I look him dead in the eye. They gleam with concern. It is very touching.
"I want this."
As if he was afraid I would change my mind, he instantly yanks off his tie, tossing it to the floor. And in about five more seconds, he unbuttons his dress shirt, allowing me to see his bare chest for the first time.
It was more beautiful than I imagined. It was clearly chiseled by God because even Michelangelo couldn't have sculpted something so perfect. And I can't wait to run my tongue over every inch of it.
Next is the belt. Then the shoes. The pants. Now, it’s time for the main event. As he pulls down his boxers, releasing his hard cock from its prison, I can feel my mouth start to water with anticipation.
Now, it’s my turn. I fling off my heels in what seems like an endless fury. I wiggle my way out of my dress, relieved that I didn't have to spoil the mood by asking him to unzip me.
As I reach to unhook my bra, his hand stops me. "Allow me."
With one quick swish of his finger, my breasts bounce into place.
I rest on my back as he hovers over me, his eyes gawking at the sight of my naked body. This time, when I look into his eyes, I see a gleam of mischief. And that's fucking exciting.
Unable to control his carnal desire, he grasps both my breasts and gently massages them with his hands. My breath grows rapid and shallow. When his thumb brushes over one of my overly-sensitive nipples, I shriek with pleasure.
"That's right, baby. Don't hold back." Don't let him have all the control. Take some of your own. Show him who's boss.
With all the strength I can muster, I roll us both over, towering over him like a champ. A puzzled expression overtakes his face. He clearly wasn't expecting that. If he had, he probably would've prevented it. Now, it's my turn.
I grab both his wrists and place them over his head.
"Don't move," I hiss. And probably out of curiosity, he o
beys.
I take my golden opportunity and place my tongue on his rock-hard abs, licking every hump and ridge. I find my way to his nipples, desperately wanting to make him moan in pleasure, just like he did to me. I encircle the outer rim first before I brush my tongue over its tip.
I let my gaze shoot upward, staring into his hazel eyes, not breaking eye contact. You can tell a lot about a man just by looking into his eyes. And right now, his sparkle with vulnerability. Recognizing that, he closes them, shutting me out of the emotional connection.
I could tell he was enjoying having his nipples played with, but it is not enough. I want him to lose all control. And that means making my way downward.
As I grasp his firm, straining cock in my hand, his head shoots up. I begin stroking him. He throws his head back. Finally, some sign of pleasure from him.
I decide to take it a step further, placing my tongue on his tip, teasing it. Instantly, his hands fall to his sides, clenching fistfuls of the sheets between them. I open my mouth and let my throat accommodate every inch of him. He gasps. Finally.
I run my mouth up and down his shaft, each time withdrawing a pleasurable exhale from him. His grasp on the sheets tightens, causing his knuckles to turn white. He is trying so hard to obey my earlier command. But I want him to lose control. I want him to go full-on alpha male, take back control, and plow me into what's probably going to be the best orgasm I’ve ever had, or else all ten Bimbos lied to me.
As if he read my mind, he pushes me off him, dislodging his erection from my throat. He bends me over the edge of the bed and tugs down my lace panties.
I scream with pleasure as his swollen cock abruptly thrusts into me from behind. I feel my muscles contract around him effortlessly.
His tender side he showed me at the beginning is completely diminished. He is now a pure animal.
He bends over me, resting on my back, whispering nasty thoughts into my ear. It was, surprisingly, a massive turn-on.
He picks up the pace. Each thrust extruding a husky grunt out of him and a high-pitched squeal out of me. I can feel my climax quickly building up inside of me.
Double Agent Page 4
