by Desiree Holt
Give It To Me
by
Desiree Holt
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Give It To Me
COPYRIGHT Ó 2007 by Judith Rochelle
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by Tamra Westberry
The Wild Rose Press
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0706
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Scarlet Edition, 2007
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To the Muses, who are always there for me.
Give It To Me
“God, I am so pathetic.” Callie Michaels leaned her head back and groaned into the telephone. “I must be pretty repulsive if even Derek Hamilton runs out when I tell him how I want to celebrate my birthday.”
She lay stretched across the arms of the big chair in her living room, the short apricot silk robe gaping open at her breasts and riding high on her thighs. An apricot feather-trimmed mule dangled from one foot. All day she’d been in a state of heated anticipation, the bag of new sex toys ready to show Derek on his arrival. When he called her at work and she’d given him a hint of her intentions, she thought he was as interested as she was. Then, tonight, at the last minute he’d called and cancelled.
“Stop that,” her friend Diana ordered. “I won’t let you talk about yourself like that. And I told you Derek was a loser from the word Go. Mr. Uptight Ass if I ever saw one.”
“I can’t believe I went to all this trouble for him,” she complained. “Here I am in this flimsy robe and wearing a heavy dose of Kiss Me in all the appropriate places. Not to mention spending a full afternoon at Personal Attentions Spa.” She giggled. “And I do mean personal. It’s the first time I’ve ever had an allover wax job. I don’t know how those people keep their minds on business.”
“You wasted it, planning to use it on Derek the Dipshit, that’s for sure. His loss is all I can say.”
“Just look at me.” Callie waved her hand in the air, as if Diana could actually do that. “Most women can’t get men to keep their hands off them and have to fight off all the things guys want to do. The men I date all want to turn the lights off, suck my tits, shove it in and shoot their wad.”
“That’s because all you ever date are guys who think the woman being on top is kinky. When have you ever dated someone with a little wild streak in them, someone whose eyes promise what you hope they’ll deliver?”
Callie sighed. “The problem is, men like that don’t seem to be too attracted to me, Diana. It isn’t that I haven’t tried.”
“Maybe it would help if you got rid of that female button-down look you’re so fond of.”
“Maybe I just don’t know how to be bad. Maybe I should just give it all up and forget about it.”
Diana chuckled. “You’ve wanted to do this a long time, honey. You spent hours in my shop after I closed, picking out just the right toys and making plans so you could have your celebration. You just picked the wrong guy. All the wrong guys.”
Diana owned a sex toy shop called Diana’s Delights that did a booming business. Callie was constantly surprised at how many people shopped there and how well the store did.
“Under the skin, everyone wants kinky,” Diana always told her, laughing.
Callie looked at the bright pink shopping bag sitting on the little table and groaned. “So what am I supposed to do? Walk up to some stranger and say, ‘Hi there, would you like to use a vibrator on me? Watch me use one on myself. Tie me up and spank the hell out of me? Fuck me in the ass?’”
Diana’s laugh reverberated through the phone line. “It would be nice if you could, but yes, I see the impractical side of that. I’ll tell you what you should do. Get yourself next door to Sam Winthrop’s place and invite him over. You know that’s what you really want, anyway.”
Callie sat up so fast her slipper dropped off her foot. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, honey, I’m more than serious. You’ve been telling me he’s the featured player in all your erotic dreams for the past six months. So shouldn’t he be the one to help you realize them?”
“But—but...”
“Callie. Sam Winthrop is every woman’s idea of gorgeous. Tall, lean, dark hair, rugged chin. Liquid silver eyes that undress you and a mouth that could eat you up. Yum yum. I’m getting hot just thinking about it.”
“What if he turns me down? What if this doesn’t work out? What if it does? Oh, God, I’d die of embarrassment. Besides, he’s never shown so much as one flicker of interest in me.”
Diana chuckled. “Sam Winthrop doesn’t look to me like a man who’d turn down a gorgeous woman who wants to invite him over for an evening of sex games. And I guarantee you, if you’d ever given him the slightest encouragement, he’d be all over you. Literally. I’ve seen how he looks at you.”
“I don’t know.” She nibbled on the tip of a coral nail.
“Callie, just do it. You really have nothing to lose. And you won’t be any worse off than you are now.”
“You mean barely touched and barely fucked, right?”
“I’m hanging up. Go next door, ring his bell, and tell him you want him to ring your chimes. And call me tomorrow with all the details.”
Callie sat for a long time holding the phone after the call ended. Did she really have the courage to do this? She sure couldn’t deny the fact that Sam Winthrop was drool material. She’d lick him all over if she got the chance. He’d certainly spent enough time in her dreams. Why, she wondered, had he never made a move on her? He might be a little rougher around the edges than the smooth talkers she’d been dating, but it was that very hidden wildness that attracted her.
She knew almost nothing about him personally except that he was a detective with the state police, kept very odd hours and never brought women to his house.
Wait. What if he was gay?
She shook her head. No, her gay-meter hadn’t budged whenever she saw him.
Putting the phone back in the cradle, she pushed herself out of the chair and went to the Diana’s Delights bag, taking each of the items out and laying them on the table. A new vibrating dildo in hot pink. A Rabbit with ears and a tickler that Diana said were guaranteed to pleasure her clit. Three butt plugs. “If you want to get fucked in the ass,” Diana had cautioned, “and it’s your first time, you have to work up to it.”
A bottle of scented oil and one of scented lotion. Two sets of leather handcuffs lined with purple fleece—”In case you want him to restrain both your wrists and your ankles. Great for getting fucked in the ass.”
And a tiny quilted pouch with two ivory balls in it. “There’s a drop of mercury in each one,” Diana told her. “Make sure you get them way up in your vagina, then walk around. You won’t believe the feeling. Just take my word for it, you’ll thank me afterwards.”
Putting everything back in the bag, Callie went to stand in front of the long mirror in her tiny hall. She twisted from side to side, looking at herself critically, then letting the robe fall open. Not bad. Her breasts were a little on the small side, but her nipples were plump and pink. She ran her hands down a stomach made flat by hours of exercise, reaching her newly-waxed mound.
&n
bsp; How strange it felt to have no hair at all there. Not even the little fuzz usually left when she shaved herself. One finger slipped between her labia and found moisture already gathering there. Well, hell. Hot and ready and no one to take her to the ball. Slowly she moved the finger up and down in the rhythm so familiar to her. She spread her feet and tilted her hips forward, pressing into the touch of her own hand.
She was so ready. Her cunt lips felt hot to the touch and wet with her juices. And why not? She’d been thinking about this all day. All week. Her finger began moving faster, giving her the friction she demanded. If she closed her eyes, maybe she could imagine it was someone else—like Sam—playing with her pussy.
She was almost tempted to get one of her new toys and try it out herself.
No! She yanked her hand away. Not tonight. She’d had enough nights where she’d gotten herself off with her vibrator or her little silver bullet or even her Pocket Rocket. Tonight she wanted a man’s hands on her. In her. His cock inside her. A man who loved sex with no boundaries.
She chewed her lip for a moment, thinking. Then she retied her robe—putting her clothes on wouldn’t accomplish her goal—grabbed her keys and an empty wine glass and headed for the door.
Okay, Sam Winthrop. Let’s see if you live up to your advertising.
****
Sam Winthrop threw his keys and wallet on the table, yanked off his tie and added it to the pile while unbuttoning his shirt. The day had been pure shit. Homicide cases were always messy, even more so when they were the result of a senseless domestic dispute. He’d worked way past end of shift, processing the crime scene with the forensics team and questioning the neighbor about what happened. Sam loved his job, but some days the underbelly of society just got to him.
And Susan hadn’t helped one bit. Calling him on his cell to rag on him because he’d broken their dinner date. And calling him at the crime scene, no less. Listening to her razor-sharp voice, it dawned on him what a real bitch she was. He wondered why he’d invested so much time in her. She certainly gave nothing back. And lately the sex hadn’t even been that great.
It would be nice to meet a woman who didn’t worry about her hair getting mussed during sex, or who enjoyed some of the raunchy stuff that turned him on. Bring up anything like spanking or playing with his handcuffs and they looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. And fuck them in the ass? Forget it! He never even asked.
Well, lucky him, he had two days off to sit around and feel sorry for himself.
Heading for his bedroom, he stripped off the rest of his clothes, dropped them in a heap on a chair and turned on the shower in the bathroom. The hot water revived his tired muscles and made him feel almost human again. Maybe after a while he’d throw on some clothes and head down to Ray’s. He could always find some of the guys there, looking for a game of pool, or maybe just to have a beer with. He might get lucky and a mouth-watering female confection would appear and say, “How about a night of hot, raunchy sex?”
Yeah, right.
Not that he wanted it that way all the time. Sometimes he liked it nice and slow and sweet. But it had to be with the right person. And that right person had to like the other stuff as much as he did.
He turned off the shower and grabbed a towel to dry himself as the sound of the doorbell pierced his water-dampened brain. He scowled. Who the hell could be at his door? For a frightening moment, he thought maybe Susan had decided to track him down and chew him out again, then rejected that thought. Too much trouble on her part.
The bell rang again, more insistently, as if the person was leaning on it.
“All right, all right. Hold your water. I’m coming.”
He wrapped the towel around his waist, padded down the hall, yanked open the door...and stood with his jaw dragging on the floor.
Framed in the doorway was the most tempting confection to dazzle his eyes in, well, he couldn’t remember when. Rich brown hair with tawny streaks cascaded down her back in ripples, hazel eyes with gold flecks peered at him from under a thick sweep of eyelashes, and topping it all off, a bow of a mouth set off by a peaches and cream complexion.
She was dressed in a very short silk robe that barely brushed the tops of her thighs, and unless his eyesight had suddenly gone bad, she was completely naked underneath. Hardened nipples poked at the soft material, and when she shifted her stance the robe gaped slightly at the bottom to show...wait...was that a naked pussy peering out at him?
His eyes were drawn back to her mouth. He could close his eyes and imagine it wrapped around his cock, sucking, drawing on him, her tongue licking...
Cut it out, Winthrop. Pull yourself together.
He swallowed—a hard thing to do against the sudden absence of spit in his mouth—and took a deep breath. If he blinked, would she disappear?
“Um, hello Sam.”
Sam? She knew his name? This wasn’t a mistake?
“Maybe I’ve come at a bad time.” She sounded uncertain. “I-I can come back later. Or something.”
“No.” He shouted it, took a breath and more softly said, “No. Don’t go away. What...”
“Sam, it’s me. Callie.”
He blinked again. “Callie Michaels?”
The object of every erotic dream he’d had for the past six months since she moved in next door? The woman he would most like to fuck? The woman whose wet heat he’d sell his soul to stick his tongue into? Unattainable Callie Michaels? Standing in his doorway practically naked?
“Um, yeah. I, uh, hi, Callie. What can I do for you?”
He saw the uncertainty flash across her face again. He tightened his grip on her arm to keep her from leaving.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, it’s sort of like this. Today is my birthday.”
“Happy birthday.”
“Thanks. Anyway, I had kind of a special celebration planned, but it seems I have no one to do celebrate with. So I wondered if you’d like to have a glass of wine with me.” She held out the empty glass.
He managed to chuckle. “The glass is empty, in case you didn’t notice.”
She bobbed her head. “The wine is next door. At my place. I was wondering, if, that is, would you like to come over and help me celebrate my birthday?”
He managed to keep from grabbing her with both hands and got himself under some kind of control. Then he realized she was a bundle of nerves and wondered what the hell was going on.
“Sure, Callie. I’ll come have a glass of wine with you. Just let me get some clothes on...”
“No.” Now she was the one shouting.
She wet her lips, the tip of her tongue peeping out and driving him crazy. He was having the greatest difficulty keeping his cock from knocking his towel off.
“No?”
“I mean, you should come just the way you are.” She blushed. “Come over, I mean.”
He found a smile somewhere. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s compromise. I’ll just pull on my jeans and be right there. How’s that.”
“O-Okay.” She waved in the direction of her house. “I’ll just go open the wine. I’ll leave the door open for you.”
“I’ll be right there. Just give me a minute, okay?”
“Sure.”
She gave him a tenuous smile, then turned to head back to her own place. Sam couldn’t take his eyes away from the sway of her hips and the bounce of her ass under the shimmering silk fabric. He had to fist his hands to keep from reaching for them, pulling those tempting globes apart and staring at what he knew would be just the sweetest anus in the world.
Jesus, Sam. Cool it. She just wants you to have a glass of wine for her birthday.
Yeah? Is that why she came over here all but naked and didn’t want me to get dressed?
He talked to himself all the while he pulled on his jeans and ran a comb through his hair. “Don’t get your hopes up,” he said over and over. “And don’t play grabass the minute you get in the door. Show her you have manners.”
/> But Jesus, this was so hard. Just like his cock. He’d been jealous of all the pretty poster boys in their expensive suits that he watched Callie head out with. Of course, if he was being real honest, she hadn’t ever seemed all that excited about any of them.
He started to reach for a shirt, then changed his mind. She hadn’t wanted him in anything but a towel, and she wasn’t too overdressed herself. Okay, no shirt. He shoved his feet into loafers, stuck his keys in his pocket and opened the front door.
Please, he prayed silently, let me at least take more than five minutes before I rip her clothes off and shove myself into her.
****
Callie was in the kitchen, opening the wine, when she heard Sam come in and close the front door. She had several arguments with herself since coming back from his house, losing every one of them. She could hardly remember what she’d said to him, she’d been so busy staring at him. All that nice, thick curly black hair on his chest, glistening from the water droplets still clinging to it. The hard muscles visible under it, as well as in his arms and what she could see of his abdomen.
There was no denying the heat in those silver eyes when he’d opened his door and looked at her. Or the way his towel tented as his cock stood at attention. She had felt liquid moistening her warm, dark haven the whole time she was standing there. And with no hair on the skin at all, the feeling was ten times as stimulating, setting up a throbbing deep in her core.
She’d debated whether to hide the bag of toys from Diana’s Delights, but if she was gong to entice him into using them with her, leaving them out in plain sight was a big hint. She’d see how he reacted to them.
“Hi.”
She looked up to see him in the doorway, chest still bare, soft jeans slung low on his hips. Her mouth began to water.
“Hi yourself.” She held out a glass of wine to him. “I hope you like chardonnay. It’s what I usually buy.”
“This is fine.”
