by Daphne Dawn
He pumps into me, and yet the rush of the crashing wave almost takes me over.
He's kissing me thoroughly and with authority like he knows how crazy his domination makes me. The exquisite pain and pleasure bring me to the edge of the cliff. I hang there for a while.
And then I fall.
"I'm coming, Braden. Fuck," I whisper.
I come around his cock, from within and from without, and I cry out into his mouth as sparks fly off behind my eyelids, my juices flowing from my clenching pussy to soak his cock.
He's pleased. It only took about a minute of him being inside of me for me to have one of the most earth-shattering orgasms of my life.
The world seems dim as all I can focus on is the feeling of Braden's cock still thrusting into me over and over again. He speeds up, and now that I've come, I’m so fucking wet, the sound of our bodies slapping together making everything even hotter.
Our lips are clenched together, neither of us wants to let up. He fucks me hard and he fucks me fast. My first orgasm rolls into another and then another.
Braden Masterson is making me come multiple times. Who he is and what he represents all but disappears. I'm only cognizant of the feeling of his lips and the feeling of his cock filling me in.
He fucks me against the wall for a long time, both of us savoring the moment. And then, at last, he speeds up and fucks me so hard, it's almost as if I'm not there. It's all for him.
He can't hold back any longer and I like the feeling of being his object. If that's wrong, I don't care. The sensation of Braden losing himself in me is right in my world.
He comes inside of me hard and fast. The hot liquid sprays into me and it feels so good. I come again—though I can't be completely sure because this whole experience has been one crazy long orgasm.
I'm shredded by this man in the best possible way. I can already tell I'm addicted to sex like this because I’ve never had it this good. Sex with him is just on a different level, and I can’t get enough.
He lets me down gently, and I sit on the bench. At my side, Braden takes long breaths, just riding the wave before wrapping his arm around me.
We both know what we just experienced was something unique. What we have is intense and special and unparalleled. He's harsh and rugged and fucking perfect for me.
I just wonder what it is that I am to him.
11
Jenna
I yawn as I turn the key to lock my door.
Being an overachiever has its merits, but being up at the crack of dawn isn't one of them.
The early morning light streams in through the hall windows, between the skyscrapers from across my building.
I'm always up this early, eager to get to work and do what I do best. The thought of motors and technology, and the glamour of the fast life gets me going. My job's exciting, but it doesn’t make my mornings any less brutal.
New York often feels shadowy because of the towering steel buildings that adorn every street. Lucky for me, I have somewhat of a view every time I leave my apartment. I can just barely see the shimmering sunrise through a break in the building.
It's not so cold with spring in the air. Pretty soon, early rosebuds and flower blossoms will line the paved streets instead of snow.
It's been a long winter and I'm ready for rebirth.
Braden seems to be that rebirth for me. He's all I can think about and I can't say I hate that.
We had sex in the powder room but that was it. I didn't go back to his place. I'm trying to draw some lines in the sand. I'm trying to keep some semblance of boundaries up even though I can't resist Braden.
I walk out of my building and say goodbye to the friendly doorman. I live in a pretty upscale place. I make good money doing what I do, and while that's not the reason I'm in it, it's part of the reason why I stay and don't legitimize my job.
I walked to my car where I always park it on the street. I drive a pretty inconspicuous BMW. It goes fast, but not as fast as I'm used to cars going.
This morning, however, there are a couple people in suits leaning against the hood of my car.
I approach them.
"Hey, that's not your property."
"Mrs. Lockhart?" one of them says to me.
"That's Miss to you sir, and how do you know my name?"
"We're gonna be the one asking you questions, understand?" he flashes his badge from his inner suit pocket.
Fuck. I feel like walls might as well be crumbling down on me.
I already know they're here because of the racing league and my involvement with it. I've been hoping this day would never come, but here it is.
"So you're official, what's it to me?" I ask, trying to blow them off.
"Ms. Lockhart, I think you're gonna be very interested in what we have to say. My name is Mr. Harrison, and this is my partner Mr. Sanchez. We're investigating a certain Braden Masterson that we know you are well acquainted with."
My heart sinks as I realize this is more about Braden than it is about me. Suddenly, I'd give anything for this to be about me. Look at me wanting to take the fall for a man I'm not even committed to yet.
Sanchez says, "We've been tracking Braden for a long time. And it's come to our attention that you've become close to him very quickly. This is unusual behavior for him. Normally, his circle is so tight that we can't get an edge in. But with you, things may be different."
I try to get into my car, but they block me.
"What do you guys want? I don't know what you're talking about, and why you’d be investigating Braden."
I try to play off my innocence.
"Please Ms. Lockhart, don't be evasive with us. We know you're in on it too. You're part of a high-stakes illegal racing league in town. We know all about your work and what you do.
“But like I said, we're more interested in Braden at this point. He's been bribing officials and officers for ages. And we know that he's developed an incredibly illegal car modality that he's been using to win these races. We want to use that to expose him."
Oh my gosh, they’re referring to Braden's new technology. How could it be illegal? Do they somehow know more about it than I do?
I have my own questions about his methods, but now I can see clearly the FBI does too.
"Well I don't know anything about it," I say honestly.
"That's okay," Mr. Harrison says. "Nobody knows about the technology yet. But we want you to use your position as someone who is close to him. Get to the bottom of his new invention, and find out whatever technology Braden is using to get ahead. You're gonna find and bring the information to us.
“Once we have that information, we're gonna leak it to the competing racers and everyone will realize what Braden's been doing to win. The organization will crumble from the inside."
Wow, these guys must be really confident in their abilities to sway me that they're gonna reveal their entire plan.
The sun is barely breaking across the sky. My day hasn’t even begun, and yet I already have to deal with this?
"I don't know why you think he would trust me with something like that. I'm barely involved with him. In fact, I've barely even met the guy."
Mr. Sanchez says, "You're so beautiful though Jenna. It will be easier for you to glean information from him, than it would be if we drag him down to our headquarters."
This agent is hitting on me and it doesn't make me the least bit uncomfortable. I know I'm strong and I can handle myself even with the threat.
He continues.
"You know we're going to arrest all the racers once the head of the franchise comes down. Once we have Braden Masterson, we're gonna take down the entire racing ring, and that includes you."
I look at him closely, but try not to reveal any emotion. They really are planning on bringing The Billionaires Club to its knees.
"You and your team are under threat. But if you help us, we can ensure your safety. We can grant immunity to your team in exchange for doing our dirty work."
/> Oh, they're bribing me now? That's rich coming from law enforcement. These guys are really starting to ruin my day. Most of all, the thought of Braden getting hurt and being wrapped up in the middle of this, makes me feel afraid for him.
If I work for these guys, I'll be part of his demise. But if I don't help them, it sounds like I'll be planning my own fall from grace. It's an impossible choice, one I'm not at all prepared to make.
Mr. Harrison says, "You know Jenna, you don't really have a choice in all this. Once everything falls apart, all the racers are gonna be rounded up and put in jail. You'll be swept up in the fray along with your team. Unless of course, you decide to help us."
"Excuse me, when did we decide to operate on a first name basis?" I say to them, trying to avoid answering the question.
"We're going to get everyone sooner or later, Ms. Lockhart. You'll just make it easier for us and yourself if you cooperate," Harrison says to me.
I feel hesitant and very caught off guard. I don't know what to do. There doesn't seem to be a choice in the matter, but I definitely don't want to do this. I can't be the one to bring Braden down. I have more integrity than that. Besides, I care about everyone who’s been part of the circuit.
I put my sunglasses on and try to act cool as a cucumber.
"I'll think about it."
I push my way past them and into the driver's seat of my car. I'm upset about this turn of events and I don't how to respond. I just know I have to get away from here, so I could think. I hit the gas and drive away as fast as possible.
Once I’m far enough, I allow myself to unravel. This can’t be happening. Right when I’ve connected with Braden and we have a chance for things to begin, this nonsense has to come falling down around us.
I don’t know what Braden and I are yet. I don’t know if this is a fling that will fizzle, or if there’s really something meaningful here. But, I do know that every instinct tells me to protect Braden.
I worry about my team too. I have a responsibility to them, and I feel pulled in all directions. I can’t protect everybody. I may not even be able to protect myself.
The day’s starting to look bleak and I decide to take a drive out of city limits to clear my head before I go into work. I can’t face my team just yet.
Somehow, someway, I have to find a solution to this problem. I’ve never dealt with cops before. I’m not the one doing the bribing. I have different concerns.
Suddenly, as my dreams begin to fade, this illegal club seems not worth it. If I lose Braden over this whole thing, none of it will have been worth it. Of that I am sure.
I speed past city limits and into open space where I can race and become one with the road. Only then can I begin to sort out a solution.
12
Braden
She arches her back and sways on my lap.
She grinds down hard, trying to feel the length of my cock forbidden to her.
She runs her fingers through my hair, and I reach out and touch her tits.
She's both everything I want―and nothing at all to me.
Why? Because she's not Jenna.
A strobe light flashes across the stripper's face.
She's okay, I guess. But I'm not looking for okay―I'm looking for the best. And I think I might already have her within my grasp. But she's certainly not here.
We come here a lot. It's called The Laguna. It's an upscale place―private, members only. It's like everything else in my life: a secret.
I like having access to places like this, ones that no one else can dream of getting into. Normal people wouldn't even know how to find it. It's not like there's a sign hanging out on the street.
No, this strip joint is deep and dark, hidden inside a towering building downtown. It's super exclusive, and you have to have exclusive access to get in―which I naturally do.
I already have access to the pinnacle of society, so why not here? It's usually my favorite haunt―a place where you can get nice pussy, drinks, and exclusivity. It all goes together.
And yet tonight I'm off my game.
I usually get off on this. Spending time where other people aren't allowed. I get off on my VIP status. Usually, I also get off on the women in here.
But not tonight. Tonight my mind is on her. She's ever-constant in my thoughts and it drives me crazy.
The dancers here are the best of the best. They're the most beautiful women in the world who are also willing to dance for money. In most cases, they end up doing so much more.
I can't say that I haven't had my taste of the women in here. There's a variety to choose from, and tonight all the greats have stepped up. You've got every version of beauty to feast your eyes on―and feast I do.
I may not want to touch, but I can still delight my senses by looking at the beautiful array of women. It's like a fucking beauty pageant, minus the clothes.
But something's changed.
This girl who's giving me a lap dance, her name is Roxie. She's tanned and toned, and she has huge, fake tits and a pretty smile, but something just isn’t driving me wild with desire.
She's trying to hook me on her line. These dancers are good at what they do. They know exactly how to move to get the best tips, and a few have been known to give the best blowjobs in town.
But they want me for more than just my money. I'm the one client in this place who could get out of here without paying a penny. Why is that, you ask? Well, I've been known to show a select group of dancers in here a good time. And Roxie seems to be aching for it bad.
I've never had her before, but she's doing everything she can to make me take her into that back VIP room. She wants me to fuck her in there, to slam her up against the window and make her pussy mine.
Rumors about the size of my cock have surely spread. Combined with my level of power and endurance, mingled with a rock solid body…and there’s no doubt I have the rumor mill spinning.
She surely wants a taste of it. By the way she's crushing her hips down on my manhood, I can tell she wants it real bad.
She pulls out her best moves. She makes sure she’s worth the money.
She's pushing her tits in my face, kissing my neck, but ultimately it's when she slides her thinly-laced pussy along the length under my pants that I'm made acutely aware of just how much she's yearning for me.
I stop her with a stern look and zero affection.
"Hey, Roxie, not tonight okay?"
She tries to argue, "Come on, baby, don't you want to go back to the VIP room for your usual? You know I can do amazing things in there."
She licks her lips as if that'll seal the deal.
Did she not hear me the first time? I'm not used to having to repeat myself.
I pick her up and move her off my lap, but not before slipping a very generous tip along the band of her small thong.
She's disgruntled, pouting until she sees the size of the bill I just deposited along the line of fabric that grazes her glittering, tanned hip.
She's happy with that at least. Roxie shrugs and goes to find a new man. I know she's disappointed that I didn't take her back to that little room, but what was I gonna do? Fuck her absentmindedly while thinking of Jenna?
I will always give Jenna more respect than that.
I'm here with the group of guys, some of them racers. We usually go out and get off on this sort of thing. Who wouldn't love to see the world's most premiere dancers giving you a private show?
Any man would love to be in my position. But my life is too fast for even the most adventuresome guy to handle. When I don't have my head in the books inventing new technology, I'm taking the world by storm.
Everything's exciting in my life. Great, even. And that's why I'm scratching my head trying to understand this new problem.
I sip my bourbon and brood on that very problem. It has a name: Jenna. I can't get her off my mind, and I'm not sure that I want to.
She's so much more beautiful than any of these other women. I've had my eye on her f
or a long time, and now that it's coming to fruition, I need to make sure I lock it down.
Jenna's not the type of woman to mess around with. There can be no bullshit involved with her, no games. She knows herself, and she knows her worth.
She's worth $10 million just for her smarts alone. I'd give anything to have her come to my team. I think about this as a future conversation.
I try to push her from my mind. Her energy is dominating my force field, and I can't have that. I need to breathe, to forget about her for at least a night.
The strip club is shrouded mostly in black. No one wants to see the light of day from in here. Good thing it's like three in the morning and none of us care.
There's tons of plush seating and a beautiful bar. Purple lights are inlaid along the walls and the ceiling.
But the stage is the main focus. And right now, two girls that I know as Bunny and Jade are dancing.
Their bodies are rock hard, but soft in all the right places. They've got perfect tits and perfect genes. I don't know what I'm complaining about, being in a place like this.
My buddies are laughing and clinking their glasses together. They're here to celebrate, to party, and to get some action. All of them reminiscing about the past and the good times.
But I've been running with this crew for a long time. And I guess you can say I'm tired of seeing the same old thing every time I go out.
Mostly, I'm tired of not seeing Jenna at the places where I am.
A strange feeling rises in my chest. I feel like she's supposed to be with me, at my side at all times.
I find myself wondering where she is when we're not together. A part of me wonders if she's okay. Is she protected?
Another part of me wonders what I'm gonna do if I won’t be able to make love to her soon and get rid of some of this energy. The mere thought of it is torment and it nearly drives me crazy.
The lust building inside me is so much that I'm almost willing to take it out on one of the strippers, but somewhere inside me, I feel like that would be a betrayal to Jenna. And I just can't do that.