“Who’s this?” I asked.
“Casper,” she replied with a smile. “You like cats?”
I frowned, shaking my head as she pushed him back inside. “I actually can’t stand them.”
“What?!” she turned to face me, the expression on her face so offended it made me laugh out loud. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Didn’t realize it was a crime,” I grinned at her. “Seriously, they’re little dicks with cute faces. I don’t condone that.”
“You’re a di–” She blushed and shook her head. “Sorry. I love my cat.”
I took her by the elbow and led her to my car, shaking my head.
“What a nasty little mouth for such a pretty girl,” I told her, and her whole body tensed. Oh yes, she loved that dirty talk. I made a mental note of it for later.
I drove us a few miles into the city, and let the valet take my car as I walked her into the restaurant. Her eyes widened when she recognized it, just like I knew she would. It was one of the better known, most expensive places to eat in her city. I hadn’t been there in ages, and I loved coming along, so the owner greeted me with some surprise when he saw I’d brought a date. We were shown to our table, and I helped her sit down.
“What a gentleman,” she said with a small smile as I sat down opposite her.
“Always good to be one,” I replied with a smile, as the waiter passed us the menus. “Have you been here before?”
She shook her head, looking nervous. I waited for the waiter to leave before reaching across the table and laying my hand on hers.
“You nervous?” I asked her, and she gave me an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Just not… not my usual date, I guess.”
“More of a movie kind of girl?” I asked with raised eyebrows, and she laughed nervously.
“More of a… cheap kind of girl,” she admitted.
“You don’t look cheap to me,” I told her honestly. “In fact, you look so beautiful tonight I might have to forgo my gentlemanly ways.”
Her eyes went up to mine, shimmering from the candle on the table. She was excited about the idea, and it turned me right the fuck on. God, she was perfect.
I helped her order something I thought she would like, and the waiter brought out some wine for her as well. I wasn’t drinking since I had to drive all the way back home, but I loved seeing her taste my favorite red and make a little face which she desperately tried to hide.
“Not good?” I asked in shock. “I’m offended!”
“Please, no,” she giggled. “I just don’t know anything about wine. Honestly.”
“So this is payback for the cat situation, I see,” I grinned, and she giggled. “Bad little girl.”
Once again, I saw her visibly tense up when I uttered the words, and I enjoyed every second of it. She looked so perfect when she was flushed like that.
“Do you mind if I go to the ladies’ room before we get our food?” she asked, and I shook my head, motioning for her to go.
She got up, and when she left, I caught a glimpse of the back of her thighs as her sinful little dress moved. It got me so fucking hard I couldn’t help but pull out my phone and go on the website where I’d found her.
I shot her a message, doubting she’d be checking for it in the bathroom, but hoping she would nonetheless. It was time for me to have some fun.
Where are you?
Her reply came a moment later, and I grinned to myself, knowing how desperate my little whore was to be played with.
In the bathroom of a restaurant.
You’re going to play for me.
I can’t now!
Do as I say, doll. Send me a picture. Are you alone?
Yes…
The message was accompanied by a picture from the ladies’ room which I’d never seen before. It was a proper room decorated in boudoir style complete with a vanity for the ladies to freshen up. She sat at the vanity, and she’d sent me a picture of her pretty self in the mirror, facing her phone towards it.
Good fucking girl. Spread those whore legs for me.
Another picture. Following my instructions. She wore black sheer panties that drove me wild. I had to conceal my erection under the table when I saw it. The whole thing was getting fucking embarrassing.
Push your panties aside. Show me my cunt.
A minute passed before she replied, and when my phone vibrated, I was almost too scared to look at it.
But there it was, her perfect, shaved little pussy. So fucking pink it looked like it was flushed. I groaned out loud, and covered it up with a cough.
Please… Let me play.
Her reply came when I realized I forgot to send something back, and I typed a message for her in seconds, I was so eager.
Make my cunt come. Be quick about it. Efficient. I don’t want you wasting time. You have one minute, then send me a picture of that used little pussy.
I waited, accepted a refill from the waiter and some curious gazes from other guests, probably wondering if I’d been stood up. Not a minute later, my phone got another message, and I looked down to see her pussy so fucking puffy it made me want to storm down the hall and fuck her right in that fucking stall. What a dirty little girl.
I didn’t have time to reply, because she strolled back to the table without a worry in the world, her pretty cheeks flushed a gorgeous shade of pink, matching that sweet cunt I’d just been staring at.
“Welcome back,” I said pleasantly, putting my phone away.
“So sorry,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I think my lock got jammed, I had to try a couple of times to get out.”
I gave her a knowing look, and she looked away, obviously embarrassed. I loved seeing her blush like that, it fucking suited her.
The waiter brought us our food a moment later, and we tucked in. It was as delicious as ever, and I loved seeing her gush about how much she loved what I’d suggested she ordered. She looked beautiful even with her mouth full… A promising thing for what I intended to do to her eventually.
We spent the evening chatting about things very different to what we spoke about online. She might have been a little whore on the phone, but in person she was very shy, almost painfully so. She seemed nervous in my presence, which I didn’t completely understand, but it felt like I was intimidating her. I kind of liked it.
I made her split a dessert with me, and loved seeing her lick the blackberry sauce off my spoon. She looked right at me when she did it too, like a proper little slut. I almost felt proud of her.
Once we were done, she wanted to pay half of the bill, but I didn’t even acknowledge it. I paid the waiter and left a handsome tip, and she stared at me from across the table.
“Thank you,” she said in a clipped tone.
“You’re welcome.” My gaze flitted to her. “Something wrong, Cleo?”
“You know I could have paid for myself,” she said pointedly.
“You could have,” I said calmly. “But I wanted to treat my girl. Got it?”
She stared at me as I helped her get up and led her outside. We were waiting for the valet to bring my car, and the whole street was deserted. She looked embarrassed and still flushed from what had happened in that bathroom and suddenly, I didn’t give a shit about anything anymore. I was done resisting her.
I pressed her lithe body against the wall of the restaurant and she gasped when her back met the rough brickwork.
“What are you…” she whispered, but my mouth shut her up.
I kissed her like I owned her, because that was exactly what I was planning on doing.
My hand wandered between her shaky legs, slapping them apart roughly and playing with my pussy. Oh yes, because it was mine already, even if she didn’t know it just yet. Perfect little slut.
I pushed those panties aside as I kissed her and she mewled helplessly against my lips. My fingers outlined the shape of her pussy, and I forced two of them inside her, quickly, just because I n
eeded to know what her cunt felt like. She moaned so loudly against my lips I had to bite her tongue to shut her up.
I heard an approaching car, pulling my fingers out of her pussy with a loud pop and moving my mouth away. She gasped as I brought my fingers up, and looked into my eyes before her tongue darted between her lips and she licked me clean. I thought I was going to spill in my pants at the sight of that.
“I’m getting you a cab,” I told her roughly. “I need to go home.”
“W-what?” she stared at me incredulously as I instructed the valet to get a cab. “But why?”
“I have some work to do,” I told her with a smile. “But this was lovely, beautiful Cleo.”
She glared at me, and kept glaring as the taxi pulled up and I sat her down in it, giving the driver her address.
“To be continued,” I told her, and shut the door of the taxi.
I drove home in a mad fucking rush, and came all over my fist two minutes after walking through my front door.
CHAPTER 7
Cleo
4 days later
I couldn’t get that date out of my mind.
I kept thinking about him, Mr. Masters.
The way he’d just pushed me against that wall, not giving a shit if anyone saw what he was doing to me. The way my body reacted to his touch, how helpless I was as soon as he got his strong hands on me, and inside me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. His tongue in my mouth. His teeth biting down on my bottom lip and his body pressing up against mine. It was addicting, just thinking about it.
It was also absolutely freaking awful, because Mr. Masters hadn’t been in touch in over three days.
It was driving me crazy. The way he did that to me, then sent me home in a cab as if I didn’t even matter… And now, to ignore me like this? It felt like the worst kind of betrayal, probably because I was so into him already.
I craved so much more. His hands exploring my body, his fingers pushing inside me once again. I craved his dirty touch and the way he slipped and told me something not-at-all-gentlemanly then grinned as if it was nothing. I wanted him. I wanted what he had given me, only a brief glimpse that night, but making me want so much more from him.
And yet he didn’t call.
Or text.
Or show up at work, or the supermarket.
He was an enigma, even though I did my very best to research him.
A simple search online showed me everything I needed to know about Flynn Masters. He was an important man, the owner of an up-and-coming software company in a city about thirty minutes away by car. He’d been featured in several local newspapers as well as tabloids, and I stared with envy at the women on his arm in those pictures. They looked nothing like me.
They were all expensive clothes, handbags that cost more than I could save up in a year, hair blown out to perfection. There was no way I could compare, and I was sure he’d figured out the very same thing, which was why he suddenly dropped off the face of the earth. I tried to ignore the pain and pretend it didn’t hurt me, even though it was getting increasingly hard to do it.
But instead of obsessing about Mr. Perfect, I focused on Mr. Mysterious instead.
I spent hours upon hours talking to him, listening to his delicious voice instructing me on what he wanted me to do for him. He’d given me more orgasms than I could have counted, and every time I came home from work, I loved logging on to see him online, waiting to make me come. It seemed as if he was as addicted to these playing sessions as I was, and I finally found someone with an appetite for lust as insatiable as mine.
And I loved it.
My favorite wasn’t when he let me come, however. My favorite was hearing him lose himself in my moans, grunting because he couldn’t hold back, and spilling his cum all over his fist. I loved him coming for me like that, because I knew I was the reason he’d just emptied his balls all over his shaky fingers. It was the best feeling in the world, and I couldn’t get enough of it.
I lived to hear him burst. I lived for the sounds he made, his voice rough and needy when he told me not to stop, to keep my fingers in his cunt and keep working myself for him. It was the best, dirtiest fantasy playing out live just for me, and I couldn’t fucking get enough.
I was talking to him again that day, and I heard him getting close for me. His slow grunts, the way his orders got sharper and more outrageous the more turned on he got. The hours I could steal away with him, come with him, were my favorite part of my day. I found myself fantasizing about him, afraid to even look at the only picture he’d ever sent me again, so worried I would fall head over heels for this man who I’d never even met in person.
I was, in one word, addicted.
And I didn’t give a shit.
“Pinch your nipple,” he grunted. “Thumb and index finger, right the fuck now. Pull out and count to ten, little doll.”
I gasped for him and he groaned at the sound.
“Good fucking girl,” he said, and I felt myself getting so close from the pain, skirting the edge of pleasure, dancing on the precipice and waiting for his order to push me over into the beautiful abyss.
Which is precisely the moment Casper chose to jump up on my desk and purr louder than ever. I gasped in surprise and let go of my nipple, looking guiltily into the camera.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “I’m sorry…”
He laughed out loud.
“It’s okay, doll,” he said in his low, seductive voice. “Tell Casper I said hi.”
“I will,” I replied, but then something struck out to me. “Wait… I never told you his name.”
There was a short silence on the other end of the line, and I furrowed my brows, waiting for him to explain.
“Sure you did,” he said easily. “You’ve mentioned it a few times, actually.”
“I haven’t,” I insisted. “I never told you. How do you know that?”
I felt cold dread sinking into my stomach, and for an awful moment, I was honestly so scared of him I wanted to delete everything that had happened between us from memory. I wanted him gone. Wanted him to leave me alone and forget anything ever happened between us. I wanted all of this to be over.
“I’m sorry, doll,” he said slowly. “I…”
His sentence trailed off into nothing just as I realized what was actually going on.
How he’d been playing me from the start. How he’d pretended to be two people, when it was really one person all along.
“You’re the guy,” I whispered. “The creepy guy who showed up at my house.”
“What?” he asked incredulously. “No, wait, Cleo, please.”
“Fuck off,” I snarled, covering up my tits from the camera. I rushed to my computer to end the call while he tried to explain, trying to block out every word he was saying.
Shit, shit, shit. This couldn’t be happening. I hadn’t just fallen for his lies, please, no…
I cut the call and sat there in nothing but a pair of lacy red panties. I felt devoid of all emotions for a little bit before the pure, unadulterated anger took over. He was a jackass, a dangerous jackass, most likely, and I was sure he was going to try and make contact again, even though I’d hurt his pride. I was so fucking pissed off, and at the same time, so scared for myself. I’d let this guy find out everything about me… I’d let him dangerously close without even realizing it.
And now, he could really fucking hurt me. He might do it soon, too.
I held back a sob as I jumped up from the bed, rummaging in my closet to find a silk robe I wore on lazy summer mornings. I wrapped it around my body and paced downstairs, putting a cup of tea on. Thank fuck it was the middle of the day. Surely he wasn’t brave enough to show up at my house while it was light outside, and hurt me while anyone could hear?
I needed to make plans for the night. I was too scared to be in the house alone, but I had no one to call.
My eyes watered with fear and anger. I was so hurt he’d done this to me. Deceived me, when I was really starting
to fall for him. He was an absolute creep, and if I had to get a restraining order against him, I was perfectly willing to do it. Anything to keep him away from me, keep him as far away as fucking possible.
I made myself the cup of tea I so desperately needed, and carried it over to the living room. I curled up on the couch and tucked my feet beneath my ass, while Casper came to sit on my lap. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, and kept pushing his little face against mine, desperate for a few kisses. I drank my tea slowly and cuddled him, trying to decide how I was going to get out of this whole mess. It was going to end badly, I just knew it.
It seemed like only a few minutes had passed when my doorbell rang. The second it did, I froze in absolute fear, terrified of who was at the door.
“Who is it?” I called out, my nerves getting the better of me as I stood up and Casper jumped off my lap. My hand lingered on the front door’s handle. I was terrified.
“Flynn,” he called out, and I slowly stopped tensing up.
I only remembered what I was wearing when I opened the front door to him.
He stood before me in a visibly expensive suit and shirt, staring me up and down. I covered up my body self-consciously, wrapping the silk robe tighter around my body.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him coolly, feeling the breeze of the day ruffling the bottom of my robe. I hoped he couldn’t see anything, but just in case, I stepped behind the door and covered myself up more. I wasn’t about to ask him in, either. Last time I saw him, he’d blown me off completely. “I’m not letting you in, if that’s why you came.”
“Cleo,” he said desperately. I’d never seen him look like that. Even his hair was a little disheveled. “I… I had to come after what happened.”
“How do you know what happened?” I asked him, and stared him down.
“Don’t…” He ran a hand through his hair, which I’d only seen slicked back so far. I kind of liked the messy look… and truth be told, he looked good enough to eat. Not that I would ever admit that to him… Or myself.
“Please,” he went on. “Just let me in, let’s talk. Please, doll.”
Drawn to Him: A Romance Collection Page 35
