Fuck, I was hard.
All that dancing and flirting had gone straight to my cock.
She opened her mouth, clashing her tongue against mine. Sucking and nibbling, taking me in with a desperate need to ravage. She tasted delicious. I couldn’t pull away. We were sweaty fast, panting hard against each other’s mouths as I slowly grinded into her pussy. She moaned so lightly, I almost didn’t hear it. With trembling fingers, she unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it down, exposing my chest to her.
“Take it off,” she eagerly said. “I want to see you.”
I pulled the shirt straight off and threw it to the ground. She pulled my face back to her mouth, kissing me as her hands ran down my back. I grabbed at her breast through her thin shirt and squeezed it before I trailed it back down to her ample ass.
Christ, this girl’s body was killer.
Her eyes fluttered shut in the darkness as I ground into her again. Her hands went up to my head. “Hurry, please,” she begged, her fingers pulling at my scalp.
“What do you want, kitten?”
“I want you inside me.”
My cock was painfully hard now. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes.”
I licked along her lips. “Beg, baby.”
“Please, fuck me.”
Man, I was done for. “Alright, kitten.”
“Please, hurry. I need to forget. Please.”
I paused. Forget what?
“Hurry, Cole.”
I cringed for a moment at the name she was calling me, briefly wishing it was my own. I dug into my pocket, all the while groaning at her tongue skimming my lips, tasting me with the same need I had for her.
Pulling out a condom, I tore it open with my teeth and hurriedly undid my pants. Freeing my cock, I sheathed it and rubbed it against her centre. My fingers shoved aside her panties, and brushed against her pussy. She was wet. Gloriously wet, and I moaned at the feeling, resting my forehead against hers.
“You’re an amazing kind of sexy, Krisa,” I told her.
She kept her eyes closed as I fingered her tight pussy, not even opening her mouth to groan at my movements. It was almost like she was distancing herself from this, and I didn’t like it.
“Open your eyes before I take you,” I demanded, somehow needing the connection just as much as she needed to escape it.
She was trying to forget something, and, well, so the fuck was I. My life was a mess. I drank like a fish. Partied every night. I had zero purpose, and I was growing tired of the monotony. Which contradicted every fucking thing I’d said earlier. Maybe moments like these stripped you bare and made you confront the truth.
I was a failure.
The only Brenner to fuck up his life.
So yeah, bring on forgetting.
“Open your eyes,” I repeated, softly.
She slowly opened them, and I saw the pleasure swirl in their depths.
Fuck yeah, this was what I wanted.
“Perfect,” I muttered right before I plunged inside of her. Her whole body clenched around me, squeezing me to her as her mouth opened in a gasp.
“Fuck yeah, kitten. You’re tight. Oh, fuck.”
I thrust in and out of her, uncaring of how loud I was. Anyone could pass by and see us, and they’d have an eyeful. Half-naked man; sexy girl with her skirt pulled up to her hips; breasts practically spilling out of her top; man moving in and out of her; girl running her hands down his back. They’d see everything, and I didn’t fucking care. I just needed her wet warmth. Needed her wrapped around my cock as I gave it to her hard. Her breaths came short and fast, hitting my face as I shoved myself as far inside of her as humanly possible.
“Keep looking at me,” I strained out, and she did. Her eyes were clouded with pleasure and… pain. It was disarming and yet… human. She held me to her like I was her shield, and the fucked up part of that was I wanted to be. I liked how tightly she was holding me. Like she needed me.
Nobody ever needed me.
Maybe it was the alcohol, but it my caused my chest to squeeze painfully as I continued to watch her fall apart. The pain took over every inch of her face, and I saw her eyes watering. I slowed down, alarmed by the look on her face.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded. “Please, don’t stop.”
I didn’t, but I didn’t fuck her hard like I planned. I took her slow, waiting for her orgasm to build deliciously. I kissed her between each thrust, grinding my hips into her, wanting to give her the friction she needed.
It was the first time I cared so much about pleasuring another girl.
Again, it was the alcohol’s fault.
And my depressing need to fill the void inside of me.
You’re not the only one who’s trying to forget. I wanted to tell her.
“It’s okay, baby,” I panted out. I didn’t know why I was saying that, but I knew she needed to hear it.
She stared at me, lost and dazed. Her lips parted and I kissed her again, this time softly, caressing her plump little lip with my tongue.
“It’s okay,” I repeated.
She opened her mouth again and finally cried out, her muscles clenching around my dick tight. The look of euphoria on her face was enough to tip me over the edge. I thrust harder inside of her, and then froze as my cock jerked and unloaded.
The pleasure was intense, coating me with its warmth in every corner of my being. It was incredible. It made my bones shudder. But it faded to black the second the ringing in my ears died down. She wasn’t holding me as strongly as before. Instead, her face looked void of emotion. Our seemingly passionate encounter had dissipated, as though forgotten already.
I realized very quickly that I hadn’t just used a girl for pleasure.
She had used me.
Another first.
Chapter Eight
Krisa
The next morning I woke up unusually early and had a long shower. Afterwards, I worked out the curls in my hair right before I tied it up. My hair actually shimmered under the light. Note to self: always steal a few squirts of Marie’s expensive shampoo!
Then I attempted make up, but I was ultra-careful to make it look as natural as possible. I hardly wore make up, and if Paul saw me this morning with some on, he’d be even more suspicious. I used a nice cover up that hid my unwanted freckles, and then added some pinkish blush to my cheeks. I desperately needed the colour.
I felt good. It’d been so long since I cared about my appearance. I shouldn’t have let myself go like that. I needed to reclaim some parts of me back. Not the bad parts, though. Just the ones that made me feel good on in the inside.
I successfully dodged Paul during breakfast and hurried out the door after giving Marie a kiss on the cheek. She glowed at that and I hoped she was as happy as I felt!
The twenty minute ride to Kale’s house was a sunshiny one. The warmth in the November air would only get worse as the day wore on, I knew, so I basked in its glory this morning. About five minutes away from the house I heard a buzz from my cell phone and flipped it open to read the text.
Hey Krisa, I’m occupied at the moment, but I have left the door open for you. Take a seat and wait for me when you get here. I’ll tell you what I need done after I’m finished.
Well, it was a no brainer who that was from. I quickly saved his number to my phone, giddy that I actually had it in my contacts list. My smile slowly disappeared as I recited the text in my head. He was occupied? And I had to wait until he was finished. The words “occupied” and “finished” made me think of that hot brunette he was occupied with the first time I saw him. Oh, man, was she his girlfriend? Oh, I’m such an idiot. Of course she was. A man that looked like him couldn’t be single.
Sinking in my seat a little, I sighed. That was expected. Silly of me to take that crush an extra mile without my brain’s permission. Well, it was a good kick up at the ass. I added her to my imaginary hit list, and not because she was Kale’s, but because she called me a bitch. Keep telling
yourself that, dumbass.
The gates were opened, and I spotted a Mercedes next to the Lamborghini of his out front. I got out and walked to the house, feeling the dread build bit by bit. I entered as quietly as possible and found a chair had been placed beside the stairwell. It hadn’t been there the last time, so I figured Kale put it there for me.
I took a seat on the chair and didn’t have a chance for another thought. Noises littered the top floor. Really loud noises. And not the noises I was expecting to hear, either. They were angry screams that made my pulse quicken.
“You seriously have another fucking thing coming if you think you can sit there and tell me how you’re going to manage my personal life! I swear to fucking God, you won’t forget this!” Kale was screaming his ass off, the rage so full in his voice it gave me chills. I couldn’t imagine being on the other side of that shit-storm.
“You’re so dramatic, Kale,” retorted a calmer voice that I immediately recognized. Sheryl. “I’m here because the family sent me. I’m trying to help you–”
“Stealing my fucking businesses is not helping me!”
“We’re not stealing, Kale. We want to manage them for you just for now.”
“Yeah, you’re so full of shit. That’s exactly what you said to Kyle, and look what happened to his club–”
“Oh, you’re still stuck on that? That was a completely different issue, separate from this situation. You’re going through some trouble, and we want to help you manage them–”
“So that you can send me away!” he roared, and the level of rage in his voice was only rising. “Don’t think that I don’t know about you plotting behind my back, about sending me off to some fucking therapist! What the fuck is a man behind a fucking degree gonna do?”
Oh my.
I let out a long exhale and wondered if I should leave. My mind told me to – no, it actually begged me to – but I sat there instead, like a wide eyed doll, unmoving. I wanted to hear this, and I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like me to eavesdrop, but he did tell me to come in and the level of noise they were producing was not something I could just avoid. Unless I put my hands over my ears, which would have been the honourable thing to do. I decided against honourable, though, and actually leaned toward the staircase to listen in better.
“Kale, be reasonable,” Sheryl said, and I idly admired her patience. “When you’re like this, you get overly paranoid–”
“You’re not going to fucking convince me of shit, so quit trying!”
“Have you been drinking?”
There was a moment’s pause, and then, “Are you serious right now? Is this why you’re here, really? To check in on me? If I was fucking drinking, would I still be standing right now? Use some brain cells, Sheryl.”
“Just calm down. We all care about you, we’re all trying to help you break your toxic habits that you’ve put yourself in–”
“Oh, yeah? What habits?”
“Do you really want me to go there right now, Kale?”
“Yeah, I want you to go there!”
“Really, now? Fine. Brian told me about those escorts you’re contacting. Wasn’t long ago with the last one, huh?”
“Oh, fuck me, here we go again. What I do, who I fuck, and where I find them, is none of anybody’s business! It’s called a personal life. You don’t see me attacking your last three failed marriages, do you?”
Ouch.
Another moment of silence.
“You know what, Kale, I’m done. I’ve tried. I’ve damn well tried and it’s impossible to get through to you. You want to be spiteful and senseless? Fine! I want no part of your impending crash. You’re a disaster!”
“Yeah, yeah, just go, Sheryl. Just go.”
I quickly turned my head away from the staircase when I heard the sound of heels clicking. I heard some sniffles and a light cry and then she appeared, viciously wiping away her tears. She startled when she saw me a foot away from her seated and still as a mannequin. I’m sure my face was the only lively thing about me, and it was screaming, holy shit!
“What are you doing here?” she asked me, and then she quickly shook her head. “No, I don’t want to know. Run very far away, young lady. And do it soon.”
Whoa.
Did she forget that she was the one that hired me? In fact, did she even remember me at all? I watched her, dressed in a top notch business outfit with her straightened red hair and diamond stud earrings, hurry to the front door. She left with a loud slam.
Before I had the chance to even digest this entirely bizarre situation, there he was, at the bottom of the stairs, looking down at me with the most bewildered look on his face. I may as well have been Santa Claus armed with a machete.
He stood in front of me, hands in the pockets of his jeans, and cleared his throat. One might think he was… embarrassed? It was awkward to say the least.
“I’m not sure how much you heard of that,” he started, and waited for me to respond. But I weakly smiled at him instead and hoped I didn’t have to answer.
Clearing his throat, he raked a hand through his hair and then down his face like he was exhausted by something. “My sister… She’s invasive. In fact, my whole family is. They’re like leeches, you know? Instead of blood, they suck the life out of you. They… bring out the worst in you. That was sibling rivalry, you know?”
I shrugged.
“You don’t have any siblings?”
“No.”
“Well, you know, siblings fight and bicker and say shit that’s…” He paused and a flicker of confusion crossed his face. Perhaps he was wondering why the heck he was telling me this. “Anyways…”
Anyways….what? I raised my eyebrows and waited. Waited for what felt like an eternity for something to be said. But he was just looking at me. Blue eyes fiercely staring into mine and it was like he was searching for something.
You know, if someone had watched this unfold, I’m sure they’d have been freaked the hell out by the strangeness of it all. They’d probably be wondering why the hell I was still seated there after everything I heard. Why didn’t I run far, far away?
Answer was simple: I don’t know.
“Anyways,” he started again quietly, “you’re here to clean, right?”
“Right,” I nodded. “As long as it’s not glass, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“What?”
The corners of his lips flickered in amusement, but he shook his head. “Nothing. Come on, I’ll uh… figure out what I want done.”
Figure out? What, did he not know?
He took me to his bedroom and then waved his hand to the clothes on the floor.
“Laundry,” he declared. “You can do that, right?”
“Sure. I don’t think it’ll take four hours, though,” I laughed lightly even though there was nothing remotely funny to laugh about.
“Why not?”
“Uh… because laundry is not really a big chore. Should only take me a little over an hour.”
I watched him think about this. Really, what could he possibly be thinking through? As he did, I let my eyes travel down his body. Goodness, he was big and it was all muscle. Another tight shirt today, this time it was a plain white tee and it hugged him so well I could make out the lines of his stomach and… Ah, I needed to stop acting like a freaking tween.
“Do you cook?” he asked.
“Like what?”
“It’s not a part of your job description, I’m sure, but I’m a little peckish. I’ve got some bacon and eggs in the fridge. Are you hungry?”
What the hell? “Uh…I guess.”
“You guess or you know?”
Always with the straight forward answers! “I know.”
“Then leave this shit for later and let’s cook some breakfast.”
Chapter Nine
Krisa
The pan sizzled and the smell of bacon wafted into my nostrils making my mouth water and my stomach rumble. But
despite the hunger I was feeling, I was still trying to figure out why the hell I was standing beside the counter in the kitchen, watching Kale Brenner flip the oil spattering bacon clumsily with tongs in his large, sexy hand. My mind went into overload.
I should be doing my job and admiring this man from afar. Instead, I have to walk in on him arguing with his sister about businesses, and escorts, and therapy, and escorts. And now it’s bacon I’ll be eating with this man I should be incredibly wary of. He clearly has an anger problem. And weird hobbies. Escorts, Krisa, escorts!
Yet in between his clumsy cooking, he would turn and look at me with those big blue eyes and I couldn’t move. I just stood there.
Before I knew it there were two plates on the island counter in the centre of the kitchen, and he beckoned me to him with a motion of his hand. He served the messy bacon and eggs onto each plate and waited for me to take a seat on one of the bar stools around the island.
I sat down as far away from where he stood and grabbed the plate.
“This smells great,” I said, smiling. “Thanks.”
“Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells.”
As he gave me my fork and knife, he slid his plate next to mine and took a seat. Right.Beside.Me.
The proximity had me looking fixedly on a burnt tip of a bacon strip on my plate. There was no way I could bring myself to look up at him. I wasn’t comfortable yet. Not when I was this close to him.
His shoulder brushed against mine, the hardness rubbing gently – and casually – against the softness of my own as he cut through his bacon and took a bite. I could smell him so clearly from where I sat. Of soap and a mild cologne that wasn’t invading to the nostrils at all. There was also another smell, a manly kind of scent that was all him.
I consciously brought the knife and fork together over a bacon strip and hacked my way into it. I say hacked because, well, the damn thing was so overcooked it was like taking a toothpick to a brick and expecting some kind of break.
