Hard Cover

by Jamie K. Schmidt

  He locked the doors and gave me a wicked smile. “Which part?”

  “All of it.”

  “I’ll let you choose what we eat—everyone around here delivers and I’ll go down on you until they get there.”

  My mouth dropped open. What happened to Mr. straitlaced hometown boy?

  “I might even let you come.”

  And it was smack talk like that that kept me coming back. “Is that right?” I fastened my seatbelt and turned toward him. “Ever gotten a blow job while driving?”

  “Don’t,” he warned. “I will crack the car up.”

  I toyed with the button on his slacks. I wasn't quite sure how I went from "Let's keep this all professional" to "Fuck it, let's party." But I wasn't complaining. You had to take the good times when they came, otherwise you'd be left just waiting for the perfect moment. And if he was willing to stop strong-arming me into selling out to him, I didn't see any reason why we couldn't be fuck buddies.

  “How about a hand job?”

  He didn’t stop me from taking his cock out of his pants.

  “You’re so nice and thick.” I stroked him slow.

  “You do not know how much I need this right now,” he groaned.

  I had a slight idea, because I needed it too. And need was such a scary word. I preferred want. Want was easy. You fed the beast. When it was satiated, you moved on without a second thought. Like Jack and the band. Need spoke of permanence, and I had never had that luxury. “This is a lot more fun than going around in circles about a stupid lease.”

  “I’ll get back to that eventually.”

  “I think I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” Maybe I wouldn’t need to blackmail him after all. If he wasn’t going to be a dick, there was no reason I needed to play hardball. Not when I’d rather play with his balls. I stuck my hand further into his pants to fondle them.

  He let out a soft moan that curled my toes and made me throb. “I can’t wait to taste you,” Rory growled.

  Rubbing my finger over the head of his cock, I caught a drop and brought it up to my lips. “Mmmm, what should I order for lunch?”

  “What’s going to take the longest?”

  “I think we should get lobster rolls.”

  “That will take five minutes,” he said, outraged.

  “Don’t think you’re done just because lunch was delivered.”

  “Tell me about that chain I could tug on again. I could listen to that all day.”

  I set up a slow stroking pace and pitched my voice low and sultry. “It’s a custom-made rig. Padded nipple clamps connected on a Y chain that ends in another clamp that gets put on my clit.”

  “Doesn’t that hurt?” he breathed raggedly.

  “Oh yeah. It hurts so good at first. Then it’s all pleasure. I’d make you lie flat on your back and then straddle your cock. Once you were deep inside me, I’d give you the chain. Pull it gently and I’ll ride you like a horse. Pull harder and I’ll fuck you like a tiger.”

  His cock jerked and I quickly took my hand away.

  “You almost made me come in my pants,” he said, breathing harshly.

  “If my mouth was around it, you could have come in my mouth.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “What about cracking the car up?”

  He pulled into a parking lot of a strip mall. We were far enough away from most cars that we shouldn’t be caught. But then again, it was lunchtime and it was a busy place. Excitement filled me at the sheer joy of being naughty. It had been a long time since I got to play. Clicking off the seatbelt, I dove onto his cock. Taking him deep into my mouth, I sucked hard. He lifted up my skirt.

  “What pretty panties you have.” Rory stuck his finger under my thong and tickled me. “I’m going to rip these off too.”

  He did.

  Of course I was soaked, and I groaned when he brushed my clit.

  “You’ve got a great ass.” He trailed his finger up until he touched me there.

  I moaned.

  “You seem kinky. Can I spank you?” He swatted me hard enough to sting, but not hard enough that I grazed my teeth against his cock. I growled a warning, even though it made me hotter than hell. I didn’t want to give him more control over me than he already had.

  “No?” he said. “Well, maybe when I know you better and you’ll let me fuck your face.” He grabbed my hair and pulled up so I’d look at him. “You look so beautiful with your ass in the air, sucking my cock.”

  I purred and deep-throated him. His head slammed back against the headrest and he drove his fingers inside my pussy. Matching my rhythm, he fingered me. I clamped my thighs shut to increase the friction and ground my face into his lap.

  “Yeah, so fucking hot.” Slipping his fingers out, he went right for my clit and I shrieked around his cock as I came. He followed almost immediately, spurting down my throat with a ragged stream of obscenities.

  I kissed my way up his body and he fingered me to another orgasm while we made out in the parking lot. A few cars might have beeped at us, but I didn't care. It's not like the top was down on the convertible, and we were both fully dressed. They should mind their own business.

  "You make me crazy," he breathed, flicking his fingers faster.

  The feeling was mutual, but I wasn't going to tell him that. I screamed my release in his mouth and moaned his name when he pulled away to kiss the tip of my nose.

  “Call Millie and tell her you’re not going to be there for the rest of the day.”

  Easing back into the passenger seat, I pulled down my skirt. Looking in the mirror on the sun visor, I finger combed my messy hair. I was panting like I had just ran a race. My eyes were bright and shining, and I had a really stupid grin on my face.

  Get a grip.

  “Is that your plan, keeping me as a sex slave until my business goes under?”

  He licked his fingers in enjoyment. “It hadn’t been. But now that you mention it, that’s the best idea I’ve heard of all day.”

  “Not going to work. I’m onto your tricks.”

  “Not all of them.” Rory grinned and drove the car out of the parking lot.

  As we pulled into the marina, I was impressed. The Clinton yacht club put Haven’s to shame. There was valet parking and everything. I let Rory open my door, and I walked on his arm down the boardwalk as if we were at an Oscar party instead of a prettied-up version of the local dock area.

  “You see, what they’re missing here is shops to cater to the tourists.”

  “You don’t stop, do you?” I said. “They’ve got all they need. There’s an ice cream parlor and a bait shop. What more do you need?”

  “A sundries spot for suntan lotion and sunglasses.” Rory slung his arm around my waist.

  “Designer, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  We wound up grabbing the lobster dogs, fresh lobster meat in hot buttered hot dog bun, from a food truck, and devoured them in the picnic area.

  “What we really need is a tattoo shop.”

  Rory rolled his eyes. “Because that’s the type of clientele I’m looking to cultivate.”

  “Tattoos cost a lot of money. I was looking to get a sleeve, but it would’ve run me about twenty-five hundred. Take that seven-hundred-dollar titty blouse.”

  “It’s not about the money.”

  “Bull. Shit,” I said, enunciating each word.

  “Tattoos scare people.”

  “Good. Do I scare you?” I sent him a smoldering look.

  “Scared, no? Turned on? Hell yeah.”

  “Ever think about getting inked?”

  “I don’t want to scare people.” He smirked.

  “Believe me.” I looked him up and down. “You don’t.”

  He puffed up a little at that, narrowed his eyes like he was fierce. I would have laughed at him, but my mouth was full.

  “What kind of tattoo do you think I should get? Don’t say tribal.”

  “I wasn’t. Because the only tribe you
’d fit in would be the Calvin Klein tribe, and having CKs tattooed all around your arm wouldn’t work.”

  “Then what?”

  I shrugged. “It’s personal. They have to mean something to you. Otherwise you’re just a poser.”

  “What kind of tattoo were you looking for? Or don’t I know you well enough yet?”

  “It’s personal.”

  He leaned forward. “So is oral sex, and we’ve passed that intimacy.”

  “It’s more intimate than that.”

  Rory’s eyes filled with that determined heat again. “I’ll get your secrets out of you.”

  “Why would you want to?” I said it casually, masking the importance of the question.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  I chased my bun around the pooled butter and didn’t answer him. “You obviously like the ocean. Maybe get a wave or a boat so you’re never far from it.”

  “I’m never far from it as it is.”

  “Among other things, I was thinking of getting To Thine Own Self Be True written on the inside of my forearm.” I surprised myself by blurting that out.

  “You don’t strike me as the type of girl who forgets that.” Rory took my hand and trailed his fingers up my arm.

  I pulled my hand away. “You’d be surprised.”

  “What else would you get? An arm sleeve is a lot of ink.”

  “We’re not talking about this right now,” I said, and gave him a tight smile. He didn't really care. He was just trying to get into my head, and I was not going to allow that. He could get into my pants as much as he wanted. Rory Parker was hot as hell and I was horny. But if he was going to try to Eliza Doolittle me, he had another thing coming.

  “Okay, french fries?”

  It took me a few seconds for the abrupt change of subject. “And a hot fudge sundae.”

  "You drive a hard bargain."

  "Get used to it," I said, licking my lips.

  Rory got up and went to get them. I traced the tattoos and wondered if Rory would ever dump me to go off boating with his friends for the summer. Dump me? What was I saying? I needed to get this under control. Rory was a pleasant distraction, but he couldn’t get any closer until I had an apartment to call my own. Otherwise all of this dancing around was for nothing, and I’d not only be out a quarter of a million dollars, I’d be homeless and up to my ears in debt.

  When he came back, I stole a french fry and smiled. “You’re going to have to stop ripping off all of my underwear. I’m getting a breeze.”

  Grinning back at me, he tried to grab my knee under the table. “Let me help you keep warm.”

  “That’s what you could build here alongside the ice cream stand. A Victoria’s Secret.”

  “Too ordinary. I’d bring in a Parisian lingerie maker. I’d put it right there, in the west, to catch the sunset.” He kissed his fingers. “Ah, romance.”

  I stole another fry and dipped it into my hot fudge.

  “That’s really disgusting,” he said.

  “No, disgusting is if I shoved them up my nose.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “So where would you put your new shop? Next to the panties?” Rory waggled his eyebrows at me.

  “Not inside a country club, that’s for damn sure. Besides, the only shops that would do well out here are the food and touristy tchotchkes. You don’t have the town center here like Haven has.”

  “What if there were shops like yours? Edgy? You wouldn't be too far away from your clients. Just two towns over. You’d have a new shop built to my exacting standards. You’d still be on the waterfront. And I’ll still give you the quarter of a million.”

  “If I’m out by Monday.” I wiped my mouth on the napkin and stuffed it into the empty ice cream cup.

  “That was the deal.”

  “When are you breaking ground for the new shops here?” I asked.

  “I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

  “How far have you gotten?”

  He pointed to him and me. “Just this, so far.”

  “No deal.” We got up to throw our trash away. Rory put his arm around me again. It was nice to have some human cuddling. No-name the cat was all right, but sometimes I just needed a strong arm and a wide chest to hold on to.

  “What if I could give you a date when I would break ground on the project?” We walked down one of the docks. He opened up a gate and had me go first down a wobbly ramp to where some huge boats were tied up.

  “You’re really fucking confident you could get the marina to let you build a line of shops inside here.”

  “They’ll see what I’m doing in Haven and be crawling all over me to lead the project.”

  “Wouldn’t I still be odd man out?”

  “I haven’t come up with a store concept yet. I’m sure with a few adjustments we can fit you in.”

  “So conceivably, I could share a block of stores including a tattoo and piercing parlor, a titty bar, and a head shop?”

  “I don’t think that will fly,” he admitted. “But all this talk about titties makes me dying to get you out of your clothes. This is my yacht.”

  We were stopped in front of an enormous boat.

  “Seven hundred fifty feet, twin diesel engines. All teak deck, state-of-the-art equipment.”

  Here I was homeless and he had a recreational vehicle that was bigger than my last three apartments. “Did you have to practice in the mirror saying that with a straight face?”

  “What? Titties? No, I’m a big fan.”

  “No, idiot. I’m Elmer J. Fudd, millionaire. I own a mansion and a yacht.” I pointed at the behemoth in front of me.

  “Billionaire,” he said, and climbed on board.

  I rolled my eyes at his correction. “Sure it’s not zillionaire?”

  “Not yet.” Rory grinned back at me.

  Chapter 6

  Dawn

  “Do you live on this?” I asked. Because if he didn’t, I know where I was going to be sleeping from here on in. The security in this place might be tight, but it wouldn’t be the first time I snuck into places I shouldn’t be.

  “Just for this summer. I’m based out of Miami and have an office in Manhattan. I've got a private plane for emergencies, but I'd rather take the boat.”

  I curbed the impulse to roll my eyes at Mr. Private Plane. Maybe I could sleep there instead. “How long does it take to get down to Florida from here on this thing?”

  “Sell me your shop and we can cruise down there. If we take my sailboat, about two weeks. If we take this baby, about a week, with stops for gas and sleep.”

  “You’ve got two boats?” I couldn’t even afford one apartment. No wonder he was throwing money around like it was candy. Maybe I should have gone into real estate.

  “That one’s docked in Montauk.” Rory offered me a hand to help me into the boat. It was an uncomfortable reminder just how far out of my league he really was. I reluctantly allowed him to help me step up on the deck, if only so I didn't flash my bare ass to the rest of the dock when the wind kicked my skirt up.

  “Must be nice to be able to drop everything and sail away on the tide.” The yacht was everything he said it was: pristine, huge, and elegant. I didn't feel the least bit comfortable here.

  “You can have firsthand knowledge of that. I’ll even pay for the moving van and professional packers to get you out by tomorrow night.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t quit, do you?”

  “It’s all about not being afraid to ask for what you want. I just haven’t found your sweet spot yet.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. You were doing okay in the car.” I followed him below deck to a chic living room. Collapsing on the couch, I waved off the offer of wine for a bottle of sparkling water.

  “Here’s what I can’t understand,” he said. “Explain to me your history with the town of Haven and why you’re so attached to it.”

  “I thought you wanted me to take my shirt off.”

  “You can’t do both?�
�

  Standing up, I tossed my shirt and bra over my head and kicked off my skirt. I was sick of talking. I wanted sex and then to go back to work.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said.

  I helped him out of his jacket and shirt. “Even when I’m not sucking your cock?”

  “Yeah.” Rory stepped out of his khakis and held me close to him. “You make me fucking crazy. I’ve been wanting to bend you over a counter since your first email. And I’ve been wanting to spank your ass red every moment since.”

  I quivered against him. If I trusted him, then maybe. But not yet. “I have to admit, I was surprised at the sparks between us.”

  “Sparks?” He barked a laugh. “Honey, we’re TNT.”

  Leaning in to him, I drew him down for a kiss. “I’m not leaving before my lease is up. But if you’re looking for a summer fling, I’m willing to satisfy a few urges with you.”

  Rory kissed me, his hands sliding down my back to my ass. Squeezing my ass cheeks, he brought me hard against his body. “Do I get to tug on your chain and force your head down on my cock?”

  “It’s a good possibility I’ll allow that. If you stop trying to get me out of my store.”

  He made a deep satisfied sound that was a cross between a purr and a growl. “I’m not going to stop trying, you know.”

  “As long as you play fair, I’ll play fair. If you want to play dirty, you’re not going to like the consequences.”

  “Why would I play dirty?” He kissed my neck and I writhed on his body, loving the sensations he was evoking. It was decadent to stand on the billionaire douche bag’s yacht, totally naked. I’m sure once the novelty wore off we’d be back at each other’s throats. And if I was honest, he wasn’t a douche bag, even though he still pissed me off every now and then. But for right now, this was nice. I deserved a little luxury, and Rory looked damn good naked, all hard, lean muscle and smooth skin. I wanted to lick every inch of him and then roll over and have him return the favor.

  “I’m onto your tricks. You think you were smart sending that mark into my store to accuse me of selling drugs? See how that bit you on the ass?”

  “What?” Rory pulled back and frowned down at me.