by Adair Rymer
“How'd you find me?” This place was way to big to just stumble across someone.
“When I saw you leave, I had the staff keep an eye out for you.” Maynard had one of the startled waitstaff call for the security guards and a few minutes later three men ran over and got Chance to his feet. “When I heard you were talking to some prick demanding mixed drinks in the back hall, I figured I should check it out.”
“Did you get jealous?” I couldn't stop the smile from creeping across my lips.
Maynard licked his teeth and put an arm around my shoulders. I didn't move to stop him. “Yes.”
The blatant admission made my ribs quiver. I looked away as he led me back to the party, so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing my smile eat half my face.
What did it say about him that he came after me when he thought I might be in trouble? Was he just returning the favor of me going to him at the balcony or was it something more?
“Maynard, your hand!” It was only when I felt something wet through my shirt that I realized he was bleeding. He quickly pulled the hand away, but little red dots had already ruined my white shirt. “Do you you have an EMT here?”
Maynard looked at it, but didn't seem to concerned. “It's just a scratch. I have a first aid kit upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” The word slipped from my mouth like smoke. In his home? Was this his invitation? Would I get that tour he teased about earlier?
Maynard looked through me with those thunderstorm eyes. His smile was beckoning. “Come with me.”
Chapter 8
Claire
Maynard's apartment was spacious, and lavishly decorated, but it had a sense of vacant loneliness to it. I had expected the same flashiness as the party below us. For some reason, I thought Maynard would be an eccentric collector, with life-sized jade sculptures and pedestal exhibits.
I was so wrong. The dark-colored throw rugs and curtains gave the place a solemn silence, that wouldn't be out of place in a Tibetan monastery. Maybe it was just the rooms I saw on the way to his master bathroom, but I hoped his whole floor wasn't like this.
Maynard's home looked very private.
“Is that— Are those real?” I paused in the doorway of his office. The lights had turned on automatically as we walked through each room, with the exception of the office. The working area, his desk and computer, was lit by soft ambient lighting, but the back half remained in darkness.
Or it would have been, had there not been a giant glass fish tank lining the entire wall. The hidden blue lights and mirror behind it, gave the whole room an underwater feel.
“The jellyfish are real,” Maynard cocked his head toward the tank, encouraging me to take a closer look. His hand was wrapped in a dishtowel that had bled through. “I'll be right back.”
There must have been twenty jellyfish in there. Crouching down, my hand carelessly reached toward the glass, but I caught myself before I left any fingerprints. Their blue-purple cups would fill with water, then would constrict and gently drift, while long, thin tendrils trailed behind. Watching their near-translucent forms pulse was hypnotizing, and a calmness set over me.
“Beautiful, aren't they?” Maynard's deep voice broke the jellyfish hold on me. How long had I been gazing at them? I looked up at his strong figure through the mirror's blue tinted reflection. His hand was bandaged, but his vest was gone now and I still wore his jacket. All that left him with was his white shirt and black pants.
After he spoke I no longer noticed the jellyfish; Maynard's steamy image was slowly burning itself onto my eyeballs. I got up to face him not realizing how close he was standing behind me. I was nearly sandwiched between him and the glass. Our bodies were so close that the pleated fabric of my skirt grazed against his pants.
He caught my eyes flick down to the exposed ink from his chest piece tattoo. The top of an extensive tribal design was visible through the unbuttoned neck of his shirt.
“You want a closer look?” Maynard deftly popped four buttons open, allowing me to see more of the intricate, black design. “Touch it.”
“What is it?” My hand was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. I ran a finger down his hard chest, peeling back the fabric. What was I doing?
This! A part of me roared, this is exactly what you said you wouldn't do!
Maynard Cooper was supposed to be a naughty mistake that I remembered fondly, but never, ever made again. Was I afraid that he was just another Chance? Someone to use me up and throw me away? I didn't want to be another notch on some jerk's bedpost.
My other hand pulled the shirt off of one of his shoulders, revealing his nipple and sculpted bicep. My heart thumped quicker, egging my fingers on as they traced the deep grooves of his muscles.
“Nothing,” he said smoothly. “Organized chaos. The individual line work is complex, but the pattern as a whole is simple.” The touch of his hand shocked me as it crested my lower back. Knowing he felt my sharp inhale made me blush. He leaned in and smelled my neck. The motion rioted my skin into a million pinpricks.
What was I so afraid of? In the short time I'd known Maynard I'd seen the hints of a transformation. It was easy to write him off as just another rich asshole, but that wasn't right. He wasn't that person, or maybe deep down he never was. Maybe there was always a good man buried behind that selfish, arrogant mask and he just needed help bringing it out.
The unworthiness that Chance put into me flared to life. It was still hard to believe that I was even here. Who was I to party with gods? Then to ascend even higher with Maynard...
Maynard swept me into him. Our bodies pressed together. His leg was tightly positioned between mine, the heat of his growing cock threatened to light our clothes on fire as it pushed into my pussy.
“You asked what my third rule was.” His lips brushed against mine as he uttered the words.
“And you were too mysterious to tell me.” My response was breathy. I was too turned on to play coy. I wanted him.
“Never bring girls home.” Maynard kissed me with the abandon of a man who was breaking all his own rules. Sharp thrills zapped through me and I finally understood why he got so strange in the elevator. The realization stopped my breathing for a moment.
My God, this wasn't just another hook up. This really was special.
My leg bent and raised with the growing intensity of his kiss. I let his strength hold me up. His angle forward was one that couldn't get enough of. It pressed my shoulders into the glass behind me. The tank's chill tightened the muscles in my core. I used that to grind against him even more.
Everything felt so laid bare, so honest. I tore his shirt off, all my hesitance, all my insecurity, all of it was gone. This time I wanted all of him, everything that he could give me. I didn't know what would happen after this but I didn't care.
Tonight he wouldn't be a mistake.
Suddenly he pulled away. Maynard's chest rose and fell in great heaves, his eyes narrowed. Something was wrong.
“What is it?” My forehead crinkled in worry. Had I done something to upset him?
“Twelve-O-five. It's Christmas.” The way he said that was incredibly leading. I smiled looking around for mistletoe, but there wasn't any. A wicked smile flashed across his perfect teeth. “Time to unwrap my present.”
Unwrap his present? The thought barely had time to process, before I felt his hands on the collar of my white blouse. Elegant black buttons exploded in every direction.
“Fuck!” I cried, smiling deeply.
Maynard didn't notice my shock, he just crouched to one knee and flexed his massive muscles for a second time. The watery-blue tinted tattoos on his arms and chest seemed to roar with exertion. The buttons all down my long, black skirt shot outward, and with nothing to keep it in place, the destroyed pleated fabric fell away.
The air rushed against my suddenly bare thighs, and licked up the front of my soaked panties. I had never worn an outfit that cost more than a thousand dollars and to have it literally torn from my body
was almost indescribable. I don't think I’d ever been wetter in my life.
“Santa got me exactly what I wanted this year.” Maynard looked me over. The blouse hung limply open and the skirt was gone. All that was left was my bra, panties and the black fabric belt, which was even designed to be worn as a bow. “Not bad, for such a naughty boy.”
I could've laughed. I looked gift-wrapped, like a car in those commercials.
“You're not done yet.” I unclasped my bra, sexily rolling my shoulders, taking a little of the power back for myself.
“No, I'm not.” Maynard's devilish smile had melted into a mischievous grin as he reached for my bow. It unraveled and fell away with an easy tug. I leaned forward but he put a palm on my stomach and pushed me back into the cold tank. All the muscles in my core contracted as I sucked in a burst of air. The destroyed blouse did little to cut the chill of the glass.
“There's still a part of you I haven't tried.” He fell to his knees before me and this time I didn't stop him. Chance never went down on me so I got nervous when Maynard wanted to last time. There was nothing wrong with me, I decided. I had to let go of those old insecurities and let the moment consume me. Maynard gently pulled down my last cotton barrier. “And I've been dreaming about your wet pussy all day.”
He was surprisingly gentle for a man who was strong enough to tear the hem out of expertly-made clothing. Hot and flexible, his tongue slowly explored my pussy. He did circles around my clit before focusing on it. The sensitive pressure pulsed through me in waves until it had my body wriggling against him.
Colors exploded behind my closed eyelids, as he worked his magic. The light touch of his teeth on my lower lips nearly made me swoon. “Oh God, I'm so close.”
“Come for me” His voice was silky caramel to my brain. Maynard's tongue slipped inside of me and I lurched forward, coming. My stomach contracted a dozen, rapid times. The release was so good. I could feel his smile at what he did to me. “That's it, let me taste all of you. Every last drop.”
Fucking hell! He was so filthy. I loved every second of it.
“Take me to your bedroom.” The thought of being the only woman in his bed was intoxicating. It almost felt taboo somehow. Like I was about to have sex in a confessional booth. “I want you to fuck me on your bed.”
When my tremors finally stopped, Maynard bit my thigh and rose up. As he did, he slid an arm under my ass and picked me up. “Yes, ma'am.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, my wetness soaking his hip. The vibration in his every step sent little earthquakes through my pussy. By the time we got into his room I was so ready to go again that I could barely contain myself.
Two of his bedroom walls were lined with tinted glass that allowed for the most amazing view of the city that I'd ever seen. He placed me down before his California king bed and started to undo his pants. He motioned toward the bed. “Lay down.”
“No.” I said stopping him. I couldn't rip his pants off so I just unclasped and unzipped them. I slipped my hands into the elastic waistband of his underwear, then looked up at him. My eyes not-so-subtly flicked at his cock, then back up. “I want my present now.”
Maynard pulled his shirt off and nodded.
Watching his face intently, I lowered myself to the floor in a split, while I brought his pants down. His cock bounced free, nearly hitting me in the chin. His natural scent invaded me, it was manly and clean and made my brain swim.
My split wasn't as smooth as when I practiced all the time, but Maynard didn't care. He couldn't hide the pleasure in his smile at the show before him.
Maynard, a billionaire bad boy wanted me more than anyone else in the world. Knowing that brought me higher than any drug ever could. I loved that. I wanted that feeling always.
He stepped out of his pants, which freed me up to wrap both hands around his big cock. He flexed and made it grow even larger. It looked almost comically big in my small hands.
Eagerly, I took as much as I could of him into my mouth. And right away I began to choke. I was never very good at blowjobs, at least that's what Chance always told me. I pulled him out and a coughing fit took over. A saliva trail went from my lips to the head of his fat cock, then broke against my chin. I wiped it away, embarrassed.
I was afraid to look at him, I didn't want to see disappointment. Maynard lifted my chin anyway, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“You have never looked more beautiful,” he said. Despite his massive cock throbbing in the air, the sentiment was actually kind of touching. I had overreached a little with the display, but to my surprise he really didn't seem to mind. He helped me up from the split and tossed me onto the bed playfully. “Don't worry, you'll get better with practice.”
Did that mean he wanted me back after tonight? The thought that this might be more than a two-night stand made my heart leap in my ribcage. What would that even be like? I pushed the thought from my head, at least for now. I wanted to be in the 'here and now' and didn't want to think about anything outside of this bed. We could be floating in space for all I cared.
“Shut the hell up and get over here,” I teased, fisting his cock and pumping. He raised his eyebrows at me and crawled forward. A devilish smile creased his lips, and promised me that again my eyes were bigger than my stomach.
“For such a timid girl you sure know what you want.”
The plush mattress creased beneath our weight drawing us even closer together. For the next eternity, he walked his mouth up my hip, stomach and ribcage, stopping to kiss and bite. All the while, he palmed my pussy with one hand and teased my nipples with the other.
“And what do you want?” I asked, out of breath from near ecstasy. He made even breathing difficult! His fingers were unbelievably nimble and knew all the right parts to push and rub, he had the deft skill of a clay sculptor. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“I want you to come so hard and so long that you never want to leave this bed.” Maynard waited until the flushness of my climax was at its peak to reply. But, instead of stopping, he worked his fingers faster, applying even more pressure. I wanted to stop him but the tidal wave of pleasure was too good. “And then I want my cock to make you scream so loud that all of NYC can hear.”
Fuck... I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed his cock and pulled it toward my soaked entrance. My mind was muddy and sluggish, but one urge broke through it all. “I need you inside me right now!”
Maynard reached back into his pants and pulled out a condom. He didn't keep any in his night table? He kept giving me reasons to believe this was special. It was driving me almost as crazy as the sex.
Wrapped up tight, he dragged his cock-head between my pussy-lips, teasing me, driving me insane with wanting. I screamed.
“That's a good start,” he smiled, with all teeth. Then he slowly pushed into me, reminding me just how long it had been since the last time I had sex. And just how much better it was than my vibrator.
My face contorted with each inch he fed into me. The pleasure of being filled up mixed with the hints of pain of my inner walls stretching. It was the perfect speed, had he gone any faster it would have been uncomfortable.
“God, how can you feel so fucking good?” The words escaped me in a jumbled mess when he was fully in. His hand slid under my ass as his piston began to pump.
“Push against me. Make me work for it,” he said. I did. I surrendered to all his whims and commands. He leaned over me, sweat glistening in the ambient city lights. He smelled like sex and power; it was intoxicating.
“You're mine, do you hear me?” Maynard pumped faster now. He was a runaway train and I was along for the ride, holding on for dear life. My body shifted beneath him, getting a better angle. I could feel him throughout my entire body. My every muscle fiber bent to his lust.
I tried to reply but all my words were mush. I couldn't think, my brain gave way to just feeling, instead. I felt his fingers squeezing my ass, and the way his balls slapped against my pussy with each wet stroke. Every mo
vement, grunt, exhale, and stare culminated into an explosion within me.
Climax gripped me from deep inside and twisted me all up. My toes curled and my legs straightened, everything that could tighten and constrict on me, did. I became a human vice.
“Oh shit,” Maynard grunted, jerking forward. Sweat droplets fell from his nose and dotted my slick chest. My pussy crushed all around his cock, milking him. His pelvis bucked against my sensitive clit like a live electrical wire.
My orgasm fed into his, and we both rode that wave together.
When I could breathe again I pulled him into me. Maynard resisted long enough to slide his cock out and get rid of the condom. He crashed into the sheets and slid an arm under me. Maynard commanded the windows to untint, the dim room became twice as bright.
It was always amazing to me how bright the city was, even when there was no moon. The overcast sky had broken and a light white dusting fell from the sky. Maynard's near panoramic view made the world look like a reverse snow globe, with us being the ones encased in glass instead.
“It's snowing...” I whispered, from the warmth and safety of Maynard's arms. It was the first time I'd ever seen snow from the top of a skyscraper. I could only imagine what it was doing to traffic on the ground, but up here it felt like a scene of a movie. It was so pretty.
Maynard started laughing.
“What's so funny?” I looked at him with obvious confusion. Were my feelings about the snowfall written on my face?
“Merry fucking Christmas!” he yelled, his body going tense with the effort. Then he looked at me, smiling innocently. “Sorry, it's just— I feel fantastic.” His arm closed around me pulling me nearly on top of him. We were a gross mess, but I didn't mind it at all. I really liked the closeness. “This is usually a pretty lonely time of year for me. I think that was why I started throwing the parties in the first place.”
That actually made a lot of sense. I was coming to understand that Maynard was a broken man. He was rich enough to afford anything but genuine companionship. It was really sad when I thought about how alone he must feel all the time, even around all these people.
