Satisfaction (The Temptation Series #2)

by K. M. Golland

  I turned to face him. “And why is that, Mr. Clark?”

  “Because your boss said so.”

  “Well if it’s the boss’ orders, I can’t exactly argue with them, can I?”

  “No, you can’t.”

  “So, what should I do on my day off then?” I leaned up against the door frame, sort of like the seductive pose Sandy from Grease does in ‘You’re The One That I Want’. Alexis, no wonder he laughs at you. You’re an idiot. His hands flexed, indicating my plot was continuing to work. Good. Make him beg.

  “You should do what your boss tells you to do, Ms Summers.”

  “But it is my day off; therefore, my boss is not the boss.” I turned back around, and exited the room.

  ***

  I knew he would be in pursuit, so I picked up my pace once I was around the corner. The problem was, my Jimmy Choo Mary Janes were not made for running, therefore, I only made it as far as the top of the stairs before his arms reached around my shoulders and held me to him. I screamed.

  “Alexis, you cannot run from me.” He kissed the back of my neck. Oh crap, don’t give in. Remember, make him beg.

  “I could if I weren’t in heels. You have an unfair advantage.”

  “Really?” He let me go and moved around to my front. “I can fix that.” And with his cheeky smirk, slid down a few steps and picked up my foot. Slowly, he traced his finger up and down my calf, untied the buckle and removed my shoe, then repeated the process with the other foot. “Right, we are on even ground now. You’ve got a 20 second head start...Go!” What? I looked at him confused. He turned and started counting as he walked back to his bedroom. Shit! Hide and Seek. I squealed, hitched up my dress slightly, and took off, jumping over the last two steps.

  Where was Charlotte when I needed her? To label her a professional at this game would be an understatement. She could hide in the smallest and most difficult spots imaginable. Fuck, where do I go? His apartment was huge, however, after desperately scanning my surroundings, I quickly concluded that I really didn’t have many options, especially on the first floor. I had no choice but to head outside. Luckily, the bi-fold doors were open, allowing me to sneak out and onto the balcony without him hearing. I ran past the swimming pool and around the corner. The doors to his dining area were also opened, thank goodness, which gave me a second escape route if needed. I spotted a large home gym machine up against a wall, and next to that wall was a window. That will do. I crouched down behind the gym machine. I could see into the apartment without giving my hiding spot away thanks to a large potted Yucca, so I peered through the leaves and watched him come down the stairs. You can seek me any day, hot stuff. The way he walked and wore the most adorable smirk ever, plucked at my heart strings. It was obvious he enjoyed his games, and I enjoyed playing them with him. My heart started to pound as the adrenalin began to build in my body. I watched him look towards the bi-folds then over to the kitchen. I thought he was going for the latter as he started in that direction, but he went straight to his front door and left the apartment. Shit, where is he going? Or is this a trick?

  I didn’t know whether to stay or run, the excitement over one simple decision was nearly overbearing. He had to be going to his office, there was no other alternative as far as I knew, it was either that or he planned on coming back through the door in the hope he’d spy me leaving my hiding spot. I moved across to his office window which was only about a metre to my left, and leaning over ever so slightly, I peered in. I was right, he was heading very quickly through his office to the spot I was hiding in, and he caught me peeping through the window. Crap. I screamed and used my second escape route, running through the open bi-folds and into the dining area. This gave me an advantage as my doors were open and his weren’t. I thought back to when I got stuck in his office, trying to escape through that same door, and it gave me a sense of satisfaction. What goes around comes around, Mr. Clark.

  There was a room next to the front door I had not been in yet, and as it was my closest option, I made the decision to go in there, hoping it would be unlocked. What also added to this gamble, was the fact I had no idea what was in the mystery room, and if it were a dead end or not. The handle turned, and the door unlocked. Thank goodness. I quickly went in and closed it ever so quietly behind me, being almost sure I had successfully snuck in without him knowing.

  I wasn’t surprised to find the room resembled a recording studio/man cave. There were different types of guitars, a drum kit, microphones, many speakers and some computer equipment. There was also a pool table, bar and Nintendo Wii. The room had an absence of windows, however, there were two skylights that went up maybe two to three stories high. I looked at one of them. Shit, they would be a pain in the arse to clean, poor housekeeping.

  I found the room intriguing as I slowly walked around, assessing its contents, and being in there gave me further insight into my Mr Adorable Clark. It was a fun room, a typical alpha male’s room, and a room that was well used by the looks of the sofa and scuff marks on the pool table. The various guitars leaning up against the wall were pretty impressive. Of course they are impressive, what do you expect? I had never played one myself, although I had always wanted to learn how. I loved listening to songs with a good guitar solo, my body reacts with awe at the very sound that resonates from these stringed wonders, I just love them. I could identify a Gibson Acoustic, Les Paul and the Fenders, but had no idea what the rest were.

  I also spotted some sheet music on a stand. Hmmm, I wonder what he’s been playing? I walked over to it, and glimpsed at the page. There was no song title, nor was there anything familiar, again, I had no idea how to play or read music, so the notes floating around on the paper were as clear to me as hieroglyphics. I could, however, clearly make out the scribbled words, there weren’t a lot of full sentences, but some words were strung together.

  ‘You’re all that I want and nothing else’

  ‘I’ve fallen hard and will never get up’

  ‘I cannot let go, I won’t’

  ‘You’re infectious, my love’

  Oh shit. My love! He’s writing a song about me! Oh no, I shouldn’t be in here. Crap! The only way out was through the door I came in. Shit, shit, shit. I approached the door, and that’s when I heard him call out.

  “Ms Summers. Come out, come out, wherever you are.” The voice sounded high up, and thinking he must be on the second level, I opened the door ever so slightly and peeped out. I was horribly wrong, he was in the middle of the lounge, and only about 20 feet away, and when he spotted my peeking face, he lit up like a Christmas tree. I squealed again, and shut the door. Awesome! A lock. I snipped it, making sure he could not get in. Almost instantly, the handle turned, but the door did not open. Phew, take that sucker! I sighed in relief.

  “Alexis Hunny, you’re trapped.” Oh shit, yeah, there is that. I was trapped, I couldn’t stay here all day. “Do you give up?”

  Hell No! Alexis Summers never gives up. “No, you haven’t won yet.” Suddenly I heard the clinking of keys. Shit, of course he has a key. My cockiness subsided, so I quickly ran round to the other side of the pool table. It was my only ally, I wasn’t about to throw guitars and instruments at him, so the pool table and I were now a pair to be reckoned with. I braced myself on the edge of it as the door clicked. Slowly he pushed it open, making my throat pause in mid swallow. He was standing in the doorway with a wicked grin on his face, and a triumphant expression to match.

  “Got you, my love.” He stepped into the room, making my body tense.

  “Not yet, you haven’t.”

  “You’ve got nowhere to go Hunny.” This is true Mr. Clark. I didn’t say anything, just stood there with my eyes fixed on him. I was not going to surrender; not this time. He slowly took steps toward me until he reached the other end of the pool table, then—still smiling his victory grin—he placed his hands on the edge,

  “You are quite cocky, Mr. Clark.” In more ways than one, I might add.

  “I alway
s win, Ms. Summers.” Arrogant much? I had the break of balls up my end, so I started rolling them in the hope I’d hit his fingers. He kept his cool and triumphant grin while the balls rolled and bounced off the cushions. So far, with four balls I had missed, but the fifth one I rolled with force, and it was as accurate as they come, hitting him on the left hand. “Fuck.” He quickly lifted his hand and shook it.

  My face lit up. “Bullseye,” I giggled, and that began the chase. He ran to his left, which made me do the same. He was quick, but I managed to keep the half-table distance between us, stopping after three laps in virtually the same spot we had started. My chest was heaving, and I was out of breath, probably due to unfitness or overexcitement.

  “Out of breath, my love?”

  “Yes, you seem to have that effect on me.” I tried to slow my breathing.

  “Good.” He took off again but this time to the right. He was much quicker, or I was slower, because I could not keep the same distance I had before, so I had to abandon the table and head for the drums. I managed to get in behind them, but had well and truly sealed my fate. I was in a corner now with only the percussion set between us, and my chances of victory now looked horribly slim. “Do you yield?” His voice was now soft.

  “No, I don’t yield.” I backed up against the wall.

  “That’s one of the things I love about you.”

  “I don’t yield, but I will make an exception in exchange for something.”

  “Anything, Alexis. You know I would give or do anything for you.” Yes, Bryce, I know you would. It’s one of the things I love about you.

  “Play a Fender for me.”

  “What do you want me to play?” He moved around the drum kit, stood right in front of me, and put his hands on my hips.

  “Anything...Surprise me.”

  “As you wish, my love.” He took hold of my hand, and led me over to the pool table, gently replacing his hands on my hips and lifting me on top of it. He walked over to the cream coloured Fender up against the wall, picked it up, plugged it in, and began to play. The chords were like music to my ears. Stairway to Heaven, I love this song.

  “Show off.” I called him this for two reasons: one, it had to be one of the best solo guitar pieces ever written, and two, this was more of his creepy research in action. He smirked back at me. Yes, definitely creepy research. How the fuck does he know this shit? I sat there mesmerised, watching how his left hand moved along the fingerboard with such controlled precision. He didn’t falter and looked so incredibly natural behind the guitar. It was a massive turn-on, not that he needed anything else to turn me on any further. I recognised the chords in the chorus, and a smile crept across my face. He spotted this and smirked back at me. He was good, VERY good. I seriously loved this song, I loved how it escalated in steps; it climbed, and you climbed with it.

  I put my head back and closed my eyes singing the lyrics in my head. There is a part in the song that mentions there are two paths you can go by, and as I sang it in my head, I felt incredibly connected to it at that moment in my life. I opened my eyes, and discovered him staring at me, displaying an expression of want on his face. He began to play the chorus again, and his hand went up and down the fingerboard in swift fast movements, making his body jerk. Oh fuck me, that is so sexy, and he hasn’t even begun the solo yet. It was coming though, and part of me was coming as well. The slow lead up had me wanting, yearning, and as he broke into the solo, I couldn’t help but fidget on the table. He noticed my lack of control, so I bit down on my lip, and tried to regulate my enormous urge for him. The sheer sight of him controlling the Fender was giving me an orgasm, and as he played the song, and it escalated, so did I. The speed in which his fingers were moving as he played was driving me wild. I wanted those fingers moving that quickly in a different place entirely, therefore, my attempts at regulating my enormous need for him were failing.

  He slowly walked over to me as he performed the final notes, and I found myself panting and positioned on the pool table, ready for him to devour me. He knew exactly how I felt; all it took was an exchange of eye contact between us. I adored this connection we shared—it was sexy—but also sweet that a simple look between us could speak a thousand words. He placed the guitar down on the table next to me and stood in front of my knees. Normally I would react to this stance by opening them, but the revenge outfit I had chosen was so tight, it restricted my desire to do so. He realised this and proceeded to roll the dress up my legs.

  “You picked that song on purpose, Bryce.”

  “It’s what I do, Ms Summers.”

  “You are incredible.”

  “I told you, I make it a priority to know every single...”

  “No, I mean you’re an incredible guitarist. I loved it.”

  He slipped his finger underneath my lace G-string. “Yes, I can see that.”

  I had suspected I was moist, and he had just confirmed that suspicion. I let out a small moan for him as his fingers investigated. His digits were divine, followed closely behind by his tongue when it came to ranking his body parts. Surrendering finally, I laid back on the pool table.

  “I yield. I yield,” I confess.

  “Very good, my love.” He removed his finger and tore off my underwear.

  “You can’t keep destroying my G-strings, I’ll have none left.” He raised his eyebrow indicating he liked the idea. “You are a wicked man, Bryce Clark.” I shook my head at him, as he rolled my dress up further, exposing me from my navel down. He pressed his lips to my abdomen, and kissed the scar I bore from giving birth to Charlotte. I wasn’t ashamed of my scar—it was a part of me, and signified what I endured to give life to my precious daughter. The fact that he kissed me there was sexy as hell, and it told me he too, appreciated my wound. I adored his practical nature and his down to earth personality, also finding his realism charming. I simply adored him. I brought my head up from the table and smiled at him.

  “What?” he asked, bemused by my smile.

  “Nothing.” Ah let’s see how you like the whole, ‘I’m not going to tell you what I’m smirking at’ thing.

  “Alexis, are you smirking at me?”

  “What if I am? What are you going to do about it?” He thrived on my challenges, because as soon as I had finished declaring one, his face would respond with enthusiastic acceptance. He growled aggressively and plunged in between my legs. At first I squealed, but then the sensation of his movements quickly spread over me, and my squealing turned to moaning almost instantly. Oh fuck. The devouring I had eagerly hoped for was well and truly under way now. His tongue was mind blowing and lashing me ferociously. I stretched my hands out, sending balls scattering in all directions, bouncing from cushion to cushion then back into me again. Bloody balls. He continued his luscious assault on me, twirling his tongue in every direction he saw fit. My back arched, from the incredible climax he had compelled me to reach, and I couldn’t help but call his name, “Bryce.” I flipped over eagerly and positioned myself on all fours as he climbed up on the table.

  “No, Hunny, I like to see you. I like to see your face, to watch you enjoy it.”

  I rolled back over. “Better?”

  “Hmmm,” he groaned, then kissed me and entered my body enthusiastically. Sex on a pool table, another first for me. I wonder if there’s a cocktail named for that too? I did a happy clap in my head. My happiness soon began to fade as I felt my arse start to burn, and my moans of delight were momentarily turning into moans of discomfort. I must’ve displayed an expression to match.

  “What’s wrong?” Bryce slowed his movements to question me.

  “Nothing.” Endure it, Alexis, you little wimp.

  “Alexis, tell me.” He looked slightly concerned. I started laughing, and placed both hands across my face, then hesitantly confessed.

  “I think I’m getting carpet burn on my arse.” Oh. My. God. How embarrassing. He stopped and pulled out, so I rolled over to show him.

  “Yes, that you are my love.�
� He laughed, bent down and kissed the tender spot. I looked around the room, eyeing the fluffy rug by the TV as a softer option. Yes, that will do.

  “Rug?” I suggested.

  “Good choice.” He jumped off the pool table and offered his back to me.

  “Jump on,” he looked backed over his shoulder winking at me. A piggyback. How sweet. I accepted, smiled and kissed his cheek. He carried me over to the silvery plush pile, where I swiftly unwrapped my legs from him and slid to the floor. I repositioned myself quickly, lying flat on my back with my arms spread out. He stood above me smiling. “Eager are we, Ms Summers?”

  “Yes, very, Mr. Clark. What are you waiting for?” He fell forward toward me, which made me squeal. I didn’t think he was going to stop and my breasts, although they make good cushions, were not going to take this impact very well. I closed my eyes, but nothing happened. Curious, I opened one of them to find he had stopped just above me with his arms locked, the muscles in his upper region flexed and hard. Surprise and relief flooded over me, so I screwed up my face, which made him laugh.

  “Not funny,” I sulked, although I did like the look of his impeccable arms all hard and taut like they were now. I ran my hands along them, they truly were exquisite. “Mr Clark, what big arms you have.” I gave him a cheeky grin, then brought mine up and hit the insides of his elbows quite hard. They gave way and he landed on my chest, so I grabbed hold of him and savoured his glorious mouth with my own.

  “Remind me not to teach you anymore self-defence moves.” He took hold of both my hands and placed them above my head, holding them securely in place. Then as if my knees were programmed to his instructions, they rose up, allowing him to insert his still firm cock inside me once again. I indulged in his glorious rhythm and silently agreed that facing him during our love making was undoubtedly the way to go. It allowed us to taste each other, and this only added to our exhilaration. I also loved reading his eyes as we consumed each other entirely. It gave me an insight into the incredibly private and intriguing mind that Bryce has—a mind I wanted to know exclusively. I gently closed my eyes as I moaned in delight. He kissed my eyelids, making me open my mouth wider for him to repeat the kiss there.