by R. R. Banks
Zoe's body spasms on my cock as she lets out a long, loud, moan – one that I'm sure can be heard all the way up in the law offices of Nichols and Associates. Her body is trembling, and her nails dig into my shoulders as her orgasm rocks her body.
A few seconds later, her eyes are closed and her face is still burning red, but a sultry little smile touches her lips.
“That was amazing,” she says. “Fucking amazing.”
“I do love that dirty mouth on you,” I say.
“Then you're going to love when I put your dick in it.”
She quickly climbs off my lap and strips the condom off, throwing it to the floorboard. She pushes me over toward the wheel a bit, so she can kneel on the floorboard. Zoe grabs my cock and squeezes it firmly, drawing a gasp from me. Small currents of electricity shoot through my body as she moves her hand up and down my hard shaft.
“Tell me you want it.”
I chuckle. “Giving orders now, are we, love?”
“Shut up and tell me,” she commands. “I want to hear you say it.”
I've never been a submissive one in the bedroom, always preferring to be the one in charge. But, I have to say, this little role reversal, with her ordering me about is kind of hot. There's something about that fierce hunger in her eyes and commanding presence, that's turning me the fuck on.
“I want it, Zoe,” I say.
“Want what?” she asks as she grips my penis even tighter.
“I want your hot little mouth on my cock,” I say. “I want you to suck me off, beautiful.”
Her full lips curl into a devilish smile. She runs the tip of her tongue around the head of my cock, licking the underside before tasting the pre-cum that's seeping out of the tip. Never taking my eyes off her, I lean back against the headrest and let out a soft moan.
Zoe slips the head of my cock into her mouth, sucking on it at the same time as she starts to jerk me off. I watch her head bobbing up and down on my thick shaft as she works her hand and mouth hard, like she has something to prove.
“Christ, Zoe,” I mutter as lightning bolts of pleasure shoot through me.
She tightens her grip as well as her mouth around my cock, sucking and stroking me even harder. I feel the pressure building up inside of me and know I'm not going to last much longer.
“Fuck, baby,” I groan. “You're going to make me come.”
She lifts her head for a moment, a playful twinkle in her eye. “That's the whole point,” she teases. “Cum for me, Connor. I want to taste you. Cum in my fucking mouth.”
Zoe stares up at me as she puts my dick back into her mouth. She licks and sucks, stroking me hard and fast. Watching her blow me with such intensity and purpose is intoxicating. The sensations echoing throughout my body are unlike anything I've ever felt before. It's fucking amazing.
The pressure builds to a crescendo, and I press my head back against the seat and cry out as I feel my cock throbbing. A moment later, my cock pulses erratically as I blow my load, filling her mouth with my seed. She stops moving and focuses on taking all of it in. Zoe swallows it all down, not missing a drop, before looking up at me with a smile as she licks her lips.
I wipe away the sweat drops on my forehead and try to get my breathing and heart under control again. I feel lightheaded but can't help a goofy smile from growing on my face.
“That was incredible, Zoe,” I sign.
She smiles, her eyes glassy and unfocused. I can relate to the feeling.
We bask in the afterglow until I see a familiar look of uncertainty darken her face. She looks around as if waking up from a dream and finding herself in a nightmare. Zoe sits up and quickly buttons her blouse, tucking it in as best she can as she, given the situation. She's silent and stares straight through the windshield.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She looks at me and I see the fear in her eyes again, along with a slight trace of satisfaction. “I can't believe we just did that.”
“Yeah, it was pretty unbelievable,” I say and laugh, trying to lighten the suddenly dark mood.
“That's not what I meant,” she explains. “I told myself I couldn’t do this again. That I wouldn’t.”
“Zoe, there's nothing wrong –”
“There is, though,” she says. “There is.”
“What?” I ask. “What's wrong with what we did?”
She shakes her head. “This – this can't happen again, Connor,” she says. “It just can't.”
Before I can stop her, she gets out of the car, shutting the door behind her. I jump out from behind the wheel and almost trip over my pants, which are still bunched around my knees. I quickly pull them up and get myself zipped and buttoned, cursing at myself under my breath.
Zoe checks her hair and makeup in a small compact mirror before turning and heading for the elevators. I catch up to her at the elevators and stop her.
“What's wrong, Zoe?” I ask.
“I just – we – this can't happen, Connor.”
“I don't understand,” I say. “There's obviously something between us. I think it's worth –”
She shakes her head and I see the tears standing in her eyes. “I can't, Connor.”
A black Jaguar pulls into the garage and parks near us. I turn and see Bryant Brooks get out and close the door behind him, his eyes fixated on us. As he walks to the elevators, he raises his key fob and the alarm on his car chirps.
“What's going on here?” he asks, his eyes full of suspicion.
Oh, you know, just banging in the car like a couple of horny teenagers. The usual, mate. I can tell that he doesn't like seeing me with Zoe.
“Zoe here was just clarifying a few things about this proposed settlement,” I say.
“Oh?” He turns to Zoe, the suspicion in his eyes not diminishing. He can tell that something is going on – and the fact that Zoe looks guiltier than a prostitute in church isn't helping. And Bryant obviously does not like it.
He looks at her the way a father would a misbehaving child. Or worse, like his favorite possession.
“Yeah, Bryant,” Zoe chimes in. “We were just going over a few things. No big deal.”
Bryant steps closer to her, basically wedging himself between us. He puffs out his chest and stares at me like he wants to throttle me right then and there. For such a small statured man, he certainly likes to pretend he's a lot bigger than he is. I take a step back, chuckling to myself.
“Something funny?” he asks.
I shrug. “I just wish I'd worn my waterproof boots,” I say. “I didn't know I was going to have my leg pissed on this hard today.”
Bryant's face darkens as he looks at me. “You are absolutely vile,” he says. “What a disgusting piece of filth.”
I laugh in his face. “That's just part of my charm, lad.”
It's obvious he's trying to hold his temper in check – which is probably for the best. I have a few inches, and probably a good fifty pounds of muscle on him. Plus, he's the pampered, college prep, frat boy type. I really doubt he'd know what to do once it comes down to throwing blows. It's been a while since I was in a good street fight, but I was a scrapper back in the day.
His glare might work on lesser men. But not me. It's a look he probably practices in the mirror and uses in court to badger people into doing what he wants. To me, it’s laughable.
“Stay away from her,” he says. “I'll only give you this warning once.”
I flash him a crooked grin. “You'll have to excuse me if I don't fall over and tremble in fear at your feet. I've been threatened by far better – and scarier – men than you.”
His face darkens, and his look transforms to one of pure malevolence. If he had a gun in his hand, I have no doubt he would love to shoot me right now. His territorialism is mind-blowing to me. He actually thinks he owns her, or that she's his possession to keep, or something. It's disgusting.
He puts his hand on Zoe's lower back and starts to usher her toward the elevator. She recoils from his touch a
nd walks ahead of him. He looks back at me, glowering, his face pinched and angry. I know Zoe is going to catch hell from him, and I wish there was something I could do to head it off or bear the brunt of it for her. She doesn't deserve it.
As the doors on the elevator start to close, she looks up and catches my gaze. I can see the confusion on her face and the uncertainty in her eyes. But, I also see something buried even deeper. A faint beam of light struggling to break free of the darkness.
The doors slide shut, leaving me alone with amazing memories of our afternoon together, and an overwhelming desire to make more, as well as confusion on Zoe's hot and cold ways.
Chapter Fourteen
Zoe
“You slept with him, didn't you?”
Bryant's voice is low, growling, and his face is pinched with anger. I say nothing. I stand at the back of the elevator, staring at the doors and counting down the seconds until I can get away from him.
“I can practically smell the sex on you,” he mutters.
I sigh. “Paranoid, as usual.”
We haven't spoken much since the incident at the restaurant during his disgusting attempt at a date. He's happily kept his distance from me since – especially when I'm carrying a cup of coffee in my hand. And they say you can't teach an old dog new tricks.
It's a trend I'm hoping continues but judging by the way he'd tried to handle me down in the garage – like a piece of his property that needs to be managed – I have a feeling it's not going to be that easy. Now I’m sure he’s just regrouping and scheming another avenue of attack.
Bryant is a bulldog. When he wants something, he doesn't give up easily. I've seen him grind people away and wear them down – even clients – until he gets what he wants. And he apparently wants me – even though I told him unequivocally that feeling is in no way reciprocated.
He's got my father on his side though, so I'm pretty sure it's only a matter of time before he tries to make another pass at me. Some might be flattered at receiving relentless attention from a man like Bryant. I’m not. In fact, I'm pretty repulsed by it.
“I can't believe you slept with him,” he says.
The anger inside boils over, and I snap. “First of all, that is none of your goddamn business,” I growl. “And even if I did sleep with him, I don’t owe you shit, Bryant. Get this through your fucking head, you and I are not together. We will never be together. Ever. Period. Fuck off.”
He physically recoils at what I just said. Even I can't believe the words that just fell out of my mouth. I don't usually use profanity. Even when I’m seething mad. Clearly, Connor is rubbing off on me. But, still, it drives the point home. And if there was any ambiguity in his mind, that little tirade should have cleared it up.
The door chimes before sliding open, and I'm the first to march through it. I all but sprint down the hallway to my office and slam the door behind me.
I roll my eyes and drop down into the chair behind my desk and let out a long, aggravated sigh. I know my father is going to be knocking on my door any minute, demanding to know whether or not I slept with Connor, and why I'm treating his golden child so poorly. Honestly, he should just marry Bryant himself and be done with it. Those two were made for each other.
I turn on my computer and bring up my email. Might as well get a little work done while I wait for the other shoe to inevitably drop. I go through and return a few messages and sort out the junk from the rest. As I sit there, I feel a quiver in my most sensitive parts, which brings Connor to mind again.
I mentally kick myself. Hard. I can't believe I slept with him again. And in the parking lot downstairs no less. What was I thinking? Anybody could have seen us. My father could have seen us. Although Bryant suspects we were having sex in the car, he has no actual proof of it, but I'm sure he's filling my father in on all his theories and suspicions regardless. I'm sure in the twisted story he's undoubtedly telling my father, Bryant was in the back seat watching the whole time.
My mind drifts back to Connor. Seeing the confusion on his face killed me. I feel terrible for being so hot and cold with him. For sleeping with him one minute and then telling him to stay away from me the next. I can understand why he's confused. If I was being put on the spot like that, I’d be upset too.
He's not wrong to think that there's a connection between us. I can't explain it. I don’t really understand it myself. But, it's there nonetheless. There's something about him that draws me to him and won't let go.
And I'm not even just talking about the sex. Though, it’s mind-blowing on its own.
No, there's just something about his personality that compels me – that really resonates with me. It kind of feels like a piece of a puzzle – a piece I never realized was missing – snapped into place when he walked into my life.
And it terrifies me. It shakes me down to the very core of me, and I don’t know what I should do about it.
I've spent so long – basically my entire life – shying away from any sort of serious relationship. My father never approved of the few men I was attracted to, and eventually, ran them all off. It made me hesitant about letting myself become attached to anyone in fear of what my father might do to them. And my relationships with the guys I dated in secret behind his back always ended in disaster – usually because of my screwed-up head. Either that or they only wanted to sleep with me, which wasn't going to happen.
Relationships always end in misery for me anyway, one way or the other.
Eventually, I decided to resign myself to spending my life alone and threw myself into school, and then my career. At least I could have one thing in my life that would bring me a sense of fulfillment and satisfaction. Or so I thought. Bryant and my father have pretty much ruined that for me too.
Given my history, the idea of starting a relationship with Connor scares me to death.
The door to my office suddenly opens as my father storms in, closing it behind him a little harder than necessary. He obviously needs to show me just how displeased he is with me. He crosses the room and drops down into the chair across from me, his eyes fixed to mine. His jaw is clenched, and his nostrils are flaring – obvious signs that he's mad.
“Wow, I’m so shocked that Bryant ran into your office and played tattle-tale,” I say. “Don't you ever get tired of boot-licking lapdogs, Dad?”
“Actually, what I’m tired of is my own daughter trying to make me into a fool.”
I lean back in my chair and let out a long sigh. “How exactly am I doing that, Dad?”
“Well, can we start with the incident in the restaurant?”
“Were you there?” I ask. “Did you hear the way your precious little Bryant spoke to me? The way he disrespected me?”
“I know Bryant,” he replies. “And I know he'd never disrespect you. I also know that you're overly-sensitive and tend to take things out of context.”
“Oh, right,” I say. “So, this is all my fault and, as usual, Bryant did nothing wrong. Bryant can disrespect me and treat me like dirt, and it's still my fault. I must have been asking for it. Yeah, wonderful. I'm pretty sure you'd find a way to justify it and make it my fault if he'd shot and killed me in that restaurant too.”
“That's not it at all, and you know it. Stop being such a drama queen, Zoe,” he scolds. “I'm just saying that you have a tendency to read too much into things sometimes. As well as a little emotionally volatile.”
I'm clenching my jaw so hard, I'm almost afraid my teeth are going to shatter. I narrow my eyes and glare at my father, absolutely sickened at the mere sight of him right now. I can't believe he's taking Bryant's side in this or saying these things to me.
I guess, all things considered, I shouldn't be that surprised, but it still hurts. And it hurts deeply.
“Did you sleep with Connor Grigson?” he asks.
I expected the question, so I'm already prepared for it and roll my eyes, letting out a long, irritated sigh.
“As I told Bryant, even if had, it would be none of yo
ur business,” I say. “I'm a grown woman and more than capable of making my own decisions.”
“Not when it comes to interfering with my firm,” he says, his voice ice cold. “You know that getting involved with someone we have a pending suit against is a conflict of interest. You could potentially sink the whole case.”
“It's a BS case to begin with, Dad. You're trying to extort thirty million dollars out of a guy who doesn't deserve to be screwed over like that. This case is unethical, at best. At worst, it's criminal. And you know it.”
He shrugs. “Just in case you were trying to conflict your way out, or were thinking of turning us in,” he says, “remember that you're a part of this. Whatever fate befalls us, befalls you – the good as well as the bad.”
“The hell I am,” I say. “I told you the first day –”
“Yes, you are,” he replies, his grin almost feral. “I've made sure that you're just as invested in this case as we are. At least, your name appears on all the official documentation. So, if you turn us in, you're turning yourself in too.”
I sit back, completely taken aback at the fact that my father would do this to me. That he'd implicate me in this fraudulent scheme. That he'd see me in prison for his misdeeds if they ever became known. I'm numb from the impact of this knowledge.
“You bastard,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper. “You absolute bastard.”
He shrugs. “You're part of this firm,” he says. “You have to take the good with the bad, honey. Now, let me ask you again, did you sleep with Connor Grigson?”
“No,” I say.
He sighs and nods, giving me a tight, strained smile. I assume that means he believes me.
“Look, honey,” he says. “I don't mean to come down on you like this. I'm not threatening you. I just need to know that you are part of this firm. That you're all in. I’ve always done what's best for you, and I just need to know that I can expect the same from you.”
“Like trying to force Bryant on me?” I ask. “Is that what's best for me?”
He nods. “You don't see it or understand it yet, maybe because you're too young,” he says. “But yes. Yes, it is. Bryant is a good man. He'll make a good husband.”
