by Mika Lane
He lost himself exploring me, sliding my thong down my legs, helping me step out of it. I started to kick off my heels.
“No. Keep them on. You know I like that,” he whispered.
Who was I to argue? I felt so sexy and beautiful under his touch. He could have done anything he wanted.
He squatted so he was eye level with my shaved sex. He leaned close enough to just run his tongue between the opening of my wet lips. Good lord. The room spun. With one hand on the window behind me and the other on his head, it was all I could do to remain upright.
“Turn around,” he demanded.
I opened my eyes. Since I was in no condition to do anything fast, I rotated my body by leaning into the window. Bared and vulnerable, I looked down on the crowd below and found myself wishing they could see us.
“Step away from the window a little,” Brodie directed.
I took a couple big steps back, and he bent me at the waist, like he had over my sofa, until I could reach the window with my hands. He kicked my feet apart, leaving my pussy and ass fully exposed.
“What if someone comes in?” I was only somewhat concerned. This was too much fun to stop.
“Good for them if they do,” he mumbled as he buried his face in my ass.
His tongue ran up and down my slit in an erotic tease. To intensify the sensation, I pushed back against him and he lapped me more deeply. I panted almost to the point of hyperventilation, steadying myself against the big window with the dirty knowledge I was getting off while watching the crowd below. If they only knew.
He slipped a finger into my hungry pussy, and I cried out, bucking against him for deeper penetration. He gave me two more fingers, and the fullness had me losing my mind as I writhed against the glass before the oblivious partiers below.
If that wasn’t fucking hot, I didn’t know what was.
My breath came in pants and my hands started to slip on the glass. I pressed against it harder for purchase and my breasts hung heavy, swinging from Brodie’s pumping. A pressure built in my pussy and I clenched the fingers buried in me until I could take no more.
“C’mon baby. Come on my hand. I want to smell you. I want to taste you.”
His words sent me over the edge.
“God, Brodie. I’m coming.” I moaned.
He had an arm around my waist, holding me in place while he finger banged me, not stopping until a second wave of orgasm crashed into me. My knees buckled and he placed me on a sofa where he pushed my legs up over his shoulders and crammed his cock all the way in me in one stroke. In my stupor I had neither noticed him open his trousers, nor put on the condom he was wearing.
And now he was balanced over me balls deep, slamming my pussy over and over. His mouth was on mine, absorbing my screams as he spread me more wide open than I’d ever been.
Just as I thought I might pass out, a deep rumbling erupted from his throat. He growled my name, pushed as deeply as he could, and held himself there, his cock pulsating deep inside me.
All I could see were stars, and then everything went dark.
Chapter 20
Brodie
Christ, I’d never fucked anyone into oblivion before.
Nara was turned on as hell, getting worked over in front of a window with a thousand people on the other side of it, and when she finally detonated, I caught her just as she got woozy and began to pass out.
She crumpled into my arms, her skin hot and coated with a sweet layer of perspiration. I carried her to a sofa, donned a condom, and finished the job. Afterward, she couldn’t speak, but clung to me like I was a lifeline. I gathered her onto my lap and patted her clammy face until she came to a few seconds later. She was beyond cute, all curled up in my arms and whimpering, wearing nothing but those damn high heels. No one ever would have guessed she was founder of a tech firm that was about to rocket to success. I guess that’s part of what I loved about her.
Oh shit. Did I say love?
Like. I meant like.
“Wow,” she murmured, looking around the room. “You really are something, hot stuff.”
I helped her to her feet. “You’re not so bad yourself, Miss Happy.”
I helped her step back into her dress and I tied it behind her neck just as it had been before I’d devoured her. She ran her fingers through her mass of hair and pulled out a compact from her purse, possibly to make sure she didn’t have mascara running down her cheeks. Even if she had, I would have wanted to remember her this way, forever.
“You’re beautiful, doll,” I told her.
She put the compact away and gave me a look that almost made me pass out. It was one of warm appreciation, and if I wasn’t losing my mind, kindness. I didn’t know that was a thing much less a turn on, but it blew me away.
I couldn’t think of a thing to say.
“Okay,” she said, smoothing the wrinkles in her dress and taking my hand. “I think I’m presentable enough. Where to now?”
I cleared my throat, my damn coming back to life like it was obsessed.
“Home. With me.”
“Let’s do it.”
* * *
On the way out of the hotel lobby, I saw Joel and Pam in the distance, arguing and rolling eyes at each other. I could tell by the way Nara averted her head that she’d seen them, too, and didn’t want to get sucked into their drama. We kept our heads down and walked as quickly as her high heels would allow.
Outside in the beautiful evening, I handed my valet ticket to the bellman, who called for my car.
“Well, look who we have here,” said a voice out of nowhere.
I wasn’t sure where it came from, but it was spoken in a very distinct British accent.
But Nara seemed to know, because her grip on my hand tightened so hard I thought she might break my fingers. She inched closer.
I smelled her fear, and instantly slid into protection mode.
A wiry, funny-looking guy sauntered up to us, getting uncomfortably close enough to ooze his bad breath. Given the fact that Nara had moved nearer to me, he had ended up in my personal space as well. Which was his first mistake.
“Can I help you?” I asked him, stepping forward until he had no choice but to step back.
He looked at me with a sneer and then back at Nara.
A light bulb went off. He was the English fucker extorting her for ten grand.
“Simon,” she hissed, looking around, “what are you doing here? This is completely inappropriate.”
He threw his head back and laughed. Just like all dickheads did. “Oh, that’s rich, darling.” He looked me up and down. “I know who you are. I read all about you in Page Six. Mr. Harcourt, did you know you are holding the hand of my wife? My legal wife?”
Nara stepped between us in an attempt to diffuse a situation clearly headed for ugliness. But I held out an arm to keep Simon away.
“Look,” I growled, “I know who you are now that you’ve opened your big fucking mouth. You might want to think about backing off, or this may not end well for you.”
Nara looked nervously from Simon to me and back. “Now, guys…”
But in spite of my warning, Simon ignored me and closed in on her again.
“Look you little bitch,” he spat. “You owe me. And if you don’t come through, you will be ruined. And I will enjoy every second of it—”
I could only guess where he was going with that, because he never finished. With a quick jab from my fist, he’d fallen to the ground screaming in pain, blood pouring out of his nose.
Yup. I’d slugged him.
And I wasn’t done.
I grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him back to his feet. He sputtered and swore, his eyes tearing from the pain.
“Simon? Can you hear me?” I asked.
He continued stammering.
“Simon. I need to tell you something really important. Are you listening?”
He made an attempt at a weak nod.
“Listen carefully. I don’t like repeating
myself. If I were you, I would not threaten Nara again. Do you hear me?” I let go of his lapel.
As soon as I did, he stumbled and landed back on his ass. He was shouting what were probably obscenities, but his hysterical state mixed with his accent made his noises indecipherable. It was just as well. I needed to walk away before I got in trouble for assault. If I wasn’t already.
During the fracas, my car had arrived. The valet stood with his mouth as wide open as the car door, waiting for the fight to end, or us to get in the car, or both.
“Thanks, dude,” I said, tipping him. I closed Nara’s door and we headed home.
* * *
Nara didn’t say a thing until after I’d parked the car and we’d walked to my place.
“Wow, this is your building?” she asked, looking up at the old, industrial space.
I looked up at it, too. I had to admit, I really loved it. “Yeah. It used to be a sewing factory or something like that back in the day.”
“I pass buildings like this all the time, and I always wonder what they were before they were turned into residences. This is so cool.”
Like most New York homes, it took three keys and a combination to get in. The old building had been subdivided into four apartments, and the high ceilings lent themselves to the ever-popular open and airy loft configuration. I was a big fan of white walls and shiny black floors.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.
“Sure. That would be great. What are you having?” She wandered around and checked my place out. She slid a couple books off my shelves, replaced them, and moved on to some family photos.
“Good question.” I surveyed my liquor cabinet. What was I in the mood for…?
“I’m opting for a scotch. Care to join me?”
“Oooh, sounds good. I’d love one.”
A woman who drinks scotch. What planet did she fall off of?
We settled into my oversized sofa.
“Well,” she started, “that was something back there.”
I nodded slowly, unsure about whether I was about to get a scolding or a pat on the back. I was ready for either.
She tilted her head. “Do you think he’ll leave me alone now?”
“I don’t know. He’s an angry little shit. And borderline crazy, if you ask me. I doubt he’ll just go away. If you continue to have trouble from him, let me know.”
She smiled, and if I didn’t know better, was teary eyed. “Thank you for defending me.”
“It’s always a pleasure to put a jerk like that in his place. And to help a kick-ass woman at the same time.”
She set her drink on the coffee table and stood.
“Do you think I could see the bedroom?” she asked.
I was liking this woman more and more.
Chapter 21
Nara
After that session with Brodie overlooking the ballroom, I wanted more.
And then there was his apartment. As a former factory, the ceilings were insanely high, the floors a polished concrete. Old-timey casement windows stretched the entire length of every exterior wall, their slim metal frames painted a lumpy black probably from years of coats of paint. The effect was utterly charming. An open kitchen sat in a far corner, and the rest of the first floor was so large there were two different seating areas and of course a dining room. It would be the perfect setting for a party.
After a couple sips of my scotch, I was ready for the bedroom. I was not usually the aggressor, but something about him did me in. I wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend or to even start dating for that matter, but just looking at him made my heart pound, and the way he looked back at me made me woozy. It was as if he’d never seen a woman before, which of course, wasn’t true—but without even trying, he made me feel…special. That was it. Like I was really something. Who wouldn’t love that?
Because his place was a loft, of course there was a set of stairs that led to another open space of some sort. Not only did I want more of him, I was dying to see the rest of the apartment—I’d never been in a loft. So I got bold, and led him by the hand.
The entire second floor was a wide-open bedroom overlooking the lower level. His unmade king-size bed was covered with what looked like the world’s fluffiest down comforter, and a sofa and chair faced a wall-mounted TV off to the corner. A grouping of framed photos on the wall drew me closer.
“Is that you?” I asked, pointing at a tall, lanky teenager who was handsome beyond his years while retaining the out-of-proportion puppy look so many adolescent boys wore.
“Yeah.” He laughed. “I was pretty damn awkward.”
“What? You?” No way. Guys like him were never awkward. They were born to rule with their good looks and confidence. “You probably had a gazillion girlfriends,” I told him. I, on the other hand, did not have a single suitor in high school. Lots of sex, but sex does not a relationship make. I learned that fact young and I learned it the hard way.
He shook his head. “I had crushes. Typical summer romances. I married my college girlfriend.”
“You’ve been married? Really?”
“Yeah. We split after a year. We were too young. Too stupid.”
Another surprise.
I moved toward him. Gripping his shirt, I untucked it from his trousers, my hands flying under it to his powerful chest. I loved that he didn’t have an ounce of fat. Yum.
In my heels, I had to look up to see him. When I did, his mouth came down hard on mine, crushing my lips with a fury that both scared and turned me on. I slipped his jacket from his shoulders and began to work the buttons of his starched shirt. He pulled me against his hips, his giant hard-on pressing against the length of my abdomen. It was as if it was our first time, and we hadn’t just fucked an hour ago.
“You’re beautiful, Happy. So fucking beautiful,” he murmured in between kisses.
God, what this guy did to me. It should have been illegal.
I threw his shirt to the floor and my hands wandered down his abdomen to his strong back. His skin was fevered, almost too hot to touch.
Next, I went for his belt, my shaking hands bumping against the huge tent in his pants. He ran his own hands through my hair, grabbing fistfuls of it and burying his face in it.
He stood before me in his boxers, his perfect splay of chest hair winding down to that little line below his belly button, leading to greater treasures. I ran a finger along the waistband of his boxers, and his stomach muscles flexed as he gave a throaty growl.
My heart raced, and I reached for the cheeks of his hard ass. I was desperate to feel as much of him as I could, and I closed my eyes, running my hands over every inch of flesh within my reach. With the flick of his wrist, he untied my halter, my dress puddling around my feet again. My sex swelled with all the blood flowing to my core, my pussy desperately slick.
He backed me up to the bed until I had to sit on its edge. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. Without hesitation, he pushed them down his long, toned legs, his abs flexing as he bent and straightened.
His thick cock bounced in freedom, a drop of pre-cum hanging on its tip. Without meaning to, I moaned, again made dizzy by the pure masculine command in front of me.
“Taste me,” he murmured, reaching to unhook my strapless bra. When he did, my tender breasts hung free, craving his attention. But that would have to wait.
I held his cock in my two hands, amazed once more by its velvety length and prominent crown. I drew it into my mouth, getting it nice and wet, taking the entire length until it hit the back of my throat. I forced myself to relax to avoid gagging, and looked up to see his head loll back from the pleasure. His hands wandered to my shoulders for leverage, and he rocked his hips to meet my demanding hunger.
He stiffened even more, stretching the recesses of my mouth. My lips pistoned over the length of his shaft, resting occasionally on his swollen head. There, I increased my suction to a point that drove him to call my name. I was shaking with the power of our e
xchange and sucked him harder, my cheeks hollowing from the force. Reaching a hand between my legs, I spread my slick cream over my hard clit, stroking it in time to my sucking.
His cock swelled and lengthened one last time.
“Suck me,” he growled and shot fiercely into my mouth. I swallowed as best I could, the rest of his thick cum running down my chin and landing on my breasts. He fucked my mouth with one last thrust and leaned to kiss the top of my head.
I’d given other guys head before, but it had never made me so hot I had to be forced to stop.
“God, baby. Look what you did to me.” He tilted my chin up and I saw him dripping with perspiration, his hair soaked like he’d been out in the rain. He was still hard and wet from my saliva though his breathing was returning to normal. He lifted me to standing with his strong arms and brought me to the bathroom where he wiped us both down with towels.
He brought me back to the bed. “C’mon. Under the covers.”
Pulling the comforter over us, he flicked off his bedroom light and wrapped his arms around me from behind. I sank into the safety of his embrace, where we remained just like that until morning.
Chapter 22
Brodie
That night I dreamt of my dad, and how all the bad stuff went down.
“Brodie, I need to talk to you.”
I look up from the books I was working on, learning how the hotel’s accounting worked. My dad always wanted to make sure I learned every aspect of running the place.
“You have to know how to do this, son, so you can teach others,” he had assured me during the miserable summer when he had my fifteen-year-old self cleaning rooms. That was one lousy assignment, but boy, did I get a new appreciation for the housekeepers who hustled around the hotel, working their asses off.
“Yeah, Dad?” I asked, not looking up from the financial statement I was trying to put together.
“Son, you know how last year we had a shortfall of cash?”
I looked up from my work. “Yes, what about it?”
