by Cee Smith
Everett
Copyright © 2016 Cee Smith
Editing by Erica’s Editing Services
Cover Design © Najla Qamber Designs
Formatting by Champagne Formats
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
contents
title page
copyright
dedication
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
chapter ten
chapter eleven
chapter twelve
chapter thirteen
chapter fourteen
chapter fifteen
chapter sixteen
chapter seventeen
chapter eighteen
chapter nineteen
chapter twenty
chapter twenty-one
chapter twenty-two
chapter twenty-three
chapter twenty-four
chapter twenty-five
chapter twenty-six
chapter twenty-seven
chapter twenty-eight
chapter twenty-nine
chapter thirty
chapter thirty-one
chapter thirty-two
chapter thirty-three
chapter thirty-four: everett
playlist
a note from the author
acknowledgments
about the author
other books
To the man I’d follow anywhere
Thank you for being the best decision I’ve ever made
Wednesday, May 6th
We swiped our metro cards with jubilation. With hands still clutched together, we skipped through the turnstiles. The stations near the financial district were pretty desolate that time of night, most workers having retired for the day. It didn’t matter, though; we still would have felt like we were the only two down there.
The underground growled, alerting us to the oncoming subway. We pulled apart to greet the tube of metal barreling down the platform. I stepped forward, my feet brushing the edge of the yellow line that screamed Danger. There was something wicked about being that close to the edge. If the signs plastered around the tunnel were anything to go by, I was defying all logic and facing possible death.
An arm slipped around my waist pulling me through the opening doors.
A solitary man in a suit stood off to our right like a statue, acting as overseer and guardian of the empty train car. Empty seats surrounded him, yet he stood tall with his chin tipped up and shoulders pressed back. His quiet authority demanded attention—a demand I found myself wanting to heed.
Breaking my gaze on the stranger, I turned to see where I was being led. Ryan turned his head and looked beyond me, belatedly taking notice of the man. We sat on the other side of the closing doors, far enough to give the man his space in the empty subway car, yet close enough that his presence was a weight grounding me to my seat.
I twisted around to take in what I could of the man to our right. In the adjacent chair was a black leather briefcase, supple from a fresh coat of polish atop a carefully folded charcoal gray blazer. If the subway were a little more crowded I would have had an excuse to sit closer, close enough that I could have “accidentally” felt the warmth of the city reflected in his belongings.
With a slow and deliberate caress, Ryan rubbed my leg. However, it was the stranger whose hands I imagined creeping higher up my thigh.
Though I was desperate to peer up and allow myself the decadence of poring over every bit of him, I was afraid to meet his eyes. Afraid the intensity of one look would shatter me. Would I see a future in his eyes or, worse, another missed opportunity? My eyes stayed in the safe-zone—the waist down.
I didn’t much care for shoes, but something about his made me question my stance on the matter. Like his briefcase, his black shoes looked fresh out of the box with Christmas ribbon-laces. The size of his shoe was impressive from this distance. Only a man with considerable height would have feet that big. Perfectly tailored gray slacks showed off sculpted thighs and narrow hips. I lingered at his belt. It was thin, like something he could whip off and easily tie me down with.
My legs opened wide at the thought.
The space between my thighs grew hotter. I bit my bottom lip, silencing myself in an attempt not to cause a scene. Something told me it wouldn’t matter. We’d had Suit’s attention since the moment we’d boarded the subway.
My loose silk shirt was perfect for humid summer nights. I knew my lace bra left little to the imagination, but it was only under Ryan’s seeking hands that I felt completely and utterly exposed. It was the thing of nightmares really. You know the one. Where you’re dreaming that you show up to high school naked, and it isn’t the fact that the entire student body sees you in your birthday suit. It’s the fact that out of all of those people, it’s your crush that seems to notice your nudity. In my dreams his face was a mask of indifference, as if the sight of my naked body was like seeing a nude painting—just something to look at, not lust over. And that was what I felt in the subway car with no one there but the three of us. Suit could see everything, knew of the peach-colored lace—the thin excuse for material concealing my nipples—and knew the sopping mess that lingered in my underwear at the thought of him witnessing my transgressions.
Nipples tweaked to rigidity, I wanted to cover myself. I did. I meant to, but when I closed my eyes and allowed myself to become lost in the overwhelming sensation, all I could see was Suit.
“I hear your need, and I promise I’ll make you feel amazing tonight. Do you believe me?” It was Ryan’s words that spoke to me, but another voice I heard. A voice deeper, richer; a sound that permeated my body and overwhelmed my senses.
“Yes,” I hissed, more in surrender to my active imagination than the promises of what was to come.
“I want to try something new. Something I think you’ll like. Do you trust me?” After months of dating, I found his question a type of foreplay, teasing my psyche of something my body would desire. “What do you think of sharing?”
“It’s a little too late to ask how I feel about sharing, when you’ve spent a good portion of the night drinking from the same cup as me.”
He fell against my shoulder, the crook of my neck acting as a suppressant to his laughter.
“That’s sweet. I wasn’t talking about food, Indigo. I was talking about you.”
From the corner of my eye, I could see Suit hadn’t moved. Not so much as his stance had changed. His feet were still shoulder width apart, straining the perfect razor sharp crease down the center of his pants.
“Should I even ask what that means?” Turning toward Ryan, I thought over all the things that could possibly be shared.
“You see that man over there?” He clasped the back of my
neck, positioning my face in the direction I’d been secretly watching since the moment we boarded.
“I want you to seduce him.”
“I-I don’t think…how am I supposed to? What if he says no?”
Ryan didn’t say anything else. Instead, he waited. Perhaps, he already knew what my answer would be.
With just one look, I knew what I wanted.
As sly as I could, I moved my head ever so slowly so as not to draw attention to the fact I wanted to see what all of Suit looked like. Saying no was still an option. I knew I wouldn’t though. Suit had a pull over my mind since the moment we collapsed through the doors of the subway.
As subtle as possible, I lifted my head enough so my eyes could wander their way up to catch a glimpse of his face. Looking up, it wasn’t a question of if anymore, but how. It only took a look to know that not only would I follow through with Ryan’s request, I would enjoy it. I wanted to because the eyes looking back at me dared me to. In his stare was a challenge.
I was right about his feet. They belonged to a man with a large stature, a man that made the space feel much smaller than it actually was. I imagined looking up to a man that size. At 5’9” it was hard to feel like anyone was much bigger than me, but I felt infinitesimal being in his presence.
Swooped across his forehead and shoved behind his ear, Suit’s sandy brown hair appeared longer than the typical Wall-Streeter. A gray patch in front made me question his age. Was he old enough to be my father? Did he have children? Shit, was he married? I was about to try to seduce someone I knew nothing about. The thought was silly. People don’t typically know those details before they try to pick someone up in the real world anyway, so not much was too different in this scenario aside from the fact that I was going to proposition him to do what? in front of my boyfriend.
“What do I do?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the stranger. At that point Suit and I had both been staring at each other. Do you know how weird it is to stare at someone without the social niceties such as a smile or a wave? I offered a meek smile, something meant to make me feel better, but it only seemed to make me more anxious.
“As much or as little as you want.”
Curious about Ryan’s lack of participation, I asked, “And what do you get out of this?”
“Does it matter? You’ll do it anyway, won’t you?”
“Yes,” I croaked out despite the dread and fear of not only going through with it, but also how this man would respond. What if he said no? What if he said yes? He didn’t seem like the friendliest type, seeing as how he didn’t return my smile, but did it matter?
Needing a break from his stare, I averted my eyes to the chair beside him before returning to his face once more. Lips full and smooth and cheekbones prominent with a strong jaw, he looked sculpted from marble. He could have modeled for Ralph Lauren. I imagined him gracing the covers of a magazine in an oxford button-down shirt with jodhpurs and riding boots. What did his voice sound like? Maybe something foreign and aristocratic? Or did he just look debonair without all of the pomp?
“This is something you kind of have to do on your own, Indy. Go on. I’ll be right here.” The familiarity of his voice was soothing. Grounding, at a time when I felt like I was one move away from slipping into another world, a fantasy.
With sweat-lined palms, I stood and adjusted my shirt. I wanted to appear sexy and demure, confident and poised, not like little red riding hood telling the wolf what big eyes he had. As I got closer I realized the truth in that analogy—Suit had big clover-colored eyes that would almost look translucent if not for the yellow starbursts surrounding his irises. From beneath thick lashes, I watched him as I approached on sure footing. Was that a twist on those full lips? Did he know? Did this happen to him a lot? Was he expecting what I was about to offer?
The worst thing he can say is no. The worst thing he can say is no. The worst thing he can say is no. I chanted the line with every step.
“Hi.” Hi? I cringed inside at how young I sounded. “My boyfriend and I noticed—I mean I noticed you and…” The sound of the conductor announcing the next stop interrupted my words. “I have a while before my exit and wondered if I could keep you company in the meantime.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” His words were velvety smooth, and I couldn’t tell what affected me more, the actual tenor of his voice or that each word flowed like liquid from his lips. He didn’t have an accent as I half-expected, but his voice still held a richness that was captivating.
My cheeks flamed when I realized what he’d said. He knew what I was offering. He wanted me to ask.
“I’ll tell you a secret.” His voice softened and I held my breath, leaning in so as not to miss a word. I would kneel at the pulpit of this man’s lectures just to hear him breathe. “Sometimes all you have to do is be brave enough to ask.” His lips twisted again, his grin filling with expectation.
Once again, I wondered at Suit’s age. He was too self-assured to still be in his twenties. Up close, I guess he was probably mid-thirties. His grooming habits were too spot on, his fashion sense up to date, his physique suggesting he was in his prime. The briefcase indicated he had just left work, which meant he was young enough to still pull late nights. Despite the swatch of gray hair, his five o’clock shadow showed no signs of aging.
His words assuaged my fears, fortifying a strength I didn’t know I had. It also helped that he was a sure thing. “Can I suck your cock for the next six stops?” I licked my lips as I imagined taking him into my mouth. I hadn’t gone down on many guys, but I wanted this. I wanted to be perfect for him. I wanted to bring him down a few pegs—scrub off his Wall Street and bring out the Brooklyn in him.
He cocked his head and I played the words back to myself, checking to see if I’d forgotten anything.
“Please?! May I, please?”
“Please, sir,” he corrected me. “And you’ve got five stops.”
Wednesday, May 6th Continued
My legs quivered beneath me as I lowered myself to my knees. The cold of the subway floor bit into my skin causing me to flinch. Aside from the bulge tenting his pants, Suit looked unaffected by what was happening. Maybe this did happen to him all the time, but I couldn’t even process the explosion of thoughts emphasizing my nervousness. I was about to suck the cock of a stranger that was intimidating in both stature and his obvious status.
With one last glance over my shoulder, I found Ryan standing a little closer. One hand hung from the bar, the other rubbing his erection through the front of his pants. Following the length of Suit’s body, I looked up to find his eyes watching me. Those eyes didn’t miss a thing. Every hair out of place, every wrinkle in the shirt I didn’t bother to iron that morning, every crease in my lips where the last bit of lip gloss still lingered—nothing went unnoticed. It was his focused attention that encouraged me to forge ahead.
My hands fumbled with his belt for a moment before his voice cut me off.
“You’d better hurry. We’re approaching the Brooklyn Bridge.” A smirk accompanied his commentary. Surprisingly, his arrogance made me move faster.
A moment later I had him unbuckled and unzipped, his shaft within my grasp. His size was impressive, almost as intimidating as the man himself. With the first touch of my hands his eyes rolled back in his head. It was the first time he’d taken his eyes off me. I had wanted this since the moment I had stepped on the train, I just hadn’t known it yet.
With a firm hold, I slipped the heat of my mouth over the head of his length, tempting him with the promise of what was to come. I didn’t make him wait long though. My tongue slid across the crown and I closed my eyes, savoring the taste of him. His skin was buttery soft like flower petals, but his smell was much more masculine.
I slid all the way down to his base, licking with a determination to make him explode. When I looked up again, his head was no longer tilted up in desire. Instead, he watched as I took him fully in my mouth.
“Mmmm,” I rele
ased a quiet purr to the underside of his shaft, a moan I was sure he could feel more than hear. The results were instant. Suit thickened in my mouth, throbbing and pulsing between my lips.
The image of him shoving between my legs, his cock hammering in and out, flooded my mind. He would be an extraordinary lover, I could tell. So much was built behind the quiet strength he exuded. Maybe it was his strained silence that turned me on even more than feeling his cock sliding between my lips. The whole scene: me on my knees cock-sucking a stranger was enough to flood my panties.
The subway slowed. The sound of the doors swishing open was the only noise to break the soft sucking sounds filling the air. I didn’t stop. Surely, commuters of New York had seen far more offensive things than my boyfriend whacking off to me sucking another guy’s dick. If not, they sure were in for a surprise.
“Three more stops,” he groaned.
I squeezed my legs together in an attempt to create the much-needed friction to get me off. Repositioning my legs so the heel of my foot sat nestled between the peak of my thighs, I began rocking my body back and forth. I sucked up and down the length of him, pumping my mouth with a need to make us both come in three stops or less.
The doors clicked shut and the subway took off. I clung to Suits’ legs as the speed of the train threatened to pull me away. Once the speed evened out, I returned—one hand to his cock, pumping in time with my mouth, the other clutching his leg, holding me upright. Beneath my palm I could feel the firmness of his muscles, the strength in his corded thighs as his body worked to keep us both from sliding with the force of the train car.
Tears forged in the back of my eyes. Was it the brutal thrust of his hips or my desperation that called upon those tears? I’d never wanted a man to come so much in my life. Never needed the validation of a man’s ejaculation to prove that I was good. All I knew was, I would feel a profound sadness of a missed opportunity if he didn’t finish in the next three stops. There was something about Suit that made me want to please him. Did he have this affect on everyone he came in contact with, or was it just me?
