Get Your Sexy On

by Kimberky Kaye Terry

  ´Why did you come to the

  Kitty?µ she asked.

  He moved their bodies so they were lying facing each other.

  ´Why does any man come to a strip club?µ

  ´Well, yes, I know that. I meant, I hadn·t seen you around before last week. I notice all the regulars.

  At first, I thought you were one of Damian·s associates.µ

  ´Damian, as in the asshole you work for?µ he asked gruffly. Ńo, I wouldn·t call myself a ¶friend·

  of

  your employer.µ His voice sounded grim.

  It was her turn to wait for him to expound on his answer. For the first time in years, Sienna wanted

  to get to know a man beyond the superficial.

  ´My partner and I are here on business. He came to the club a few times with me. You may have

  seen him. He·s the big, bald black guy who sat with me at the table a few times,µ he finally answered.

  Sienna recalled seeing the handsome black man sitting next to him during several of his nightly visits

  to the club.

  ´You said you were an

  investigator? What types of cases do you take on? Do you help³µ Sienna

  stopped herself before she could ask him if he could help her out of her situation.

  Allowing a man to help her out when she was in need was one of the reasons she was currently stuck

  in a situation she didn·t have a clue in hell how to get out of.

  Damn, what the hell was she thinking?

  She would figure it all out, by herself. Rely on no one but herself, and she·d avoid getting hurt.

  ´Help what?µ

  Sienna said nothing. No, it was best to stop all thoughts that she·d found her knight in shining armor.

  She·d given up believing in fairy tales a long time ago.

  She decided to stop herself from wanting something she·d never get and enjoy the moment for what

  it was. To forget who and what she was, and glory in the feel of him, of catering to her sexual needs

  instead.

  Nothing more, nothing less.

  To want anything more³to

  dream that he could help her, be her prince storming the castle and

  bringing down the dragon³was a setup for heartache.

  ´Did you enjoy the way I loved you?µ Mac abruptly changed topics.

  He wanted to press the issue, wanted her to trust him enough to unload her burden, burdens he

  knew she carried like

  deadweight.

  But he·d wait.

  He had every confidence he·d gain her trust before the weekend was over. He planned on keeping

  her, beneath him, for the next forty-eight hours, until he made sure that happened.

  He brought her close and kissed her, grinning in satisfaction against the warm hollow behind her ear

  when he felt the small goose bumps rise against his mouth.

  Úmmm, yes,µ she whispered.

  ´Do you want more?µ He gently tugged her head in order to see her face.

  The light of the moon cast a shadow on her face, one side darkly shadowed, the other illuminated,

  giving her the look of a

  harlequin.

  It was like seeing two sides of the same woman, mirroring the two sides of her personality: the open,

  hedonistic woman who stripped and danced in a seedy club, and the thoughtful one who was shy, unsure

  of herself, yet held a quiet dignity.

  Sin was an enigma.

  She held secrets and he found himself more intrigued by her, the longer he was with her.

  Before the

  night was over, he was

  determined to ferret out her closely held secrets.

  ´Yes,µ she answered, her eyes trained on his.

  He captured one of her perfect nipples in his mouth, tugging on it, laving it with his tongue before

  releasing it to swallow her sweet moan of delight.

  Mac blindly reached behind him and retrieved a second condom from the nightstand table.

  Releasing her lips, but keeping his eyes trained on hers, he ripped the foil with his teeth and sheathed

  himself.

  He pulled her into a straddling position over his body and lowered her down onto his throbbing dick.

  He carefully pushed past the swollen lips of her labia until he was fully embedded inside her tight, slick

  walls.

  ´Good, because I·m not done with you yet.µ Mac grasped her hips, steadying her for the ride.

  After she adjusted her body around the tight fit of him deep inside, he allowed her to set the pace.

  In the moonlit room, he stared up at her, watching the play of emotions on her face, her moans of

  passion, the way she closed her eyes, lips partially opened, lost in the feel of their bodies joined.

  His balls grew heavy, tingling.

  Damn. He could come just from looking at her ride him. His jaw tightened as he mentally tried to gain

  control.

  Her slick walls clamped down on him, her cream saturated his shaft as she moved.

  She bounced and rolled her ass, gyrating along his dick, making him lose his mind.

  ´God, you feel good! So damn tight. So juicy.µ His hands grasped her hips tightly.

  ´You feel just as good. Hard and thick.µ She was panting. Í can barely move.µ

  ´You·re doing a damn good job.µ

  He laughed roughly.

  A sensual smile graced her full lips while she rode him. Her moves were at first careful, painfully slow.

  Light strokes of slick heat massaged his shaft. Her inner walls gripped him, milking him.

  Like a thousand feathers

  caressing his dick.

  Sweat broke out on Mac·s

  forehead.

  He sat up, grabbed her round, firm buttocks, and ground their bodies together, smashing his pelvis

  against hers, stroking into her heat in hard-driving thrusts.

  She cried out, wrapped her arms around his neck, and rotated her hips, fucking him as desperately as

  he fucked her. Mac felt the tingling sensation of his cum swelling his balls.

  His climax was close, building to a crescendo, one he couldn·t hold back for much longer. He didn·t

  want to come without her, though.

  He inserted his hand between their bodies, found the hard nub of her clit, and used her own sweet

  juices to spread over the blood-filled nub.

  He lightly pinched her plump clit, massaged her steadily, and covered her mouth with his. He kissed

  her as he rocked into her, back and forth like a seesaw, while plunging his tongue deep into her mouth,

  stroking her all the way to the back of her throat.

  She snatched her mouth away from his, flung her head back, and screamed. Her body jerked in hard

  spasms as she came, and Mac was finally able to surrender to the pleasure her body had given his.

  Violent pleasure washed over him, completely destroying him³leaving him open,

  vulnerable, for a

  small space in time. Even as he released deep inside her, he felt both renewed and annihilated by their

  physical bond.

  Once he·d completed his

  orgasm, he fell back on the bed, taking her with him.

  Her groan was a mixture

  between a satisfied sigh and soft laugh. ´That was amazing.µ

  Her head lolled off his chest, landing on a pillow beside his head, her soft breasts

  cushioning his

  chest.

  She reached over and pressed a kiss directly to the center of his chest, above his heart.

  ´Thank you,µ she whispered, placing her hand where she·d kissed him.

  Mac·s gaze fell on her face. She looked relaxed. Young and innocent.

  Her passion-reddened full lips were softly parted, light breaths of air whispering against the top of his<
br />
  arms. Her eyes were closed, the thick lashes fanning her cheeks.

  So innocent.

  Mac stared up at the ceiling, gathered her close, and allowed the moment to overtake him.

  Closing his

  eyes, he went to sleep.

  12

  Ć ome on, Sin, you know this is what you want. It was good before. It can be good again.µ

  ´Please«just go away. I told you to leave me alone!µ

  ´You want it³µ

  Í don·t want it or you, Damian!µ

  Sienna yelled. ´Don·t you understand? That was a long time ago. Get away from me! I work for you at the club. I·m not your personal whore.µ She wrenched herself away from him and ran toward the door. She had gotten only a few feet away when she heard her skirt rip.

  Óne more time, for old times·

  sake. Soon you·ll belong to him.

  But until then, I think I should get one last sample of the goods, don·t you?µ He roughly turned her around and pinned

  her against the door.

  ´What are you talking about?µ

  He ignored her, kept a punishing hold on her upper body with one hand, the other he

  used to unzip his slacks and shove them far enough down to release his cock.

  Sienna screamed, kicking and punching him, desperately trying to get away when he she

  felt the end of his penis brush against her naked thighs.

  ´Before we do that, why don·t you show me what you can do with those sinful lips of yours. I·ve been dying to feel them wrapped around my dick.

  You never would do that for me, before. This may be my last chance.µ

  He laughed cruelly and grasped her by the shoulders, trying to shove her down to her

  knees. She struggled and

  fought, her nails scoring down his face.

  Ĺet me go. Damn it! I swear to God, I·m leaving this place, Damian!µ Sienna pushed him away, using all of her strength.

  Damian stumbled back, wiping the trickle of blood running down his face.

  He moved as though to grab her.

  Í mean it. I·ll leave,µ she threatened, her chest heaving with her exertions.

  He opened his mouth to speak, when his phone rang. ´Don·t move.µ He kept his eyes on hers as he picked up the phone.

  Seconds later, his body snapped to attention, his hand whitened around the knuckles as

  his grip tightened on the phone.

  He placed his hand over the mouthpiece and hissed, ´Get back to work.µ

  Whoever was on the other end of the phone had put the fear of God into Damian. Enough

  so that his attempt to screw her was no longer paramount in his mind.

  She silently thanked the

  anonymous person and ran out of the office.

  Sienna struggled even as she knew she was in the thrall of a dream. She struggled against sleep,

  fighting to wake up, to get out of the clutches of her dream. With a wrenching cry, she sat up in bed,

  sweat pouring down her face, heat flaming her skin.

  She inhaled deeply and released the pent-up air, her body slumping back against the headboard.

  Damn. Although she·d banished the memory of Damian·s attempt to force her to have sex with him

  again, weeks ago, it was there in her mind.

  No doubt she·d dreamt it

  because of all the drama she·d gone through last night.

  As she took another fortifying breath of air, she caught the delicious scent of food and looked around.

  Across the room, the blinds were closed, yet the morning stream of sun, filtering past both blinds and

  the heavy curtains, spilled into the room.

  The heavy aroma of frying bacon assaulted her nose, and her stomach grumbled, reminding her that

  it had been nearly a day since she·d last eaten. She raised her body from the bed, twisted her spine, and

  released a groan. She flipped her legs over the side of the bed and gingerly sat up, the

  soreness between

  her thighs from last night·s excess making her wince.

  It had been the early hours of the morning when finally, completely sated and unable to move, she·d

  fallen asleep in front of Mac, his hard body spooning against hers tightly.

  Óh God.µ She took a deep

  breath.

  Erotic images of their bodies tangled, hot and sweaty, of Mac working her body all night long, were

  vivid in her mind, erasing the lingering memory of last night·s nightmare.

  Damn, I need to leave all that alone. It was one night. And one night only. Sienna shied

  away from the memory of his fine body draped over hers as he made love to her in ways she·d never

  experienced.

  She also forced away the

  memory of his intense,

  unwavering gaze as their eyes locked while he

  stroked into her with single-minded determination«.

  Standing, she searched in vain for her clothes, and unable to find anything, she picked up Mac·s

  discarded T-shirt and pulled it over her body, the ends fanning her thighs.

  She walked over to the large mirror mounted to the wall above the large chest and scrutinized

  herself.

  Her hair was a hot mess, all over her head, seriously giving new meaning to ´bed head,µ she thought

  in disgust.

  Picking up the small wire brush set on the chest, she pulled it through her hair, straightening some of

  her curls, only making it look more like the proverbial rat·s nest.

  Í·d better stop while I·m ahead,µ she murmured,

  grimacing at her reflection, her natural curls

  springing back within seconds.

  After fingering her hair one final time, Sienna turned away from the mirror and followed the smells

  down the stairs toward the kitchen.

  She came to a stop inside the doorway, an unknowing smile on her face. Mac stood in front of the

  oven, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, partially open, with a spatula in his hand, turning food in the

  large cast-iron skillet.

  Her gaze trailed over him from the top of his spiked hair, disheveled from sleep, down over his

  exposed, muscular chest, and down to his large bare feet.

  She cleared her throat. Śmells delicious. Is there room at the table for me?µ

  Her voice startled him. Mac jumped back as the sizzling butter in the pan popped. He avoided the

  splatter on his bare chest, just in time. After turning off the burner and sliding the omelet onto a plate, he

  turned around to face her.

  Óf course, have a seat,µ he said, his eyes greedily drinking in the sight of her, starting at her bare

  feet, with their brightly painted pink toes, and traveling up her body. His gaze paused at the dark thatch of

  hair shadowed behind his shirt, up to her pointy nipples stabbing at the thin fabric of his T-shirt.

  Í·m sorry, I couldn·t find my clothes³µ

  Ńo, that·s fine. You look better in it than I do,µ he said with pure male appreciation. ´Have a seat.

  I·ll

  have this ready in no time.µ With a smile, she walked over to the bar stool and hopped onto the seat,

  careful to keep the ends of the T-shirt tucked under her bottom.

  Mac turned away so she

  wouldn·t see his grin after seeing the faint blush across her bronze skin when

  she caught him eyeing her plump, naked cheeks before she·d pulled down the shirt.

  She continued to amaze him with her moments of schoolgirl shyness.

  Í didn·t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful sleeping.

  Decided I·d better get the hell out of

  there, before my chivalry took a flying leap, and I picked up where we left off last night.µ

  Mac turned back around to walk toward her, p
late in hand, and caught the blush increase, staining her

  cheeks a healthy rosy color. He placed the food and silverware in front of her.

  Śmells great! I·m starved.µ

  ´What do you want to drink? Got OJ and milk,µ he said after opening the refrigerator door and pulling

  out the choices. Í have coffee brewing as well.µ He nodded his head toward the percolating coffeepot.

  Í·ll take the juice. When the coffee·s ready, I·d like a cup of that as well. I·m not quite human before

  my morning cup. Although, even coffee won·t help the way I look this morning.µ She ran a hand over her

  short, curly hair.

  Í don·t think it would matter what time of day it was, you·d still be beautiful.µ

  Sienna made no comment.

  Instead, picking up her fork and piercing a bit of the omelet, she took a

  healthy bite and closed her eyes.

  Úmmm, this is good!µ she said, and snapped her eyes open when his rusty-sounding laugh rang out.

  ´You say that like you·re surprised. I cooked in the army and for my kid sister growing up.µ

  Í wasn·t expecting it to be so good,µ she admitted sheepishly.

  His finger captured a bit of cheese, caught in the corner of her lip. When he put his finger to his

  mouth, licking off the cheese, Sienna refrained from groaning out loud.

  This man was lethal, she

  thought.

  Ín basic training, in the army, I did plenty of KP duties.µ

  ´KP?µ

  ´Kitchen patrol,µ he laughed.

  Óh.µ Sienna smiled in return.

  ´You should do that more.µ

  ´KP?µ

  Ńo, laugh. I like your laugh.µ

  ´Thank you.µ

  They ate in companionable silence before he spoke again. Í

  raised my sister. I got plenty of experience cooking for her.µ

  Sienna paused, midchew. ´What happened to your parents?µ she asked cautiously, swallowing the last

  bit of egg and taking a sip of the orange juice.