Knocking Boots

by Willow Winters

  “We don’t need to talk about my past, sweetheart,” he whispers, cupping my jaw with a hand.

  He kisses me again. I can feel people looking at us. Charlie’s family is getting a hell of a show. Still, when he touches me, I feel alive, vibrant. I feel loved and it’s not fair. It’s not fair because now more than ever I don’t think Charlie will ever give his heart away. Not to me. But he has mine and it hurts for us.

  I groan quietly when Charlie breaks away to kiss my neck. Lightning bolts shoot through my body at the touch of his lips against my skin.

  Then he leans down to whisper in my ear. “Come with me…”

  He takes my hand and leads me from the dance floor.

  Charlie

  Subtle doesn’t suit me but I try to be as subtle as possible as I weave through the family and friends in the ballroom, dragging Grace behind me. She’s holding onto my hand with both of hers, just trying to keep up.

  I smile at my aunt sitting at a table close to the dance floor, and give her a small wave, pretending not to see her gesture me over to talk to her.

  Grace needs me right now, and I’m not stopping until she’s better.

  Specifically, until I get her off and make damn sure she knows she’s mine and I’m hers.

  The music and loud sounds of the ballroom fade as I lead Grace through the double doors and down the hallway. Out here, she pulls herself closer to me and I slow my steps to wrap my arm around her waist, looking for somewhere to go for a bit of privacy.

  “Where are we going?” Grace asks, her curves pressing against my body as she looks at me with those beautiful doe eyes full of questions.

  I catch sight of the coat check down the hall and to the right, and a wicked smile curves my lips up.

  Lowering my head to her ear, I whisper, “I need to take care of you.”

  I don’t wait for her to respond. She nearly stumbles, although she lets out a small laugh when she does, as I pull her along, opening the half door and walking away from the counter and to the back where there are rows and rows of coats.

  “What in the hell?” she says, but her voice is playful. The smile on her face is genuine and I love it. That’s the smile that should have been with her all damn day. With one foot after the other, I walk her backwards in between the two rows of coats and all the way to the back. The light’s obstructed from the hanging linens, so it’s dim, but I can still see the blush on her cheeks.

  “Charlie, you are crazy if you think-” I cut her off, pressing my lips against hers and cupping the back of her head. She doesn’t protest, but instead parts her lips and lets me in.

  Deepening the kiss, my tongue strokes against hers as our warm breaths mingle. And when I break the kiss, she’s breathless, the fight in her gone.

  “Crazy if what?” I ask her, daring her to give me that lip of hers.

  She sags against the wall, breathing heavy, her lips still parted. “To think I’m going to let you…” she trails off and licks her lips.

  “Let me what?” I lean closer to her, resting my forehead on hers and staring into her eyes, “Let me get you off?”

  Her eyes spark, and she doesn’t answer.

  I crouch down, grabbing the hem of her dress, and then slowly stand, pulling it up. She holds my gaze as I hitch it around her hips.

  “You wet right now?” I murmur the question. She bites her lip, and her eyes dart behind me. If my hand wasn’t inches away from her, I bet she’d lie to me.

  My fingertips gently touch the seams to her panties. I don’t feel enough of her heat, so I push them aside, holding those blue eyes to mine and gently pushing my fingers into her hot entrance.

  She’s soaking wet.

  She visibly swallows, her head falling back against the wall, as I brush my fingers up to her clit, moving the moisture there.

  “You think it’d be crazy?” I ask her.

  She licks her lips, her breathing picking up and then shakes her head no.

  I narrow my eyes and lean forward, “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

  Even without much light, I catch sight of her blush and then she looks away. I wait for her. Letting her choose this. Letting her choose me.

  My fingers trail back down to her entrance and back up to her clit, a shudder running through her body.

  “Please,” she moans into the air, her back bowing as she tries to grind her pussy into my hand. I smile down at her. “Please what?”

  “Please…” she hesitates to answer as her eyes dart behind me again. I look over my shoulder, but no one’s there.

  “I’m not going to let anyone see,” I tell her firmly. If that’s what she’s scared about, we’ll be alright. We’re far enough away that no one’s going to catch us and if they come back here, I’ll be blocking their view.

  Her blue eyes flick to mine. “Please get me off.”

  My dick turns to stone at her asking me that. I can feel my zipper against my dick and I’m desperate to readjust it, but I can’t move my hand away from her pussy.

  “Anything for you,” I tell her in an even, sincere tone. How it’s not strained, I don’t know.

  “Mmm,” she moans softly, closing her eyes as I push my fingers deep inside of her. I push them in and out, loving her warmth and the way she greedily rocks her hips, wanting more. I turn to look over my shoulder once more, just to make sure we’re alone.

  When I look back at her, her eyes are on me, her head lazily resting against the wall. Her body sways as I pump faster, brushing against her sensitive bundle of nerves each time, making her breathing come faster as she loses her composure.

  “I think it would be unbelievable for us to break up right after the wedding,” I whisper into her ear, taking her off guard. I’m not a fucking idiot. That has to be what’s going through her worried mind. I need to convince her to stay… just a little longer. I don’t know if I’ll ever get my fill of her, but I’m not going to let her walk away the second she has a chance.

  She moans, her eyes going half-lidded. I know she can hear me.

  I grind the palm of my hand against her clit. “You should stay with me a little longer.” Her breathing comes in frantically as I pick up the pace. She’s close, so close. I’m not letting her get off until she agrees though.

  Her neck lolls to the side, her cheek pressed against the cold wall as I slip my fingers into her hot pussy and stroke that bundle of nerves. Her eyes pop open, and she covers her mouth with her hand.

  “Tell me you’ll come by the bar and keep up appearances.” I don’t know how I get the words out as I work her pussy.

  Her head whips back and slams against the wall. “Yes,” she calls out as softly as she can, given her current state, and I almost think it’s from getting off, but she’s not there yet. I pause my movements and she turns her head to look at me, her hands moving to my wrist with a desperate look on her face.

  “Yes, what?” I ask her.

  She swallows thickly and answers in a whisper, “I’ll stay with you-”

  I cut her off with a demanding kiss before she says anything else and pump my fingers into her pussy. My palm goes flat against her clit, still over her panties that are pushed to the side. I’m ruthless and rough as she clings to me. She looks paralyzed as her mouth opens and closes and she desperately tries not to cry out.

  The moment she comes, her body goes still, tensing as her pussy tightens and her breath hitches. I kiss her neck, still stroking my fingers against her front wall to make her pleasure last. It’s only when her body finally sags against the wall that I pull my fingers out of her.

  I let her dress fall around her trembling thighs, but I’m not done with her. I didn’t intend to fuck her just yet, but the sight of her coming undone from my touch is making me go crazy.

  I need her just as much as she needs me.

  “I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re going to be quiet.” I stare into her eyes, willing her to agree. Her eyes dart to the entrance behind us as she licks her lips and her legs sci
ssor. I know this turns her on just as much as it does me. She holds my gaze and then nods, her lips turning up into a devilish smile.

  “A quickie?” she asks and it makes me laugh, low and rough.

  “If that’s what you want to call it,” I tell her, reaching for my back pocket out of instinct.

  It’s only then that I realize I don’t have a condom.

  For a second, a split second, the idea of knocking her up comes to mind. Pretending it’s an accident. She says she can’t get pregnant, but fuck that, I can at least try my damnedest.

  The thought of her swollen with my baby and tied to me only makes my dick harder. I don’t break eye contact as I unzip my pants and shove them down to fall around my ankles.

  “Turn around,” I give her the command and she doesn’t object, still lost in the pleasure I gave her. I hike her dress up, letting my fingers trail along her soft skin and then pull her panties down. I don’t miss how damp they are from her getting off.

  I take a moment to look at her tight ass and cup her pussy. She’s so hot and wet. So ready for me. She’s always ready for me.

  Bracing a hand on the wall next to her, I push my dick between her folds, feeling her tight walls wrapping around my dick and pulling me in. Fuck. She feels like heaven. As I let my forehead fall to the back of her neck, groaning from how good she feels, her hand splays on top of mine and then grips me. I have to open my eyes and pull back to kiss her. But I’m struck by the expression on her face. It's a look of utter rapture.

  I move slowly, deeper, filling her inch by inch. And the deeper I go, the more her lips part until they make a perfect “O” when I’m buried deep inside of her.

  This is how she should always be. Lost in pleasure.

  I don’t waste any time. We’ve already been gone too long for our absence to go unnoticed. I pull back slightly, just a few inches and then fuck her pussy so hard and rough that she cries out.

  I’m quick to silence her, turning her head to me and pressing my lips to hers. I pull back, but leave my face close to hers, our warm breath combining and heating with the intensity I feel between us.

  She moans my name as her head thrashes.

  I slam my dick into her, all the way to the hilt, feeling her lush ass jiggle as I pump my hips over and over again. My breathing comes in frantically as I feel her tighten around my length. Yes! Come for me again. I need to feel her get off and watch her as she’s consumed with pleasure.

  Leaning in closer to her, I whisper in her ear, “Give it to me,” and thrust into her again. Her body jolts against the wall as her face scrunches and her mouth parts with a small gasp. “Come for me,” I breathe against her slender neck, her body shuddering with a chill and then I bury myself deep inside of her.

  Her eyes open as her pussy flutters and her fingernails dig into my hand. She lets out a silent scream, her head falling back against my shoulder as her orgasm rips through her.

  It’s all I needed. I race for my own release, pistoning my hips and riding through her pleasure. A rough groan low in my throat leaves me as I pound into her tight pussy over and over until a wave of pleasure rocks through me, curling my toes and leaving me out of breath. My dick pulses as I shove myself as deep as I can inside of her, nearly picking her up off the floor.

  She whimpers, and I open my eyes as thick spurts of cum fill her, but there’s only pleasure on her face.

  I want to keep her, so I’ll give her what she wants. I have the hotel room tonight with her and I’ll do everything I can. Something to tie her to me. She never told me what she wanted from this drunken deal. But I can give her something I know she’s after.

  A baby.

  Grace

  It’s quiet in the area at work as I sit by myself, my head in the clouds. I’m peeling a tangerine, but not really paying any attention to it.

  My mind is on Charlie. More specifically, on the deal we had. I fulfilled my end, playing Charlie’s pretty girlfriend. And Charlie…

  Well, let’s just say that his end of the bargain was met when he made me orgasm three times in a row. A blush hits my cheeks just thinking about it. That man does things to me. I’ve completely fallen for him. Even though I know I shouldn’t have, I can’t bring myself to regret it.

  A piece of the tangerine finds its way into my mouth as I stare absently at some poster on the wall.

  So I guess that since we've both held up our ends of the bargain, it’s over even though he did ask me to stay a little longer for appearances. I don’t want to play games anymore, and that’s all this is to him. It’s fun and a good time. I agree with all that. But if that’s all this is, I need to salvage what’s left of my heart.

  Showing up at the bar, waiting for him to call it quits is just torture. He’s just stringing me along. I sit back and sigh. I don’t want it to be over. I want anything but that, really. I want a commitment. I want more with him.

  And that’s my fault.

  Facing him and asking for more is only going to leave me alone and brokenhearted even sooner. So my choices are:

  Rip that band aid off, asking for more and having him end it like I know he will.

  I can play along for a little while, but that only makes me more pathetic and it’s only going to hurt that much worse.

  As I stand up, rolling my eyes, I throw the peel of the tangerine in the trash and shove each section in one by one.

  Sarah, my immediate boss, sticks her head in the break room. She’s redheaded like me and big-boned, but she always dresses like she’s on an Italian runway. In short, she’s gorgeous. Today she’s wearing a black boat neck dress that looks like it cost a million dollars from the way it flatters her frame.

  “Hey, Grace.” She’s cheery as always as she steps into the room.

  “Hey,” I greet her with a forced smile. I shouldn’t feel bad for my afternoon break, everyone takes them. Still, I feel the need to defend myself. “I’m just on my way back to work.”

  “Do you have a minute? Jack and I would like to talk to you in his office.”

  I stare at her. Jack Holt is one of the partners at our firm. I’ve literally only talked to him at Christmas, when he’s handing out holiday bonus checks. My heartbeat picks up with anxiety at the thought of having a meeting with him.

  I rack my brain to figure out what he could possibly want to talk to me about. A new project? But no, he isn’t usually involved on that level.

  This is looking really, really bad. I swallow the lump in my throat, searching Sarah’s face for a clue, but there’s nothing there.

  “Uhh… sure.” My forced smile falls but I do my best to keep it in place.

  “It’s nothing bad. Stop looking like I’m taking you to see the grim reaper,” Sarah jokes and I laugh in return but only because it’s obligatory. “Come on.”

  Does being fired count as bad? I wonder, trying to calm down. The last of my tangerine gets tossed in the trash and I follow Sarah across the main room where everybody works. Unlike me, most of the employees don’t put their heads down while they work, so a few eyes follow me across the room. I glimpse Diane trying to make eye contact with me, but I avoid it. I haven’t talked to her since the wedding… which she didn’t attend.

  Sarah leads me to a corner office, where she pauses to knock on the door. I fidget, wiping my hands off on my shirt and trying to stay calm. Sarah wouldn’t lie to me.

  “Come in,” Jack calls through the door and we enter, my legs feeling like jello. Sarah shuts the door behind me, increasing my paranoia that I’m about to be fired.

  “Grace, hi,” Jack says, standing up from behind his large espresso desk that’s littered with paperwork. He’s in his fifties, well dressed, and tanned as a nut from long days on his yacht. “Please sit,” he gestures to one of two chairs in front of his desk.

  I glance at Sarah and pick a chair. Sarah sits in the other one, crossing her legs and smiling. Jack settles himself back behind his desk, looking serious.

  My heart thumps wildly. I’ve
never been fired before. My hands are clammy and I try to think of something to say, but I don’t trust my voice.

  “So Grace, I asked Sarah to recommend someone to run the project desk, keep the designers on task and make sure what they produce is in line with the clients’ branding. She recommended you.”

  Blinking several times, all of them a little too fast, I stare at my boss for a second, processing his words, then look at Sarah. “She did?”

  “Apparently you… let’s see here,” he says, picking up a piece of paper off his desk. He starts to read. “Quote - She works ten times harder than anyone else. If everyone was as dedicated to customer satisfaction and producing great artwork, we would be far more successful. You seem to have an eye for branding not just design.” The paper falls with a flutter as he adds, “There’s a critical difference and not everyone has it.”

  “I… I don’t know what to say,” I manage, my throat feeling dry but in a good way. I manage to answer Jack, although my throat feels tight. “Thank you for noticing.”

  “Don’t thank me. Thank Sarah,” Jack says. “Now the promotion comes with a big bump in pay, but ten people working directly below you. You’ll be overseeing campaigns and critiquing. You also get final say and can modify and mold designs how you see fit. Can you handle that?”

  “I… yes,” I say, nodding vigorously. “Absolutely I can.” Oh my gosh. I didn’t even consider a promotion. A bonus yes, a raise in pay, heck yes, I’ll take that any day.

  “Alright! Well, Sarah will see that the contract is on your desk by Monday to sign. Thank you for your hard work,” Jack says, standing and offering me a handshake.

  With the meeting apparently over, I stand and shake his hand, trying not to let him see that I’m trembling. It’s an excited tremble. Sarah smiles at me on the way out. I don’t know how I’m even walking, I’m so stunned. Once the door is closed behind us, I let out a breath.

  “I can’t say thank you enough,” I confess to Sarah.