Hold On

by Dani Wyatt

I get lost in the thoughts of them and the last few years that were so hard for us all.

  My text tone goes off, making me jump.

  Bethany: Okay...call me when you get home. I got free tickets to the Cannery show tonight if you want to go.

  Me: Okay. I will.

  I’m not sure how Bethany and I became such firm friends over the last year since I joined the agency; she is way more of an extrovert than I am.

  The idea of going to concert at a bar is just not me—being at home alone with a good book is far more my style, even with the dripping faucets and flickering lights.

  Our choices of nightlife may not be the same, but still it’s nice to have someone I can call a best friend for the first time, and even better that we work together, too, especially when things at work could be a whole lot worse without her there to have my back.

  The agency, Ruff & Purr, was bought out a little over a month ago by some conglomerate, and they brought in a guy, Carver Daniels, to run our location. Last week he came by our offices and met with the staff to introduce himself, talking about the changes he was going to make and assuring everyone their jobs were secure.

  The only problem was, when the staff meeting wrapped up, he came over and asked me to come to his office. After a few minutes of him telling me how amazing he is, he asked me to have dinner with him that evening.

  It all felt so awkward I didn’t know what to do, so I mumbled something about having plans and bolted out of the office. Ever since then, he’s been picking apart anything and everything I do. I’m sure he’d like to find something he can hold over me, but with Beth on my side, I’m hoping that’s unlikely.

  Beth and I say our goodbyes, and I sit down next to Buddha, kissing and scratching him for another fifteen minutes, lost in the fantasy of Marshall doing the same thing. My lips, touching somewhere maybe his have touched, but I know this is as close to kissing him as I will ever get.

  I finish writing up my visit notes on the app on my phone, then look around one last time.

  I know I should leave right away. I’ve been here too long already. It’s coming up on eleven o’clock, and I’m tired. But a devious thought keeps nagging me.

  A devil on my shoulder is whispering in my ear.

  I can’t.

  I shouldn’t.

  But no one will ever know, so maybe it’s okay, right? Just this once, I mean.

  I want to make sure no one will know, so I go outside, pull my car into the garage and set the security code so it will seem like I’ve left.

  Then I tiptoe down the hall, opening the doors along the way until I find it: the one that has my heart pumping hard, making me feel like I’ve been holding my breath too long.

  It’s his room and I’m going in.

  Three

  Marshall

  THE CLOCK IN THE AUDI reads three a.m. and I should be exhausted, but I’m as awake as I’ve ever been.

  The entire flight home, I fought the urge to relieve some of the tension she’s causing by jerking off in the cramped lavatory. It didn’t feel right. My hand and I are well acquainted, seeing as I haven’t even had a date in probably five years. But it’s different now. The next time I cum, it’s going to be with her.

  On her.

  Inside her.

  Because she already owns my dick, and before too long I’m going to own all of her.

  I park at the front door of the house, not bothering to pull into the garage and make my way inside. As I'm punching my security code into the keypad at the door, my phone rings, and I pull it out to see it’s Connor again, but I don’t have time right now. He’s called and texted me ten times since I bolted, and I know I’ll have to deal with it, but not now.

  Rushing out of the meeting was way out of character for me. He has every right to be pissed. But in my lust seared brain, that’s not what’s important. What’s important is getting things ready, so when she arrives in the morning, she understands what’s about to change in her life.

  Inside the front door, I turn off my phone and set it on the console, leaving everything else but thoughts of her behind me for now. Business will wait. Or it won’t. I have enough money to last me ten lifetimes, and besides, all the success I’ve chased over the years now seems unimportant.

  The house feels colder, empty, and even as I hear Buddha snoring from the living room, everything feels off.

  I want her here, and I’ll do anything to make it happen. I know she’s scheduled to come back early tomorrow and take care of Buddha...little does she know, she’ll also be taking care of me.

  Walking through the kitchen, I lean down and give Buddha a scratch. He’s the soundest-sleeping dog I’ve ever known. It’s a good thing I have an incredible security system because if he’s asleep, a marching band could break in and steal me blind and he’d keep snoring away. He looks perfectly happy and cozy on the dog bed, so I decide to take a shower and grab a couple hours of sleep.

  The anticipation of seeing Emmy in the morning has my muscles drawn tight, and thoughts of throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her to my bed have been playing on repeat in my head.

  I set my carryon and laptop bag down in the hallway and march toward my bedroom. Just outside the door, when I put my hand on the knob, something twitches inside of me.

  There’s a scent. A vibration in the air that makes me look around, feeling someone is here.

  I shake my head. Come on, Marshall, keep it together. Swallowing hard, I open my bedroom door.

  What I see shakes me to my core, and deep in my chest a single word rumbles out of me before I can stop it.

  "Mine."

  She’s here.

  In my bed.

  Her red hair falls in waves over the white pillow as she lies on her side. Her hands pressed together, as though in prayer, just in front of her nose, and her body is curved under the covers, making my mouth water.

  I’m pretty sure she’s naked because her clothes are folded on the corner of the bed. Jesus, give me strength.

  She sighs, and I silently close the door, wanting there to be a barrier to any potential exit while my heartbeat thunders in my ears.

  The room is cool, the A/C keeping up with the summer’s sultry heat outside, and goosebumps form on my skin. I want her supple body next to mine, warming me. I want to let this sweet young girl know the effect she has had on me in less than twenty-four hours.

  I tread softly to the chair in the corner and settle in, my cock painfully hard as I take in her bare shoulders, telling me there’s nothing between her flawless ivory skin and my sheets. I'm jealous of the fabric that touches her.

  She moans softly and rolls onto her back, the sheet falling away to expose the ripe swell of two perfect breasts with deep pink nipples that call for my mouth. She looks so innocent on the white bedding, and something inside me screams that I’m alive for the first time, finding my place and my purpose in this sweet young thing who has no clue the depth of my depraved thoughts about her.

  Silver light from the window illuminates her face while I sit in the darkness. I hear her breathing, holding my own as her eyes flutter open and stare at the ceiling, one hand brushing some errant hair from her face.

  I watch as both hands run across her chest, fingers tracing around the hardened peaks of her full tits, and I feel the cum begin to leak out of the tip of my cock, wanting to feel her perfect silk warmth wrap around me.

  Her eyes close again and she presses her head back into the pillow as her knees bend upward, tenting the white fabric. One hand caresses her breast while the other dips back under the sheet, her knees widening as I fight back the growl that catches in my chest.

  As her hand moves between her legs, the moonlight shimmers on her flawless face, the sight of it hitting me like a punch to the chest.

  My balls and cock throb unlike anything I’ve felt before. Her full, pink lips fall open as her back arches upward, knees falling farther apart.

  When her hand leaves her breast and she rips the sheet
off her body, exposing every inch of her perfection, I nearly come out of my seat. Every cell in my body is screaming for me to release my cock and slip inside her here in the dark before she knows what’s happening—to make her mine completely.

  Instead, I’m mesmerized, watching her pleasure herself. Wondering what she’s thinking about.

  Why she’s here in my bed.

  Because she’s meant to be mine, I tell myself. Until this moment, I didn’t realize I’d waited my whole life for her.

  For this angel to swoop in and show me everything I’ve always wanted but never knew before she showed up on my doorstep.

  I watch her lying there, her hand working her bare pussy, and I hear the sound of her damp, soft flesh as a finger disappears inside that wet heaven.

  The scent of her sex grabs me by the throat and refuses to let go, my cock aching as I feel cum dripping down, soaking my underwear. Every moment is more perfect than the last, and my restraint weakens by the second.

  The urge to take her is nearly impossible to bear. I want to taste her fingers, her lips, then her other lips. As her pace quickens, her noises nearly drive me to madness.

  Possessive anger grips me at the thought she could be imagining anyone else but me right now. I remember her stepping inside the house yesterday, remember shaking her hand, her impossibly soft skin against mine as our eyes connected and a voice inside my head screamed for more.

  Since that moment, all the dreams of her have pushed away everything else in my life that before seemed so important.

  Business.

  Money.

  Making the deal.

  Increasing my bottom line.

  Winning.

  None of it will ever be more of a priority than her. For the first time in my life, I understand what it means to put someone before everything else.

  I want to protect her in a way so complete that anyone who even thought of hurting her would meet a fate so cruel even the devil would be impressed.

  Her fingers move upward and circle her clit, her eyes shut tight. I’m a filthy predator, sitting here watching her from the dark corner of my bedroom. Heat engulfs me as her fingers move faster and faster, her other hand squeezing the flesh of her tit as her head whips back and forth on the pillow.

  She’s close, I can hear it. See it. And yes, smell it. My own urge nearly doubles me over when suddenly her mouth opens and a single word slips out, sealing her fate for all time.

  “Marshall...”

  Four

  Emmy

  MY ORGASM HITS ME LIKE a thunderclap, my mind wrapped in the fantasy of Marshall on top of me, his cock buried deep. He’s telling me he can’t stop. Telling me he’s cumming inside me, grunting and telling me he wants me with him.

  Now.

  And forever.

  Fuck.

  My body convulses as the explosion starts at the bottoms of my feet racing upward, and I feel the shower of wetness squirt from me. I’ve managed to bring myself to orgasm a few times over the years, but never like this.

  Not this feeling.

  Not this reaction.

  My mind spins, and I hear my own noises echoing around the room. Panting, I finally have the realization that I’ve just soaked the bed of a client.

  Jeez...

  It’s bad enough I took the risk and slipped in here to begin with. Wanting to sleep where he sleeps. To feel the same sheets he sleeps on against my body. Wanting to pretend that this could be my life.

  The horror of what I’ve done washes over me, and I squeeze my eyes shut, bringing my hand from my chest to squeeze my temples, trying to figure out just what I’m doing. Where is the practical, nothing-special, good girl I was before I walked into this house yesterday morning? Before I met the man who seems to have changed me on a genetic level into this wanton, risk-taking trollop?

  Still, I can’t help but imagine lying here with him night after night. I think of cooking dinner, wearing a lacy apron and tripping over Buddha as I set the table and light the candles. It’s all silly girl fantasy, I know, but somehow, deep down, it feels so right, almost like it’s a memory instead of a dream.

  The air blowing from the vents makes me shiver as my body relaxes and starts to come down from the throttling orgasm. Marshall’s bedroom is enormous, and I wonder why one person needs so much space, but even in the cool air, there is a warmth about it.

  I open my eyes and reach down, pulling the bedding over my chilled body and telling myself I will sleep a couple hours, then get up and wash the bedding, remake the bed and never, ever do this again—or tell anyone what I did.

  It will be a one-time thing. One reckless moment that should have never—

  “I’m here.” The voice sends my heart racing as I yelp and pull the sheets around me. I scramble back against the headboard, my head slamming against the wall as fear-ignited heat replaces the former chill.

  My head snaps to the corner of the room, where I see a figure stand from his place in the chair, horror crowding out any of the lingering fantasy.

  “Oh my god!” I scream in terror as the enormous silhouette becomes more evident in the moonlight from the window, and I realize who it is. “What are you doing here?” I shudder, pulling pillows in front of me as a barricade, though to what I’m not sure.

  “This is my house. Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

  “I guess... But you sat there and watched me? That’s not right.” I’m shaking all over wishing somehow the bed would swallow me up and take away the humiliation of the moment.

  “Felt right to me. As I imagine you doing what you just did in my bed felt right to you.”

  He steps around to the side of the bed where I’m huddled and flicks on the light on the nightstand, making me squint. When my eyes finally adjust, I dare look up and see him watching me with wildness in his eyes.

  Unable to look him in the eye, my eyes drift downward until I see the outline of an enormous erection under his gray suit trousers and a wet spot seeping through the fabric where the shape of the bulging head is clear.

  My nipples are rock hard as his eyes roam over me, and the release of tension I had a moment ago is gone, replaced by a new sort of throbbing need, laced with fear and panic.

  I’m sure what I’ve done is illegal somehow, and I can only hope that he won’t press charges.

  As he stares at me, I want to run, but I also never want to leave. My core clenches and the heat between my legs intensifies as he reaches over to brush a stray hair from my cheek, the contact making me wince, unsure what’s coming next.

  He licks his lips and his jaw muscles tighten as my pulse races.

  “I liked watching you,” he says.

  I glance over at my clothes on the corner of the bed, wondering if he’s going to leave me to dress so I can take the walk of shame to my car.

  “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be here.” I look down at the bedding, clutching it tighter to the base of my neck.

  “I think you should be right here. In fact, I can’t think of anywhere better for you.”

  I’m not sure if I should be turned on or terrified. I’m in a precarious position, naked in the bed of a man I barely know as he stands over me, looking at me like I’m his next meal.

  His hand leaves my cheek, tracing down my exposed shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps under his fingers.

  “I’d like to see more. Can you do that for me again? You said my name, as well. I liked that very much.”

  “I—” I stutter, unsure what to say or do, even as tingling anticipation gathers down low. This mysterious man, who’s somehow lit a candle inside of me I didn’t even know existed before, is urging me forward with his eyes, and I feel powerless to resist.

  His fingers move to the edge of the sheet, pulling at it slowly, slipping the fabric from my grip as any defense I may have fails to materialize. My already hard nipples tingle as the bedding rasps over them, exposing my flesh to his gaze, and I swear I see him shudder.

 
My cheeks are on fire as his eyes stall on my breasts. I’m as scared as I’ve ever been, but for some reason, I also want him to pull the sheet away, to expose me and watch while I touch myself again, knowing it pleases him.

  I try to steady my breathing as he pulls the sheet from the rest of my body, leaving me sitting in his bed naked. He looks me over like a predator before his eyes rest on the darkened wet spot in the center of the bed.

  “I need to see you do that again.” His voice darkens as he bites into his bottom lip, and his face looks pained. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

  I shiver. No one has ever called me beautiful before, let alone while I sit naked in a bed I have no business being in.

  As I lick my lips, I start to shift back down onto the pillows, my eyes pinned to his, watching me with such intensity I feel like I’m vibrating.

  “What were you thinking of when you said my name?” He asks, and I swallow hard as I try to decide what to do.

  I want to tell him the truth. I was thinking of him the entire time I touched myself. Imagining his mouth kissing and licking between my legs.

  Then, when I was close to the edge, I thought of his naked body blanketing mine. The brush of the tip of his cock at my entrance, teasing me before he plunged inside and took my virginity bare, without anything between us. His deep voice grunting in my ear, telling me how good it felt. How he couldn’t stop. How he was going to cum inside—

  “You need to answer me.”

  I jump at the sound of Marshall’s voice, hard and needy as he interrupts the replay of my fantasy.

  “I was thinking...” It’s hard to form words. I feel so awkward sitting here naked, but seeing him here next to me has me more excited than I can believe. “About you,” I finish, unable to bear the embarrassment of giving him the details.

  His breathing is heavy as he strips off his suit jacket and tosses it on the post at the end of the bed. He’s pure man. Every movement is tinged with confidence, self-assuredness, like he knows I won’t deny him, as though I’m already his.