What in the hell was I supposed to do now? He was right there, all up close and sexy like. And I was one sneeze away from giving him a preview of the cumming attractions from my box…seat.
“I think you forgot the apostrophe. I believe we’ll fuck is the phrase you were looking for.”
Shit. I said that out loud? What’s worse is that I couldn’t be sure I didn’t agree with him.
Betty certainly did. She was chanting ‘Here! Here!’ in concurrence with his suggestion and then doing vulgar things that involved her tongue and a peace sign made up of two fingers.
Or maybe that was a ‘piece’ sign.
In either case, it was a sign I clearly needed help.
And now that he’d so graciously helped me in removing the knot I’d spent a good five minutes constructing, I was out of ideas.
And nearly out of my resolve to not give in to his idea.
My mouth was dry. All of my excess fluids were currently coating my other lips, so I forced out, “Your Jedi mind tricks won’t work on me, Dark Lord of the Sith.”
Either deaf or undeterred by my dubious denials, he moved ever so slightly behind me and yet had somehow managed to cross galaxies in the speed of light at the same time.
Because his Death Star was now pressing up against my Millennium Falcon.
“Come to the dark side,” he purred.
‘Rawr’ my susceptible to mind fuckery Sookie Wookie replied.
You will NOT beg him to chew on your Chewbacca! Do you hear me Sookie Stackhouse?!?!
At least with him at my back he couldn’t see my eyes grow wide realizing I was out of my element. He’d obviously played this game hundreds of times. Against hundreds of women. All of whom had way more experience than me.
He was a licensed lothario. A certified Casanova. A prodigy of pussy. A connoisseur of cunts. A whiz of jizz, no doubt proficient in the art of fuck.
I was a rookie. In every way.
I was a Pee Wee standing on the one yard line up against an NFL linebacker. Both huge and hard. In all ways. Even if I could’ve found somewhere to tuck a red flag into my leather uniform, throwing it down would do no good. A slow-mo instant replay would no doubt cum out in his favor.
Because a touchdown was all but guaranteed.
Betty shook her pom-poms and cheered from the sidelines.
I’d thought I was so smart. Constructing my knot to end all knots and making the Velcro seams look like a Hustler’s connect-the-dots to form the bullseye to my Betty. I didn’t need my gift to know men were visual creatures. Flash them some skin and they all turned into bobble head dolls, agreeing to anything you said because their other heads were doing all of their thinking. My only thought had been to get him away from that woman. Her thoughts were too snarly for me to decipher much, but from the feel of them her intent was clear.
She was a threat to him.
How or why, I had no clue. Nothing more than her feelings of an imminent victory interspersed with intimidation came to me and the farther away I walked, the less I could make out. This wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind when I’d first thought to use my looks to my advantage with him. In that scenario – before I’d ever met him – it was to use them against him.
Now I’d used them to help him get away from her.
But who was going to help me get out of this mess?
I couldn’t fuck him, no matter how much I was dying to. It would be crossing a line I had no business even getting near. I was already forming an attachment to him and sleeping with him would only make it that much harder to remain objective.
Betty was already objecting to my decision. Vehemently.
I’d flirted my way into this mess, so I tried to calm myself and my voice as I said the only thing I thought might get me out of it.
“Don’t you have to get back to work?”
I’d disturbed his meeting. Purposely, but still. Surely he had more to do than meet up with her. Wondering if he’d give up any details, I added, “Isn’t your appointment waiting for you?”
Only a few minutes had passed in the time I’d left his office until I’d texted him. Granted, he’d texted back she was a laughable bitch and I couldn’t sense her presence any longer, but she’d seemed determined when I saw her. I doubted she would give up that easily.
“No,” he sighed. Then rubbing his Death Star’s cannon against my Falcon’s stern, he rumbled out, “And, no.”
That’s what I should be saying.
Instead I backed into him even more.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
His hands grabbed onto my hips to hold me there. And just like the bitch in his office, it too was laughable. They were determined to stay there and wouldn’t be giving up that easily, no matter what I had to say about it.
My willpower to resist him could learn a lot from them.
“Huh…with those short business hours, maybe I should call you Dearth Vader.” Feeling his throaty chuckle against my spine made my eyes roll into the back of my head. While they were back there, I rooted around in my brain for something else to say that didn’t involve the words ‘again’ or ‘harder’.
I doubted Mr. Spellcheck would take points off with his red pen for that one.
I took a few deep breaths and picked up a few mental boxes, shaking them like Christmas presents and then dumping the contents out in my scattered brain to find something useful. Eventually that Stonebrook woman fell out of one of them and recalling his descriptive text made me ask, “So what was so preposterous about her proposal?”
I even managed to say it in a normal voice, like I wasn’t helping him dry hump my ass, but I figured it couldn’t hurt since I knew it wasn’t really my place to ask him questions about his business. I only hoped he wouldn’t call me out on it since it wasn’t his business to be rubbing all up in my business.
We were two busybodies. Literally.
I really couldn’t be sure of much of anything at that point and only knew when I was that close to him, it felt like I was standing on a bridge made up of vines and weathered wooden slats. Constructed by an ancient civilization many lifetimes ago, it swayed in the breeze, spanning two cliff tops with nothing but jagged rocks below.
It was exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. But in a good way.
Yet another sign I needed help.
He seemed too busy sniffing me to say anything at first, so I goaded his sense of humor and added, “Did she ask you to invest in saving the whales? It’s a worthy cause, you know. Whales are people too.”
Or something like that. They breathed air. I used to be able to. Before him and his Death Star somehow managed to suck it all from my lungs. That only made me think of sucking him back.
It was a tossup on if it would be in retribution or reward.
“If she had, at least it would’ve explained her smelling like fish.”
“Eww…” I grimaced.
I wondered just how close he got to her for him to be able to smell that, but my irrationally rising jealousy at the thought was short lived when his hands ran down the sides of my legs and I gasped feeling his fingers brush against my exposed skin.
He was connecting the dots.
“Your hands are cold.”
They were a welcome relief considering my skin was on fire. And even skin on skin, he was still nothing but blissful silence.
It was giving Betty ideas for her doctoral thesis. She set up spreadsheets and flow charts to mathematically document how much of him we could touch. Her lab coat fanned out at her knees as she twirled around and began jotting down notes, wanting to start by experimenting with spreading ‘em on the sheets and then charting the flow from between my legs.
She did leg lunges and gathered beakers in preparation.
“Because all of my blood has rushed to another part of my body,” he replied, unaware he was the chimp to Betty’s Jane Goodall, with her wanting to study parts of him deep inside of our natural habitat.
Hearing his reasoning, Dr. Betty stood upright and nodded seriously, tapping her pen against her lips in deep thought. A light bulb appeared above her head just before she scribbled out the PhD after her name at the top of the page, writing out ‘Pussy + hot Dick’ in its place, and then drew a heart around it.
I wondered if I shoved an Ambien in between those lips, would it knock her ass out?
I knew his Northbound train had left the station and was quickly barreling down a track that could only end in a collision of our pelvises, so I made one last Hail Mary attempt to bring us to a stop.
“I thought we were keeping things professional between us.”
More or less. I think. We’d just talked about something like that less than thirty minutes earlier.
“We’re both off the clock. Besides, you were the one who begged me to rip your pants off. I have proof on my phone.”
Grabbing onto my hips he started grinding against me more decisively. Against my leather clad ass. My ass. Covered by leather. Which was only being held together by a broken string. Just like my willpower.
In a playful voice that contradicted his not so playful actions, he added, “Give me a minute. I’ll try and forward the text back to you.”
The way he moved his body was with purpose. I could feel the power emanating from him through every pore of our twin cow babies.
He definitely had the power of the force within him.
And yet deep down inside, I knew he would never force me. I might not have been able to read his mind yet, but I had no doubt if I told him to stop, he would.
And that gave me a sense of power as well. I would later suspect I was delirious from it.
“I’ve heard of ass dialing, but ass texting?” I asked, only so I wouldn’t beg him to pull my hair and spank me. Channeling my inner Shakira, I moved both with and against him, adding, “I don’t feel your phone back there.”
Hips don’t lie, but his mouth was.
“Hmm…” he drawled. “My mistake. I must have left it in my office.”
It didn’t stop him from still trying to send messages to my ass though.
And I got them all. Loud and clear.
His speed was slow and steady. Not enough to get either one of us off. Just enough to keep the fire burning.
And oh how it burned.
I was hot. And bothered. And bothered that he was so hot.
My skin literally felt like it was about to burst into flames and without thought, I pulled the zipper down on the leather sauna my top half had been imprisoned by. The cool air felt like tiny shards of welcome ice hitting every drop of moisture on my chest and I pulled my arms free so I could find relief in the oxygen beating against my blistering skin since every thrust of his hips seemed to deny the much needed molecules from entering my lungs.
With him pressed so tightly against me, the jacket couldn’t fall far behind me. It landed somewhere in between us, providing an unintentional lumbar support to my not so achy back.
But I ached in other places.
And if I could be bothered to tie the arms around my waist, it could double as an unintentional rein he could use to ride me with.
Hi Ho Sookie! Away!
I was close to losing it. My willpower. My mind. My pants. I was close to losing it all. It suddenly made sense for me to be dressed like Sadist Sookie since I was enjoying the painful torture we were each bestowing on one another. And because he was clearly the long lost pea to my pod, he kicked it up a notch.
By licking the back of my neck.
My skin was so hot it felt like he’d been sucking on an ice cube. Goose bumps rose up on every available surface. My nipples were the new Spirograph, able to cut pretty swirls onto glass. Betty ditched her smarty-pants glasses and hopped into a barrel to descend the falls now gushing out in between my thighs.
And my head jerked back like I’d been hit with an uppercut by a Rock ’Em Sock ’Em Robot.
And it wasn’t a good kind of pain. Like if he’d smacked my ass while asking who it belonged to. But at least it cleared some of the fog in my head, no doubt brought on by the steam billowing out of my crotch.
I spun around in the next moment, knowing it had to have hurt him too, and my eyes widened as I gasped out, “I’m so sorry!” Seeing the blood trickling down from his nose and over his upper lip made me remember the elbow to the sternum I’d delivered to him just last week.
There I go. Fucking things up, just like they’d thought. Fucking him. Not fucking him. It was all fucked up.
He’d probably get a restraining order against me if he didn’t fire me first. Or instead of leather and Velcro, he could gift me with a straight jacket and orders it was to be worn at all times in his presence. I couldn’t blame him really.
And if he could hear Betty, he’d know just how many levels of crazy there were in one Sookie Stackhouse.
But then he did something unexpected.
One minute he was staring me down.
And then he wasn’t.
Without ever seeing him move, I could only gasp again when poof! Out of thin air his mouth was suddenly on mine.