Authors: Sara Fawkes
Someone
grabbed my arm and jerked me sideways into the shadows beside me. Before I
could make a sound a hand clapped over my mouth, and I was dragged back into a
small alcove half-hidden from the rest of the garage reserved for motorcycles.
I struggled but the arms holding me were implacable, like iron across my body.
“I
did tell you I would see you soon.” The voice was familiar and deep, and I
recognized it immediately. It had been running through my head all day long in
fantasies I’d tried in vain to stamp out.
As
soon as I heard his voice a wave of relief washed over me, followed quickly by
a confused anger.
Why on earth do I trust him?
Frustrated by my own
apparent stupidity, I stomped down as hard as I could on the instep of the
stranger’s leg. He grunted but didn’t release me, instead spinning me and
pressing me up against the cold concrete wall. His body molded itself to my
back, hands holding my wrists against the concrete. “You can fight,” he
murmured, running his lips along the back of my ear. “I like that.”
His
casual dismissal annoyed me. I threw my head back trying to hit him in the face
but he ducked out of the way with a chuckle. Another attempt to stomp his feet
with my pump was foiled when his leg snaked between mine, pinning them in
place. The fingers around my wrist, softer than iron manacles but no less firm,
set fire to my skin without giving me any room to move.
“Let
me go or I’ll scream,” I said in an even voice, trying to turn my head to catch
his eye. It frustrated the hell out of me that I was neither afraid nor as
angry as I knew I should; the man was once again prompting the wrong feelings
for the situation. I had to be brain damaged if I thought I could
trust
the man when I didn’t even know his name!
He
ran his face along the lines of my hair, taking a deep breath and making an
appreciative rumble deep in his throat. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all
day,” he murmured, not acknowledging my threat. His thumbs made light circles
on my wrists and my body clenched at the almost tender motion. “How quickly you
responded to me, your smell, your
taste
.”
I
swallowed, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in my belly.
No
, I
thought desperately,
I can’t be turned on by this.
The sight of him
looming over me however, his hard hot body pressing against my back, was making
my head whirl and limbs ache to wrap around him.
Dammit.
“Let me go,” I
said between grit teeth, trying to ignore my body’s traitorous reactions. “This
is wrong, I don’t want...”
He
laid a soft kiss on the skin behind my ear as I trailed off, a stark contrast
to the unbreakable grip he held on my wrists. My breath caught in my throat as
lips and teeth dragged down my neck as his hips rolled against my backside, his
hard length sliding along the crease of my backside. “I would never take a
woman who doesn’t want me,” he murmured, moving to whisper in my other ear.
“Say ‘no’ and I will leave you alone forever.” He ran his lips down the side of
my throat, giving my shoulder a gentle bite as he waited for my answer.
By
now I was shaking, but not in any kind of fear or distress. When one of his
hands left my wrist and skimmed along the underside of my arm I didn’t move, reveling
in the sensations his touch produced through my body. His hand moved up the
back of my thigh under my skirt, fingernails raking the skin, and a finger slid
between the firm lobes of my backside. He gave a growl, squeezing my butt with
both hands and spreading the cheeks, then pressed between with the hard bulge
still locked behind his pants. A moan slipped from my mouth as I arched my hips
back, using the wall as leverage to get closer.
The
hands left my backside and I was flipped around to face him. I had a brief close-up
glimpse of a familiar handsome face and green eyes, then his lips crashed
against mine in the hottest kiss of my life. I responded, arching closer so I
was flush against his body. I moved my hands across his torso, sliding beneath
the suit coat against the silky shirt, but he grabbed my hands and stretched
them high above my head. A leg between my thighs pulled me higher and I ground
my hips, rubbing myself against the rock hard thigh. Breathy moans escaped my
lips as he moved his mouth lower, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin of
my neck.
“I
want to feel your mouth on me,” he murmured, gliding his lips up my neck and
jaw line. “I want to see you on your knees, that perfect mouth around my
cock...”
This
time when I tried to free myself he didn't stop me, instead stepping back and
setting me on my feet. My hands went immediately to his waistband, sliding down
the zipper. He reached down to help me, and as he pulled his member free of the
pants I sank down on my heels and flicked the tip with my tongue. He tasted
clean, and the sharp intake of breath above told me he liked what I was doing.
His need was my own – I felt a fresh wave of heat between my legs as I moved my
head forward, sucking the head deep.
“God!”
His body shuddered at the exclamation and, suddenly bolder, I wrapped a hand
around the thick base and pulled him farther into my mouth. My tongue rolled
along the base and flicked the tip, then I started bobbing my head over the
thick member. His hips jerked, thrusting in time with my mouth; a hand came to
rest behind my head, pulling insistently, but I controlled the pace. I undid
the button of his pants and reached inside, cupping his balls with my free
hand. He shook above me, dick jumping in appreciation, then both hands dug into
my skull, pulling me closer and silently demanding more, deeper. This time I
obliged, releasing the base and pulling him as far in as I could, bobbing and
weaving my head and tongue. My free hand slid down between my legs, gliding
through my wet folds and pressing against the throbbing nub.
“Are
you touching yourself?” I heard him grit out above me. The thrust into my mouth
grew more frenzied as I sped up my own ministrations, the hard length in my
mouth muffling my own cries. The stranger was silent for the most part, but the
few moans he did let free when I swirled my tongue or massaged the tip with the
back of my throat were gratifying to hear.
Part
of my brain, a very small part, was wondering what on earth I was doing but I
tuned it out. I had gone far too long without anyone noticing me; even my
coworkers ignored me. So for a man this beautiful to see me, let alone approach
in any fashion, was a heady notion. I didn't allow myself to wonder why he
chose me or what would happen next - right now I only wanted to
feel
. Fingers
dug into my scalp and my own orgasm rushed to meet me even as his balls
contracted, close to their own finale.
Hands
pushed me away, back against the concrete wall, and I disengaged with a
surprised pop. The man before me bent down and wound his arms around my torso;
I was lifted into the air and thrust back against the wall, a hard body
settling between my legs. I turned startled eyes to the handsome stranger's
face, only inches now from mine, then I felt his member probing my entrance. He
pressed inside and I bit back a cry from the intense pleasure. Muscles that
hadn't seen action in too long were stretched, my own juices giving him an easy
entrance. His lips crushed mine, swallowing my cries as he pounded me back into
the concrete wall.
The
orgasm I'd been coaxing along with my fingers rocketed to the surface with the
rubbing and stretching and grinding. My scream was caught by the stranger's
lips as I came hard, waves of pleasure rolling through my body. I kissed him
wildly, nipping at his lips and raking my fingernails down the jacket arms of
his suit. My response brought out a similar wildness in him and he pounded into
me, releasing my mouth and latching onto my shoulder with his teeth. My cries,
fainter now after the orgasm, still echoed off the walls in the small alcove.
He
gasped against my skin, then he pulled out and came on the ground beneath me,
his free hand rubbing out the last of his orgasm. Sandwiched between his hot
body and the hard concrete, I finally noticed the chill of the cold stone and
the sound of cars deep inside the complex making their way toward the exit. The
chill against my wet thighs served as a wake-up call to what I had allowed to
happened; I pressed feebly against the hard shoulders, my body still limp from
my orgasm.
The
stranger stepped back, still supporting my weight with large hands beneath my
backside, then slowly lowered me to the floor. I wobbled in my heels, gripping
his arm for support, then stepped away. The enormity of what I had just done -
again - sent my mind reeling. I began shivering, only partly from the cold,
then jumped as something warm and heavy was draped over my shoulders. I glanced
up briefly at the now jacket-less stranger but was unable to utter any words of
thanks. He helped hold it for me as I pulled the dress coat slowly over my arms.
While not a cold weather jacket, it remained warm from his body and cut the
worst of the chill which helped immensely.
“Let
me take you home.”
The
moment I heard the words I shook my head, stepping away from him. My body
burned with shame and I couldn't bear to look at him. “I need to catch the
train,” I mumbled.
A
finger came under my chin and tilted my head up until I was looking into that
handsome face. His face was impassive but I could see concern in his beautiful
green eyes. “Please,” he said softly.
My
body still responded to his touch; I wanted to lay my cheek against the rough
skin of his hand. Tears pricked my eyes at the silly sentiment -
was I
really so desperate?
- and I stepped back again, pulling from his grip.
Clearing my throat and forcing myself not to act like a simpering twit, I
looked him in the eye. “I need to catch the train.” Keeping my head high even
as shame made me want to crawl away and hide, I started walking away then
faltered. “Your jacket,” I murmured and started to shrug out of it.
He
held up a hand to stop me. “Keep it.” A bemused smile flickered across his lips
and it seemed for a moment I had his full attention...and approval. “You need
it more than I do right now.”
The
air was chilly and I knew I looked a mess; the coat hung on me but at that
moment I needed the cover. Murmuring my thanks I walked quickly out of the
alcove and started toward the exit. I lifted a shaky hand to my head; my hair was
loose but seemed to be in order. I'd need to find a mirror quickly as I was
certain I looked a fright.
I
heard the sound of a car pulling up behind me and stopping. Against my better
judgment I glanced back to see a chauffeur step out of a long black limousine
and open the passenger door, and the handsome stranger duck inside. I stood
there, staring like an idiot, as the driver closed the door then pulled out
toward the exit. The windows of the car were tinted so I couldn't see inside as
it passed by me, and I watched as my erstwhile ride pulled past the guards and
out into the loud traffic outside.
Who on earth was this man?
I
wondered, then shut off that line of thought and headed out of the empty
garage.
I
pulled into a nearby cafe and locked myself inside the bathroom to clean myself
up. Fifteen minutes later I ducked back out, my satchel hanging by its strap
over a bare arm and the dress coat draped over the bag. I caught a later train
than usual but most of that time was a haze, my brain repeating one thought
over and over again.
What
the hell was I doing?
3
The
next morning, I arrived at work half an hour early and made sure the elevator I
took did not contain the stranger. Nervous as I was that someone might comment
on my actions the previous day, it was a relief to be ignored as usual by the
people around me. The building at that hour held a fraction of its usual
occupants but I hurried to my desk to avoid any unwanted conflicts with certain
green-eyed individuals.
I'd
spent most of my evening and night trying to figure out whether or not I should
go to work the next morning. The recklessness and downright stupidity of my
actions haunted me all night, making me go so far as to question my sanity.
This
isn’t who I am.
I'd never been so thoughtless about my actions and a
desperate libido wasn't answer enough for me.
I'd
started searching out job opportunities, something I could turn to if my
present situation went sour, but the market was as tough as ever. The proper
half of my brain demanded I quit and leave this job, but the logical portion
maintained I needed the money. Rent on my tiny studio apartment was coming due
and I had no other options at the moment unless I wanted to live on the
streets.
Oh
Lucy, how far you’ve fallen.
Once
I got to my desk I spent my time on work that avoided me having to log into the
computer as I didn't want my early arrival noticed by management. As my
coworkers arrived, chatting amongst themselves as they passed by my tiny
cubicle, I stayed in my little corner content to be ignored today. Right at
eight-thirty however, as I was signing in for the day, my boss poked her head
around the walls of my desk. “Follow me please, Ms. Delacourt.”
My
manager's presence startled me. I saw her almost every day but, after my
initial interview, she had all but ignored my presence in the office. That she
chose now to talk to me had the world spinning and my stomach curling into
knots. Her tone brooked no argument however and with a hurried, “Yes Ms.
Crabtree,” and a brief pause to get myself together, I pulled myself up on
trembling legs and followed after her.