EroticTakeover (9 page)

“Stay put, I’m getting us takeout.”

“We’re going back to the office?”

“Nope.”

“Your place?”

Now there was a thought. Trouble was once he got her there,
they might stay for days, AWOL from work and life. Mac shook his head.

Jodi frowned. “Mine?”

“Uh-uh.” He brought up the deli’s menu on his iPhone and
handed it to her. “Pick what you want.”

She chose a hoagie with black forest ham, prosciutto,
thick-sliced bacon, three kinds of cheese, mayo and spicy mustard, along with
macaroni salad, coleslaw and a beer.

“Put on whatever station you want,” Mac said. “Even Justin
Bieber’s shit if that’s what you like. I’ll be right back.”

He left the car. She powered down her window and shouted,
“Bieber’s not my type.”

Yeah, baby, I know. I am.
Gloriously happy, Mac gave
her a thumbs-up. Ten minutes later, he returned with two large sacks that he
placed on the floor in the back.

Jodi turned down the country music she’d been listening to.
“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

He pumped up the volume again. Taylor Swift wailed about
something. Jodi tapped her foot in time to the tune. Mac smiled.

The night was soft and fragrant, surprisingly clear of
pollution and fog. A spray of stars decorated the velvety sky. The horizon
glowed gold, sapphire and red as it surrendered the last of its light. For the
first few miles, traffic was a bitch then it thinned out as Mac left the guts
of the city. He took a number of turns, all the roads snaking up hillsides.

Jodi leaned forward, fingers gripping the dash as she stared
out the windshield and then her window. Dark surrounded them while a blanket of
lights stretched out below, some twinkling gold, others bluish white.

Mac turned off the air-conditioning but left on the blowers,
welcoming the air’s soft caress. He continued his slow ascent, the headlights
sweeping the heavy vegetation on each side of the road. At last he saw what he
wanted and pulled off the road to a secluded area surrounded by brush,
evergreen trees and eucalyptus that lent their fragrant scents to the quiet
evening. Only the hush of the wind and the sound of crickets played up here.

“This table okay?” he asked.

She beamed. “Wow. I never knew this existed.”

He stared in surprise even as his heart twisted with
unexpected sorrow at her words. He’d come here when he’d first learned to
drive, had come back frequently during his teens and twenties. This place had
become so ordinary for him, Mac hadn’t thought of it in years. Seeing it
through Jodi’s eyes, he realized how lucky he’d been to have experienced so much.
He wanted that now for her.

“Power your seat forward as much as it can go,” he said,
doing the same with his. “This station okay with you?”

She finished with her seat. “You want something other than
country?”

Mac wanted to please her for reasons he wasn’t going to
explore. “I’m good. Follow me.”

They got in the backseat just as Carrie Underwood belted out
what she’d done to her cheating man. Mac opened their beers and handed Jodi
hers. They spread out their feast on the seat between them.

Smiling, Mac tapped the lip of his bottle against hers.
“Enjoy.”

“I am,” she murmured. “This is amazing. Thanks.”

Her gratitude did wonderful and wicked things to him. Mac
settled his hand on her upper thigh as they ate. He’d gotten his favorite, a
meatball sandwich with thick sauce, provolone and parmesan on a toasted roll.
Tonight it tasted better than it ever had. He suspected the food was the same
but seemed more flavorful because Jodi was here, having a good time with him.
“Yours okay?”

“God yeah. Take a bite.” She slipped her fingers beneath his
chin and offered her sandwich.

Her hand was so soft, her touch so loving, it was a moment
before Mac could get his mouth to work. He took a small bite that he hardly
tasted then licked mustard and mayo from her thumb, enjoying the flavor of her
skin the best.

Jodi smiled softly and tried his sandwich.

“No, don’t,” he said, stopping her from licking a dribble of
sauce from the corner of her mouth. That was his job.

Mac worked his fingers through her hair, bringing her to him
so he could properly clean her lips.

She inhaled softly then tried to get closer. The empty bags
crinkled. One of the Styrofoam cartons fell to the floor. Neither of them
bothered to pick it up. Their kiss happened too fast.

It was hungry, frantic, out of control, both of them
battling to fill each other’s mouths. Mac won for a time until Jodi showed him
what she was made of. She cradled his balls and ran her thumb over the head of
his cock. A flurry of awesome sensations and heat sprinted up his torso and down
his thighs, making it impossible for him to concentrate on anything else. As
his kiss faltered, she took over, filling his mouth with her tongue.

He suckled her greedily, his passion hard then gentle. He
couldn’t decide which he liked best. Shit, he craved it all. Each time they
moved closer to each other, one of the cartons or bags made a noise. Jodi
finally pulled her mouth free and panted, “Are you through?”

“Hell, I haven’t even started.”

“Me either. I was talking about the food.”

“What food?”

With a pleased grin, she tossed their meal in the bags and
threw them up front.

“Ready?” she breathed.

For anything. “Hell yeah.” Mac dug a condom out of his front
pocket.

Jodi’s eyes sparkled in the muted light, her attention fixed
on the foil packet before she turned, taking in the area.

“If you’re uncomfortable,” Mac said, “we don’t have to—“

“I want to.”

He saw that truth on her face. Indecent craving transformed
her from shy little Jodi to a breathtakingly alive, adventurous woman, whom Mac
wanted too much. His painful desire would turn to full-out misery if he had to
wait any longer to have her.

They raced to take off their jeans and underwear. Finishing
a split second before he did, Jodi leaned across his naked thighs.

Her belly brushed his cock, making the damn thing throb in
delight. Mac huffed out his words. “What are you doing?”

“Where’s the condom? I want to put it on you.”

Gladly. Mac handed it over and lifted his rod in offering.
Even in the dim light, he could see his crown was practically maroon with need.
In another second or two, he’d be sobbing. “Hurry.”

She nodded then moved at a glacial pace, rolling the rubber
down his length only to stop repeatedly to fondle his balls.

So much heat and arousal shot through him, Mac threw his
head back and growled. “Do that again and I’m going to come in your hand. If I
do, you’ll have to wait a minute for me to get hard a—“

“I’m hurrying.” This time Jodi did and finished the job
quickly. She stroked his jaw. “A minute? Really?”

Laughing, Mac rolled her to the side and smacked her ass
hard three times. Jodi moaned indelicately and wiggled her butt, probably
wanting more.

No damn way. She was going to take care of him now. Mac
patted his thigh. “Hop on. Or else.”

Jodi twisted around so she could look at him. “Meaning?”

“I’m perfectly capable of playing with myself. Done it for
years. I can blast off without any help from—“

“I hear you.” She scooted toward him and straddled his legs.
With her mouth against his, she whispered, “But do you really want to go it
alone?”

Hell no. This was too nice. She smelled of his meatball’s
marinara sauce, her sandwich’s spicy mustard and enchanting female flesh.

Mac planted his hands on her waist, steadying Jodi as she
edged up and guided the tip of his cock to her cunt.

He adjusted his body to help her but it wasn’t easy. The
backseat was small, especially for a man his size. The abbreviated space should
have been uncomfortable but wasn’t. They made do somehow, even though their
movements were clumsy, arms and knees hitting each other, the door, the seat.

None of it mattered with the slow slide of his rod within
her snug pussy. Mac’s breath caught. His hair stood on end at her fucking heat.
So hot it stunned. Her cunt was so tight it comforted.

He groaned. Jodi panted. She began her unhurried ascent,
lifting her body from his until only the head of his cock was still firmly
inside her. On an unruly moan, she sank back down, her cunt swallowing him once
more, taking him deep.

Mac sighed in gratitude.

Repeatedly she went up and down, down and up until the crap
at work and all the loneliness he’d ever known simply fell away.

Yet it still wasn’t enough. Mac wanted so much more. He
reached beneath Jodi’s tee, pulled down her bra cups and touched her nipples.
She shuddered. He ran his hand over her belly and traced her navel.

She giggled.

Just as she pushed up again, he slipped his hand lower and
brushed her clit.

Her gasp of delight sounded loud in the closed-in area,
drowning out the sales pitch on the radio.

Mac stroked her again. Jodi growled her delight and pumped
harder, faster.

All the while, she clung to him. Mac did the same with her
as they rode each other, rocking the car and their respective worlds.

Quinn’s package arrived the following afternoon, delivered
by a UPS guy who gawked at Viviana, the Hispanic beauty. Stretched out on the
sofa in nothing except her body makeup, Viv spoke into her iPhone, oblivious to
everything except her conversation.

Not watching where he was going, the delivery guy backed out
of the studio and banged his elbow on the jamb. Pain flashed across his young
face before the door swung shut on him. Jodi turned to the box, which was huge.
It could easily hold a full-grown dog. The German shepherd variety, not the
kind Mac liked to eat.

She couldn’t imagine what might be inside. Maybe most of it
was packing material so the mask, blindfold and leather fetish wear wouldn’t
get smashed beneath brutal chains, barbarous cuffs and intimidating whips.

“The main theme’s BDSM,”
Mac had said…

The main theme of a gig for which she could earn enough to
pay for her car repairs and retire some of her student loan debt. If she
represented the line on a long-term basis, she probably could buy a house.
Unsteady, Jodi leaned against her desk.

Mac shouted from the other end of the studio. “Viv, let’s
get moving.”

With the grace of a gazelle—and eyes as darkly luminous as
that lovely creature’s—Viv left the sofa and padded across the space. Her naked
ass bounced merrily with each step.

Jodi shuffled to her chair and plopped into it, her weight
making its springs groan. From here, Quinn’s box hid her view of Mac and the
others. It quickly occurred to her that the moment Mac saw the box, he’d open
it and she’d have to make a decision. The fact that she hadn’t as yet stunned
her. This should have been a no-brainer.

She was too big, too plain, too conservative to model
BDSM-wear or anything else revealing. Screwing like a maniac here and in the
backseat of Mac’s car was as far as she could go.

Wait, that wasn’t entirely true. After they’d made love last
night, they’d finished their beers, torn off the rest of their clothes and lain
on the hood of his Mercedes, alternately kissing and staring at the light show
above and beneath them.

For some reason Jodi hadn’t been afraid that a cop or
someone else would drive by. Hell, even the sound of an unknown animal rustling
the vegetation hadn’t freaked her out. With Mac’s big body pressed against
hers, she’d never felt safer.

At her apartment door, they’d made out like two hormone-drenched
teens, their kisses wonderfully deep, wet and sloppy. At the time, anything had
seemed possible.

Leaning to the side, Jodi peeked around the box. Viv and the
others held their unnatural yet sexy poses as Mac clicked away. Cait huddled
with Hilary, both of them reading something on Cait’s smartphone. Furtively
Jodi pulled up the studio files and opened the one that had her shots in it.
Not those Mac had Photoshopped but the originals.

She bit her lip at the sight of the leather corset and collar
but didn’t whimper in embarrassment as she might have before getting involved
with Mac. Jodi recalled what he’d said about all of this being natural, a part
of life. Certainly one of the best parts if you were with a partner you
trusted.

Mac hadn’t done anything except put Jodi at ease and praise
her, even though she was no model. Studying her photos, Jodi saw that her
expression was as stiff as her body, kind of how she’d pose for a mug shot
after her arrest for murder. Comparing her pictures to the other models’ shots
was troubling on numerous levels. Not only did Jodi think they were hotter than
she’d ever be, but their acting skills were far more impressive. Even
narcissistic Krista had managed to look ecstatic, heat burning in her gaze, her
plump lips parted in bliss over whatever a man wanted to do to her. Possess.
Pleasure. Punish.

A strap cracked.

Jodi flinched at the sound and looked around the box again.
Rocco was doing his Marquis de Sade act while Mac had sprawled on the floor,
capturing the scene from that angle.

Jodi stared at the meaty ridge between Mac’s legs. From here
it was hard to tell if he had an erection or not. Even flaccid, the man was
incredibly blessed. A dull ache settled in Jodi’s cunt. Heat washed through her
at the memory of last night and earlier. The leather corset constricting her
flesh, Mac’s mouth on her slit, his tongue lapping her nub, his cock sliding in
and out of her cunt, balls swinging, his body’s intimate invasion of hers so
thrilling and enticing she couldn’t think of anything else.

The more Jodi had of him, the more she wanted, her need
insatiable. One by one, her barriers were crumbling, no different from a
sandcastle licked by the persistent surf. Those gentle waves wore away what man
had built, reducing everything to the way nature had always intended.

Because all this was simply a part of life. Natural.
Expected. Nothing to worry about.

Her body pulsed with arousal that Jodi’s mind tried to argue
against. She chewed her lip.

The sound of footfalls suddenly registered. When they
stopped, Jodi tensed and looked up. The top of the box came to the middle of
Mac’s torso. With his arm resting on the package, he regarded her.

“I see our stuff came in.”

That it had. Big as life, the same as him. She nodded. “Is
it time for lunch already?”

“Only if you want to eat.”

Food was the farthest thing from her mind. This morning, Mac
had provided another spread of bagels, cream cheese and fruit. He must have
offered it to the crew today, because the models were already chowing down, not
demanding that Jodi fetch their meals like a faithful pet.

“You all right?” Mac asked.

Jodi hadn’t been anywhere near normal since she started
working here and had begun wanting him more than anything in her life. If that
wasn’t troubling enough, she kept changing. Mac might have called it loosening
up, evolving into the woman she should have always been—driven by passion,
consumed with need, not caring about convention or the crap that society had
drilled into her since birth. Stuff she didn’t want to care about but still
kind of did. Shit, she was a mess.

“Uh-huh,” she lied.

He regarded her then tapped his fingers against the box.
“You going to open this or do you want me to?”

“Can we do it together?”

His bristly cheeks creased with his broad smile, making him
hotter than sin. With his long hair, he looked wild and unrepentant, just the
way Jodi liked. Last night, she’d begged him not to shave this morning and god
bless him, he hadn’t.

“When?” he asked.

“After we close for the day?”

“Done.” Whistling, he padded to his office.

Jodi envied him. She could hardly manage a swallow much less
tooting a tune between her lips. Scouring Quinn’s website, Jodi studied the
items for sale until she recalled that the stuff he’d sent was for a new line.
Sighing, she forced herself to work, updating the books, schedules and text on
the site. She took a call from the garage. Her car would be in intensive care
for at least four days.

“We’re waiting on parts,” the mechanic shouted over the
noise of drills and metal clangs. “While we’ve got your vehicle here, you might
want to consider a new transmission too. The one you got isn’t going to last
that long.”

She covered her eyes with her hand. “Aren’t transmissions
like thousands of dollars?”

“Yep. But your vehicle won’t operate without one. At least
think about it.”

Jodi did little else until everyone started clearing out. It
was time to close?

Hilary slammed the top of her makeup case shut and locked
it. Cait kicked a stool out of the way. It tottered and fell over. She kicked
it again with her biker boots then took the props Mac had used and dropped them
on one of the tables. Without saying a word to each other, she and Hilary
stomped out.

Jodi wondered what they’d fought about and how she could
have missed it. Neither of them was good at hiding her feelings.

Viv stopped at Jodi’s desk. She wore snug jeans and a lacy,
off-the-shoulder top that exposed her taut torso. Pulling her iPhone from her
ear, she said, “I’m booked for tomorrow too, right?”

Jodi checked and nodded.

“Hey, sweetie,” Viv said into her phone. “Mama’s gonna be
home in a few minutes. Did you treat your baby sister good today?” She listened
then laughed at whatever her older kid had said.

Surprised that Viv had children, Jodi studied the young
woman’s shapely ass as she left.

“See ya,” Rocco said and hurried off, clawing his butt. The
leather pants were still giving him trouble.

“Have a good one,” Jodi offered then shot to the door and
locked it.

Alone at last with Mac and her future. Maybe. She edged toward
the package. He came around the corner that led to his office and offered her a
box cutter.

“Ready to operate?”

She turned the cutter in her hand. “I feel like that scene
in
Alien
before the monster pops out of the guy’s chest.”

“Oh yeah.” Mac grinned, his gaze turned inward as though he
was picturing the moment. “That was cool. Saw it when I was five or six with
one of my nannies. Scared the crap out of her.”

“You had a nanny?” Jodi frowned. “She let you see that stuff
when you were a little kid?”

He scratched his neck. “Hey, she remembered to feed me.
That’s all I cared about.”

“Didn’t your parents take care of you at all?”

“Sure. They hired the nannies. Are you really that
interested in my childhood or are you stalling?”

Jodi figured it was a little of both.

“You don’t want to do this?” Mac asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure. I need some time. I want to see
what I’d have to wear. Or not wear,” she mumbled.

Nodding agreeably, Mac placed her hand on the box. “Then
you’re going to have to open this.”

Jodi took far more care than when she’d torn into her
Christmas and birthday gifts as a child. Those, she’d known, had held wondrous
delights. This might scare the crap out of her. Cautiously, she folded back the
flaps and forced herself to peek inside. Her shoulders sagged. More boxes.

Mac parked his ass on the corner of her desk. “At this rate
we’ll be done around midnight or so.”

Ignoring him, Jodi gently lifted the edge of the top box.

“Whoa—wait,” he suddenly barked.

She flinched and stepped back. “Why?”

“It might explode. Think we should call the bomb squad
before you go any further—hey!” He rubbed his arm where she’d slapped it. “What
did I tell you about that?” He pushed away from the desk and stalked toward
her.

Jodi edged back, her pulse hammering hard in her temples and
throat. “Shouldn’t we be opening the boxes?”

“Too late for that now.”

More easily than she would have believed possible, Mac
grabbed her wrist, dragged her to the sofa and over his knee. Her hair swung
forward, skimming her cheeks. He had her jeans and panties down in a flash.
Coolish air glanced off her bare ass. Her cunt got even wetter. She squealed in
delight.

Quiet,” he ordered and paddled her. Hard, precise smacks
that rang through the room, matching the erotic beat of the jazz he’d put on.

Unspeakable sensations roared through her. Excitement,
arousal, brief stings then rolling warmth.

Jodi clutched his calf. His muscles flexed. She grunted
lewdly. Mac made his own noises, male and uninhibited, while he paddled her
until he was breathing damn hard. At last he sagged against the sofa, his hand
on her furrow, fingers exploring the crease.

She shivered at the spectacular feelings that darted through
her. Wicked and wild. “Thanks.”

Chuckling, he stroked her dewy cunt then her anus. Jodi trembled.

He murmured, “You have to keep being bad.”

She laughed.

Mac hauled her up. Wobbly, Jodi tottered. He settled her on
the sofa, pulled off her sandals and tossed them aside. They hit the floor with
a solid
clunk-clunk.
He stripped off her jeans and panties next,
dropping them at his feet. Taking both her hands, he pulled her from the sofa
and toward the box.

“This time I’m going to help,” he said.

She stood aside as he opened the first box just as a man
would, without any hesitation or regret. Peeling away the tissue paper, he
uncovered an absolutely gorgeous black mask that had a dated look about it.
Surrounding the leather were delicate black feathers, rosettes of velvet and
lace, and ornate beadwork. Oddly enough, the materials gave the item a fragile
yet brutal appearance that whispered BDSM.

Her belly quivered. She snatched the next box. Beneath its
tissue paper was a lacy black thong that tied up the front and back with dainty
pink ribbons. Again, a slightly dated look. The faint scent of jasmine floated
toward her, its fragrance rich and exotic.

Mac pulled a leather thong from the next box and peeked
through the long opening in the crotch. Exquisite lace and glittering black
beads edged it, lending an old-fashioned feel to the slit that not only
displayed a woman’s cunt but invited access to it. “Damn, this is great.”

Jodi laughed. Together, they tore through the box,
uncovering stuff she’d never seen before.

“What is this?” She held up what looked to be a leather
thong, no lace this time. There was an area cut out in front in the shape of a
teardrop, which separated the edges of the waistband. A small silver padlock,
beautifully engraved, held them together. Running from the lock was a silvery
chain that followed the crotch and attached to another engraved padlock in the
back.

Mac read the advertising piece in the box. “It’s a chastity
belt.”

“No shit? That’s primeval.”

He nodded. “I definitely want to see you in this.” Settling
it on his head like a hat, he dug for more treasure.

Despite the obvious sexism in a modern-day chastity belt and
all this other stuff, Jodi couldn’t deny her excitement. She stopped breathing
when Mac reached one of the more decadent items—a vintage-looking garter belt
with leather slave bracelets attached. Once the Dom had secured his sub’s
wrists, she couldn’t move her arms as he used her breasts or cunt.