Body of Work (22 page)

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Authors: Karla Doyle

Tags: #erotica

BOOK: Body of Work
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“But?”

“But, um, with commercial work, the background is often…often…” Her knees buckled, but she didn’t fall. Not with Brian’s thickly muscled arm holding her in place while he tortured her by increasing the friction between her legs.

“The background is often what?”

“Added in later by graphic artists.” The words tumbled in a near-incoherent stream as she strained to get more pressure where she needed it.

“Cool,” he said, withdrawing his hand before she crested over the edge. “Show me something else.”

“But—aren’t you going to—I didn’t—”

“I know.” He chuckled and turned her in his arms. “Neither did I, cutie.”

“I’d be happy to fix that for you. Is it true what they say about men who wear kilts?” The twill reached his knees, but she got her hand underneath easily enough. Yup, nothing but fine, bare buns under there. She dragged her nails around his hip, smiling victoriously when he moved back to grant her access to his cock. “I’m going to lobby for you to wear these more often.” She pumped his erection with a tight fist. “I’m a fan of this easy access to my favorite toy.”

A deep laugh filled the room. “Is it now? I’ve seen the contents of your nightstand drawer.”

“I don’t need any of that stuff,” time to go for it, tell him, if only a little, “as long as I have you.”

He smiled as if she’d given him the best compliment ever. Bent and kissed her, claiming her again. Soft lips, firm control. His tongue danced with hers. A palm on her behind brought her forward, crushing them together, trapping her hand and his rigid cock between their bodies.

Maybe this would be a good time to point out she had a bed in her studio. Or tell him to bend her over the end of the couch. Up against the wall would do nicely too.

“Are you ready?” He breathed the question into her ear, making her shiver.

“God yes.”

“Then let’s get going.” A hearty smack on her behind and he stepped away, leaving her gaping like a goldfish.

“That’s it? What about…you know.”

“Later.” He followed up with a wink. “Worth waiting for, don’t you think?”

Oh now she got it. He wanted to play the tease-you-until-you’re-frantic game. No problem—two could play at that. “I can wait. Oh, and I hope you like the color blue.” Because that would be the state of his balls before this game ended.

* * * * *

 

Ten minutes into the half-hour drive to his parents’ house, Cassie unfastened her seat belt. Given how long it’d taken him to convince her to ride in the Jeep with the top and doors off, and the way she’d white-knuckled the roll-bar when he took the corner onto the back road, something had to be up. He looked her way long enough to see the mischievous smile decorating her full lips. Oh yeah, something naughty was definitely going through that pretty head.

“It’s going to be a hot one today.”

Innocent chitchat? He’d bite. “I like the heat. You?”

“Mmm-hmm. The hotter things get, the better.”

He had to chuckle at that one. The blush on Cassie’s cheeks gave her away—this conversation had zero to do with the weather.

Today her nails were painted a Caribbean blue. Nice, especially in contrast to the white shirt, whose buttons they were flicking open one by one. She pulled the ends free from her skirt. Reached inside and unhooked a skin-colored bra, pulled it out one armhole and tossed it aside. She slid the sleeveless shirt off her shoulders, letting it pool around her elbows. Not fully topless, but fully fucking sexy. Hell, she could wear anything—or nothing—and he’d get hard just from looking at her.

A prime example was yesterday, when she tried on the ugly dress from the back of her closet. She’d even put on granny panties. Giant, god-awful underwear he could hardly believe she owned. And what’d he done? Laid her out on the coffee table, pushed the cotton briefs to one side and tongued her ’til she came on his face, then pinned her arms to her side and fucked her hard enough to move that huge-ass piece of metal and glass a foot across the floor. Today’s exercise in abstinence and patience was one stupid fucking plan.

Christ, was it ever. Cassie turned under her refastened seat belt, facing him with a coy grin and very pert nipples. Sexy. Adorable. Totally destroying him and he loved it.

If he thought he couldn’t get more distracted, he’d thought wrong. She dragged those blue nails all over her skin, leaving faint red tracks he wanted to trace with his tongue. “That’s hot. You’re hot.” He spread his legs to accommodate his expanding cock. “I love your nipples.”

“You mean these little things…” She caught each one between her thumb and index finger and pulled, stretching them and making herself moan.

“Yeah. I’m pulling over so I can do that.”

“Oh no, you’re not.” She cupped the objects of his attention, hiding them from view. “Some things are worth waiting for, don’t you think?”

“Fuck.” Burned.

“I’ll assume that’s a yes. Time to move on.” She’d obviously studied his kilt some, because she reached across and found the opening in the time it took him to blink.

“Cassie,” he hissed as she stroked him while arranging his kilt to her liking. She slipped the shoulder belt under her arm so she could lean over. He knew what to expect, but when she lowered her head and sealed her lips around his tip—holy fucking hell. He was going to drive into the ditch and kill them both.

Up and down she worked him. Her tongue flattened against his shaft, her cheeks hollowed from suction, her teeth scraped the head, nice and rough, the way he liked. So good. Air hit his dampened cock as she let him pop free of her mouth.

He cupped the back of her head before she could right herself. “Not so fast, you’re not done down there.” Thank god they were alone on the rural road. Gave him leeway with the lanes while he met her eyes. Defiance—yeah, it was there. A hint of it, ringing the giant pupils that told him how badly she wanted to give in, give him what he wanted. What she wanted too.

Little pixie dropped a closed-mouth kiss on his tip, then slipped out of his grip. “Later.”

If they were at home, he’d have her on her knees for that, sucking him until he couldn’t take one more second. But this was a different game. One that made him laugh out loud, despite the heat she’d stirred at the base of his cock. “I look forward to later.”

“So do I.” She picked up her bra and twirled it, but made no move toward covering up.

Taunting him? All right, then. “There’s a little farming town ahead. We’re going to pass some houses, a gas station and a couple of stores. You’re going to make their day.”

“Oh crap.” She hurried to refasten her bra and shirt, finishing the job as they slowed for the residential area. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The town boasted one stop sign at the main crossroads. The Jeep rolled to a full stop and he leaned across for a taste of her juicy pink lips. “The warning was mostly selfish, though. I’m not interested in sharing you with anybody, not even gawkers at a distance.”

Her smile wavered as he accelerated. Once they’d cleared the town, he took a longer look in his peripheral vision. No more playfulness. She stared out the windshield, but he doubted she saw any of the trees overhanging the road or the fluffy clouds in the brilliant blue sky. Not with the faraway expression she wore.

“What’s going on in there?” he asked, stroking the soft, loose waves of hair by her temple. Under his fingers, she shook her head slightly. “Come on, tell me.” Her eyes were wide as ever, beautiful as always, but definitely unsettled. Shit. “Did I do something? I’ll try to fix it, whatever it is.”

“It’s what you said about not sharing me.”

Not the answer he’d expected. At all. “Is this where I find out you’re into three-ways?”

“Oh my god, no. No, no, no.”

“Good.”

“Really? You don’t have some secret fantasy to have two women at once?”

The question made him squirm a little, so he used the moment to settle his kilt back into a respectable position. “Pretty sure all heterosexual men have had that fantasy.” In his case, he’d done more than fantasize, he’d lived it. A couple of times. “But I’m past mine. I love watching you get off—fuck, I get hard thinking about the way your eyes glaze over and your mouth falls open when you come—but the idea of anybody else taking you to that point, even another woman, makes me want to smash things.”

“What if it was the other way around? You wouldn’t like to watch me eating some hot chick’s pussy?”

This had to be a test. “No.”

“And you wouldn’t like permission to fuck another woman, maybe from behind while she sucks my nipples and I rub myself off?”

Stupid, traitorous cock, rising to the suggestions coming out of Cassie’s mouth. Casually, he placed a hand over his lap. “Definitely not.”

“Because I won’t do those things for you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “The day I’m not enough, turn around and walk away.”

The words were directed at him, but the tension beneath them came from somewhere else. Somebody else. And from the bits and pieces she’d told him so far, he had a good idea who.

“Hey,” he closed a hand over her thigh, “I’m not him. I’m never going to be him.”

Her head fell back against the seat and turned his way. “I know that. I do.”

He slowed for the bend that rolled into his hometown, catching her hand for a squeeze once they’d cleared it. “For the record, the same goes for me. I won’t give you permission to be with another man. The only other cock that’s getting near you while we’re together is the artificial kind.”

“What about Trevor?” she whispered, not looking at him. “Ow, Brian, my fingers…”


Fuck.
Sorry.” He dropped her hand and administered the death grip to the wheel instead. “Whatever happened in that prick’s office, whatever he asked for, tell me now.” Stupid, selfish ass. He should never have agreed to let her
help
with his boss.

“Nothing happened. He insisted we discuss details of the Iron Works job over a nice dinner. He didn’t touch me or demand anything, but he’s so,” her hands wrung in her lap, “pervy. And after what he said to you about wanting a crack at me…what if that means sexually? What if he expects more than a conversation and dinner?”

The leather-wrapped steering wheel squeaked under his grip. Yeah, more was exactly what Trevor had in mind. Brian knew it because Trevor had all but spelled it out. Trevor wouldn’t rape Cassie—he’d expect her to willingly open her legs for him on Saturday night. Brian had essentially pimped out his girlfriend to the scum of the earth. For a job, for fuck’s sake.

“He’ll give you the gym project. Have the dinner meeting, thank him up and down so he knows how important he is, then leave—alone. I can wait in the parking lot if you’re worried.” And he
would
wait, even if she declined, just to be sure.

“That’ll satisfy him enough to save your job?”

The options in front of him sucked. The truth would be like pressuring her to get naked with Trevor. A lie was, well, a lie. He didn’t deal in those.

He decelerated at the edge of town. Focused on the familiar houses and hundred-year-old maples that lined Main Street. At Young Street, he hung a right, then another right onto Smithson Avenue. Half a block up, he parked in front of the two-story of his childhood and killed the engine. He released his seat belt and faced her. Time up, he needed to answer.

“It might be enough, it might not.” He cupped her soft face. God, she was perfect. Beautiful, sexy, talented and
his
, damn it. “It’s only a job. And the conditions I agreed to for that job are my fault. I don’t regret breaking the terms to be with you, regardless of what happens.”

Her seat belt clicked free. She shimmied as close as the Jeep’s bucket-seating would allow and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I really want to make out with you right now. Do you think anybody’s watching?”

One glance toward the house confirmed what he would’ve guessed. “Definitely. Dad’s in the driveway, Mom’s staring at us through the front window.” He dropped one hand to her leg, then snuck it up the middle of her skirt and under the strip of material between her legs. “But don’t let that stop you from climbing onto my lap and sticking your tongue in my mouth.”

“Brian…” She wriggled and bit into her bottom lip. “Stop that.”

“I told you I’d make you come later. It’s later.” He eased two fingers inside her while working her clit with his thumb. “And you’re so wet, I know you want to. A little one, before my dad gets to the Jeep. You’ve got about ten seconds.”

“Oh god, seriously?”

He laughed as she scrambled backward in her seat. “I underestimated, you probably had eighteen seconds.”

“You’re horrible,” she said, then, “I’m not all hot-and-bothered looking, am I?”

“You’re perfect, baby.” He leaned over for a kiss before she could protest. “Come meet the family.”

* * * * *

 

Dinner with the Blacks. Easy peasy, they seemed like nice people. A little in-your-face, but in a well-meaning way.

Angus, Brian’s dad, had gathered her into a massive bear hug as soon as she stepped out of the Jeep, lifting her off the ground as if she were a child. Compared to him, she was built like one. Angus and Brian were on par for height at six-two, the older man’s shoulders as wide as his son’s. The ginger hair and beard must have been part of the DNA too, though Angus’ was longer on top and on the chin.

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