Gorgeous Rotten Scoundrel (11 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I ran towards the stairs, but then stopped abruptly, made a 180 degree turn and shot to the liquor cabinet, taking down two swigs of tequila. Yup, tequila; just like that night in the sand garden, I needed some liquid cojones stat. The rush of warmth came over me and I instantly felt loose, then headed back up the stairs and busted through the bedroom door.

"Who was it?" Heath asked, bewildered by my rough entrance.

"Just the FedEx guy. I was expecting a package."
Oh god. That line sounded straight out of a terrible porno.

"At this time? Why are you so out of breath?"

"Shut up."

"Huh? What?"

"Just shut up before I change my mind."

"Wha--okay." I whipped off my shirt so that all I had on was a bra and silk pajama short-shorts. "Woah."

"Let's do this. That is if you want to." There went my self doubt kicking in.
I should've had another swing of
t
equila.
Why can't I just be that sexy vixen in all the books?

"May I speak again?"

"Yes."

"Hell to the mother fucking yes."

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath and removing my shorts so that all I had on was a bra and thong.

Heath kind of melted in his spot on the bed. Having this insanely hot man do that at the sight of my body shot me with a jolt of confidence.

"You are fucking awesome. In every way," Heath said, with a smile from ear to ear.

"Oh really?" I said, unclipping and removing my bra. Now, I'll admit, I am rather well-endowed thanks to my Italian grandma.
Gratzi Nonna!

"Wow. Your tits are fan-fucking-tastic. You need to come over here, like yesterday."

"Okay, here I come," I said as seductively as I could muster.

I crawled in from the foot of the bed, instantly realizing this was going to be a failed attempt at sex appeal, knocking into his casts several times.

"Ahh," he sighed under his breath.

"Oh god, I am so sorry. Maybe I should come around sideways," I said fumbling over his giant encased legs as I doubled back.

I walked over to the side of the bed, using my fingertips to pick up his sling from the bed, and flung it. Heath smirked as his eyes followed its arc across the room, then they came back to me as he licked his lips. He reached his hand over to me and gently glided his fingertips along my waistline and down to my hips, I squirmed.

"You're ticklish too."

"Very."

"I would come to you, but," he tilted his chin down and raised his eyebrows to remind us of his mobility issues.

"That's okay. I can come on you--to you."

"Why don't you take those off first," he pointed to my thong with his nub.

"Certainly, Mr. Hillabrand."

"Ooh, I like that...Mr. Hillabrand. I never commanded the respect that I should have as your boss. I think it's high time."

I slid off my underwear so that now I was completely naked in front of him: exposed, bare, in the exact position I promised I would never allow myself to be when I first met him. But I should have known better, some people just have to fuck, it's in the stars or something. I reached my left hand into his boxers. He was already firm. I knew his sexual appetites were large and that my one handjob left him craving much more. I could certainly tell based on how hard he was.

I grabbed his firmness all the while thinking to myself
I cannot believe I am about to fuck a Calvin Klein model.
He grabbed a handful of ass.

"Are you going to make me wait any longer?"

I carefully mounted him. "Is this okay? Does it hurt?" I asked.

"Even if it did I wouldn't give a shit. I have been wanting to do this ever since I first saw you on the other side of my door."

"You mean when you had just finished fucking Illy?"

"Fuck Illy. Get down here." I leaned over and my breasts grazed his chest, hardening my nipples. We were nose to nose for a moment, our eyes locked, but it was different than it was the night of the party when we kissed. Now we knew each other. When I looked into his eyes, I didn't just see aesthetic perfection, I saw him, I saw the small creases that formed when he
smized.
He IS a model, they have smizing down to a science.
It made me suddenly meek, because this wasn't a purely physical encounter, we were committed to each other, at least until he got better. We binge-watched TV, took long walks, ate our meals together, laid on his bed and discussed nothing at all for hours sometimes. And he saw this in my eyes, because he grinned that fucking grin, the one that makes my stomach turn because it's so damned cute and then we both laughed, nose to nose. I turned my chin down as I tried to hide my girlish smile. I'm not a sex kitten, I don't wear my sexuality on my sleeve. It's not that I don't think I'm attractive, but at heart, I am just a girl who likes to cook, I'm simple that way. But occasionally I meet a guy who makes me think pretty much exclusively with my pussy and then all I can think about is rubbing it all over him. He was that person times a thousand.

He lifted my chin up. I could see in his eyes he was wincing, but he wanted to do this. He wanted to make sure I looked into his eyes, and so I didn't kill the moment by asking if he was okay. He was a big boy (in more ways than one) and he knew what he was doing. He kissed me. This time it was slow, it lingered, it was sweet like honey. Instantly, it calmed me. I didn't feel that nervous pit of performance anxiety or fear that I would not live up to the many models he's fucked. That kiss told me he was exactly where he wanted to be.

Then I really leaned in. I wanted to consume him, I had the first bite and now it was game over, I wanted all of him. His right arm, trapped in its cast, rested to the side, but that only meant his left arm went double time, running his fingers through my long hair, grabbing a fist full and pulling it at the roots so he could access and suckle on my neck.
Omgthisisreallyhappeningdotcom.
Then he pulled harder, while clenching his jaw, so I would elevate further and he softly kissed my breast at its peak. At this point my crotch was on fire, in the best possible way. Then he stopped, directing my head back down so my eyes would meet his.

"I owe you something."

"Wuh?" All my blood was in my clitoris at this point, so understanding sentences was very difficult.

"I'll need you to do me a favor though and sit on my face. Would you do me the honor?"

I nodded, wide-eyed, and slid myself over his perfect face, resting my hands on the headboard.

"Mmmm..." he said before kissing her softly, tauntingly. Then he guided his tongue through my lips, gliding the tip from the back end up to the clit. I moaned, losing myself in the moment. It had been a long time since I had been with a guy, about a year in fact. Between the eye candy, the excitement, the pent-up sexual frustration, and the physical stimulus, I was about to blow a gasket. His mouth and my pussy just had a party down there. I mean New Years Eve level party: the sucking, this kissing, the licking, all done in perfect ratios and tempos. This is when it helps to fuck a slut--they have had tons of practice to get it right, like the Carnegie Hall of cunnilingus.

Honestly, I came really quickly, almost embarrassingly so, like a boy who nuts in his pants while playing seven minutes in heaven. But really, that was just the appetizer (I love food metaphors, can you tell?), because I still wanted him inside of me. Seriously, it was like all "fire in the hole!" and the only way to put it out was with his cock. So I slid back down and kissed his lips, which were made even softer from kissing my other lips.

I grabbed his cock, rubbing it against my wet labia, readying it to slide inside of me. All I could think about was riding him and releasing all the tension I felt inside my body and thoughts. Then Heath's voice broke through: "Sadie...maybe we should--well, we should--wrap it up?"

"Huh?" The prospect of sex with him plummeted my IQ and innuendo did not seem to be working with me. It was like my attraction to him had lulled me into some sort of sex-induced mania.

"Ya know, we wouldn't want the child soldiers planting a flag on Mount Ovary if you get my drift?"

Wait--did he just say what I think he said? Mount Ovary? Lord help us.
"Oh, of course! Yes!
Duh.
" I said, as if I had been thinking about that the entire time.
I had right? I wasn't just about to do him raw? That's what irresponsible and reckless people like Heath do.

Except he was the one reminding ME.

"It's not you. I do this with all of--" He realized he was about to refer to all of the women he sleeps with and surprisingly, had the decency to stop himself.

"Do you...?"

"Yes, right there in the nightstand."

I whipped it open and fumbled with a long, purple, shiny trail of condoms, ripping one off at the perforation, and using my teeth to open the foil. I pulled it out just as Heath and I had a moment of eye contact. His eyes were turned down at the sides, asking a question without words.

"Oh...you need me?" I pointed at myself then at his dick standing at attention as if it was eagerly waiting for me to shroud it.

"Yeah, if you don't mind," he said shrugging his shoulders. "It's not like you haven't had your hands on him before," he said with a satisfied look on his face.
I am going to fuck that stupid grin off of your face in about two seconds.

"Just so you know, I'm on the pill. Trust me, I have no interest in procreating with you," I said, as if trying to regain some sort of credibility in this situation.

Heath didn't say anything. He just watched me with an amused look on his face as I rolled out the condom meticulously, making sure there were no air bubbles, trying to prove what a steward of safe sex I was. But that didn't last very long, because his dick was so hard and thick and as pretty as the rest of him and I
needed
it in at least one of my orifices in the next ten seconds.

I was so ready, because I slid right onto his cock as we both let out a collective sigh. If the oral was New Year's, his dick was like Chinese New Year, dragons, parades, acrobats and all. He brushed my hair back, and smiled at me in such a genuine way. I thought back to his question earlier that evening, this was a gazillion times better than licking orangish-yellow imitation cheese off of the bottom of a bowl.

I wanted to ride him like a unbroken stallion, but he placed his hands on my hips and with a smirk said: "slower babe."
Oh that's right, about 40% of him is broken and did he just call me babe?
I'm glad he slowed me down because it allowed me to really appreciate the feeling of him inside of me. I leaned over him, my hair cascading on either side of his face, so close I heard his shallow breathing, felt his warm breath against my skin. He cupped one of my breasts in his hands and gently pursed his lips around my nipple, placing just the right amount of pressure with his gentle tugs.

That triggered the fireworks portion of the parade in my cooch.

"Fuck," I moaned as I felt the tension build around his throbbing hardness. His dick seemed to hit every possible erogenous zone inside of me.

Again he fisted my hair, tilting my head back, sucking and gently biting all along my neck. I moaned louder.

"Sadie, god your pussy is so sweet," he said, his breathy voice so much heavier than his normally light and carefree manner.

"Heath..." I begged.

"Come for me. Let my dick make you come." His mouth returned to my breast at the exact moment it all went off like a burst of lightening, and we came together with a chorus of
fucks, I'm comings!, Sadies, Heaths,
war cries, and
oh gods.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I rolled off of him, a panting, quivering mess. Oh my god that was everything and then some. Then out of the corner of my eye, I looked over at him, at his satisfied smirk and I wanted to stab myself in the eye.

What the fuck Sadie?
Fuckfuckfuck. You just fucked your boss. Not a handjob, or a kiss, or a flirtation, you just fucked your temporarily handicapped boss ten ways from Sunday and six ways from Saturday! You just gave him what he always wanted. All it took was a couple of weeks and you were spreading your legs wider than Illy's cavernous, used-up vagina.

My body wanted me to lay there, hell maybe even roll over and snuggle with his arm cast, but I had to disappear. I had to salvage any dignity I had left, let him know the ball was still in my court.

Fuck Illy
, he said. Trust me, that sent a jolt through me like you couldn't imagine. He didn't make an excuse or defend her, she wasn't even a thought. But I am sure if Illy was wrapped around his dick, he would have said the same about me. Suddenly, I found myself angry at him over this hypothetical conversation I had just created in my head. I imagined Illy's loud, callous, man-laugh filling the room and Heath turning over to look at me in slow motion, saying "
fuuuuck Saaaaadie muahahaha
" (don't ask me how I would be there to see it).

Before Heath could open his mouth, which knowing him, was an inevitability, I rolled over and dismounted off of the bed.

"Where are you going?" he asked. His confusion seemed so genuine, I almost felt sorry for him.

"To bed," I said, collecting fragments of my wardrobe from various parts of the room. I felt more naked than ever.

"You don't have to go."

"That's okay. Bye," I said as I slipped through the doorway, only opening the door to the precise amount needed to slide out.

As I marched over to my room, I caught myself smiling.
Stop that dammit.
Then the next second, I was balling up my hair at the scalp, wanting to pull it out of my head, then smiling to myself again. And then my heart sank recalling the moment I lost myself, like some sort of moron: I almost forgot to use protection with this skankwhore! Normally, I would already be calling the CDC for a spraydown ala Outbreak, but clearly he seems to be more mindful of this kind of stuff than even me. My stomach swirled with an uneasy feeling thinking about how he made me act so out of character. Heath Hillabrand is bad news...no, he's the
worst
news. But the way he kissed me, it was almost tender. The way he could make me feel like I was the sexiest woman alive, made him irresistible. This couldn't all be a coincidence, could it?

I had to stop myself. I was better than this, I was above my fucking boss's 50s workplace policies. I had worked under Brock for years and I never fucked him, and I know I could have. What was it about Heath that sucked me in like a black hole?
Lawd, help me.

Then in the way that you only remember shit when you are laying in bed, it occurred to me that Mindy would be visiting tomorrow, late morning. I instantly panicked imagining myself opening the door only for her to see SEXWHORESEXWHORESEX stamped all over my face. Mindy was sharper than an old man's toenails and she was in the people business. Sometimes I swore she had ESP. But alas, she was coming and there was nothing I could do but pretend I didn't taste Heath's sweet lips, feel his warm chest against mine, enjoy his wet lips on my nipples...nope, we just played checkers or some shit.

***

The morning after, I didn't do my usual check in with Heath because I wanted to lengthen the amount of time before I saw him after the whole dick riding thing that took place between us the night before. I texted him so he wasn't just sitting there with his thumb up
my
his ass (mistake and it's staying there) to let him know that I would be arriving soon with his breakfast. I know, nothing says "business as usual" as texting someone whose room you just walked by and could have easily spoken with. Not awkward in the least bit.

Eventually, I came upstairs with the food tray and took one lung-busting breath before using my elbow to open his bedroom door.

"Good morning," he said, more chipper than ever.

"Morning," I said curtly. He had to understand that last night meant nothing. The ball was still in my court, I didn't need him, hell I didn't even want him, except when I did.

We silently went through the morning ritual of getting him in his chair, which was easier now that he was several weeks away from the accident and healing nicely.

I ate my food silently. The chirps of birds and our forks clanking against our plates were the only sounds on the patio. I was stewing in self-hatred. How could I have fucked this pompous ass? Sure, just like Mindy said, assholes make great friends, but that's only if you never crossed the line, and I didn't just cross the line, the line fingered me, then I gave it a handjob, then it fucked me and ate me out.
I am such an idiot.

That's when I noticed him looking up coyly at me from his plate, hiding a grin. That sly look on his face was like an invisible force tugging on my panties.

"What is it?" I said firmly, taking a sip from my morning tea.

"Are we going to play this charade every time? I'll admit it's cute, but it's a bit of a mindfuck. Maybe that's what you're going for. I don't know." I hated how blunt he was. Couldn't he just deal with innuendo and mixed signals like the rest of us human beings?

"There's no charade," I said casually.

"It would be a lot easier on you if you just admitted to yourself that it's okay to want me. I get it, I'm awesome."

"As if."

"I'm not even sure what that means."

"Don't flatter yourself is what I am saying."

He laughed in disbelief. "Am I living in another dimension? You rode me last night. You came to me and told me to shut up and fucked me. There, I said it!"

"So, what do you want me to do? Write a dissertation on it?"

"I want you to stop being such a fucking coward." Woah, that veered sharply into WTF territory. Heath and his not-quite non-sequiturs.

"Don't call me that."

"You fucking take what you want from me when you want it and then run away when you're done and you are goddam lucky I can't chase you."

"You mean what you do to everyone else? Someone can't take what they dish. What, you expect me to fawn all over you? I know your game, and I am not going to play into it. I am not the one!"

"So, that's what you think of me, some kind of emotional puppetmaster?"

"Not quite, since that would take cunning. You are a pompous, egotistical, arrogant, rude, tactless, asshole."

"God you're a bitch. I don't have to take your attitude, I have been more than nice to you. You know what you are, you are an uptight...yeah I know you love that don't you? Uptight, stuck-up, prissy, prudish, snob. And your pussy is wound up so tight that whenever I get close to it, you don't even know what to do with yourself."

I froze for a moment. That barrage of words might have been the most he has ever strung together since we met. I had taken advantage of his laid-back manner. He was an asshole, but in a dismissive way, not an aggressive way. But now I did it. I triggered something in him that royally pissed him off. And that was the point, I think, to turn him against me, to make him hate me, so that he would push me away and fucking wouldn't be an option. My plan was working, but why did it ache when he said those words? And why in holy hell was my crotch lighting up?

"Fuck you. I don't owe you an explanation and I don't need to take this. Mindy's coming later and she doesn't know shit and she better not know. You're on your own until then." Clear. Now all I had to do was march back into the house and this argument would have bought me (hopefully) another day without wondering what his dick would taste like in my mouth. I stood up sharply and turned to walk away, but then I felt a firm grip on my wrist. I tried to pull away, but it was solid, which was surprising considering how inactive he had been from the shoulder injury.

He pulled me back hard so that I stumbled towards him, and as I got closer he quickly pulled my night shirt so that I landed on his lap and the monument he had erected for me in his boxers.

I let out a hiss of air through my teeth. Just feeling his hard cock on my backside made all of my manufactured rage convert into something else.

"Sadie, I'm sick of playing fucking games with you and I am sick of your bullshit." He ran his hand up my back, over my ribcage and onto my breast, letting out a breath as he squeezed it. "I fucking love your tits." I was frustrated by his inability to really ravage me like I knew he wanted to. When those casts came off, all hell was going to break loose if we kept up this pace.

I clenched the arms of the wheelchair, pressing my toes to the floor to keep it from wandering away. My heart was speeding at a rate that I was sure was reserved for meth-heads, and then he slid his fingers over my mouth. I grabbed his large hand by the thumb and ring finger and mouth-fucked his fingers, wetting them, knowing what he would do next.

He took his hand and pulled up my night shirt.

"You're not wearing panties. I fucking knew it." And now I knew it, Heath was smart, he was calculated: there was the playful Heath, the non-threatening Heath and he used that to make me feel secure, like I was in control, but now he knew I wanted him so badly that I was lying to myself, and this gave him that power that I was so scared to turn over to him. But,
ooh
did it feel so good.

He slid his forefinger and ring finger inside of me, rubbing his palm against my clit. I leaned back, feeling his heaving chest against my back. He was sweaty, the sun was already heating up the balcony on this summer morning. My nipples stung against the thin fabric of my nightie, and I was feeling him all over my body, even on places he wasn't touching, like little firecrakers on my nerve endings.

His thick cock throbbed against my tailbone and I rubbed my ass against it. I wanted him inside me again, I needed him inside me again. I pulled my nightshirt all the way past my hips, a visual invitation.

"Your ass is so juicy," he said, biting my neck.
Who is this guy that looks like this and talks like this? Where
do
they manufacture these?
"God you are so wet, you're soaking my shorts," he said, pleased with himself I'm sure. I kept grinding against him,
let's do this
, I thought. I stood up a little, hoping he would pull his shorts down, I knew he wanted to fuck me, his dick was nearly ready to burst.

"Nuh uh. I'm not playing your little bitchy games."

"Whuha?" I asked breathlessly. He lifted his hand up to the top of my nightie, which had a racer back tank, and gripped the two ends of the top towards the center of my breasts, so they both popped out and were propped up by the way the nightie now framed them. I could see our transparent reflection in the sliding doors in front of us, and we looked so beautifully strange and twisted: his gorgeous body still covered in casts, my soft curves against the harsh white, his face-- that fucking amazing face that I rode the night before.

I leaned my head back and rubbed my cheek against him as he sucked on my neck, my cheeks, the edges of my lips, tugging them, pulling them so that it almost hurt, but then releasing them so they popped back. Our lips grazed as my hips ground against him begging to fuck me; my moans grew louder.

"Stop."

He left the tank top, which stayed put, nicely displaying my breasts and flattened his hand against my hips. He sensed I was about to come and he was right, he had me so hot that I was about to come from rubbing on his lap. I stopped and so did the sounds of our moans, so that now there was just bated panting with the backdrop of birds chirping. My first instinct was to protest, but I was still angry at him and felt that I needed to maintain the silent treatment, because, you know, it was
so effective
. I just wanted him to straight fuck me without any sort of dialogue so I wouldn’t have to truly think about the fact that I found myself riding his dick AGAIN.

"I'm not going to play your fucking games anymore. If you want me to fuck you, then ask me to do it and I will do it wholeheartedly."

I clenched my lips, and I swear in the distance I heard the teeny tiny high-pitched voice of my pussy screaming:
Do it bitch! Tell him to stick his delicious cock inside of you!
I bit my lip. I needed to be defiant, I mean he called me all those horrible things. And yeah, so did I to him, but I was right!

"I guess you don't want it then." His lips were so close, I could feel them tickling my neck as he said this. I was so engorged, so full of arousal that for the first time I think I understood what blue balls might feel like. It wasn't even a choice anymore, I needed to feel him inside of me.

"That's okay. We don't have to do anything you don't want, Sadie. He slid his hand over my breasts, hyper-faintly rubbing one of my nipples. My hips involuntarily gyrated. "No. Not until you tell me like an adult what you want to do here. No shame, no looking away and pretending it didn't happen."

And then the rat-bastard ran his hand down my stomach, then in between my thighs, and massaged me again while his tongue licked a trail from my shoulder to the nape of my neck.

"Fuck me. Just fuck me," I said; my queen had fallen just when I thought I had the winning move.

He balled up the nightie and I pulled out his dick, I couldn't get it in me fast enough. And this time we both lost our senses, even though he made me ask, he wanted it just as badly and as urgently as I did. When I slid onto him, I can't even tell you the surge that emanated from in between my legs to every extremity. I let out a quivering cry of pleasure, he had made me want it more than I ever thought I could. He wrapped his arm across my frontside, clenching my right breast, gaining leverage so that every time I lifted off of his cock, he pressed me back down, going in deep...so deep. My ears filled with the violent creaking of the metal wheelchair and his breathing and stifled moans into my neck. His other arm, still in a cast, wrapped around my waist, I clawed at it and his arm, almost suffocating under his grip and my desire. I was fighting him, fighting myself, fighting how badly I wanted him inside of me with each thrust. But he understood, and held firm, I think I was loud, really loud, because he covered my mouth.