Gorgeous Rotten Scoundrel Page 11

  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.

  "Goddam, Sadie. Everything about you, your taste, your smell...the feel of your wet pussy..." I think I cried out his name with some other nonsense. The thought crossed my mind the neighbors might think Heath was killing me. "I can't...I'm about to..." I knew he was trying to warn me, but knowing that I was so desirable to him that Mr. Sex couldn't keep his dick from exploding inside of me set me off. We didn't--couldn't--stop this time and even pretend to be responsible adults.

  Then I exploded, tensing, clenching, grabbing at him frantically, his cast, his hands, as if the feeling was so good I needed to escape my own body, but had no where to go. He kept his hands on my mouth and fought me, pressing me against him, and I felt his tenseness disappear as he released a guttural groan into my neck.

  Seriously, I was frightened. I didn't know what just happened, I had never been fucked like that. It was almost violent and it jarred something in me. All I wanted to do was stay guarded since I met him, but this was a total unraveling, I came undone on his lap and lost complete control.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  As seemed to be the frequent case during those days I was cooped up and isolated with Heath, I lost track of time. I glanced over at the digital clock in his room and saw the time: 10:35am.

  "Shitshitshit!" I exclaimed, panicked, yet glad have an excuse to escape the dense air around me. I couldn't even look him in the eyes right now. I tried to dismount Heath, but I stumbled, not realizing how weak in the knees I still was.

  "What is it?"

  "Remember, your manager is coming over! And you know she's always on time. I have to shower. And you...shit!"

  "Take a breath. I have an arm now, I can handle the whole waterless bath, not that I needed your help before. I cannot fucking wait to get these casts removed."

  "Just a few days," I said, out of breath as I scrambled to put everything back on the tray. "Wait, what?"

  "Huh?"

  "What did you say about not needing my help?" I knocked over an empty glass.

  "You can get it later," he said.

  "Are you implying that whole thing was some sort of ploy?"

  "Just trying to get you to not go all dark on me."

  "You don't drop a nugget like that and then tell me to leave. I should stab you with this fork!" And shit for a moment I forgot about how I quivered around his cock and yelled out, how he bit into my neck, how he swelled inside of me as he came...and I looked him in the eyes. And just for a fragment of a second, there was a knowing look, that there would be a pre-balcony fuck Heath and Sadie, and a post-balcony fuck Heath and Sadie. Then everything went back to its normal pace. I didn't feel like I had to assure him that Mindy shouldn't know, I think he knew whatever was happening between us, we should keep between ourselves.

  "I was just messing with you. I wanted to get you to talk. Now go!"

  I ran into the shower, letting the hot water rain onto my body, and now under the calm of the soothing spray, I relived it all in my head. I watched the droplets roll over the spots where he touched me, where I swear I could still feel his squeezes and his bites on my skin. And I'll be damned if I wasn't getting horny all over again. I pressed a hand against the shower wall, ducked my head, and just rested there for a moment to collect my thoughts. I felt like I was losing it, like some stupid fucking juvenile who couldn't stop herself from obsessing over a crush. I couldn't make logical decisions around this man. He had me under some type of dicknosis. Over and over, I had to remind myself to breathe, because every time I thought of him, I would involuntarily stop. And mother of all things big and small, he was temporarily handicapped! I think I might actually drop dead if he fucked me while all of his limbs were in working order. That would be very soon. His fractures were healing nicely and the doctor said he would be out of the chair and on crutches by the end of the week. But there was no more time for ruminating because Mindy would be here any minute.

  Luckily we planned on hanging out at the pool so I didn't have to think much about my wardrobe. I threw on a coverup and ran back into Heath's room to snatch something from his bikini drawer.

  "Oh hey." He seemed pleasantly surprised to see me back so quickly.

  "Just need to grab one of these if you don't mind."

  "Not at all."

  "Are you good?"

  "All cleaned up, I might need some help getting on some trunks. These elephant legs make it impossible."

  "Of course," I said, rummaging through the drawer trying to make odds and ends of the mess of bikinis. I silently attempted to calculate what the number of bikinis translated into as far as sexual partners. Thank god he's responsible when it comes to wrapping up
his johnson. I totally just lost my shit on that balcony.

  "The green one," he said.

  "The one I wore when I first got here?" I didn't expect such a conservative choice.

  "No, it's in there. Emerald green. It would look nice on your olive skin." It sounded sweet, almost endearing, but when I pulled it out I understood the real reason. It was all strings and triangles, but dammit, the truth was I wanted him to see me prancing around the pool in this thing.

  I hastily put it on in my room (even though he had seen me completely naked, I was no where near freely dressing around him) and I returned to Heath. He was waiting on his wheelchair with his shorts resting on his lap, a single rogue tendril resting on his forehead, like a kid waiting for his mom to dress him. Fucking adora--STOP.

  I was in such a rush that I forgot to throw on my cover up. I pulled off his boxers, pretending I wasn't just begging for him to stick that very dick inside of me twenty minutes ago. He had a semi again (I honestly had not yet seen his penis in a flaccid state around me), and then it grew steadily.

  "Wow, you wear that bikini well."

  "Thank you," I said as if he has just complimented my choice of mutual fund.

  "I thought you weren't going to do this again."

  "I'm not!" I said, wrangling the shorts over his casts. How was I supposed to act? Was there a textbook for how to act after your boss fucks you scared? When he makes you question your sense of ethics? When you live with him, bathe him, take him for walks...oh AND he's a fucking model? Because if there is, I'll one-click a bitch.

  He's used to people being all googly eyed, all "call me whenever you want baby," but every time we did something, I convinced myself it would be the last time, including this last time.

  The doorbell rang as if Mindy really possessed some sort of manager sixth sense that I had always suspected. She was really saving my ass today.

  "I'll be back," I said, running down to greet her.