Ballistic (26 page)

“This dick ain’t gonna suck itself,” he said, jerking it like he stole it from his momma. (HUH?) Turning away to look for my clothes, he grabs my wrist, no doubt thinking I owe him something.

Taking my arm back and grabbing my shirt
, I roll my eyes at the idiot before me. “I bet if you could reach it, you’d never leave the house,” I tell him, rooting around for my bra. “In fact, if you could suck your own dick it would go a long way toward you keeping your mouth shut. I’m all for making that happen.”

“What’s your name
, again?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I t
old him, grabbing my bag. “You don’t matter and that dick you’re beating the hell out of doesn’t matter either. Take another step toward me,” I growl, reaching into my bag, “and I’ll blow your hand off. If I do that, your dick would thank me, for sure. Poor little thing.”

Of course he took another step while yanking on it. Producing my 9mm I hold it loosely in my hand
. My baby has no safety. She’s a point and shoot, and I love her for her sassiness. “You have a gun,” he said, blinking while still working himself over.

“I do,” I
told him. “As well as other shit to do. It’s been real, what’s your name?”

When he continues to blink at me, I’m honestly stunned with a gun in the room his hard on is the priority here. “That’s right I forgot, it doesn’t matter.”

Slamming the door and two timing it down the steps, I seriously have to wonder if my life will ever improve. There wasn’t enough alcohol or bribery to get me to give it up to that asshole. God, I miss Jules. She would never behave this way. If she knew this was how I spent my free time, she’d be so disappointed. Does that stop me from sleeping around? No. It just makes it that much harder afterward.

I don’t know what to do. There’s this part of me that, once he explained he wasn’t trying to hurt me, that wanted to beg him to. I wanted to see how far he would go. The other part, rational part, was appeased with his explanation and didn’t want pain at all. It just wanted to be close to him. Of all the dark and twisted things I’ve allowed to be done to me, I realize, I never once asked to be spanked.

He spanked me.

Turns out I was really turned on by it, which scared the hell out of me too. I’ve slept around, spread my legs, got in, got my pain and got out. Sex before Anthony was a lot of things, but it was never personal. But in a short time with him, he’s shown me what I really needed and it wasn’t pain. It was trust. His brand of control isn’t overdone, it is just the right mix.

When he declared my ass
, his ass, I got it, and for some weird reason I was even okay with it. More than okay with it. This is not me. Although, I don’t think it’s normally him, either. I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but this might be…us.

When the rightness of it all hit me, I didn’t mention my quirk and decided if I didn’t have the desire for it then
, there was no use in making it a hostile situation. Because Anthony Gallo would not approve of choking me. Anthony Gallo would not approve of hurting me in any fashion, and I knew that for certain. Just as I knew he was able to give me everything I needed. Feeling as a weight had been lifted, I decline his shirt and march my sassy ass down to the kitchen…naked. I know I have a big ass and if his mouth hanging open is anything to go by, he’s an ass man.

A girl has to appreciate that. And if he got off on staring at a red ass because of his hand? All the better.

When he comes down wearing only his snug briefs and an impressive woody, I throw up an amen and wonder if I’ve been too hasty in thinking the man upstairs wasn’t keeping an eye on me. Seriously, this man had “made in heaven” written all over him. Looking at him, I smile and look up to the ceiling. Yep, this was the lord’s work.

After breaking me of my eye fucking, we sip our coffee he
confessed going through my notes. I’m actually relieved because it’s one less thing I have to explain and that wasn’t a conversation I felt like having this morning anyway.

“You’re beautiful,” he says
, looking me up and down. “And just so you know, you’re staying.”

“Am I?”

“Yes,” he says, in his smug way. “You are.”

Uh oh, he’s serious. What’d I miss? “Spill it,” I tell him after taking another sip
.

“Gladly,” he says
, leaning forward. “Last night you asked for a key.” Then he slides one to me across the table. “I told you you’d have it when you woke up and here it is.”

“You got me talking in my sleep again
, didn’t you?”

Shrugging his big shoulders, he smiles
. “Yes,” he admits. “But once you started talking, I couldn’t shut you up. Or rather, wouldn’t shut you up.”

“What---
” What I was about to say was cut off when his phone rang and he informed me he needed to take it. Sitting back in my chair, I suddenly feel vulnerable and being naked didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

“Yes Max,” he says
, answering. “We’re alive. How can I help you?”

His smile gets wider at whatever Max
is saying, then his response is, “Thank you. She’s just fine; her ass is tender, but no worse for the wear.” I couldn’t even lift my cup. Max rolled on me? That’s how he found me! Fucking pillow talker. “Let’s go with determined,” he says. “She’s quite skilled at getting people to do her bidding, I’m proud. My influence is finally wearing off on her.”

That’s it!
It’s one thing that what we do is private, it’s another when he runs his mouth. Mother fucker planned this. “Cocksuckingsonofabitchlyingwhore!”

“See?” he laughs
. “Smooth sailing.” Seconds later, he sobers up. “Not even a little bit,” he says, “That was a lie, by the way.” Disconnecting the phone, he cross his legs at the ankles and says, “Max says hello.”

“He rolled on me
, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

“Jules?”

“Played no part.”

Feeling the truth then thinking on it, I ask, “Now what?”

“Now,” he says
, pulling my chair closer to his, “I need a piece of that ass, it’s mine. I want it.”

When my breathing catches he notices and calls me on it
. “Get on my lap.”

If my vagina was anything to go by, you didn’t have to ask her twice. Fucking traitor.

“Perfect woman, go.”

“Good cook, loves kids, big into family, maybe into dogs and---
”

“Whoa,” he
said, laughing. “Do you want to marry June Cleaver? Bro, she’s old.”

“No
, I don’t want to marry June Cleaver,” I defend. “I just want someone with the same values as me. My mom is a great woman. I’d consider myself lucky to find someone half as amazing as she is.”

“Do you have any idea how that sounds?” he
laughed again. “You have girls begging for your jock every time we go out and you want a girl that cooks and walks dogs? Who gives a shit about that? We’re in college man, they can order you carry out for you, it counts.”

“My parents raised me to respect women, to place value on certain things,” I defend
ed. “I don’t want to sleep with just anyone; I want it to mean something.”

“It does mean something,” he
said, throwing the football to me. “An orgasm.”

After throwing the ball around a while, I had to wonder if Julian wasn’t at least partially right. It’s college
. I should be having fun and if she’s consenting, who cares? Problem was, I cared. I’ve disappointed my parents enough. I didn’t need to add being a slut to it.

So I waited.

When she gets up and straddles me as ordered, I knew I had just unlocked another way of getting through to her. The power that ran through me at the thought was heady. Not allowing the power to go to my head, I do my best to dial it down
, but I find that I can’t. I find that I do not want to. What I want, is to redden that ass repeatedly and for her to demand that I do.

I’ve never played the power position with a woman because I found I didn’t want to be in
her presence any longer than necessary. With her, that isn’t the case. With her I want total control, all the time. I want her to know that she’s safe with me, that I’ll never do anything that she can mistake as abusive. She could have taken my spanking her as wanting to hurt her when in fact I just wanted her attention. Lucky for me, she tends to do the opposite of what I expect but I can’t assume she’ll always do so. There was something about the way she asked if I wanted to hurt her that worried me. It was like she expected me to say yes and wouldn’t have been shocked or insulted by it. I felt like I was being tested and wondered if I’d passed. After seeing how little she cares for her own wellbeing, another change will be how we fuck. I wanted to see if I pegged her correctly.

“Put your arms around my neck,” I command her and when she does it without complaint, I reward her with a kiss to her nose
. “Good girl,” I praise her. “Now wrap your legs around my waist.” Once she’s secure, I lean forward picking her up and walking us over to the sectional. Sitting on the far end so I can stretch out, I order her again, “Put your legs on either side.” She does so I kiss her again, this time on the neck. “Undress me,” and slowly she does. Taking her time she pulls my briefs down to my ankles, then tosses them. Climbing back up to her last position, I just want inside. “Are you wet?” I ask her, reaching for her face and when she nods, I slide my tongue into her mouth which has her grinding on my lap. “Do it,” I order her, watching as she takes me in one hand. “Open yourself up for me, let me see it, then slide it down on me.”

Grinding my jaw and staying still
, I watch as she works herself down on me. When she’s fully seated and breathing heavy, I give her another order. “Fuck me,” I demand. “Hard.” My eyes goes round when she actually does it. No questions asked, she starts bobbing up and down and then working her hips back and forth and I want to come. Now.

“Harder,” I demand
, “or I’m going to redden your ass again, Sherlock.”

That’s when she stills. That’s also when I got it. “You want me to smack your ass
, don’t you?”

Biting her lip she slowly nods her head and before she can blink, I give her a hard thwack on the left cheek and she lets out a beautiful moan. She resumes riding me and I’m content to grab her hips and help out. When she slows again
, I see the game she’s playing, so I spank her even harder. Her fingers dig into my forearms and she gives a small smile, then picks up speed again. “You need to come,” I tell her. “I think I know the best way to make that happen.”

While I thrust
upward, she bears down and so begins our violent rhythm. Freeing one hand, I spank her over and over until she’s wild with pain and passion. Christ, my hands sting, but she doesn’t stop me. Giving her another, she screams out while going even faster, which has me sitting up and tackling her to the ground, needing to be on top of her. Wrapping her legs again, I fuck her without mercy. When her hands sink into my hair and pull hard, I know this is it. “I’m going to come so hard my shit will be dripping between your legs for days,” I growl into her ear. “A reminder of who has been there, owning it. Owning
you
.” She grunts in response and it’s not enough for me, I need words. “Say something, god dammit.”

“Come
,” she orders, spanking
my
ass extremely hard and as it happens I didn’t need a bunch of words. I needed that one.

“Fuck!” I yell as I pound into her so hard that we’re moving the furniture across the floor. When it happens
, everything in me focuses on her. “This is for you,” I growl, feeling it leave me to find a home inside her. “All for you.” Then my body takes over, jerking, twitching and finally collapsing.

Laying there for several minutes
, she’s too quiet. She’s also too still. Rolling myself to the side and pulling the matted hair from her face, I see she’s sound asleep. My heart is tripping over itself seeing her under me so innocent, so giving, so submissive, and so fucking exhausted. In that moment, I am exhausted too.

Carrying her back upstairs, I decide that if she’s sleeping
, I’m sleeping. Turns out, it’s what she needed and I just needed to be close to her. Hours later, I wake first to find her tangled up in me. When her eyes open, she just stares at me. I can’t read her and she doesn’t speak. I have a feeling what went down a few hours ago has her rattled. I’m rattled too. That was new for both of us.

“Are you upset with me?” I ask
, tickling her arm.

“No,” she whispers
.

“Are you sore?” I ask
, rolling her on top of me.

“No,” she says
, tightening her legs.

“Do you regret it?”

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she opens them and then leans in to kiss me firmly on the mouth. “No,” she whispers. “I don’t regret it.”

“Thank fuck,” I grumble
, sitting us up. “Hungry?”

“I have work to do,” she says
, trying to move.

“Work can wait,” I tell her
. “I asked if you were hungry.”

“Yes,” she admits
. “A little.”

A little
, her red ass. We go down to the kitchen where she proceeds to eat every fucking thing I put on her plate— included eggs, sausage, toast and cantaloupe. She isn’t a
little
hungry, she is starving. An hour later when she is dressed and out of the shower and called in on another scene, I take her to work and remind her that we had Jules’ surprise party tonight. Smiling back at me, she says she’ll make it quick and true to her word as always.