LUST

By

Laura B. Cooper

SMASHWORDS EDITION

Published by: Sea Island Press

Shades of Shame

Copyright © 2013 by Laura B. Cooper

All rights reserved under the international
and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without permission in writing from another
publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places,
characters and incidents are either the product of the author's
imagination or are used fictitiously, and resemblance to any actual
persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is
entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work
are 18 years of age or older.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES
ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic
language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please
store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

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work.

I spent the rest of the evening rolling the
thought of Carlton around in my head. I couldn’t help it, and I
know it was definitely not what I needed. What I really needed was
a good night sleep. However, I couldn’t deny my desire for him.
It’d been a long time since I felt this way, and now I’m here all
alone in New York with no one to take care of it.

Rolling onto my side I opened the top drawer
to my bedside table. My usual mess of papers, a sleeping mask, ear
plugs, all those earrings that no longer had a mate, they were all
in there. Somewhere, under all this mess I was sure it was there. I
pushed junk from one side of the drawer to the other until I
finally found it. The little blue bullet.

It wasn’t much to look at, and certainly
evoked no special meaning, especially about sex. It was a little
over five inches, not much wider than my index finger, and its
smooth blue plastic shell hid our special connection. It was the
only one I felt comfortable enough to buy for myself. However, once
turned on its powerful little buzzer was more than enough to
satisfy me. And since my last disappointing relationship, it was
the one thing I could turn to.

I held it tight in my hands, warming it to
my skin as I pulled the covers up to my neck. Perfect, I thought.
Sliding it down my stomach to my mound. I slid it up and down over
my panties. It’s hard plastic shell pressed against my folds, and I
moved it up and down a few times while I readied myself. I could
only imagine what he looked like. My guess was his chest and
abdomen were riddled with muscles, and I imagined running my finger
tips over each and every one as I nuzzled my face into the crook of
his neck. I remembered the smell of his cologne, and thought how
wonderful it would be to smell it again. Strong, masculine, yet
clean and refreshing.

I twisted the end of the bullet as it roared
to life in my hands. Nearly breaking my self induced trance. I shut
my eyes tightly, remembering his chiseled face with the five
o’clock shadow, and those eyes. Liquid chocolate, that’s what they
reminded me of. Deep and dark, yet welcoming and comforting. I
could get lost in his eyes alone.

No longer able to keep it off my skin as I
imagined Carlton’s strong hot fingers pressing against me, I ran
the buzzing bedmate up and under my panties and across my clit. My
nipples reacted to the electric jolt that shot through my entire
body. I pressed it harder into my clit, reaching up with my free
hand to cup my breast. My mind raced as I moaned to myself,
reveling in the dream that was: Carlton.

My fingers began to tingle as the first wave
of my orgasm crashed against my vibrator. I held on, squeezing my
nipple harder now as I rode it out, hoping the feeling would never
end. I could see him towering over me, holding himself above me as
I plunged my little blue friend deep inside, finishing off my
orgasm. I drifted off to sleep with the thoughts of him holding me
in his strong arms.

“Miss
Martin, can I call you a taxi?” The doorman to our building
exclaimed as I stepped into the lobby of our building the following
morning.

“No thank you Roger, I’m going to walk this
morning. But Roger, would you let the dog walker into my apartment
at noon please? I’ve already written his name down on the log as a
daily visitor.”

The short pudgy man gleamed at me, “Will do,
Miss Liz. Have a great first day!”

I smiled at him and pushed outside into a
blustery day. Maybe I should take a cab after all? My hair was
going to be a mess by the time I got to the building that housed
Bell, Michaud and Sheffield Law Firm. I turned left and began my
trek towards the sleek skyscraper. We’d been lucky to get a lease
on an apartment close by. Palmer could take the subway for a
fifteen minute ride to school and I could easily walk the two
blocks to work. Even in their misery, our parents had left us
financially stable enough to afford our futures. My college and law
school bills had been handled by our Charleston Broad Street
attorneys who doled out our trust funds as if they were doing us a
favor. Palmer and I both resented their snide attitudes when we’d
gone to them to ask for funds to move to New York, although they
couldn’t deny us Still, trust fund lawyers rarely liked to hand out
money, even when it belonged to the clients.

Even though the two blocks to my office were
crowded with pushy New Yorkers, I couldn’t say that I didn’t like
the place. No, I was just overwhelmed by it. However, I was glad
that I’d chosen to wear my running shoes for the walk. When I
finally pushed through the twelve foot tall glass doors into the
Michaud Building I felt like I’d been through a hurricane. The wind
had whipped my hair into frenzy, and my family heritage of keeping
it neat and orderly was in serious jeopardy. Of all the genes they
had to pass along, I somehow managed to get unruly hair. I’d have
much preferred a flatter chest, or even blue eyes, instead I found
my way to a bench in the lobby and sat down to smooth my overly
curly blond locks.

I sat my bag on the bench beside me and
occupied myself with pulling the rubber hair tie that was so
unsuccessfully holding my hair into a ponytail. I swung my head to
shake the specks of rain from it and reached down to untie my
tennis shoes. After sitting them on the bench beside me, I pulled
my black heels from my bag and slid them onto my feet. I admired
the stylishness of them, and made a mental note to thank Palmer for
choosing them for me. With a small struggle I moved towards
smoothing my hair back. I reached back, searching blindly for the
hair band on the bench when I noticed it lying on the floor at my
feet. When I’d changed shoes, I must have managed to swipe it off
the bench.

I bent low to pick it up when a thick hand
appeared in my vision at the floor in front of me, grabbing the
hair band just before my fingers touched it. “Here you go,” my mind
registered the voice instantly. The smooth English accent made my
skin flush. Thick, muscular hands held my hair band in front of me.
I looked up suddenly, my face now level with his crotch where I
couldn’t help notice the bulge there, even through the Amosu slacks
that covered it. “Thank you,” I moaned as I carefully studied the
hair band in his outstretched palm. I hesitated to touch him again;
the memory of the feel of his hand yesterday warned me. With the
delicacy of a bird I pecked it from his hand.

“You’re welcome Liz, are you ready to start
your first day?”

I frowned, how did he know it was my first
day? “Yes, I am,” I flustered. “Do you work here too?”

He laughed as he towered over me, “As a
matter of fact I do!” Again his mammoth size and deep, dark
appearance sent shivers through my blood. There was a foreboding
that came with this man, it screamed to me to stay as far away from
him as possible. He no longer donned the casual attitude that he’d
worn yesterday. His suit alone cost more than my entire education.
It was black pin stripe, and beneath it a starched white button
down complimented a red power tie. Black leather Italian made shoes
that were large enough to be used as flotation devices matched the
belt that accented his waist. Clearly fashion wasn’t something he
ignored; Palmer would have an absolute fit to see his suit!

With my hair back into some sort of control
I stood and shoved my tennis shoes into my bag. Standing in front
of him I smiled politely, “Well, it’s good to see you again
Carlton.” I walked away from him towards the bank of turnstiles and
elevators, flashing my badge at the security guards as I passed
them. The elevator doors opened and I filed inside along with
twenty of my new co-workers. Carlton was the last person to climb
aboard before the doors closed. His eyes searched the car and
landed on mine with fire.

“Good morning Mr. Michaud!”

“Good morning Mr. Michaud.”

“Mornin’ Mr. Michaud.”

Oh no… no… It couldn’t be possible that I’d
acted like a teenager in heat towards the top lawyer in my new
firm? My skin crawled as he pushed his way towards me in the back
corner of the elevator. I couldn’t face him now; I studied my black
heels in a futile attempt to ignore him. I was sure that my skin
was beet red from embarrassment. “Liz, I really do hope you enjoy
your day.”

Suddenly I was angry, furious in fact that
he’d not told me who he was immediately. Certainly he’d hid his
identity; he knew all along that I was one of his employees. Why
didn’t he just tell me? Instead he’d let me behave like a flustered
teenager in the elevator yesterday and like a prude this morning.
“You didn’t mention that your last name was Michaud,” I complained
in a whisper so the other occupants of the elevator couldn’t
hear.

He chuckled below his breath and leaned too
close to my ear, “When I’m walking my dog, I try to keep things on
a more friendly level. Is that okay with you, Liz?” I now had goose
bumps over my entire body; damn he smelled good! And his breath was
so warm against my ear!

“Of course, I would’ve been a bit more
respectful had I known who you were yesterday, that’s all,” I was
languishing in my own self destruction. He was far too close to my
face still.

Carlton Michaud laughed out loud now and
stood upright, “No problem, Miss Martin. Did you have a nice walk
with…?”

“Nucy,” I finished for him, thinking what a
relief it was that he moved away from my ear. One more second and I
may have grabbed his face and licked his eyelids.

“Yes, Nucy,” his eyes glimmered with
fascination as he looked down at me. Damn he was so tall!

“We did, although I think she believes we’re
only on vacation. For a ten year old dog, she’s acting as though
she’s just a puppy here. Already she’s made friends with the hot
dog cart man and the pretzel vendor.” I had no idea why I was
rattling on about Nucy. This man unsettled me to the point that I
couldn’t be sure what was going to come out of my mouth next!