The Other F-Word (25 page)

“Why?”

“Because I plan to fuck you very hard.”

I gulped.

His lips curled into a sinister smile. He brushed my panties to the side before plunging his fingers into me. “You’re so ready for me, baby.”

“Yes,” I panted.

He took out his fingers and I watched, getting wetter by the second, as he brought them to his lips. He unzipped his pants and pulled me to the edge of the table, thrusting his rock-hard erection into me. One of his arms draped around my back while the other covered my mouth, because asking me to be quiet while he was pounding into me was futile.

I feared falling so I clutched onto his suspenders. It kept me balanced but had another awesome side effect I wasn’t expecting—it provided leverage, deepening his penetration. My silk skirt slid back and forth on the mahogany table. I crashed into each of his thrusts with a rhythmic collision. I felt the solid straps of his suspenders cut into my fingers, and I knew it was doing the same thing to his back. He moved his hands so he was cupping my ass, pushing himself into me. The momentum was fast, furious, fierce. He kissed me then, swallowing all my screams and moans. Taking and giving back in spades.

“You grip my dick like a fucking vice,” he said in a low, strained voice.

I said one word back to him. “Extrapolate.”

He widened his eyes, licking his lips, but he didn’t say anything else to me—he showed me.

We covered each other’s mouths with our lips, feeling our mutual epiphanies.

“You are a dangerous woman,” he whispered against my parted lips.

I was dangerous? He was the devil himself, handing me the sweetest forbidden fruit. Or worse, he was the angel giving me salvation and freedom. He was both.

Chapter Twenty-Two

That night, I sat behind him on his huge king-sized bed, rubbing his back with the Arnica cream I’d brought with me—I suspected he might be in pain. I flinched at the two long red welts on each side of his back, where the suspenders had dug into his skin. “I feel bad about these.”

He laughed. “They were worth it.”

“Does it hurt, baby?”

“It would have hurt more if you’d withheld yourself from me. Are you calling me baby?”

“I am.”

“I like it. So you want to bang again?”

I giggled, burying my face in the crook of his neck. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Is that a rhetorical question? You’ve had your tiny fingers kneading my shoulders and back for the last hour. If that’s not some wicked foreplay, then you’re just being a mean tease.”

“I’m trying to make you feel better.”

“Feel this,” he said, taking my hand and bringing it to his groin.

He was fully hard for me, and my panties soaked instantly.

“I was thinking we’d play a little game tonight, if you’re up for it.”

“Can you not see I’m up for you, anytime, anyplace?” He turned his head, crushing his lips to mine.

I pulled away. “I have plans for us.”

“So do I. They involve you being in a horizontal position.” He tilted his head, giving me an amused smile. “Or maybe vertical, which would you prefer?”

“Stop it. I have to go change,” I said, getting up from the bed. “I bought an outfit the other day and we have yet to use it. Remember?”

“Baby, you turn me on in nothing. You don’t need to put on something sexy for me. You are sexy.”

“It’s not lingerie. It’s part of the game.” I grabbed my duffle bag then headed into the bathroom.

“What kind of game? Let’s see how hard Damien’s dick can get while Jessie fucks around in the bathroom?”

I wanted him just as badly, but I’d been fantasising about this for so long. I’d seen him dance, I’d seen him in a business suit, I’d witnessed him in old jeans and a T-shirt, I’d seen him hot and sweaty and I loved all of those images of Damien. Tonight, I desired beautiful bandana boy.

“Role play,” I called out while I put on my outfit. “I’m getting ready for you.”

His sigh was so loud I heard it through the door. “You know, I just have to rip it all of you. That’s more work for me and, baby, I’ve already had a long day.”

“Do you want to talk about your day?”

“No, I want you…like now.”

“And you’ll have me, but I need to get ready.”

“Fine, we’ll role play. Who are you going to be for me?”

“A sexy librarian.”

He chuckled. “That’s a stretch. You’ve got some imagination there.”

I opened the door, leaning against the jamb in a grey pinstripe skirt that barely covered my thighs and had a dangerous slit down the side. A black lace bustier and matching tight blazer completed the outfit, while pencils held my hair up in a messy bun. Black-rimmed spectacles and an extra pencil held between my teeth were the perfect accessories for this outfit. It was nothing I’d ever wear in public, but I loved wearing it for him.

He sat on the bed, stripped down to his boxer briefs, and gulped. Mission accomplished.

“Come here,” he said, beckoning me with his hand.

I sauntered over slowly, carrying my duffle bag with me. Slow because it was sexier. Slow because my heels were so high, I was afraid I’d trip.

I threw the bag next to him, and brought my knees on either side, straddling him.

He took the pencil out of my mouth and flung it across the room. “If all librarians looked like you, there would be no shortage of funding,” he said. Then he started kissing my neck and his wet lips against my skin almost made me forget this was a two-player game.

“Stop, we have to get you ready.”

“I am ready. I’ll be playing the horny guy who’s going to fuck the hell out of you.”

I pushed him away, stifling my giggles. “Seriously, this is important to me. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.”

“Fine, who the hell am I playing in this little fantasy of yours?”

“You are the bad boy.”

“I like where this is going. What kind of bad boy am I? Do I cheat on my taxes once in a while or am I a mafia kingpin?”

I unzipped my bag. I took out the scrap of red cloth and twirled it in my hand to get it in the right formation before I tied it around his head. “You’re right there on the cusp. It could go either way, until you meet me and I rehabilitate you.” I bent down close to his ear. “You’re in a gang.”

His laughter echoed through the room. “You’re kidding, right?”

I pouted, trying not to laugh myself. Yes, it was absurd, but weren’t all good fantasies somewhat ridiculous? “Just go with me, Damien.”

He cleared his throat, trying his best to make a straight face, although the corners of his mouth twitched. “How does this”—he did air quotes—“‘on-the-cusp, bad boy gang member’ meet this hot, sexy librarian?”

“You break into the library at night.”

He laughed again. “Why the hell would my character do that? What’s my motivation?”

“I have that all figured out too.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“You like to read, but you don’t want the other gang members making fun of you, so you break into the library. That way, you can read at night without them finding out.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Why don’t I just buy an e-reader and hide it?”

“Because you can’t afford one. What part of this is hard for you to understand?”

He tucked a strand of my loose hair behind my ear. I took out the black eyeliner pen from the side of the bag to finish him off. “I’m a bad boy, Jessie. I could just steal one.”

“But you’re also on the cusp, so you don’t want to.”

“I just break into the library instead? Because that makes complete sense,” he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“What the hell are you doing to my face?”

“I’m giving you some authenticity.”

“Are you putting make-up on me, because I need to draw the line on this fantasy then.”

“I’m making teardrop tattoos. Three of them.”

He took my arms, and moved me away from him so we were staring at each other. His eyes were almost completely gold, filled with humour. “You know what that means right?”

“It means you’re sad because you’re trapped in this gang and can’t get out.”

He shook his head, chuckling loudly. “No, it means that I’ve killed someone. In fact, I would have killed three people since you’re giving me three. I’d say this doesn’t align with the fact that my character is on-the-cusp, as you like to call it.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s common knowledge. It can mean other things too, although I believe that’s the most common symbolic meaning for the teardrop tattoo.”

“We can still work with this.”

“How can we still work with this?” He held his hand against his heart and sighed deeply. “I’m too far gone. There’s no help for me, baby.”

I laughed at his overacting. “They were all accidents. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. You didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t you think the police would be on to me if I was accidently killing people not once, but three times? Not to mention that I commemorate each of these gruesome acts with a tattoo? Also, there’s the fact that I break into the library every night…that is, when I’m not accidently killing people.”

“Yeah, well when you put it like that, it sounds really stupid.”

“Because it is.” He began taking the pencils out of my hair. “Tell me how this librarian saves him. How does this silly fantasy conclude?”

“How does anyone get saved? She shows him that life can be good if he lets it.”

He lay back on the bed with me on top of him. “Now that’s something very real.” He kissed me then. His tongue pushed against my lips until I opened. His hands roamed my backside, grinding me into him. “I’m sorry, I can’t get into this. I just want you. I want us. I don’t need anything else.”

“I agree, it was a dumb idea,” I said, kissing his neck.

He pushed me up so I was looking at him. “It wasn’t that dumb. I love this outfit. You can wear it for me anytime.”

He unbuttoned my blazer and threw it across the room. I lifted off my lace bustier. His hands roamed the outline of the black lace bra underneath before gripping my hips. His fingers circled the waistband of the skirt several times in rapid succession.

“What are you doing?”

“How the fuck do I take this off?” he asked with complete frustration.

I lifted off him, on my knees. I took his hand and guided it to the zipper at my side. The sound of it coming down was audible. He growled in response. The skirt unzipped all the way down so it just fell away.

“That’s convenient. All your clothes should be like that.”

“You think I should start wearing skirts like this?”

His eyes widened. “I change my mind. Don’t ever wear anything like this in public.”

“Extrapolate.”

A playful smile emerged on his lips. “I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you. I think other men would have the same issue, so yeah, don’t wear it, except for me. I don’t want them fantasising about what’s mine and mine alone. Do we agree?”

“Duly noted,” I said, moving down his body, marking my descent with kisses on his chest and abs.

I rolled back his boxers, amazed at how his cock sprang at me. I took it in my mouth, sliding my tongue down his shaft. His breathing quickened and he pulled my hair away from my face.

“Oh, God, Jessie.” He thrust into me suddenly, gagging me slightly.

I stopped moving.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. Please, baby, don’t stop.”

I took my mouth off him. He looked so disappointed, it was almost funny.

“Do it again.”

His eyes widened. “Don’t joke.”

“I’m not. Do it again.”

And he did—he thrust his hips up as I slipped my mouth back and forth. His balls tightened in my hand. His breath was short and quick. He was going to come hard and fast. But then he pulled me up and slammed me on my back.

“Why did you stop?”

“I need to be inside you in another way.”

“It’s—”

He covered my mouth with his hand. “Not tonight. I just need you. All of you.”

My panties were ripped away in an instant. He entered me while bringing my ankle over his shoulder. He propelled inside me and I went to that higher place, being carried away by the power of him.

* * * *

The alarm went off at some ungodly hour. Damien shifted beside me.

“It’s still dark,” I mumbled, missing his warmth beside me.

The bed dipped around me as he straddled me on his knees, over my side. He kissed my cheek and threaded his fingers through my hair. Dear God, I wanted him again.

“I have a conference call.”

“This early and on a Saturday?”

“It’s overseas. This bad boy has to work between library break-ins. Stay asleep. I’ll pick up the paper on my morning run so you can do the crossword puzzle.”

“You’re sweet,” I moaned, feeling his lips on my temple.

“You’re sweet-tasting,” he said, continuing to kiss me.

His lips slid down my cheek. I turned towards him, blindly reaching for his head and pulled him closer. Then he stopped suddenly, taking a deep intake of breath.

“You’re going to make me late and Mr Zhang wouldn’t like that.”

I stroked his erection. “Is Mr Zhang going to give you a woody like this?”

“I hope the hell he isn’t or we’ve got other problems.”

He detangled himself, sliding off the bed. I craved his touch and groaned out in complaint. He rearranged the covers over me before leaving. Then he was gone, and even though it was silly, I actually missed him so much that I moved myself to his pillow, inhaling his scent and warmth. When I awoke, the room was flooded with the light of a new day, and Damien was beside the bed calling my name.

“Jessie, I need you to get up now.”

“Come back to bed, Damien.” I patted the empty space beside me.

“I had something else in mind.”

I rubbed my eyes, focusing on his smiling face. He looked so damn delicious. Fresh from a shower, wearing the jeans with the hole at the knee and a dark blue button-down shirt. He looked good in blue. Hell, he made blue look better.

“What do you have in mind?”

“We’re at the stage now that I think it’s time I showed you my special room.”

“You have a special room?”