Hot water pelted Sam’s chest as he gripped himself, imagining the soft suck and pull of her pink lips.
He loosened his grip a little, focusing on his shaft just below the rim of the head. He speeded up his rhythm, brought himself to the brink of release then backed off, letting the tension ebb away for a split second before he started up again.
His imagination was starting to get blurry at the edges as he breathed harder. Eve opened her alarming green eyes and looked up at him. Her hands slid up his thighs and she stroked the skin just behind his ball sack. She knew exactly how to touch him. She slid off his cock a little then worked the hard ridge on the underside of his shaft, flicking her tongue back and forth like a snake. He hissed between his teeth.
Yes.
His orgasm was building low in his belly. He hadn’t jacked off in at least a week, and being in close proximity to Eve was driving him up the wall.
He shut his eyes again.
There, in the blazing sun of his fantasies, he let go.
With a grunt, he put both hands on the back of her head and fucked her mouth, thrusting his hips against her beautiful face. She moaned and lust surged through him like electricity.
She squeezed her tits for him, twirling her nipples with her fingers until they were dark pink and erect.
Sam struggled for breath. Where would he come? In her sweet pink mouth? All over her pretty face? On
her chin, where he could watch it drip down over those magnificent tits?
Eve let go of her breasts and cupped his balls in her hand. With her other hand, she stroked his ass cheeks. When she slid a tiny, slick finger down his crack, every muscle in his body went taut. When she stroked his ass with the barest pressure, threatening to rim him but never going in, his blood caught fire. He thrust hard, burying himself deep down her tight little throat.
Now.
Grabbing the showerhead with his left hand, he arched his back as molten pleasure ricocheted up and down his spine. With his right hand, he stroked himself with a merciless grip as cum pumped out of him, spraying hot and thick all over the tiles.
With a grunt, he collapsed against the wall. In his mind’s eye, Eve slid away and looked up at him with a smile as if to say, “You needed that, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
Trembling, he cleaned up and turned off the water just as it went cold.
With the edge of his lust blunted for now, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and collapsed into bed next to the softly breathing object of his obsession. Careful not to touch her, Sam turned off the lamp and closed his eyes. The sweet jasmine smell of Eve’s hair filled his nose. He was good for ten seconds before his cock got hard again.
Son of a bitch.
He punched his pillow, turned on his side, and prayed that sleep would take him fast.
****
Eve lay still, her limbs deliciously warm under the covers. But she wasn’t alone. Sound asleep, Sam had pulled her close. He leaned against her, heavy and solid.
She was on her side and his right arm was wrapped like a vise around her waist. His left arm ran along the side of her torso and his hand sat on her hip. He’d worked his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and now his fingers rested on her bare skin just below her belly button. His big leg was sandwiched between hers; the top of his heavily muscled thigh was pressed snugly against her ass. His lips barely touched her neck, his warm, soft breaths stirring her hair.
She closed her eyes. Yes.
As an experiment, she arched her back slightly, digging her bottom against him. He sighed, murmured something, and shifted his weight, nestling a very intimate part of himself against the crack of her ass.
Feeling cheeky, she wiggled a little more and his erection leaped against her. Eve’s breath hitched in her throat. She flexed her fingers as she visualized herself sliding her hand under the covers and giving him a good morning squeeze. She imagined peeling back the sheets and kissing his face and neck and glorious chest until he woke up. She imagined spending the whole morning in bed with this delectable man, acting out all of her fantasies at last.
It’s happening all over again. How pathetic.
Eve’s eyes fluttered open. The voice in her head came out of nowhere.
Fucking the boss. Don’t you ever learn?
Eve’s heart squeezed in her chest. The playfulness she’d been feeling only moments before disappeared at once. Silently, she untangled herself from Sam and slid like a ghost out of his bed.
She grabbed her things, went downstairs, and rode her bike back to Montecito.
****
The man sitting at the end of the bar was big. Six- foot-three or -four, easily three hundred and fifty pounds. He was wearing an enormous but well-cut suit and a loosened tie. He had naturally droopy eyes, and the dark circles under them contributed to the general feeling of malaise radiating from him, even from afar. A half-empty glass of Coke sat on the bar.
Sam took a seat. “Victor. How are you doing?”
He put the manila envelope on the empty bar stool between them. Just as quickly, Victor took it and tucked it into his suit jacket.
“It’s all there.”
Victor nodded once. “Good. Are you on track for next month?”
Sam’s stomach turned a little bit, but he said, “Yes.
Everything’s on schedule.”
“Good,” he said again. With a loud slurp, he finished off the Coke and stood up. “Get this for me, will you?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
When Victor was gone, Sam counted out enough pocket change for the soda. Charlie came over and stared at him with his arms folded. Sam finished and Charlie swept the change into his palm with a grimace.
“You’d tell me,” said Charlie, “if you were in any kind of trouble at all, right?”
Sam looked at the old man’s face. He couldn’t bear to tell his friend and mentor the truth. “What? What makes you think I’m in trouble? Everything’s fine.”
“All the same. Just say the word, Sam.” Charlie put
the change into his apron pocket. “I’m here for you.”
****
Tiffani showed Eve a couple more spins on the pole. With some practice, Eve could move from one to another. Soon, Tiffani was putting together routines for her.
“Think I could get a job at the Royal Flush?” Eve joked, toweling off after dancing to Nelly’s “Hot in Herre.”
“In a heartbeat,” said Tiffani. She paused and looked at Eve’s face. “You’ve been kind of distracted today. Is everything all right?”
Tiffani fixed Eve a tall glass of sweet tea and they sat in the kitchen together as Eve told the story of Sam’s troubles.
She left out a lot of things, namely the strange way Sam made her feel when he threatened to use his “captain’s voice” on her. What was that all about? The thought of it still made her spine tingle—Sam’s deep voice, telling her what to do in the bedroom. The idea drove her to distraction. She also left out lying in bed awake listening to him take a shower, fantasizing about hot water running in rivulets down the hard muscles in his chest and abs. She didn’t talk about how she lay in bed next to him, awake for hours, so horny she could barely breathe. And she definitely didn’t talk about sneaking out of his apartment, ashamed of herself.
Tiffani poured herself another glass of tea. “You know, these gangsters come into the club every now and then. They have money to burn. The girls love them, but they’re scary as hell.”
“I’m worried about Sam. I don’t want him to lose his boat. I definitely don’t want him to get hurt.”
“That does sound like a predicament,” said Tiffani. “But how about you, sugar?”
“What do you mean?”
“You sometimes come home late at night. Do you have mace or pepper spray or a Taser or something?”
Eve shook her head. “No. I can pedal pretty fast.
I’ll be fine.”
“The hell you will,” said Tiffani. She grabbed her purse and pulled out a canister of mace in a pink leather holder emblazoned with hearts and rhinestones. “Here. Keep this with you.”
“What part of Nashville did you say you grew up in?” Eve raised an eyebrow as she took the gift.
“The part where ladies carry mace in their purses.”