“Oh, I know just the thing,” she said, dropping to her knees to unzip my pants.
“Get up!” I commanded.
With a slight scramble, she rose and stared at me for the next instruction.
Sigh.
“Go sit down. Watch some TV or Pay-Per-View on me. Just don’t touch me again.”
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked with a whimper.
“It’s nothing you did. I’m just not in the mood.”
She obediently went to sit on the chaise. Actually, she laid on it with one leg hitched up and pretended to watch television. I ignored her, took a few sips of my drink, then after twenty minutes had passed, I left. I usually stayed longer than that, but it didn’t matter. I just wanted to get home.
As soon as I got back, I got in the shower to just wash Regina’s lips and hands off me. We didn’t do anything beyond that, but after I was re-dressed, I roamed around the house…in the direction of Brandi’s suite. Her door was closed, and the light was off, meaning she was still out.
What was with me? Like, seriously. What in the actual fuck?
Phil walked through the living room, carrying a tray with a sandwich and a cup of tea. “Sir,” he greeted. “Do you need anything?”
“Is Cruise back?” I found myself asking.
“She’s off today, sir,” he informed me, unnecessarily.
“I fucking know that,” I roared.
Gotdamn.
Phil blinked at me then jerked his head toward the back room. “I saw her a little while ago. She was dressed like she was heading to the gym.”
What?
I turned and headed straight to the gym without saying another word to my assistant. As I pushed the door open, I heard repetitive hits on a punching bag, one-two combinations. A kick, then another one-two punch. I was relieved even before I saw her. She was back here, not getting her back blown out by some asshole. I wanted to be the only one doing that…but I wasn’t. I was fucked.
When I stepped into the room I saw her doing just as I’d heard, punch and kick combinations. She was sweaty, and the makeup from earlier was gone, but shit, she looked just as pretty in her tights and sports bra as she had all dressed up.
“Need a sparring partner?” I asked, watching her in the fighting, crotched position.
That caused her to look up from her trance, and she stood up straight. “No, sir. The bag is sufficient.”
Okay, I tried it the nice way.
That shit never worked.
“Cruise, get your ass over here,” I commanded.
She looked at me for a long moment, then she obeyed.
“I’m going to try to hit you, and then we’re going to spar,” I said when she stood opposite me. “Got it?” At her nod, I stuck out my hand toward her face.
She easily blocked it, and I attempted to hit her with my other hand. She blocked that, too. This happened with each of my hits and kicks. The woman was good, but at this point, she was defending.
“Attack,” I told her.
She paused for a second and then swung out a hand. I blocked it. Then she tried with another fist, which I grabbed and began to crush, until she tried to sweep my legs from under me with a swift kick. I jumped out of the way, but lost my grip on her fist, so Cruise slid behind me and jumped on my back. With both arms around my neck and her legs wrapped around my chest, I dropped to my knees and fell back, so I was on top, then pulled free, so I could get on top of her. I tried to restrain the woman, but she wasn’t having it. Somehow she managed to get on top of me, putting me at her mercy, and fuck me, I let her. I held her hips, so they were right over my hardening cock. She didn’t notice until my dick decided it was time to stretch his wings and stand at attention. Her expression as she became aware of it straining against her crotch was priceless. She quickly attempted to shift her position, but I shifted with her.
“Sir,” she whispered, but I held her hips tighter and began to thrust my pelvis against her.
“Shhh,” I kept my eyes on her, looking for some sign of arousal. Surely she felt something.
Something.
“How did he fuck you, Brandi?” I asked, because I was an asshole. “Good, I hope.”
I guess my little bodyguard had enough of my shit, because she took that mask off and retorted, “How did you get fucked?”
I laughed, flipped her ass on her back and grabbed her thigh, so I could get full access as I got off right on her clit.
I told her the truth. “There was no fucking. I couldn’t get you out of my head.
“W-what?” she stammered, probably in response to my rubbing my long cock directly on her pussy. “Ohhh.”
Yeah, I hit the spot, all right, so I concentrated on that as I palmed her hips and continued to grind against her. “If I had my choice, I’d take you just like this,” I told her in a husky whisper. “Then I’d bend you over that bench and fuck you hard while my balls smack against your clit until you squirted all over the leather. Then I’d pull your hair out of that fucking ponytail, put you on your knees and fuck your pretty face, until you had my cum all over your face. I’d spray it and you’d swallow.”
I was so fucking gone while thinking about how I’d do her that my eyes were actually blurry, I felt her grabbing and digging her nails in my back as she met each thrust over her clit.
Hell, her saying yesss, and I’m going to come, was amplified in my ears.
Fuck, I was coming too, in my damn shorts. Coming in my fucking shorts. I was beyond a grown-ass man, but I did. And sweet Jesus, it was the best release I’d ever had.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed as I watched her body still trembling from her own release. I put my lips close to her ear and whispered. “Wish I could taste that sweet pussy of yours. If it was mine, I would lick it, fuck it, and play with it all day.”
Where were my balls?
Someone took them.
Without thinking, I moved my face over hers and tasted her lips instead of her pussy. What in the world was I thinking? Having a taste was worse than my previous denial. She was exquisite.
Beyond exquisite, to be honest.
Fuck me.
Pulling back, I looked at her glazed-over eyes and said, “Fuck, Cruise. I didn’t mean…”
I got up and tried to formulate something less jumbled to say, but when she jumped up from her position, like a ninja, I closed my mouth.
“It never happened,” she said. “You got your release, so you should be good for another month.”
Then she grabbed her towel and left the gym.
What?
In?
The?
Fuck?
I’d never had a woman walk out on me before, yet here was Brandi Cruise, doing just that, leaving me alone to ponder my thoughts. The woman had balls of steel. I burst out laughing at her audacity.
At her gumption.
Really?
Yes, really, I thought as I took another shower and rubbed out another climax as I thought about her sweet lips, imagining them wrapped around my cock as she took me deep into her throat and moaned with pleasure. I was torn about whether to shoot my cum down her throat or on her pretty face. Marking her seemed essential, but she wasn’t mine.
She never could be.
Chapter Seven
Brandi Cruise
Cruise, what the fuck is wrong with you?