Once Upon A Grump, page 13
“If,” Lola said, lowering her gaze to my chest and fiddling with my tie absently. “If we didn’t think of it like a relationship, maybe we could both get what we need. It could just be… you know.”
“Casual sex?” I asked. My cock was two steps ahead and already hard enough to double as a battering ram if needed. I knew I was letting myself be drawn down a dangerous path, but I was too hungry for her to care anymore. I’d take any excuse to get my hands on Lola, no matter how flimsy.
“Yeah. At work, we could act like it never happened. No obligations. No commitments. Because let me be clear, I don’t like you, Mr. Stone.”
“Christian,” I breathed.
Her eyes lifted to mine. “Christian,” she repeated. The simple word sounded so fucking sexy coming out of her mouth. I put my hand on her side, moving it up under her shirt to feel her bare, warm skin–soft against my calloused hand.
“Not here,” she said, pushing my arm away. “Someone could see.”
“Where?” I hissed.
“My apartment is closest. I just need to get Termite from the Ashford kids. And I’ll have to feed her when we get there before…” she trailed off and swallowed hard. “Okay?”
I nodded. “I’ll head there while you get the dog. We should go separately so we don’t draw attention.”
“Right.”
Lola started to walk away, but I couldn’t fucking help myself. I reached out, took her wrist, and spun her to face me. I took a fistful of her silky hair and tilted her head back, claiming her mouth like I’d been wishing I could for the longest thirty days of my life. She tasted like I’d imagined. Better, even.
She gasped into my mouth, going soft in my arms as our tongues flicked together.
When the kiss ended, her lips were still parted and her eyes looked heavy. She smiled up at me, fiddling with my tie again. “Be careful, Mr. Stone. Kiss me like that too much and I might get addicted.”
Something like a growl slipped out of me. I wanted my hands on every inch of her. Even knowing I had to wait a few minutes was torture. I cupped her tight ass, yanking her in so her hips thumped against me. “I may already be addicted. To casually kissing you,” I added with a smirk.
Lola smiled back. “Does this mean you’re going to actually be nice when we’re together for casual hookups? Because I would’ve signed up for this way earlier if I knew that was part of the package.”
“The way I treat you…” I started, searching for the right words.
But Lola shook her head, pressing a finger to my lips. “No. I don’t want this to bleed over to work. You’re who you are and I’m who I am. Whatever we’re about to do doesn’t change that, right?”
I gave her a tight smile and a nod. “Yeah, sure.” Except it wasn’t true. I was only such an ass to Lola because I’d been trying my hardest to keep from falling for her. Still, we could call this casual sex. I may not get every part of her like I truly wanted, but I might literally burst if I didn’t get my hands on her soon. At least I’d have that.
“You first,” she said, giving me a flirty slap on the ass and pointing for the door.
25
LOLA
I walked Termite back towards my place, clutching my arms against myself to brace against the increasingly cold night. I could hardly believe I’d just had that conversation. I’d never been a casual sex kind of girl. Now, there was nothing wrong with people who enjoyed a little no-strings sexual activity. It was just that until I left my old life behind, I believed I was going to be one of those lucky people who found Mr. Right on my first real try. We’d get to tell everyone how we were high school sweethearts–that we just knew from the first moment.
I guess a dumb part of me thought that would make it all feel more significant and meaningful, almost like fate had brought us together. But that was also why I stupidly stuck around way longer than I should’ve with him.
And now here I was about to presumably have casual sex with a man I’d been ready to punch in the face just a few hours ago. Correction: a man I’d still like to punch in the face. Unfortunately, it was just an unfairly pretty face attached to a ridiculously sexy body.
But this kind of situation was exactly why casual sex was created, right? A group of cavewomen got together, realized that all men were not boyfriend material, and decreed that from that moment forward, “hit it and forget it” could be invoked in special circumstances.
Honestly, it might even be some sort of cardinal sin to let a body like his go unused, right? I was… righting some kind of universal wrong by agreeing to sleep with him.
Besides, it was like we said. Nothing that was about to happen would impact our dynamic at work. Mr. Stone could still be a raging asshole to me to his heart’s content–assuming he had a heart.
When I saw my apartment building and a fancy sports car parked outside, I felt a fresh wave of butterflies scurry around inside me. I took a deep breath in and let it out. “Termite,” I said as we climbed the stairs towards my apartment. “I don’t want you to think less of me because of what you’re about to see. In fact, maybe you should just borrow my sleeping mask and take a nap after your dinner.”
Termite tapped on, completely oblivious that her nightly routine was about to go up in flames.
Mr. Stone waited outside my apartment door. He was leaning against the wall and looking down at his phone like a perfect picture of disinterest.
No butterflies for him, I guessed.
“Hey there, casual sex bud,” I said, firing off finger guns towards him for God only knew what reason.
Mr. Stone stared at me like I deserved to be stared at, then shook his head. “Please don’t call me that.”
“Sorry. I’m just feeling super weird about this. Not that I don’t want to do it–you.” I took another deep breath and blew it out. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t do this kind of thing. I haven’t, I mean. I don’t know the protocols. Do I take your jacket inside? Do I offer you coffee first? Should we shower and get cleaned up, or just jump right in? Like… am I allowed to brush my teeth?”
Mr. Stone smiled and came toward me. Termite growled, backing up. “We go in there and let our bodies do what they’ve been begging us to do. Simple as that.” His eyes grew heavy as he ran them from my mouth to my chest and then back to my eyes. “You can let me lead.”
I nodded quickly. “Okay. But I have to feed Termite first.”
He gestured to the door. I fumbled with my keys, suddenly forgetting which way was up and which was down when it came to keys. Once I finally got the lock to turn, I motioned for him to go in first. Grinning, he obliged and flicked on the light when he got inside.
“They did a good job,” he said. “Are you happy with the remodel?”
I tossed my keys on the counter and unhooked Termite from her leash. “The one you ordered for me while I was too delirious to say ‘no,’ you mean?”
“Maybe we should skip the small talk,” he said.
“Actually, I feel way less nervous when I’m pissed at you. Can you just… be yourself a little more? It’s helping calm me down.”
Mr. Stone looked amused. “Fine. You’ve been coming to work late for weeks now, and it has to stop. I also don’t want to see you around that asshole Chase anymore. And when we’re not at the office, call me Christian.”
I nodded as I dumped some extra food in Termite’s bowl, hoping the bribe would help her forgive me for what I was about to do in the bed we shared. “That’s good. Yeah. And so you know, Chase isn’t an asshole. He’s actually really nice and you’d probably like him if you got to know him. Also, for the record, I don’t plan on dating him, even though it’s not your business to know. But maybe knowing will stop you from turning into such a jealous asshole every time he breathes in my direction.”
Christian watched me with folded arms as he leaned, still looming by the doorway. “You make me jealous, Lola.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because when I think of someone else’s hands on you I want to punch through a fucking wall.”
I bit my lip. “And?”
“And being jealous over one of my employees also pisses me off. So I’m going to fuck you until you’re nothing but a puddle of exhausted satisfaction in my arms. And when I’m done, I’ll be able to tell myself that none of the assholes at the office can give you what I gave you. Then I’ll know no matter who you fuck after me, they will never be able to live up to what we shared.”
I raised an eyebrow as my core clenched at his words. Damn. Suddenly, the steely glares and random calls to his office made sense in an entirely new context. He’d wanted me like that all this time? “At the risk of ruining the moment, I have to say that doesn’t sound super casual.”
Just a few hours ago, I’d been ready to punch Mr. Stone in the face if he had the nerve to call me up to his office again. But somehow seeing him outside work had set me off.
“Fuck casual,” he growled, walking towards me so I had to back up.
“Fuck casual? That was the plan, right?”
“I can’t decide if I want to stop that smart mouth by putting my lips on it or filling it with my cock.”
Something primal inside me stirred at the way he was talking to me. I bumped into the couch, falling back and landing on my ass. Mr. Stone didn’t stop until he was right in front of me, towering like some kind of horny God. “Who says we have to pick just one?” I breathed, voice quivering. I was so not good at all this dirty talk.
He moved beside me on the couch, putting a hand on my thigh and running it up hard, drawing a tingling sensation in its wake like warm little fireworks beneath my skin.
I shivered, melting into his touch when he put his big hand on my cheek, cupping it and drawing me closer. “Last chance to run, Butterfly.”
Oh, was he still rolling with the social butterfly nickname? “Why? Do you have handcuffs hidden in your pants or something?”
He gripped me tight, kissing me like nobody had ever kissed me. It was possessive and tender and intense–God, was it intense. I fell back, sinking into the cushions while he leaned over me, draping his long leg over mine and pressing a palm to my breast.
I gasped into his mouth, arching my back up towards him and feeling my hips rock on their own against his thigh. I squeezed him between my legs, rubbing myself through my jeans against his hard muscle and letting my hands explore his broad back.
“Are you wet for me, Butterfly?” he asked.
“I know one way you could find out,” I said between kisses.
Suddenly, Christian sat up and yanked me by the legs, stretching me out lengthwise on the couch and positioning himself between my legs. He took the zipper of my jeans between his fingers and popped the button open, then dragged the fly down slowly.
The look on his face was beautiful–like he was in absolute hungry bliss as he stared down at the hint of my panties he could see.
I rolled my head to the side and nearly shrieked in surprise when I saw Termite sitting inches from my face beside the couch. Her big eyes were wide and confused.
I lifted a hand to cover her face.
Christian noticed I was distracted, which apparently wasn’t acceptable. He peeled off one of his socks and tossed it on the other side of the couch. Termite scrambled after it, taking it in her mouth and rolling around on her back with her silly little limbs flailing as she chewed, eyes closed.
“How’d you know she likes socks?” I asked.
“She never stopped trying to steal mine when I was looking after you.”
“Oh,” I said. It made sense, of course. But thinking about that delirious time was dangerous. It reminded me that Christian Stone wasn’t completely wrong for me. Maybe he was callous and a hardass at work, but he’d shown there was another side to him–a side just about any girl would love to call her own.
I physically shook my head. Nope. That line of thought was a big, big nope. Casual sex, that’s all this was. I tried relaying that message to my thumping heart and throbbing vagina, but they didn’t seem to care. I guessed it was all on me to keep this from getting out of control. Go figure I couldn’t even trust my own damn vagina around the man.
“Now…” he said, focusing his attention back on my jeans. He took the waistband and tugged them free with a few strong pulls, lifting my ass in the air as he worked on them. The action pulled my panties down slightly, but he seemed to have a way he wanted this to go, because once my jeans were on the floor, he carefully rolled my panties back up to their proper position.
He lowered his head at my belly button and kissed his way down, running his mouth over the thin pink fabric of my underwear and finding the sensitive flesh of my mound. He lingered there, and every moment so close to my clit made my body thrum with impatience. I arched myself up toward him, hands running across his hair and down the nape of his neck.
God. He wasn’t even there, and I was already losing my freaking mind.
“I want to taste you so fucking bad,” he growled. His stubble tickled my inner thighs.
“Help yourself,” I whispered.
He looked up, quirking an eyebrow.
“I suck at dirty talk, okay? Just… do your thing. Please,” I added.
He chuckled, then buried his face between my legs. He kissed me through my panties, running his tongue against me until I was just about ready to rip my own panties off. But he had his arms pinning mine. He was so strong I might as well have been encased in concrete.
He had complete control. All I could do was writhe and gasp as he teased me with his tongue.
It felt like ages of agonizing bliss before he finally took a hand away from my wrist and yanked my panties down. I heard the fabric rip as he jerked them down to my ankles and then threw them to the corner. I tried not to laugh out loud when I saw Termite charge from under the couch and pick them up triumphantly. She trotted off out of sight with them in her mouth.
My focus was dragged back to Christian when his tongue slid up my folds.
“Oh, God,” I gasped.
He kept working magic with his tongue as he pushed my thighs open wider and reached up to stroke my hardened nipple with his thumb.
I ground my body into him, gasping for breath as I came, shaking all over. I had to reach down and tug him away from my sex when it grew too sensitive to his touch. He smiled triumphantly, then stood beside the couch and pulled off his clothes. I felt like I was watching an artist reveal their masterpiece at a gallery. He peeled off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and arms.
He yanked down his pants, taking no time to drag things out before his cock burst free. I stared at it, fear mingling with excitement. He was big. He fished a condom from his discarded pants and put it on, meeting my eyes with heat and anticipation.
Christian was back above me in an instant and that huge member of his was warm and hard against my thigh. He positioned himself and used my slick arousal to slide himself in me.
I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around his broad back and letting the moment absorb me. I tried to think only about the physicality of it–the casual enjoyment of his warm friction. But my stupid brain started doing things it wasn’t supposed to. I imagined what it would be like to belong to him like this any time he wanted. I pictured being his fuck toy and how much fun it’d be to watch him open up to me more and more–to be less Mr. Stone and more Christian, but only for me.
I shoved those thoughts away as he increased his pace.
I was moaning and clinging to him for dear life, my heels digging into his ass and my arms around his neck. He was breathing hard too, grunting with each thrust as he pounded himself into me more deeply than I thought possible.
It was all too much and another orgasm ripped through me. I felt my walls clenching around him. He groaned through gritted teeth and pounded into me even faster until he tensed and I could feel his cock twitch with release.
Our eyes met after, and for several long, terribly perfect seconds, everything felt right. His hair was dangling down in messy waves and I could’ve believed he loved me. It was all there in that gaze–the intensity and the longing. Then Christian suddenly broke away and got off me, heading for the bathroom to clean up.
I swallowed hard, tried to mentally toss all those feelings I shouldn’t be having in some kind of trash can, and mostly failed.
A minute later, Christian was getting his clothes back on by the couch. I wrapped a blanket around myself and got up, searching for the right words. “So… What happens next? Do we create some kind of code word if we’re looking for another round of casual sex?”
He looked down at me, eyes colder than they’d been just minutes ago. “I’ll let you know if I need to fuck you again. You can do the same. Otherwise, we need to make sure this doesn’t interfere with work. Is that clear?”
“So should I just email you or something? Because I think you probably don’t want that kind of thing on your company computer, right?”
“Are you asking for my phone number, Miss Thorn?”
I folded my arms. “Yes, unless you are going to let me create a super fun secret casual sex code. Like I could email you and say, ‘the Hoover dam is wet and ready.’ Or maybe, ‘Work has been bananas today! Emphasis on bananas.’”
Christian stared. “Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in.”
No cool passcodes, apparently. I got my phone from the end table, unlocked it, and handed it to him. He tapped into my contacts and typed quickly, then handed me the phone. I texted my phone so I’ll have yours, too.”
“We could still text the code phrases,” I suggested.
“That won’t be necessary. Just text ‘now’ and I’ll find you as soon as I can.”
I raised an eyebrow. “So if I get a text from you that says ‘now’ I’m just supposed to drop what I’m doing and come find you for sex?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Oh, no. Of course not. I do this kind of thing all the time.”
He grinned, finally looking at me with some heat again. He came closer wordlessly, knelt, and kissed me softly on the lips, meeting my eyes as he pulled away.
