Mr Garcia, page 5
I laugh as I lose all control and straddle him.
His fingers find that spot between my legs, and he slowly slides two fingers deep inside.
“Tight and wet,” he says. “Just how I like it.”
His fingers move inside me, almost violently as I kneel above him, and I grip his broad shoulders for balance. The sound of my arousal echoes in the room, and I shudder.
“Don’t even fucking think about coming.” He bites my nipple through my bra. My head tips back, and I whimper out loud.
Holy shit. What the hell is going on here?
He’s a god.
And I’m not supposed to be doing this.
He grabs my ass cheek, and with one hand holding himself up, and the other pulling me down onto him, he slides in deep. I feel the sharp sting of his possession stretching my body completely open.
Oh… Fuck.
We stare at each other, and it feels like something shifts between us.
“Fuck…” I whimper before I bend to kiss him. “So… good.”
He smiles against my lips, and he grabs my hipbones, grinding me down onto him, circling himself deep within me.
A deep, guttural moan escapes me, and I begin to see stars.
No… hold it!
He repeats the delicious movement once more, and I almost lose control.
“I’m going to come,” I whimper. “I can’t hold it.” Nobody could be fucked like this and not come.
“That’s okay.” He looks up at me and brushes the hair back from my forehead. “You come hard for me, baby. Milk my cock.”
He slams me down hard as he takes my lips in his, and I cry into his mouth, my body convulsing. Then, the weirdest thing happens. His grip on my face softens, and our kiss turns tender. We stop moving, and we kiss as if we have all the time in the world, like it’s the only thing that matters. It’s sweet and wonderful, and I forget where I am.
He smiles against my lips and then lifts me to lay me back on the couch, where he spreads my legs open.
His eyes stay fixed on my sex as he slowly spreads my lips apart with his fingers.
I hold my breath.
What’s he doing?
Is he stopping?
Doesn’t he want to come?
He spreads my thighs and drops to his knees beside the couch, and he licks me. “I need to taste you.”
His thick tongue swipes through my flesh, and his eyes close in pleasure. “So fucking good,” he moans against my sex.
Goosebumps scatter up my spine as I watch the most sexual creature I have ever encountered lick me up.
I reach down and run my fingers through his black hair. He looks up and our eyes lock.
Holy hell.
Then he’s all in, moving almost violently against me; his lips, whiskers, and face glistening with the evidence of my orgasm.
He closes his eyes in a state of absolute bliss. His thick tongue thrashes and, oh God, my back arches off the couch.
“Ahh!” I cry.
He flips me over and drags me to the end of the couch, positioning me on my knees before he slams in hard from behind.
The air is knocked from my lungs, and I push my face into the cushions.
Ouch, fuck!
He fucks me, and it’s hard, deep, and powerful strokes. His thick cock is moving at a piston pace, and somewhere in my daze, I come to the realization that I’ve never been fucked like this before.
So thoroughly.
So completely.
He begins to moan, and I smile against the cushions. What a fucking hot sound that is. He slams into me and then holds himself deep. I feel the telling jerk of his cock as he comes hard. He lets out a low, guttural moan, and he continues to slowly slide in and out, releasing his body of the last of his orgasm.
I’m gasping for breath; my body is wet with perspiration. I glance over my shoulder to see Sebastian’s satisfied smile.
I pant and drop my head, my body still shuddering with waves of pleasure deep inside.
Just wow.
He pulls out, panting for breath as he tips his head back to look up at the ceiling. His hands rest on his hips.
“Fucking hell,” he gasps.
I’m speechless. There’s not a coherent thought in my empty head.
He was meant to be sweet and simple, not hot and devious.
That was so random.
“Shower,” he says, and he grabs my hand to pull me up. He leads me down the hall and into the bathroom. After he turns the hot water of the shower on, he removes his condom and throws it in the waste bin.
Without another word, he spins me away from him and unfastens my bra.
I glance over at our reflection in the mirror. My hair is all over the place, and he’s completely naked.
I think we’ve been in the apartment for all of fifteen minutes. So much for me not sleeping with anyone. I guess I really am an Escape Girl.
Whorebag extraordinaire.
Sebastian throws my bra to the floor, and then he moves my hair to one side of my neck and tenderly kisses me on the sensitive skin there.
“You were incredible,” he breathes against my ear.
My hand instinctively rises to his face, and we stand cheek to cheek for a moment. Our eyes lock in the mirror, and his forehead creases. I turn toward him to take his face in both hands, and I kiss him softly. I don’t want anything hard anymore.
I want sweet. I want gentle. I want tenderness.
We kiss for a few moments, and his big, strong arms fold around me. He holds me tightly, and oh… this man.
Our kiss turns desperate, and he pins me to the wall, letting our tongues explore each other’s. Taking our time. His hard erection is up against my stomach. I open my eyes to see that his are firmly shut. He’s right here with me.
He lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. Wasting no time, he slides in deep, right where he’s supposed to be. It feels so natural between us that I can’t help but smile against his lips.
We move in sync.
“Fuck,” he whispers before he pulls out in a rush and puts me down.
“What’s wrong?”
He drags his hand down his face. “I’ve got to…”
“What?” He looks around the room like a scared animal. “Sebastian?”
He tears a towel from the hanger and wraps it around his waist. “Condom,” he says before he rushes from the room.
Huh? I turn the shower off, and my eyes widen. Oh shit, we forgot a condom.
Oh…he’s getting a condom, I turn the shower back on and get in under the hot water, waiting for him to get back in. I put my head under the water and smile up at the ceiling as the steaming hot water runs over my face. I can’t believe this night.
Sebastian comes back into the bathroom, now fully dressed.
“I’ve got to go,” he says.
“What?”
His eyes hold mine, but he says nothing.
“What are you doing?” I frown. “We have all night together.”
He opens his mouth to say something and then stops himself. “I’ll see you later.” Without another word, he rushes out of the room.
I turn off the shower and run after him, grabbing a towel from the rack.
“What? Why?” I call out.
“I have to go.” He storms toward the front door.
“Where?”
“Home.”
My face falls as I connect the dots. “Are you kidding me?” I snap.
He stops.
“Are you fucking married?”
He stops and spins back toward me. “What?”
“You’re married!” I cry. “You do have a wife and family, don’t you? That’s why you come here. That’s why you have to leave?”
He screws his face up, clearly disgusted. “What?”
I get a vision of a wife at home waiting for him, and three little kids tucked up safely in their beds waiting for Daddy.
I get a lump in my throat because, hell, I do feel like a whore now. The lowest form of low.
“Are you married?” I whisper.
“No.”
“Is there someone waiting for you at home?”
“That’s none of your business.”
My eyes well with tears.
He drags his hand through his hair. “I’m single,” he finally says. “Not that it matters.”
He turns, and without another word, he leaves.
Regret swims around in my stomach.
I walk to the door and rest my forehead on the back of it.
What the hell just happened?
4
April
I turn and look around the now silent apartment, taking in all its luxurious splendor. My eyes drift to the two half-empty glasses of alcohol on the counter.
“Fuck,” I whisper. “What the hell was that?”
I drag my hand down my face and trudge back up the hall. I look back toward the front door.
Maybe he’ll come back?
I roll my eyes at myself.
Yeah, sure he will.
I get back in the shower and put my head under the steaming hot water.
My body is still thumping. I can feel a pulse in my sex. I wash myself, and it stings from the stretch of having him inside me. His body worked mine over well—too well.
How did that all go so wrong?
I finish up in the shower and dry myself. I put on the black velvet robe that’s hanging on the back of the walk-in wardrobe door, and I walk back out to the living area. A sense of regret sits in my chest.
Damn it… I’m pissed at myself.
Why would I sleep with him when I promised myself I wouldn’t? That is not who I am.
Mind you, he was the last person on Earth I thought would come to a place like this.
I pour myself another glass of champagne, and I peer inside the fridge to find a huge serving of chocolate covered strawberries sitting on a silver platter. I take them out and walk into the living room, placing them on the coffee table in front of me. I pick up the remote and turn the television on.
I drop down and curl my legs up beneath me.
Sipping on my champagne, I stare into space, his words coming back to me.
I’m single. Not that it matters.
I eat a strawberry and the wonderful flavor bursts through my mouth.
Answer the question, Cartier. Do you want my cock… or will I go and get someone else who does? Any wet pussy will do.
God.
I thought we were role playing… but were we?
I close my eyes and drain my glass, only to refill it immediately. I want to forget tonight ever happened.
Five thousand pounds never felt so cheap.
“Don’t be lazy. Your essay details are in the assignment sheet that was emailed to you last week,” the lecturer says from his place on the stage. “Remember: this is thirty percent of your total mark. Switch on, people.”
The class gives an audible groan.
The bell rings through the speaker, notifying us of the end of the class, and we begin to pack up our desks.
“If you are having problems,” the lecturer calls, “I’m holding a study group after class next Thursday night in the library to help you prepare.”
I put my laptop into my bag. I really should go to that. I have no idea how to navigate this essay. I looked at it briefly last week, and it confused the hell out of me.
Thursday, though. Why do I feel like I have something on Thursday?
I sling my backpack onto my back, and I walk out of the auditorium.
Shit... I’m working in the Escape Club next Thursday. It’s my second shift.
Ugh, I’ve felt like crap all day today.
Sleeping alone in that Escape room last night was definitely a low point of my life. When I was leaving this morning, I saw a few of the other girls leaving their apartments with their dates from last night. It rubbed salt into my wounds a little.
They stayed with their date.
I trudge down the crowed corridor now, toward my last lecture of the day.
Why the hell has this upset me? It’s not like I went there looking for love. I went there with an agenda. The money. Five thousand pounds, and that’s what I got.
I made a plan and I stuck to it.
Stop beating yourself up about this, I remind myself.
Only three more shifts to go. In one month, I’ll have twelve months rent and I can resign. This is not my jam, but I’m sticking to my game plan. I need twenty thousand pounds, and damn it, I’m getting it.
“April!” I hear someone call from behind me.
I turn to see Brandon running to catch up with me.
“Hey.” He smiles as he falls into step beside me.
“Hi.” I smile. “How are you?”
Brandon is one of my friends on campus. He’s studying engineering and is on my football team. He’s a freshman and has a girlfriend at home.
“Good. Hey, Harvey asked me to see if you’re going to that party on campus tomorrow night.”
“Oh God,” I frown. “You tell Harvey, for the fifteenth time, even if I am going, I am not into him. He’s way too young for me.”
Brandon chuckles. “I keep telling him that.” He bumps me with his shoulder. “He’s hoping you will change your mind. He wants to be your boy toy.”
I laugh out loud. “Yeah, well, that’s not happening.”
“What are you doing for dinner tonight? Do you want to grab something with me and Lara?” Lara is our other friend. She’s lovely, too.
I feel like shit because I hardly slept a wink in that Escape apartment last night. “No, I’ve got an assignment to do, but thanks, anyway. You guys have fun.”
“Do you want us to bring you something back?”
“Maybe,” I frown. “Text me from wherever you go.”
“Okay. Oh, and word on the street is that there’s an afterparty to the party in Penelope’s room tomorrow night.”
I exhale heavily. “Great.” I sigh.
“Do you want to sleep on the floor in mine or Lara’s room again?”
“No, it’s okay. I might be going away for the weekend.”
“Really? Where to?”
“A friend of mine is over here. I’m thinking of catching up with her.” That’s an appalling lie, but I’m thinking of taking a mini break out of London for the weekend. I do have a little extra cash injection now, and maybe I could find somewhere dirt cheap. Anything is better than sleeping next door to the Rave Cave when it’s in full swing.
“Okay, I’ll text you tonight with the menu of wherever we end up eating,” Brandon says before he turns off toward his next tutorial.
A weekend away. That’s not actually a bad idea. Yeah, I could go away by myself.
I smile as I walk up the corridor, hmm…. where, exactly, could I go?
Sebastian
I bring the club back and hit the ball with force. It whistles through the air.
“Nice shot,” Spencer coos.
“Your game is on point today, Garcia,” Julian says as he retrieves his golf club from his bag.
I watch the ball bounce and then land on the green. “It’s always on point. What are you talking about, Masters?”
Spencer chuckles as he brings the ball toward him on the ground with the back of his club. Golf on a Sunday is one of my favorite pastimes.
We watch Spencer hit the ball with force, and it hooks at the end and bounces over the net, out onto the road.
“Fuck it!” he cries out. “Why the hell am I playing so bad?” He pretends to snap his club over his knee. “I know. I’m overfucked and underpaid, that’s why.”
We chuckle.
Spencer being overfucked is something we never thought we’d hear. He’s a deviant from way back.
We put our clubs into the back of the golf cart and climb in. I get behind the wheel and pull out onto the gravel road to take us to the next hole.
“Hey, I got a very interesting job offer this morning,” I tell them. “
“Such as?” Julian asks.
You know how I‘ve been helping with the planning of the roads on the eastern distributor for government?”
“Yeah,” they both say.
“They’ve offered me a position on cabinet.”
“You. A politician?” Spencer gasps. “You fucking hate politicians.”
“I know.” I pull into the next hole and park the buggy. “I’m not taking it, of course.”
“What’s the position?” Masters asks.
“Minister of Planning and Development.”
Masters frowns. “Wouldn’t be a bad gig. What’s the coin?”
“Decent, although I make more now.” I take the club from my bag and line up my shot.
“Could you do both?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” I slice the ball, and it flies off into the distance. “Fuck… I’m getting good at this game.”
“Please,” Spencer scoffs. “I can beat you with my hands tied behind my back.”
“Okay, let’s see it,” Masters replies flatly. “You’re all fucking talk, Spence.”
I chuckle as Masters lines up his shot.
“I’d look into taking both jobs. It could be great for the CV. Town Planner and all that,” Masters says as he hits his shot. It bounces low, hits a tree and flies back toward us.
“You’re completely shit,” I smirk.
“Get fucked,” he snaps as he puts his club back in the bag. “Unlucky.”
“Sebastian Garcia, the politician,” Spencer teases just as he strikes the ball.
“Has a ring to it,” Masters smirks.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not taking it.”
We get back into the golf buggy. “Hey, you still drinking shit coffee from that hot chick across town?” Spencer asks.
I grip the steering wheel tightly. “No.”
Spencer's eyes fly to me. “Why not?”
I shrug. “Lost interest.”
The last thing I need is a lecture from these two. Ever since I found my wife in bed with our gardener, they’ve become a tad overprotective, and I am not in the mood to talk about the headfuck of a week I’ve had.
