Текст книги "Raw"

Автор книги: Belle Aurora

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Closing my eyes, I work him in a steady motion. I feel his fingertips slip into the collar that is his belt, and I know what’s coming. And because I know, I’m prepared for it.

Pulling me by my choker, he pants, “I’m ready. Take it.”

Sucking in air through my nose, I’m pulled forward further into his unbelievably hard cock. Relaxing, my throat opens. His hips jerk with the first contraction of his orgasm, and suddenly, I’m deep throating.

What’s strange? I don’t feel the discomfort I felt before.

Twitch groans long and low. I feel him jerk fitfully, and the warmth of his release slides down my receptive throat.

And it makes me so wet, makes me so horny, that I know a single touch would set me off.

Stilling, he begins to pull out. My throats reflexes kick in and I gag a little as his piercing knocks the top of my mouth. He finally frees himself. I feel wet warmth slide out of the side of my mouth. His nostrils flare and his eyes flash. Using his thumb, he wipes off the excess stickiness and offers it to me.

Mouth puffy from friction, I slowly extend my tongue and curl it around his thumb. I watch in delight as his almost-flaccid dick jumps. I feel powerful right now. Closing my lips around his thumb, I suck gently and release it with a pop.

Twitch teeters where he stands, and I bite my lip to stop my victorious smirk.

Twitch is not a person to whom you say I told you so, so I make sure I do not do that.

As gently as I can, I place him back into his pants and do him up. However, I leave his belt around my neck. I can’t be sure I’m doing the right thing here. The last thing I want to give him is an excuse to punish me.

I like when he’s happy with me. Although, having him be upset with me brings me quite the thrill.

Who knew?

Eyes closed, he visibly shudders before his eyelashes flutter and he looks down at me, his stare full of reverence. His lip curls up, “Damn. You sucked the sense out of me.” His hand comes down onto my head and strokes my hair. He mutters, “You did good, Angel.”

A small smile graces my lips. The way he just called me angel is as if he actually believes me to be one. Leaning into his touch, the moment is over too soon and his fingers gently undo the belt from around my neck.

A thought crosses me.

I don’t want the belt to go.

My mind ponders this.

Whoa. You are a freak.

Helping me to stand, he possessively wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. Leaning into his chest, I breathe him in and take in his warmth. He guides us out of his room and down the hall. Down the opposite end from where we originally came.

That’s when we both hear it.

A lady shrieks, “Help! No! No! Stop!” Sobs. “Please don’t. I don’t want you to! Please!”

My blood runs cold.

My body tenses and my eyes round. I look up at Twitch who watches me carefully, regret in his eyes. What shocks me is his lack of attempt to investigate or help. When the woman screeches at the top of her lungs, Twitch sighs, as if this woman isn’t being attacked, but more of a pain in his ass.

Blood roars in my ears. I lose it.

Face bunched in disgust, I snatch my arm away from him, and gritting my teeth, I push at his shoulders before taking off down the hall, looking for the source of the cries for help.

“Lexi! Do not go in there! Wait, dammit!”

But I don’t. I run. Frantically looking for the woman who obviously needs help.

Her moans, groans, and sobs appear closer and closer until finally, I stand just outside the door, afraid to peer in. Afraid of what I’ll find.

My heart beats out of my chest.

Eyes wide, my shaking hand reaches for the doorknob. Turning it slowly, the latch clicks over and the door opens an inch, when I’m pulled back into a hard body. A hand tightens over my mouth and I struggle. Breathing heavily through my nose, I fight only a moment before Twitch says directly into my ear, “Stop. Watch. It’s okay, Lex.”

Still struggling, his hand tightens over my mouth. Tears form in my eyes and my body shakes. Pulling the side of my face into his cheek, he sways with me, gently rocking me from side to side. “Ssssh. Just watch.”

Closing my eyes a long moment, I realize I’m not getting out of this until I do as he says. So sniffling, I open my eyes and take in the sight through the crack in the door.

My heart skips a beat. Anger surges through my veins like liquid lava singeing my insides. I’m appalled. And heartbroken.

I need to call the police.

Lexi’s rigid body shakes with soundless cries as we watch through the crack in the door. Wrapping my arm around her, I rock her in what I hope is an attempt at soothing her.

I’m not very good at things like that.

It’s not a pretty sight. And part of me hopes to God that she’ll see this through with me.

Regardless of what she thinks, she is strong.

She is perfect.

I knew she would be.

It’s a lot to take in. But she will find a way to cope. I know it.

And I’ll be there, guiding her all the while.

Closing my eyes, I try to block out the image now burned into my brain. Unable to hold it back, I cry in complete silence, my body shaking against the tall man who I suddenly hate.

I feel ill. And helpless. And morose.

But above any of those feelings, I hate Twitch.

Covering my mouth with one hand, he reaches across my chest to hold my shoulder while he gently rocks me, cooing. “Ssssh, Angel. I know it’s hard. I just need you to watch a little longer.”

I cry harder.

Who is this beast?

I know Twitch has issues. Deep seeded issues. But I never imagined how far those roots stem.

I should’ve listened to Nikki when she told me not to make this man a project.

His lips touch the shell of my ear and he whispers, “You gotta trust me, Lex.” His voice pleads. “Open your eyes.”

I want to screech ‘Fuck you!’…but something in his voice tells me to do as he says. So I do.

And my throat thickens. So thick that I can’t swallow.

The scene before me is horrific.

Ling lies on her stomach in the middle of the king-sized bed held in the pristine room. Her little black dress is ripped and left in tatters on her mostly-naked body. One long silken glove has come off, the other hanging off her straining fingers. Her pretty face is distorted by the distress and anguish she is experiencing at this moment.

My heart breaks for her.

My eyes refuse to blink, and tears trail down my cheeks.

I want to call out. I want her to know she isn’t alone. I want to yell for help. But above all, I want to kick the shit out of the brute of a man holding her arm twisted behind her back as he drives into her brutally.

No, strike that. I want to kill that man.

I’m positive that if I had a gun at this moment, I would use it. Not to defend. Not to maim. But to kill.

My gaze drifts over her body a moment before it settles back on her face. Silently sobbing, her voice strained and weak, she pleads, “Please. Please stop. Don’t do this.”

As if Twitch can sense my resolve breaking, his hand tightens over my mouth and he whispers, “Just a little longer. Then we can walk away.”

But I can’t stop my body from reacting. Wrenching my arms as hard as I can, I struggle with the strong man. To no avail. So when he nips my ear hard, a muffled cry escapes me. That’s when he growls, “She wants it. Watch!”

Oh God! He’s one of those psycho stalker guys who rapes women then says they wanted it! 

The man holding Ling down is more than twice her petite size; there’s no way she could fight him, even if she wanted to. A sinking in my gut takes me back to those weeks ago when Twitch saved me from that…that...fucking monster who attacked me.

So why won’t he help now?

The man holds her arm twisted awkwardly behind her back as he thrusts into her. And with every thrust, a look of pain covers her mascara stained face. Her lipstick smeared down her chin, she has a fat lip. The man has visible scratch marks on his chest; dark red covers those scratches and I feel a little satisfaction in knowing that she marked him.

Suddenly, Ling reaches back with her free arm and pounds the side of her fist into his hip. The attempt is so weak that her arm flops down. She’s exhausted. Exhausted from fighting.

I can’t watch anymore.

Closing my eyes, Twitch’s hand drops from my mouth down to my chin, where his fingers hold it steadily. Almost forcefully, he shakes my chin harshly, “I told you to watch. Now fucking watch.”

My eyes snap open and what I see then changes everything.

Ling’s eyes open wide, her mouth rounds in an O, and she says, “Do it! Do it, motherfucker!”

The man smirks, flips her over, plunges back inside of little weak Ling, rears his arm back, and slaps her across the face.

Pressure builds in my ears. My eyes widen in shock. I can’t believe what I’m seeing.

She gasps loudly, then moans lustfully. He leans over her small body and fucks her hard. Fucks her like he hates her. With his extremely muscular arms on either side of her head supporting him, she leans up and their mouths clash in a vicious kiss.

I suddenly feel rude. As if I’m intruding on a special moment between the two. I haven’t even noticed that Twitch no longer holds me tightly, but has both arms wrapped around my waist with his lips at my temple.

The man snarls and I’m drawn back to the live show. Ling’s eyes flash in excitement before her face contorts once more in fear. Ever the actress, she begs, “No more. Please! No more. I can’t take it.”

The man’s hand slides across the cheek he had slapped and caresses it a moment before his arm rears back once more, and I don’t watch this time. Closing my eyes, I black out what is about to happen.

Smack!

Whimpers fill the air, and Ling cries out, “Oh God! Yes!”

Peeking, I watch Ling’s back come off the bed; her eyes flutter a moment before she jerks uncontrollably, moaning all the while. The man grits his teeth. “Fuck yeah! Come on my cock, babe. Milk me.”

His body stills, his ass clenches, and tipping his head back, he roars as his body thrusts fitfully into the spent body that is Ling.

Feeling as worn as the two panting and lying in a tangle on the bed, my body weakens from the current state of emotions rushing through my head. I lean back into Twitch. With a squeeze to my waist, he leads me away from the mess in front of me and back to his bedroom.

I know what he wants.

I know it should happen.

But I’m dreading this talk.

Fucking Ling.

Always messing with me. Always messing with what’s important to me. I have no idea why I keep her around. The bitch is more trouble than she’s worth.

You know why you keep her around.

Yeah. I guess I do. We’re alike in many ways. Not all, but we get each other.

Squeezing Lexi’s waist, I lead her down the hall until we stand in front of my room. Slowly, as to not spook her, I reach forward and open the door. Not saying a word, she allows me to walk her in and I shut the door behind us.

Letting go of her, I walk over to my bed and sit on the edge. But Lexi just stands there, by the dresser, staring into nothingness.

“Lexi, come over here.”

Nothing. She stands where she is. The light in her eyes has dimmed so much that I wonder if I’ve broken her so soon in our game.

“Come here, Lexi. Sit with me. We’ll talk.”

Relief and disappointment both pass through me as her brows furrow. “I– I don’t understand,” she says softly.

I state, “You wouldn’t.”

Taking a step back, she bumps into the dresser. “He was hurting her. He was—” Her eyes lose focus. “And she was… He hit her and she… I don’t understand.”

I hate the way she sounds so young right now. It takes me back to my childhood. A place I’d rather keep buried deep. Standing, I take her in a moment. My angel. She looks beautiful tonight. As always. But right now, she looks like a fallen angel.

Devastated. Rocked. And Distressed.

It’s sick, but I like it.

Begging my cock not to react is impossible. It jerks in my pants and I take a few steps towards her. I won’t beg. I don’t beg. But I will meet her halfway. For tonight. Holding out my hand to her, I order gently, “Take my hand.”

Finally looking up at me, her blue eyes looking much too pale, the gloom there actually starts to bother me.

Nope. I don’t like it.

Extending my hand a little further, she stares at it a long time before she whispers, “You knew. You– you knew.”

I nod. “Yeah. We can discuss it when you’re not so far away from me.”

Leaning even further back into the dresser, she asks, “What if I don’t want to discuss it?”

I don’t like being questioned. Gritting my teeth, I quash down my sudden annoyance and manage a gentle but calm voice as I tell her firmly, “We need to discuss it.”

Her eyes bore into mine. So much sadness there.

Reaching out slowly and uncertainly, she places her small hand into mine, and with a small tug, I pull her into my body, wrapping my arms around her and walking backwards towards the bed. Sitting, I bring her down to sit on my lap and play with the fingers on her left hand as I start. “You weren’t meant to see that.”

Nodding, she says dejectedly, “No. I suppose I wasn’t.” A short pause. “You knew she likes that stuff?”

I don’t reply. That being my reply.

Lexi stiffens. She whispers, “Have you…? I mean, how did you know?”

Once again, I let my silence speak for me.

She swallows hard. “I see.”

Suddenly, my chest pounds. It’s such an unfamiliar feeling that it rocks me. I realize the feeling is worry.

I’m losing her.

Quietly, I explain, “Ling is damaged. What she’s been through, I honestly don’t know how she made it out alive. I’m not saying her tastes are normal or natural, but I am saying to not judge her too harshly. She’s not all bad.”

Lexi tenses further. “How could you do that to her?”

Wrapping an arm around her waist as if to stop her from escaping, I remain honest. “Because she wanted it. It was consensual, even if it didn’t look like it. Ling is old enough to make her own decisions, and she isn’t dumb or impaired in any way.” Then, brutal honesty. “It was actually easy. It was hot. It turned me on. I enjoyed it, and I would do it again.”

Sad eyes meet mine. “You hit her?”

“Yes. More than once. Maybe even harder than he did.”

Nodding, her eyes turn frightened as she asks, “Will you hit me?”

Fighting to keep the anger under control, I ask, “You want me to hit you?”

And her answer is pure redemption. Her answer lets me know that I’ve far from lost her. “Not like that.”

Relief flows through me as I tug at a piece of her hair. “I’m good at reading people, Lexi. When we’re together, I know what you like and what you don’t. I know what you think you don’t like and are scared to try. I know how to push you further than you’re used to.” Allowing that to sink in a moment, I tell her, “I will spank you. I will be rough with you. I will push you to your limits. But I promise that if you give it a chance, you’ll enjoy taking it as much I like to deliver it.”

Her chest heaves with heavy breaths. “What if you read me wrong? What if it goes too far?”

Reaching up, my fingertips hold her chin firmly as I look into her eyes and ask seriously, “You like what we’ve done so far?”

She hesitates, and I know she wants to lie, so I’m surprised when she answers, “Yes. I did. You freak me out. You’re intense. And you kinda scare the shit out of me. But I like it.”

Hearing that makes me feel good. A little too good. Burying my face into her neck, I kiss the sensitive skin there and smile as her body shudders. Her next question has me seeing red. “So what do you like? Are you a Dom?”

Lifting my head away from her neck, I glare into her throat. My annoyance is clear when I snap, “Know what I don’t like? Labels.”

Her brow furrows. “Labels?”

Nodding, I confirm, “Labels.” Getting angrier by the second, I rant, “I like what I like and I make no excuses for that. Is what I like considered normal? Probably not. Yes, I think it’s clear that I enjoy being in control. Am I a Dom? No. Does that matter? No. Because I really don’t need anyone to get me unless I want them too.” My anger surges to a new level: Hulk. “Who the fuck is anyone to judge me? To put a label on me? No one knows me well enough to do that, and the people who do know me know that labelling me does not go well. So if you’re smart, Lex…you won’t do it.”

Lexi tries to stand. But I don’t let her up. My arm tightens around her waist and I hear panic in her voice. “I need you to let me go. I can’t think when you’re so close to me. I-I really didn’t like what I saw there, Twitch. I need some time to think. Time alone.”

Doing a remarkable job of suppressing my rage, I answer with a tight-lipped, “You can think later. Tonight, you stay with me. I already told Happy to arrange a car for Nicole and David.”

Her dim eyes light with anger. “Why would you—? Who do you think you—?” The cutest little growl comes from her throat and she stands, dislodging my arms from her waist. She begins to pace in front of me. “Listen, I know I didn’t make a big deal about you when you first started watching me. But shit! It’s creepy when you think about it. I don’t understand why I don’t feel unsafe around you, but I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that you saved me from that asshole who tried to rape me.” An emotion I’m not used to feeling settles over me. Guilt. She continues, “I need you to know that I’m currently in a state of freaked the fuck out. I won’t lie. You’re intriguing and attractive…well…gorgeous. And I was hoping to get to know you better. But now…” She stops her pacing to look into my eyes and says quietly, “…now I’m not so sure.”

Women are complicated creatures. I don’t know what to do with this information. It seems useless to me, but something deep in my gut tells me to listen to her.

Her shaking hands come together and she wrings them. “I need to go. And be away from you. I have a lot on my mind, and even though I like you in a weird way, you’re…” She swallows hard. “…I don’t think you’re good for me, Twitch.”

My lip curls, and before I can think of a response, the door clicks shut.

I’ve lost her.

As soon as I spy a smiling Happy at the bottom of the stairs, he takes one look at my face and his smile is replaced with a look of worry. Meeting me at the very last step, he wraps a large arm around my shoulders and I’m overcome with emotion. Gripping his lapel, I cry into his chest as he leads me through the back of the house to where a car is waiting.

He ushers me in, gives the driver my address, then says to me sadly, “Not everyone can be a fairy-tale hero.” He pauses a moment, then adds, “The world needs villains too.”

The car drives me home. I shower, then dress for bed.

I make an effort to text Nikki and Dave to let them know I’m home because I’m not feeling that great, and to party on without me.

Turning on my CD player and sliding under the covers, my last thought before I drift to sleep is how much I’m going to miss Twitch.

Stooping to a level I never thought I’d reach, I contemplate my current position.

My mind’s only excuse for what I’m doing is that I’m doing this for Lexi.

She needs me.

I need her.

I ignore my mind’s voice.

Because it’s wrong.

My bed dips, a tall body slides in behind me, and a strong arm comes around my waist, pulling me back into warmth.

My heart begins to race.

That’s when I smell his cologne.

I ask sleepily, “What are you doing here?”

Kissing my shoulder for a solid minute, he replies, “Ssssh. The more talking you do, the less time you’re thinking. So think, Angel. I’m just gettin’ some sleep.”

My heart stupidly swells.

He made an effort. He’s making an effort. Something tells me this is a big deal.

Leaning back into him, I whisper, “You’re not going to let me go, are you?”

Burying his face into my hair, he breathes me in and orders, “Sleep. Now.”

Unable to stop myself, I link my fingers with his at my hip and fall into a deep, restful slumber.

My brain at ease.

My heart content.

Today is not going well.

Turning left at the hall to get to Lexi’s office, I stop short when I hear a raised voice.

My brow furrows.

“You just don’t get it, Miss Ballentine! I have reasons. I can’t tell you what they are. You’re just going to have to trust me!” This comes from a young man. From the sounds of him, I’d say an adolescent.

Lexi shoots back, “Trust you like you obviously trust me?” Sarcasm drips from her voice.

I stand by the doorway and listen in on the heated exchange.

“Michael, you can’t keep cutting school like this. Mr Gilbert called me four times last week to let me know you’ve been tardy, and I’m seriously not happy with lying to your principal.” A pause, then more softly, “We had a deal. You keep your phone on you so I can contact you at all times. You really have no idea how much freedom I’m giving you, sweetie. Would you like to know why I treat you differently?”

I peek in.

Michael keeps his face lowered, arms crossed over his chest, chin squared in teenaged-defiance, while Lexi scoots closer to him and says quietly, “It’s because you’re smart, Mickey. I’ve been your case worker for two years now and I know smart when I see it. I also know that people are going to do what they can to make life easier, so I have to tell you how disappointed I am that Sam saw you the other day.”

Michael’s eyes widen, head still lowered. He shifts around nervously and swallows hard.

Lexi’s sadness sounds through her voice. “I thought you weren’t going to deal anymore. We had an agreement.”

Michael stays quiet a long time before he whispers, “Sometimes good people have to do bad things. It’s nothing personal. It’s just life, Miss Ballentine.”

Geez. That’s rough. But he hit the nail right on the head.

I’ve decided I like this kid. And Lexi was right; he is smart.

Reacting without thinking, I stride into the office. Lexi looks up and her eyes widen. She smiles warmly before her face turns to stunned disbelief. Rushing over to me, she hisses, “What are you doing here?”

Placing a hand up to stop her from talking, I move to stand in front of Michael. “Stand up, boy.”

Still sitting with his arms crossed, he looks me up and down with a curled lip before rolling his eyes and standing with a huff.

I ask, “How old are you?”

Looking to the side playing the I’m so uninterested that I’m getting distracted card, he replies, “I’ll be seventeen next week.”

“You need money?”

His face snaps up to mine.

Yeah.

I know desperation when I see it.

I state, “You need money.” Making a snap decision, I tell him, “You just quit dealing. Tell Frank or Hamid that you’re not dealing anymore. You tell them that you work for Twitch now and they won’t give you shit.”

Michael’s eyes widen comically, obviously shocked that I know the name of two of Sydney’s biggest dealers. He stutters, “Wh-wh-why? You don’t even know me. Why would you hire me?”

Not missing a beat, I respond, “’Cause Lexi’s right. You’re too fucking smart to be a low-time drug dealer on the streets of Sydney. Come work for me and we’ll turn you into something better. You won’t be doing anything great at the start, but you got to start somewhere.”

He eyes the tattoos on my neck, then looks down at the tattoos on my hands. His eyes move back up to my face and I know he’s looking at the small thirteen tattooed on my cheek bone.

He’s caving. And quick. I guess I expected more of a fight from him.

I ask firmly, “You in or out? ‘Cause if you’re out, I’ll just let you know that you’ll never get another opportunity like this again. I look after my employees, Michael, that’s why they don’t leave me.”

Michael looks unsure for a second. He asks, “What’s in it for you?”

My lip twitches.

Smart kid. I knew I liked him.

“A young employee who likes to learn. Someone with a fresh, untainted mind that I can teach without having to unteach the shit you’ve been taught. An employee who will work his way up. An employee who might even be me one day.”

Michael’s eyes have become both hopeful and wistful, and I know I’ve got him.

He nods and I smile gently, “Good.” Handing him a business card, I explain, “This is your new workplace. You’ll come every day after school and work with me ‘til eight PM. I’ll take you home myself, so you don’t need to worry about that. If, at the end of the year, you decide working with me is some place you see yourself in the future, you can quit school and I’ll pay for furthering your education through TAFE or university. Sound good?”

His face holds a look of disbelief and he nods slowly. Looking at his clothes, I tell him, “And dress nice, Michael.”

His face falls and I could smack myself.

That was insensitive.

Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my wallet. I take out five hundred-dollar bills and place them in his hand. “Like I was saying. Dress nice. And get a haircut too. You look like a freakin’ hippy.”

Dumbfounded.

That’s the only word I could use to explain his expression.

He blinks down at the money, gripping it tightly. Recovering quickly, he says, “Thank you…”

“Twitch,” I offer, then quickly add, “But you’ll call me Mr. T.”

Looking up at me, he utters, “Thanks, Mr. T. I promise I won’t disappoint you.”

I offer a small piece of my true self when I threaten, “You won’t disappoint me, Michael. It would be very stupid of you to disappoint me.”

Looking a little fearful, he says quietly, “Yes, sir.”

Yes, sir.

I like that. This was a good idea.

“And if you have the slightest inkling that you’re going to be late, even by a minute…” I wait to make sure he’s listening. He nods quickly for me to continue. “…You call me and you call Miss Ballentine. I don’t care what time of night or day it is. You fucking call. Got it?”

He nods vigorously. Wanting to put him at ease, I place a hand on his head and ruffle his scraggly brown hair. “Okay, boy. You’re dismissed. See you Monday.”

With his eyes to the money in his hand, he picks up his school bag and walks out of the office, closing the door behind him.

I inhale deeply, then exhale slowly, hoping that I somehow haven’t made the wrong decision.

The boy is smart. He’s quick with his words but has respect. He’ll do nicely.

“What was that?” Ah. Lexi.

Fiddling with a cuff link, I tell her, “You were here, babe. Just gave the boy a job.”

Walking across the office, she stands toe-to-toe with me.

And it makes me smile. A real smile.

She’s so small. With her hands on her hips and her face bunched, she looks pissed at me. I don’t know why she’d be pissed at me, but her stance has me a little worked up.

My eyes flash.

Sitting on the edge of her desk, I spread my knees apart and demand, “Come here, Lexi.”

Bending at the waist, she whisper-hisses, “No! I will not come here, Lexi just because you said so! What I’m still struggling with is why you just gave my seventeen-year-old two-year case a job when I don’t want him dealing!”

Back up.

Folding my arms across my chest, I lean back and study the floor, pursing my lips.

“You think I gave Michael a job dealing drugs for me?” I peek up at her through furrowed brows.

Her eyes lose some steam and her stance weakens. “Well, I did. Until you said that.” Reaching up, she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Dammit, now I’m just confused.”

Adorable. No shit.

“Babe, I gave that boy a job. A legit job. He needs the money for something, and he’s desperate enough to turn to the streets. Not gonna happen now. He’ll shadow me and be somewhat of a PA for me. You said it yourself, he’s smart. He needs something better than dealing. And I promise, if he sticks with me, I’ll take care of him. He’ll go to school and get a degree. He’ll be better off working for me.”

Her face has softened, but her eyes are still wary. Rolling her eyes, she asks sarcastically, “So, what? You’re just going to hire all my kids now?”

I immediately ask in all seriousness, “Would that make you happy?”

‘Cause I’d fucking do it.

For her, I’d do it.

Not answering, she shakes her head and her face becomes sweet again. “I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions and it was really shitty of me. I’m glad Michael is working for you rather than dealing. It was a nice thing to do. So, thank you, Twitch.”

Patting the inside of my knee, I demand once more, “Come here, Lexi.”

Looking me in the eye, she takes two steps forward to stand in-between my legs. Leaning forward, I brush the tip of my nose against hers and whisper, “You really happy about this, or you just sayin’ that?”

Her eyes close, she rubs the tip of her nose to mine again, and says huskily, “I’m really, really happy.”

I make a soft growling noise in my throat.

This little woman turns me on something fierce.

“So you’re grateful?” She opens her eyes and nods. Leaning back from her, I watch her through my hooded gaze and ask very slowly, “Grateful enough to suck my tongue?”

Her breath hitches and her eyes flash the brightest of blues.

I smile big.

She likes that.

Leaning closer, I lower my face to hers until our noses meet. Opening my mouth, I run my tongue along her lower lip. Her lips part a little and I slide my tongue into her mouth. And she sighs.

She fucking sighs.

As if my tongue was a fucking gift. The best gift she’s ever gotten.

Her lips close around my tongue and she sucks very, very gently. My already painfully-hard cock jerks in my pants. I’m craving her. I want to touch her, but this is about her showing me gratitude. My fingers curl around the edges of her desk to stop myself from kissing her back.

She sucks a little harder. Her lips are heavenly. Her hands come up to cup my cheeks, and tilting her head slightly, she sucks even harder, going so deep that our lips meet.

This is the single most erotic experience of my life.

A mewing sound escapes her and I pull back. Beautifully flushed, her eyes flutter open and I lick my lips.

I taste strawberry lip gloss.

Clearing my throat, I utter, “Gratitude displayed. Now thank me, baby.”

Asking her to thank me for letting her suck my tongue is a bit much, I’ll admit that, but she blinks before saying softly, almost dreamily, “Thank you, Twitch.”

And my cock nearly explodes.

I need to get out of here. Buttoning up my jacket, I stand. “Got shit to do, babe. I’ll call.”

Returning to her usual self, she smiles, “No. You won’t.”

Smiling back, I respond, “No. I won’t.”

Then I turn on my heel and walk away from the girl of my dreams.