He spun me around so that I was facing the body jets, and turned them all on full force. I gasped, the initial water cold, but then it turned hot, three separate jets spraying my tits, stomach and pussy. Brad turned the bottom jet until it sprayed strong, the highest intensity. “Not yet. Spread your legs,” he said gruffly. I obeyed, placing my legs the way he wanted, then arching my body when the water hit me in just the right spot. Oh my God. The strong stream felt amazing, vibrating my clit and spreading pleasure throughout my body. Brad groaned behind me, and ran his hands underneath my body, brushing my nipples, then traveling down and making sure that the spray was hitting me where it should. I wasn’t expecting his dick when the huge girth pressed insistently on my wet pussy. He forced it in, fast and quick, and I called out in pain and surprise.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding my body against him and grabbing my breast, his voice thick in my ear.
“I’m not,” I gasped, my body beginning to adjust to his size. He was so hard, so thick, so...everywhere inside me. For the first time in my life I felt full—felt him in every wall, muscle and nerve in my pussy. He moved slowly, in and out, then faster, the movement shaking me, my inner walls tightening around every inch of him. Squeezing my breast, he drilled himself into me, and I arched, fucking him back. The water spray continued on my clit, and I could feel myself getting close to the edge, the crescendo in my head and body growing. I started letting out every pent-up emotion I had, telling him to fuck me harder, and longer, telling him how much I loved his big cock. I heard the words leaving my mouth, some other person’s declarations, some untamable slut running out of control. My words ran together until finally I exploded, a scream leaving my throat, my legs shaking and pussy pulsing, pleasure bursting over and over again in sweet, blinding, earth-shattering release. He kept up the incredible rhythm, stretching out my orgasm until it slowly subsided. As it left me, so did any remaining strength in my legs. He caught me when I collapsed against him, and he turned me, his cock falling out, and held me to him.
My eyes focused and I frowned at him. “Did you...?”
He smiled and kissed me. “No.”
“Then why are we...?”
“I wasn’t fucking you for me. Besides, I was stupid. I shouldn’t have been inside of you without a condom. I got caught up in the moment and wasn’t prepared.” He let out a long breath, looking down into my face, a wary look in his eyes that seemed to convey more than just remorse about the condom.
I shifted, finding the strength again in my legs, and bumped into his cock in the process. It responded, twitching, and I looked up quickly, catching him in an unguarded moment, his face tight, eyes closed. He was struggling. I realized it instantly, his desire to resist me conflicting with his male need. And I was the source of it all. The knowledge was power, and I reached down, catching him in my hand, gripping the shaft firmly, closing my own eyes at the utter bliss of having his huge organ rock hard in my hand. The first stroke of my hand elicited a quick intake of breath, his eyes flying open and his face frowning down at me.
“Stop,” he whispered, his eyes searching mine.
A playful smile filled my face. “You want to make this about me?”
“Of course.” He gritted the words out, pulling my slick body to his again, and rocking gently forward in time with my strokes.
“Then finish the job. I’m not leaving this shower until I have your cum in my mouth.” I spoke the words deliberately, a challenge behind them, and was pleased at the reaction in his face, the blatant arousal that he allowed to break through.
He groaned, both of his hands instantly on my ass, gripping the muscles there and lifting me easily into the air again, spinning until I was up against the wall. My legs automatically wrapped around him. He held me there, the cold tile against my back, lifting me up until my breasts were in his face, his mouth urgently on them, gentle nips with his teeth followed by soothing swipes of his tongue. I felt a finger on my ass, rubbing the tight pucker of skin, gentle pressure that caused a delicious clench in my cunt. I moaned, throwing my head back, his mouth moving to my neck, driving me wild, his finger taking me deeper, a second one now inside my wetness, teasing me mercilessly. His mouth was suddenly at my ear, his deep voice so feral and masculine, taking me, owning me with the words he whispered. “God, I’ve wanted this so bad, wanted inside you, to feel your sweet cunt tightening around my cock. You drive me wild, Julia. I just...I don’t know what to do with you.”
I tightened around his fingers, gasps coming from my mouth, his words taking me to the edge. “I need it, please.” I squeezed my legs, digging my heels into the firm muscles of his ass, my hands grabbing his neck, gripping it tightly. All I could think about was filling the giant need my body had for his cock, the need that was being fueled by the orgasm building inside of me. “Please.”
His mouth claimed me at the same time that his cock did, both of them taking my body by storm, assaulting my senses in sensual perfection. He drove into me in long, sure strokes, pinning my body to the wall with his strength, and moving only his pelvis in deep, penetrating movement. I took my mouth off his, too overwhelmed by sensation to be able to do anything but moan. My head dropped back against the wall, eyes shut tight. His lips moved to my neck, devouring it as his finger pressed incessantly on the pucker of my ass. I fought the crest of pleasure, the wave of ecstasy, but lost the battle, his strokes quickening when he felt me tighten, his body knowing the moment my orgasm came. It was unending, a full-body spasm that seemed to last forever, waves strengthened with every jackhammer thrust he gave.
I collapsed against him when it finally ended, sagging in his strong arms, my breaths coming out in gasps, my fingers tight in his hair, wanting every part of him touching me. He lowered me, setting me on my feet, his cock sliding out of me, slick with my juices.
I slid down his body and knelt on the hard stone floor, sitting on my heels, looking up at him. He stood like a dark shadow above me, his torso silhouetted by the light, the water spraying off his back, creating a halo of liquid heat. It fell like a curtain around me, my body protected by his. His face was shrouded in darkness but I heard his voice over the water, gruff: “Now. Please.” His hand pressed on the back of my head and I focused on the new center of my existence, the rock-hard masterpiece in front of me.
I took it deep on my first taste, angling my neck and squeezing the girth of it down my throat, past the curve and to a place that was intended only for this. I gagged, my eyes tearing at the effort, my saliva coating his shaft and causing it to slide easier into my mouth. I sucked hard as I withdrew, feeling it tighten in my mouth, swell to its full width. I went to town, working the shaft with my hand and mouth, focusing only on the feel and taste of him, pure masculinity that was, at the moment, all mine.
He moaned, tugging my hair as he rocked into me, saying my name over and over as he dominated my mouth. My gags excited him, and I felt it the moment he hit the edge, a loud groan emitting from his mouth, the moment his cock twitched in my hand, liquid sex pouring through it, and I sucked it down, greedily, wanting proof of his arousal, proof of my new ownership. My mouth was filled with his load, the mass of it spilling out on my hand, lubricating the strokes I continued with gusto.
He finally shuddered, pushing me back gently, sliding his cock from my lips, watching closely, his eyes dark with wonder. He bent, grabbing me under my arms, pulling me to my feet as I wiped my mouth. I turned, stepping under the hot spray, rinsing my face and allowing the heat to run over my body, to massage my spent muscles. I felt him behind me, his hard body flush against mine, his hands wrapping around me, cupping my small breasts from behind. He kissed the back of my neck. “Thank you,” he whispered.
I turned, snaking my arms around his neck. “Thank you. For letting me pay you back. I needed it as much as you did.”
He grinned down at me. “I doubt that.” His eyes turned serious and he ran
his big hands down my arms. “Are you okay?”
I frowned at him. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“I didn’t know if you regretted it.”
I blew a wet strand away from my face, closing my eyes in spent bliss. “I’m not one of those girls, Brad. I needed you just now more than I’ve ever needed anyone. I wanted you to fuck me. Which you did—very well, by the way.” I smiled but his hands didn’t leave my body; his eyes remained watchful.
I avoided his examination and stood on my toes, kissing him, his cock still hard against my leg. I reached down, wrapping my hand around it, squeezing tight, loving the feel of stiff rod beneath tight skin. I moved my hand, jacking its length, and his breath caught in my mouth, his hand pushing mine away.
“Stop,” he whispered against my lips, his tongue taking ownership of me before I could respond. When he pulled back, his eyes glinted merrily as I pouted.
“Fine.” I turned, grabbing the body scrub, squeezing a generous amount onto my palms and working it into a foam. He came up behind me, the closeness causing my breath to hitch. I have got to get myself under control. He kissed me once, gently, on the back of my neck, then I heard the shower door open and close, and I was alone in there once again.
* * *
For breakfast, we decided to go to the buffet downstairs. I dressed casually in ripped jeans, a white tank and leather flip-flops. The buffet was huge, and I unintentionally piled my plate high just by grabbing a little bit of everything. We sat in a plastic booth and I grinned through a mouthful of pancakes at Brad.
“Whaart?” he said, his mouth full as well.
“It’s just funny. You and me at an all-you-can-eat buffet in Vegas, stuffing our faces after you just boned me in the shower. You know Broward would have a heart attack right now if he knew what we were doing.”
“I don’t think pancakes are outlawed in the corporate handbook.”
I stuck my tongue out at him and grinned. “So,” I said, spearing a lone strawberry and dipping it in yogurt, “can I go on your supersecret mission, or what?”
“You just want to go to find out what it is. It’s really not that exciting.”
“Then tell me what the errand is. Then I’ll decide if I want to go.”
“I’m going to visit an old friend of mine. She lives in Boulder City, about a half-hour drive east of Las Vegas.”
“An ex-girlfriend?”
“No... I do have female friends that I don’t sleep with.”
I snorted. “Likely.”
“Do you want to come or not?”
“Will the...friend mind if I come?”
He smiled. “I think she can hold her jealousy in check for your visit.”
“Do you mind if I come? I feel like I’m forcing myself on you.”
“No. If you come, I have a side trip we can take. Though you are a pain in the ass, I wouldn’t mind your company for just a bit longer.”
“Fine. Then I’m coming. I’m getting a little sick of the...” I waved my hand to encompass all that Bellagio was.
“Luxury?” he asked with a grin.
“Yeah. Luxury. Thanks for the help.”
“No problem.”
Twenty-Three
One hour later, we were standing next to a brand-new Dodge Viper at some type of a Hertz on crack. The rental dealership had a collection of Vipers, Ferraris and Lambos, as well as the more-refined Bentleys and Rolls. I guess Tiffany had gone with the lower price point and set Brad up with the Viper. It was bright blue, a convertible and as ostentatious and sexy as they got.
“You’re driving this? I was thinking we’d be in, you know, a four-door Mercedes or something. Is this even street legal?”
“I’m driving this. You’re driving that.” He pointed over my shoulder and I spun, seeing an identical red clone. “It’s stick shift. Will that be a problem?”
I turned and looked back at him coolly—at least with my best impression of coolly. “Not unless you can’t keep up.”
He laughed and banged the top of the car with his hand, eliciting something close to a gasp from the salesman. “You’re on, baby.”
An employee showed me the basic schematics of the car. There wasn’t much to show. The car was built for one thing—speed. Other than basic A/C and what looked like an impressive sound system, all he really had to show me was how to operate the top. We went ahead and left it down. It seemed way too complicated to operate, and I didn’t want to break anything in the next four hours.
“Any last questions?” the man asked, handing me the keys.
“Does it have a radar detector?” I asked innocently.
The pain in his eyes answered my question.
* * *
I pulled up next to Brad, my eyes flashing in excitement.
“You sure you want to miss out on riding with me? You look a little glum,” he said sarcastically.
I sighed dramatically. “It’s going to be really tough, but I’m going to try and suffer through.”
“All right then. Follow me out of the city. If we get separated, stay on 515 till we get to Boulder City. There’s a Taco Bell right in the city limits. Meet me there.”
“Got it.” I gave him a thumbs-up and revved my engine. He shook his head at me and pulled out.
We took a left out of the dealership and came to an almost-immediate stop at a light. The engine roared, even at a standstill. I massaged the pedals and prepared myself. My start was a little rough. I gave it too much gas and the engine revved high. Better than a stall. I worked my way through the gears as we drove through the city, getting used to the feel of the car. Finally, Brad got in the turn lane for the highway and we merged into the fast-moving traffic. Opening up the car felt similar to taking off. I cranked up the radio and was doing eighty before I could blink, and was still in third gear! I upshifted and felt the car comfortably cruise. We behaved, never crossing over a hundred, but zigzagging past cars as if they were sitting still. Three songs later, we were slowing and pulling over to a Taco Bell. I frowned, not ready to be at the destination yet. I pulled up next to Brad and turned down the radio.
“You want to ride with me from here?” he yelled, over the drone of the engines.
“Nah. I’ll follow.”
“Whatever you want. Stay close.”
He pulled a tight U-turn in the small parking lot, and I followed suit, the rear-wheel drive throwing me off a bit. The back end spun out a little and I came close to plowing into an older-model minivan and a mother walking with two kids. I made an apologetic grimace and tried to call out an apology, but Brad was pulling out and I didn’t want to get left behind. She shot me a glare and pulled her kids way over onto the curb. A little overdramatic. One of the kids, a preteen boy with thick glasses, tripped over the curb, staring and pointing at my car. The girl, a little older, with a bored look on her face, whipped out an iPhone and took a picture. I rolled into traffic behind Brad.
Boulder City seemed to be a typical small town. It had a few of the tourist booths advertising Hoover Dam and Lake Mead excursions, but also had all the standard trappings of normalcy. Our cars had seemed normal on the Strip, but in suburbia they stuck out like sore thumbs. Ambidextrous, jeweled thumbs, but still sore ones. I loved seeing kids’ reactions in passing sedans and SUVs, and felt as though every guy in a three-mile radius craned his neck to look as we passed. We left the highway and turned down one side street after another, Brad seeming to know the route well. The engine was beginning to get hot beneath me by the time we finally stopped, pulling up to a small house at the end of a cul-de-sac. The yard was tiny but well tended, and there were fresh flowers planted by the mailbox. A midlevel Mercedes was parked in the driveway, the only sign of wealth.
I turned off the car, letting it work its way to silence, and then stepped out, trying to smooth
my windswept hair and brush the road dirt from my face. I should have brought a brush. Knowing Brad, this woman would be dressed to the nines with her breasts on full display while I looked like a bedraggled homeless girl. I gave up on my appearance and joined Brad on the front porch. He rang the bell and we listened to its chimes ring through the home.
Thirty seconds later, the door opened.
I found myself staring at Betty Crocker. Or, at least, her identical twin. I expected this old woman’s twentysomething daughter to pop out from behind a ceramic rooster, but Brad greeted the woman heartily enough that I understood her to be the “old friend” that we were visiting. I didn’t realize that the man literally meant “old.”
I stood quietly on the front stoop, waiting for the woman to stop gushing over Brad. Finally, her eyes turned to me. Behind her delicate gold glasses sat razor-sharp blue eyes, and I understood immediately that this woman was neither senile nor unintelligent. “Brad, introduce me to your friend,” she chided, placing a slightly shaky hand on his shoulder.
Brad turned to me with a smile. “Evelyn, this is Julia. She’s a friend of mine from home, and came along with me this trip.”
Evelyn sniffed disapprovingly. “She looks awfully young.”
Irritated, I stepped forward onto the threshold. “I am young, and he’s practically ancient. But he has managed to make this trip so far without his walker, and I am still fresh-faced and virtuous, so there is hope for us yet.” I kept my face blank and eyes innocent and hoped she wouldn’t smack me with a spare oxygen tank.
She burst out laughing, her face a sea of delighted wrinkles. “Now, where are my manners? Come in!” She held open the door and a burst of wonderfully cool air hit my skin. I walked through the doorway; she shook my hand energetically as I passed. She scurried around us and told us to go to the living room, which had plain cream sofas and lots and lots of afghans lying around. The woman clearly crocheted in her spare time, and apparently had lots of spare time. The huge TV, an impressive flat screen that made mine at home seem pathetic, was turned to a cooking show. She picked up a gigantic remote and turned it off.