Excerpt for In Production by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

This page may contain adult content. If you are under age 18, or you arrived by accident, please do not read further.

In Production







Elisabeth Roseland

Dedication

To Christian, who helps me become a better person.

To Christa, who helps me become a better writer.

My deepest thanks to you both.

Chapter One

“Stop. Stop! Stop!”

He raised his head to look at her.

“Have you ever eaten pussy before?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am. I’m not your mama.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“How much pussy have you eaten in your life?”

“Um…”

“Don’t lie.”

“Some.”

Marie lowered her head back on the pillow. “Okay, keep going.” His tongue haphazardly jumped from one spot to the next, not once touching her clit or even meandering anywhere in the vicinity. “Stop. Stop! Dammit.”

He lifted his head.

“What’s your name again?”

“Rasheed.”

“Rasheed, put your clothes on and get out.”

“What?”

“I said, grab your stuff and get out.” Rasheed slowly climbed out of bed and gathered his discarded clothes from the floor. “And when you get back, tell Haven not to send you to me again. Actually, you know what?” She leaned over and grabbed her cell phone off her nightstand. “I’ll do it myself.”

She scrolled through her address book to the number. Rasheed, now fully dressed, stood silently in the middle of the bedroom. She looked up at him. “What are you waiting for? We’re done here.”

He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I…um…can you…um… I mean, I need to get—”

Marie raised one eyebrow. “You want to get paid for that half-assed attempt?” Rasheed continued to stand there, looking dejectedly at the floor. She got up and picked her purse off the dresser. “Here.” She thumbed through her wallet, pulled out some bills and gave the money to him. “Now get out.”

He mumbled his thanks and scurried out of the room. The front door slammed behind him. She sat on the bed and picked up the phone.

It rang once. “Haven? What kind of nonsense did you send me?”

“What was wrong with Rasheed?”

“What was wrong with him? He couldn’t eat pussy for shit. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Did you even test him before you sent him out?”

“Of course. I didn’t try him myself, but Alicia did. She said he was great.”

“Alicia? That girl is like seventeen. What does she know?”

Haven sighed. “She’s twenty-five.”

“Whatever. Same difference. Just don’t ever send him to me again.”

“I’m sorry he didn’t work out. I thought he’d be perfect for you. He fits your specifications—over six feet, athletic build, brown skin, young—”

“And he has to know how to fuck. You forgot that part.”

“Okay, so Rasheed is off the list for you. No problem.” She paused. “You know, I really wish you’d let me send over someone in his thirties. I know someone who would be great.”

“Hell no.” Marie propped her pillows against the headboard and lay back. “If I wanted to fuck a guy my age, I’d pick him up in the bar at the Ritz. Then I could fuck him for free, instead of paying you a fortune for a special delivery.”

“Marie, you know my prices are not exorbitant.”

“Still, it’s the general principle of the thing.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you what. Since you are one of my best customers, I’ll set you up on a date with Brian. No charge.”

“He fits my requirements?”

“Yes. Only, he can’t come over tonight. He’s with another client. How’s Wednesday?”

“No good. I’m in LA all week. Is he available on Saturday?”

“Hold on, let me check.” Marie heard typing. “Yes, I’ve put you in his schedule. Should he meet you at the same spot?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“Great. And please let me know how he works out.”

“You know I will.” Marie hung up the phone and sighed.

Chapter Two

Coffee.

That was the first thing on Marie’s mind when she opened her eyes on Saturday morning. Her week-long LA trip had been exhausting but a huge success. She made a lot of great connections at the Producers Guild of America conference and strengthened her ties to the Hollywood community. Chicago television news was great, even exciting most days, but Hollywood was a whole other level—the next level to her career—and she could feel herself on her way.

“Morning, Marie. The usual?” Jimmy reached behind him for the large cup.

“Thanks, Jimmy.” She picked up a copy of the newspaper sitting on the rack in front of her. “And I’ll take the paper too.”

“Sure thing.” Jimmy keyed the total into the register, and she pulled her wallet out of her purse.

“Let me get this.” A twenty-dollar bill appeared in front of her, and she turned to see the one person she always tried to avoid.

“What are you doing here?”

“Getting coffee.” Vince’s smile lit up his face. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” she grumbled, snatching the money out of his hand and handing it back to him. “I’m not letting you pay for my coffee.”

“Yes, you are.” He gave the bill to Jimmy with a sharp nod. “Despite my best efforts, I never got a chance to take you out to dinner in LA, so the least I can do is buy your morning caffeine fix.” He turned back to Jimmy. “And give me a large as well.”

Jimmy made change and handed their coffee to them. “Thank you,” she said as she picked up her cup and newspaper and headed for the cream and sugar table. “Vince, there are approximately one thousand coffee shops in the city of Chicago. How is it you happened to be here at this one on a Saturday at the exact same time I’m here?” She added a splash of cream and two sugar packets to her cup.

“Just lucky, I guess. I’m going to take it as a sign I made the right decision to go into work today. Come sit with me for a few minutes.”

“I can’t, I’ve got a lot of work to d—”

“So do I. Just a couple of minutes.” He gestured to an empty table, his blue eyes scanning her face expectantly.

“Okay, fine. Just a couple of minutes,” Marie muttered as she sat.

“Great.” Vince slid into the chair across from her. He was dressed casually in jeans and a white T-shirt, his wavy salt-and-pepper hair still slightly damp from a morning shower. “So, I see I’m not the only one who goes into work on a Saturday.”

“I’m not going in today. I live around here.”

“Oh, really? Living and working all within a few blocks of each other?”

Marie took a sip of her coffee. “Absolutely. It cuts down on the commute. I can be at work in less than ten minutes.”

Vince chuckled. The deep sound radiated from his chest. “Always on the job.”

“Of course. You of all people should know TV news is a twenty-four seven gig. Why else would you be going into the studio on a Saturday?”

“Fair point. And clearly, I need to stay on my game if my five o’clock broadcast is going to continue to beat yours in the ratings.”

“Your station beat mine only three days out of the five, and the only reason it did was because my assistant producer, Theresa, was running the show instead of me. Now that I’m home—” she took a sip from her cup, “—we’ll be back on top.”

Vince grinned broadly, and the lines at the corners of his eyes wrinkled. “You know, that’s what I like about you. You’re the only other TV producer in Chicago who works as hard as I do.” He paused. “So why did I get the feeling out in LA that you were avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t.” Marie played with her cup, picking slightly at the paper holder. “I was busy. There were some people I needed to hook up with while I was out there, and I run into you all the time here so…” She took a drink to finish her sentence.

“Like right now.”

“Exactly. Like right now.”

He stared at her for a moment, his chiseled face softening. “Okay, then. So now that we’re both back, let me take you out to lunch one day.”

“No.”

Vince blinked. “Why not?”

“B-because…” Marie searched for a good reason, “…because I’m busy.”

Vince raised his eyebrows. “Too busy to eat?”

“Yes. Too busy to eat.”

Vince sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “You know that’s a terrible excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse.”

A small smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Of course it is. And you’re going to have to do better than that.”

“I…uh—”

“Okay, let me help you out. How about…I don’t eat lunch because that’s how I keep my figure, or I don’t actually eat any food at all because I’m allergic to everything and subsist on a diet of coffee and Tic Tacs? Or how about, I do eat lunch, but I would never eat it with you because being seen in public with you is a complete embarrassment and would cause me to lose all my friends and some of my family members?”

Marie laughed in spite of herself. “No. None of those things. Besides, I’m sitting here with you right now, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you are. And lunch is the next step. So how about it?”

Vince’s powerful forearms and large hands rested on the table, his biceps flexing in response to his movements. She brought her gaze back up to meet his. “I’m sorry, Vince. I can’t. I gotta go.” Marie stood. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll see you around sometime.”

Vince stood as well, but before he had an opportunity to say anything else, she headed for the door and forced herself to keep from looking back.





Once home, she spent her day returning emails and phone calls. Theresa had done an okay job handling the week’s news productions, but her level of attention to detail didn’t impress Marie. She typed out an apology email to one of the executives at the station. She had recorded all of the five o’clock news broadcasts so she could analyze Theresa’s work when she returned from LA. Some of the edits were sloppy, and the writing was less than stellar. Theresa would never get beyond assistant producer if she continued to make those kinds of mistakes.

In between composing emails and making notes for the upcoming week, she found herself thinking about Vince—his rugged good looks, his undeniable charm, his easy, confident sensuality. Marie shook her head as she pressed Send. She didn’t have time for Vince. Besides, with an ex-wife, two teenage daughters and a driver’s license that said he was over forty, he wasn’t her type.

Before she knew it, day had turned into evening. Her heart beat a little faster in excitement at the thought of a date with Brian. It had been a while since she had purchased some pleasurable after-hours entertainment courtesy of Ebony Nights. Rasheed’s lame attempt at sex didn’t count. About two weeks before him, she had enjoyed Carl. Marie savored the spark of desire between her legs as she remembered him. Young, athletic and limber with the stamina of that battery-powered rabbit from the commercial, Carl was one of her favorites. He always made her come several times in one evening, and best of all, he took direction very well. Marie hoped Brian would do the same.

After her shower, she surveyed her wardrobe choices before finally deciding on a black mini-skirt and a white, button-up blouse. She knew she didn’t have to use sexy clothes to seduce Brian—one of many advantages of using an escort service—but wearing an outfit that accentuated all her curves and highlighted her brown skin made Marie feel sexy. She slipped on her heels. Sexy always felt good.

Once outside, she inhaled the warm summer air. The Saturday evening streets were alive and buzzing with activity. Couples strolled by quietly arm in arm, and groups of partygoers joked and laughed as they bumped and jostled each other down the street. Marie hailed a cab and headed to the W Hotel. The bar at the W was her favorite place to meet her dates for the first time. The public nature and high visibility of the bar afforded a kind of anonymity, while at the same time the cozy tables and chairs were perfect for an intimate conversation so she could size her date up and make sure he wasn’t a psycho—or unattractive. Although she had to admit she’d never had to turn a date away for either one of those reasons. Haven and Ebony Nights always came through for her on that account. In her bedroom, she administered the true test.

Marie entered the bar and found a table near the entrance. From there, she could see the patrons coming and going. She checked her watch—8:50 p.m., ten minutes early. She began the countdown. She considered five minutes before 9:00 to be on time. An arrival at 9:00 was late. Five minutes after 9:00 was cutting into her paid time, and anything after 9:05 was inexcus—

“You must be Marie.” A deep voice startled her from behind. Marie jumped and turned. “I’m sorry.” She found herself staring at a pair of smoldering dark brown eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He extended his hand. “I’m Brian.”

Marie slipped her hand into his, not once taking her eyes off of his face. His hair was cut close, and his full lips parted in a friendly smile. His firm and warm grasp had Marie wondering how it would feel to have those hands all over her.

“You’re early.” Marie gestured for him to sit down.

“I like to be,” he said as he sat across from her. “And I see that you do too.”

Marie nodded slightly. “Punctuality is important.” She sized him up. The top two buttons of his navy blue shirt were undone, showing off a subtle gold chain resting against his brown skin. He shifted his lean frame as he made himself comfortable. A cool confidence radiated from him—no nervousness, no awkwardness, just a sense of calm assurance. He watched her studying him. “How old are you?” she asked.

“Twenty-eight.” Marie’s eyes narrowed. “What? Am I too old for you?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just that you seem older than twenty-eight.”

“Ah, age is just a number, isn’t it?” He winked, and the desire began to rise in her belly. “Let’s order a drink.” Brian signaled the waitress.

“Okay, sure.” Marie ordered a glass of shiraz, and Brian ordered a beer.

As the waitress scurried off to get their drinks, Marie began her usual questions. “How tall are you?”

“Six one.”

“How long have you been working for Ebony Nights?”

“Mmm, about six years.”

Marie raised her eyebrows. “Really? That long? You must have been a baby when you started.”

Brian grinned. “Not quite.” The waitress set their drinks down in front of them. He took a sip. “And you’re a TV producer?”

Marie paused for a moment. “Yes.” She enjoyed the flavor of the full-bodied and dry shiraz as it slid over her tongue. “How did you know? Did Haven tell you that?”

“I like to do a little research on my clients before I meet them. It helps me to get to know them better. How was LA?”

Marie paused again, her glass suspended in the air a few inches from her lips. “It was fine. Although not as warm as here, which is surprising for this time of year.”

“It is. But there’s no better place to be in the summer than Chicago. If I have to go out to LA, I prefer to do it in the winter. The smog, pollution and propensity for forest fires are enough to keep me away during the summer months.”

Marie contemplated him. “Are you sure you’re twenty-eight?”

Brian laughed. “Yes. Why?”

“Because you don’t talk like it.”

He leaned forward in his chair; Marie caught a whiff of his cologne—deep, slightly citrusy, seductive. She took another sip from her glass and crossed her legs under the table. The desire that had started in her belly moved down between her thighs. “What am I supposed to talk about? Lil Wayne’s latest album? The Bears? The new club that just opened in the South Loop? We can talk about those things if you’d like.” He reached out and softly stroked the top of her hand. “But you seem like a woman who prefers more intellectual conversation.”

Brian’s touch sent a shiver up Marie’s spine. A delicious wetness began to grow as she pressed her legs together and shifted in her seat. She quietly congratulated Haven for making up for the Rasheed incident. “Actually, I think I’m done talking. Let’s continue this at my place.”

Brian withdrew his hand and sat back again. “So soon? The conversation was just getting started.”

“We’re not here to talk, now are we?” Marie reached for her purse.

He settled into his chair and took a long drink from his glass. “Ah, but the conversation is half the fun, isn’t it? A meeting of the minds before a meeting of the bodies?”

Marie said nothing and simply stared at him. There was a mischievous look in his eyes that she found strangely appealing. She put her purse back down. “Okay, you want to talk first? Then let’s talk.” She gestured to him. “You first.”

“Okay. So what took you out to LA? Business or pleasure?”

“Business. I went to a conference.”

“What kind of conference?”

“It was a conference held by the Producers Guild of America.”

“Interesting. Were you there for the panels or the networking?”

Marie took another sip before continuing. “Both. Some of the panels were great, and I got to hear about the newest technologies in editing, but the real reason anyone goes to the conference is for the networking.”

“Trying to take your career to the next level, huh?”

“Always. This is a competitive business. You’ve got to be on your A-game if you’re going to make it.”

Brian finished his beer and leaned forward casually on his forearms, his gaze steadying on her. “And what’s the next level for a Chicago television producer?”

She leaned forward as well. “Movies, of course. Hollywood. I mean, TV is good. Chicago is great. But one can only package stories about gang shootings and crooked politicians for so long before it becomes routine. But producing movies for Hollywood…” she finished the last bit of wine, “…now that’s where it’s at.”

“I can imagine. So how does a TV producer go from Chicago to Hollywood?” He gestured to the waitress to bring them another round.

“Well, you have to get their attention. Produce a movie that gets some buzz about it. Take it around to all the film festivals. Win some awards. Find that golden script or that documentary subject, and you’ve got your ticket. Doors start opening.”

“So have you?” Brian’s focused attention was intoxicating to Marie. “Produced that award-winning movie?”

She leaned in farther, almost coming out of her seat. “Not yet, but I’ve found my subject.”

“You have? What is it?”

The waitress returned, placed their fresh drinks in front of them and took the old ones away. Marie watched her leave before continuing. “Do you watch the news?”

Brian made a face. “Of course, I watch the news. I even read it on occasion.”

Marie held up her hand. “Right. Sorry. Sorry. Anyway, do you remember the story about a year ago about the Chicago Board of Trade whistleblower?”

“Yes, he blew the whistle on that huge insider trading scandal that got something like one hundred people arrested for fraud.”

“One hundred and fifty.” Marie took a sip of her wine. The second glass went down even more smoothly than the first. “But that’s really just the tip of the iceberg. There are links to hundreds of others from around the world. My sources tell me as much as fifty million dollars were stolen as a result of the activities.” She lowered her voice. “I have a connection with the whistleblower, and I’m producing a documentary about the incident. We’re in final negotiations now. Once I secure his cooperation, we’re ready to start filming.”

Brian whistled softly. “Whoa. How’d you hook up with him?”

Marie sat back in her chair, her glass of wine in hand. “I have my ways.”

He chuckled quietly and shook his head. She watched him take another sip—his full lips wrapping around the edge of the beer glass and his large hands gripping it firmly. She wondered if the size of his hands were an indicator of the size of his cock. She grew wet again at the thought of it.

She set her glass back down on the table. “So your turn, Brian. Tell me how you got into this particular line of business.”

He shrugged. “Ah, mine’s the usual story. I saw an opportunity to make some good money, and I took it.”

“Does your mother know what you do?”

“No, she doesn’t. She thinks I’m still selling real estate. Fortunately, she doesn’t live in Chicago.”

“So you used to sell real estate?”

“Yes.”

Marie paused. “Did you go to college?”

“Yes.”

“Did you graduate?”

Brian laughed. “Yes, with a double major in international business and marketing, in fact.”

“So wait a minute…” Marie cocked her head to the side. “How did you have time to graduate from college, work in real estate and be an escort for six years all by the age of twenty-eight?”

Brian moved his leg so it was brushing up against hers. It felt solid and strong. Marie quivered at the thought of his naked legs entwined with her own. “Oh, there’s time.” He leaned forward and took her hand, slowly playing with her fingers. He looked at her steadily. “There’s always time to do things you enjoy doing.”

Marie said nothing and savored Brian’s slow, sensual touch. She took her foot and trailed it up his calf, wishing he were sitting next to her so she could slip her hands into his lap underneath the table. “So what’s your specialty, Brian?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know.” Marie took another sip. The effects of her drink were beginning to wash over her. “I like to hire professionals to take care of business, so as a professional, what do you do best?”

A smirk touched the corners of his mouth. “Well, you’ll just have to wait to find out.”

Chapter Three

Marie couldn’t wait much longer, so after Brian’s insistence that he pay the tab, they jumped in a cab.

“Jefferson and Lake,” Marie told the cab driver as she slid into the back seat. Brian, who had opened the door, sat next to her, his firm thigh pressing against her leg.

“So, you don’t live far?” Brian put his arm over the back of her seat and rested his hand on her shoulder. He stroked it with the same sensual rhythm he had used when touching her hand at the table.

“No, not at all.” With no barrier between them, Marie put her hand on his thigh and slowly moved it up to his crotch. But Brian took her hand in his, raised it to his lips and gently gave it a kiss.

“Ah ah ah, not yet,” he whispered.

“What?”

He smiled over the top of her hand and kissed it again. “I said not yet. We have all night.”

Marie looked at him, unable to say anything. She was paying for his body, which meant she should be able to touch it—whenever she wanted to. She pulled away from him. “This is not how I want it to go.”

Brian’s hand moved from her shoulder to the back of her neck, continuing its slow, circular pattern. The streetlights zigged and zagged through the backseat as the cab flew down Michigan Avenue. In the intermittent light, Brian’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “But this is how it’s going. So just relax and enjoy it.”

Her hands wanted to fly up and grab him everywhere, but apparently, those actions were not allowed. Puzzled, Marie forced them to remain limp in her lap. She turned and faced forward.

“You know, you’re a very beautiful woman,” Brian whispered. “Your skirt is sexy as hell.” Brian’s face was inches away, and his warm breath caressed her cheek. She crossed her arms to keep them from diving into his lap again.

“Thank you.”

“Now don’t be mad.” Marie felt him pulling back the collar of her shirt. “Remember, I’m a professional.” He kissed her neck softly. “Trust me.” Another kiss. His warm lips sent desire coursing up and down her spine. “I know what I’m doing.”

Losing the battle against her restraint, Marie whipped around and reached for him. Brian deftly caught her hands before they reached their intended target. “Now, now.” His devilish smile made her both want to kiss him and punch him. “Be patient.”

She glared at him. “I shouldn’t have to be—”

“Which building, ma’am?” The cab driver asked.

She tore her hands out of Brian’s grasp before answering the cabbie, “Up here. On the left.”

The driver pulled up to her building. Once in the lobby, Marie headed to the elevators while Brian followed. One opened immediately, and she pressed 32, saying nothing as the elevator zoomed upwards. Once on the floor, they continued in silence down the hall, but as she dug into her purse for her keys, Brian stood dangerously close to her. Heat radiated from his body, mingling with his enticing cologne. She fumbled as she tried to get her keys into the lock. He chuckled softly behind her. “Are you okay?”

She succeeded in opening the door and stepped into the apartment. “I’m fine.” She threw her keys and her purse down on the small table beside her and immediately walked over to the stereo. Brian closed the front door as she scrolled through the iPod that sat nestled between the speakers. She found what she was looking for and pressed Play. Art of Noise’s “Moments in Love” filled the room. Marie went to the couch and sat, facing Brian. “Strip.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Strip,” she repeated while sitting back and crossing her legs. “As in take all of your clothes off. Now.”

“And what if I refuse?”

“Then I call Haven and tell her I’m a dissatisfied customer. And you wouldn’t want that, now would you?”

Brian simply stared at her. Marie returned his gaze, ready to follow through on her threat. His little games were fine in the cab, but now he was on her turf and on her time. He would do exactly what she wanted him to do. After several moments, he said, “Fine.”

His hips moved with the music, and his hands unbuttoned his shirt. Marie watched as he exposed inch after inch of rich brown skin. His shirt halfway open, she saw the outline of his firm pecs, and as the buttons continued to fall away, he revealed a solid six-pack. Marie wanted to trace the contours of his sculpted torso, but she forced herself to stay seated, enjoying the show.

Brian slipped his shirt off and let it fall to the floor. Marie’s pussy grew wet at the sight of his half-naked body. When his hands went to undo his belt, she focused on the growing bulge. Even with his pants on, she could tell he was getting hard. Her heart raced in anticipation of the cock that was about to be revealed. He slowly unzipped his pants, and they slipped down to his ankles. Marie couldn’t stop staring at his blue boxer briefs. They were barely containing his generous erection.

Now only in his underwear, Brian approached her. He moved slowly and powerfully across the room. Marie’s skin felt on fire as she tried to wait patiently for him to get close enough so she could draw out his cock. She wanted to feel it in her hands, to stroke its naked smoothness, before he put on the condom so he could enter her.

When he got close enough, Marie reached out for him. He quickly stepped aside. “Oh, no,” he said softly. “Your turn.”

With his hands he uncrossed her legs and knelt between them. One by one, he unbuttoned her shirt, kissing the skin he revealed. Each touch of his lips enflamed Marie’s desire. She helped him along by sliding the shirt down her arms and taking it completely off. With one finger, Brian slowly traced the outline of her left nipple through her lace bra. The gentle movement against the fabric made it hard and sensitive. She gasped as he turned to her right nipple, teasing it to attention.

He reached behind her, forcing her to raise herself slightly off the couch. He found the zipper on her skirt, unzipped it and slid it down to the floor, exposing her black thong panties. He sat back for a moment and studied them. The intensity of his stare sent shockwaves of pleasure down to her pussy.

“Very nice.” He bent down and kissed the inside of her thigh. Instinctively, she scooted forward and grabbed the back of his head. She wanted his tongue to explore its intended target. He pulled back, releasing himself from her grip. “Not yet. My turn again.”

He stood up, and Marie found herself staring at an erection struggling to be released from its confines. She eagerly pulled down his boxer briefs; his cock sprang free. Its large hardness enticed her, and she wrapped her hand around the smooth skin. Brian groaned softly at her touch, and his groans grew louder as she continued to stroke him—slowly at first and then faster.

She let go. “My turn again.”

He helped her off the couch. He took one hand and undid her bra then slipped the other one down into her panties. Marie shuddered as his finger slid over her clit. “Mmm, don’t stop.” But he did and took a step back.

“Should we take this to the bedroom?”

“Definitely.”

Once in the bedroom, Marie lay down, and Brian slowly lowered his body down on top of hers. She wrapped her arms around him. “Kiss me.”

Brian kissed her gently on the mouth. As he pulled back, Marie grabbed the back of his head and brought it to her again. She kissed him again, slipping her tongue between his parted lips. Brian’s tongue deftly danced over hers, and Marie enjoyed the opportunity to finally taste his full lips. With one hand, he cupped her breast and then broke the kiss so his mouth could travel down her body to her nipples, licking and nibbling first one and then the other.

Marie sighed and put both hands on his shoulders to guide him down to her pussy. He reached up and grasped one of her wrists, pulling it away. He kissed her palm and slowly kissed his way up her arm, paying special attention to the crease of her elbow. His tongue licking her there made Marie shudder, but her pussy was throbbing from lack of attention.

Marie gestured to the nightstand. “The condoms are in my drawer. Put one on. I want you inside of me. Now.”

Brian paused before taking out a condom, opening it and slipping it on. He then turned back to her and lightly ran his hand down her torso. His fingers tickling her skin made her laugh. It also irritated her. “Hey, enough already. Just put your cock—”

Marie’s breath caught in her throat when he slipped his fingers inside of her. His slow rhythm made her squirm as he massaged her internally, making her grow wetter with each delicious rotation. She couldn’t stop her hips from thrusting toward him. He continued stroking her for several minutes, and each stroke increased her desire to have his cock inside of her.

She grabbed his hand. “Enough with the foreplay. Fuck me already.”

In the dim light of the bedroom, Marie had a hard time reading his expression. After a moment, he said, “Well, you asked me what my specialty is, and this is it.”

“What? Irritating women and not doing what they want?”

He laughed softly in the darkness. “No.” He bent down and kissed her neck. He then slid a finger over her clit, causing her to gasp. “Foreplay.”

“Okay. I got it.” Marie grunted. “But I think I’ve had enough foreplay. Get down to business.” Without saying anything, Brian removed his hand, climbed on top of her and entered her.

Marie groaned and gripped his back as Brian’s cock filled her up. She closed her eyes, and he came in and out of her with deliberate slowness—an intensely pleasurable and incredibly madding move. “Faster,” she commanded.

Brian’s rhythm didn’t change.

“I said faster.”

Still the same rhythm.

Marie’s eyes flew open. A smirk was plastered across Brian’s face. She frowned. “What is wrong with you? I told you to go faster.”

He bent down and kissed her neck again. “Nothing’s wrong with me. It’s just that I don’t like it when people tell me how to do my job.” His hot breath caressed her ear as he licked it.

“Okay, stop.” Marie raised herself on her elbows. “Look, this is great and all, but I’m paying you to do exactly what I want you to do.”

“Well, actually, you aren’t paying me. This one is on the house, remember?” Marie opened her mouth to protest before realizing he was right. He continued, “So you’re just going to have to lie there and enjoy what I’m doing. Afterwards, if you feel the need to complain to Haven, then that’s fine, but until then, let me be about the business. Okay?”

With his handsome face so close and his warm, naked body on top of hers, all Marie could do was nod. She had to admit his technique felt fantastic, even if it wasn’t her usual style.

He kissed her lips. “Okay, then. Shall we continue?”

“Okay,” she whispered.

He restarted his slow thrusting. Marie lay her head back on the pillow. She couldn’t stop herself from groaning as Brian penetrated her, working his way in deeper with each thrust. He reached down, grabbed her left foot and hooked her leg over his shoulder; she gasped as her pussy took in all of him.

With Brian’s cock slowly sliding in and out, Marie’s orgasm approached. Her breath caught in her throat as it drew closer. She wanted to tell Brian what to do in order to bring it on full-force, but before she could speak, he changed up his rhythm and pounded her furiously. Marie’s body exploded, causing her to grip the sheets as she shook uncontrollably. Brian’s rhythm didn’t stop, and she gave into the waves washing over her.

After what felt like several minutes, her body went limp. Brian continued pounding for a few seconds more and then grunted as he shook with his own orgasm. When his quivering stopped, he rolled off of her, and they both lay on the damp sheets gasping for air.

Marie closed her eyes. Every inch of her body tingled, and she wanted to lie still and enjoy the feeling. As the smell of Brian’s cologne and the impression of his warm body still clung to her, she considered replacing Carl as her favorite.

“So…” Brian paused for a moment, and Marie heard his breathing return to normal. “Are you going to file a complaint?”

Marie turned to look at him. “No. At least not this time.”

Brian raised his eyebrows. “Oh, so does this mean there will be a next time?”

She forced herself to sit up. “Oh, yes. There will most definitely be a next time.” She slowly got out of bed and grabbed her robe from a hook on the back of the bedroom door. “Thank you.”

She turned to see Brian standing over her. The smell of him was intoxicating. Marie mentally made a note to call and set up another appointment as soon as he left. He bent down and kissed her softly. “You’re welcome. I had a great time tonight.”


Purchase this book or download sample versions for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-18 show above.)