“Gross.” I made a swipe for the bag, but he held it to the side. “Ivan! You’re such a fucking child!” I jabbed him in the bicep.
He winced, dropping his arm, and I took the chance to grab the bag.
With a laugh, I said, “Ha! Who has the food now?” I got up and ran around the table, digging in for my burger. I unwrapped it and tear a bite off in a very unladylike way.
Hey, if the guy can fuck me on a regular basis, he can deal with my eating habits.
“Brenda,” he said slowly, standing, his eyes dead on mine. “Give me my burger.”
I shook my head.
“Brenda.” An undercurrent of a threat was in his voice, and despite the small thrill it sent through my body, I took another bite of my burger.
“Yes?”
“The burger.”
I shook my head for a second time. “Nope. You take my food, I take yours.”
“You took it back.” He cocked an eyebrow, taking slow steps towards me.
I backed up until I hit the counter. “And I’m keeping it.”
He sighed, letting his shoulders sag. “I didn’t want to do this, but…”
Quicker than I could move, he darted around the table towards me. He flattened his hands on the counter on either side of my body and rested his hips against mine.
Dipping his head, he ran his nose along my jaw. “Are you going to give me the food?”
“Are you trying to seduce me into giving you it?” I gasped at the feel of his tongue flicking against the tender spot below my ear.
“I’m not trying to seduce you, Brenda. I am seducing you. I don’t try.” His lips brushed along my neck, just below my jawline.
My eyes fluttered shut, and he settled one of his hands on my hip. His fingers edged beneath my sweater and my shirt, tantalizingly rubbing against my skin, and I tilted my head back. He continued his exploration of my neck with his mouth, humming against my skin, whispering into my neck, pushing his hardening cock into my thigh…
“Thanks,” he said, grabbing the bag and stepping away.
Oh holy hell fucking no!
“Going somewhere?” I snapped out, discarding my burger to the side and grabbing his sweater. I tugged, spinning him.
Amusement and desire battle in his eyes. “To the sofa. To eat.”
“Oh, no, you’re not. You’re going to come over here and finish what you just started, Ivan Sands.”
He placed the bag on the kitchen table and studied me. “Am I adding demanding to my list of adjectives for you?”
“Go ahead.”
A smirk teased his lips. “Okay, my demanding bitch.” He came back to me and stood in front of me without touching me. “What exactly am I supposed to be finishing?”
I looked up at him. “Don’t play dumb with me. You can’t come over here, turn me the fuck on, then walk away like my panties aren’t soaked.”
“They’re soaked, hmm? Just from that?” He trapped me with his hands again. His breath fanned across my mouth, and I licked my lips.
“Why don’t you find out?” I challenged, his eyes sparking immediately.
“In that case…” He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my jeans and tugged them down over my ass.
I gasped as he wrapped his hands around the backs of my thighs and lifted me up onto the counter. Perching on the edge, I watch as he pulled the jeans from my legs and dumped them on the floor. He ran his hands back up my legs, spreading his fingers wide when he reached my thighs, and paused just before his thumbs touched my thong.
“I think I will.”
Ivan nudged the material of my thong to the side in one jerky movement. His thumb brushed along my pussy, circling my clit quickly. I gasped and he groaned.
“Good girl.” His voice rumbled through me as he lifted his hands and eased my sweater over my head.
My shirt quickly followed, and as he stepped closer, he cupped both of my breasts. He kissed along the cup line of my bra and up. Deftly, he undid my bra and it fell down my arms.
“I can’t decide if I want to tie your hands or have them in my hair,” he whispered in my ear, rolling my nipples between his thumbs and fingers.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and tugged on his sweater and shirt. He released my breasts long enough to pull them over his head then pulled my body against his. The movement wass hard, and my lips parted at the exact time he touched his own lips to them.
Ivan’s tongue swept through my mouth in familiar, easy movements, desperate movements, needing movements. His fingers slid up my thighs, probing, squeezing, and they left me only long enough to undo his belt and shove his jeans down.
He grabbed my wrists and flattened my hands behind me so I was leaning back and slowly rubbed the end of his cock against my wetness.
“Please,” I whispered.
It’d been two days. Two long, seemingly torturous days since I had him inside me, and I had never been so desperate for him. For that fleeting feeling of completeness and rightness.
In one swift movement, he was inside me and gripping my hips. His teasing movements of earlier were gone as he drove himself relentlessly into me. It was raw and unbridled.
It was perfect.
He sucked hard on one of my nipples, making me cry out in both pain and pleasure. He did the same to the other then slid a hand up my back, fisted my hair, and pulled my mouth down to his. His kiss was as rough as his fucking, every thrust of his tongue matching that of his hips.
It didn’t take long for that sweet heat of an impending orgasm to overwhelm me. I reached forward and tangled my fingers in his hair the way his were tangled in mine. I broke the kiss and rest my forehead against his, breathing heavily, moaning with almost every exhale.
“Brenda. Fucking hell, Brenda,” he groaned, moving even faster. “God, I need this. I need you.”
His words were my undoing. They scared me and thrilled me and consumed me. I clenched around him, my world utterly silent except for the rush of blood in my ears and those three final words spinning inside my mind.
“I need you.”
I came back down with a crash. His arms were tight around me, and both my arms and legs were still wrapped around his body, holding us together.
But they’re not really holding us. The thing that was holding us was the strength of our addictions. It was gluing us to the other, all while we’re trying to make something potentially beautiful from something incredibly ugly.
“Oh, look at that. We went straight to dessert.”
Ivan’s words made me laugh, and I pulled back. His eyes were bright, much brighter than before. If that didn’t tell me the intensity of his addiction to sex, I didn’t know what would.
“Come here.” He nudged my nose with his and slid me off the counter. Without letting me go, he carried me through to my room. Just when I was smiling at his act of romance, he pulled out of me and dumped me unceremoniously on my bed.I shrieked and grabbed my sheet to stop myself from falling onto the floor. “You dick!” I yelled as he disappeared into the bathroom.Of course, he laughed. He never took me seriously when I yelled insults at him, and that was half the fun.“Hey, bitch.” He threw a towel on top of me and then jumped over me. His knees were on either side of my thighs, his forearms by my head, and his grinning face was hovering just inches above mine.“What?” I asked, awkwardly reaching between us and wiping. Somehow, I eased my panties down and threw them on the floor.His smile widened. “You never gave me my blow job.”My own lips moved to mirror his, and I tapped his
“Brenda, snap the hell out of it!” Her words were short and sharp.I blinked harshly.“Honestly, I can’t decide if you’re addicted to love or a commitment-phobe.”“Both. Definitely both.”“Don’t tell me you’re seriously thinking that being with Ivan is a bad idea.”I leaned back in the chair. “I’ve never not thought that. He’s a very, very bad idea.”“You really piss me off sometimes.”“Good. At least the feeling is mutual.” I grinned and she returned it.“Seriously, meeting his sister isn’t a big deal. You don’t even have to meet her with him. We’ll go for drinks or something.” She shrugged. “Aaron’s working late, so I’m basically sitting around like a dick every night, doing nothing.&r
The model stared at me with an affected look before she turned to Ivan. A flirtatious smile stretched across her face and she flicked her hair.'Oh, please. Is this fucking high school?'“Let’s get started,” Ivan said casually.You wouldn’t believe that, just seconds ago, he was leaning over me, half threatening me.He casually picked up his camera and directed the model where to stand. I hooked one of my ankles over the other. Resolve was building inside me. 'I will stick this shoot out.''I’ll sit here, jealousy and anger and possibly a little hatred building inside me, and I’ll watch the whole damn thing.'Just to make a point.I rested my elbow on the desk and placed my chin in my palm. I was not sure who the model waz or what she was doing, but she had a really annoying laugh. All high pitched and almost squeaky. The ones you cringe at.I tapped my nails against my leg, watching the shoo
The glass clanked on the counter as I placed it down. The vodka settled into a warm ball in my lower stomach. Shit, shit, shit. Fucking shit!I kicked the cupboard shut and looked at the clock for the first time since leaving the studio. At least I lasted most of the shoot. That was better than running at the first glance.Ha. Running. I’m good at running. So much so that I should live in my fucking sneakers.I poured another drink and drunk it as quickly as the last. Shit. What if I am falling in love? What kind of fucked-up bullshit would that make our relationship? It certainly wouldn’t be a fairytale.It would be nothing close to a fairytale. Not even good ol’ Walt could spin it into a Disney-esque happy ending.Another clank of the glass against the side and I stormed into the bathroom. I turned the shower on—full heat and full power—and stripped off. I stepped beneath the burning flow of water and let it wash ove
“I’m not shooting in two weeks.” His lips curled up. “Yes, you are. Modester just didn’t call you yet. You got the campaign. And while you’re on a beach in fucking Mexico in a fucking bikini in front of some fucking knob, I’m stuck here, waiting for you to get back.” I couldn't even be happy. I couldn’t be thrilled about getting the campaign. All I could hear was the thickness in his voice. The one he was trying to hide. “You are mine, Brenda. Don’t ever doubt that. Every part of you is mine. And I’m yours. Every part of me is yours. Don’t doubt that either.” I buried my face into his chest. He was right. We belonged to each other, even if it was in the most fucked-up way. In a way that made no sense at all. “I don’t doubt it,” I whispered into him. “I never doubt it. Not when I feel this way. I can’t. It’s impossible, Ivan. I can’t not believe it.” “Then listen to it. Please, baby girl. Please just fucking listen to it when I make you
“Or else I’ll smack your arse so hard you’ll feel my hand there for a week.” “Tempting.” I caught the thong and tucked it into my palm. “I happen to be fond of your spankings… And your hands.” I laughed and ran out of my room. Ivan’s own quiet laugh followed me, and I flicked the kettle to boiling. Brits and their fucking tea. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and buzzed his lips down my neck. “You’re a dirty, rotten tease, bitch.” “And you’re awfully demanding.” I smiled and threw a teabag into a mug for him. I spooned coffee into the second. “It’s hard not to be when you give in to every single one… Especially if handcuffs are involved.” “Or ties. Or scarfs. Or maybe chains,” I teased. “Chains, hmm?” “Are you getting ideas now?” He reached out and grabbed his tea. He curled his fingers around the mug handle. “Brenda,” he breathed close to my mouth. “All you have to do is exist and I get ideas. About yo
I hid my smile and took my phone. “Seriously. Is she pregnant?”He shook his head. “After the last few days, thank god she isn’t. The day she does get pregnant, I’m going on a nine-month-long vacation. Now, before she marches over here and strings my balls from the pier, go to fucking Starbucks. I’m going to get Tylenol and a nap.”I got in my car, laughing loudly, and waved to him. I think I wanted to feel sorry for him, but he can be just as bad.When I arrived at Starbucks, and she gets in my car before I can even cut the engine.“Drive. Now. To your apartment,” she demanded, clicking her belt into place.“I thought—”“I need a tequila shot and a bottle of wine—something Starbucks can’t provide me. Foot down, Brenda.”She was lucky I always had tequila and wine
I swallowed and opened the drawer. My words were caught in my throat, but I got the feeling that he didn’t want me to talk. He just wanted me to do.The bed creaked as I perched on the end of it and rolled the silky stockings up my legs.“Good girl. Leave your hair down. You have two minutes to get some shoes on and meet me outside.”The line cut out with those words, and my eyes widened. Two minutes?“Way to give a girl some warning, asshole,” I muttered, simultaneously brushing my hair and sliding my feet into some heels.I ran another layer of pink gloss across my lips, and after double-checking that my MIA cat had food in his bowl, I locked the apartment. Damn cat had been out somewhere for three days, probably humping a bunch of lady-cats in a desperate attempt for baby Anguses. Unfortunately for him, his balls were as