No Magic Moment Page 2
“Goddamn.”
She blinked up at me, eyes glistening like huge emeralds, teeth sneaking over her lush bottom lip. “Is that a dirtball between your legs, or are you just happy to see me?”
I narrowed my gaze. “You sure you want to play it like that?”
Her smile deepened—as she scraped her nails lightly over my balls. “Maybe I do. I never liked playing in the dirt. The teeter-totter was more my thing. Up, down. Up, down…”
I laughed, though I didn’t want to. The action sped up my heart rate, pulsing more blood into the arousal she played with such expertise. Jesus. She knew me so well. Knew exactly where to stroke, to push, to tease. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
She licked her lips, all feigned innocence once more. “Was I missing out…not diving into the mud with the boys?”
I swallowed heavily. “The mud can be rough.”
“Hmmm. I think I can handle rough.”
“And brutal.”
“Good.”
I laughed again, this time on purpose—to distract her. Just as she tried to get a bigger handful of my sex, I dropped my grip to her waist and completely turned her over. With a gasp, she grabbed the top of the seat, her knees hiked on the cushion.
“How do you like the dirt so far, princess?”
The rise and fall of her shoulders gave me an immediate answer. Her breaths came faster as I shoved her skirt up and her panties down, fully exposing her to my gaze. Damn. And I’d thought her breasts were mesmerizing? I couldn’t stop caressing the milky globes of her backside, astonished and humbled that this breathtaking body was all mine.
“Ohhhh…” It spilled from her as I slid my fingers between her thighs, encountering the cream that always made me think of nectar from some far-off land. Perhaps another planet. From the start, that was how I’d seen Margaux Asher. Right, wrong, or completely lunatic, she was like a gift in my life from another galaxy—and I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to change the perspective.
“My treasure.” I rasped it as I palmed her mound, splaying fingers over the cropped curls that shielded her most sensitive flesh. “I need more of this.”
“Yes,” she whispered. The lights from the road played over her neck and breasts as she arched back for me. “Yes, Michael. Oh, God. Touch me there…please.”
I pressed myself over her, inhaling the spicy mix of her favorite perfume. “You mean right…here?” I slid the tender flesh back, releasing her trembling nub, making us both shudder. “You want me to get your little clit dirty? Make it shiver and shake, so it opens you up to be fucked by my nasty cock?”
She kneaded the back cushion of the seat, muscles cording in her shoulders. Illicit and rumpled, her dress bunched around her waist, her nudity flashing in and out of shadows as Andre drove us through the night. We sped along the freeway now, the car nearly alive around us, rocking from the force of the acceleration.
“I’m—I’m already open. Damn it, Michael. Give it to me!”
She finished it on a gasp as I leaned back, spreading her cheeks so I could gaze at pussy, open and wet and perfect. “Look at this cunt,” I growled. “Even in the dark, I can see it glistening. So ready for me.”
“Yes.” She parted her thighs, stretching her lace panties to their limit between her knees. “Ready. Michael. Michael.”
I could resist no longer.
“Hang on, princess.”
With one push, I breached her entrance.
With the second, I lunged completely in.
She screamed. I groaned.
One long moment, savoring every clench and constriction around me—and the glimpse I surely had of heaven—before I began the steady, hard pace that matched the fast-lane thrum of the car. She didn’t want the granny lane tonight. She wanted the rush, the adrenaline…the dirt. It was my supreme pleasure to give her all three.
“Oh, hell,” she rasped. “So good. So good.”
I couldn’t have agreed more. She smelled so good. Felt so good. Fucked so good. I told her so by grabbing her nape with my teeth, digging in just enough to zap down to her clit. As that wet bundle quivered beneath my fingers, I knew it had worked.
“Rub yourself, sugar. Put your fingers right here and make yourself dirtier for me.”
She complied without question. Her strokes pushed her folds against my shaft, tightening her body’s grip on my erection, dragging a taut moan from the depths of my balls and out of my throat.
“Dear God, woman. I need to fuck you hard.”
She abandoned her masturbation in order to grip the cushion with both hands again—bracing for my deeper, harder plunges. “Yes.”
“And you need to take it.”
“Yes.”
I reared back, framing her hips with my hands. Slammed into her with the full force of my lust and need. Rejoiced as she squeezed around me, tighter then tighter still, finally pulsing with the violence of her release. A string of profanity tumbled out of her, high and ragged and unthinking, filling my cock and stretching my control. Still, I wasn’t done with her. No way. I needed more. Needed to drain everything from her, as she’d completely consumed me.
She’d barely come down from that wave when I reached in, massaging her clit all over again.
“Michael. Oh, my God. I can’t. Not so fast—”
“You can.” I pinched her stiff flesh, tearing a full scream from her. “You will.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Ohhhh, fuck!”
“That’s it.” I ground into her, thrusting as deep as I could, reveling in the crush of her sex around mine. “My darling, dirty girl. Do it for me again, Margaux. Let me feel you come. Now. Now!”
Her whole body clenched. Her head fell back, a soundless shriek spilling from her parted lips. She pumped her hips back into mine, milking me with her orgasm, all but demanding that I follow her over into the ecstasy.
I sure as hell did.
Pressure surged. Exploded. The world careened so hard I almost questioned if Andre had rolled the car. I fell over her, sinking teeth into her shoulder as I emptied my essence into her hot, perfect channel. The shudders of her passion urged me on, dragging more and more cum from me, bringing on a sarcastic wondering about having any swimmers left to give her, ever. Sure, we weren’t concerned about condoms since Margaux had started on birth control pills, but that didn’t mean I didn’t entertain dreams of it being different one day—of coming inside her so our child would grow from that fire. A little girl with all the beauty and intensity of her mother…
I forced the thought back while ordering my body under control. But the dream was persistent and it grew every day.
I wanted a family with this woman.
I wanted a life with this woman.
I needed to be with this woman every day for the rest of my life.
Springing the news on her? Different story. Much different.
One step at a time, man. It’s not like you can just handcuff her down and make her listen.
Or could I?
Chapter Two
Margaux
“Do I even want to know what this is for?”
My hulk of a driver—and now, undoubtedly, best go-to guy on the planet—lugged the mid-century schoolroom desk and attached chair into the middle of my condo’s living room. It was perfect, the centerpiece of my grand scheme to help my man celebrate his first day of professional freedom from my mother. Coincidentally, it was also the fulfillment of a secret fantasy we’d confessed to each other after he’d toured me through the offices of the Aequitas firm last month, when he was still considering their obscenely generous offer to come on board their elite team, representing some of the biggest names in international business.
Aequitas occupied a building in the East Village that had been lovingly restored from its shoe factory beginnings—already a plus—but the firm’s elegant take on exposed brick and wood had won me over. That, and the fact that after Michael explained that the desk in his future off
ice was a refurbished piece from a girls’ private school…the headmaster’s himself, actually…well, it hadn’t taken much imagination—his or mine—to make the jump from there.
Andre’s wry snicker brought me back to the present for the time being. “What?” I rejoined. “It’s charming, isn’t it?”
“Mmmm hmmm. Charming.”
“Shut up. I’m switching things up in here, décor wise, and this is my focal piece. Just set it there.” I pointed to where he stood, wanting him to leave before he asked more questions. The man often knew I was lying with just a glance, so the sooner he got the hell out of there, the better.
Besides, I still had preparations to make.
“Did you pick up the dry cleaning?” I asked.
“Not yet. You had me on a scavenger hunt for a specific desk, remember?”
I sniffed delicately. “Well, you did a great job. I appreciate what you found. But now off you go. I also need you to finish the other things I texted to you while you’re out doing errands.” Because you’re sure as hell not hanging out downstairs, conjuring ideas of what Michael and I are doing with this desk. “And don’t come back until tomorrow, okay?”
“Because of the redecorating?”
I lifted one eyebrow in my should-be-patented death stare.
Andre’s belly laugh filled my condo like the late-afternoon sunshine still streaming in the windows.
“Tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am, Ms. Asher.” With a ridiculously grand bow, he backed out the front door.
I had about thirty minutes to get ready. Michael had messaged to say what time he was leaving the office and I’d added his brief commute time on top of that. I wanted to be fully dressed when he walked in the door.
I’d been pondering the details of this role play fantasy since last month, but after what he did yesterday, crawling in that filthy sewer to get the cherished pinkie ring Caroline had given me as a child? Yeah, above and beyond. Or was it below and beyond? Did it matter? One thing was glaringly clear. I owed him more than a quick fuck in the back of my car—even if said sex had been heart-stopping and amazing. Somehow, he just kept getting better and better at that end of things…
A stupid grin spread across my face as I halted completely, leaning against the wall. Damn. Just thinking of him…I’d literally stopped in my tracks.
Oh, yeah. It was official. I was in love. Me, Margaux Corina Asher, in love with a man who more than deserved to be loved. Not one of the typical, poor-excuse-for-a-man losers that I’d always fallen for, but an actual, amazing, gorgeous, sexy-as-sin, smart, funny, caring—did I say sexy?—guy.
He was quickly becoming the center of my universe. My everything.
It was a little unnerving.
Maybe a lot.
Thoughts for another time, woman.
I hustled down the hall to our bedroom, ready to make the full transformation into naughty schoolgirl. I had a punishment coming—at least I hoped I did—and my headmaster was due home in exactly twenty minutes.
The outfit had been waiting in the back of my closet, far from the prying eyes of my assistant and fashion consultant, Sorrelle. Dear God, the boy would never let me hear the end of it if he saw the plaid skirt, white knee socks and patent leather Mary Janes. For the top, I had a starched white blouse—two sizes too small. I left the top three buttons open, exposing Michael’s favorite red lace bra beneath.
I rimmed my eyes with heavy black liner, added a thick coat of mascara and finished off with some of the dark berry lip stain I wore every day of my adult life. It was the curse of being a blonde. If I didn’t color my lips, I looked like a corpse. That was just all there was to it.
I contemplated my hair. Pigtails or braids? I settled on low pigtails, so my instructor could pull them if he saw fit. And God, I hoped he saw fit.
Almost time.
I kept my fingers crossed, at least mentally. Michael definitely let my naughty side run wild, never turning away when I needed things rough. At other times, he could be the gentlest lover on the planet. It was such a puzzling dichotomy, making him all the sexier to me with every passing day. Often I wondered how so much complexity could be wrapped in one person. There was still so much to figure out about him—but we had time for it all. Neither of us could or should rush it. At just three months, our relationship was still in its infancy. We had so much to discover about each other and I looked forward to all of it. It was so damn good to be running toward someone, not away.
I reached for my final prop. The hunk of bubble gum was going to help play up my naughty-student act, if I could get past the overwhelming sweetness. Why did I used to sneak this stuff behind Andrea’s back as a kid?
I hurried to my desk in the middle of the living room, grabbing a cookbook from the kitchen to stand in as a textbook. I also pulled out a ruler but left it behind on the island. I had no idea how he’d react to all this. Men were strange sometimes. Talking about fantasies was sometimes their preference over making them come true. If Michael gaped like he’d just entered a freak show, it’d be better not to complicate things with a cavalcade of school supplies.
I did take a couple of sharpened pencils—brand new number twos—and lay them end-to-end in the well on the desk’s top. Like any good student, I sat up straight with my hands folded in front of me. The only thing out of place was my exaggerated gum chewing. It lent to the schoolgirl bit but also helped with my nervousness.
Keys jangled in the hall.
My heartbeat skidded in my chest.
Showtime.
I tried to call the circus in my stomach to rest. Would he play along with me? I was almost certain he would…but how far? In what direction?
Uncertainty assaulted me.
A simple question had never turned me on more.
The door swung open. I looked up, brandishing a cheeky grin. Blew a big pink bubble out of my mouth with a long hiss.
Pop.
I sucked the gum back in and kept chewing, adding a little wink. Getting deeper into character helped keep the circus under control—especially after I took in my man from head to toe. He’d worn one of his sharpest suits today, nearly black navy that was perfectly fitted to every lean, muscled inch of him. Finishing the look was a burgundy tie, a color he turned into a power look with the force of his presence alone.
I really loved that suit on him.
Within ten seconds, I squirmed in the seat. Wet for him. Wanting him.
“Well, what do we have here?” His sensual growl moved through me while he shucked his jacket and slid his briefcase onto the island in the kitchen, right next to the wooden ruler. Though I had a blind spot due to my lower level at the desk, I sensed he stashed the ruler in his back pocket. I’d find out for sure if I pushed him far enough…and earned a punishment.
Oh, it was on.
“Hi there.” I blew another bubble. Smaller this time. Popped it with my teeth and sucked it back in. Michael watched every movement with darkening eyes—and, I observed as he walked out from the kitchen, a hardening crotch. Oh, yes. I grinned a little wider.
“Hello there.” He started unbuttoning his sleeves. Rolled them both to his elbows. Oh hell, yes. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve come for detention—just like the slip said, Headmaster.” I chewed loudly but added in a mumble, “Although I didn’t expect the proctor to be late.”
He lifted both hands to his waist. “What did you just say, Miss Asher?”
His snarl was terrifying—and so fucking hot. He’d taken the bait and jumped right into character—as I’d known he would, deep in my heart. Never letting me down.
I loved this man so much.
“Nothing.” I snapped it breezily, diving deeper into my own persona. “Nothing at all.”
“Perhaps you meant ‘nothing, Sir’?”
I gave him an exaggerated blink through my heavily coated lashes. “Of course. Nothing, Sir.”
He prowled closer. I smiled bigger. Holy crap, he was good. So
damn good.
“Miss Asher, I’ve been seeing a lot of you lately. Your behavior is getting out of hand. It’s possible some corrective action is necessary at this point.”
I gasped and worried my lips together. “No! Please, Headmaster. I promise, I promise I’ll be good.”
“That’s what you said last time you were in my office, young lady.”
“But I mean it this time. I do.”
“So tell me, why were you sent to my office? Exactly?” He eyed me carefully. I picked up the vibe instantly. He was playing along while trying to understand what I wanted out of all this. While we’d talked about the fantasy, we hadn’t exactly discussed a line-by-line. I could never let this man go. He was clever enough and brave enough to go toe-to-toe with me on every level.
I blew another bubble for dramatic effect. Michael sighed, giving it equal weight. “Give me the gum, Miss Asher. You know it’s against school policy and it’s unladylike to be chewing it in front of me.”
I slid another glance up at him. “You gonna make me?”
He walked back to the counter, grabbed a tissue from the box on it, then paced back over to cup it in front of my mouth.
“Spit it out.”
“No.”
“Do not defy me. It will only make things worse for you. It’s a disgusting habit, anyway.” He pressed his other hand against the side of my face. “There are much better uses for that pretty little mouth.”
I lifted my stare to him, eyes as wide as I could make them while depositing the gum into the waiting tissue. That certainly didn’t give him the victory. I purposely left a long trail of saliva from the gum to my mouth, letting the edges of my lips turn up when Michael answered with a rumble of arousal. Our eyes met as he wadded the tissue around the gum. His gaze had gone dark as caramel. This new game, allowing us to be a combination of our real and pretend selves, was turning him on as deeply as it was me.
“Better.” He dropped the tissue into the wastebasket then returned to stand in front of me, legs braced like before. The bulge in his slacks was visible…and mouth-watering.