SeXTC Read online

  “Mmmm, I don’t know,” she answered, pulling back and looking into her eyes. His attention was fully on her and there was nothing but desire in his hooded gaze. He leaned in for a kiss, but she stopped him taking a moment to nibble on his lip. “Didn’t Chelsea say something about food? I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

  She swore the pronounced bulge beneath her ass twitched at her obvious hint.

  “I’ve got something for you.”

  She laughed. “Are all men taught to say that?”

  “I try not to lie, so I’ll plead the fifth. But I really won’t complain if you suck my cock.”

  The chair scraped the scarred wood floor as he pushed back even farther. Kyla intentionally pressed her ass against his cock as she stood up. He stood as well, unzipped his pants. His erection sprang free. Without hesitation, she wrapped her hand around it and worked her fist up and down the rock-hard shaft.

  Donovan sighed and gave into the pleasure her hands gave him. But he couldn’t help but think about the picture of her emerging from his bathroom. She was sexy as hell, her hair wet and slicked back, her face glowing from the hot water, but there was something different. Like that innocent he found so intriguing had been lost.

  And here, pushing him back into the hardbacked chair and kneeling before him, a teasing grin on her face, was a woman who knew what to do to a man. As her lips closed over his cock, he lost track of what he was thinking about and gave in to sex.

  He fisted his hands, holding himself back when all he really wanted to do was hold her by the hair and fuck her lovely mouth. The heat, her skilled tongue winding around the head of his cock, teasing the slit. When she sucked, he damn near came up off the chair and shot come down her throat.

  She was a menace to his sanity and control. She used one fist, then two, then only her mouth while her hands roamed the rest of his sensitive groin. She nibbled her way down his cock until she reached his balls, then took them into her mouth one by one while her fingers teased his anus.

  God, yes. He moved against her, loving the way she focused on pressing her finger to the puckered entrance and massaged it in time with the strokes of her other hand at his cock.

  Kyla’s teeth grazed over his skin, her breath hot against him. She paused, licking her lips, only to take the entire length of him into her mouth. The back of her throat constricted as she swallowed, tightening on him, forcing a deep moan from his own mouth. He grabbed her hair, holding her there as the wash of blinding pleasure blackened his world.

  She continued, sucking and pulling until he was ready to come, then slowed and shifted. It was sexy, infuriating, mind-boggling and maddening. He wanted more. All of her.

  “Try that again and I’ll back you up against the wall and fuck your mouth myself.”

  She grinned, best she could with his cock shoved in her mouth.

  “Oh, don’t taunt me.”

  An eyebrow lifted and she pulled back, sucking hard. Her lips were so tight around his shaft. She teased, she tugged, she sucked until he was on the verge of erupting in her mouth. Then she’d relax and stroke him softly to the point he was ready to take matters into his own hands and paint her face white.

  “Take it, Kyla. Suck me.” He couldn’t hold back. With his eyes closed, he tilted his head back and let go. Her fingers tightened around the base of his cock, milking him as she sucked hard at the tip. The power of his orgasm ripped the breath from him. He gripped at her hair, holding her there until the mind-numbing spasms faded. His body still jerked at the motion of her tongue prodding the slit in his cock, then licking every drop of come from the shaft. What sweet torture. What had he done to deserve this?

  But when she stood up, her hair half dried and tousled on her shoulders, her lips swollen, her cheeks stained pink, he saw something else. A dark emotion flickered behind her half-closed eyes—and it twisted in his chest.

  Bringing her here had been a mistake. It was too late now. He might have thought she was his kind—like Chelsea—all about physical pleasure, but now he saw the truth. Kyla still had a raw innocence, a level of emotion, a vulnerability that left her exposed.

  He had to get her out of here.

  “If I had a blue ribbon,” he started, winking. “I’d pin it on you for your performance tonight. You can really suck some dick.”

  A shadow flitted across her face—so quickly he almost missed it. Still, her slumped shoulders and averted eyes told him the truth.

  “You’re welcome to stay. If you’re still hungry, you can help yourself in my kitchen. I need to finish this ad and go over my articles for the next issue.”

  Kyla had already started shaking her head. “It’s late. My roommate will worry I’m not home.”

  Donovan nodded, forcing his face to hide his emotions. He figured she’d react that way. “I understand. You’re welcome to come back anytime. I’d enjoy it.”

  “Thanks.”

  He winced. Never was easy to walk away from a one-night stand, even one that didn’t last all night. But she had no room in his world. “My pleasure,” he said, and meant it.

  “One thing,” she paused, looking from the door to him. “What’s it take to get a subscription to your magazine? I’d really like to read about myself next month.”

  “Email me your address. I’ll sign you up.”

  “Sure.” He watched her pick up her purse and fish something out of the side pocket. When she faced him again, any hint of emotion was gone. Handing him the business card, she offered up an empty smile, as if he were nothing more than a stranger. “This woman wants a subscription. Wanna give her a call?”

  Chapter Eight

  Dear Dr. Sex, I walked in on my boyfriend cheating on me. His response? I should have joined in! I might have if it’d been prearranged, but to me it was still cheating. Now he blames me because our relationship has tanked. What’s your opinion?

  Dear Violated: You’re right, he’s wrong, now make him get on his knees and make it up to you. Or c’mon over and I’ll take care of you.

  “Where’d you go?” Theresa jumped up and practically ran at Kyla. “You didn’t call.”

  The ride home had snapped Kyla out of her melancholy—probably by looking around at the people in the half-empty subway and wondered what they’d think if they knew where she’d been and what she’d done. At this point, she could hardly believe it herself.

  Why she reacted the way she did at the end, she wasn’t sure. Although she figured it had a lot to do with it being a very important night in her life—and technically it was another day in the office for Donovan. But why did that bother her?

  “Earth to Kyla. Damn it girl, you’ve got an evil grin and a faraway look in your eye. You have to tell me what you’ve done!”

  She took a deep breath and opened her mouth to start, then gestured Theresa to the sofa. “Better sit down. You’re not gonna believe this.”

  Kyla launched into the story, skimping only a few details. Theresa’s eyes had grown wide after the first mention of Dr. Sex and Kyla wasn’t sure her friend blinked, or breathed, through the rest of the story.

  “So you had a fling with the famous Dr. Sex.” Theresa got up and paced the length of the living room. “And you’re not cheering? No champagne or—”

  “Dear God, Ther, he’s just a man. A cock is a cock is a—”

  “Don’t even say that.”

  “Okay, he’s a man with an above average cock and a very good idea of what to do with it. I hardly think it’s something to crow about.”

  “I would.”

  “Probably.” Kyla kicked her feet up on the coffee table and pushed her limp hair off her face. “But it was empty sex. The emptiest sex I’ve ever had.”

  “Sometimes the best kind is—”

  “Please. He could have fucked a damn pumpkin and gotten the same results. Forgive me for being old-fashioned and enjoying a little emotion with my sex. I at least want the guy to recognize me and semi-sorta like me for me, before it’s all about my pussy.
”

  “Hopeless.”

  “Likely. Anyway. This whole story? Keep it between you and me. Last thing I need is for this all to show up in next month’s magazine and everyone’s looking at me.”

  Theresa snickered.

  “I’ve got to do laundry, catch up on email and head to bed.”

  Her roommate’s laugh followed her to the bedroom.

  * * * * *

  “Hey, Jim wants to pick up the ads, if possible, and meet your new girl.”

  Donovan regretted answering the phone. But with less than week until print, he had to stay focused on SeXTC and not just on sex. “Please, Chelsea, she’s not my girl. And she’s gone already. If Jim wants the ad, he can come get it—and my articles.”

  “Done already?”

  “You know better. I always stay ahead of the game. The articles were done days ago. I’ve already started working on next months.” He lied, but he figured he could use tonight’s data to discuss the thrill of introducing someone to group sex for the first time.

  “Jim’s on his way,” she said. He listened while she bid him goodbye, the sounds muffled with her hand over the receiver. “But he’s royally upset that you and I got a piece of her and he didn’t.”

  “Sorry. I had to get this ad done.”

  “Next time.”

  “I don’t think there’ll be a next time.”

  “What?” her voice ratcheted up a notch. “Shit, Don, she was perfect for you.”

  Donovan sighed and leaned back in his chair. Chelsea, God love her, was everything to him and she’d just slipped into one of her favorite roles—mothering him. “Perfect for what? No offense, but I’m living in a world where lots of women are perfect for me. Especially if they’re pretty, sexy and horny.”

  “Pig.”

  “Have I ever lied to you?”

  Chelsea sighed. He wanted to laugh, but having been there, done that, he didn’t. “You’re not getting younger, mister. You need to think about your future. About feeling, about caring.”

  “I feel, I care.” He felt very ticked off and cared very much not to have this conversation.

  “Sure you do. About us, about your family. About the magazine, your job—lots of things, which shows you’re damn capable of it. But since Amy did the number on you, you’ve treated women like they’re all a brainless, heartless pieces of ass.”

  She was probably right, but he wasn’t going to fucking admit it. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “No? Then you won’t mind giving me Kyla’s number. I’d like to invite her over this weekend.”

  “That’s not really a good idea.”

  “Oh? She was hot as hell, talented with that tongue and really into the sex. Jim was burning up at the thought he missed out of all that tender flesh. Of course, he’d like to introduce her to the handcuffs and—”

  Talk about an inner war. If he argued, Chelsea would never take her claws out of the concept he should be with Kyla. But how the hell could he explain why Chelsea shouldn’t call her?

  “Her number? Last name? Donovan, are you listening?”

  “She’s not like us, Chelsea. If you need a ménage, invite someone who knows the game.”

  “Not like us. Hello, who the hell am I talking to? I seem to remember you pounding her from behind without apology. She liked it—very much. She might not have a lot of experience, but she definitely was in with the program.”

  “She had no idea what she was getting into.” Donovan gritted his teeth. He hated disagreeing with Chelsea, but this was one point he wasn’t going to let go of. Kyla had still had heart left. She carried hope, the chance to find love and happiness. While Chelsea and Jim were married, Donovan had never sensed there was anything between them other than good sex and the ability to live together. They often had other partners. He could never imagine Kyla regarding sex so lightly.

  “I need to get this stuff printed and saved for Jim. We’ll talk about this another day.”

  He hung up without waiting for her response and pulled his chair up to the keyboard again. Instead of accessing his document file, he went straight to email and found Kyla’s original email.

  Reading it again, he imagined her chewing her bottom lip and hesitating over the keyboard as she chose her words, then closing her eyes before hitting send. Not that she was childish or weak—she was precious. He kept thinking innocent, but not sexually. Emotionally? Clearly she had never gone through the hell he’d dealt with or she’d guard her heart better.

  He hit reply, cleared out her previous message and changed the subject line.

  Chelsea would like to see you again. She and her husband want to invite you to a party this weekend. Before I send any personal information, I wanted your consent.

  Donovan

  He reread it, hated it, and hit send just as Jim let himself in the door.

  “Tell your wife I emailed Kyla about your party.”

  “You mean she’s not here?” Jim sat down in the throw-covered recliner and looked around. “I thought Chelsea was teasing. Here I was all in on a threesome for us. If you hadn’t tired her out, that is.”

  “She left right after Chelsea did.”

  “Bummer. You coming Saturday night?”

  Jim and Chelsea had a killer condo offering a dozen different places to have sex. He’d always enjoyed their parties, full of scantily clad woman, cocktails and no inhibitions whatsoever. He could not see Kyla in that environment.

  “Don’t know yet.”

  “Damn. Chels was right.”

  “About what?” Good God, the woman was a pain in the ass.

  “Kyla.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud, Jim, the woman emailed me after reading a back issue of SeXTC and said she’d masturbated to the article. What did you think I would do? I found her and invited her over.”

  “Defensive.” He lifted his hands up.

  Donovan knew the whole discussion was a toxic waste. “Whatever. You’re here for the ad. Lemme print it and get you a CD copy.”

  “It won’t hurt you to admit you actually liked Kyla as a person.”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t.”

  “We know.”

  His email beeped, signaling an incoming message. Donovan paid it no mind, but Jim leaned over and then smiled back at him. “Your girlfriend’s calling.”

  Donovan walked over to the computer and clicked on the email. One sentence. Three words that had no business affecting him, but did. Way too much.

  Are you going?

  “Guess that answers, that, eh?” Jim clapped his hands and stood up. “I’d best be going. I can imagine the two of you up all night cybersexing. I’m going to get this issue together then fuck my wife.”

  Donovan sent Jim off with everything he needed and faced this monitor again. “If I go,” he said as he typed a response to Kyla. Damn. No. He couldn’t say what he wanted. Why would he deliberately talk about the woman he would fuck without regard? To hurt Kyla? To make her understand how crass and emotionless their world really was?

  So if it was so bad, why was he in it?

  Because love sucks.

  And he was no way in love with Kyla after just meeting her, but…

  Shit. But he could fall in love with her, if he just let himself. He’d seen enough to know the deadly potential.

  What sounds better, he started his email again. A room full of horny stranger groping and propositioning you. Strange hands slipping over your body, up your skirt, pinching your breasts. The mouths of people you’ve never seen or talked to all over your body and strange men thrusting their cocks at you. Or, Donovan took a deep breath and typed the rest. Dinner with me?

  He didn’t sign it and hit send before he thought twice.

  Shit.

  What was he doing to himself?

  Feeling. Living.

  He stared at the monitor, waiting like a pussy-whipped man for a sliver of hope he hadn’t just put his dick on the chopping block.

 
The screen flickered. Shit. Fucking spam. No, he didn’t need to make his dick bigger or harder, he needed Kyla to say she’d rather go fuck nameless strangers than have dinner with him. Then he could resume his sex-centered life. Happily.

  Another email popped up. From her.

  Several words were misspelled, so he had to think she was typing without looking back, impulsively getting words on page and out before she censored herself.

  I want to have dinner with you. Then have you for dessert. I want you to blindfold me and pretend you’re all those different people, groping me, pressing their fingers in my pussy and sucking my breast. I want you to kiss me, deeply as you fuck me, facing me. I want to explore your body and have you do the same to me, with or without whipped cream, chocolate sauce or anything else.

  But I have to ask. Why?

  He rearranged his raging hard-on and gulped down the bottle of water he had beside his screen. Jesus Christ that woman was hot. He wanted to do those things to her now.

  Kyla, I second everything you said and think we should do all of that at least twice. Why? Why don’t we start with something simple, like I don’t want to share you, and we’ll go from there? Last thing I want to do is scare you away.

  He hit send.

  And waited. And waited. It was almost an hour later before he heard the knock, a soft, hesitant knock. He shivered as he realized who he wished was on the other side of that door.

  “Hi,” she said, lowering her eyes as he opened the door.

  “You came back.” He reached for her, cupping her cheeks and tilting her face back up toward his. Her eyes would show him the answers she might be too afraid to give. “Why?”

  “I…” she swallowed and tugged her lower lip between her teeth. “Just kiss me. Why is it I’m always making the first move?”

  He laughed even as he pressed his lips to hers. He grabbed her hands and tugged her toward him, until she was inside his apartment. Then he locked and bolted the door. “No interruption. And I’m serious about not sharing. You okay with that?”