Page 43 of Dirty Deeds

I got out of my car and walked around the front of it to open the passenger door. Removing the bakery box, I turned around to face him. A grin tugged the corners of his lips as he came to a full stop in front of me.

“What’s this?” he said, tipping his chin toward the box.

“I thought you might be hungry. There’s plenty for you to share with your workers.”

Stepping forward, he placed his hand on the open passenger door, slamming it closed as he caged me against it. Maneuvering the box so the baked goods wouldn’t get crushed, I pulled my lower lip between my teeth and stared up at him.

“You brought me food.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Well, yes. Is that okay?”

His other hand moved to my hip.

“More than okay, baby.” His hand slid around, taking purchase on my ass. He gave it a squeeze and the box nearly fell to the ground. “You listen and not wear panties?”

Before I could formulate a response, he rocked his hips against me, and I felt the hard ridges of his cock against my belly.

“No panties,” I confirmed. Although I wasn’t sure why. Did I really expect him to fuck me in his client’s home?

He groaned and lowered his head, burying his nose in the crook of neck.

“She fucks like a goddess, brings me food at work, and when I tell her not to wear panties, she obeys,” he said, his teeth grazing the spot right below my ear. “My ma was right. You’re marriage material.”

Then he straightened to his full height, took the bakery box from me, and placed it on the roof of my car. Taking my hand, he escorted me to the truck with the lettering and opened the back double doors.

“What are we doing?” I asked when he stepped to the side and tipped his chin to the back of the truck.

“Get in,” he ordered, his hands snaking around to unfasten the toolbelt around his waist.

His intent was clear. He was going to fuck me in the back of the truck and send me on my way to Brent with his come dripping down my legs just like he promised.

Smoothing a hand over the back of my dress, I carefully lifted it and climbed into the truck. For a work truck, it was fairly clean but there wasn’t much room. There were tools all over the place and buckets of paint in the corner.

He climbed in behind me, closing the doors. I turned to him, wringing my hands.

“There’s a painting tarp behind you,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head. His abs came into view, and I temporarily got distracted. Then I snapped out of it and grabbed the tarp. As I started to unfold it, he took it from me.

“Lose the dress, baby.”

I watched as he laid the tarp out on the floor of the truck, then I did as I was told, pulling the dress over my head in one swoop. He was on his knees, tucking the corners of the tarp when the dress fell. He lifted his head, his eyes slowly traveling up my body until they paused at my breasts.

Then he leaned forward, an animalistic growl tearing past his lips before they circled one of my nipples. His hands were on my ass next, pulling me toward him. He released my nipple and I fell to my knees in front of him, my arms circling his neck. His mouth closed over mine, his tongue hot and hungry as it pried past my lips.

Everything that happened next was rough and wild.

He pushed me onto my back, spreading my legs wide and his mouth went to work, lapping at my clit. His fingers plunged inside me, adding to the intense pleasure. When I couldn’t take it anymore, when my eyes started to roll behind my head and my vision started to blur, my fingers curled into the tarp and I arched my hips, coming all over his face.

He pulled back, his nose nuzzling the inside of my thigh and he drew in a deep breath. Then I heard his zipper. He dropped his jeans to his thighs, and hooked his hands under my thighs, opening me and propping my legs over his shoulders.

I felt his cock nudge my pussy and my eyes sprung open. There was nothing more satisfying then watching his face when he entered me. The look of pure bliss that filled his eyes was incredible to witness.

He didn’t go easy. Every stroke of his cock more powerful than the last. My tits bounced. My ass shook. My pelvic bone felt like it might split in two and I didn’t give the slightest fuck. I didn’t care where we were or who could see the truck rocking with our movements. There was a part of me that got off on the possibility of his workers watching and knowing their boss was fucking me. I had never felt that way before, and in that moment, I wanted the whole fucking world to know I was with Enzo, and he was devouring me.

The woman who gave up her own identity to be Brent Matthews’ wife.

The woman he scorned but didn’t break.

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